#was just fuckin driving minding my own business and they flew right in front of meeeee 😭

[mushtoons]

okay guys imma need all the witches, superstitious, lucky ect to either give me tips or bless me with some good luck or something its escalated....

my bad luck has gone too far (<- hit a fuckin bird on the highway on the way to work)

[drabbles-mc]

Whatever It Takes

Juice Ortiz x Reader

Shoutout to @bishopslosawife​ for this idea! I am...passionate about Juan Carlos Ortiz:  What if a up-and-coming MC from another state stops in town for a night to discuss business but when they don't get want they want they take something/someone important to a SONs member as a leverage against the guys? I could see Juice going all overprotective of his s/o. 😍

Warnings: blood, language, murder, kidnapping, angst

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Honestly I would kill a man for Juice and I believe that he would do the same for me haha. Enjoy! xo

Taglist?? I realize that I don’t write a whole lot for SOA and when I do it’s always been Juice lol. That being said! If you’re interested in getting tagged in any future SOA or Juice fics please let me know!

The doors to the chapel flew open and a stream of very angry-looking men came storming out. You sat back at the bar, trying to make yourself as small as possible as most of them left the clubhouse. Once the Sons started filing out, you could see that none of them were looking overly excited about whatever had gone down during church either. Clay, Jax, and Tig were still in the chapel and you caught brief glimpses of their faces as they shut the doors once again, making it so it was just the three of them.

“Hey,” Juice appeared in front of you, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead, “it’s late, what are you still doing here?”

You smiled and shrugged, “Waiting for you. Didn’t think it was going to take so long.”

“Yea, it was a fuckin’ shitshow in there.”

“I figured. Those guys didn’t look happy.”

He chuckled, but you could see the exhaustion on his face, “They weren’t.”

You cupped his face, thumb tracing along his cheekbone for a moment, “Ready to go home?”

He nodded, leaning into your touch, “Absolutely.”

You hopped down off the barstool and pulled him with you towards the door of the clubhouse. He trailed behind you, and you let out a small yelp followed by a laugh when you felt him playfully smack your ass as you walked through the doors.

“Juan Carlos,” you feigned offence as you turned around, placing your hands on his chest, “there’s a time and a place for that.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist, “What’s wrong with here and now?”

You smiled, shaking your head as you leaned in and kissed him. His arms wrapped tighter around you, keeping you pressed flush up against him. Your hands slid up from his chest, fingers trailing lightly and quickly over his mohawk until they came to rest on the back of his neck. You could’ve stood there like that with him forever if it was possible.

He pulled his lips away from yours to catch his breath, but you could see a playful smile starting to spread across his face as he rested his forehead against yours, “I love you.”

You smiled, humming in approval, “I love you too. We gonna make it home tonight or are we crashing in your dorm?”

He laughed, nudging you towards his bike, “We’ll make it home, c’mon we can even take the bike. I’ll bring you back for your car in the morning.”

As the two of you made your way over, you heard someone call out for Juice from the opposite side of the parking lot. You both turned around, and you felt Juice’s body tense up a little bit as he stood directly in front of you, completely blocking you from whoever was talking to him.

“This ain’t over, you know,” the young man walked up to Juice, blowing out a billow of smoke as he spoke, “Better let your Pres know that.”

“Pretty sure you’re the one who should be letting him know,” Juice’s tone was even, but he kept one hand behind him, rested on your hip, “He’s still in church. Go talk to someone who actually has some sway.”

The man laughed, dropping what little was left of his cigarette on the ground between his feet and Juice’s, “Don’t say we didn’t warn you,” he looked over Juice’s shoulder and shot you a smile that was too much to be sincere, “You two have a good night.”

After the man walked off, getting onto his own bike and leaving the compound, you and Juice both let out sighs of relief. His body was still rigid as he turned back to face you, trying to search your expression to see if you were alright. You knew that things got dicey with the club—you’d had to clean Juice up on more than one occasion because of it, but it was different when you were experiencing the tension first-hand.

“You alright?” he gently cupped your face in both of his hands.

You nodded, “Yea. That was just…weird.”

“I know,” he sighed, “I’m sorry, baby, I just feel like I should probably go talk to Clay and them. You okay to drive home and I’ll meet you there in a little bit?”

“Yea, of course,” you kissed him softly on the lips, “I’ll text you when I get home. I love you.”

He smiled, “I love you too.”

He waited until you were off the lot before heading inside to talk to Jax and Clay about the brief little interaction he’d had out in the parking lot. More likely than not it was all talk, but there was never a guarantee of that.

You pulled into the gas station, mentally kicking yourself for putting off getting gas for so long. You wanted to be home but you wouldn’t have made it with what little was left in the tank. You went inside and prepaid, coming back out to the pump. You looked around as you filled your car, and everything seemed quiet.

You turned to put the nozzle back on the pump when you felt an arm wrap around your neck, a gloved hand coming to rest tightly over your mouth. Your entire body froze, and you wouldn’t have been able to try to fight or run if someone tried to pay you. The person pushed you up against your car, speaking to you in a low, harsh whisper.

“When I take my hand away, you’re not gonna scream. You’re going to get into this car and you’re going to do exactly what I tell you to, got it?”

You nodded, eyes wide with fear. When he took his hand away, though, something came over you and you let out a blood-chilling scream. The last thing you remembered was the man cursing and your head being slammed hard against the side of your car. Everything went black after that.

Juice was heading back out to his bike after talking with Jax and Clay. He hadn’t gotten any messages from you, which was a little worrying but it wouldn’t have been the first time you forgot. He dialed your number and called, figuring that if you were home and just forgot you’d pick up and the first words out of your mouth would be, “I forgot again, I’m sorry! I love you,” the way that they always were.

But there was no answer

He tried two more times and it was more of the same. Even if you had fallen asleep right away when you got home, the second or third call would’ve woken you up. He turned to head back inside when he saw Jax walking out of the clubhouse. He flagged him down.

“What’s up, brother?” Jax could see the worry on Juice’s face.

“It’s Y/N. I haven’t heard from her since she left. Tried calling and she didn’t pick up. You mind just riding with me out to her place to make sure she’s all good? It’s probably nothing but it’s not sitting right with me.”

He nodded as he clipped his helmet on, “Yea, sure thing.”

The two of them rode out to your house, and came to an empty driveway and no lights on inside. The knot in Juice’s stomach was growing as he parked his bike and hopped off of it. He yanked off his helmet, running his hand over his head as he turned back to Jax with worry all over his face.

“This isn’t right, Jax. She was coming straight home. Something must’ve happened to her.”

“Alright. Let’s think for a second here before we get too crazy.”

“What if it was that guy?” he saw the confusion on Jax’s face and elaborated, “Adam, or Aaron, or whatever the fuck his name was. The one who came up to us in the parking lot.”

He shook his head, “No way. Those guys are too green to be doing shit like that.”

“You sure about that? Gave you and Clay a run for your money during church tonight.”

The comment stung Jax’s ego a bit, but he had to admit that Juice raised a somewhat valid point. He sighed, “Alright. Call the guys, get ‘em all back to church. Let’s find this asshole and get your girl back.”

Juice immediately started calling everyone. Luckily it hadn’t been very long and everyone was more than willing to turn back around and head back to the clubhouse. Juice looked at your house as he dialed number after number, the darkness in the windows sending shots of fear up and down his spine.

Once everyone was back at the chapel, they started strategizing. They were trying to figure out where the most logical places would be for the men to have taken you, what they were going to ask for to secure your safe return. Throughout the whole thing, Juice’s eyes were glued to his phone, hoping to see your name light up the small screen of his phone.

“We can’t cave to all of their demands, though,” Clay said with a strong sense of finality.

Juice turned to look at the man sitting at the head of the table, “We’ll do whatever we fucking have to, to get her home.”

It wasn’t like him to speak that way to anyone, let alone Clay. The man shook his head, “Juice, I know that this is hitting you close to home but—”

“But nothing!” he stood up, “Not getting her back isn’t an option, Clay,” tears stung at his eyes but his anger was still apparent.

Before the argument could continue any farther, Juice’s phone buzzed on the surface of the table. His eyes went wide as he picked it up, seeing your name on the screen. He held his breath as he brought it up to his ear, “Hello?”

“Go glad you picked up, Juan Carlos,” the man chuckled.

“What the fuck did you do to—”

“She’s fine…for now. But I’m going to need you and the president of your club to agree to some things if you want to make sure she stays that way.”

“Prove it,” he snapped.

“Prove what?”

“Prove that she’s alright. How do I know that you didn’t already do something to her?”

The man chuckled but he complied. Juice heard your pained tone coming through from the other end of the line, “Juan?! Juan what the fuck is going on?”

He felt a sob locked in his throat, “Y/N, baby, we’re coming to get you, alright? You’re gonna be fine I promise.”

Neither of you got the chance to say anything more before you heard the man’s voice on the other end of the line again. “There’s your proof. Your president knows what needs to happen if you’re going to see her again. You have two hours to meet our terms or you’re never going to see your girlfriend ever again.”

“I swear to god if you fucking hurt her—” he didn’t get to finish the sentence before the man hung up on him. He shook his head, slamming his fist against the table, “Fuck!”

He stormed out of the chapel and came flying back in a minute later, laptop tucked under his arm. He sat down heavily in his chair before opening the computer and pulling up numerous windows. The guys looked on in silence, knowing that they had nothing to offer him at this point.

Jax looked over his shoulder, “What’re you doing?”

“Getting a trace on her phone’s GPS.”

“She doesn’t use the burners?”

Juice shook his head, like it was the most obvious answer in the world, “No, she doesn’t have to because she’s not a fucking criminal,” he sighed as his fingers flew across the keyboard, “I’m willing to bet that these guys were too stupid to think about that, though.”

The couple of minutes of silence while the computer programs tracked her phone seemed to stretch on for an eternity. They all looked back and forth among themselves, hoping they were going to get the answers that they wanted. After what felt like hours, they were rewarded with a quick beeping sound.

Juice immediately started rattling off the address to the entire room. He was already walking towards the chapel doors as the rest of them tried to piece together where exactly they were going.

“Abandoned warehouses out off the main drag behind the old logging place,” Juice said as he continued to leave.

They nodded, impressed that he knew it off the top of his head like that. His brain was working overtime, though. Anything to keep you safe. The guys followed him, grabbing their guns as they went. They had no idea what they were walking into but they were going to be prepared.

Juice didn’t bother waiting for the rest of the club. He was fully prepared to go into this entire situation alone despite the fact that he knew he wouldn’t have to. He sped out of the lot, forcing the rest of them to play catchup. His mind was reeling and all he knew was that he couldn’t lose you. you were the one thing that he got right and he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. No matter what it took, you were getting home safely.

He rolled into the lot, followed shortly by the rest of the MC. They all got off their bikes, getting their weapons ready. There were a few buildings to choose from, and Juice was looking to see if any of them had any signs of life in them.

“Middle one, top window,” Opie broke the silence, nodding towards the building he was talking about.

Juice looked, and he was a mixture of relieved and anxious when he saw that Opie was right. At least it meant that you were there. He just hoped that they weren’t too late.

“Hey,” Jax’s voice was quiet, but firm, “you shouldn’t be the first one in on this.”

“Fuck that,” he shook his head, refusing to be benched for this.

“You’re angry. Angry makes you stupid and stupid gets you killed. You can’t be lead on this.”

Juice stood toe-to-toe with the VP, “You can’t fucking stop me.”

He wasn’t yelling, but he didn’t need to raise his voice. His tone and the look in his eyes communicated everything. Jax sighed, nodding in defeat. If the roles were reversed, he knew he would be doing the same thing. Juice pushed past him and went towards the building, a few of the guys trailing close behind while a few more waited back in case anyone tried to leave.

They were silent as they entered the building, straining their ears to pick up on any noise. There was a mild clamoring coming from up the stairs. Juice turned to see Jax and Opie behind him, nodding for him to continue onward, that they had his back. With as little noise as possible they made their way up the stairs.

The door at the top was slightly ajar, light streaming through the crack. They could hear the laughter of the men who had you, but they couldn’t hear you. Juice’s heart was pounding inside his chest. He glanced back, using his fingers to count down before kicking the door completely open and storming in with Jax and Opie right on his heels.

The sight of you bound to a chair and gagged was enough to make Juice see red for a few moments. Tears were streaming down your face and he could see the fear in your eyes, the cut on your forehead caked in dried blood.

They all had guns pointed at each other, but your kidnappers were outnumbered two to three. And judging by the look in Juice’s eyes, he had enough rage in him for a few people.

Still, your captors forged onward like they were going to win this, “We told you this wasn’t over.”

Juice scoffed, cocking his gun, “You don’t let her go, the bullshit you have going on with Clay is going to be the least of your fucking problems. Believe me.” He could see you shaking your head, trying to urge him to stop and not make the situation worse, but he was too angry, “Let her go. She has nothing to do with this shit."

The man pressed his gun against your temple and you cried against the gag in your mouth, shutting your eyes tight. He laughed, “I’d lower that gun now if I were you.”

He shook his head, “You think you’re going to best the three of us?”

“You willing to bet her life on the fact that we won’t?”

The seconds of silence that followed felt never-ending. You still had your eyes shut tight, unable to force yourself to open them and take in the scene in front of you. If it ended badly, you didn’t want the last thing you saw to be something horrid.

The man pushed the gun harder against your temple and you winced as he spoke, “What’s it gonna be, then?”

There was another brief moment of silence but it was short-lived as the sound of gunshots filled the room. You cried, trying to make yourself as small as possible in the chair that you were in. You still couldn’t force yourself to open your eyes, knowing that the warm substance that just splattered across your face was blood and you didn’t want to know who it belonged to.

You felt someone pull at the gag in your mouth, and quickly cutting through the binds around your arms and legs. There was a hand softly put to your cheek, and the only thing that got you to open your eyes was the sound of Juice’s voice saying your name.

He was crouched in front of you, hand resting gently on your cheek as he waited for you to say or do something to indicate whether or not you were hurt. You couldn’t force any words out, so instead you leaned forward into him, head burying in the crook of his neck as you sobbed. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tight to him.

He cradled the back of your head in his hand, “It’s okay, you’re okay.” He turned back to Jax and Opie, “Go let the guys know what went down,” he paused, waiting for Jax to meet his eyes, “And tell Clay that he solves this shit tonight or I fucking will.”

You heard the sounds of their footsteps retreating out of the room. Juice pulled back from you so he could get a better look at you. You saw that you had smeared blood all over his neck and shirt. He saw the way your eyes went wide at the sight of it and instantly tilted your chin up so you were forced to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t even worry about that, alright?” his voice was soft, tears in his eyes as he looked at you, “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

You shook your head, finally making yourself speak, “No, nothing aside from my head.”

He let out a sigh of relief, “Thank god. I’m so sorry, Y/N. You never should have gotten caught up in this shit.”

“What’s gonna happen with…” your voice trailed off as you looked around the room, the carnage made your stomach turn.

Juice shook his head, “Don’t worry about that. It’ll all be taken care of,” he kissed you softly on the lips, “Let’s get you home and cleaned up. You able to ride?”

You nodded, “Yea, yea I’ll be okay.”

He scooped you up and carried you down the stairs of the warehouse. You clung tightly to him, you gripped his shirt harder than necessary, just needing the sensation of knowing that he was really there holding you. You buried your face against him, tears leaking out of your eyes and onto his neck and shirt. You heard the murmuring of the rest of the club as the two of you walked out of the warehouse, but you didn’t have the mental wherewithal to lift your head to look at or talk to any of them. In reality, you hardly heard what Juice was saying to them as he carried you over to his bike.

He gently placed his helmet onto your head and buckled it for you. He traced his thumb along your cheekbone, eyes filled with tears and love, and you wondered how he could still look at you like that when you had blood splattered across your face.

“I love you,” his voice was hardly a whisper.

“I love you too,” you practically melted into his touch.

He hopped on the bike in front of you and started to pull away. You wrapped your arms around his waist and settled against his back, shutting your eyes as you did. The only things you wanted to concentrate were the sound of his bike, the feeling of his body heat seeping from his back into your chest, and the thought of taking a shower and lying down in bed with him once you both got home. You let out a shaky breath as you squeezed your arms around him tighter for a moment, more thankful than ever that it was something that you were able to do.

[babylooneytoonz]

Sweet Temptations - Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader

A/N- So I really hadn't expected to get this one done so early. But here we go, I am done and I'm not sure if it's any good.

Summary- (Y/N) is a married woman, stuck in a loveless, unhappy marriage with one of Thomas Shelby's rivals who mistreats her and abuses her. She embarks on this forbidden affair with him.

Read part-2 here.

Warnings- MAJOR SMUT MAYBE? Porn without plot? Read it at your own risk.

Requested by- @peakyfooky

Thank you to the creators for their lovely GIFs. These aren't mine. One of them was found on the internet so if it's yours, let me know and I'll credit you❤️

"Mrs. Button?" Your housekeeper stepped into the library of your mansion, her eyes trained on you. You were perched on an armchair, a book spread out on your lap, your finger holding a lit cigarette as you brought it up to your lip, the dried gash on your bottom lip burning slightly every time you tried to speak, so you just motioned to her to come in.

"Mr. Button requests your presence in his study."

You nodded, shutting the book and standing up, stubbing the cigarette into the ashtray and placing the book back on the rack from where you had pulled it out. You wondered what that vile, evil man who your parents had married you off to, for money, was upto now.

You were twenty four, married to this man for two years and still childless, because he was more into filthy street whores than he was into you. But you were okay with it. You would have felt worse if he had wanted your body.

Wrapping your arms around your body and rubbing the sides of your arms, you walked down the well lit hallway, towards the mahogany door that smelt like cigarettes and booze from a distance. You placed yourself by the door and knocked, hearing a grunt from inside. You stepped in, your eyes falling on the vile creature that sat lounged over the desk, his feet sprawled up on the desk, his baloon belly evident from underneath the layer of rich fabric that made up his shirt.

"Where were you last night eh? The maids fucking tell me you went out."

You bit the insides of your cheeks– there was nothing you wanted to do more than to slap the smug look from his face but the fresh gash from two days back still reminded you of what kind of a sick, twisted fuck he was.

"We were out of bread so I– "

"So I what? When I've given you twelve fucking maids to do these things for you, why do you insist on still going out? To whore yourself to men? Why?"

"Seriously, Michael– "

Before you could even reply, he had grabbed the nearest object on his desk, a tiny round decorative item that he had brought from his trip to America and thrown it towards you. Maybe they were your reflexes, but you found yourself ducking at the right time, the tiny object slamming into the wall behind you and breaking into many tiny pieces.

"You fucking bitch." He hissed,licking over his malignant, yellow teeth when there was a knock on the door.

"What the fuck do you want eh?" He yelled, his eyes not moving from yours as now you stood in a corner, your hands curled into fists, kneading into the fabric of your dress as anger coursed through you like lava.

The door opened and one of your husband's henchmen stepped in.

"Boss, Thomas Shelby's here."

Thomas Shelby– the striking blue eyed devil– the only one that managed to irk your husband beyond capacity, that one reason you were thankful to him for. Your husband was so busy planning and plotting to get this Thomas Shelby out of the picture, he didn't focus that much on you, for which you were grateful for.

"Bring the bastard in, of course." Your husband pursed his lips, his eyes flying to you. "Get us a drink now."

"I thought you had twelve fuckin' maids to do this for you." You spat angrily, moving to the liquor cabinet when the door finally opened and the atmosphere in the room changed and the wafting fragrance of a man's eu de cologne spread through your nostrils, a warm welcoming fragrance, that reminded you of anything but your husband's sweaty stink. The man that walked in was a handsome one, a cap placed over his side shaven head, his long coat flowing in after him. He had a cigarette in his grip. If you didn't know better, you wouldn't think this man was dangerous.

"Mr. Button, I see you accepted to meet me at such a short notice eh."

"Sit down, Mr. Shelby. I hear you have a proposition for me."

It was as though you were invisible in a corner but it was your husband's words that pulled you put of your concentrated stare on the man that had just walked in.

"What you fuckin' doing there eh? Can we bloody have our drinks?"

Mr. Button's directed gaze towards you caused the handsome stranger's head to snap towards you and that's when your eyes met his icy, blue ones, and unknowingly, you parted your lips, letting your tongue slide out and moisten your lower lip. There was something electrifying about the eyes; an imaginary pull that seemed to be binding you to him.

Quietly, you walked up to the men, placing your drinks on the desk for either of them and looked up at your husband.

"Can I do anything else for you, dear husband?" You said, sarcastically.

"Yes, just fuck off."

"Gladly." You muttered under your breath, taking a step away to turn towards the door, but not without sharing one last lingering glance with Thomas Fuckin' Shelby.

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

You could hear the men screaming from your bedroom but you couldn't care. In fact, a part of you found thrill in an imagination that maybe, a bad scuffle will take place and somehow, your husband will be killed in action. You had just stepped out of the shower, wearing nothing but an almost sheer negligee, a towel wrapped around your head and a loose fitting robe that hadn't been knotted up in the center. You could hear the sound of the motorcar from your window so out of curiousity, you walked up to the window and fixed yourself to it.

You could see the leader of the Peaky Blinders get into his motorcar with the men that had accompanied him, the car slowly pulling off the driveway. You bit your lip, too hard, drawing out blood, the metallic taste spreading in your mouth. You wanted him to look up at the window once and as if he had read your thoughts, his eyes flew up to the window, catching you staring at him. You didn't realize why, but a smile broke out against your lip, your palm latching to the glass pane of the window, as you watched him drive away.

It was almost two minutes later when you heard the sound of the motorcar again, and this time when you looked, relief spread through you when you saw your husband and a few of his men leave in their cars. At least now you had the house to yourself, atleast for a few hours. Usually when he left around midnight, he wasn't back until 9 or 10 the next morning.

You took off the towel, drying off your wet hair that were now clinging to your body, droplets of water running down your neck. You wrapped the robe around your frame, pulling out a cigarette from the box and lighting it as you stepped out of your room and walked down the hallway to the library on the ground floor– the only room in this godforsaken mansion that didn't feel alien to you– the only room that you found yourself spending most of your time in.

The minute you stepped into the hallway, a shiver ran down your spine as the chilly wind hit you, causing you to realize that the connecting door to the garden from the library was wide open.

"Hello? Janice? Is that you?" You called out, hoping to find your housekeeper trot inside, with a broom in her hand but no one answered. So, shrugging your shoulders in an incoherent manner, you walked up to the glass door, bolting it shut from the inside when you heard it, the unmistakable sound of a footstep creaking against the wooden floorboards somewhere, in the library, with you.

A sudden fear gripped you, you knew your husband had many, many enemies and it wouldn't be unusual for one of the crazy ones to have sneaked into your home and was now hiding in the library, somewhere, alone with you. You quickly grabbed a candlestick, curling your fingers tighter against the iron, taking a small, yet cautious step towards the library. Your eyes scanned the book racks, trying to spot anyone hiding in between them, your mind alert when suddenly, you saw him.

He was just a shadow, lurking in a dark corner at the back of your library, shielded by the last book rack, but you could see that he was facing you.

"I can see you, you know." You murmured in your husky voice, ready to strike him with the candlestick when he finally stepped out from the dark, into the light, your eyes now adjusting to see who he was.

"You." Was all you could manage to say, your heart suddenly palpitating, your knees already feeling like jelly. There stood the man you had secretly been sharing glances with all day, right in front of you, within your arms reach.

"My husband's not here, Mr. Shelby, this visit of yours is very inappropriate." You commented, half heartedly, meaning no word of it.

"Yet you made no fuss, Mrs. Button. When you could have screamed and alerted everyone in your home." Thomas Shelby's lips held the slightest of smirks against its corners, but his eyes were emotionless and bland.

You didn't loosen your grip over the candlestick, your eyes following every movement that the man made, as you saw him pull out his box of cigarettes and nip one between his teeth. His other hand moved to the pocket of his coat, pulling out a box of matches but somehow, it fell from his hand and fell to the floor, settling right in between you and him.

You took a step closer, your eyes still on him as you bent and grabbed the box, before he could. You then pulled out a match, lighting it and stepped closer towards him to help him light the end of his stick, his features appearing even more glorious under the pale flickering light of the match.

"I saw you leave in your car."

"You should be more careful with that door." He pointed towards the back entrance of your library that led to the garden. "Any lad can get in through the back and not all of them will be here for– "

"For what, Mr. Shelby?" You cut him off abruptly.

You could feel a weird, tingly sensation in your fingers. You wanted to reach out and hook your fingers on the fabric of his coat, take it off. So you did. His eyebrow shot up in surprise for he hadn't expected you to be so forward. You tugged slightly on his coat and smiled, "We have a fireplace in here that should be warm enough, Mr. Shelby, I don't think you'll need your coat. May I?"

You helped him slide out of his coat first before holding it in your hands and making your way to the coat hanger and hanging it over. Your eyes fell on the library door and like a stealthy cat, you quickly swiped the door shut, trying to hide this little whatever this was from the employees of your house.

"Care for a drink Mr. Shelby?"

He hummed in response, his eyes fixed on you, moving slightly lower and then back up again. It was funny how this one act of vulgarity didn't seem to phase you, and in fact you even liked it. You slowly turned away from him, walking up to the other side of the room, your bare feet grazing against the carpeted floor on this side. You pushed yourself up on your toes, trying to pull out the bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, making sure to give him a good view of you from behind. Your fingers clasped against the neck of the bottle as you pulled it down from the top rack and poured it carefully into two glasses, taking them back to him.

He gladly accepted the drink, his fingers almost brushing with yours when he took the glass, causing shivers to run down your spine. You knew it– the game that he was playing – intentionally touching you so very subtly, knowing how you were actually enjoying the flirting.

"What's a woman of your likes doing with a man like him?"

You could sense the distaste behind his words so you just parted your lips and let out a weak sigh before taking a sip of your whiskey.

"Call it a punishment for being born into a greedy family. Sold me off to the monster for some good pounds like I was a mare." You commented.

"Why didn't you run away? You could have gone to London, or even to America."

"It's not that easy, not when you're married to a gangster. You out of all men should understand that." You said, relishing the bitter yet sweet taste of the whiskey on your taste buds.

"Mr. Shelby, enough about me. I wanted to know the reason for your visit. I know you're not here to meet Michael." You slurred.

You saw the man's eyebrow twitch but you couldn't determine if it was out of amusement or something else. After a lingering minute of silence, you watched as he downed the whiskey in one go, almost slamming the glass back against one of the racks.

"Can we skip past the formalities now, Mrs. Button? I think you know why I am here."

You couldn't deny it. You and this man had a sizzling chemistry. There was a raw desire spurting inside you, that wanted nothing more to be satiated. You could feel it– the sexual tension, the need to touch each other, the need to feel him touch you at places you had forgotten how a man's touch felt like.

You nodded.

Thomas Shelby's hands grabbed you, his hands locking around your waist as he pulled you into his embrace and slowly turned around, so you were now pinned against the rack, his front pressing into you. You could feel his slow, ready grinding against your core, causing your body to erupt into a sensation of desires, like small electric short circuits everywhere. You parted your lips and let out a low moan, only to be shut up when his lips slammed against yours in a needy way. You were a believer, a devout Christian by faith, you knew the temptations the Devil was capable of and you knew that Thomas Shelby was nothing more than the devil in disguise. But this didn't deter you from wanting to taste into the fruit of sin.

Your hands curled around his head, your fingers latching into the back of his head, tugging at his hair, your mouth struggling to keep pace with the sweet assault on them. His pupils dilated due to his lust for you, he kissed you, ravaging your lips, biting and tugging at them in the most animalistic way.

"Fuckin' hell." You cursed as his teeth almost bit into the gash on your lip, the one where your husband had mercilessly beat you a few nights before, the taste of your own metallic blood in your mouth. Maybe Tommy tasted it too, for he immediately pulled away, his hands still holding you in place.

"Did he do this to you?"

You nodded.

"Come with me then. Leave that man." Those were the words he said to you as he grabbed you by your hand and dragged you to the desk in the corner.

"And go where? He'll find me. You know I can't fucking do that." For once, you could feel yourself weaken, the sudden realization of it all seeping through you, that you were trapped in a life full of torture and abuse and there was nothing you could do about it.

"I'll think of something, until then –" he brought his palm up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over the gash on your lip that was bleeding now.

"Thomas– " You moaned.

Maybe the way his name rolled out of your lips was too much for him to bear, he literally started ripping your robe off in an attempt to free you of it while you hands fervently ran against the buttons of his shirt to get it off. Clothes were ripped off and the library floor was stocked with piles of discarded clothes, both of you naked and beautiful under each other's eyes, by the desk by the fireplace.

Tommy's hands grabbed your bare arse, kneading it lightly until he barked at you to turn over and you complied. You felt vulnerable, bent on your own desk with nothing to cover your modesty, his eyes snaking over your back, your arse but you liked it. So much so that you were horrified if someone was to hear you, not because of what your husband would do to you, but because of how you would have to part with this man right now when you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside you.

"For fucks sake, Thomas, I need you now. I don't want anyone to– "

"Your wish is my fuckin' command." Was all he said. That was all the warning you received.

And then you screamed in a sweet, pleasurable pain when he thrust his hard cock into you, making you grab the edge of the table while his nails dug into your hips. A series of curses followed and soon, you found yourself enjoying the way his cock was ravaging your core. His pace inside you was relentless, his hits merciless, hitting you at just the right spot every time, causing you to just sneak closer to your edge with every hit.

"Fuck," Tommy grunted in a low voice, sliding in and out of you, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing through the library.

"Fucking hell, Thomas– " You seethed, holding on to the desk as you felt your eyes roll at the back of your head, pleasure bursting inside you with every movement of his.

"You feel so good." He slurred, his voice thick with lust and desire. It was like music to your ears, a music you didn't want to stop listening to. But you also knew that all good things often come to an end. "Come for me now, love. Come on." His voice commanded you, making you tip over your edge.

And the command was all it took for you to come crashing down, your body trembling as your pussy clenched around his cock, shooting sparks all over your body. And after a few unsteady, light thrusts, you felt him twitch inside you as a final signal that he was there too, his warm seed spilling into you as he moaned something incoherent that you couldn't make out.

He stayed like that for a few silent seconds, both of yous erratic breathing empowering each others until you finally felt him slide out of you. You stood up, leaving a trail of his cum rolling down your thigh as you struggled to put your underwear on and then grabbed your robe silently while Tommy pulled his pants up and started rummaging for his torn shirt that had almost been ripped apart by you.

You bit your lip awkwardly now; a sudden void filling up your heart.

Thomas Shelby had gotten what he wanted, and maybe he would never look your way again.

Of course, this couldn't mean more than a one time thing to him, could it?

Suddenly, the sound of a match lighting brought you back into reality but you were startled to find him standing inches apart from you, his palm on your cheek, his index finger rubbing gently over your gash.

"You alright love?"

You gave him a weak smile and nodded.

You parted your lips to reply but a loud bang on the door caused you and Thomas to turn towards the door.

"Mrs. Button, is everything alright in there?" Janice called out.

"It-It is, Janice, is there anything you want?"

"Just wanted to let you know your husband's home."

"Fucking hell, looks like our time is up, Mr. Shelby," Your eyes flew to Tommy, as the curse escaped your mouth. He looked unbothered."I'll join him in a minute." You called out to Janice.

Tommy didn't say anything else. As quietly as he had come in, you saw him walk towards the door that led to your garden and you followed him. It was only when he reached the door and you unbolted it for him, did he turn and look into your eyes and speak.

"Until next time, Mrs. Button."

"Call me (Y/N). I don't want to be linked with that man. At least not with you around."

"Let me rephrase it then, until next time, (Y/N), who knows it might even be at your dear husband's funeral."

That was the last words that he spoke to you that night before you saw him sneak out through your garden until he wasn't in sight anymore and you stood there by that door, smirking inwardly at his words.

(What do you guys feel about a second part to this? Let me know?)

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

[now-im-a-belieber]

dinner and diatribes

a/n: Hello! I put it off as long as I could but I just HAD to start writing. So, Here it is, my first BoB fic! Any and all feedback is appreciated.

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After graduating and settling into the swing of the life you wanted to live, the universe seemed to actively work against you.

You did not get accepted into the college of your dreams. And the underfunded local university you wasted away at was the bane of your existence. You could barely land a job with all the hours you were required to stick to campus, and only made enough money walking dogs and watering plants to pay for tuition and the occasional new outfit. 

When you started to see the light at the end of the tunnel, with a few hundred saved away, and some time opening up to find career opportunities, the chatter about war turned from gossip to gospel. 

In fact, you'd made it all the way to the opposite side of a fine mahogany desk for your first full fledged interview when your dreams were promptly crushed. The man meant to interview you rushed in with flustered news he'd only just found out himself. He told you the company was shutting down. All the nation's money was being sorted to aid in the war. The president had called for rationing to start. 

The man was near tears when he asked you to leave, replacing a goodbye with a hopeful wish you might be able to come back again one day. 

You marched home at a loss. And the worst thing of all, was the fact that you didn't seem to have anyone to talk to about it all.

The best of your friends had moved away one by one, well meaning phone calls only coming from a couple now and again. Some weekends you managed a stroll through the park with Janice Dean. And you hadn't missed a single one of Rudy Delacroix's card parties. But the one friend you'd always been able to call upon seemed ever less interested in being a part of your life. 

Joe was busy as everyone else, you knew. But when he started canceling long standing plans, and forcing smiles when you skipped up to ask him on a last minute adventure, you realized something must have been very wrong. 

Over breakfast you'd prod him for answers. He'd joke about the state of the world and steal what was left on your plate. So, nothing could have been too wrong. Right?

Joe always entertained your random stops by, and offered you drinks and listened to you complain about uni. He’d curse the place and drag you to pubs and sneak you into films and waste hours by the waterfront laughing about nothing with you. He’d go great lengths to help you forget your dreary days, even if just for a moment. But lately you noticed Joe had stopped trading his own complaints- the kind he claimedvno one else would tolerate hearing besides you. 

And then… he stopped talking at all. Right when you figured it was time to ask what the hell the matter was. Joe wasn't at his place last you swung by, like you so often did. He didn't come around yours like he so often managed. He didn't answer his phone when you rang, and a real worry sprouted through you when the next time you tried, the line went dead.

And then you did see Joe. At the local grocer. You spotted his profile across the aisle and moved to meet him. And he clearly saw you too. When he did, he moved the other way, and disappeared from the stall all together, leaving you to panic over what you might've said or done to upset him so.

You went about your mundane week with a heavy heart. While you seemed to lose hope in the very near future, the world spiralled out of control outside of your windows. And you had no one to talk to about it. Until Joe's mother called. 

"Come round for dinner, won't you love?"

"Of course, ma." You'd been calling the woman by her motherly title since you and Joe first fused at the hip some odd years back. Since then his family had included you in most every occasion they could manage. Until a certain someone up and broke tradition a week or so ago...

"Great! Joe didn't want a big send off but we all know he'll want you to join in the last big family meal before he goes.”

His mother chirped through a sigh that crackled from the other line. And in her all too casual remark lied a clear answer to the impasse you'd been facing. 

"He what?" You asked low, through your teeth, with a sense of urgency you'd never felt in life, till now. 

"He didn't tell you did he?" Joe's mother seemed to ask less more than she seemed to realize; and before you could think up the right thing to say, you slammed the phone down, grabbed your purse, and flew out the door. 

Of course this was happening. How had you failed to realize? You shouldn't have had to realize. Joe should have told you he was shipping out. Everyone seemed to be. But he should have said so. He'd always told you everything. From the embarrassing to the inconsequential, Joe hadn't held back from droning deadly details to you since he'd started. The fact that something this detrimental had been hidden away sent smoke from your ears as you marched toward his family's home. 

The windows across the little brick cottage were all opened, the late day breeze blowing you up the porch steps. You traded knocking for bursting in the door. There wasn't time left to waste. And the realization hit you all at once… but you had a mission to complete before becoming all too overwhelmed. 

Joe's mother ducked out of way, a tray of warm food in hand. She did not try and stop your storm through the kitchen. The only one you’d taken by surprise was Joe, who turned from the sink with eyes as wide as empty dinner plates. 

"You didn't tell me?" You seethed, heading straight for him. Joe started to back away, moving toward the patio doors with his hands held in a pitiful defense. 

"I'm sorry-"

"Sorry?!"

He kept moving. So you marched after him, out into the yard; shouting all the way asking how the hell he could've kept this from you. How you were supposed to cope with all the worry you’d feel the longer he spent storming the front lines. Asking, flippantly, if he’d tell you what it was all like, or if you’d have to find out from a soldier who'd come knocking to tell the last of Joe’s news.

"I said I'm fuckin' sorry." Joe boomed, stopping near the trees that lined his family's property. You didn’t regret your frantic interrogation but you wished voicing your worst fears of losing him for good hadn’t been what finally got Joe to say something like he meant it.

You halted when he did, stunned to silence. But only for a beat. You watched Joe sigh and bring his hands to his face. 

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" You pressed, much quieter but with disappointment ever present in your tone. You stepped a little closer, willing your friend to speak up. At least now you could see he was trying too. Joe tossed his head back, and shifted his weight to lean against a dying tree. 

"I don't know." He shrugged finally. It wasn't what you wanted to hear, but it was more than you had in awhile.

"I-I guess I didn't know how to." Joe spoke in a tone you'd never quite heard him use before. A terribly hopeless croak. 

"Didn't know how to tell me?" You had to laugh a little. All you ever did was tell each other things. 

"Didn't know how to leave you." Joe pointed, like it was obvious. You watched his jaw clench as you were baffled into silence once more. But only for a second.

"Well it seems like you've only got one night left to figure out how." You wanted to cry. "Thanks for wasting all the time we could've spent figuring it out together." 

You started to turn, only to hide the tears stinging your eyes. But as you stepped aside, Joe wrapped his hand around your wrist and yanked you to face him again.

"I'm an idiot but I am not stupid enough to let you go." He said, still keeping his hold on you. 

"I panicked." Joe admitted, speaking softly all of sudden. "And I’m sorry. And I don't ever want anything like that to ever happen again. I won't let it." 

You studied Joe and the look on his face and the way his eyes searched yours so easily, so acutely. Part of you wanted to keep shouting, to really drive home how abandoned you’d felt. But you could see how he'd withered under the weight of knowing so. But you couldn't even begin talking about what was meant to happen next... it was all too overwhelming. For as long as you could remember, you'd never not been near one another. 

"I wished I never had to find out how shitty a day without you felt. I'll always regret bringing it on.

As your mind raced and your heart ached, your brow furrowed when Joe started to move away from you. His spare hand latched onto your other wrist. And he knelt.

"I didn't mean to leave you out. I never want to again." Joe emphasized each word as he strung them together. And after a long pause he spoke again. "So...marry me?"

You wanted to laugh. A good hearty nausea inducing laugh. You could admit to yourself that over the years, in the very depths of solitude, you'd secretly wished for a moment like this, with Joe. But never in a zillion years, least of all now, had you seen it coming. 

You felt Joe's grip tighten as you blinked, bending ever so slightly closer to meet his eye.

"You're fucking crazy." You said, a montage of this week playing through your head. 

"Please." Joe desperately whispered. He wasn't begging you to be with him. He was only hoping that the two of you might make your always being together official. How could you say no?

"Yeah. Yes, of course, Joe-" You finally let a small chuckle escape as your tears started to bubble over. And before you'd finished stammering acceptance, Joe sprung to his feet and lifted yours off the ground in a long overdue embrace. 

He set you down and caught his breath and you started to lean in with a new, unabashed desire to press yours lips to his. But the guy spoke up with a gasped realization.

"Oh, I have got some good news." He grinned, mischievously. You only rose a brow and waited for the penny to drop. 

"I don't leave for a week." 

You understood every possibility that came from his news, and found despite every grim reality closing in around the two of you that the future was full of blindingly bright silver linings. 

Joe lifted you off the ground again, this time as he moved to start back inside. You bargained for him to put you back down, as he carried you toward the kitchen.

"We're getting married!" Joe called to whoever might've been around to listen. 

"That was quick. And just in time for dinner." His mother chirped, as you were returned to solid ground.

"Quick? I've been tryin' to do that since sometime after highschool." Joe pointed, following as you sauntered further in the room, smoothing your clothes and hiding a blush. 

"I meant the two of you have spatted longer over the color of the sky." His mother held a whisk your way, while fixing her eyes on her son. "I'm glad you worked this one out in record time." 

Joe reached for your hand as you stood, listening best you could, all of your senses entirely preoccupied by the man at your side. 

"And have you finally come to this joyous conclusion?" His mother softened, abandoning her dishes to shuffle toward the two of you. She gave out hugs and squeaks of excitement and gasped before taking off around the corner. She beckoned the two of you to follow her, and after a shared chuckle you did. 

His mother was stood at the vanity in her room, waving the pair of you in. And after only a second of pilfering through draws, did she pull out a ring. She gave it to Joe and said it was his grandmothers. The spritely woman shot you a beaming wink before creeping out of the door she'd only just invited you into. 

Then it was just you and Joe. Like usual. At fucking last.

He said nothing as he reached out to pull you nearer. He bit back a smile as he slid the diamond on your finger. Joe broke your admiration of the thing by placing both his hands on either side of your face. And he kissed you like you always dreamed of being kissed. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back like you always secretly longed to do. 

You spent the rest of that night squished between him and his family at the dinner table, like usual. They celebrated your news. And there was very little talk of where Joe was headed. But when he brought up the war and his leaving, he held your hand under the table and you felt the hug of the gold band around your finger and couldn't find reason to worry too much. You’d have time enough for that later. You'd miss him. You already did, a little. 

But you'd gotten through the worst yet, and come out of it hand in hand. But before he left, till heaven only knew when, you’d officially and always be together.

[packsbeforesnacks]

You Wanna Ride It, My Mimercycle || Noah & Winn

TIMING: Monday, May 4th, 2020, Sunset LOCATION: The Veterinary Clinic PARTIES: @noah-kalani & @packsbeforesnacks SUMMARY: Local Wolf Man (and Friend) Caught Murdering Mimes, More at 11 (”Do you need a license to drive a mimercycle? Asking for a friend.”) WARNINGS: None.

Winn had been riding home when he’d heard the howl, stopping off near the turn to his cabin to message Ariana and Miles in a mild panic. And they’d both been fine, and Kaden wasn’t involved, and that should’ve been the end of it. But it wasn’t. Winn was still reeling over Miles having a secret (well, unknown to him) brother, and that brother being in trouble with fucking Hunters. This was why Winn hadn’t wanted to get close to wolves! (‘Course, the voice in the back of his head was quick to remind him, it was nice to have folks worth carin’ about again.) His mind drifted to Noah unbidden, still stuck on the other night — and the mornin’ after. 

But before he could interrogate his feelings on the other man, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, an unfamiliar scent blowing into his face. Or, more accurately, an intimately familiar scent. There was a black-and-white blur ahead of him on the deserted road. Aw, fuck. Not now. Havin’ to think about his stalker was already bad, and now the fuckin’ mime was showin’ up at the worst possible time. He wasn’t anywhere near the station yet, this part of town only vaguely familiar to him. Winn revved his bike, pulling forward. And to his horror, Winn discovered his stalker wasn’t alone. Oh no. That would be too kind of the Universe. Instead, Winn’s mime was, oh God, riding other mimes? The unholy blob beneath Winn’s mime-self was the twisted, mottled form of a bike, the naked hands and feet of two faceless mimes pedaling it along like the worst Flintstones special. The seat and handles were… Oh, for fuck’s sake. Winn would recognize those dimples anywhere. But why was Noah’s mime-self here?

To say it had been a bit of a rough day at the clinic for one Noah Kalani might be a bit of an understatement. From the computer error that mixed up appointment reminders (No Mrs. Seawol, Alfred was not scheduled to get snip sniped today, that text was a mistake) to one very very heartbreaking euthanasia (yes he broke down and cried once the owner left) he had been put through the wringer in more ways that one, so much so that the Dr Choi took one look at him at the reception desk –silently munching on the lunch he almost forgot to eat– and sent him outside to get some air and some sunshine on his face. Sitting there on the bench next to the parking lot though Noah couldn’t help but fidget in his scrubs. It was almost 5pm.  He just had to make it till then and he could go home, take a shower, cuddle with his own pup, and not agonize over the weird Winn situation of the other night.. But of course like always the universe had other plans, and they were unfolding right before his very eyes.

Winn’s brain had scarcely put together a joke about riding Noah when it all went to Hell. Ricky had warned him. “More aggressive,” he’d said. And the, what, demons were exactly that. The mime-motorcycle (mimercycle, ugh) seemed bent on runnin’ him off the road, as silently as possible. It rammed into the side of Winn’s bike, Winn’s tires skidding on the road as he tried to avoid going down in a blaze of gore-y. His phone flew out of his hand where he’d half-composed a text to Ariana and onto the pavement at a crisp sixty miles an hour. (Don’t text and drive, he guessed.) Fuck, why wasn’t there anyone out, it was, like, five! They were headin’ towards a more populated town, he knew. Given the mimes’ dislike of a public stage, that meant that, soon, he’d either be dead or the mimes were about to make the evenin’ news. And Winn still hadn’t figured out why Noah’s mime wa— Aw, goddammit. He knew that scent, mixed with the scent of a dozen or more other animals, but still distinctly Noah. 

Way Winn saw it, he had two options now. Keep drivin’ towards the other man, riskin’ both their lives or… well, actually, he didn’t have much of a choice. The mimercycle caught up to him again, ramming him from the back and almost pitchin’ Winn off his bike. He slammed on the brakes, just enough that he heard the crunch of at least one of the mimes’ bones as it made contact with the metal. He abandoned the bike, running the rest of the way up to the veterinary clinic to greet his friend. “Hey, uh, take this, but do not touch the blade” he said, pullin’ his silver knife out its sheath and pressing it gently into Noah’s hands. “Silent-but-deadly is about to catch up to us. And, like, maybe focus on them instead of me if you don’t want to see my ass again.” Winn kicked off his boots and threw his jacket towards the clinic. This wasn’t how Winn wanted Noah to see the wolf for the first time, but there wasn’t any other choice. He couldn’t — wouldn’t — let Noah get hurt because he was scared. Never again.

Watching as the nightmarish scene played out before his very eyes, Noah couldn’t exactly figure out where to look first. Because in front of him was now a very sweaty looking Winn, his motorcycle, a terrifying mishmash of limbs dressed in black and white stripes, and oh, hey guess what. Looks like those are mimes. Fantastic. Just what he needed. The cherry on top of the perfectly fucked up day. Figuring it was better to roll with the metaphorical punches White Crest was dolling out than even try to question it (because mimes? really?), Noah sprung into action, closing the last few feet between him and Winn (oh hey hello Winn, nice to see you too, next time bring liquor, not not a shitshow of mimes) the wolf inside of him already relishing the possibility of a fight. Taking a split second, however, he looked over Winn, hoping that the other man wasn’t injured or anything, because that would make whatever this was going to turn into just that much harder. But just as soon as Noah finished his visual assessment on the man in front of him, Winn was pressing a blade into his hands, a silver knife to be exact. The thought making Noah’s skin already start to itch. “Wait, Winn, what the hell—” Noah started before Winn simply transformed.

It was near the Moon, a fact that Winn’s wolf was fully and completely aware of. He had time, just barely, to bark out a “Kill your own mime or it’ll come back.” It came out half as a growl, Winn’s teeth and jaw already warping into his lupine form. It was a little painful tonight, Winn noticed. But maybe the wolf was just eager to get its claws into a victim. He flung himself forward, knocking off his own mime, the clusterfuck of the mimercycle speeding along comically and crashing into a trash can sitting outside of the veterinary clinic. Uh-oh. They didn’t look very happy. Fortunately, neither did Noah. The other man was tense — hell, if he were a full wolf, Winn was almost sure he’d have burst into fur already. 

He didn’t have much time to wonder how Noah’s day had been, though, when his own mime slammed back into him, still in human form, just barely knocking the breath out of Winn. Maybe Winn would get lucky. Maybe his mime wasn’t a werewolf-mime, just a really-strong-human-ish-mime. He growled, clawing at the asphalt beneath his paws, rearing up on his leg. Was it too much to ask for his mime to get scared off? Apparently so. The mime grinned, all teeth, but without Winn’s trademark mirth. It was unnerving. And then, it started miming. It was… loading something? Into a… gun? No. Not a gun. A crossbo— Oh, fuck no, not this shit again. Winn’s reaction time, thank fuck, was great as a wolf when he wasn’t drunk as piss, and he rolled out of the way just in time. He heard the “bolt” thunk into something, it slowly fading into corporeality, the contours of the object becoming real. He whined in Noah’s general direction, trying to warn him that these assholes meant business. Why’d his mime get the cool toys?

“Kill your own mime or it’ll come back.” Those were the last words Winn spoke before he turned, body morphing into a full beast. He was hauntingly beautiful like this, Noah would have to give him that. But now was not the time to contemplate just how beautiful your wolf friend was in his other form, or how badly part of your heart ached to join him. Turning toward the mess that was currently trying to excavate itself from behind the dumpster, Noah noticed someone familiar, his trademark dimples somehow menacing on his painted face. Fucking hell, this mime looked like him, this mime looked like HIM. What the actual fuck. But Noah had no time to really contemplate this horrific being in front of him, because as soon as it stood up it was miming something. What, Noah had no clue and no time to find out. Fuckity fuck fuck. Focusing his energy, Noah lunged, trying to put what little knife training he had into practice, but not before the mime swung at him, some sort of invisible weapon tearing at the sleeve of his scrubs and ripping into the flesh of his forearm. Shit. The mime was miming a fucking invisible weapon. Noah’s eyes widened a little bit, fear now clouding his eyes, especially as the other two mimes flailed in the background. Okay, Kalani. Focus. You brought a knife to a mime fight and you are woefully outnumbered. 

Watching as the other two mimes started slowly resembling something more like humanoid beings and less like a collection of limbs, Noah knew what he had to do. And so he did it. He sprinted headfirst towards the obvious danger, throwing the knife as forcefully as he could, body already getting low and bracing for impact. Tackling. He was made for full contact, that much was evident as he rolled through the impact. Luckily the knife had caught in the mime in his shoulder before it had time to swing the invisible weapon at him, knocking it off balance and giving Noah just enough time to tackle. Excellent. Now get out of here and re-group, he urged himself as he scrambled away from, well, himself, hoping he wasn’t about to get jumped by the two other mimes while he was on the ground. 

But luckily, his getaway was smoother than expected, eyes focusing on one thing and one thing only, getting away from the mimes. But not before he saw something manifest next to the pile of mime limbs. It was comical almost how horrifying the manifestation was, jagged nails sticking out of a long bat shaped piece of wood. Yeah, it figured his own mime would conjure up something athletic. Scrambling as fast as he could,Noah grabbed his new weapon, hoping that Winn would forgive him for the change. Because yeah, he wasn’t really good with knives, but he sure as hell could swing a bat. And it was a good thing too, because as he straightened up into a standing position so did the other two mimes.

Winn had about had it with this mime fuckery, and the fight hadn’t even been going on that long. He saw pieces of Noah’s fight, flickering across his eyes as he avoided bolt after bolt, trying to get close to his own mime to get it out of the way. Just for a second, just long enough to help Noah. Three mime demons on one human was not a fair fight, and Winn could get rid of the other two easily enough. He just needed to get there. Winn saw Noah knife the Noah-mime (score one for Kalani), the smell of human blood lighting up his senses as the wind told him of Noah’s injury (ugh, score one for mimes). Damn it. Another bolt thunked into a nearby tree, and Winn decided to focus on his own mime. Noah’s mime was crumpled, momentarily, a few feet away. Winn’s mime had murder in its eyes, the smile gone from its face. Clearly, its memory of the incident with Kaden had left out some key details. Did it really think Winn was an easy target? As if. 

Winn rushed it, snarling and gnashing his teeth. He really hated to do this, but… He dove under one of the bolts as it launched, and latched his teeth into his mime’s leg. There was a flicker of hesitation in his heart, half-sure that biting the mime would hurt him. But fortunately, no such horror happened. He reared up on his hind-legs, spinning in a half circle and launching his mime into Noah’s, both of them rolling in an unholy tangle down the street just enough to (hopefully) give him time. And time he needed. Noah had, somehow, a bat straight off of The Walking Dead, and that motherfucker was currently being swung in the direction of the two minion-mimes. He grunted, landing beside Noah. Time to even the odds. 

Winn feinted at the left mime, the muted fear leading the mime to open its mouth in a silent scream as a hulking wolf-man headed its way, but at the last second he, and his outstretched claws, dove for the mime on the right. It was a close thing, and Winn hoped Noah could deal with the mime-that-who-pissed-itself, but Winn’s claws sank true and deep into the mime’s gut. He stuck his other paw out and into the mime’s stomach, yanking as hard as this form could, and the mime exploded into a puff of black-and-white smoke. One down, three to— Fuck. 

Something slammed into Winn’s side, hard. He rolled, rolled, and stopped, panting. And before him stood himself. Only this time, there was no easy smile, no mimed crossbow. Oh no. The mime had decided to get serious. And that meant Winn staring into his own eyes… as the wolf. A monster, hulking, as warped as Winn was elegant. It was a facsimile, the copy not quite right. Mutilated, likely, by the times it had been thrown around. Its fur was the worst part, striped as all mimes were, lines drawn across its powerful body like a warning. Danger. Where was a Hunter when you needed one?

Finally upright, Noah hardly had any time to take in his surroundings, or address the slippery trickle of blood he could feel slowly sliding down his arm, before a mass of black and white was hurtling toward his menacing imposter, knocking the mime down once again. Winn. He’d forgotten momentarily about the other man — correction, wolf — he was fighting alongside, but he was grateful for the assist nevertheless, especially as the two mime demons started their slow creep towards him, hands already shaping invisible items. Watching Winn out of the corner of his eyes, Noah was determined to bat cleanup (all puns intended) and swung with all his might at the mime Winn had left, resulting in a perfect headshot. And just like that, the demon vanished in a puff of smoke, marking their kill count as two. 

Using this split second of time to catch his breath, Noah looked around, hoping they were somehow winning? That's when he saw it. The grotesque caricature of a werewolf, one might say, striped, lumbering, its back to him, its eyes focused on one thing and one thing only. Winn. It was safe to say Noah didn’t know much about mimes, nor did he know much about werewolves, or the terrifying hybrid of both (yeah, he was going to have nightmares for YEARS). But watching his mime counterpart starting to stand again, hands clawing desperately at his wound, black sludge oozing, no, sizzling slowly out of the edges he knew one thing for sure. He actually did need that knife. Letting go of the bat, Noah dove low towards his own likeness again, bracing for another impact and using his momentum to carry him through. Tackling like this was infinitely harder without pads, but the adrenaline coursing through him refused to let him forget his years of muscle memory as he crashed yet again to the ground on top of 200 pounds of mime. 

Scrambling to get into a sitting position before an all too familiar pair of arms wrapped around him, Noah swung a couple of punches, channeling his own wolfy brute force and aggression to make them count. “Stay DOWN, you fucking MOTHER. FUCKER!” he screamed into his own face, the irony of the moment definitely not lost on him. But, of course, Noah had bigger fish to fry than to think about how much therapy he was going to need after this. Hoping his mime was stunned enough, Noah grabbed the knife and wrenched it out, hands, feet, and legs somehow clambering out of one special hell and into another. But not before he cocked his arm and aimed the already blackened, bloody knife into the meaty striped back of monstrous mime-wolf.

There were things that Winn knew about himself which, considering the crossbow situation, he had to assume that maybe this cursed thing knew too. For example, since the incident with Kaden, he was, ever-so-slightly, weaker on one side. Winn had learned to compensate, and knew that, soon, the Moon would undo the last of the damage the silver had done. The mime, though, wasn’t actually a wolf, and Winn could tell. It was in the way that it moved, the way that it seemed on-edge, even in its pure aggression. Winn, however, was intimately aware of his furrier half. And that was the edge he needed. The wolf inside (outside?) of him was howling, urging him onward to kill, kill, kill. 

Winn clawed once, twice, quickly swiping at the mime. He wasn’t trying to hit it, just throw it off-balance. Wolves were strong, he wouldn’t be able to just tear open its chest. But if he could get it on its back, he could tear out its throat. The soft skin was the weakest point he could think of, and he didn’t have the dagger on him (and he shuddered to think what it might do to him in this form). They went back-and-forth like that, as Winn heard Noah shout at his own double. He couldn’t make it out, too focused, but he could feel the fury from Noah. He wanted to howl in pride. The mime hesitated, hearing the fight behind it (and, oh God, did they care about each other?), and Winn saw his opportunity, sweeping his claws low at the side that Kaden had injured. As he made contact, he felt the mime-wolf tense — not from him, but from a knife to its back. He and Noah had gotten lucky, or maybe they were just in-sync, because the silver dagger sank true. (And Winn shuddered, for just a moment, remembering how the dagger had felt in his own back.) 

But this was his chance. He followed through, tripping the mime up and shoving it hard, on its back. Its mouth opened in a silent scream as the silver jammed deeper into its back, its neck exposed. And Winn went for the kill, snarling as he ripped its throat out, the body fading in striped waves as the mime choked on its own tar. But this wasn’t over, not yet. He needed to help Noah. The dagger laid in front of him, messy and black, and Winn took a chance. Winn made an angry, barking sound, trying to get Noah’s attention, before picking up the knife in his mouth (barely missing the silver of the blade) and flinging it in a high arc through the air. Alright, football boy. Fetch.

Letting the knife quite literally slip out of his hands from all of the mime blood it was drenched in, Noah hoped he had helped in some capacity, the wound in the mime-wolf’s back already bubbling out thick, viscous black sludge. It was almost as if the skin was boiling off, and Noah couldn’t help the shiver that went down his spine. Was this really what happened when real wolves came in contact with silver knives? Because if so, then that was the real scary stuff right there. Bringing his focus back to the task at hand Noah made sure to wipe what he could off his hands on his scrubs, his wolf healing not fast enough to really seal the wound, but just fast enough to keep him from feeling the effects of his blood loss. 

Looking around for the bat from hell, Noah stared in horror as it dawned on him. In his haste to help Winn he’d accidentally thrown the bat towards his mime, not away from him. Fuck his life. Because yeah, he was left weaponless, watching helplessly as his mime-self did not fucking stay down like he had been so kindly asked to do. Hearing the bark from behind him, though, Noah turned just in time to see Winn’s wolf form pitch forward, something silver hurtling in an upward arc towards him. Wait, was that the knife? Oh thank heavens, the flying thing was the knife. Wait… no, no, no, the knife was flying, spinning like an unwieldy bullet, and, oh God, who did Winn think he was? Tom Brady? Because he was most definitely not Tom Brady. No, Noah was trained to go crash crash boom boom, not spinny twirly jumpy catchy. 

But seeing as how the wolf gave him no choice, up Noah went, praying to all that was holy that he could manage to catch the knife on the butt end. It took a second, maybe less before the younger boy completed his jump, hand luckily catching the knife with only minimal damage to the palm of his hand. Readjusting his grip, Noah twisted back toward his own mimesona, its dimples still pulled in that menacing smile. Holding the knife as tightly as he could, Noah sprinted forward, using his own body as a battering ram of sorts before he plunged the knife into the heart of the mime, pitching them backwards and onto the concrete for the third and last time. And just like that, it was over, a pile of oozing black goo where his own grizzly persona had once stood.

Fucking… hell. “I hate mimes,” Winn said — or, well, tried to say. It came out as a whiny, half-growl, the lupine mouth trying to create sounds it was simply incapable of. The wolf was… happy. More or less. Noah wasn’t badly injured, Winn and Noah had defeated their mimes, and Winn’s bike was still in working condition. Winn’s clothes, however, had not survived the experience. And though mime magic (maybe?) had kept the town clear, Winn doubted that his luck would last for much longer. He needed to get inside, and he needed to get inside now. If he were a born wolf, he could transform further, pretend to be… a really big dog? Noah could lie. Hopefully. Maybe. Winn went over to the other man, sniffing at his injury and whining in the back of his throat. It was healing. Not as fast as Winn would heal, in the same situation, but it would be fine. He could tell. Noah was covered in mime goop, though even that was fading into puffs of striped smoke. 

He huffed out a noise, taking Noah into his arms and hugging him as the wolf, careful not to let his claws hurt Noah. He dwarfed the man, in this form, but he could already feel the adrenaline running out of his body. The wolf was tired, and that meant, well, Winn had two options. He could hope that Noah forgave him for yet another incident involving Winn’s dick, or he could run away. Winn knew what he had to do. He picked up Noah quickly, carrying them over to the alleyway beside the clinic, obscured, just barely, by the dumpster that had been shoved in the fight, and turned back, still embracing the other man. He was glad, so glad, that he was okay. He… didn’t know what he would have done if Noah had been hurt. He didn’t know what Noah would have done if Winn hadn’t been there to help fend off the mimes. 

Winn leaned his head into Noah’s shoulder. He smelled, he knew, pretty bad, the mime gunk leaving a stench from the places it had congealed in his fur. If that smell didn’t come out, Winn would have to stand in the rain for the next week. Wet dog was better than dead mime. “So,” he said, after holding Noah for a long moment, “I’m naked, and gross. Do y’all have a shower and, uh, can I borrow your scrubs? Don’t want to ruin a nicer pair of clothes, since those seem not long for this world. I can, uh, I can stay here until it’s all clear. Just bring me, uh, a towel or somethin’?” He was rambling. Winn pulled back from the hug, looking into Noah’s eyes, and feeling that same pull he’d been trying to forget about. Sober, Winn resisted, a half-smile forming on his face. “We kinda kicked ass, huh?”

Even covered in the stupid mime goop, that was already starting to evaporate into oddly striped smoke, Noah couldn’t help but smile. He did it. They did it. How? He didn’t have the slightest clue, but that wasn’t what mattered, in this moment anyway. No what mattered was Winn. As if on cue, Noah felt the wolf’s arms wrap around him, a weird feeling of comfort washing over him. “Hey bud,” he whispered softly, hand reaching up to intertwine into the course fur surrounding Winn’s muzzle. “Really glad you’re okay.” Because he honestly was glad that Winn was okay, relieved even. Because if Winn had… No. He wasn’t going to think about that. He didn’t need to think about that. What he really needed to think about was why in the world he was being lifted into the air?! 

“Holy shit!” Noah exclaimed, clearly not expecting Winn’s wolf to heft him up like a small child, arms and legs flailing (only slightly) out from underneath him. “Winn, what the hell,” he grunted out as he was deposited behind the dirty mime dumpster, somehow now hugging a naked man. Typical Winn Woods. Sighing, the younger man ran a hand though the dirty mop of hair now resting on his shoulder, somehow finding it hard to care too much about the awkward predicament Winn was putting him through right now. It was just nice to be hugged after all, and nice to know they were both not going to be mime dinner. “Yeah, I can find you something to wear, just give me a few seconds to breathe,” he murmured in response to Winn’s plea for clothes, not really wanting this moment to end. But all good moments did have to end sooner or later. 

As Winn pulled away from the hug, another one of Noah’s worst nightmares unfolded before his eyes. “Hello employee, and strange man hugging said employee.” The almost monotone timber and dry cadence rippled through the alleyway, sending chills rippling down Noah’s spine. Dr. Choi. Freezing on the spot, Noah gulped involuntarily, not knowing whether to jump on top of Winn (to cover his nakedness, of course) or to scramble away from him. Shit. “Noah, I’m guessing you’d like a spare pair of scrubs for your guest here, and possibly for yourself?” she continued as she raised a small, thin eyebrow eyebrow in the pair’s direction, apparently unphased by him covered in blood hugging a naked man behind a dumpster. “Uh, yes please.” Looking at Winn and then back to Dr. Choi and then back at Winn again, Noah could feel his brain start to literally malfunction. His mouth was devoid of words, incapable of forming even the smallest sentence so he just nodded instead, hoping that would be enough. “I’ll leave them on the counter next to the dog tub, then,” she replied nonchalantly before turning on her heel and walking back inside the clinic.

“Y’know,” Winn said as Noah led his naked ass into the clinic, “you’re handling my furrier half pretty well.” Hell, Noah had touched him — let Winn touch him — while in that form. Winn felt the warmth from Noah’s hand, still recent on his cheeks, and smiled like a goof. And Noah was havin’ far less of a freakout over Winn’s naked body than the other night. (Though, it likely helped that they’d both just nearly died, that everyone was sober, and that there was no morning wood afterwards this time.) The vet seemed chill in a way that Winn could appreciate… though, almost too chill? He sniffed the air, trying to smell anything odd, but all he could for his trouble was the tarry smell of the mimes. Yuck. 

Winn spotted the dog tub, making a beeline. He’d showered with a hose in the middle of nowhere before, this wasn’t all that different. Out of the corner of his eye, Winn saw Noah about to leave the room, to give him some privacy and whined. Wait, no, human form. Words. “Hey, um… Please don’t leave. I mean, don’t have to scrub my back or nothin’, but, um… Just need to make sure you’re safe. It’s a wolf thing. Kinda. And don’t you want to get a little cleaner, too, bro?” Winn winced, turning on the water and bracing himself against the cold, scrubbing at the occasional scrape that the mimes had torn into his skin, trying to make sure that, at least, the dirt was all out of it before it healed up. He reached over the edge of the tub to swipe some pup shampoo, figuring it was… mostly the same, right? “So, uh, I’m bushed,” Winn said, running his hands through his hair to get whatever remaining muck out. “But I need to borrow your phone for a sec. Mine’s back on the pavement somewhere, and there’s some shit goin’ down, and I need to make sure that everythin’ is alright? I’ll explain, promise.” Clean enough, Winn grabbed the huge towel that the good vet had left for them, knowing that he prolly smelled like a wet dog. Hot. Super great. Good thing Noah was used to the smell. 

He shook his hair out, before drying it off like, y’know, a human, and slipped into the scrubs, back turned to the tub. They were about his size, prolly a spare pair of Noah’s, though the lack of underwear didn’t do any favors for him in the, uh, cling department. Alright, first home, take Noah with him, get them both fed. Provide. Wait, no. He shushed the wolf, even as his stomach growled loudly. Miles, Ariana, and… Ulf, whoever-the-fuck-that-was, were on the case, and Winn knew he’d be next-to-useless now, as beat up as he was. He’d check in with Miles, ASAP, and be there for him and his brother. Like a good packma— Winn paused. Like a good friend. Speaking of friends, though… He turned around. 

Noah’s eyes were closed, and Winn took the opportunity to take in the sight before him for just a moment. The other man was built, he’d known that much, but Winn wasn’t prepared for the curves and edges of the other man’s body. He averted his eyes from Noah’s dangly bits, not wantin’ to be a creep, and his eyes landed on a scar on the Noah’s hip. Old, Winn could tell. From the transplant, then. He felt a flare of anger at Noah’s donor. Saving his life, but dooming him to pain, was irresponsible. Noah should’ve gotten a choice — someone should’ve given him the Bite. Winn needed to bring it up, somehow. But, for now, he threw the towel at the other man. “Dinner time,” he said, a wolfish (ha) grin on his face. “My treat. Make up for all of the, uh, nudity. Unless,” Winn added, before he could stop himself, “ya liked it, that is.” And with a wink, Winn turned around to go find his jacket and boots, and lock up his bike for the night, satisfied by the simple joy of being alive.

“Winn, I just killed a Stephen King-inspired Halloween costume version of myself with my own bare hands,” Noah huffed out, grateful that none of the other techs were poking around to watch him lead a very naked man into the backroom. “Your furry little problem is the least of mine right now.” Because yeah, the grand mindfuckery of a situation that was happening — Winn’s wolf form, as well as his dick being out (again) — was really just turning into a normal day in the life of one Noah Kalani. Well almost. The wolf thing did spark a lot of questions, but one crisis at a time. 

Turning on the faucet in the tub, Noah backed away, despite the small wolfy part of his mind screaming at him not to let his friend out of his sight. But apparently this nice human-focused gesture wasn’t needed. “It's a wolf thing.” Winn explained almost nonchalantly, and Noah hadn't even realized those were the words he had been searching for until they were hanging in the air between them. It's a wolf thing. The idea itself wasn't strange, no. Noah had been using that as an excuse for years, but it was strange to have something that usually only existed inside his own mind uttered back to him, and by someone so casually. 

Glancing over at Winn as he scrubbed himself down, Noah allowed himself a lingering glance, something about this more raw encounter different than all the other times he’d seen Winn. And maybe that was because Noah was finally truly seeing. Seeing the possibilities, as well as vulnerabilities of Winn Woods, the other man’s body in various stages of healing, and an angry bite scar maring the skin of his right hip. A small blush that colored Noah’s cheeks. Winn was actually really beautiful in his human form. But he’d also been beautiful as a wolf, that much was true. 

Pushing this new strange dichotomy out of his mind, Noah gingerly stripped off his scrubs, intent on ridding himself of any and all lingering mime. Handing Winn his phone he’d retrieved from the bench before they’d gone inside, Noah jumped into the tub that Winn had so graciously vacated, trying to make his time in the dog shower as quick as possible. Catching the towel that was thrown at him, Noah dried, giving Winn a playful eye roll as he did. “Your nudity is about as welcome to me as those mimes were,” he lied, jumping into his new pair of scrubs and following the other man out of the door with a grin. It had been a rough day but, somehow, it was starting to look better.

[artificialqueens]

Like They Do in Vegas, 4/5 (Vanique) - Mac

AN: Many thanks to Meggie for betaing and being a doll.

BGM Challenge Notes: Here is the playlist I made for this fic.

Summary: Monique explains her past, and Vanessa seeks comfort in her friends.

When Monique came out of her very nice, very expensive hotel bathroom to find her wedding ring in place of the gorgeous girl she had met, she knew she fucked up.

The sinking in her stomach and the sudden ringing in her ears made the coolness of the bedsheets that much harder to bear. She glanced over at the hotel alarm clock.

5:57

If she were home, she’d be about to get up. As it stood, she was cold.

And lonely.

The feeling ate itself through the lining of her stomach and crawled up to her esophagus, essentially choking her on her own feelings. And wasn’t that so like her.

Monét tore into her over the phone.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to Vegas to screw around?”

Monique sighed. She hadn’t meant to. She had come for a conference and to see a few shows and to pretend like her failing marriage was happening to someone else. A close friend or a coworker. Someone she would lend an ear and shoulder to but pray to never be.

“I wasn’t but I met this girl and—”

She was cut off before she could explain that this girl, Vanessa, really was something. And if Monét were in her position, she would have done the same thing.

“Oh, Lord.” Monét exhaled, her tone taking on that all-knowing, all-judging lilt. Monique should have known this would happen.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Monét chuckled. “It’s always you go for these business trips, you meet some girl, you think she’s the one, but then she ends up being a criminal and runs away with your bank info.”

Monique was silent for a moment. “That only happened once,” she conceded.

“That’s one too many times, sis.”

Monique shook her head, adamant. “This one…” she mused, “this one’s different. I know she is.” Monique swore she could sense Monét shaking her head over the phone. “I know you don’t believe me, and I don’t blame you, but this girl—”

“Have you told Darius?” Monét cut her off.

Monique huffed. “Why would I?”

Just the sound of his name made her blood run cold, ice clogging up the vessels that led to her heart.

“Oh you know, just cause you’re still married to him.” Monet spoke. “Ya know, in case you forgot.”

“Kinda easy to forget when the man hasn’t spoken to me in three days,” Monique mumbled.

Monét sighed, longsuffering and loud. “You know I love you.” Monique nodded before realizing that Monét couldn’t see her. “But you can’t keep doing this.”

“And why not?”

Monét huffed. “Well first of all, what ever would your Bible study group say?”

Monique allowed herself a giggle at that. And then one more as Monét chimed in with her own cackle.

She knew, objectively she knew that Monét was looking out for her; was doing what a best friend should, pointing out things, behaviors, patterns, and calling her out on them. It didn’t make it any easier to hear.

“Shut up, god, do you ever stop talking?” Monique said, her words broken up by chuckles that were bubbling out.

“You’re the one that called me!”

“And now I’m hanging up,” Monique teased, taking the phone from her ear and contemplating the big red button that would end her suffering.

“No you’re not.”

No she wasn’t.

Because she really didn’t want to.

Monique held the phone back up to her ear and exhaled shakily, the weight of it all back pressing ceaselessly on her ribcage.

“Tell me about her.”

…

“I knew she was shady from the minute she got here,” Vixen said, steam practically rolling off her swinging limbs as she paced the employee lounge.

Vanessa was sat, well, propped against Asia’s body, the older woman carding sure fingers through the younger girl’s wild hair in a gesture meant to calm her. It seemed to be doing the opposite, Vanessa’s nerves like a livewire under Asia’s careful hands. She felt electric. And not in a good way. She felt like she was moments away from sparking up and burning the whole place down. All fire and brimstone.

“She was rude and mean and she wasn’t even that pretty.”

“Vix,” Vixen looked up at Asia’s words, “maybe lay off the insults while she’s crying,” the older girl said lightly.

Vanessa felt like a livewire, and yet she couldn’t stop crying.

Vixen’s face softened as she took in Vanessa’s disheveled appearance. “Aww, I’m sorry Vanj, I—”

Vanessa shook her head. “It’s fine, V.”

The layout of the room made it easy for Vanessa to notice the minute facial expressions that passed between Asia and Vixen. Plush red seating in the middle of the lounge was flanked on all sides by vanities, which provided very little privacy. They both looked wary, but Asia was calm and collected and nodded once, signaling that it was okay. That Vanessa was going to be okay.

Vixen stopped pacing and came to sit across from the two women. She held out a hand for Vanessa to squeeze reassuringly, and the younger girl offered her a weak smile in return.

“You’re a strong bitch, okay?” Vixen nodded. “You’re gonna get through it. It’s one bad night.”

Vanessa wanted to shake her head. Because no, no, it wasn’t a bad night. In fact, it probably ranked in the top ten nights of her life.

Top five if she were being honest.

The view from the hotel alone put it above any other encounter with a target, and the fact that it was Monique, gorgeous, talented, caring, Monique, with her chocolate eyes and soft hands and huge heart and the way Vanessa had to squint when she smiled.

Asia giggled as she noticed Vanessa spacing out. “There you go again, fallin’ for someone after one night.” She smiled, shaking her head lightly.

Vanessa’s posture stiffened reflexively, defensive. “If you’re gonna be a dick about it—”

Asia rolled her eyes, and pulled Vanessa closer, despite the younger girl’s weak protests. “Hey, kiddo. It’s okay. It just means you got a big heart.”

Vanessa sniffled. “It’s gross.”

“It means you’re a good person,” Asia insisted.

Vanessa felt her throat constricting. “It means I’m weak.”

“It means I’ll kick the next bitch who breaks your heart’s ass,” Vixen chimed in.

Vanessa chuckled in spite of herself. Allowed herself a moment to picture scrawny Vixen throwing punches that nearly toppled her.

All of a sudden the door to the lounge flew open, revealing a chipper-looking Kameron. “Hey, Vanj. I was lookin’ for you!” she practically sang.

Vanessa wiped at her face to displace the tears that refused to quit falling. Kameron noted the tears, noted the red eyes, looked to Asia and Vixen who just shook their heads.

“That woman from the other night is asking after you,” Kameron spoke warily.

Asia stiffened against Vanessa and Vixen stood up, the show of defense making a different feeling well up in Vanessa’s chest. One of pride and belonging.

Before Vixen could actually throw any punches, Vanessa stopped her with a hand.

“It’s okay,” she managed to say without tearing up. “I can handle myself.”

She sniffled once more before standing up and smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress.

“Holler if you need somethin’,” Asia called after her.

Vanessa nodded as the door shut firmly behind her. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out, steadying her heart for its inevitable shattering.

Monique was sat in the same lounge chairs she had been in when they first met. She looked regal as ever, the only inkling to her mind being a furrowed brow and her anxious looks from side to side.

Vanessa sealed herself as she approached the older woman, attempting to use the element of surprise to her advantage.

It backfired, because as soon as Vanessa went to open her mouth, Monique turned to look at her, and suddenly all the wheels in Vanessa’s head decided to stop working for the day

“Vanessa—”

“Y-You have five words.” Vanessa spoke as calmly as she could manage.

“Wha—”

“Four words now,” Vanessa snapped, “to explain why I shouldn’t have yo’ ass kicked to the curb right the fuck now.”

Monique thought for a moment, the cogs in her head turning in front of Vanessa’s eyes. “Let me tell you a story.”

“That was six words.”

“I never said I was good at counting.” Monique shrugged.

Vanessa let out a laugh. It tasted bitter on her tongue. “You never said a lotta things.”

Monique’s eyes darted to the floor. “I was getting there.”

“Were you?” Vanessa tilted her head. “Cause from where I’m sittin’ you seemed like you was never gonna tell me you was married.”

“Vanessa—”

“You are married, right?” Vanessa cut her off. “That wasn’t just some ring.”

Monique nodded. “I am married.”

Vaness scoffed. “What the hell you doin’ with me for? Does she know?”

“He—”

“Oh great, it’s a man,” Vanessa groaned.

Monique ignored her outburst, but her brow creased further at Vanessa’s response. “He doesn’t know, but it isn’t working with him.”

“So what, you thought might as fuckin’ well fool around with some stupid bitch that you could leave in the mornin?”

Monique shook her head firmly. “It’s not like that,” she insisted.

“Then what is it like?”

Monique sighed, worried her forehead between her thumb and pointer finger, and nodded toward the seat beside her. Vanessa took it, only because her heels were killing her.

“We met in college,” Monique started. “He was going into medicine, I was looking at law schools, we… matched each other’s drive.”

Vanessa watched the expressions on Monique’s face change like a screen before her eyes. There was joy. A lost joy. One that felt very far away and that if you thought about too much, looked a lot like regret.

“My parents liked him and he was easy on the eyes,” Monique continued. “He said all the right things.”

The skin on Monique’s hands looked worn as she rubbed them together, in slow practiced movements that told Vanessa she was nervous. The creases beside Monique’s eyes deepened the longer she avoided eye contact.

“We got married for the wrong reasons, I’ll admit it,” Monique conceded.

“I’ll say.” Vanessa rolled her eyes.

“But I was faithful for ten years.” Monique shook her head. Regret. “And then I found he was sleeping with his secretary.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened fractionally.

“Cliche, I know, but it’s the truth.” She looked up to meet Vanessa’s gaze, her breathing slow. “He had kids with her.”

Vanessa bit her cheek to keep from making a face.

“A whole secret family I’d never even heard of.”

The silence stretched out before them like a buffet. Vanessa indulged for a moment, taking the time to process what she had heard, digesting the meaning.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

Monique just smiled sadly. “I started going on business trips, seeing other people.” Monique nodded to herself. “Women,” she clarified. “I hadn’t gotten the chance to be myself, my true self, in nearly a decade so I went a bit wild. Clubbing and partying and all kinds of drugs. Put myself into a fog almost.”

Vanessa knew what that was like. Had seen it firsthand through friends and lovers and people that passed through the casinos. Everyone was looking for something more, an escape from their lives. Permission to live according to their own rules.

“I know what that’s like.”

“Yeah.” Monique sighed.  “I hit a real low point in that year or so but with some help, I managed to pull myself out.”

Vanessa nodded.

“And then I met you.” Monique smiled, bright and honest and Vanessa’s chest ached at the brilliance. “You—” she paused. “You’re different, Vanessa.”

“I dunno what you mean.” Vanessa lied.

Monique reached over to take Vanessa’s hand in her own, the feeling of her skin sparking up the livewire at the base of Vanessa’s spine.

“Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

Vanessa did.

She felt it in her bones. In the core of her very soul that sang in Monique’s presence, she felt it.

“I know it’s cheesy and sounds like a dumb pick-up line, but I think we were supposed to meet.” Monique squeezed Vanessa’s hand gently. “I feel like you’re supposed to be in my life.”

Vanessa fought the urge to run.

The intensity in Monique’s expression, the honesty in her eyes. It was too much. It came too sudden and was all-consuming and Vanessa could hardly catch her breath she was so dizzy.

But the things Monique had said, they didn’t change anything. She was married.

“I ain’t a homewrecker.” Vanessa shrugged. “No matter how wrecked the home already is.”

She took her hand back from Monique’s grasp, the skin burning at the loss of contact, feeling suddenly empty without its companion. Vanessa turned away, unable to look at the growing sadness in Monique’s eyes. Unable to accept that she had caused it.

Don’t turn around.

Don’t turn around.

Don’t turn around.

Her mind repeated like a mantra as she took the first few brave steps back the way she had come.

“Vanessa!” Monique called out.

She turned around.

“At least give me a chance to make it up to you,” she pleaded. “And if you still hate me after then I’ll never bother you again.” Monique’s eyes were open, honest. She extended a hand. “I promise.”

[thedyingmoon]

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

~ A V X Reader set in an Alternate Universe wherein ugly feet are a big deal (?!) 🤔

~ "Too Much Fluff Can Kill You" Volume 2. 😂

~ Tagging my friends, @heaven-on-a-landslide , @krazy06 , @diabeticsugarush , @ehrzeth , @ceruleanworld , @lessy86 , @simmy-ships , @boundbysoul , and @gxthghoulfriend . 🖤

~ Once again helped by my special anonymous adviser who stayed up late with me! And it's all worth it! I hope you like this. ❤

~ Just an important piece of instruction: Please watch the video below before proceeding to the next paragraph. 🖤

~ LET'S DO THIS! 🖤

***

XIV

***

Dante stood in the lobby as he read the latest issue of his favorite magazine.

Already in his best formal attire, the man unceremoniously waited for you. The gig this time required the two of you to infiltrate a party to rat a certain Demon out, and at the mere thought of you in a dress had him intrigued.

Of course, he found you quite fetching. But, the clothes you wore on a daily basis? With your fondness for loose, oversized, and unflattering pieces of clothing, he honestly thought that you got nothing compared to either Trish or Lady, who were two of the most beautiful, if not lethal, women he had ever seen.

Yes, he thought that all the beauty you got were wasted on your conservative tastes,...

"Are we gonna go, or what?" Dante, who failed to notice you as you came down from your room, heard you loud and clear and turned.

"Hey, what took you - ?"

The man stopped dead in his tracks, for there, right before his very eyes, was,...

You raised an eyebrow and placed your hands on your hips. "Are you gonna stare at me the whole evening? We still have a job to do."

"The lady is right." Morrison, who just entered the building, said. And when he saw you, his eyes widened in complete awe. "And surprise of all mother of surprises. You look like the most gorgeous star in the galaxy, my dear."

"Thank you, Mr. Morrison." You said, taking the Broker's hand and letting him lead you outside towards his car.

"Your partner seems to be tongue tied."

"Yeah, he's busy with that magazine of his."

You carefully entered the vehicle as Morrison opened the door for you. A few moments later, Dante followed.

The ride towards your destination was a really quiet one. You would occasionally look at the front at Morrison as he drove but, most of the time, your eyes were just glued to the window beside you. Despite that, you could not shake the feeling of heaviness in your body. It's as if you have been the subject of someone's intense stares for far too long.

Still, you smiled, not letting yourself be tempted to indulge your silent companion.

Your resistance persisted until you two reached the place.

And Dante could not hold it in any longer.

"Hey," he began, isolating you from the other guests by leading you to an empty hallway. "You've been keeping things from me."

"Wha - ?" You started to argue but, then, realized he was right. "Well, yes."

"What else can you do?" Dante demanded, your overwhelming scent of a very addictive vintage wine assaulting his nostrils and driving his patience to the limit. "Witchcraft? Sorcery? Voodoo?"

You only chuckled at his question. "They're the same thing."

The man grabbed your shoulders and made you look up at him, his light - colored eyes more intense than ever before. "Tell. Me."

Unfazed, you only smiled up at him, grabbed his huge hands, and removed them gingerly off you. You then took one of his hands and led him back towards the living area where the party was taking place.

"What are you doing?"

"See that lady?" You whispered to him in a lover - like fashion so as not to make yourself obvious that you're plotting something dangerous. "That's your target."

"How did you even - ?!"

"Sshh! Don't ask. Okay?"

Dante looked at the said female, who happened to be the host of the party.

"So, in two minutes, she will come our way, introduce herself to you, and start flirting with you. You will flirt with her for, like, five minutes."

The man looked at you suspiciously. "Why did I suddenly feel nervous about this?"

"Oh, you'll be fine. Anyway, her lover will come out of hiding. You will kill him."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who said anything about killing an innocent man?!"

"And," you went on, ignoring Dante's complaint. "... you will use the Rebellion and drive it through his skull, then she will attack you. You will use the Ebony and Ivory against her. And, guess what, all the guests in here? They're all Demons. You will finish them in, like, ten minutes, tops. Then, you will join me in the balcony and wipe Demon blood off your face."

"And why am I supposed to believe you?"

"Because your two minutes is up and she's coming towards us."

And surely enough, with hips swaying seductively and eyelids fluttering like butterfly wings, the gracefully tall and slender host of the party was coming towards the legendary Devil Hunter. Dante looked back at you and realized you weren't there any more.

Approximately fifteen minutes later, the man, who was covered in Demon guts and chandelier glitter, came out to join you on the balcony. He wiped the Demon blood off his face and leaned against the railing beside you.

"You didn't even help me." Dante told you wih a huge sigh. "And we're supposed to be partners."

"Convinced?"

"Whatever."

"Hey, at least you got to flirt with her, right?" You cheerfully answered.

Dante looked at you with every intention of giving you a piece of his mind but, you were already walking away from him.

"Hey!"

You turned back, winked at him, and held up a finger to your lips.

"Sshh,..."

***

You and V hustled towards the empty building, sheltering yourselves due to the very sudden and heavy rainfall.

Once inside, V heard you grunt in dismay and as he turned to look at you, he saw you as you put your black violin case down on the cold floor and strip off your wet parka, revealing your simple white dress underneath.

Now, V may have no idea, whatsoever, what you'll need the violin for during the Demon hunt, but he was definitely flabbergasted as to your taste in clothing. It's as if you were not going on a Demon hunt, at all.

You felt a pair of eyes boring down on you as you picked up your violin case, and when you looked up, you ultimately saw him staring at you.

Then, there was that feeling again - of your cheeks burning, of your heartbeat going wild, of your knees getting weak and wobbly.

It's as if the man's mere gaze put your mind in a trance, and your senses into a total discord.

You shyly looked away, trying to escape his longing look, until you finally noticed where you really were.

"Hey, this is a dance studio!" You exclaimed breathlessly as you ran towards one of the doors that led to a huge rehearsal room. You entered it and took in the achingly familiar atmosphere of the place, from its floor, the huge glass windows, to the mirrored walls.

The exact moment when V entered the room after you, Griffon materialized and flew towards you.

"Where did ya just take us to?" The bird irritatingly questioned. "It's too damn creepy in here!"

"Why? You afraid of mirrors?"

The bird squawked and flew towards one of the abandoned chairs, perching and settling himself comfortably.

You ignored the Demon and went towards the window, seeing the angry outpour outside and the eventual streak of lightning from the sky, followed by the loud boom of the thunder.

"It seems that we have become stranded here for a while." You heard V's low voice as you sensed him walking closer towards you.

You simply nodded, still unable to look the man in the eye. "I hope it stops soon."

"I wish for the opposite."

The very noticeable purr in the man's voice made your heart do flips. You turned around, and as another streak of lightning painted the sky, you saw the unmistakable mischief in those eyes and grin of his.

Suddenly feeling both nervous and giddy, you hastily walked towards one of the chairs near Griffon, sat, and removed your boots.

"Okay, these are getting heavy as hell!" You said, unintentionally making your voice loud due to your nerves. "I'm taking these off!"

"Ew!" Griffon exclaimed as soon as your feet came into view. "Did ya step on a fuckin' corpse or are those yer actual feet, eh sweet pea?!"

You narrowed your eyes at the demonic bird, who started laughing at your pitiful, scarred little feet.

"Hahaha! Ah, haha, eh, well, no offense, sweet pea. Just sayin' the truth."

"Beauty cannot be comprehended by small minds, my Demonic friend." V, who, of course, followed you, fortunately came to your rescue.

You gave Griffon a triumphantly evil grin as you placed your wet boots under the table. "I'm a dancer. It would make perfect sense for me to have ugly feet." You looked up at V and spoke with him instead of the bird who got grumpy. "I got these scars from years of dedicated dancing."

"Hmm,..." V mused as he sat on a chair beside you. "Those scars,... symbolize the true enjoyment and will that you felt doing that special something you adore." He uttered, then leaned closer towards you. With a soft whisper, he said, "Those feet, my Lady,... I would kiss,... over,... and over again,... if I could,... "

Thump!

"Shoes! Shoes! The floor is cold! I need shoes!" You literally yelled, feeling your traitorous heart triple in heartbeat. With hot cheeks and trembling limbs, you hastily stood up and roamed aimlessly all over the room in search of those shoes you mentioned. As lame as you might have looked then, you knew what's truly going on between you and the poet, you just could not handle your own chaotic feelings. And now, you must have looked like a total mess right before him.

"Yeah, no shit, Shirley!" Griffon sarcastically whispered at V. "Ain't that right, V? I mean, if ya like her, just tell her already! Dangit! Fuckin' stop beatin' 'round the fuckin' bushes! Look at her, ya broke the thing!"

Surely enough, V saw you wandering around the room, muttering something uncomprehensible under your breath.

Taking pity on you and feeling guilty at himself for making you uncomfortable, he stood up and walked to where you were.

You felt the man as he neared you and instinctively halted your silly, panic mumblings. You cleared your throat, bravely faced him, and saw the worried look in those deep green eyes of his.

"Well, I do not exactly enjoy it. Dancing, I mean." You told the man, making yourself as calm as you could. "It was more like a,... survival kind of thing."

"Survival, you say?" V answered, instantly feeling intrigued. How would one consider dancing as survival? But, of course, he had no idea what you've been through as a child. "Can you, please, explain?"

You slightly got nervous, feeling as if you revealed more than what was necessary. You were only talking about your ugly feet, damnit! No need to drag the man further into your own, dark past.

Once again, you looked around for something, anything, that could save you from your blunder. And there, right on the corner, you saw, as the lightning lit up the dark sky, a pair of forgotten ballet shoes. You looked at the thing with much intent, then back at your male companion.

"Shall I just show you how they made us dance, instead?" You offered. Well, since you'd be moving a lot from now on, you might as well have a sort of a warm up.

And what a perfect way to do that than that accursed piece those pale people made you dance for six whole years.

On the other hand, V felt concerned about you. You considered dance as survival, and yet, here you were, offering to open up what must've been a deep wound from the past.

Then, he had an idea.

"If dancing felt like a challenge to you," he said, suddenly offering up a hand. " ... then, would you allow this fool to ease the burden and join you for this dance?"

Thump! Thump!

Went your heartbeat once more. But, this time, escaping and saving your shy self would not do you any good. So, instead, you took a deep breath, nodded, and looked up at him with much resolve. You took his hand and began with the simplest of steps.

Well! The man surely had instruction! He was sensitive enough to know when you'll turn, when you must be lifted, and when you'll change positions. Not to mention his graceful movements! Where the hell did he learn ballet?!

Meanwhile, V only had to thank the endless dance lessons he took when he was only a boy! And not only that, he also had to actually thank his stupid twin for skipping them, for, if not, he would never have received more difficult extra lessons that involved doing a pas des deux ! And who knew it will become useful in the future?!

For a while, it seemed as though nothing could disrupt the little, yet warm environment that engulfed the two of you. Not even the bleak weather. Even the foul - mouthed Demon perched on the chair close by dared not utter any piercing word.

Everything seemed at peace, the steps you made, perfect. The lightning streaked the sky once more, splashing very little light into the cold, studio. You made another pirouette, longing to end the little dance with flourish, until the loud bang of the thunder came booming down, startling you and making you stumble on your feet. V thankfully caught you just in time before you fall.

"(Y/N),..."

"I'm fine, thank you." You reassured the man, at the same time getting back up on your feet with his help. "You know, my body's condition was not how it used to be compared to when I was a bit younger."

The man smiled gently at you as he took your hands once more, pulling you closer. "Age matters not, as long as you enjoy dancing."

You sheepishly smiled back at him. "Now that you mentioned it, yes. I enjoyed this dance."

The man may not have chosen to mention it to you but, he definitely enjoyed the little performance with you. Much more so than you did. For you were there with him, smiling, and forgetting the chaos of this world.

For at least a few minutes, it felt intimate for V.

However, he saw the smile on your face slowly vanish as you let go of his hands. The man looked at you in confusion, then you told him, "There is, was, only one person in the world who could outdance me in the past."

The man's face fell, seeing the sadness that was creeping up on those (E/C) eyes he had come to adore.

With glistening eyes, you simply uttered, "My sister."

"I'm so sorry." V whispered achingly at you. "It must be,... "

"She was," you went on, managing a smile despite the hurt that suddenly made its way onto your chest at the reminder of your lost, beloved sibling. " ... how to put this? She was perfect in every way. She was the most beautiful girl in the world, and everybody adored her. She,... died,... to save me, V."

V looked away from her. He had,... someone,... very special whom he lost a very long time ago. Hearing you tell your own tale regarding the person you lost brought back those hurtful memories of the one he loved above all else,...

... her,...

He took a deep breath and faced you once more, not wanting you to worry about him.

"What matters is that you still have precious people around you, my Lady." He said, his voice hoarse and raw with untold emotions and unshed tears. "You must focus on not losing them, as well."

You smiled at him, aware of the melancholic feeling you had evoked in the already cold and lonely atmosphere. You took both his hands and guided him to sit on the floor.

Confused, V glanced at you as you positioned yourself in the middle of the empty dance floor. Griffon noticed this change and flew towards his master, settling himself right beside him.

"V," you began. "... let me tell you the story of a man who regrets the loss of a loved one and the woman who loves him the most. The love of his life. Whom he could no longer be with."

You took a deep breath and began a slow movement that gradually turned into a series of steps that seemed to tell a story, like what you mentioned.

undefined

Every turn, every gesture, every sweet and graceful hand movement told V some numerous, little words forming into silent sentences that seemed to whisper directly at his heart. The steps to the very raw yet beautiful dance you performed honestly moved him, feeling a different kind of an ache within his own heart. The steps turned more radiant as it came to the heart of the story,...

... of a very graceful woman,...

... and the man,...

... who was foolish enough to let her go.

And when you finished, he was both speechless and mesmerized. You looked at him with concern, confused by his uncharacteristic silence.

That was when you saw it,...

... genuine tears falling down his face.

"Ah!" You stuttered, not knowing what to do upon the realization that you just made V cry. "I'm so sorry! I would never do this again! I - "

You were immediately silenced as V stood and gave you a hug so tight, yet so gentle, that you felt that he did not want to let go of you.

Like he did not want to ever lose you.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

You knew he was still crying, so you took the initiative to wrap your arms around him and pull him closer.

"Hey, it's okay." You gently whispered at him, calming him down with your caress. "I'll never leave you. I promise."

And just when things were getting more and more cozy between the two of you, Griffon, who seemed to get touched by your performance, as well, flew towards you with large, melancholic eyes. How strange for a brazen creature such as him!

"Hey, do ya know any more stories that won't make ya cry?" The bird asked in a sad and weird tone.

"Okay! Let's see,... "

V smiled as he let go of you, wanting to hear what you were about to say. He just could not help but become excited for your story.

"There was a warrior who was protected by three Goddesses." You began. "However, he mysteriously vanished, making the Goddesses scatter all over the world in search of a temporary vessel until he returns. They found her and dwelled within her for a hundred years.

"Then, one day, he returned and two of his Goddesses returned to him. Aside from the last one who got attached to the woman. But, to gain complete power, the man must have all three with him. So, he took the third Goddess from the woman by force."

"What happened?!"

"Ah,... she died."

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SHITTY STORY?!"

You became nervous as cold sweat trickled down your forehead. "I made it up,... "

"WHAT IN THE FUCKIN' - ?!"

"Hush, you Demon,..." V chuckled as he watched the two of you argue,...

But, the fun and peace of mind you had didn't last long,...

For, only after a few hours, Griffon, who was rendered useless by the Diabolical Amalgam, was screaming your name as you made your way towards the frightening creature, unarmed, wounded, vulnerable, and above all, stripped naked.

"SWEET PEA!" Griffon pleaded as he tried once more to attack, only to fail yet again. "YOU WILL FUCKIN' DIE! STOP!"

But you only looked back at him, winked, and held up a slender finger to your bloody lips.

"Sshh,..."

***

🖤🖤🖤

Note: That's Simone Cameresi for you! A very graceful dancer. I imagine her as the Reader in that very sweet and heartfelt moment as she danced for V. So, I hope you followed my instruction and watched her before reading the next paragraph. 🖤

Another Note: The title of the song is Turning Page by Sleeping At Last. 🖤

P.S.: In ballet, a pas de deux is a dance duet in which two dancers, typically a male and a female, perform ballet steps together. The pas de deux is characteristic of classical ballet and can be found in many well - known ballets, including Sleeping Beauty, Swan Lake, and Giselle. Yeah, the more you know. 🖤

🖤🖤🖤

[etlunainmorte]

🖤 I See My Future Before 🖤

***

Dante stood in the lobby as he read the latest issue of his favorite magazine.

Already in his best formal attire, the man unceremoniously waited for you. The gig this time required the two of you to infiltrate a party to rat a certain Demon out, and at the mere thought of you in a dress had him intrigued.

Of course, he found you quite fetching. But, the clothes you wore on a daily basis? With your fondness for loose, oversized, and unflattering pieces of clothing, he honestly thought that you got nothing compared to either Trish or Lady, who were two of the most beautiful, if not lethal, women he had ever seen.

Yes, he thought that all the beauty you got were wasted on your conservative tastes,…

“Are we gonna go, or what?” Dante, who failed to notice you as you came down from your room, heard you loud and clear and turned.

“Hey, what took you - ?”

The man stopped dead in his tracks, for there, right before his very eyes, was,…

You raised an eyebrow and placed your hands on your hips. “Are you gonna stare at me the whole evening? We still have a job to do.”

“The lady is right.” Morrison, who just entered the building, said. And when he saw you, his eyes widened in complete awe. “And surprise of all mother of surprises. You look like the most gorgeous star in the galaxy, my dear.”

“Thank you, Mr. Morrison.” You said, taking the Broker’s hand and letting him lead you outside towards his car.

“Your partner seems to be tongue tied.”

“Yeah, he’s busy with that magazine of his.”

You carefully entered the vehicle as Morrison opened the door for you. A few moments later, Dante followed.

The ride towards your destination was a really quiet one. You would occasionally look at the front at Morrison as he drove but, most of the time, your eyes were just glued to the window beside you. Despite that, you could not shake the feeling of heaviness in your body. It’s as if you have been the subject of someone’s intense stares for far too long.

Still, you smiled, not letting yourself be tempted to indulge your silent companion.

Your resistance persisted until you two reached the place.

And Dante could not hold it in any longer.

“Hey,” he began, isolating you from the other guests by leading you to an empty hallway. “You’ve been keeping things from me.”

“Wha - ?” You started to argue but, then, realized he was right. “Well, yes.”

“What else can you do?” Dante demanded, your overwhelming scent of a very addictive vintage wine assaulting his nostrils and driving his patience to the limit. “Witchcraft? Sorcery? Voodoo?”

You only chuckled at his question. “They’re the same thing.”

The man grabbed your shoulders and made you look up at him, his light - colored eyes more intense than ever before. “Tell. Me.”

Unfazed, you only smiled up at him, grabbed his huge hands, and removed them gingerly off you. You then took one of his hands and led him back towards the living area where the party was taking place.

“What are you doing?”

“See that lady?” You whispered to him in a lover - like fashion so as not to make yourself obvious that you’re plotting something dangerous. “That’s your target.”

“How did you even - ?!”

“Sshh! Don’t ask. Okay?”

Dante looked at the said female, who happened to be the host of the party.

“So, in two minutes, she will come our way, introduce herself to you, and start flirting with you. You will flirt with her for, like, five minutes.”

The man looked at you suspiciously. “Why did I suddenly feel nervous about this?”

“Oh, you’ll be fine. Anyway, her lover will come out of hiding. You will kill him.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who said anything about killing an innocent man?!”

“And,” you went on, ignoring Dante’s complaint. “… you will use the Rebellion and drive it through his skull, then she will attack you. You will use the Ebony and Ivory against her. And, guess what, all the guests in here? They’re all Demons. You will finish them in, like, ten minutes, tops. Then, you will join me in the balcony and wipe Demon blood off your face.”

“And why am I supposed to believe you?”

“Because your two minutes is up and she’s coming towards us.”

And surely enough, with hips swaying seductively and eyelids fluttering like butterfly wings, the gracefully tall and slender host of the party was coming towards the legendary Devil Hunter. Dante looked back at you and realized you weren’t there any more.

Approximately fifteen minutes later, the man, who was covered in Demon guts and chandelier glitter, came out to join you on the balcony. He wiped the Demon blood off his face and leaned against the railing beside you.

“You didn’t even help me.” Dante told you with a huge sigh. “And we’re supposed to be partners.”

“Convinced?”

“Whatever.”

“Hey, at least you got to flirt with her, right?” You cheerfully answered.

Dante looked at you with every intention of giving you a piece of his mind but, you were already walking away from him.

“Hey!”

You turned back, winked at him, and held up a finger to your lips.

“Sshh,…”

***

XIV

***

You and V hustled towards the empty building, sheltering yourselves due to the very sudden and heavy rainfall.

Once inside, V heard you grunt in dismay and as he turned to look at you, he saw you as you put your black violin case down on the cold floor and strip off your wet parka, revealing your simple white dress underneath.

Now, V may have no idea, whatsoever, what you’ll need the violin for during the Demon hunt, but he was definitely flabbergasted as to your taste in clothing. It’s as if you were not going on a Demon hunt, at all.

You felt a pair of eyes boring down on you as you picked up your violin case, and when you looked up, you ultimately saw him staring at you.

Then, there was that feeling again - of your cheeks burning, of your heartbeat going wild, of your knees getting weak and wobbly.

It’s as if the man’s mere gaze put your mind in a trance, and your senses into a total discord.

You shyly looked away, trying to escape his longing look, until you finally noticed where you really were.

“Hey, this is a dance studio!” You exclaimed breathlessly as you ran towards one of the doors that led to a huge rehearsal room. You entered it and took in the achingly familiar atmosphere of the place, from its floor, the huge glass windows, to the mirrored walls.

The exact moment when V entered the room after you, Griffon materialized and flew towards you.

“Where did ya just take us to?” The bird irritatingly questioned. “It’s too damn creepy in here!”

“Why? You afraid of mirrors?”

The bird squawked and flew towards one of the abandoned chairs, perching and settling himself comfortably.

You ignored the Demon and went towards the window, seeing the angry outpour outside and the eventual streak of lightning from the sky, followed by the loud boom of the thunder.

“It seems that we have become stranded here for a while.” You heard V’s low voice as you sensed him walking closer towards you.

You simply nodded, still unable to look the man in the eye. “I hope it stops soon.”

“I wish for the opposite.”

The very noticeable purr in the man’s voice made your heart do flips. You turned around, and as another streak of lightning painted the sky, you saw the unmistakable mischief in those eyes and grin of his.

Suddenly feeling both nervous and giddy, you hastily walked towards one of the chairs near Griffon, sat, and removed your boots.

“Okay, these are getting heavy as hell!” You said, unintentionally making your voice loud due to your nerves. “I’m taking these off!”

“Ew!” Griffon exclaimed as soon as your feet came into view. “Did ya step on a fuckin’ corpse or are those yer actual feet, eh sweet pea?!”

You narrowed your eyes at the demonic bird, who started laughing at your pitiful, scarred little feet.

“Hahaha! Ah, haha, eh, well, no offense, sweet pea. Just sayin’ the truth.”

“Beauty cannot be comprehended by small minds, my Demonic friend.” V, who, of course, followed you, fortunately came to your rescue.

You gave Griffon a triumphantly evil grin as you placed your wet boots under the table. “I’m a dancer. It would make perfect sense for me to have ugly feet.” You looked up at V and spoke with him instead of the bird who got grumpy. “I got these scars from years of dedicated dancing.”

“Hmm,…” V mused as he sat on a chair beside you. “Those scars,… symbolize the true enjoyment and will that you felt doing that special something you adore.” He uttered, then leaned closer towards you. With a soft whisper, he said, “Those feet, my Lady,… I would kiss,… over,… and over again,… if I could,… ”

Thump!

“Shoes! Shoes! The floor is cold! I need shoes!” You literally yelled, feeling your traitorous heart triple in heartbeat. With hot cheeks and trembling limbs, you hastily stood up and roamed aimlessly all over the room in search of those shoes you mentioned. As lame as you might have looked then, you knew what’s truly going on between you and the poet, you just could not handle your own chaotic feelings. And now, you must have looked like a total mess right before him.

“Yeah, no shit, Shirley!” Griffon sarcastically whispered at V. “Ain’t that right, V? I mean, if ya like her, just tell her already! Dangit! Fuckin’ stop beatin’ ‘round the fuckin’ bushes! Look at her, ya broke the thing!”

Surely enough, V saw you wandering around the room, muttering something incomprehensible under your breath.

Taking pity on you and feeling guilty at himself for making you uncomfortable, he stood up and walked to where you were.

You felt the man as he neared you and instinctively halted your silly, panic mumblings. You cleared your throat, bravely faced him, and saw the worried look in those deep green eyes of his.

“Well, I do not exactly enjoy it. Dancing, I mean.” You told the man, making yourself as calm as you could. “It was more like a,… survival kind of thing.”

“Survival, you say?” V answered, instantly feeling intrigued. How would one consider dancing as survival? But, of course, he had no idea what you’ve been through as a child. “Can you, please, explain?”

You slightly got nervous, feeling as if you revealed more than what was necessary. You were only talking about your ugly feet, damnit! No need to drag the man further into your own, dark past.

Once again, you looked around for something, anything, that could save you from your blunder. And there, right on the corner, you saw, as the lightning lit up the dark sky, a pair of forgotten ballet shoes. You looked at the thing with much intent, then back at your male companion.

“Shall I just show you how they made us dance, instead?” You offered. Well, since you’d be moving a lot from now on, you might as well have a sort of a warm up.

And what a perfect way to do that than that accursed piece those pale people made you dance for six whole years.

On the other hand, V felt concerned about you. You considered dance as survival, and yet, here you were, offering to open up what must’ve been a deep wound from the past.

Then, he had an idea.

“If dancing felt like a challenge to you,” he said, suddenly offering up a hand. “ … then, would you allow this fool to ease the burden and join you for this dance?”

Thump! Thump!

Went your heartbeat once more. But, this time, escaping and saving your shy self would not do you any good. So, instead, you took a deep breath, nodded, and looked up at him with much resolve. You took his hand and began with the simplest of steps.

Well! The man surely had instruction! He was sensitive enough to know when you’ll turn, when you must be lifted, and when you’ll change positions. Not to mention his graceful movements! Where the hell did he learn ballet?!

Meanwhile, V only had to thank the endless dance lessons he took when he was only a boy! And not only that, he also had to actually thank his stupid twin for skipping them, for, if not, he would never have received more difficult extra lessons that involved doing a pas des deux ! And who knew it will become useful in the future?!

For a while, it seemed as though nothing could disrupt the little, yet warm environment that engulfed the two of you. Not even the bleak weather. Even the foul - mouthed Demon perched on the chair close by dared not utter any piercing word.

Everything seemed at peace, the steps you made, perfect. The lightning streaked the sky once more, splashing very little light into the cold, studio. You made another pirouette, longing to end the little dance with flourish, until the loud bang of the thunder came booming down, startling you and making you stumble on your feet. V thankfully caught you just in time before you fall.

“(Y/N),…”

“I’m fine, thank you.” You reassured the man, at the same time getting back up on your feet with his help. “You know, my body’s condition was not how it used to be compared to when I was a bit younger.”

The man smiled gently at you as he took your hands once more, pulling you closer. “Age matters not, as long as you enjoy dancing.”

You sheepishly smiled back at him. “Now that you mentioned it, yes. I enjoyed this dance.”

The man may not have chosen to mention it to you but, he definitely enjoyed the little performance with you. Much more so than you did. For you were there with him, smiling, and forgetting the chaos of this world.

For at least a few minutes, it felt intimate for V.

However, he saw the smile on your face slowly vanish as you let go of his hands. The man looked at you in confusion, then you told him, “There is, was, only one person in the world who could out dance me in the past.”

The man’s face fell, seeing the sadness that was creeping up on those (E/C) eyes he had come to adore.

With glistening eyes, you simply uttered, “My sister.”

“I’m so sorry.” V whispered achingly at you. “It must be,… ”

“She was,” you went on, managing a smile despite the hurt that suddenly made its way onto your chest at the reminder of your lost, beloved sibling. “ … how to put this? She was perfect in every way. She was the most beautiful girl in the world, and everybody adored her. She,… died,… to save me, V.”

V looked away from her. He had,… someone,… very special whom he lost a very long time ago. Hearing you tell your own tale regarding the person you lost brought back those hurtful memories of the one he loved above all else,…

… her,…

He took a deep breath and faced you once more, not wanting you to worry about him.

“What matters is that you still have precious people around you, my Lady.” He said, his voice hoarse and raw with untold emotions and unshed tears. “You must focus on not losing them, as well.”

You smiled at him, aware of the melancholic feeling you had evoked in the already cold and lonely atmosphere. You took both his hands and guided him to sit on the floor.

Confused, V glanced at you as you positioned yourself in the middle of the empty dance floor. Griffon noticed this change and flew towards his master, settling himself right beside him.

“V,” you began. “… let me tell you the story of a man who regrets the loss of a loved one and the woman who loves him the most. The love of his life. Whom he could no longer be with.”

You took a deep breath and began a slow movement that gradually turned into a series of steps that seemed to tell a story, like what you mentioned.

Every turn, every gesture, every sweet and graceful hand movement told V some numerous, little words forming into silent sentences that seemed to whisper directly at his heart. The steps to the very raw yet beautiful dance you performed honestly moved him, feeling a different kind of an ache within his own heart. The steps turned more radiant as it came to the heart of the story,…

… of a very graceful woman,…

… and the man,…

… who was foolish enough to let her go.

And when you finished, he was both speechless and mesmerized. You looked at him with concern, confused by his uncharacteristic silence.

That was when you saw it,…

… genuine tears falling down his face.

“Ah!” You stuttered, not knowing what to do upon the realization that you just made V cry. “I’m so sorry! I would never do this again! I - ”

You were immediately silenced as V stood and gave you a hug so tight, yet so gentle, that you felt that he did not want to let go of you.

Like he did not want to ever lose you.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

You knew he was still crying, so you took the initiative to wrap your arms around him and pull him closer.

“Hey, it’s okay.” You gently whispered at him, calming him down with your caress. “I’ll never leave you. I promise.”

And just when things were getting more and more cozy between the two of you, Griffon, who seemed to get touched by your performance, as well, flew towards you with large, melancholic eyes. How strange for a brazen creature such as him!

“Hey, do ya know any more stories that won’t make ya cry?” The bird asked in a sad and weird tone.

“Okay! Let’s see,… ”

V smiled as he let go of you, wanting to hear what you were about to say. He just could not help but become excited for your story.

“There was a warrior who was protected by three Goddesses.” You began. “However, he mysteriously vanished, making the Goddesses scatter all over the world in search of a temporary vessel until he returns. They found her and dwelled within her for a hundred years.

"Then, one day, he returned and two of his Goddesses returned to him. Aside from the last one who got attached to the woman. But, to gain complete power, the man must have all three with him. So, he took the third Goddess from the woman by force.”

“What happened?!”

“Ah,… she died.”

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SHITTY STORY?!”

You became nervous as cold sweat trickled down your forehead. “I made it up,… ”

“WHAT IN THE FUCKIN’ - ?!”

“Hush, you Demon,…” V chuckled as he watched the two of you argue,…

But, the fun and peace of mind you had didn’t last long,…

For, only after a few hours, Griffon, who was rendered useless by the Diabolical Amalgam, was screaming your name as you made your way towards the frightening creature, unarmed, wounded, vulnerable, and above all, stripped naked.

“SWEET PEA!” Griffon pleaded as he tried once more to attack, only to fail yet again. “YOU WILL FUCKIN’ DIE! STOP!”

But you only looked back at him, winked, and held up a slender finger to your bloody lips.

“Sshh,…”

***

🖤🖤🖤

***

[loserholland]

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝

𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲

Pairing ➺ Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning ➺ Angsty-ish

Word Count ➺  1,724

Summary ➺  Reader spends most her time watching Charlie and later confronts Tommy to spend more time with his son.

A/N ➺ Based off my dream from last night teehee. Also part two?

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @hollandfieldblurbs , @beerbottlesandchainsaws

@softcillian thought you’d like to be tagged in this <3

☞  Masterlist  ☜

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was a close family friend of the Shelby’s, she had basically grown up as one. After her parent’s passed away, Polly had taken her in and raised her as if she was her own. (Y/N) had a special place in the Shelby family’s heart, well at least most of them.

Thomas Shelby, he was the only person (Y/N) was never close to nor got along with. They’ve always bickered with one another, it all started when Tommy had commented that (Y/N) new haircut looked like a mushroom. I guess you could say, they’re just kids they don’t mean it but boy (Y/N) felt so heartbroken and ever since that moment they’ve never gotten along.

I don’t think that would change anytime soon.

(Y/N) had been with them through thick and thin, she was there for the highs and lows. Hell she was even included in family meeting’s, Finn was never happy about that but he had gotten use to it. She was there when Polly’s son Michael had come back after Tommy went searching for him, she was there when John had passed as her close friend Esme left with the kids.

She was also there at the time Tommy’s life took a turn, she was there that night that Grace’s life was taken ever too soon. (Y/N) walked along side Ada, talking about the decorations, and well potential bachelors at the event. Just as they announced dinner was ready to be serve, everyone made their way into the room chattering amongst one another. 

Then it all happened at once, shots were fired and everyone ducked, John and Arthur quick to their feet stomping and kicking at the shooter who posed as a waiter. (Y/N) watched as Tommy cried for help cradling his wife in his arms, though it was too late. Leaving her two year old son Charlie and Tommy, may she rest in peace.

After Grace’s death Tommy spent most of his days awake, spending sometime with Charlie but would leave the house till dawn. He had distanced himself from the family, (Y/N) had taken Charlie into her care. Visiting him as much as possible, she’d take him into the city, go to the park and buy him many goodies.

Tommy watched as (Y/N) strapped his son into his car seat, watched them drive away. He spent most of his days attending to business and doing what Tommy Shelby did best, drink his sorrows away. 

(Y/N) placed Charlie into the small swing seat, pushing him back and forth cooing and making weird faces every now and then as a loud giggle erupted from his chest. “Oh Charlie, I know your father hasn’t been around lately.. he loves you bub... he’s just healing right now.”  though she knew there was never a special place in Tommy’s heart for her, she had a special place for him.

I know as cliché as it sounds (Y/N) had always had feelings for Tommy. It was during her twenty-first birthday she realized he was the man she’d love for the rest of her life. She had come to the fact that he could never love her as much as he loved Grace, she had come to the fact that he could never love her but hate her. She had come to the fact that she’d have to do the same, put up this wall and mask to hide the true feelings she felt. 

“He looks like you.” a voice said as (Y/N) glanced at the stranger who spoke, an lady who seemed to be in her late 50′s pushing her grandson on the swing next to them. (Y/N) smiled sweetly, she had been use to this comment whenever she had brought Charlie out to the mall or park, and the look on their face when she’d say oh he’s not mine, or he’s my nephew. 

“Oh! He’s my nephew actually.” (Y/N) said sweetly tickling Charlie each time he swung forward, the lady smiled nodding as she continued to push her grandson. “It’s good to bring these kiddos out, keep them away from the electronics.” (Y/N) nodded in agreement, it was also good to actually spend time with someone who’s not their child. 

In the back of her mind, she had wanted to tell Tommy to spend more time with Charlie, but she knew it wasn’t the time nor her place so she kept it to herself. She loved Charlie with all her heart but, he needed to spend more time with someone who he shared blood with; someone he shares DNA with. 

“How old is he?” the lady questioned as Charlie raised his hands up and bursted into laughter, “He’s two, how old is your grandson?” (Y/N) conversated, usually she was never one to start up a conversation with mother’s at the park typically anyone honestly. “Six.” the little boy answered hoping off the swing to the jungle gym, the lady smiled walking after her grandson “Hope you two have a wonderful rest of your day!” (Y/N) smiled wishing her the same. 

She took Charlie into her arms walking back to the car to grab his lunch, they sat under a tree atop a blue fluffy blanket. (Y/N) laid his toys out in front of him and prepared his lunch, soft and easy to chew foods like; banana, a little smoothie and some steamed veggies. 

“Do you miss your daddy bub?” (Y/N) watched as he smooshed his veggies lifting his hand up and squealing before placing it into the mixed greens into his mouth. “Ma-ma.” he cooed causing (Y/N) to sigh, there were nights when he’d call for Grace. There were night’s when he’d call for his father who was god knows where. 

“I know you miss her.. your daddy misses her too. She’s watching over us now.” (Y/N) pressed a kiss to his forehead and placed him in her lap watching as he reached forward for his food, making a little mess on the blanket. 

They’d usually be out till dusk, she’d drop Charlie back home and feed him dinner, bathe him and tuck him into bed. Mary would offer to take him after but (Y/N) would refuse saying she didn’t mind and that Mary could go rest. When it was time for bed, she’d sit in the rocking chair just in case he woke up calling for his mom or dad. 

After a few hours, she’d leave the room and head into Tommy’s study to see if he was in. Yet she found an empty room, papers spread out on the desk along with a few cigarettes in the ash tray. The bottles of whiskey almost empty, she moved around his office tidying up the place. She had wanted to tell Tommy if he needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to she was there and would always be there for him no matter how they felt for one another.

The front door was slammed shut causing (Y/N) to move away from the desk and seat on the chair behind her, crossing her right leg over her left and turned her chair in the direction of the entrance to his study. The door flew open, Tommy stumbled into the room his broken blue eyes met (Y/N) a small groan tumbled pass his pale lips. 

“Oh your still here.” Tommy snickered moving around the room pouring himself whatever whiskey was left in the glass, finally seating behind his desk. He placed a cigarette between his lips, lighting the end the sound of crackling paper echoed through the room.

(Y/N) didn’t want to say it, but her heart was heavy for Charlie. “You need to spend more time with Charlie.” she mumbled under her breath, keeping her eyes focused on her lap finding the conversation to be non-interesting. Tommy leaned forward glaring at the woman in front of him not wanting to believe the words that had left her mouth were real.

“Wait, what did you say?” a hint of annoyance was laced between his words, (Y/N) stayed silent for a little bit scolding herself for evening mumbling the goddamn words. He slammed his fist into the table causing (Y/N) to jump slightly in her seat but she kept her eyes on her lap picking at her distressed jeans. 

“(Y/N), what did you say?” Tommy demanded waiting for (Y/N) to answer his question, she sat there for a moment trying to regain herself but exhaling.

“I said.. you need to spend more time with Charlie.” silence drew in before Tommy scoffed in anger shaking his head lightly bringing the cigarette between his lips, “Fuck off (Y/N).” the comment caused her head to snap towards Tommy. Anger radiated through her body, she knew better to keep the comment to herself but didn’t want Tommy to continue being this way.

“No, I will not fuck off Thomas! You can’t scare me away like you do to your brothers! Charlie wakes up in the middle of the night crying for either you or Grace! I stay with him till you return!” (Y/N) shouted tears brimmed her eyes staring at the most feared man of Birmingham, he sat there expressing no emotions instead he wore a blank face. 

“You don’t have to fuckin’ stay! Mary is there for that reason! She is here to tend to Charlie’s fuckin’ needs! You’re not his mother (Y/N)!” Tommy screamed watching (Y/N) expression drop, she knew he wasn’t his mother of course she knew that. But it’s the fact that he wasn’t even acting like a father, and he brings up how she’s not his mother?

“I fucking hate you Thomas.” 

That was a lie, she didn’t hate him fucking hell she loved him more than she could ever love herself. Though he was rude to her on many occasions, she loved him so much it was impossible to hate him. It was exactly what Kat Stratford had, ‘But mostly, I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close. Not even a little bit. Not even at all.’

(Y/N) got up from her seat the legs of the scrapped against the wood tiled floor, she stormed off to the door stopping for a second before turning back to look at Tommy. 

“I know I’m not his mother Thomas, but you’re sure as hell aren’t acting like his father either.” 

[littlebitoffanfic]

Reasons

Fandom: The Hills Have Eyes Characters: Lizard, Jupiter, Ruby, others mentioned Relationship: Lizard/reader Request: Please make a fanfic about lizard/reader! She's new in town and the clan likes her or sth like that :D -You're a great writer! ;) AN: I took a little liberty with the plot, I hope this is okay. Slight smut You walked along the long dusty road and placed down your spikes. You put them on a slight curve in the road, so you could set off the spikes where they couldn’t really see it. Then you scouted to try find a good set up point. Somewhere where you could see the road through your scope but not close enough where someone could accidently see you from the road. You were lucky that the hills around the area where easily scalable and had plenty of hiding places. next, you just had to sit and wait. you were an assassin by trade, sought out as one of the best of the best. It was well paid job and let you travel for free so you didn’t mind too much. Today, you had the job of killing two business men on their way back from a meeting. If the meeting had gone well, you wouldn’t have to do anything, but it didn’t. they spat in your employer’s face and left. So you were called in. You set your sniping gun on a rock, allowing you to lie on your front and look through the scope. You lined your crosshairs up with a small bush. Shooting, you were able to see when the bullet hit the bush by the moment, so you knew how much time you had to account for. There was no wind in this area so you didn’t have too many factors to work out. you didn’t have to wait long. You saw a car driving along the road. Using the scope, you saw it was the two men and a driver. He would have to go too, but that meant a little more money for you. The more bodies, the higher the price. But something else caught your eyes from the side of the road. You saw a man, sneaking up to the side of the road and hiding behind a bush. He threw out some spikes that popped up just as the car drove over them, causing the car to skid and crash into a rock. But you didn’t care about the car, you cared about who the hell that was. He pulled the spikes back and retreated back till you couldn’t see him anymore. ‘shit’, you thought. Another factor. Another variable to take into account. Looking back to the car, you saw the three targets tumble out, the driver taking a verbal beating from one of the men. you wanted to pull the trigger, your finger itched. In fact, if you aimed right, you could take out the one yelling at the driver and the driver in one shot, then it would just be the second. but something intrigued you. What was someone doing this far out of civilisation? Who were they? Were there more? You decided to sit tight, and see how this plays out, but you became a lot more concerned about your surroundings. If you hadn’t had been looking through your scope, you might not have seen him. His tattered clothes seemed to blend into the surrounding areas. Not only that but he had retreated. Why? glancing behind you, you felt like something was wrong. No, not wrong. Just, unknown. And you wanted to find out. you decided if something went wrong, you wanted to be as close to your motor bike as possible, so you carefully climbed down, keeping an eye on the targets and looking for any more out of place people. You took refuge on a rock about 10 foot away from your bike, which was parked in a dead end cavern in the hills. it starting to get dark and you didn’t like it. Sure, your senses were finely tuned, but you didn’t know what to expect now. Looking over your shoulder every minute, you watched the men closely. Until you noticed something on the other side of road move. A small girl padded out from behind a rock. You could see her features as you were less than 15 foot from her. She had long dark brown hair and wore a tattered summer dress with a worn cardigan. One of her eyes dropped slightly. she peaked out, looking at the men who were arguing about what to do before night fell. Another joined her. This one was the man you had seen earlier. He had greying hair that was messy, and a cleft lip. He hissed something to the girl, who rolled her eyes at him, but seemed to follow what he said as she crept closer and closer. ‘don’t do that, you silly child’ you hissed to yourself. These business men were ruthless, and you knew they each had guns on them. If she was spotted, she would be dead meat. ‘why do you care?’ you scolded yourself, biting down hard on your lip. She snuck up to the car and started to rummage through the open window in some bags. Sure enough, they noticed her. One of the business men shouted ‘hey’ as he made his way to the car, grabbing her by the hair and throwing her to the floor. You heard a growl from your side and whipped around seeing someone on the top of the rock beside you, but they hadn’t noticed you. They were staring at the girl. This new one was crouched down, wearing a bowler hat and a white one suit thing with a jacket over the top. He didn’t have a nose. Shit, what were you getting yourself into. you looked back to the girl and saw the two business men had pulled out guns and were aiming for her. you saw one of the men unclip the safety. Shit. looking through your scope, you lined up the crosshairs with the guys gun. If you shot him, he might accidently pull the trigger and kill her anyway. No, you had to get rid of the gun first. holding your breath, you pulled the trigger. The shot flew through the air and you knew it would hit the mark. Scrambling to your feet, you jumped away from the new man and jumped on your motorbike, revving it to life and getting out of the cavern. You sped up to the group who were in shook. Skidding, you put yourself between the girl and the men, pulling your gun up so you were aiming before they knew what was happening. “You alright, sweetie?” you called over your shoulder and glancing to her. She nodded, panting from fear as she backed away. “go.” Thankfully, she didn’t argue with you and ran into the hills. The man whos hand you shot was huddled on the ground, grasping at his now manged hand, his gun dropped to the floor. The second business man had got such a fright that he had dropped his own gun too. The driver stood behind them, watching in complete shock. When he saw you looking at him, he raised his hands above his head. You almost felt bad since you had to kill him, but then again, he knew what these men did. “you-you fuckin’-” The one with the manged hand started to speak but the pain was too much. “who sent you?” the second asked, his hands by his sides. “I can pay you double.” “deals already been done.” You shrug. “Nothing personal.” that was when you noticed something moving behind them. Another figure. No, two. one was the man with the spikes, the other you didn’t know. Fuck, how many where there?! You glanced behind you, making sure there was still no one there. “You pierced our tires.” He accused, making you smirk. “No, actually, my spikes are further up the road.” You smiled, playing innocent. “So, you some kind of assassin?” He cocked his head to the side with a smirk. “Not ‘some kind’. I am an assassin.” You clarify, hating how they didn’t take you seriously since you were a woman. But it was common and let you get close to subject. You were carful not to let the men know something was happening behind them. Three, there were three there now. so that made at least 5 people out here so far. The girl, the spikes, the hat, and the two you hadn’t seen properly. “Give ‘em to us.” A voice from behind called, making the men jump as well as you. One of the men you didn’t recognised stepped into the light. He looked relatively normal compared to the rest. He wore a long, dark coat and had long hair. He looked a good chunk older than the others. The two other men followed, confused by their companion. the third was tall, with a growth over his left eyes and a bald head. He seemed to be missing his front teeth. “Excuse me?” you called, completely confused now. What the fuck was going on? “You want to kill ‘em, that fine. But let us keep the bodies.” He stepped forward once again and walking past the group of men to stand nearer you. “I’ll need proof they’re dead.” You say, not understand why they would want the bodies. “what kind?” He asked and you shrugged. “Pictures. My client hasn’t asked for anything physical.” You tell him. “Physical?” The one with the spikes had crept closer while you were speaking. In the light, you saw his bright blue eyes that sparkled with intelligence. “Sometimes, they ask for something. So, like a heart. Or the nose. Finger nails. Teeth.” You rattle off the list like you were speaking about everyday items you could get in the shops. Your answer made the one with the spikes smirk, seeming to either impress or amuse him. However, during the discussion, the one with the mangled hand seemed to get a sudden burst of adrenaline and angry. He grabbed for his gun, using his left hand to hold it up and aim for the new men. “Fuck you!” He screamed but you were quicker. you fired and shot him through the side for the head, just beside the ears. He slumped to the ground, blood pooling around him. but this caused a chain reaction. the driver took off, running back down the road. He could be taken out fine, but the second business man moved for his gun. But as he leaned down for the weapon, you didn’t have to do anything. The man with the spiked raised his foot and brought it down on the man head, smashing it into the ground with a sickening thump. The tall one started to let out a hoot, pointing after the driver. “Its fine.” You reassure the man who, judging by his childlike dementor and non-use of words might have a mental disorder. Raising your scope to your eyes, you line up the cross hairs once again, this time with the back of the mans head. It bobbed up and down as he ran but that wasn’t a problem. Holding your breath, you pulled the trigger. And the man fell to the ground like a ragdoll. Dead. the situation in front of you wasn’t over. You moved forward and kicked the gun back and away from the man who was struggling. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a switch blade, trying to slash at the man with the spikes leg. He cried out and you growled. Moving forward, you grab the business man by his greasy hair, pulling back his head and shoved the barrel of your gun in his mouth, pulling the trigger. and the last kill was one as he body slumped to the ground. you were quick to your feet, backing away from the new people and glancing behind you. Still no one. “I didn’t know anyone lived out this far. How many of you are there? Ive counted 5 so far.” You say, while the leader raised his eyebrow at you with a smirk. “5?” he questions and you nod. “You three, the girl and the guy with the hat.” You nod in the direction he had seen him last. a chuckle left the leaders lips. “I am Jupiter, and this here is my family. Pluto –“ He pointed to the tall one. “lizard-“ to the one with the spikes “and the girl was Ruby and Goggle wears the hat.” “Im [y/n].” you say, since you were exchanging names. “But theres more of you.” “Yes, a few others. They don’t like traveling outside our village.” Jupiter said with a nod. Then something dawned on you regarding his earlier statement. “Id imagine this far out, food would be scarce. You have to live off whatever you could.” You say, your words not going over the top of any of their head. “No. you’re right. Its hard out here. But we are not entirely different, as I heard. You make as much a living off death as we do.” Jupiter smiles. All you could do is nod, lowering your gun slightly. Your mind was racing. your service was sought after, and you always needed different places to hid bodies. Well, this could be just perfect. Somewhere to dump the bodies where they wouldn’t be found, where they would have use. Plus helping a ‘family’ who seemed like they had the world stacked against them. “I think you might be able to help me then.” You say, leaning against your bike slightly. “I have a big target next month. 13 people to be precise. Well, ive been worried about where to kill them or stash the bodies but, if I could lead them through here and set up somewhere in the hill, you think you could help me out? You could keep them all. And the pays good.” “well, that would certainly help us out.” Jupiter looked to Lizard who gave a single nod. “but how can we trust you?” “How can I trust you?” you fired the question back at him, all too aware you were outnumbered. Jupiter opens his mouth to answer but then smiles and closes it. Reaching into your pocket, you take out your phone. You quickly snapped a shot of the driver and the first man, carful to keep the groups feet out of the photo. You would take a picture of the one who ran when you passed him. “I should find out about whats going to happen by Tuesday. I don’t suppose you have a phone?” You asked, looking up at Jupiter. He shook his head. “Thought not. Well, I’ll come back on Wednesday. You can have your answer by then and I’ll have a plan either way.” Throwing your leg back over your bike, you decide its best to get out there right now while things were well. You race past them to the third body, only stopping to take a quick picture and then racing off, your heart pounding in your chest. -----------------time skip -------------------- It was all arranged. When you went back, Jupiter was there with a walkie talky connecting you to someone new called Big Brain. A deal was worked out and a plan as well. An ambush. They would also get the help of another ‘clan’, Jupiter’s brother Hades. the only issue was there was a delay with the ‘delivery’ and you ended up having to go back 5 or 6 times to update them on the plan. The second time, you actually went to the village, meeting the rest of the family. It would seem that you had been spoken about many times, because Big Mama knew exactly who you were, as did Cyst and big Brain. You also met Ruby properly. She seemed sweet and way too innocent to be wrapped up in all this. You couldn’t work out why they trusted you so quickly. Until Lizard told you. The gas station attendant had been becoming more erratic. It seemed the toll of sending people down this path was getting to him. They needed someone new, or at least with new connections. You said you would see what you could do. You didn’t want to give up everything, but you knew a few older guys who were looking for an easy life that wouldn’t pry too deep into their previous professions. Lizard had certainly taken a liking to you. And you to him. Of all the group, you enjoyed his company the most. Something about him gave you a rush, it reminded you of danger and you couldn’t get enough of it. You couldn’t stop thinking about him. At night, you would toss and turn in your bed, wondering about the mutant. In less than a month, you were completely smitten by him. Some girly, lovey dovey part of you that you thought had died long ago longed for his arms around you. You hadn’t expected yourself to fall so hard for him. Maybe because he wasn’t what you had expected or becuase you hadn’t been looking for it. Either way, you couldn’t deny your attraction. To make things a little worse for you, it was agreed you and Lizard would be stationed together during the attack. At first you didn’t understand this tactic. Liard was obviously one of the most aggressive and stronger ones in the clan so putting him up front to help with the attack seemed better. But then you realised that your position in the hills as a sharp shooter might be threatening to both clans. Jupiter wouldn’t put Ruby up with you in case you did turn on them. Goggle and Pluto might stand a good chance against you but Lizard was probably the best one. You also noticed that they didn’t like you being near when Hades or his clan were around. Apparently, even though you were helping them, Hades might see you as a good breeder and try take you as well. All the issues aside, you didn’t know how well you could concentrate with him around you. But who knew, maybe you had had the same effect on him. Ruby certainly seemed to think so. She’d smile when you were in the same room as Lizard and he stood near you, she smiled when she’d see the two of you speaking. She told you that he always seemed like he was in a better mood when you were coming. You stood outside the gas station, glancing at your watch as you waited for him. The ambush was happening closer to here than the town to prevent Mama or the kids getting involved in any way or a victim getting to them. It was empty, the old ‘owner’ having been taken care of and an old friend of yours traveling out next weekend to take his place. You also set up a camera that was linked to your phone which would send you a notification when it detected movement. This would give the hill people some warning before they fully arrived. Lizard was to meet you here and the two of you had to climb up to the vantage point about a mile in. your bike was to be hidden around the back so it couldn’t be seen. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground. You were about to scream when you head the similar chuckle for Lizard “You scared the life out of me.” You scowled as he set you down, laughing to himself at your reaction. He carried you for a few feet before dropping you and continuing to walk, leaving you to catch up with him. You playfully push his shoulder as you catch up, mumbling an insult which he shrugs off. He led the way, looking at you to make sure you were keeping up. Although you weren’t completely stupid and had plenty of weapons on you, they went unused. Lizard walked and climbed quickly, with you right at his heel and before you long, you were at the vantage point in the hills. Lizard called into the walkie talkie that you two were in position. You walked to the edge, seeing the road beneath. Pulling out your sniper, you set it up on the ledge. Lying on your stomach, you lined up a few shots, making sure you could get enough manoeuvrability to get someone if they started to run. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Lizard sitting against the rock, his eyes on your ass. You couldn’t help but smirk. Perhaps tonight could be fun after all. You looked away before he noticed and glanced at your watch. You still had 2 hours before they were due. You could defiantly have some fun with him before you had to work and who knows, maybe more could come of it. Sitting back on your knees, you stretch a little, pushing your chest forward and arching your back. You turn to Lizard, whos eyes were on you. Moving across to him, you sit in front of the man on your knees. Lizard had his knees bend and his feet on the floor, his arms resting on his knees as he started at you. “You seem preoccupied.” You stated, reaching out a hand and trailing your fingers up the front of his left leg. Lizard let out a shiver, snarling a little under your touch. “Nah.” He growled, his voice sharp like his eyes. His hands dropped from his knees. “Good.” You leaned forward to place a hand either side of his hips to crawl up his body, coming dangerously close to his misshaped lips. Lizard physically tensed under your touch, but his legs dropped so they were flat on the floor. You took the opportunity and straddled his hips, pressing your body against his. A deep growl escaped his throat as he gritted his teeth. “what’s wrong? Don’t want to have some fun?” You said as you placed your hands on his chest and running them up to his neck and head. “said I wouldn’t touch yah.” He growled, his eyes shutting for a moment as he seemed to struggle to keep his self-control. Now you wanted him even more. “What if I’m touching you? That doesn’t count?” You ask, leaning down to his neck, pressing a few feather light kisses to the skin there. A shiver ran through his body as his hands grabbed your thighs, holding you as tightly against him. He never answered your question, but you assumed the answer was a no. you trailed soft kisses up his jaw to his mouth. At first, you were unsure about how you would kiss his misshaped lips, but he answered that question by turning his face to yours and pressing his mouth to your own. A mixture of his lips and the area of gum fused with the top of his lip made you shiver. It was so exhilarating. He seemed to snarl into the kiss, one of his hands leaving your thigh to grab the back of your neck, holding you in place. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, only seeming to edge him on further as the kiss became more and more intense with every passing second. “Liizzzard.” Big Brains voice called over the walkie talkie, making you both jump a little. Lizard grabbed the radio and gave a gruff ‘yeah’. It turned out to be nothing. Big Brain just wanted to check that you were there, and everything was okay before the big hit. While Lizard spoke over the radio, you took the chance to press light kisses down his neck. An action that seemed alien to Lizard, much like the first kiss. but once he was done with the radio, his hands grabbed your waist and he moved quickly, flipping you to the side so you were on your back and he was between your legs. You wasted no time kissing him as he pressed against you. He pulled back to duck his head down your neck. You felt him press his tongue against the base of your neck and then slowly licking up to your jawline. You had to fight every urge in your body to let out a long moan at the feeling. Noise could easily travel in the hills. But it would seem fate was working against you because just as he trailed back to your lips and began to grind against you, your phone went off in the small bag you had bought. You let out a frustrated groan as Lizard sat back on his knees, allowing you to sit up and grab your bag. Pulling your phone up, you saw it was the camera. Opening it up, you could see the van of people had just driven past it. “Shit, their early.” You half groaned as you looked up to Lizard. “Betta warn the other.” He reached over and grabbed the radio, calling over it that they were on their way. You moved to your sniper as an awkward silence fell over the two of you. Lizard came to sit to your right, carefully watching over the others as well as looking out for the van. “Why?” He suddenly asked. “huh?” You didn’t understand his question. You pushed yourself up to sit on your knees. You still had a few moments before they came through. “why me?” He spoke again, refusing to look at you but his features showed confusion. “Well, because Im attracted to you.” You saw no point in lying to him. “That’s fucked up.” He instantly replied, frowning. “Im an assassin. Im kinda past that area already.” You giggle a little, trying to break the tension between you two. And it seemed to work as he fought the smile pulling at the edge of his torn lip. Biting down on your own lip, you wondered if you should continue, and voice told you yes. “Ive always been one of those thrill seekers. And I found that I was drawn to you because you were unlike any man ive ever encountered in my life.” You look at him, seeing he had dropped his gaze down to his feet, that smile no longer on his lips. “You gonna stick around after this is all done?” He finally speaks, nodding to the road. “Hmm, I don’t know. Depends if I have a reason.” You pretend to think before smiling. Lizard looks to you then moves quickly. He places one hand on the side of your neck and the other arm wrapped around your torso, pulling you flush against him once again. Ducking his head, he kisses you again. Like before, the kiss was intense and passionate, but with a hint of desperation and perhaps a form of begging. He groaned against your lips, obviously still riled up from earlier. But so were you. you wrapped your arms around his neck, running one of your hands through his messy hair as you kissed him back with equal want. “Well, that’s certainly a reason.” You gasp as you pull away, both of you panting slightly. “good.” Lizard mumbles, his eyes darting past you to the road. Just as he did, Goggle called over the radio that they were close. -----time skip ------------- The event when off without issue, and both clans went home with enough meat to last them a while. Mama had already offered you a room if you wanted it and Ruby even said you could stay in hers. Jupiter had said you were welcomed in the village any time for as long as you wanted. When the fight was done, everyone dispersed with Jupiter’s clan returning to the village. The men walked ahead as they pulled some of the bodies on planks of wood while you and Ruby walked behind. “You gonna stay?” She asked, excitedly. “Yeah, for a wee while. I’ll still take jobs, but it’ll be nice to have somewhere to go.” You tell her. “Why?” She asks, and you could see the resemblance between her and her sibling. But she seemed genuinely curious. She lived for your tales of excitement and you supposed she couldn’t understand why someone who had the freedom she didn’t would choose to stay here. “I have my reasons.” You smile, your eyes meeting Lizards as he glances back at you.

[thatonecurlygirl]

Queen of Hawkins {Pt. 4}

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Catch up and view the masterlist here 

By the end of the day, everyone was talking about you and Billy. Thanks to Billy’s irresistible lips and Tommy’s loud mouth, rumors of the two of you dating were floating around like dandelion fuzz. At the moment it’s the least of your worries. What you were really worried about was the sudden change in Billy’s attitude.

“Hey Billy, what’s wrong?” You quietly ask as you walk up to his car, ignoring the stares and whispers.

“Nothin’ I’ll see you later.” He says, turning back to his good for nothing friend and lighting up a cigarette.

“You two banging again tonight?” Tommy laughs, nudging Billy. Your face lights up red like the fourth of July and Billy turns toward you, his eyes going wide for just a second before landing on yours.

“Fuck you!” You gasp loudly, shocked that after you practically begged him not to say anything- he did. You quickly turn around on your heels and stomped away to your car, driving off before anyone can say anything else to or about you in your presence.

You didn’t waste any time, you drove home, went straight to your room and tore through your closet in anger. Clothes flew around your room until you were no longer able to see the floor, books and your bedding followed the clothing on the floor and you sat in the middle of the mess, fuming. You sit there for just a few minutes before rolling your eyes and cleaning up - your parents would kill you if they saw your room like this.

“(Y/n)! The phone is for you!” Your mom yells from the other room and you sigh not realizing it had rung but already knowing who it is.

“What do you want Billy?” You snap into the landline you picked up from your nightstand.

“You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.” He growls, impatiently through the phone.

“Oh sorry, when I said ‘fuck you’ I meant ‘leave me the hell alone.’ My bad, I should have clarified that earlier.” You roll your eyes, taking a seat on your named mattress.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me and get over here so we can talk!” He yells into the phone and your eyes fly wide.

“How did you kn-”

“I just know, now get over here.” He says before hanging up without a ‘goodbye’ or ‘see ya later’.

Despite not really wanting to see or talk to Billy, you grab your backpack and walk to Billy’s house and you’re greeted by him standing on the porch a lit cigarette between his lips and a scowl on his face. When you make it to him, he flicks the cigarette away and walks inside. The house is unusually quiet which means it’s empty - except for you and him.

“Everyone knows we fucked,” Billy says like it’s no big deal. “But I didn’t tell anyone.” He crosses his arms and shakes his head.

“Then who did?” You raise your voice and throw your hands in the air.

“You. Tommy was just fuckin’ around when he asked. You gave him the answer- none of this is my fault.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t see what the big deal is anyway.”

“The big deal is my reputation. I’m just going to be seen as another notch in your belt - no one is going to respect me.” You tell him, honestly upset.

“Are you serious? You think people won’t respect you because you had sex with me?” He scoffs and shakes his head. “You are so stuck up.” He points a finger in your face.

“I am not stuck up! I’m just being realistic!” You smack his finger out of your face, which just makes him take a step closer. His red and angry face just mere inches from yours.

“You’re right, you’re just stupid!”

“Go to Hell!” You try to push him away but fail terribly, so you slip around him and walk back toward the front door.

As you open the door Billy grabs onto your wrist and pushes the door closed again. You turn around to give him a piece of your mind but before anything could come out of your mouth, he presses his lips firmly against yours. His hands have a tight grip on your hips, the sound of a car door outside causing the two of you to pull apart.

“I think you are fucking amazing, you shouldn’t give a damn what they think.” He says softly, his thumb lightly brushing across your bottom lip.

Billy Hargrove can piss you off to no end but there are times where his hard exterior cracks just a little and you see another side of Billy - this side. Seeing this side of Billy is almost worth all the times Billy is pissy and argumentative - almost- you could deal without the fights and his explosive anger but he’s never like that with you. To be honest, you are the only one who has seen this side of Billy in a long time but he won’t admit to any other side of him, there’s just badass Billy Hargrove.

“That’s easy for you to say.” You groan and walk past him and back toward his room, him following closely behind.

“What do you mean?” He asks, leaning against his door frame as he watches you get comfortable on his bed and pull out a history textbook from your backpack.

“I mean you probably say that a lot, it rolls off your tongue easily.” You roll your eyes.

“Oh my God, come on. Are we seriously going to start arguing again.” Billy groans, walking in and turning the music up as he hears Neil and Susan walk in the front door. “I don’t say this shit to anyone but you.” He mutters sitting next to you on the bed and you try to hide a smile as you crack open the textbook.

“You just want to get in my pants again.” You say playfully rolling your eyes.

“I already told you, fucking you isn’t a priority in… this.” He motions between the two of you. “But if you are offering, I can make some things happen.” He winks playfully.

“Did I say you could have company?” Neil asks walking into the room and turning the music off, ignoring you all together to yell at Billy. “Did I not make it clear that you were grounded?”

“It’s not like we are having fun. We are doing homework, just like you arranged for her nag me to do.” Billy says in a condescending tone he immediately regrets.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hargrove. I figured that if he couldn’t come study, I would come over here to do so. I should have asked before I’d done so, my apologies.” You say, hoping that taking the blame for being here would excuse Billy from the fire behind Neil’s eyes.

“You should leave.” He says, not taking his eyes off Billy.

You look over at Billy who nods, silently telling you to go. You gather your stuff back up into the bag, leaving behind your notes for Billy. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and gently touch Billy’s shoulder before walking out of the room and past Susan. Standing out on the front porch you hear the yelling exchanged between Billy and Neil, despite wanting to walk back in there you walk back home.

You pull into your normal parking spot, just a few spaces away from Billy’s and see him standing against his car and smoking a cigarette, which would be normal except for the fact that he was alone. Normally Billy has someone hanging off of him, whether it be some girl or Tommy - today there was no one. You kill the engine and step out of your car, pulling your bag strap over your shoulder as you walk up to him.

“Hey, Billy.” You smile as you walk up to him but that smile falters when you see Billy’s busted lip and bruised cheek. “Oh, my God.” You gasp reaching up toward his face but he grabs your hand, stopping you.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, I’m fine.” He says nonchalantly as he blows the smoke away from your face.

“Did he-?”

“Can we just not talk about it?” He groans with the cigarette between his lips.

“Was it because I was over there?”

“No, I was mad and punched a hole in the wall.” He shakes his head, throwing the cigarette on the ground. “I know it didn’t seem like it yesterday but he actually likes you.”

“Billy, why haven’t you told-” You reach up again, gently touching his face as he winces.

“It doesn’t matter just stay out of it, okay.” He says firmly as he pushes your hand away again and walks toward the school.  

“Billy wait.” You say as you try to keep in step with him.

“I’m serious, just don’t. I’m fine.” He walks off, leaving you standing there.

“No, you aren’t.” You say quietly to yourself, watching him walk through the doors. You stand there for a few seconds before jogging the rest of the way and in through the doors to see Billy standing at his locker. “Billy!”

Billy turns around looking at you standing at the end of the hallway with a small smile on your face. Everyone else in the halls fell silent and are looking between you and Billy, trying to see what will happen, until you look around and give them a ‘mind your own business’ look and Billy walks over to you. Folding his arms across his chest he looks at you as he leans against the wall.

“Why are you smiling like that?” He questions as his smile get wider in curiosity.

“Let’s ditch school.” Your brilliant idea falls from your mouth, an idea you know he would love. You reach into the back pocket of his tight, denim jeans and pull out his keys, dangling them in front of his face. “What do you say?” “Let’s go.” He grabs the keys from your hand and throws his arm over your shoulder as the two of you walk back out the school doors and toward his car.

“No, as soon as I graduate I’m gone, leaving this place and my Dad behind.” Billy shakes his head, running his fingers through your hair as you head lays against his bare chest. His other hand slowly runs up and down your bare thigh.

“Where are you going to go?” You ask, propping yourself up on your arm to look at him, his eyes opened and focusing on the blue, cloudless sky above the two of you.

“Back to California. You should come with me.” He looks at you, both of your eyes connecting. “I know we aren’t a thing, although I wouldn’t mind you being just mine but you make leaving a little harder.” He says and everything about this moment screams vulnerability and you can tell it’s making Billy uncomfortable.

You sigh and lay your head back down on Billy’s chest, “I’d like that.” You say quietly with a smile, listening to his once slow rhythmic heartbeat speed up.

“You’d seriously come with me to California?” He asks, a smile on his face as he feels your fingers ghost across his abdomen.

“That and I wouldn’t mind being only yours.” You say quietly, drawing a heart on his chest with the pad of your finger. “Ya know, us being ‘a thing’ wouldn’t be so bad.” You bite the inside of your cheek, looking up at him.

“Wouldn’t be so bad at all.” He kisses your forehead and smiles back up at the sky. “We should get going school should be over soon.” He says as you both sit up, sliding off the hood of his car.

[babylooneytoonz]

I hit 150 today. Thank you all of you. I love all you 150 people and I hope you all are doing well. It's a lucky thing I'm actually done with one of the requests in my ask so as a celebration, I'm gonna post it. Here you go.❣️❣️❣️

His Head - Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader

Requested by: Anon(thank you for the request & hope you like it.❣️)

Warnings : Angsty / Not a very happy ending(for now).

Summary- Reader is an assassin and her mission is to spy on Shelby family and later killing Tommy. Which seems easy at first but of course reader falls in love with Tommy. Now she has two choices: telling him the truth and losing his love and trust or risking his death.

Smoke coiled around you, the room smothered in smoke and a wafting fragrance of your strong perfume. For the rest of London, you were a socialite— a young beautiful woman of twenty six, rich beyond capacity, having inherited all of her father's money when he was cruelly killed by the coppers for being a Communist.

A major scandal really.

But what London didn't know was who you really were — you were a spy, and a cold blooded assassin during the stealth of the night.

Even though you were strong and independent from the surface, you were still a woman. Alone without a family member to watch over you, without the protection and the name of a husband. And then there were the loans your father had taken, from the Italians; that were still unpaid. And thus, the Italians were after you.

When you could finally run no more, you decided to face your fear and met Luca Changretta at a pub in London. In order to spare your life, and relieve you of the loan that your father had died without repaying, you signed a contract for him— a contract that involved spying for a gangster called Thomas Shelby; the leader of the Peaky Blinders and then when you had all the information you wanted, your mission was to kill him.

But little did you know that you were going to fall in love with him.

Little did you know that you were going to land in a fix.

It wasn't difficult signing a business deal with Tommy Shelby in the first place. He knew who you were, he'd heard about you. He knew you were money. He knew you had a voice in London. And the best part of it all was, he thought you were beautiful. You could see in his lust filled, dilated pupils that you had captivated his attention, this minute you'd walked in through the Shelby Company LTD doors at an ungodly hour, after 10 pm, when most of the boys had left, and it was just Thomas Shelby and his two brothers working a late night.

They'd been shocked; the least they'd expected was a pretty little socialite from London to come knocking on their doors. But needless to say, you'd intrigued them all; the Shelby men. The only one that you couldn't break through was the matriarch, Polly Gray. When she saw you, she only eyed you with suspicion, causing you to shrug it off every time.

Time slowly passed, days turned to weeks and weeks flew by, turning into months, your tiny little business venture with the Shelby brothers as your partner; a pub in Small Heath, bigger and much more glamorous than what the Garrison had been, was finally booming. Everything was perfect, especially for Luca Changretta— he was getting all the information he wanted to but now he was getting impatient. He constantly pestered you, he wanted Thomas Shelby eliminated.

You were never an arrogant one, but neither were you a modest one. You knew you could do it, without any trouble, you could have the Shelby's head on a platter in one go as none of the Shelby's suspected your hidden, true identity. You could just do it and get free, once and for all, from Luca Changretta and the fucking Italians. And you would be lying if you said that the idea of finally getting the freedom you so desperately yearned for didn't fascinate you.

But somehow, down the line, doing business with the Shelby's, working with late nights, spending time at the pub with Thomas and John mostly, you had grown fond of them— you even considered Arthur and John your friends. As for Thomas Shelby, you did not know how and why this had happened, but you had grown to fancy him. Your heart rate grew at a rapid rate when he was around and your otherwise strong, confident self always weakened in his presence. You couldn't find the right words, or use your sarcasm and you always worried about your appearance when he was around.

You tried convincing yourself that this was just a phase, that you'll grow over it once your job was done. At first, it was easy, but now, when Luca's pressurising you had increased at a rapid pace, you didn't know anymore. You couldn't bring yourself to even imagine yourself hurting him, let alone killing him and it was torturing you.

Destroying you.

And it didn't make it better when one day, Tommy Fucking Shelby confessed his feelings for you, in his own way, by almost getting himself killed trying to protect your modesty. It had just been a normal night for you and you were walking back to your apartment after discussing a few renovation plans with the leader of the Peaky Blinders, when suddenly, out of nowhere, twelve drunk men had pounced on you, their lust filled eyes directed towards you, undressing you in their minds as their disgusting leers called out to you.

Somehow, there he was, stepping out to shield you from them, his gun drawn, one man against twelve. But of course, he'd scared them off, why wouldn't he— he was Thomas Fuckin' Shelby, a man who made grown men piss their pants.

It was supposed to make you feel better, no? But the joke was on you. It made you feel worse. It made you feel like a stranger to your own self.

It was okay for you, having feelings for him, as long as they were one sided. It kept you in check. And to be true to yourself, you had never thought that a man like Thomas Shelby, a man who could have any woman he laid his eyes on could ever want you. You didn't think you were pretty enough for him. You weren't a type of a Barbie doll, with long blonde hair or a slender, perfect body. You had your own flaws, your own scars, and bags under your eyes which only your makeup was able to hide. You didn't think Shelby would ever look at you in that way, but one night, when things escalated between him and you, it killed you.

It was just a normal, boring day in Birmingham and you were at your pub, staring at the bland white walls of it. You wanted a little colour but you weren't sure of which one you wanted, and neither were you sure if Thomas Shelby would agree. He always had his complaints and disagreements with you. So finally, after much pondering, you had finally decided to get few of Tommy's Peaky boys to paint the pub walls brown.

It was only around 9 at night when finally, the pub was empty again, and the Peaky boys finally left. You sat there by the bar counter, your fingers curled around your glass of gin, your eyes admiring how nice the brown walls now looked when the door opened.

"What the fuck?"

Your head turned sharply towards the door and your frown widened when you saw Tommy glaring at the walls with a look of distaste in his eyes.

"Yeah? Do you have any problem?"

"This looks —"

"Nice? Amazing?"

"Decent." He gave you a smug look and you rolled your eyes dramatically, pulling your gaze away from him and concentrating on twirling your glass in your palm. You felt him walk up to you and the next thing you knew, he'd taken his place on the stool on your left. This time, when you turned towards him, you could see his distilled blue eyes stare at you differently. You could sense that something was different and it felt like something was going on in his mind, though it always was, but today it was written all over his otherwise emotionless face.

"Spit it out Thomas, whatever it is you're bloody thinking."

Thomas pulled out his box of cigarettes from one of his pockets, offering one to you that you gladly accepted. He then lit a match, bringing the lit match closer to your face, lighting the end of your day first before he lit his own. Smoke coiled around the both of you and a silence followed, until Tommy spoke.

"I was thinking—"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Thinking what?" You turned towards him and he turned his gaze away; the confident, usual Tommy Shelby was nowhere in sight; this man looked nervous.

"Are you nervous? Really?" You smiled in a teasing way, wondering what it was that had made him act like this.

He gave you a warning look, his index finger lifted up slightly; so you pressed your lips into a firm line and took a drag of your fag, blowing out the smoke from your lips.

"There's a fair in town, nothing special. Would you want to go?"

You saw him tap his fingers against the surface of the counter and his words caused a tiny smile to break out against your lips.

"A fair? Really? Thomas Shelby wants to go to a fair?" You grinned.

"Just fuck off." He mumbled, reaching for your glass and downing the contents of it. "Fucking hell." He rolled his eyes and placed the glass back. "How do you even drink that? That's bloody pathetic."

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

It had been a fun evening; you didn't realise going to a bloody fair with Thomas Shelby would have been so much fun. You'd taken multiple rides, the merry-go-round, the giant wheel, and had snacked on multiple pastries, cupcakes and cookies, much to Tommy's chagrin. He dropped you back home at around dinner time and you waved him off, watching him drive away in his motorcar.

You were staying in a one bedroom apartment close to the Shelby Company LTD, a well furnished room until you decided to head back to London. You climbed up the flight of of stairs, humming to yourself at the same time fishing for your house keys in your purse when a sudden shock hit you. Your front door was wide open.

Instinctively, you pulled out your gun from your pocket and tightened your grip against it. Stealthily, you sneaked into your own apartment, your gun drawn out.

"Well, hello there to you too." Luca Changretta took a sharp drag of the fag, perched comfortably on your couch.

"What the fuck?" You snarled, sliding your gun back into your pocket and locking your door.

"You've been avoiding me, Ms. (L/N). Let me remind you, we had a deal. A fucking deal and now, you're not fulfilling your end of it." He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, glaring at you.

"There was no deadline, Mr. Changretta. I will do what I have to —"

"NO YOU WOULDN'T!" He screamed, cutting you off.

You were stunned to find yourself pressed to the wall. It was so quick, you mentally cursed yourself for having been so slow. What had happened to you? His palm was lodged to your throat, squeezing the life out of you — only, it wasn't enough to kill you. You gasped for air, trying to free yourself from him grip but his hold on you was tight.

"Now listen to me. You've got one night. Tonight you do what I've bloody asked you to do and if you don't, I'm coming for you first." With this, he slammed you hard against the wall, the back of your head hitting hard against the surface. Pain shot through the back of your head, almost causing blackness to shroud over your eyes but with what little vision you had, you gave him a glare full of hate, watching his silhouette disappear as he left you alone.

A few minutes later, you found yourself standing on the Arrowe House doorstep, your coat wrapped around your body, your gun and a pocketknife hidden securely in a garnet on your thigh. Tommy's housekeeper, Mary, let you in and she took your coat, informing you that Thomas is in his study. Nodding to her, you slowly made your way to his study and knocked.

"Mary, for fucks sake, I asked you not to disturb me—"

You pushed open the door and stepped in, your eyes falling on Thomas Shelby OBE, his round glasses on his eyes, a few papers in his hand and a pen. The minute his eyes fell on you, they softened and he kept the papers away.

"Is everything alright love?" He stood up and walked up to you, looking at you, head to toe, as if you were hurt. It was strange seeing him again, just an hour after he had dropped you back home. Your heart swelled up and tears clouded your eyes, you knew why you were here, Luca's words rang in your mind like a bell, again and again.

Until tonight.

The deadline was finally set—

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and blinked, hot tears sliding down your cheek.

"Did something happen? Tell me." His words were suddenly dark, his glare dangerous and possesive.

"Kiss me Thomas, please?" Your words came out a mere whisper and is if Tommy understood your thoughts, that whatever it was, it was something you couldn't tell him, he didn't ask you again, and instead, wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you into his embrace. Your hands wrapped around his neck and your fingers grabbed his hair as you kissed him with all the passion you could find.

When finally, out of breath, you finally pulled back, Thomas grabbed your arm and almost pulled you into him.

"What the fuck happened (Y/N)?"

"A nightmare." You lied.

"Stay with me tonight." He whispered, his expressions softening. And you nodded. You were staying with him tonight. You had no other option.

His arm snaked through your back and lifted you up bridal style as he slowly walked out of the study, his footsteps creaking against the floorboards as he made his way towards his bedroom. Your eyes outlined the side of his face, admiring his taut, chiseled jaw, his cheekbones as he kicked the door open with his foot and finally let you down. You knew he suffered from nightmares so you'd struck a chord in him.

"I'll just be right back." You whispered, making your way into the washroom when you saw him walk up to his closet and pull out a shorts.

You locked yourself up in the bathroom, pulling out the gun and the pocketknife , staring at your weapons, and at your own reflection in the window.

You could be free—it would take just one squeeze of a trigger.

Shaking those thoughts away, wanting to spend one last night with him before you ended this man's life, you hid the weapons underneath the washbasin and walked out of the bathroom.

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

You didn't sleep a bit, you just kept staring at the bland ceiling in Tommy's room, his hand locking you in place. His soft, carefree breathing relaxed you as your naked bodies lay entwined with each other under his silk sheets. Without wanting to disturb his sleep, you inched closer towards him, only to find him in a heavy slumber, laying on his front, his hair heavy and tousled, his lips parted as he exhaled and inhaled softly.

It was now or never.

Gently, you reached forward, placing your lips against the side of his face his temple, planting a soft, chaste kiss— before sliding out of bed. Tommy stirred in his sleep when you sneaked out of bed, wrapping his discarded shirt around yourself to cover your modesty as you tiptoed towards the bathroom.

You locked the bathroom door behind you, finding your body shaking at an abnormal pace, your heart palpilating. Pulling out your gun from underneath the washbasin, you placed it on the edge of the washbasin and took a deep breath.

You were in love with Thomas Shelby.

You loved him— so much, it killed you.

So you grabbed the scissors from a holder where a few of his combs were kept and grabbed your hair, your scissors working against your hair as you chopped off your lovely black locks, letting them scatter across his bathroom floor, your eyes swollen and red.

You didn't recognise this person you were now looking at. And maybe, Luca Changretta won't too— because you were not harming a hair on Tommy's head.

An hour later, you bit your lip hard, trying to blend yourself as much as you could into the crowd at the port, a straw hat covering your short cropped haired head, your hands empty and bare.

You felt regret, and a deep melancholy. You should have told him, you should have faced him, he deserved it but you couldn't do it— so you'd left before he even woke up, all traces of you gone. You'd cleaned up his bathroom floor, leaving your gun and your pocketknife there for him to find. You'd written him a note, writing to him that Luca Changretta wanted him dead, asking him to be careful and to always take care of himself. You had ended your note by asking him to live, you needed him to live, even if you would never see him again, it will bring you comfort in knowing that he is safe, somewhere. You had whispered to his sleeping form how much you loved him and how much this hurt and you'd swallowed your own tears as you sneaked out of the Arrowe House like a robber.

An empty handed robber.

And now here you were, leaving this country, once and for all, away from Thomas Shelby, away from Luca Changretta to make a new life for yourself.

You gripped the railing of the deck of the ship you were in hard, your knuckles turning white and watched as the land faded away from your sight— England, your home. You didn't know where you'd go, what you'd do there in America but you had no option. You wanted to live and you wanted Tommy Shelby to live.

[theseventhhex]

DJ Muggs Interview

DJ Muggs

Legendary hip-hop producer and Cypress Hill founder DJ Muggs has released his highly anticipated album ‘Dia Del Asesinato’. The album includes collaborations with DOOM, Raekwon, Freddie Gibbs, Kool G Rap, Meyhem Lauren, Mach-Hommy, Hus Kingpin, and Eto. Furthermore, the album comes on the heels of Muggs' hot streak of collab-projects with Meyhem Lauren including 2017's ‘Gems from the Equinox’ and this year's ‘Frozen Angels EP’. ‘Dia Del Asesinato’ is a conceptual album with an underlying theme of hip-hop combating corruption in society and government. Simply put, this record exemplifies an extraordinary talent sharing his musical undertakings with intellectual minds and unswervingly being able to summon remarkable and innovative music. Muggs’ willingness for origination is refreshing and essential, drawing on engaging experiences and always genuinely connecting to his audience… The Seventh Hex talks to DJ Muggs about dark beats, technological advancements and the pyramids of Giza…

TSH: Your terrific consistency continues with the awesome ‘Dia del Asesinato’. As you started work on this album, was it once again an instinctual case of doing what feels right and no preplanning?

Muggs: It was, yes. I had like 75 songs and in ways I was intent on using them all. I just wanted to create and I wasn’t putting too much thought into what would come out of it. All in all, there was definitely a lot of effort being put in. I was just in the lab putting in the hours and it all came about pretty naturally.

TSH: What’s the dynamic like when you go into your studio and you’re sampling from your own samples with so many to sift through and choose from?

Muggs: You know, none of this feels like work to me. I am blessed, man! I get to wake up every day and create art on my own terms, in my own time and in my own space - I’m blessed to live this kind of existence. I go into my studio five days a week and come up with different ideas. Sometimes I go through samples or I make beats, other times I work on atmosphere and pace - it’s always changing. I make sure I’m not a hamster on a wheel - I do something every day. Eventually, I’ll sit back with all these pieces, flip the process and I start putting the record together with my chosen names and my vision in mind.

TSH: Do you feel like your dark beats are embedded within you?

Muggs: The dark beats are what I’m all about - I spit them out without any thought and without even trying - it’s this natural energy that runs through me.

TSH: You’ve also alluded to the rawness of New York’s streets back in the day - how you feel this still exists and you even try to tap into this in the studio...

Muggs: Absolutely. You know, I feel like this raw energy exists within me. I can look at a picture and I can remember and go back to certain space. I can also listen to a song and feel it on a deep level. I feel like I’m living with this past energy that I miss and it will always be a part of me. I can tap into it at will and pull from there.

TSH: You had the legendary Kool G Rap and the iconic MF DOOM on board for ‘Assassination Day’. What was the process like in bringing this track together?

Muggs: Man, this track was pretty fucking easy. Having Kool G on board is always special because he can sound modern over anything. Also, I’ve known DOOM since 1988. We were even in a 3rd Bass video together in 1989 for the track called ‘Steppin' to the A.M.’ - we were riding in the back of a car. I actually hadn’t seen him in a while but when I reached out to him for this record, we chopped it up real quick and that shit was done quick.

TSH: You flew out to Barcelona to see DOOM and soon discovered that your chemistry resulted in you both being on the same wavelength...

Muggs: Absolutely. I flew out to Europe and sat in the studio with him for a few days. We did a bunch of shit together, and there’s still more to come. Also, DOOM is a producer too so he just understands shit from all angles. DOOM loved the dark and menacing tracks I had and he’d been looking to hop on to that kind of style for a while. A lot of times DOOM’s raps are pretty upbeat, but I just kept him dark and dirty with my beats. I was bringing to mind night time New York - walking through an alley with a gritty feel.

TSH: What resonates with you most with a track like ‘Yacht Party’?

Muggs: Yo, this track just simply makes me feel like I’m on a fucking yacht having a party! When I met up with Raekwon for this one, we were just talking and I told him that this shit makes me envision a yacht party with some big Hefe shit and some big narcos shit going down. Kind of like where all the big drug-dealers come together on a yacht and talk business.

TSH: Having observed the technological advancements in the music industry over the years, do you embrace the changes?

Muggs: You know, the industry as a whole and the business side of things is so different now. It’s a way different beast to what it used to be. You know what it is though; I’m my own industry and business at this time. I guess technology has its pros and cons but it’s all’s about finding a healthy balance. Technology actually helps me to be able to go direct to the fans and the consumer without needing music distribution. Also, now I shoot all of my own videos, I take my own pictures and I maintain control over my overall vision. I don’t have to wait for a director or have budget concerns. Back in the day when we did the artwork, we had to fuckin FedEx the artwork, now I get it in a second. Overall, I embrace technology because I don’t have to deal with dumbass donkeys on my team when I have a project in the works. Instead, I have a team full of smart guys and everything flows like it’s supposed to.

TSH: Given all the bedlam in the world and negativity coming from all angles, how do you like to obtain a positive headspace?

Muggs: I just play with my dogs, man. Also, I love spending time with my kids, hitting the gym or having a good conversation and good laughs with my friends. I mostly spend my time in my studio. My studio is like a clubhouse; sometimes we don’t even work. Various artists comes there and hang out, it’s a space where all these masterful minds can come together and bring all these thoughts and ideas together in one place and conjure up some awesome shit.

TSH: You recently spent a night in the king’s chambers in the pyramids of Giza. What was this experience like?

Muggs: Pretty fucking amazing! The shit that I experienced in there I really can’t speak about, but it was fucking mind-blowing. At first I was kind of apprehensive and a little nervous about going in because no cameras are allowed so I snuck my phone in, but it was on 5% battery walking in. But yeah, once I was in there I sat there and meditated and had some interesting visions.

TSH: What’s satisfied you most with regards to your way of working on this record?

Muggs: Just the fact that I’ve had fun, man. It’s just great to get into the studio with some amazing names and learn from them. As much as a master I am, you’ve got to constantly be a student and I just continue to learn. Whenever I share time with amazing artists with great minds, I talk to them and I get to learn and explore further. Every time I learn something new, I realise how much I don’t know.

TSH: Finally, What is your biggest drive with your future musical endeavours as you look ahead?

Muggs: My biggest drive is to explore the unknown. I want to unravel the mysteries that are going to be out in front of me. I want to do things that I haven’t done before and work with new talent that inspires me. I have to stay open and remain non-judgmental, but always remember to have fun and bring good energy to the table. I‘ll continue to learn, but I also want to teach others that reach out to me and come around me. I want to be the type of energy that comes into a room and makes everybody better with my presence.

DJ MUGGS - “Assassination Day (feat. MF Doom & Kool G Rap)”

DJ MUGGS - “Death Wish feat. Freddie Gibbs”

Soul Assassins: Dia Del Asesinato

[thesecrettoadventure]

23 and me

And what a year of ambition it was. On my birthday last year I was becoming a NYC real estate agent and now one year later I’m working for the New Zealand government. In between that I’ve helped open 3 cafes, worked at many more establishments, began the process of becoming a Canadian and Australian citizen, moved across the world and began a healthier lifestyle.  

Beginning the year of 23 in the best city of the world becoming a real estate agent, at the height of its lucrativeness and excitement. I joined one of the top firms in the city, and damn did I learn so much. Commission is so very much about consistency and perception, there is no such thing as an easy client. Also, this isn’t the business of playing nice, a lot of the aggression and hustle that I carry now is from telling landlords, building managers and other agents how I wanted things done. My managers told me things I didn’t want to hear everyday that I was in the office, I wasn’t in the office everyday because I was also opening NY’s latest gluten free and vegan cafe and working at one of LES’s best cocktail bars that was mentioned as one of the worlds best bars more than once. A lot on my plate, a lot of ambition, a lot of good ideas. 

Not too much later, 20 days into being 23 I was walking to the newest Australian owned cafe in the Financial District with my utmost supportive housemate Morgan, and it was there under the scaffolding when I heard the *swoosh* of an incoming email, that email was from Australian immigration. My heart rushed, we walked a little faster to the cafe, was sat down to a beautiful sunlit corner booth and just some of the best waitstaff. We rushed to order coffee and connect to wifi to read further on the email from immigration. It read: your invitation to apply for permanent residency has been granted. When the coffee arrived to the table so did the tears, so there I was explaining my two year battle with Australian immigration to the waitstaff, my new found friends. The call to dad and mom were made, it was happening! A call to my immigration lawyer later that week and so so many happy tears later reared an ugly truth...this was all a false alarm. Without boring you with the details about Australian visa and every legal term there was a false approval with one of the steps necessary to apply for the permanent residency visa. Instead of being absolutely crushed(as I previously have been, it’s been a damn journey) I decided to take it and keep pushing, I’m now well on my way to good news from Australian Immigration! 

I spent the summer experiencing NY between the moments I had between the countless jobs. The sunshine brought my first trip to the Hamptons, and a little pep in my step. Working at a world class bar, opening a gluten free, vegan cafe and dabbling into the newest Australian cafe that the Upper East Side has been gifted with. If not too much, way too much time inside of clubs with reeling hangovers the next day to be greeted with the bagel guy at our front door that we wisely ordered our second drink into the evening. Real estate was kicking my ass and teaching me things I never thought I’d learn. I’d gained so much weight that I was at my heaviest ever. Relationships if that’s what you want to call them came just as fast as they went. And somewhere among all of that I saw an opportunity to move to New Zealand, a mate of mine who I had lived with in Melbourne had recommended it and there I was after work(not sure which job) around 3am had me applying for my Working Holiday Visa for New Zealand, big breath in and hit apply. And there I sat and waited. But not for long.... 

Another Australian duo approached me to come and help their cafe in the Financial District, they heard about my work from the first project I worked on in New York. So, if you know me at all, you know what I told them. I told them yes, I’d love to help but I applied for a visa to move to New Zealand so I’ll be here until the end of August and that’s it. So we opened a cafe, I saw the first month of the project & I met another bunch of personalities and ran into new problems with opening cafes, yet so so rewarding. Emotions run so high when opening a new business and its cut throat out in NYC. But I left the venture to see the world knowing that Australia was well along the way for me and NYC got to have a taste of Australian coffee and cuisine.

A drunken taxi ride to Mexico, I had a very teary final evening in NY with my closest friends and from there I took a car to the airport with a few drinks in me and strings of goodbye texts that only lead to more tears. The plane that I boarded that night landed in Guadalajara, Mexico the next morning with my dad and his new retirement smile plastered on his face. When I left NY I packed all of my belongings but also knowing I’d be in Mexico for the first month, let me tell you that was an experience in its own and I have no advice for it. But from there dad and I toured many cities of Mexico preparing him for the long haul of retirement, we saw, we ate, we shook with the earthquakes, we drank, we beached, attempted fishing and we damn well conquered, I fell in love with Mexico City, its officially on the list of places I’d live, its bigger than NYC and its got a pulse and a hunger, the city does sleep unlike NYC, or should I say siésta! But I felt ready to get back to civilization and take a big breath before plunging into another hemisphere. A quick layover in LA included a Soulcycle class, Bouchon Bistro Beverly Hills and a drive down PCH to Laguna Beach, a trip that took me back and truly made me appreciate where I’m from, California is truly a slice of heaven.

New Zealand is called Middle Earth for a lot of reasons, I’m going to use it for the term being between the 20th and 21st century, they have Internet here, but it’s not far off from dial up, the Apple products are behind and some buses only come once an hour. My NYC pulse and plan of action got me settled within the first 24 hours, signing up for the gym, getting a library card, grocery shopping, having a phone plan, a tax file number and a bank account. But after that, my life came to an absolute halt with the pace that they move here, amount of breaks and minimum customer service my life had changed and it is very different than the life I lived a year ago. I’ve learned so much from being here about relaxing but found much frustration in it at the same time. I began working as a temporary chef, a new location everyday and different hours everyday, honestly it was perfect for me I’m not one for routine so it was great and I learned so much about the hospitality food scene at the same time. The food scene still to this day 6 months later has been uninspiring so far, so I’m still looking for innovation here but who knows where it’ll come from, I’ll keep looking and keep you posted. 

As long as my parents have been divorced, which is as long as I can remember. They always call me within 5 mins apart, text me at the same time, if I’m on the phone with one, the other will call. Even when in separate countries, all three of us! In January I received those two calls that no one wants to hear. My mom called me to let me know my grandmother passed away, we weren't expecting this at all and I was shocked. A heavy heart and teary eyes I texted dad while mom was on speaker to let him know I’d be stateside and the second call came in...my other grandmother in Canada was at this point in palliative care now with a brain bleed and not much life to spare. Broken is the only way I can describe that moment, I got those phone calls around lunch time and I was on a plane home before sunset that day, even surrounded by my closest friends in New Zealand theres no where else I wanted to be than home. Being surrounded by family and old friends patched my heart up the most it could. I left one funeral in my black dress and flew to Canada directly after to catch the red eye to make it on time for the next funeral. My heart still hurts, but I have so much strength instilled in me from both of them, I am so lucky to have known them for my 23 years. But I am still healing and grief is a part of me now, I take it as it comes, it’s usually a lot but the good memories keep me going.

I came back to a windy Wellington with a clear mind. I decided to stop cooking food I’m not proud of and working for businesses who’s operation I don’t find to be up to standard. So I sold out and got an office job, but you know what? I love it. I’m well aware that’s the unpopular opinion, but know I have a structured life(and paycheck!), I can make it to the gym everyday on my lunch and I am fully capable of managing office stress from all that I’ve been through in kitchens. Although I know I’ll be back in kitchens when Im in Australia for the time being It’s great, my mind, body and soul thank me. I have so much time to cook at home, work on personal projects and stay healthy. So now I work for a temporary office work agency that places me on assignments for a few weeks at a time, I’ve worked in private asset managing previously and now I work for the New Zealand government, so I’d say it’s been a fuckin’ year of ambition. 

In short, 23 taught me:

CAREER: Work smarter, not harder.

LOVE: The right time will come, it can not be predicted or planned.

LIFE: Don’t stop traveling 

So, what’s in store of the 24th year? This is the year of SUCCESS

success - /səkˈsɛs/ noun: the accomplishment of an aim or purpose

Stay tuned.....