#yes bartender give me a glass of liquid smoke

[bogusfilth]

ipa discourse ignoring the fact that all enjoyment is just consuming something that is awful and you hate until you love it

[itsmealaiah]

HARDCORE SMUT W dom!JOHNNIE

yes 😈

More

tags/ warnings: drunk sex, 18+ reader, p in v, dom! johnnie, pushing cum back in with fingers

MDNI ⚠️

pairing: johnnie x fem

do not repost, claim as your own, translate, or copy. read only @itsmealaiah

1.6k words

In the dimly lit bar, the aroma of stale cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey filled the air. The floorboards creaked beneath the weight of patrons, their laughter and idle chatter a cacophony of sounds that seemed to echo off the exposed brick walls. A lone figure sat at the far end of the room, nursing a glass of scotch and lost in thought. Tonight, he was feeling particularly reckless. He signaled the bartender for another round, his fingers tapping impatiently on the bar top as he waited. The bartender, an older man with a weathered face and a knowing smile, slid the glass across the polished wood. Johnnie nodded his thanks and tossed back the amber liquid, feeling the warmth spread through his chest.

As the night wore on, Johnnie began to feel a familiar buzz take hold. He glanced around the room, taking in the crowd, the music, the energy. He couldn't help but feel invincible, unstoppable. Standing up, he made his way through the crowd, weaving between the tables and chairs with practiced ease. His eyes landed on a figure across the room, a woman who had caught his attention earlier. You were stunning, with long, h/c hair and eyes that seemed to sparkle in the dim light. Johnnie made his way over to you, his confident stride belying the alcohol that flowed through his veins. As he approached, you looked up at him, your lips curving into a mischievous smile. "Buy you a drink, handsome?" you purred, your voice low and sultry. Johnnie grinned, his teeth flashing white in the semidarkness. "Only if I can buy you a few more," he replied, gesturing for the bartender.

As you both clinked glasses, the alcohol ignited a fire in your belly. You felt alive, electric, and the air between you and Johnnie seemed to crackle with anticipation. You couldn't help but wonder what he had planned for the rest of the night. Maybe he'd take you back to his place, or maybe he'd show you a good time here. The possibilities danced in your head, making your heart race. You glanced at Johnnie, taking in his strong jawline, his broad shoulders, and the way his eyes seemed to glow when he looked at you. You could tell he was a dominant man, a man used to getting what he wanted. And right now, you found yourself wanting nothing more than to give in to him.

The music grew louder, the crowd more raucous, but you didn't notice. You were lost in the moment, the heat of Johnnie's gaze, the feel of his body pressed against yours. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt this alive, this wanted. And as he leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing against your ear, you shivered with anticipation. "I think it's time we left this place," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "Take me home, where we can really let loose."

You nodded, your heart racing, and followed him out of the bar, weaving through the throngs of people on the sidewalk. The night air was cool against your skin, and you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You knew whatever Johnnie had in store for you back at his place would be intense, but you were more than ready. As you turned the corner onto his street, you paused for a moment, taking in the dimly lit apartment building looming before you.

"After you," Johnnie said, gesturing grandly for you to go ahead. You nodded and moved past him, your hips swaying subtly as you climbed the stairs to his apartment. The sounds of your heels echoed off the walls, amplifying your presence in the quiet hallway. When you reached his door, you turned around to find Johnnie standing just behind you, his eyes fixed on your body. "You look so fucking sexy right now," he growled, reaching out to tug at your hair, pulling your head back so that you're forced to look up at him. "I can't wait to have you."

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel your nipples harden under your clothes. You reached out and twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open and stepping aside to let Johnnie enter first. As you follow him inside, the scent of his cologne fills the air, mingling with the faint smell of sex that lingers in the fabric of his clothes. The living room is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a small lamp on the coffee table. A plush throw blanket is spread out on the floor, and a pair of handcuffs glints in the soft light.

"Perfect," you breathe, closing the door behind you. You walk over to the blanket, kicking off your shoes as you go. "I thought you'd like this," you say, your voice husky with desire. You crawl onto the blanket on all fours, presenting your back to him. "Take off my clothes."

There's a moment of silence as you feel Johnnie step closer, his warm breath tickling the hairs at the nape of your neck. His hands are rough as they slide up your thighs, parting your legs, and then they're tugging at your blouse, baring your breasts to the cool air. He kneels between your spread legs, his eyes raking over your body before he leans in to kiss your shoulder. "You're so fucking beautiful," he growls into your ear, his voice thick with lust. He trails his lips down your neck, sucking gently on your skin as his fingers work at the button of your pants. "I can't wait to fuck you."

With a sharp tug, he yanks your pants and underwear down your legs, leaving you completely naked before him. You feel a surge of power course through you as you watch him look his fill, his gaze traveling from your bare feet, up your long legs, to your splayed pussy. You feel wet and aching for him, and when he finally meets your eyes, you can see the hunger in his gaze mirrored in your own. He reaches out, grasping your hips, and guides you back until you're lying on the blanket, your head thrown back in invitation.

"Spread your legs," he commands, his voice rough and demanding. You do as he says, opening yourself to him. He climbs on top of you, his hard cock pressing against your slick folds, teasing at the entrance to your body. With a groan, he thrusts forward, burying himself inside you in one swift motion. You arch your back, crying out in pleasure as he fills you, feeling so impossibly full and wanted. He starts to move, his hips slapping against yours in a rhythm that sends sparks flying through your body.

You can feel every inch of him inside you, stretching you and claiming you as his own. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he drives deeper, harder, faster, his breath hot against your neck. The sensation of being taken by him like this, of being completely at his mercy, is exhilarating. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper still. He growls in response, his thrusts becoming even more forceful.

As he moves, the friction between your bodies sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the tension building inside, a tightening deep in your core that threatens to overwhelm you. "I'm going to make you cum," he growls into your ear, his hips thrusting harder as he pounds into you. You moan, arching your back in response, feeling the familiar tightening start to coil in your belly.

With every thrust, he hits a spot deep inside you that sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Your fingernails scrape down his back, leaving little red lines in their wake as you try to get closer, to feel him deeper. He's relentless, his hips moving with a brutal force that drives you closer and closer to the edge.

The air is thick with the sound of your labored breathing, mingling with the wet slaps of his hips against yours. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the muscles in his arms and back straining as he holds himself up, holding you down. You're so close now, you can feel it building, building, building…

With a groan that rumbles through his chest, he thrusts one final time, pushing you over the edge. Your body arches impossibly tight, and your pussy clamps down around him in a powerful spasm. You cry out his name as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, leaving you spent and sated. He continues to move inside you, his hips a blur as he finds his own release, his hot cum spilling into you, filling you up.

As he comes, he lets out a growl that vibrates through your entire body. His fingers dig into your hips, urging you closer as he pushes his cum back in, leaving you screaming.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he gasps, collapsing on top of you. His weight is comforting, grounding. You feel like you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in his arms, his scent, his warmth. His fingers continue to move, pushing his cum deeper inside you, making you feel even more full and wanted. He nibbles at your neck, sucking gently on your skin, before kissing his way back up to your ear. "This isn't over" he whispers, his voice husky.

[rae-ha-writes]

The Hurt - Kim Hongjoong

Featuring: Hongjoong x gn!reader

Themes: angst bitches

Warnings: obviously some not so nice words(this does not represent joong at all we all know he’s a sweetheart)

w/c: 902

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Hey, we’re gonna head home will you be okay?” My friends ask me as I sit at the bar talking to the bartender.

I turn my head and nod, “Yeah, I’ll be good. They know me in here, they take care of me here.” I smile brightly and usher them out the door, waving as they walk out of sight. I turn back to the drink in my hand, my smile fading now that I’m alone. I swirl the liquid around in the glass before tipping the rest of it into my mouth. I get up and put my coat back on before walking to the door.

“I’ll be back, just going out for a smoke,” I wave to the bartender.

I make my way to the side of the building and stand in the shadows. I reach in my pocket and get my cigarettes out, as I place one between my lips I retrieve my lighter. As I light it I continue playing with my lighter while puffing out smoke. I put my lighter back in my pocket and lean my head back against the wall staring into the faint stars in the sky above me. I breathe in the toxic smoke and hold it in to the point it started to really burn. I close my eyes and exhale a lung full of smoke, only to hear shuffling beside me.

“You really shouldn’t be out here alone,” I look to the side to see Hongjoong facing me. “Let alone smoking.”

I chuckle sinisterly and face the sky again, “Since when did you care what I did in my free time?” Another puff. I turn to see his eyebrows furrowed, confusion evident on his features.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He cocks his head to the side and studies my body language, typical.

“It means exactly what I said, don’t pretend to care,” smoke leaving my mouth as I speak.

He moves so he’s standing right in front of me and narrows his eyes, “What the fuck are you on about?”

I sneer to myself and roll my eyes before replying, “I mean that you chose to care about me when your girl is preoccupied with something else. You think I didn’t catch on?” I chuckle at the look of disbelief on his face. “The alcohol hasn’t fucked up my brain yet Joong.”

“You’re unbelievable.” He scoffs and turns away before facing me again, “I came here to check on you because no one else seems too. And she’s not my girl! I knew this week had been hard on you, so I came here ready to ease that discomfort and pain.” He rants quickly while running a hand through his hair.

“Well you failed, because I still am unhappy and uncomfortable and in pain!” I raise my voice at him slightly.

“You didn’t even give me a chance, you just shut me down and out. It’s tiring for me too, you’re not the only one who doesn’t find joy in this situation!” He starts walking away from me.

I laugh while tears spring from my eyes, “God forbid someone gives you a challenge! You are the problem! You are the root to my pain and agony!” I throw my cigarette on the ground watching him slowly turn around.

“Me? What do you mean?” He doesn’t come closer, just stays where he is staring at me like I’m crazy.

“It hurts, Hongjoong.”

“What do you mean?” He takes a step closer.

“Loving someone who doesn’t love you back,” I say as I grind the cigarette butt into the ground.

Silence.

I scoff and hang my head down watching some tears fall to the ground.

“What? You thought I liked hearing you explain how good it feels to fuck her? Why yes, I’m so thrilled to hear about the body that takes up the space I wish was mine. You just don’t get it and you never will. You never had to fight tooth and nail for someone’s love or to feel valid enough to love that person.” I wipe the tears off my cheeks with the back of my hand. I look up to see he took a few steps backward, away from me.

“That’s right, make me the villain in this fairytale. I couldn’t bring myself to care what I’m labeled anymore—”

“Shut up!” He yells at me making me coil backwards into the wall. “You’re being unfair, no one is making you the villain. If anything you are the only other person with importance in my book.”

“You can try and sweet talk me but it won’t work, not now.” I button up my coat and start walking past him. “You see I’ve accepted the fact that you’ll never love me the way I love you. Frankly, I don’t want to be just another body to you, I’d rather be nothing at all.”

I’m now standing shoulder to shoulder with him, I see a few tears fall on his cheeks.

“Loving you hurt me so bad. To the point where I don’t want to feel anything towards you anymore,” with that I walk away from the one man I’ve ever loved.

Finally the feeling of completely losing you hits him like a freight train. His tears flow down his cheeks, he’s only able to whisper what he’s been wanting to tell you:

“But I love you just as much.”

   rae-ha-writes please do not copy my work

[reallyprofoundkryptonite]

Grains of Sand

I may post this on ao3, but for now, here’s this. It’s short, yes, but I may add more. Full story under the cut.

Summary: Krogan finds a solice-filled moment with a past lover. (Also Krogan being a bit of a sap :3)

Ship: Viggo/Krogan

Krogan chewed on the stub of the rolled up dragon root blunt he’d recently lit, a dark glare settling across his face as he stared across the room, out the window, where stars glinted far above.

He took a moment, and grabbed the blunt from his mouth to puff smoke from his lungs. It laszily curled around his heavily scarred nose. The scars looked a lot worse than the wound had been.

Along the left side of his face, sharp talons had seared through his cheek, over his nose, and ripped up his right eye, effectively blinding it, and hiving it a milky, pale film.

He was even lucky he managed to escape, but by faking his death with some cleverly strewn puddles of blood, and an already dead corpse wearing his clothes- and a face that slightly resembled his own- it was easy enough.

“Ph,” he grunted. Maybe not that easy, considering at that point he had multiple heavily bleeding head wounds, a fractured sternum, and a cracked tibia- which had ended up completely breaking, but he was getting around fine, if limping a little.

He sucked in a bit of air through his nose, before snorting it out.

Krogan then stood from his slouched position against the far wall, startling the man sat next to him at a table. Krogan spared him a sideways glance at the slightly shocked expression the man had smacked on his face, mouth slightly ajar.

Krogan snorts, and shifted away from the edge of the room. He’s known that look for a long time. No one expected him to be as tall as he was. It was normal, everyday.

Krogan placed his blunt back into his mouth, as he moved to the front of the slightly grimy room of the tavern. The lanterns that lit the room had fireworms scrambling around in them, which sent light flickering across the room whenever the fiery creatures flicked their tongues or clambered around in their impromptu cages.

With a small grunt, Krogan settled into one of the stools at the front of the bar, shooting a disdainful glance at the ground, however he did not voice his disgust at how short the stools were, nor the fact that his legs had to be squished and cramped underneath the heavy, lacquered pine countertop.

“Bit tall, ain’t ye?” The bartender grunted, lifting himself from his slouched position, wiping off a glass.

“Mhm’.” Krogan rumbled, slouching against the bar, placing his elbows on the counter. “Can I get a Mayer Whiskey?”

The bartender nodded.

“Yer lucky.” He said. “We got one bottle o’ the stuff left.”

Krogan gave him a glance, and then tilted his head when the deep, amber brown fluid was placed down in front of him.

“Thank you.” Krogan grunted, giving the man (what he hoped) was a friendly half smile.

Internally, he gave a happy noise, when the man gave him a toothy grin back.

“No problem, mister.” The bartender turned to go back to cleaning the glasses along the wall.

Krogan, however, slid him a few gold pieces, and took his first sip of whiskey. It was sweet, and most definitely a divine flavor, just how he liked it.

He closed his eyes, giving a contented rumble as the liquid burned down his throat.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in…” someone plopped down in the seat next to him, and Krogan slowly opened his eyes.

“You have got to be fuckin kidding me…” he grit out, as he slowly turned his head to stare daggers at the smugly grinning Viggo Grimborn.

“How are you not dead, you bastard?” Krogan hissed, gripping his cup a bit tighter, his knuckles turning white, the glass creaking beneath his grip.

“I could ask you the same thing, Krogan.” Viggo snorted. “You stick out like a sore thumb if you know what you’re looking for, by the way.”

Krogan’s ears shifted, halfway pinning back, his brows cinching together.

“And why were you looking for me if you thought I was dead?” Krogan raised a brow (the one that wasn’t currently paralyzed due to his healing facial scars.)

“I had a sneaking suspicion that you probably weren’t dead.” Viggo said, his face growing a bit more serious. “You have a pretty nasty habit of not staying dead.”

Krogan gave a small laugh.

“Is that a threat?” Krogan asked, lowering his gaze slightly to look Viggo up and down. He still looked… somewhat the same… a bit skinnier, but it was probably due to not being able to access the same food as before. Krogan, however, hadn’t lost a pound- and he was proud of that- stealing and hunting had a lot of effort in it, and even if scrounging up a bit of food got him some calories, he still needed to watch what he was eating.

“Oh, no, of course not.” Viggo purred. He slowly reached out, and gave a small, somewhat grateful, if not wholly relived smile.

His hand landed on Krogan’s chin, swiping at the bit of dragon root that was crumbled at the corner of Krogan’s lip.

“I’m just happy you’re alive.”

Krogan gave a slightly disgruntled noise, feeling his cheeks start to heat up in embarrassment and flustered disgruntlement.

“Viggo-“ Krogan grunted, however, he slowly reached up, placing a gentle hand on Viggo’s. He then looked to the side. He and Viggo hadn’t seen each other on the best of terms the last time.

“Do you-“

“Of course I forgive you, Krogan.” Viggo interrupted. “Don’t feel bad.”

Krogan looked back at him, and then he slowly glanced around, making sure no eyes were on them, before he leaned in, wrapping his arms around Viggo’s neck.

In one, gentle moment, he gently placed a kiss on Viggo’s mouth, and nuzzled his nose into Viggo’s. Despite the rocky past, Krogan had a feeling he wanted to stay with Viggo.

Just to be safe.

[bewitchingbooktours]

Her Name Was Lola by Karen Janowsky

Her Name Was Lola

Karen Janowsky

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Publisher: eXtasy Books

Date of Publication: 12/22/23

ISBN:  978-1-4874-4027-5

Number of pages: 300 

Word Count: 8,859

Cover Artist: Martine Jardin

Tagline: Sometimes you have to lose your heart to gain your dream.

Book Description:

Lover of fairy tales Lola Nelsson learned at an early age that darker truths lay behind their bright facades. At twenty-two, she still hopes for her fairy tale to come true before she graduates college. But she hasn’t met her prince yet and she doesn’t know how to navigate the real world. Then a handsome man at a conference catches her eye. She’s sure he’s out of her league, but tries to get his attention anyway. And she’s successful… until she isn’t.

Only one thing matters to Professor Vance Anderson—gaining tenure. Known as Dr. Casanova on campus, he’s a true love ‘em and leave ’em kind of guy. For now though, he’s sworn off the distraction of women. When he spots a beauty of a different sort at a conference, he can’t stop thinking about her.  But when she accepts his invitation to his room, his insecurities kick in. Everything goes well… until it doesn’t.

The night ends disastrously, and it’s all over. Until Lola and Vance wind up in a working relationship, making it impossible to avoid one another. The situation can only end in one of two ways. They’ll either end up madly in love or they’ll want to kill each other. Before they can discover their real feelings, they need to learn to trust themselves. Only time will tell if their fairy tale is sweet or dark.

Amazon      Google Books     Bookbub     Goodreads   

Excerpt:

From behind Lola, a pleasant, male alto voice said, “Hi, I’m Vance.”

She turned around and found her five-foot-four self face-to-solid-chest with GQ. Taking a step backward and sure she’d turned pale, she looked up at him. The peeling name badge on his lapel said, M. Vance, but his last name was hidden by a shadow. “Oh, hi. I’m Lola.”

Vance held a shot glass in each hand. He was smiling, lips pulled back a little too much, as if he was unsure of himself. “Your friend told me I was being very obvious about staring at you and to go introduce myself. She said to give you this.” He handed her a whiskey.

His eyes were the color of freshly mown grass with silver flecks of dew at sunrise. When they locked on hers, her hands began to sweat, making the glass slip through her palm when she took it from him.

She grabbed it with the other hand at the last second. “Oh. Okay.”

He clinked his glass against hers, downed the shot, then smiled at her again. His upper lip had a minutely askew cherub’s bow.

Knocking hers back as well, Lola did her best not to react to the five-alarm fire scorching through her esophagus. She was reasonably sure smoke was about to billow from her nose and ears. Then that warm, melty feeling crept in.

Okay, Naomi. Here goes. “To be honest, I was watching you too.”

“Were you now?” He arched his eyebrows.

Silently thanking Naomi, Lola asked, “So, are you a visiting speaker?”

“I’m attending. I teach at Jewett College. You?”

“I’m at Jewett also. Library science department.” Hopefully he wouldn’t ask what she did there.

She’d tell him the rest later…if they hit it off.

His fingers lingered over hers as he took the drink glass from her hand. “Another?”

One was her usual limit, and balancing on heels after two was inadvisable. “Yes, please.” She let him guide her through the crowd surrounding the bar.

He offered her an empty barstool and stood next to it as he waved at the bartender. “How long have you been at the college? I don’t recognize you.” He lowered his eyes and raised them to her again, offering an uncertain smile as he smoothed his hand over his thigh.

Looking down, she noticed her topped-off glass. “I’m going into my fourth year.” Lola swirled her fresh drink and watched the amber liquid make slow, wavy circles. She saw a chip in her pale pink nail polish and fought the urge to tuck it into her palm. “What about you? Where do you work?”

“In the English Department.”

GQ—or probably Dr. GQ—Vance—shivered a little when he slid his hand toward hers until their fingertips were millimeters apart. A tiny static spark jumped between them and they both chuckled.

Lola drank half of the shot. “What do you teach?”

“Comparative and European literature. My specialty is fairy tales.”

“I’ve been obsessed with fairy tales—the real ones, not the kids’ ones—for as long as I can remember.”

Vance leaned against the bar. “Same.”

A new song began, and they listened as he played with his tie for a few moments. “After watching you in action, I’m not sure I can keep up, but feel like a dance?”

Lola blinked then nodded. The rest of the room bobbed slightly with her head. She slid off the stool, and he rested his hand on the small of her back as they wound through the crowd. Heat radiated through the thin fabric of her dress.

He took her hand in his. They were about five paces from the dance floor when a man caught her shoulder, causing her and Vance to stumble backward.

“You’re not gonna pass by without a hello, are you?” The tall, thin man had brown roots and blond tips. His hand was sweaty and his words slurred.

Vance looked at her. “Do you know him?”

Sobering, she shook her head, grateful that the world didn’t move with it.

The man sidled closer and squeezed her shoulder more tightly.

Letting go of her hand, Vance took a step toward him.

Lola tugged her shoulder away and pulled a hair stick from her updo. Stepping closer, she waved the tapered end at the stranger.

He gasped and stepped backward, letting go of her shoulder.

“Leave me alone.” She kept her voice as quiet and stern as she could.

The man muttered, “Slut,” as he retreated.

Lola replaced the stick through what was left of her updo.

Vance licked along his teeth. “You’re already full of surprises.”

The night’s cool dampness draped around the crowded dance floor, covering them like an airy shawl as they found their way to an open space.

“Remind me never, ever to upset you.” He spread his fingers over her mid-back and held her hand to his chest. His heart beat against her palm as he held it there, his hand cool and dry.

They looked at each other and smiled.  He said “ever.” As in future tense. As in "long term." I should probably let him know I’m a student now. That could wait a few minutes more.

She inhaled a mix of tangerines, leather, and something else—ginger, maybe—that she could almost taste as his scent hovered between them. She moved closer, and their hips touched.

There was an unmistakable twitch against her. She was sure it was a trick of the lights that made him appear to blush.

This might happen.

He took a half-step back, face pink against the white lights that  outlined him. She imagined using her finger as a silver gel pen around his jaw, under his cheekbones, and across his forehead, illuminating his face. He brought his hand farther down her back.

She raised her voice over the music. “So, what’s your favorite fairy tale?”

He lowered his head closer to hers. Their mouths were centimeters from each other. “What?”

She asked again.

He said something.

She tilted her head up. “Didn’t catch that.”

Chuckling, he leaned in until his mouth was close to her ear. Cupping it, he repeated,

“It’s hard to talk here. Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” The whiskey on his breath had mellowed to spiced caramel, and his voice melted through her.

The imaginary talking mice scampering under her skin morphed into butterflies. “Okay.”

Holding her hand, Vance led her into the lobby. Her heart thumped like a scared rabbit’s as he threaded his fingers between hers. She glanced toward the quieter, emptier bar, but he kept going straight toward the elevator bank.

“Grimm, Andersen, or Perrault?” Vance winked.

Lola bit her lip and released it. “Why do you ask?”

Vance seemed to stare at her mouth. Narrowing his eyes, he stopped and gave her a closed-mouthed smile. “Good to know whether you’re into physical pain, mental torture, or happy endings.”

“What?” Lola froze as her jaw dropped.

Vance tilted his head back and laughed. “I’m kidding.” He headed toward the elevators again, but Lola couldn’t move. He stumbled back. “I’m harmless. I promise.”

She glanced around the vast lobby, checking for security officers.

“I didn’t mean to upset or scare you.” Leaning in, he lifted the back of her hand to his lips, then smiled that same smile that had dissolved her into a puddle the first time she’d laid eyes on him.

“All right.”

He led her into an empty elevator.

This is happening.

Inside, he let go of her hand and took a step back. “Is it okay to go up to my room? I should’ve asked first.” He gave that earlier, uncertain smile, revealing a tiny dimple in his right cheek and lighter green bands surrounding his irises.

“That sounds perfect, Vance.” Lola’s mouth and throat went dry as he hit the button for the eleventh floor. For the first time in her life, she was going to say, “Yes.”  

About the Author:

Karen wanted to be an author and/or Wonder Woman when she grew up. One of those jobs was already taken, though. She lives with her husband, son, and six cats in Maryland, where she works as an English professor. Karen received her MA in literature and creative writing from Florida State University. When she isn't writing, she can often be found sitting at a friend's dining room table drinking wine and playing RPGs, hanging out at the local Indian restaurant with her bestie, or curled up in bed with a few cats, listening to the rain and either reading a book or watching a BBC mystery.

Website and blog: https://karenjanowsky.com

Newsletter Signup: https://subscribepage.io/GhxCTK

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B07QTB7FHS

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/karen-janowsky

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorkarenjanowsky/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100063337293596 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17253893.Karen_Janowsky

a Rafflecopter giveaway

[moonchildsaurora]

Darling, Dance for Me?

✤ sniper!San x female exotic dancer!reader ✤ genre: Mafia AU // 30% fluff, 60% spice, 10% platonic flirting with Woo  ✤ t/w: mentions of guns/shooting, mentions of alcohol, mature clubbing themes, highly suggestive in the second half (but not smut), rated M  ✤ count: 2k+

a/n - this was suppose to be for Valentine’s Day but, oh well! Enjoy some spice with one pink haired Sannie, coz we all know even though he looks soft. . . .he’s just a devil in disguise. This is probs my most suggestive writing till date as well, it was fun and am looking forward to writing more spice in the future hehet 💙

✛ play these vibes: BOBBY - ‘DeViL’, Sunmi - ‘Black Pearl’, Kai - ‘Mmmh’ ✛

“Mother told me, never to dance with the devil, So I danced for him instead.”

Cherry rouge.

Not your usual go-to, but a special occasion calls for some special exceptions. And damn did you look like fine wine tonight. Giving your styled curls another spritz of hair spray, you took one last inspection in your vanity mirror.  

Work was throwing a Valentine’s event and thus you found yourself having to dig through the back of your wardrobe to find a suitable outfit for tonight. Bold burgundy lace hugged tightly around your body replacing the mellower neutral tones you’d wear on any other night. Your roommate had even shoved a pair of thigh highs and heels on you to match the garter.

And cherry lips to bring the whole look together.

“You’ll thank me later! Hell everyone in the club would, for presenting god’s gift to them!”

You had laughed at her supportive enthusiasm, waving her away with embarrassment though you greatly appreciated the pre-shift hype.

When you headed for the kitchen, you could hear the TV in the lounge and glanced to see your roommate watching the evening news. She turned to call out for you but stopped mid-way upon realising you were already out of your room.

“Damn girl…you’ll sure be breaking hearts tonight with that fit!!” she yelled-gasped, brows waggling for a cheeky added effect.

“Well that’s no good. Dancers are supposed to be Cupids of the night, maybe they should’ve given me Aphrodite instead.”

A smile tugged on your lips as you saw your roommate falling back on the sofa snickering. Grabbing the bottle of Ten to One from what you both named ‘The Life Juice’ shelf, you started to fill your rose gold hip flask with the white rum. The debonair bartender at the club would usually be more than happy to concoct you a cup of much-needed poison to get you through the night. However, on such a busy event, you might not even have time to swing by the bar – so plan B was in order.

Also, whoever thought to invent garter pouches was a genius in your eyes. The amount of times you had snuck in a sip or two up on the podium without missing a beat or being noticed had to be one of your greatest feat till date.

Except maybe for the one who bought said pouch and flask for you. Seeing the shadow of their pleased smirk whenever you donned on something from them never failed to coax the goosebumps across your skin. Perhaps that garnet embellished choker would be the icing on the cake then. You made a mental note to put that on before you headed out.

“Hey honey…”

The tone of your roommate turned a little more serious.

“On the news just then, another one of those random sniper attacks happened along Soleil Street. Shit, that’s only two streets away from the club.”

The city has gotten used to such news every now and then. All leads of the serial sniper always went cold, not that they left behind any substantial traces for the authorities to begin with.

The law wasn’t the only ruling force in the area. Everyone knew that.

So long as one didn’t attract the wrong attention, they’d be free to go about their business.

“I’m dropping you off, are you ready to go?”

“Wait! It’s alright, I don’t want to trouble you.”

Your roommate gave you a look before swiping her car keys from the counter. “What would trouble me is not knowing whether you’ve made it to work and back safely. Now c’mon, the night is awaiting that cute booty of yours!”

“Yes mum.”

How lucky were you to have an angel for a roommate?

“Give me a heads up if you intend to bring anyone home tonight yeah? I’ll be sure to vacate the apartment before any sinning begins here.”

Or not.

A euphoric buzz filled every corner of the club tonight. Whether it was due to the special occasion or not, everyone was getting drunk off the atmosphere. The bar was a never-ending fountain of liquid luck and smoke veiled corners of the venue where patrons dealt cards and wits. A sea of bodies dominated the dancefloor, curling around one another in ecstasy as the thumping bass set the rhythm for them.

The centre podium was where the real magic unfurled.

Up on there, you felt powerful. Up on there, was your domain to rule.

Long have you enticed all those who returned back to ‘The Blue Butterfly’. So close, yet so far, for most could only have the visual satisfaction. Of watching you, along with your fellow dancers weave around golden poles and offer hands to those who sat in plush velvet chairs closest to the podium. Only to sashay away the last minute.

How bees are drawn to nectar and moths to light, the people keep coming back.

Tonight the club was decked out in a more sensual feel to fit the Valentine’s vibe. Long drapes of rose silk hung around the podium and you used those to accentuate the flow and movement of your body curves. The silks caressed the bare skin not hidden underneath your outfit and you pretended to take shy peeks around the fabrics at the audience. Sending a lucky wink or flying kiss their way.

In the middle of a mid-air twirl, you saw a familiar figure heading towards your side of the podium. You slowly lowered yourself back down to the floor, using your legs to wrap around the silks as leverage. Not missing the opportunity to be playful – you mimed shooting an arrow towards the club’s top croupier.

Wooyoung instantly clutched his heart with his hand that wasn’t occupied with holding one of Mingi’s own cocktail infusion. Letting out a hearty giggle, you slid over the podium floors to the edge where Wooyoung had propped himself up on.

“Don’t you look simply irresistible?” he crooned at you.

You could’ve said the exact same for him. All fitted to a tee in Givenchy with a classic choker that demanded attention for prominent collarbones.

“Now, how may I be of service to you tonight handsome?” you spoke over the music.

The youthful charmer leaned in towards you, shaking dark wavy strands out of his eyes. Eyeing his cotton candy pink drink, you ducked your head and took a few sips from the straw before Wooyoung drew it away. It tasted vaguely like pink lemonade with hints of vodka and vanilla.

“Ah ah, this isn’t for you poppet. Besides…” he tipped your chin back up with two fingers, “…wouldn’t want to waste your appetite before your main course tonight, would we?”

That made you perk right up.

“V.I.P Room Aurora has kindly requested for you. Drinks have already been sent up and the room’s been booked for the whole night.”

Not that booking was really needed since it was your room. It was just for formality.  

Wooyoung helped you off the podium and smoothly guided you through the crowd, placing you in front of him so as to avoid being grabbed by uninvited hands from behind. You both stopped at the foot of the polished glass stairs that led up to the V.I.P guest rooms.

“Off you go now! Oh and try not to make too much of a mess for our cleaners, they really ought to get a pay rise from some of the things they’ve witnessed in those rooms.”

You would’ve kicked Wooyoung for his brazen tongue, but you did well to remind yourself that would be rather impudent on your part. Whilst you have a jovial bond with him, it still doesn’t erase his high-standing status within the inner circle. You knew better than to cross that line of respect.

“Won’t make any promises I can’t keep, Jung!”

You left him with a soft pat on his cheek and ascended towards your utopia that awaited.

Swinging the golden embossed doors open, sultry melodious tune of a saxophone greeted you. Like molten dark chocolate, it was rich and tantalizing. The crystalline blue hue of the room’s lighting was fitting for the slow jazzy blues.

A spacious circular sofa curved around a glass table in the centre, providing a perfect view of the bejewelled podium. The wide one-way windows were especially designed for privacy. You could spectate over almost the whole club below, something you quite enjoyed during your breaks. The countless types of people that you observed stepping into your world; from the timid newcomers to the seasoned hedonists and the stories they brought with them of their journey to ‘The Blue Butterfly’.

But there was no time for that tonight. Not when you see broad sculptured shoulders that your hands have meticulously memorised the planes of – right in front of you.  

Still clad in his all-black incognito leather fit, you couldn’t help but stay by the door to appreciate his form. A huge bouquet of ivory and deep red roses sat on the glass table with an open box of what you suspected were chocolates inside. A loud pop of the champagne bottle went off. You bit your lips when you saw his toned arms flex as he gripped the bottle in one hand and tipped a stream of golden bubbles into two flute glasses in the other.

As the music picked up, you decided it was time to make your presence known. Walking with confident steps over the velveteen carpet you went to wrap your arms around his cinched waist. Resting your cheek on the cool leather vest of his back, you took his scent in.

Smoke and city musk lingered around.

You figured he must’ve come straight from his assignment. What better reason to use than to spoil him extra as post-work relaxation? His hand came up to wrap around yours and you felt the dancing of lips leaving petal kisses across your knuckles.

“You stink…” you mumbled lightly against his back.

San let out a low chuckle before setting the champagne bottle down and turning around to snake both arms around you. Calloused hands from the years of gripping guns instead of supple flesh imprinted their warm touch into your skin.

“Oh? Then I’m sure you won’t mind helping me freshen up, right Princess?”

“San!” you squealed when you felt him deliberately rub sweat against your neck before attacking it with more love bites.

“You taste like sweet temptation.”

You arched your neck out of habit when you felt his tongue swipe across it. Teeth bit down lightly around the garnet choker San bought for you for Christmas.

When you felt hands travelling down west towards your garter, you gave San a light shove backwards to the sofa.

“Not so fast, Choi.”

His predatory feline eyes took its time to rake down your body, committing every inch to memory. You made a show of bending over to grab the two champagne flutes off the table, the sharp intake of breath behind you made you preen with pride. You took your seat on your throne, not at all surprised to feel how much pent-up tension San had through the tight leather.

Clink. A toast made for the love of two.

“Happy Valentine’s, darling.”

“Thank you, San. You sure know how to spoil a lady don’t you?”

“Only the one who’s sniped right through my heart.”

Oh the irony.

You smiled when he pulled you close and claimed a proper kiss, whispering a, “You sap,” against his wind-chapped lips. Tasting the fruit acidity from the golden bubbles as you both exchanged kitten licks.

San’s rouge-stained lips chased after yours when you broke off from the kiss to place your champagne flute back down on the table. Hands anchoring your hips in place as you reached to pluck a couverture chocolate-covered strawberry from the box. Turning back round to San, your lips formed a small pout noticing that his freshly dyed hair was still hidden underneath his cap.

He let you discard it behind the sofa and you could’ve sworn he purred with satisfaction when you ran your hands through his cotton candy pink strands. Hands gave your bottom a firm squeeze and San begun to run his fingers along the hem of your lace. The husky vocals from the record player drifted back, interlacing with the saxophone.

That was your cue.

“Eyes on me.”

You held San’s gaze, fire reflecting fire. The strawberry gets slipped past the seams of his lips and all the while San chews intently, his eyes never wavered. He’s got his precious pearl all to himself, just the way he loves it. And you have the city’s most lethal hitman watching your back from dawn to dusk. San was the dangerous game you played, only to win the safest love.    

“Darling, won’t you please dance for me?”

“With pleasure, Sir.”

[noirineverysense]

Claw's detective agency - part three

Part two//Masterlist

It’s the interesting part of the day called ‘night’. The blanket of darkness that keeps criminals safe from the bright lights of the sun and cop cars.

It is thought that cities hide away at night but he would disagree, cities are alive most at night, when all the pleasantries have left and people are driven only by their base desires: sleep, sex and a need for a drink.

He lets out a puff of smoke, lowering his cigar as he watches it drift up and up. He lets the last of the day clients leave, a group of construction men with rough, drunk laughter and tottering steps. He walks into the bar, gesturing with two fingers up at the bartender to get his usual. He sits at the stool at the bar, and checks his watch. He’s two minutes early. He usually prefers five but Garrison’s new information had meant he hadn't kept track of time, instead losing himself in all the possible meanings that he could interpret from the evidence.

Of course, he was here to get lost too, planning to leave here with less of a sense of himself. Perhaps he’s always looking for ways to get lost, perhaps he spends all his time losing himself so that he doesn’t ever have to face himself and his past.

The door to the bar swings open as his shot of whisky is placed down in front of him. Claw checks his watch, 5 am exactly. In the reflection of the glass, he sees the man he’s here to meet. Tall with tan skin and scars slashing his face. He wore casual clothes, except with far too many belts wrapped around. You would think him imposing if it wasn’t for the large grin on his face.

“Claw, my old friend! Give him an extra shot on me, would you Donnie?”

The man’s too loud steps approach until he’s sat at the bar stool next to Claw. He puts a firm hand on his shoulder and Claw turns to him.

“Dragon. It’s been a while.”

“It sure has. How’ve you been? How’s that assistant of yours?”

“I’m the same as ever. Talon has been having a hard time of it as of late.”

Dragon’s brows furrow, genuine concern on his face. “Is that so? May I ask why that’s the case?”

Claw sighs, swirling the drink a little, watching the liquid slosh at the sides of the glass. “She found out I still have my memories. Because he returned.”

Dragon lets out a breath. “I see. Are you safe?”

Claw lets out a huff before tipping back the shot and enjoys the familiar burn down his throat, “He’s gone again, for now. I appreciate your concern though.”

“Of course. Can I ask then why you’ve asked to meet?”

Another shot is placed down in front of him. He glances between it and his company.

“Aren’t you going to order? I could get it for you? You like your rum, yes?”

Dragon lets out a laugh too loud for the question. “I’m not drinking. We’ve got a raid this morning, some officials are leaving central to go South. We’re going to interrupt the entourage.”

Claw frowns, “You’re not kidnapping anyone, are you?”

Dragon laughs again and some women in low cut, dark-coloured dresses turn to give side-eyes from a booth.

“No,” Dragon smiles, “We’re not kidnapping anyone. They’ve got some files we want. That’s all we’re taking.”

Claw swirls this glass too, “Have you or any of the rebels kidnapped an official in recent days? Do you know about anything of the sort?”

Dragon blinks, “No. We haven’t. Is that your case? You’ve gone up in the world my friend.” He laughs again.

Claw sighs and drinks his next shot, Dragon leans toward him with interest.

“Oh? Who is it? Tell me.”

Claw raises a brow, “Confidential.”

“Even from good old Dragon.”

“Especially from a rebel leader who would wish harm on the victim.”

“Aww come on. I’m not like that. Unless it’s-”

Claw stays silent as he gestures to the bartender for another shot. 

“You’re trying to save Pewtree, aren’t you?”

Claw turns to him and lets Dragon read his expression.

“Claw, why? Just leave the bastard. It’s better in the long run.”

“Would you say that to his wife?”

Dragon frowns, resting the side of his head on his tattooed fist, tattooed with a dragon of course.

“I didn’t even know he had a wife.”

Claw sighs, “Neither did I, until a few hours ago.”

“Well,” Dragon stands, pressing some cash on the counter, more than was necessary for Claw’s drink. “I need to be off. Planning to do.”

Claw tips his hat, “Good luck.” 

“I’d wish you the same except I don’t really want to see that bastard again. But it’s nice to see you, Claw. We’re both busy people but we should meet up again soon.”

“I get the feeling we will. But until then, farewell friend.”

Dragon answers with a salute. He moves from the bar, but instead of heading to the door, he walks up to the booth with the women talking amongst themselves. They stop talking and turn to the man standing at the end of the table.

“I hope I wasn’t bothering you girls.” He grins at them while they look between each other.

“Have a drink on me for your troubles!”

They cheer and start their orders that Dragon mimes taking down with a notepad. Claw shakes his head, a fond smile on his face as he downs his third shot.

Taglist: @winedark-whump @whumpworld @painful-pooch

[moral-turpitudes]

The Day-Shift:

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Light Harassment, Fighting, Drinking, Sex, Mentions of Blood, Gore, etc. **The italicized portion contains Explicit/18+ Content. If you are a minor, I suggest skipping over that part. Thank you.**

Word Count: 3,730

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Requested: Yes 

Requested by: Anon | Request can be seen Here |

Summary: Y/N is a nurse at the hospital Michael is recuperating at, and has been a nuisance ever since the ordeal with the Italians. After a particularly snarky encounter with the young blinder, Y/N warns Thomas of his cousins antics, who later asks her out for a drink to ease both their nerves, ending in a romantic night for the lead member and a possible new relationship to form.

“Will I be discharged soon? The Shelby’s need me back.” Michael asked, the gunshot wound still aching as he spoke.

“No.” Y/N said with an annoyed expression. Inspecting the wound as she put a new bandage over it, Michael wincing as she did so.

“Right, well I guess you’ll have to talk to Thomas then. Good luck Y/N.” Michael said, angrily pulling his shirt back on and leaning against the rough pillows on his hospital bed.

“It’s just our policy Michael. I’d hate to have a patient bleeding out on the floor. I just mopped.” She said, discarding the old bandages.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out aye?” He said, watching her with a frustrated look on his face. His nerves still reeling over the surprise visit from Luca Changretta shoving a gun in his face hours before.

He knew he had to get out, and soon if he wanted to help his mother and to try to mend things with the others, at least to some degree.

Down the hall at the reception desk, Thomas walked in, quickly removing his cap before stopping at the desk.

“Hello Mr. Shelby. Here to see Michael?” Y/N asked, finishing her report.

“Yes. Is he able to have visitors at the moment?” He asked.

“Yes, but I’d tread carefully. He’s a bit cranky today. Wasn’t very pleasant earlier...told me to not let the door hit me on my way out.” She said with a smirk, his blue gaze making her breath catch in her throat.

“Well, I’ll apologize on his behalf since he’s not man enough to. You’re just doing your job, love.” He said, a slight smirk forming on his face.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby.” She said.

“Call me Tommy.” He said, licking his lips before placing a cigarette in his mouth.

Y/N reached her hand out to stop him, the lighter unable to be flicked with her hand over it.

“No smoking in here, sorry Tommy.” She said, a stickler for the rules, at least when it came to her shifts at the hospital.

“If you say so.” He said, a small sigh escaping his lips before he put the lighter and cigarette back in his coat.

“Good luck, Tommy.” She said, a small smirk on her lips.

He nodded before reluctantly walking to the room, not bothering to knock on the door.

“What’re you doing here Tommy.” Michael stated, still frustrated.

“Just checking on ya. You’ve been giving the nurse a hard time aye?” He said, a cold look in his eyes as he remembered Michael’s wrong-doings before the Italians shot him.

“Just asked her if I could go home, she said no of course. Said she didn’t want a patient bleeding out cuz she just mopped. Stupid really.” He said, sneaking a cigarette from under his pillow.

“You can’t have that right now Michael. At least not until you’re healed more.” He said.

“Oh fuck off Tom. I can do what I want in here. What...did she tell you there’s no smoking?” He asked.

“Aye she did. She’s just following protocol.” He said.

“I don’t care. Just leave me will ya? I can deal with her later.” He said, lighting the cigarette.

Thomas sighed in frustration at the young man, unable to understand why except that he was tired of being cooped up in the small, white room.

“I’ll have your mother come by later. I suggest you show the woman who helped save you some respect.” He said, walking out of the room.

“I told ya. He’s been one hell of a patient aye?” Y/N asked, closing the medical book on her desk.

“Mhmm. Say, have you seen anyone in here besides me today?” He asked.

“No, I started my shift only and hour ago.” She said.

“How long does it go till?” He asked.

“Uhm, ‘round five hours. Won’t be out till at least six if all the patients fucking behave.” She said.

“That’s a new one, I’ve seen ya every day for the two weeks and you’re cussing now. Blinders are rubbing off on ya.” He said.

“I knew that’s what it was. It’s contagious.” She said, chuckling slightly.

“Well how about I pick you up ‘round then aye? I can take you for a drink. I think you’ve earned it after dealing with my fucking cousin of all people.” He said.

“You’re joking...” She said, never thinking Thomas Shelby would ever ask her - a day-shift nurse - out for a drink.

“Am I’m laughing?” He asked, a small smirk on his face.

Y/N looked at the clock nearby, the hands ticking down ever so slowly.

“I’d love to. I’ll be counting down the hours.” She said, grinning.

“Alright. I’ll see you then, miss.” He said.

“Aye Tommy?” She called out before he walked off too far.

“Call me Y/N.” She said.

“Right...I’ll see you later miss Y/N.” He said, making it a point to pull out a cigarette and lighting it just as he walked out the door, leaving Y/N chuckling to herself.

The hours dragged on, Y/N dealing with one rude patient after another. One screaming at her and one getting blood all over her uniform during a grueling emergency surgery.

“Jesus. You’ve been through hell aye?” A voice sounded from the hallway as Y/N neared her desk for the last time that night.

“Oh! Uh...hi Tommy. Fucking startled me ya know.” She said, swiping a strand of hair out of her face as she gathered her things.

“I’m going to get out of all this mess and then I’ll be ready to go. You can wait in the lobby if you’d like.” She said, looking at the gangster leaning against the wall, staring at Michael’s door with an empty expression.

“Alright.” He said, walking out to the old rickety chairs outside the main reception area.

She scurried to the nurses changing room and put on the only clothes she had, a black dress and cardigan with worn, black heels.

She washed the dried blood off her hands and face and hastily applied a small amount of lipstick, eyeliner, and mascara, nothing too extravagant given her circumstances.

With a nervous sigh, she looked in the mirror one last time, wrestling with her hair a bit to make it at least somewhat presentable for wherever he was taking her.

“That wasn’t long. You look great, Y/N.” He said, putting down a random book that was sitting on one of the old side tables.

“Thank you! I uh, didn’t have much to work with back there but it’s better than being covered in blood aye?” She said, wrapping her coat tightly around her as she braced for the cold night air that was sure to slither its way through their bones.

“Aye, I guess that’s true.” He said, thinking about how he’d shown up to numerous places covered in blood, not really taking it into account before.

“So, Tommy Shelby. Where in the world are we going?” She asked, looking at him. The streetlights shooting by as he drove down the many dark streets of Birmingham.

“Well, there’s not many I like going to except for the Garrison. You heard of it?” He asked.

“Yeah, been a couple times with friends. It’s fun...most times.” She said, cringing at past drunk memories.

Thomas looked at her as the smirk spread across her features, her eyes wrinkling with the movement as they continued their drive to the pub.

“Here we are.” He said, getting out and quickly helping her down from the tall, black car. The metal hood shining in the moonlight as the noise from the pub made its way through the streets.

The noise grew as they walked in, the smell of booze filling the air as they made their way to the bar.

“Hiya Mr. Shelby. What can I get for you and the lucky lady?” The bartender asked cheerfully.

“The usual for me. What about you love?” He asked, her mind racing with trying to decide on something.

“I’ll just have what he’s having? And a gin please.” She said.

“You like whiskey?” He asked with a smirk.

“Yeah. Only drink it on bad nights usually. Takes the pain away.” She said.

“Pain of what?” He asked as the bartender sat a whole bottle down along with two shot glasses and her gin.

Tommy nodded at the bartender as she spoke.

“A lot of things. I see a lot of people in bad shape all time. Kind of haunts ya you know? And dealing with patients like your cousin aren’t much better. Pain in my ass really.” She said, chuckling and taking a nervous sip of her gin.

“Aye, that he is. I told him to lay off though. You helped save him after all. It’s the least he could do.” He said, pouring them both a shot.

“So are we splitting the bill or? I don’t mind.” She said.

“Nah, I get the drinks for free. That includes yours.” He said.

“Oh...” she said, taking a swig of her gin again, the clear liquid burning like fire on the way down.

“I make gin.” He said, changing the subject.

“Oh really? Is it good?” She asked.

“Personally I think it is, some people prefer it...not as sweet though. What do you think of it?” He asked.

“Wait, this is yours?” She asked, downing the last of it slowly, trying to form a decent opinion as it burned down her throat.

“Hmm, well...” she said, turning her nose up, jokingly.

“I’m kidding. You should’ve seen your face, love...It’s good though. I don’t think it’s too sweet...It’s just right.” She said, looking up at him as he downed his now third shot.

“You drinking that whole bottle?” She asked.

He shook his head and lit a cigarette, pouring her another after she downed the first one.

“Not unless you help me. Maybe then I’ll make it back to the house.” He said.

“You live ‘round here?” She asked.

“Not anymore. Up at Arrow House.” He said, blowing a puff of smoke away from her.

“Jesus. I don’t want to know what that cost, but I’m sure you and your blinders could afford those things. Is it nice?” She asked, slightly regretting the rapid pace she downed the shots in.

“It’s grand. More so in the sense it’s empty. Lots of rooms with no life in them really. My son Charlie’s there but that’s it besides the nanny and the maids.” He said.

“You have a whole crew then. I’m impressed.” She said.

“Would you like to go there?” He asked.

“Sure. But...” she said, pouring herself a shot of the whiskey.

“Let’s finish this first, can’t let a good thing go to waste aye?” She said, knocking back a shot. Her head slowly turning fuzzy as she hadn’t drank in a few months.

As she put the bottle down, a drunken man came up behind her suddenly, an ugly smile on his face as he grasped at her bum.

She quickly turned around, backing up towards Tommy.

“Get your fucking hands off me you bastard! Go on, go!” She yelled, shoving the already unstable man until he stumbled back. The liquor slowly getting to her as she watched the scene unfold.

Thomas moved her behind him as she watched him unbutton his sleeves, the act causing her to bite her lip curiously as she watched his posture change. The drunken man getting up and slurring his words in a drunken rage as he went to punch him. Tommy blocked the shaky punch and landed one on the mans nose as he stumbled back, blood erupting from the mans nose and also from Tommy’s hands from the sharp impact. The man, with practically more booze than blood in his system came at him again, this time landing a hit to his cheek causing a gash to form. As the brawl ensued, she watched tipsily as a crowd gathered around them both, egging on the blinder who practically owned half of Birmingham at that point.

“You bastard! You broke me nose!” The man yelled, finally noticing the damage done.

“Yeah well you touched my girl so I’d say we’re even. Now go on before I kill ya.” He said in a low voice, his cheek bleeding as he spoke.

“Y-you’ll pay for this. I swear it!” The man said angrily as he pushed his way through the pub and out the door, nearly stumbling as he walked onto the cold cobblestone streets.

“You alright Y/N?” Thomas asked as he turned around, wiping the blood on a towel the bartender already had ready for him.

“I-I’m fine.” She said, going back to the bar and pouring herself another shot, her nerves finally calming down after wanting to beat the man up herself, knowing she could have if only she’d tried harder.

“I think he had concrete for a nose.” He said, she could see the way his skin spilt around his worn knuckles, the blood snaking it’s way down his arm as he clutched the bottle of whiskey.

“Sorry you had to see that.” He said, knocking a shot back and then pulling out another cigarette, a frustrated sigh coming from his lips as the flames from the lighter ignited the thin roll of paper.

“Don’t be sorry. You did a good thing. I’m just mad I couldn’t punch him myself.” She said smirking, trying to lighten the mood as the atmosphere around them returned to normal.

He smirked at that, causing the blood to trickle down his face more as she watched.

“Here. This’ll hurt but it’ll help for now.” She said, turning the bottle neck-down so some it would pour onto the towel. As she leaned in to dab it on his cut cheek, his eyes scanned her face. She was halfway focused due to the alcohol in her system but still more calm than others in the past. He tried not to wince as she applied light pressure, not wanting to hurt him.

“How about we finish this bottle and head out?” He asked.

“Sounds like a plan.” She said, clinking her shot glass with his after setting the bloody towel down.

They both drank until the bottle ran dry, Y/N’s head feeling light and slightly like it was spinning as she made her way to the car. Thomas on the other hand seemed a bit less un-phased, having drunken more in that one week than she had in months.

“Did...did I say thank you? I really should’ve said thank you. That was brave. You just....cracked him right in the nose.” She said drunkenly as she made a punching gesture with her fist.

Thomas chuckled as he drove them to his house, the cool night air slowly sobering them up as they set out for the seemingly long drive to the large manor in the countryside.

“Tommy?” She asked, her eyes landing on him as the moonlight shined through the windows of the car, only his silhouette visible as he spoke.

“Yeah love?”

“Out of all the women...why me? Why’d you decide to go out with a nurse?” She said, laughing at herself slightly. The world slowly not spinning as much as they neared the house.

Thomas was silent for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully since he’d been so reckless with past suitors. He couldn’t stand another heartbreak and so he decided to think a bit more cautiously, for once.

Tommy sighed as he pulled up to the manor, his door creaking as he closed it and helped her out.

“I just happen to like you. You seem...kind. At least when a drunk isn’t trying to put the moves on ya” He said, leading her into the house, the rooms eerily empty as everyone was asleep.

“I see. Well Tommy, if it’s any consolation, I uh may just happen to like you as well. I don’t really care about what they say you know.” She said, fiddling with the buttons on her coat as he helped her take it off.

“And what do they say, Y/N?” He asked, his hand going to hers as he led her around the house quietly.

“They say you’re a drug dealing gangster who kills for fun.” She said smirking.

“They’re only half right, love.” He said, stopping just outside his bedroom.

“How so?” She asked, looking into his eyes in the dimly lit hall.

“I kill for business. Not for fun.” He said, gently caressing her cheek before he brought his lips to hers.

She broke away after a moment, looking at the cut on his cheek.

“I don’t want to hurt you, you need stitches you know.” She said, smirking up at him.

He sighed and led her into the grand bedroom, the luxurious bathroom located just near the room as they walked towards it.

Thomas turned on the light, illuminating the space as he rummaged around for alcohol and his small sewing kit, which saved him more often than not.

“I usually do this myself but I’m sure you’re better at this love.” He said, sitting on the counter as she stood between his legs, expertly threading the needle as she inspected it.

“This is going to hurt, I’m just being honest with you.” She said, forgoing her usual bedside manners.

“Can’t be worse than what I’ve done to myself aye? You won’t leave a huge scar like I would.” He said, looking at her as she started her work. The needle stinging as she quickly stitched him up.

“Scar a handsome face like yours? I could never.” She said, with a smirk as she tied off the stitch and clipped it, dabbing a bit of the alcohol on it to clean it once more. Before he could move, she took his hand gently in hers, dabbing the blood off his hand and running the alcohol over his knuckles as he sat there, a hiss of pain escaping his mouth at the unexpected burn.

“That was worse.” He said.

“I know. It’s never fun treating busted knuckles. I’d suggest maybe not punching anyone in the next couple of days...if you can manage.” She said, bandaging them up.

“For you, I’ll try not to. Now...” He trailed off, his eyes roaming over her.

“What?” She asked, looking at him as she caught him staring.

“Where were we?” He asked, his hand gently holding hers as she stood closer.

**Explicit/18+ Content Ahead. Please skip over the italicized portion if you are under 18, thank you!**

“Oh....right...” she said smirking, bringing her lips gently to his as his hands found their way to her hips, pulling her towards him. Their kiss grew heated as more time passed, his hand stinging as he snaked it through her hair, bringing her closer to him as he broke from her lips and sucked light bruises onto her neck, eliciting a soft moan from her lips.

Their hands wandered over each other, pulling at what clothing remained between them as Thomas led her to the bed. Her smooth skin feeling like silk under his rough fingertips.

Y/N giggled as he laid her on the bed, kissing his way down her neck and chest until he got to her core. His head resting perfectly between her legs as he devoured her, the feeling indescribable as she clutched the expensive sheets beneath her. Her insides soon turning to a knot as she felt her orgasm coming on, her hands finding their way to his head as she grasped his hair tightly, feeling her hips grinding on him as he brought her over the edge, her moans filling the room as she came undone on his lips. As he lifted his head up, he hovered over her, kissing his way up to her lips as she tasted herself on him. Slowly urging her hand down to take hold of him, already hard and yearning to be inside her.

“You sure?” He asked, a low moan escaping his lips as she pumped him. With a quick nod she aligned him with her entrance, wanting nothing more than to close the gap between them. She gasped lightly at the sensation, the pressure of him filling her up as he began thrusting his hips into her. The familiar feeling washing over her again minutes later, tightening around him as she moaned his name. The dim lighting making it harder to see as they continued, making the sensation all the more heightened as his thrusts quickened, and a low moan came from his lips again.

In a swift movement, he let her get on top, riding him as he watched from under her. Her hands scratching down his chest as her body tensed around him, grinding herself down harder and faster as she came once more. Her scratches leaving slight red streaks down his chest as she came down from her high.

Thomas sat up slightly as she rode him slowly once more, his hips meeting hers as she bounced on his cock. His breathing a bit ragged as he came closer. His thrusts getting slower with every minute. As she came close once more, Thomas let out a moan as he came undone, pulling her closer to him as he did so, her walls clenching around him as she moaned in his ear. Their breathing both leveling out as they lied next to each other, sleep finally invading their bones as they lay tangled in each other’s embrace.

“You don’t want me to leave do you?” She asked after a while, stealing Thomas’ cigarette from his mouth as she took a drag from it.

“I’d quite like it if ya stayed actually. Why? Do you want to?” He asked, watching the smoke escape her lips.

“No, I just thought you’d want me to. Didn’t think you’d want anything more after this.” She said.

“What if I do want something more aye?” He asked.

She smiled and thought for a moment before kissing him.

“Then you’ll have to be more careful Tommy Shelby. Can’t have you being hurt everyday. The hospital is full as it is.” She said.

Thomas chuckled as he looked down at her, her eyes lighting up at his smile.

“I’ll try, but I’m not making any promises.” He said, kissing her once more before they decided to go to bed for the night, the hope for a new relationship ever so looming on the horizon.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx,

@lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore​, @xxbeckybeexx-blog​

If you’d like to be added/removed, just send me an ask/message! :)

[layniapetrovnaaa]

Hank Palmer Imagine

I wrote this fic about two years ago, so bear with me. I just felt bad about not writing much, so I hope this will suffice for some of you.

Warnings: smoking, swearing?, infidelity, age-gap, bad writing and self-projecting lol

***

"Dry martini with a twist please." I announce to the bartender as I slide into an open seat in the crowded bar.

I take the package of cigarettes out of my pocket and shake it, one falls out. I light it up and take a slow drag, listening to the faint sound of 90s r&b in the background of all the slurred words filling the tavern.

The smoke from the cigarette surrounds me, and I can't help but close my eyes and hang my head a bit low.

I would have stayed in my thoughts a little longer if it hadn't been for the bartender setting down my drink in front of me.

I take a sip. Take a puff. And then the man on my right starts talking to me. "Wouldn't have pegged you for a martini girl." I turn and look at him.

He look quite a bit older than me, but quite handsome.

He had a little scruff on his jaw,it looked like salt and pepper. His hair was cut short and styled to perfection. He is dressed in a white button down, and a black suit and tie. And he has deep and rich brown eyes.

Brown eyes are just brown eyes unit you love someone with brown eyes; that's what my mother always used to say.

I know his type, hot shot lawyer I bet. "Yeah, well, I've never been the most conventional girl."

"I can tell."

"How?"

"Your voice"

I clear my throat.

It's true, my voice was lower than most of the women I know. I always got teased about it when I was younger, but as I got older all the men seemed to like it; it was 'sensual'.

I take a sip of the liquid and another drag of the cancer stick, it's quiet for a moment.

"Y'know the drink you order says a lot about you also."

Another puff.

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Another sip.

"Well, you ordered a martini, you're old fashioned."

He gives me a once over, and continues.

"You ordered it dry, you're stressed, work has been taking a toll. But, you're sophisticated and you can hold your liquor well. You probably watch a lot of  old movies don't you?" Coincidence.

"You ordered your drink with a twist, you're neat, clean, classy."

I can only stare into the half empty martini glass.

"And you like to be fancy, it's a distraction from your childhood which was quite the opposite; that's why you moved to the city."

How did he-

I look up at this man in wonder, and can't help but whisper a quiet "Damn."

"What's your name?"

I give it to him, and he returns it with his own. "Hank Palmer"

"Has anyone ever told you that you are very good at this game?" Another sip. Another drag.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have very sensual lips?"

"Really? A movie quote to try and seduce me? I think we can do a little better then that, can’t we, Mr.Palmer?" I tease. He only chuckles.

"You a fan?"

"One of my favorites actually."

"So the thing about the old movies is wrong?"

"No."

He nods and takes a sip of his scotch, I presume.

"Let me do you."

"Excuse me?"

He raises an eyebrow at me and snacks on the almonds in the bowl next to his glass. "Let me read your beads Hank." I smirk, then bite my lip as I continue to observe him

"Fine." He gives in, a small smirk also playing in his lips.

I gulp down the rest of my drink, and study him.

"Mmm...well, for starters your married."

He looks shocked.

"You forgot to take your ring off."

He clears his throat in a bit of embarrassment.

"That being said, you probably have a child, only one. You don't seem like the type to have lots of kids."

He squints a little, and puts a finger over his lips like he is thinking hard.

I take a drag of the cig and think for a moment.

"Scotch?"

He nods, and so do I. "Well then...you're cocky. It's little over the top, but well deserved, your great at your job." He smirks a little and waits for me to continue.

"Lawyer?"

He nods as he takes another sip of the liquor.

"You're a bit of an alcoholic, aren't you?"

He gulps the rest of the drink down and doesn't look at me.

"I mean you keep it together, but you have at least three big ones every night." I can't help but giggle a bit, but it stops almost as soon as it came. I finished off the cigarette. He finally faces me and gives me a once over. The once crowded bar was now almost empty, time flies I guess.

"Oh I'm good." I grin. "How old are you?" He asks, still serious, crunching down on the last of the almonds. "23. You?" "49." 

He's seems a bit cautious saying that number, but when he sees it doesn't affect me, he continues.

"Would you maybe want to come back to my place?" His voice sounds huskier than before.

"Is your wife gunna be there?"  I can't help but giggle. He's not amused, and rolls his eyes.

"I'm joking!"

I bite my lip, now serious, I answer him. "Yes."

[extraordinarilyfadedmemories]

Shenanigans

Cordelia x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol and Cannabis consumption (if you consider that a warning)

Let me know what you think 💕 For real feedback is appreciated!

Tag List: @scarlspookyszn​

[if you would like to be added to my tag list for future fics, let me know]

It was almost 10 PM on a Friday night at Miss Robichauxs Academy and that meant that the work could end and the fun would begin. Madison was off getting some type of liquor and Mallory was picking out a movie.  You were sitting on the couch with Coco, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, when you heard Misty singing her way through the corridor to some Fleetwood Mac song. “Funny or scary?” Mallory asked while scrolling through the movies on the TV. Misty spoke up right away, “Funny!  The last scary movie y’all picked kept me up for weeks!”  Mallory just chuckled and replied, “Funny it is.”  As Misty settled into her chair, Zoe walked up behind the couch and handed you and Coco some chips before speaking, “Has anyone seen Cordelia?  The greenhouse was empty.” After dinner, Cordelia had disappeared, which wasn’t unlike her.  She didn’t like participating in our “weekend shenanigans” as she liked to call it. She would usually lock herself in the greenhouse to focus on her work, even after we all stumbled to bed.  “The bedroom door was cracked and her light was on when I was coming down.  Maybe she’s calling it an early night.” Misty said shrugging as Zoe nodded and started back toward the kitchen. The next few minutes were filled with mindless chatter and laughing while we decided on a movie.  Hearing the sound of the front door opening let us know that Madison was back, but the sound of giggling indicated that someone else was with her.

You stood up and turned around to see who it was before you heard that sweet familiar voice. It was Cordelia. You followed them into the kitchen with the other girls close behind. “Well this is a sight to see.” Coco was the first to speak up. “Yeah. I never would’a thought you’d be hanging around with Madison now, Ms. Cordelia.” Misty chimed in. Cordelia just chuckled as she slurred, “It’s been a long week and I figured I would join in on your shenanigans, but Madison just insisted that we get some shots at the bar across from the corner store.” Madison couldn’t hold back her laughter, “She talked such a good game that the bartender gave us free shots! Poor thing tried so hard to get Cordy’s number.” The girls were all laughing, but something about that made you burn up inside.  The thought of some sleezy bartender hitting on Cordelia made you uneasy. She wasn’t yours to claim, but you had feelings for her, and it hurt to think that one day someone could come and sweep her off her feet. An elbow to your side pulled you out of your thoughts as you looked over to see Coco staring at you. “You okay, Y/N?” she whispered, low enough so that no one could here over the multiple conversations going on.  “Yes of course.” you replied, putting on a smile and trying to catch up on what was going on. Madison has 7 shots of Tequila lined up on the counter, one for each of us. “Alright bitches.” Madison said as she motioned for everyone to grab a shot. “Since our dear Supreme has decided to join us tonight, I say we dedicate this first shot to the stick that finally came out of her ass.”  She continued while holding her shot glass in the air, earning her a playful punch in the arm from a rather tipsy Cordelia. Coco was the next to follow Madison, “Well. To Ms Supreme!” she yelled, causing us all to yell and follow suit. As you swallowed back the burning liquid, you couldn’t help but gaze over at Cordelia doing the same.  The way her blonde hair was flowing freely around her face, and her eyes held a hint of joy, instead of their usual emptiness.  She looked happy, and seeing her happy made you happy. As the girls made their way to the living room, Coco grabbed your arm and pulled you in the opposite direction. "What are you doing?" you asked. Coco just smirked and reached into her pocket, pulling out a joint and a lighter as she continued to the back door. "Oh." was all you could say as you followed right behind her.

"I didn't plan on Delia being up, but I've been holding on to this for a few days now, and I want to smoke it." Coco said as she lit one end of the joint. "You know I'm not complaining." you said taking the joint from her hand to take a few hits before handing it back. "So what happened in the kitchen?  Everything okay?"  You enjoyed having Coco around.  She understood you more than any of the other girls, and she knew that you had a little crush on your Supreme. "It was nothing, honestly." Coco went to say something, but the sound of loud music turning on inside startled the both of you. You rolled your eyes and handed the joint back, as you opened the door and went back in to see what was going on.  As you approach the living room, you see that the movie has been completely ignored and the girls were dancing, apart from Cordelia, who was fixated on Madison doing a body shot off of Mallory with rosy cheeks. Zoe looked over at you and motioned for you to join her and Misty. Coco walked right past you and starting dancing to the electronic beat playing over the speaker. You followed behind wondering what alternate universe you had walked into. Madison, who was pouring shots, made her way over to you, Coco, and Zoe. "You can do two shots right now, or do a body shot.  It's not a party without body shots!" Zoe held up two fingers, and you were about to do the same when Cordelia walked up. "I am having so much fun! I want to try this 'body shot' I have never done one before." she said forming air quotes around the words. Madison smirked as she spoke, "Alright well partner up, bitches. We're doing body shots!"

Of course Coco immediately turned to Zoe, while Madison poured Zoe a shot.  Zoe smiled nervously when she finished her second shot, then she tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck. Coco sprinkled some salt on Zoe's exposed skin and grabbed a lime from the coffee table as Madison handed her the shot glass. She licked the salt, then threw back the shot, and sucked on the lime.  They both laughed as they turned towards you and Cordelia. A blush rose on your cheeks as Madison handed you the shot glass. You could feel your heart beating fast, and you were sure your knees were going to give out at any second. You looked up and brown eyes met yours as Cordelia smiled. "Are you sure about this, Delia?" you asked, making sure that she was comfortable with what was about to happen. "Yes! Come on Y/N, let's have a little fun." She replied as she tilted her head. All the girls cheered and began chanting "shot!  shot!", so you put a little salt on the crook of Cordelia's neck as Coco handed you a lime. "Have fun." she whispered with a smirk.  That dirty little bitch knew exactly was she did. You could feel the high setting in as the alcohol began to take over your thoughts. The closer you got to your Supreme, the more light-headed you became. Better go ahead and get it over with, you thought, as you brought your tongue to the thin line of salt on Cordelia's skin. Without hesitation, you closed your lips around her pale skin and sucked lightly, not being able to control your body for a moment. You could've swore you heard a soft moan, but everything was spinning and your thoughts weren't too clear. Your cheeks grew red as you took your shot and sucked the lime, trying hard to avoid everyone in front of you. Madison quickly took a shot before pouring another and handing it to Cordelia, who took it rather quickly. "Okay, so I lick the salt, then take the shot, then the lime." Cordelia said to herself, but quickly laughed it off as she continued. I tilted my head and waited as she grabbed some salt. You made the mistake of looking into her eyes, and you know you saw a look of hunger, causing your insides to burn with excitement. She smirked at you as she quickly brought her lips to your skin and mimicked exactly what you did, sucking on my exposed flesh, and this time you know for sure you heard her moan. "Get a room you two!" Madison yelled, which caused your cheeks to heat up again. Cordelia laughed as she took her shot, then wrapped her lips around the lime, making direct eye contact with you as she began to suck at it. You looked away and turned to Coco who was dancing with Mallory, Misty, and Zoe. She reached her hand out to you, and pulled you closer to them as you all began dancing while your thoughts completely drifted away.

Four hours and three and half empty bottles of Tequila later, and all of you were telling stories and laughing together drunkingly. Misty and Coco were the first to excuse themselves, and Mallory wasn't too far behind. "Well I guess I'm going to call it a night, too. I'm gonna feel like shit in the morning." You all laughed seeing the well mannered supreme cuss in front of you. Cordelia went to stand from the couch and fell back down. "Fuck, I don't think I can make it to my room."  Cordelia sighed causing everyone, even herself, to laugh even more. I stood up with Zoe and we offered out arms to help steady the supreme, which she happily accepted. "Thank you so much girls, I had a wonderful time and I really needed this." Cordelia said as you helped guide her to her room. When we got to the door in front of her room, Cordelia let go of Zoe's arm and turned to you. "Will you please stay with me? I really don't want to sleep alone tonight, Y/N." You shot a glance at Zoe who was already walking away from you two. "Delia you're drunk. I don't think that is the best idea." Dragging you with her, Cordelia stumbled into her bedroom and closed the door behind her. "Come on, Y/N. You practically gave me a hickey in the living room earlier. Stay with me, please. We can talk in the morning, but please just come lay next to me." She had climbed in bed, and was waiting for you to do or say anything. Without a word, you climbed into the bed, and positioned yourself so you both were laying face to face. "It was a pleasure to do my first body shot with you." She said while smiling, breaking the awkward silence that was lingering in the room. She had a soft look in her eyes, her usual dark eyes shining a soft brown with the reflection of the dim light on the night table. You wanted to lean forward and connect your lips with hers, and feel her soft skin pressed up against yours, but, instead, you just chuckled, turned over, and mumbled a "Goodnight, Delia."  She moved closer to you and wrapped her arms around your stomach, making herself the big spoon as she brought her lips close to your ear. "Goodnight my sweet Y/N. I love you."  The butterflies in your stomach kicked into overdrive and you felt like your heart was going to explode. You were both going to feel like complete hell in the morning.

[hufflepuffhollander]

spin the bottle: a tom holland imagine

a/n | this is long but it’s so worth it! it was fun to write so it has to be fun to read, right? (right???) *also thinking about starting up a tag list, message me if you want to be included!*

summary: An uneventful party takes a turn when you get dragged into a kissing game with a hot stranger. (the gif will make sense, trust me)

tom x fem reader | contains alcohol use, language, and lotsa kisses | word count: 1.7k lol | enjoy!

You smoothed down your hair with one final run through with your fingers before your best friend reached over to shove your car mirror shut, saying firmly, “You look fine. Stop being so paranoid! It’s just a party.”

Yes, you thought, but you didn’t know anybody at this party, just your friend-  and she had just barely convinced you to go by the time it was starting.

“There’s just this one bump I can’t get to go down,” you grumbled, reluctantly getting out of the car and pulling your dress down to cover more of your thighs. You walked into the house with your friend, smiling blankly at strangers as she floated through friendly faces, giving hugs, and you beelined straight to the drink table. There was a smattering of room temperature seltzers, mostly empty handles of liquor, and some sad looking pints of juice and soda to choose from. How exciting. Your expression at the disappointing array must’ve been more noticeable on your face than you realized, because a guy came up from behind you, shaking you from your thoughts.

“Takes you back to uni, huh?” he said, reaching for a red solo cup, hesitating, and then grabbing another, stretching it in your direction.

“There’s nothing quite like lukewarm alcohol,” you joke, only then looking up at the voice, choking back spit as you took in the beautiful boy’s features, a baby face somehow mature and insanely attractive, his prominent jawbone clenching and relaxing as it moved to speak.

“Can I suggest something? I have a secret recipe that always kills.” he smiled, reaching to take the empty cup back from your hands. You hesitantly let go, curiosity getting the best of your judgement. You watched intently as he went to the kitchen, filled the cup with ice, and came back with a packet of kool-aid powder in his hand. You frowned.

“Hey,” he said, smirking. “Don’t you trust me?” “I just met you.” “Well, trust in the process.” 

He started expertly picking up liquors and mixers, seeming to know the perfect measurements, looking like a chemist in his lab. You couldn’t help but stand in delighted shock at watching the artist work.

“Alright,” he said, handing you the cup, now full of a bright red liquid. “Close your eyes and try it.”

You took the cup, your fingers brushing his, and you felt your nerves awaken. You closed your eyes lightly and brought the cup to your lips, letting the cool liquid slip down your throat. It was...delicious. You opened your eyes and he smiled at your clear reaction.

“How did you manage to pull that out of the world’s most miserable array of drinks??” you asked, taking another generous sip.

He just chuckled, stuck his hand out and said, “I’m Tom.”

“y/n.” you said back, shaking his hand, nerves piping up again. He gave you one last smile, wiped his hands on his jeans, and walked away. You watched him leave and felt a twinge of disappointment that your brief interaction had come to an end. Your friend came out of the noise, putting a hand on your shoulder and looking at your cup.

“Where in the hell did you find that? All I’ve gotten is flat lime seltzer, which is obviously the worst one,” she groaned, glancing at the disgrace of a booze display.

“Bartender made it,” you said smirking, left in Tom’s invisible trail, taking a sip of your drink and floating away to another side of the room. Your friend looked after you, puzzled. “Where the fuck is there a bartender?” 

Later, after having a handful of meaningless conversations with forgettable people, you had made eye contact with Tom too many times to count and couldn’t stop thinking about him. You wanted to go up and talk to him, but you couldn’t work up the nerve. If he was as interested as his eyes told you, why couldn’t he just make the first move?

Your friend found you, taking your hand and bringing you into a smaller adjacent room, full of fruity smelling vape smoke and a few less people. “What are we doing in someone’s office?” you asked.

“Spin the bottle!” your friend grinned at you.

“Seriously? I haven’t played that since middle school, and nobody was ever bold enough to actually kiss anybody anyway,” you sighed. Honestly, you would’ve been happy to play- but Tom was nowhere to be found, and nobody else in the forming circle on the floor seemed worth your time. Your friend saw you hesitate to sit down. 

“Ugh, come on, y/n, you’re suddenly not up for making out with strangers?” she poked at you like you had a long-standing habit of doing just that. You shrugged, wishing you had stayed home. Your drink was long gone along with your interest in this party.

“Jesus, tough crowd,” your friend muttered. “Hold on.” she left the room, and you stood awkwardly in the corner, pretending to be interested in a boring painting on the wall.

She came back in, followed by a boy in a baseball hat, Tom trailing meagerly behind. You both made eye contact, making the same realization at the same time: you were suddenly very interested in playing spin the bottle. Your friend caught your eye and winked, mouthing ‘you owe me one’.

12 or so people sat in a tightly packed group, some a little buzzed, some completely faded. The girl next to you fidgets as you feel someone hover over you. “I’m gonna- just...squeeze in here-“ Tom shoves his way into the circle and sits down next to you, both of you looking straight ahead, smiling and silently acknowledging each other.

“You looked thirsty,” he says keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead, handing over a new red cup filled with the same magical liquid as before. You graciously accepted it and nudged your elbow into his. “Thanks.”

Someone put on a grungy party playlist and the game began. The boy in the baseball cap spun the bottle in the middle and kissed the girl Tom had taken the place of. Your friend ended up kissing a girl with sleek black hair and too much eye makeup, but didn’t seem to mind. Then came Tom’s turn, and he glanced at you, back to the glass bottle, and gave it a spin. It felt like an hour went by as it rotated around the group, eventually coming to a slow halt...and your vodka-soaked heart fell a few inches in your chest. It was pointing directly at a girl across the circle, smile shining brightly at her newly decided fate. She was objectively pretty, hair tied up in a ponytail with bright blue eyes. Tom cleared his throat, and she began to fuss with the hem of her skirt as she leaned slightly forward towards him. You brought your drink up to your mouth so you could focus on something, anything, other than Tom about to lock lips with the girl across from you.

But a hand pulled your cup away, and you turned to notice it just as you felt two hands cup your face, arms attached to Tom, who turned his whole body to face you. This all happened in an instant, and suddenly he pulled you into a heavy kiss as your eyes fluttered shut. You heard the girl grunt as she sat back down, but it was just background noise now- all you could focus on was the kiss you were currently melting into, Tom’s palms searing into your cheeks. You moved closer to him, wrapping both arms around his neck and kissed him back even harder. You only noticed it had been too long when someone lowly muttered “Guys, come on.”

You pulled away and remembered that there were still other people in the room.

Tom looked into your eyes, then down to your lips. He ran his tongue across his own. “You taste like Kool-Aid,” he said, lips curling into a smile.

You still had your hands grasping at the nape of his neck, bodies pulled into each other as the game continued.

“You know, that’s not how the game works,” you said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I decided to change the rules.” You couldn’t stop staring into each other’s eyes.

The song that was playing changed suddenly to one with a loud raging beat, and it broke you out of the trance you’d been in. You pulled away from Tom and glanced over at your friend, who was looking at you wide-eyed with pride. The girl across the room was shooting you daggers. Luckily, the alcohol warming your system helped you to not give a fuck.

It was time for your turn, and you decided to make up for all those times in middle school you couldn’t work up the courage to kiss the cute boy that you’d wanted to. So you picked up the bottle, let it spin around once, and stopped it as it pointed at Tom. He laughed along with a couple others. Someone else grumbled something like “get a room.”

Neither of you caring about the group anymore, Tom pulled you into his lap, this time snaking his arms around your waist, and leaned you back as he kissed you. It felt warm and familiar. The flavor of his tongue mixed with the vodka mixed with synthetic fruit punch filled your stomach with butterflies. Maybe the group gave up on the rest of the game, maybe not. You had no idea. You and Tom had synchronously tuned them out, eventually finding yourselves huddled up on a couch and wasting the rest of the evening away drinking your magic drinks and sneaking kisses in between sips. It seemed like the party was dying down, but neither of you wanted the night to end.

“Hmm, what should we do now?” you said, and Tom had a lightbulb moment, grabbing your hand and moving to stand up.

“How about another game?” he gave you a suggestive look.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Have you heard of seven minutes in heaven?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, then squeezed his hand in return. You both looked around, hearts leaping with anticipation. Where were all the damn closets in this place?

[lillywillow]

Sinners ‘n Saints

Summary: When private detective Steve Rogers is hired to investigate the wife of a client who claims she is having an affair, he discovers some things are not quite adding up.

 Word Count: 2208

 Square Filled: 1940’s AU

 Pairings: Helmut Zemo x Female Reader/ Steve x Female Reader (later)

 Warnings: Infidelity, smoking, drinking, mild language, 40’s slang

Written for @star-spangled-bingo

New York City. The Big Apple. The city where dreams were made. For all her glitz and glamour, Lady New York held some dark secrets. Steve Rogers knew this well from his years of working as a private investigator, covering everything from missing persons to ransom cases.

 One quite afternoon, Steve was pounding away at the keys of his typewriter, taking some time to document some of his toughest cases when a man entered his office. The gentleman’s hair was nicely combed; he was well dressed in a finely tailored suit, expensive Italian shoes and obnoxiously overpowering cologne. He walked over to Steve’s desk and sat in the vacant chair. He lit a cigarette and took a drag before addressing the detective.

 “You are Detective Steve Rogers of ‘Rogers Private Eye Agency’, yes?” He spoke with an accent that Steve couldn’t quite place.

 “I am. How can I help you?” he asked, pouring the man a glass of bourbon from the decanter on his desk. He thanked him and took a sip before introducing himself.

 “My name is Helmut Zemo. I suspect my wife is having an affair...”

 “I see... and what brought on this suspicion?” Steve always hated this part of the job. When spouses came to him with accusations of being unfaithful.

 “It is just a hunch... for now. I would like you to find evidence soon.” Helmut placed an envelope full of cash on Steve’s desk. “Here is half of what I am willing to pay. You will receive the other half when you complete the job.”

 Steve took the envelope and was shocked to see how much was in there. Helmut finished the drink, cringing as the amber liquid burned his throat and stood up.

 “You may start this Friday. My wife will be singing at my club The Baron.” With that, he left.

 The name suddenly clicked in Steve’s head. Helmut Zemo was a wealthy socialite who owned many nightclubs and made it into the gossip rags. There was something that didn’t sit right with Steve about the man; however, he would take jobs where he could.

That Friday, Steve went to The Baron for his night of surveillance. He took a table somewhere in the middle; close enough to see the action for himself but far enough back not to be noticeable. Steve looked around the joint, taking notice of his surroundings.

 The place was classy. The furniture was polished with the highest sheen and drinks were served in the finest crystal. The large stage in front was obscured by a velvet red curtain which would no doubt be drawn when the entertainment would begin. As he scanned, he noticed a lot of high powered men who were rumoured to be part of a crime syndicate. Steve’s attention was broken when the announcer spoke.

 “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage our very own nightingale Ms Y/N!”

 As the curtain went up, the band began to play. Lying on top of the piano was the most stunning women Steve had ever seen. Her hair was done up in curls, pinned back with a diamond hairclip. Her lips were painted sinfully red and the second she opened her mouth, her honeyed, velvet voice poured out. Her black dress sparkled under the spotlight. As she sat up and crossed her legs, the split in her dress moved up, showing off her supple thigh. Men called and whistled at the sight.

 Y/N gracefully jumped off the piano, her dress smoothing down her sides, the bottom pooling at her feet. He could now see the way how nicely it framed her curves; curves that would put Mae West to shame. Y/N made her way into the audience, her hips swaying seductively as she walked. She would place her gloved hand on the shoulder of one of the patrons, fingers running over the length of it before moving onto the next person. As she moved a little closer, Steve could see more of her diamond and pearl jewellery and smell her expensive perfume. A dame like this would certainly have no trouble attracting any man she wanted. When the song ended, she made her way back to the stage and finished up. The crowd burst into raucous applause and gave a standing ovation.

 After the show, Y/N made her way over to the bar. Steve followed, placing himself far enough away not to be noticed. She ordered a drink and while waiting, a gentleman approached her.

 “Hey, doll. Can I buy you a drink?” he smirked.

 “No, sir,” she cooed, giving him a playful tap on the nose before taking her ready drink and heading backstage. The man was about to try further to coax her when his friend grabbed him.

 “Are you crazy?! That’s Zemo’s missus. You want to be found on the bottom of the Hudson with cement shoes?!” The man’s eyes widened and headed off.

 Steve pretended he didn’t hear the conversation and ordered a whisky neat.

 “What’s the deal with the singer?” he casually asked the bartender.

 “Oh, I wouldn’t waste your time with her. She’s only got eyes for her husband. A husband I might add with a mean jealous streak in him,” he said, pouring the drink and giving it to Steve.

 This information made him think. If this information was true, why would Zemo contact him to find evidence of infidelity? Was Y/N the type of woman who liked to play dangerous games? From what he saw on stage, he wouldn’t put it past her. However if this were the case, why would she turn down the gentleman’s offer? Perhaps some things would be clearer in the light of day.

...

 Throughout the week, Steve followed Y/N wherever she went at a distance. She filled her days with perfectly mundane tasks such as shopping, cleaning the house or the occasional trip to the salon. Every interaction she had with men was normal and innocent enough, all conversations at appropriate length. There were no signs of the captivating temptress Steve had observed at the club that night.

 Her evenings were just as ordinary. The most exciting thing to happen was when she hosted a card game with her lady friends. Y/N spent most of her nights alone and when her husband did finally come home, she was greeted by a cold kiss on the cheek. Steve found this rather odd.

 One night, Y/N was sitting at the table with dinner freshly made, patiently waiting for Helmut to come home. The phone rang and she happily ran to answer it. Her expression went from smiling to looking sad as she spoke to the person on the other end. When she hung up the phone, she returned to the table and held her face in her hands crying. Steve assumed that was her husband telling her he would not be home for dinner.

...

  The following Friday, Steve went to the club once more and watched Y/N’s performance with fresh eyes. Yes, she was just as enticing but she was also professional. Steve suspected that this was the act of a strong woman who was trying to keep her marriage from falling apart while doing her job as the sultry nightclub singer. After the show, he noticed someone heading backstage with a large bouquet of flowers, presumably for Y/N. He quickly intercepted them and went to deliver them himself. Steve knocked on the door and waited for permission to enter before going in. Y/N was dressed in a silky robe and taking her hair out of its style. There was a red haired woman helping her that Steve saw around the club.

 “Delivery for ma’am,” he said, holding out the flowers to her.

 “Oh, thank you,” she smiled, taking them from him. “They’re beautiful.”

 “Probably more guilt flowers,” Nat said bitterly.

 “Nat, please...”

 “Oh, wake up and smell the coffee, Y/N! Helmut is cheating on you!”

 “Enough! He gives me flowers because he loves me! I’m one of the luckiest gals in the whole city! My husband showers me with jewellery and imported perfumes and-and expensive clothing because he loves me! Helmut loves me Natasha...” her voice became reverent and Steve wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince her friend or herself. How could he be so wrong about her? This was not a woman having an affair. This was a woman who was trying so desperately to believe that her husband was still faithful to her.

 “Are you still here? Get out!” Nat barked at Steve, going to hug Y/N. He took this as his cue to leave. Maybe he should take a closer look at his employer.

...

 Sure enough, as soon as Steve began to follow Helmut around, the evidence was as plain as the nose on your face. He saw the man with multiple women who were not his wife. He took pictures of them kissing and/or locked in a passionate embrace. Steve felt bad for Y/N and decided to go to her with the photographs.

...

 Steve arrived on the Zemo’s doorstep, taking care to come over at a time he knew Helmut would not be home. Y/N was understandably surprised to see him but invited him in nonetheless.

 “Mrs Zemo, my name is Steve Rogers and I’m a private detective. I... I’m afraid I have some bad news about your husband,” he said, handing her the envelope with the pictures. As Y/N looked through them so many emotions flashed across her face.

 “Did Nat put you up to this?”

 “No... Your husband did.”

 “Wh-what?”

 “He hired me to investigate the infidelity on your end but...”

 “That bastard! First he disrespects the confines of our marriage bed and then he hurts me further by treating me like a common whore?!” Y/N threw a nearby vase against a wall in anger. Tears started flowing down her face

 “Why would he do such a thing?”

 “The fidelity clause... I come from a rich family and owning so many businesses, Helmut was rich too. Our lawyers though it was a good idea to protect our respective assets. If one of us was proven to be unfaithful, they would be able to take the other for everything.” Y/N dropped to her knees.

 “I knew for a long for a long time I just... I thought if I told myself it wasn’t true, wished it hard enough that it wouldn’t come to light...” Steve carefully hugged her. She allowed him to, leaning into his warm touch. “He never used to be like this. I know he loved me once but I don’t know what happened.” Steve gave it some thought.

 “I... I know someone in the paper. If you will allow me, I could give the story to him. He’d approach it tastefully...” Y/N was quiet for a few moments.

 “Do it. I want him to feel as humiliated as I do. I want his name dragged through the mud as he has done with our wedding vows...” Y/N softly removed herself from Steve’s embrace and stood up, wiping her eyes and sniffling.

 “I apologise for making a scene...”

 “It’s alright. I’m sorry for dropping this information on you. My job is to fund the truth not fabricate stories.” Y/N offered him a small smile.

 “Thank you. Steve was it?”

 “Yes, ma’am.”

 “You’ve got a kind heart. I appreciate what you’ve done for me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a few arrangements to take care of.” Steve nodded and headed off, hoping that he would see her again one day.

...

 It was the biggest scandals of the year. In the months that followed, it was discovered that not only Helmut was cheating on Y/N but he was also involved in illegal activities; often involving crime syndicates. That was how he earned his fortune. As far as Steve knew, Y/N got everything in the divorce.

 One afternoon, Steve had a surprise visitor.

 “Detective Rogers?” Steve looked up to see Y/N knocking on his door, already having entered the room.

 “Y/N? What are you doing here?” As she crossed the room, he could see how much more confident she looked, like the woman she portrayed herself to be on stage.

 “Helmut owed you a debt and I intend to pay it,” she said, placing the envelope full of money on his desk.

 “I... I can’t accept this...”

 “Please. He hired you to find proof of unfaithfulness and as far as I’m concerned, you found it. You have done your job, sir.” Steve looked at the pay-packet on his desk.

 “I know this is a little forward but... may I take you out to dinner?”

 “I would like that very much. Pick me up at seven,” Y/N warmly smiled.

 Steve couldn’t wait until then. After all that she had been through, a lady like Y/N deserved to be out with a true gentleman.

[saphie3243]

First Solstice

For my Secret Snowflake @tomtenadia

Nesta spends her first Solstice sober in Illyria, unable to bring herself to brave the inner circle celebration for a second year in a row.  

Word Count: 5500+

Read on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28297182

There  was something soothing about a room being so crowded it became hard to breathe. Better still when the music was so loud you can’t hear yourself think. Best when bodies are grinding, booze is flowing, and something to smoke is being passed around. Everyone was here for the same reason, everyone wanted a distraction. Amren had made several comments that she couldn’t believe Nesta got males to go home with her when she smelled like sweat and a distillery. She apparently didn’t understand that everyone smelled the same at places like this. 

The band was better than usual. The music was… actually good. Maybe that’s why the bar was extra packed today. Or maybe it was because Solstice was tomorrow and no one wanted to think about all the ways they’ve disappointed their families this year. 

Disappointing. The male she dragged into the bathroom was just that. He wasn’t even worth the time she wasted not getting another bottle of wine. She didn’t even let him finish before booting him out and stumbling back to her favorite stool. The bartender knows her by now and has mulled wine waiting. 

It’s warm and more mulled than wine. She nodded to him. They know how to take care of her here, she certainly spends enough. Leo is decent enough to warn her off of the less than savory types that might be interested in more than even she was willing to give. She sighs back into the glass. Why she felt the need to judge herself when tomorrow she was going to get 5 times over from Feyre and insipid little family was why she needed another glass. 

She turned around in her stool, facing back out, watching the crowd move in a formless mass. This band had changed over. The new one wasn’t nearly as good. Several months haunting bars and clubs to all hours in the morning had provided Nesta a proper sampling of Velaris’ bands, and, in her mind, gave her a liberty to criticize as she saw fit. This crater-faced crooner was pitchy and couldn’t move a room if he winnowed them. That earlier one had a woman out front. She was unusual for a Fae. She was beautiful, yes, but she wasn’t the wispy waif most fae women were. She was tall and built, covered in a layer of extra fat that filled out wonderful curves and jiggled when she danced. But that wasn’t what made her remarkable. Her voice took your heart by the ears and pulled you into the emotion she wanted you to feel.

“Weird compliment, but I’ll take it.” 

__

“Lor-Cass said you weren’t going home this year,” Emerie placed the breeches she was folding into a pile of identical wares. 

“I didn’t go home last year, either,” Nesta swished the black liquid in her cup as she reviewed the ledgers. Last Solstice only served to remind Nesta how much of a stranger she was to her own family, to Feyre’s new one. She would never be able to call that debacle “going home.” This year, however, she could avoid Velaris. Being banned from the city meant Feyre no longer had the ability to force her into attending farcical family meals, no matter how pissy she was about it. 

She closed the books with a sigh and placed them back into a drawer. “Numbers look good.” 

Emerie moved her pile of pants over to their shelf. “Thanks for looking over them, I haven’t had anyone to check my math since dad.” Nesta nodded and pulled out the books and notepads Emerie kept hidden with her accounting ledgers. 

She leafed through to the furthest marked page. “You didn’t get much further last night,” she commented. 

“Ah, no time, had to process a big shipment.” 

“It’s fine,” Nesta muttered. 5 words underlined. Not the most, not the least. She reviewed the best-guess at the words definition in Emerie’s notebook. Most were correct. She added pronunciation guides next to some. “Macabre means bloody, gruesome.” 

“Why is there an R in it?” 

“Because the gods are cruel.” She heard Emerie’s answering laugh. “You’re doing well though. We can probably move on to actually writing.” She didn’t really think it would be that hard for Emerie to learn to read and write. She ran this business - she was clearly whip-smart, just uneducated. It could easily be remedied.  

“In the meantime, can you answer the orders?” 

This little arrangement worked out nicely. Nesta lended her books and made her literate, meanwhile she would help out with store correspondence and would review the books. Reviewing the books was less about checking Emerie’s math - that she had a natural understanding for - and more about making sure each transaction had sufficient notes. 

She took another sip from her night-black liquid. The best part of Illyria, in her mind, was this coffee thing. It didn’t grow locally, needing a warmer climate for the source plant to thrive, but it had become a staple in the tribes as a way to keep troops moving with minimal sleep. Hot and bitter, it really shouldn’t have been as pleasant to drink as it was, but she found herself unable to stop. 

“When does Lo- Cass head down south?” 

“He should be meeting everyone Solstice morning and be back the day after.”

“What are you going to do?” 

Stare at the liquor bottles he filled with water to tease me.  Drink my weight in coffee and stand outside Devlon’s house at 2 am sending waves of power over the door to fuck with him until some asshole walks by and works up the balls to ask me back to their place - or die of exposure. Whatever’s first. 

“Not sure, why?” 

“Would you… I don’t know… want to spend tomorrow with… me?” Emerie had approached the table, tapping her fingers with each phrase. Nesta looked her up and down. If it was anyone else, she would have thought Cassian put her up to it. But she was also alone for the holidays, and Nesta knew that was probably a much bigger deal for the Illyrian than it was for her. She had mentioned once that she didn’t have many people since her father died. Adding in that Emerie didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do... If she was asking, it was because she wanted to spend this day with Nesta. 

She smiled at her friend, “Come over whenever.” 

___

Dinner was hot and ready when she came in. Cassian always made sure that their meals were piping. His own way of combating the awful wet cold of Illyria. She had to wonder if part of it also had to do with keeping the fires low in the house.  

Nesta kicked off her boots by the door and carried them to the fireplace. She set them down next to Cassian’s - the secret to warm feet, he’d said. Their coat rack was also by the fireplace for similar reasons. She gently felt the socks left hanging there- warm, thank the Wall. She pulled off her damp knits and left them in a pile on the floor while pulled on the fresh clothes. They went up to hang immediately after.

“Do you need to take every peg? Emerie’s store is only 5 minutes away,” Cassian called from across the house. He was standing in the kitchen with two bowls of stew. 

“Five minutes flying, 25 walking,” she turned to him. “Through a foot and a half of snow.” 

She pointed to the bottom of her dress and the crust of ice that had formed there. He grimaced. 

“I would have picked you up if you asked.” 

“Unnecessary.” She pulled the dress over her head and left it to hang on the coat rack. After months of living together, they had long overcome the initial discomfort with mild nudity. Not that she was anywhere near naked. She still had the chemise that ended at her knees, her wool sleeves, her knitted belly warmer, and a double layer of wool hose. She was more covered than either Amren or Morrigan on any given day. Finally in only dry clothes, she marched over the kitchen and took the bowl from Cassian. 

Four months of living with Cassian in Illyria was… surprisingly easy. The mountains were peaceful, simple. The way of life here is more similar to the human society she grew up with than the magical speed of Velaris. Emerie was a pleasant discovery. She still wanted a drink, desperately, but the biting cold had a similar numbing effect if you stood out in it long enough. The worst part was being dragged out of bed at dawn for “training”. Though her training was less about learning to fight herself and more about standing around the training rink terrifying males while Cass tried to teach little girls to throw a punch. 

Coincidently she hadn’t gotten laid in 4 months either. 

“As much as I love seeing you in your underwear, you do have very nice, very warm leathers.” 

“Bite me,” she said as she shoveled food in her mouth. She had made it this long avoiding putting those damn things on. She wasn’t going to cave now. No matter how much imagining the fur lining made her whimper. 

He smiled down at her, making a point of flashing his teeth. “Gladly.”  Whatever mischief was running through his thoughts cleaned itself up as he changed subjects. He was the other surprise. The animosity between them was turned down to a polite simmer. Oh they still bickered, and they flirted. They never said it, and God willing never would, but any edges of disgust in their banter had long been smoothed by fondness. “Az will be picking me up at 7 tomorrow. If you change your mind about coming with me, be ready to go then.” 

“I won’t,” she answered, choosing not to tell him that she would be spending the day with Emerie. 

Surprisingly, he didn’t push. 

“Oh good, you’re up. I’m making breakfast, if you want.” 

__

Nesta woke up in a bed that was far too clean to be her own. Her head ached, her throat was dry, and she was naked. She sat up and took in her surroundings. This room was not hers. She had less furniture and more piles of shit everywhere. She was trying to figure out how she got there when the door opened and a woman came wandering in. 

Nesta recognized her as soon as she spoke and finally recalled the night prior. She was the singer for that band. They chatted each other up at the bar for hours, getting progressively drunker. By the time the bar closed they stumbled home - going to hers because it was closer. They jumped each other as soon as the door closed. It was a new experience for Nesta, being with a woman. And it was good. The singer sounded as lovely when she came as she did when she belted. 

Staying for breakfast would be nice. Something real in her stomach to soak up the alcohol was very needed. And if she played it right, there was a chance for as lovely a morning as there was a night. 

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

Nesta waited until her partner had left the room before she pulled on her dress and snuck out the window. 

Lovely wasn’t what she deserved. 

___

No training didn’t mean that Nesta didn’t wake up at first light. It just meant she didn’t need to get dressed. Part of the initial torture of first arrival was learning that Cass put her in an east facing room with larg windows on the walls - and refused to let her have curtains. Privacy apparently wasn’t as important as making sure she didn’t have oversleeping as an excuse.

She swore at the sun, as she did every morning, and felt around in the bed next to her. Before getting out from under the covers, she pulled on her fluffy robe. This little trick she learned back in the hut. Sleep with the clothes you’re going to wear if you want them to be warm in the morning. 

She trudged out to the main room and kitchen, beginning the process of preparing breakfast. Another rule of the house, if you are up first, you cook first. Same for dinner and coming home. Lunch they were on their own. There was a housemaid when she first arrived, but… she didn’t last long. She found the tea kettle and set about making hot water while she poured oats into bowls. From their icebox - a box they just left sealed outside to let winter keep cold - she pulled out a package of cured bacon. The kettle whistled, and she used the entire batch to steep the coffee. The next round of water was for the oatmeal.

The shadows between the windows grew and darkened. Before he even stepped out, Nesta greeted him. 

“I’m making coffee. Get a cup if you want some.” 

“Thank you. I’ll take bacon, too, if you don’t mind.” 

“It’s Cass’s money,” she answered, adding three more pieces to the griddle. 

Azriel was the only one from Velaris that visited with any sort of regularity, mostly due to how closely he needed to work with Cassian. He would come up about once a week for updates or meetings or to winnow Cass somewhere. He had begun to make a habit out of arriving early to chat with Nesta. Sometimes he just came up to hang out with them. He probably only came up to spend time with Cassian, but since she was usually around, they included her.

No one else from the Inner Circle bothered to visit. Rhysand and Feyre came up once, but that… did not end well. Elain felt too guilty to come see the sister whose banishment she had consented to. Morrigan wasn’t even on the island, so it wasn’t a surprise she didn’t stop by. And Amren… Amren was keeping her vow to not speak to Nesta until she apologised to Morrigan. Something Nesta still didn’t think she needed to do. 

Morrigan spent 4 nights a week at a gay bar. How the fuck was Nesta supposed to know she wasn’t out? 

“Elain asked me to bring this,” he conjured a set of books and hand-knitted socks into existence, placing both onto the table while pouring himself a cup. The books were tied together with ribbons and decorated with small bows, clearly meant to be her Solstice present. The socks - well, Elain had taken up knitting sometime in the last year and had Azriel deliver a pair every time he visited. 

“Why didn’t she just ask Cassian to bring it back with him?” Nesta scooped some brown sugar into her oatmeal. 

The ever so slight blush on his cheeks told her what his answer did not. “She wanted to make sure you had a present for the holiday.” 

“Because she knows how much I care about holidays,” and it had nothing at all to do with you leaving from her room this morning and it seeming convenient at the time. They wanted to be discrete, and Nesta accepted that - no matter how bad they were at hiding it. She poured in the hot water into her breakfast and stirred. “Any messages with that present?” 

“The bacon looks done.” 

“Azriel.” 

He sighed. “No.” 

Nesta tightened her jaw and moved the bacon from the stove to a plate, allowing him to have a piece. She wasn’t sure if she was more pissed that he didn’t have a message or that she was still hoping he would. Either way she was going to play it off. “I’m surprised they didn’t have you hock me about going, too.” 

Az cocked his head. “Cass made it pretty clear you weren’t ready for that.” She snapped up at him. 

“And what was his barometer for knowing if I was ready?” She sneered. 

But Az only shrugged, well accustomed to playing referee for Cassian and Nesta by now. “You not wanting to go.” 

__

Nesta was still thinking about Azriel’s answer by the time Emerie came over. She couldn’t decide if Cassian was being a presumptive ass or if he was being genuinely considerate. He had a habit of being both interchangeably. Like when he finally made his way to the kitchen, fully dressed and demanding breakfast. He added in some last minute jabs about coming back early if she got lonely as Az winnowed away with him. And even through the mocking tone, the message was clear. “If you don’t want to be alone, just say the word and I’ll come back.” 

He still didn’t know she was spending today with Emerie then. 

“Do you not own any decorations or do you just not like them?” she asked, looking around the room. 

“What decorations?” Nesta strained in her thoughts, there was a lot of extra shit in Feyre’s living room last year… 

“Solstice decorations.You know, candles, holly, garlands,” Emerie explained. It sounded like what Feyre had up - and what most of Velaris had up -  but in all honesty she was not sober enough last year to make the connection that it was for the holiday and wasn’t just some seasonal nonsense. Emerie squinted at her and placed a wrapped box on the table. Presents! 

Fuck. That’s right. Fae exchange presents on the Solstice. 

“I honestly don’t know.” 

Emerie squinted at her. “What do you mean you don’t know?” 

Nesta shrugged. “Humans don’t have holidays.” At most they had festivals, but they were distinctly not holidays, just an excuse to drink and dance with as many strangers as possible. The closest thing they had to a formal holiday was Treaty Day, and even that was not the intimate affair this seemed to be. She hadn’t even heard of a Solstice dinner until Feyre asked her to go last year. 

“How do you not have holidays?” she asked. 

“Holidays used to be very dangerous days to be human.” There were plenty of horror-stories around the suffering of human slaves on religious days. Whether they were being traded as gifts or killed as sacrifices...  even if the stories were exaggerations, it led to whole-sale rejection of everything religious by human society. 

“So you know nothing about solstice?” Emerie placed a hand on her hip. 

“It is the longest night of the year.” 

Emerie made it her mission to instruct Nesta on the finer points of an Illyrian solstice. First and foremost, every 5 years it was the last day of the Blood Rite. The theme of doing battle still continued in the other years, most tribes had hunts or tournaments for the men to mark the occasion. Women were expected to work the day to prepare for the night. The night of the Solstice was the only true peace Illyria ever saw. Solstice nights were for feasting, music, and dancing. Fighting after dark was strictly forbidden. Gifts were expected between families, friends, and especially rivals. It symbolized an acceptance that though Illyrians may compete with one another, they were still members of one army. 

“Does this tribe have a tournament?” Nesta asked. Cassian hadn’t mentioned anything about it, or a feast afterwards, but he might not have thought her interested. Or ready, she thought ruefully.

“Devlon hosts a melee tournament. Puts all the entrants in the ring together and waits to see who comes out. The large feast at the end is prepared by entrant’s families,” Nesta knew she meant women in those families, “For the entrants and their families. Dad didn’t enter, so we would just watch the tournament and then spend the night at home.” 

“Do you want to watch the tournament this year?” 

“Yeah but you’re still in your pajamas,” Emerie laughed. 

She watched by the door as Nesta dressed in her warmest clothes. Watching men fight on her day off wasn’t exactly Nesta’s idea of a good time. But Emerie wanted to go. And Cassian had tried to make the decision of whether or not she should go by not telling her about it, so that in and of itself made her want to go. Because neither were entering, and certainly neither were cooking, they wouldn’t be able to attend the feast after. But that’s just as well. A night back at the house with hot drinks and Cassian’s pantry seemed just fine to both of them. 

The tournament took place in the training rings. Normally the 5 or so rings were roped off from one another, allowing different ages and skill levels to train separately. But today Devlon had taken down the separators, providing an obnoxiously large space for his melee. But it was needed. It seemed every one of Devlon’s soldiers signed up for the tournament. About 200 competitors, ranging from small boys to grown men. There were even some father-son pairs helping each other warm up in the ring. 

Outside the rings, there was yet another crowd of voyeurs. Women and girls taking breaks from their preparations to watch, the merchant families - like Emerie’s, and the men too old and frail to compete anymore. Standing at the head of it all was Devlon, a poor-man’s Cassian. He caught wind of them walking up and immediately flared at the sight of Nesta before turning back to the tournament. Being a witch in Illyria had certain perks. Devlon’s apprehension being only part of it. The crowd parting for them, allowing them to stand at his side and have the best view, was another. 

“Soldiers!” Devlon called as he stepped forward. All 200 men turned to him at attention, well trained by now. “You know the rules. No siphons, no weapons, no flying, no killing. You fall, you’re out. You yield, you’re out. You get knocked out of the ring, you’re out. The last men standing at sunset wins.” He raised his arm in the air, making it visible to all. He took one last look around the ring, took a breath, and dropped his arm and stepped back as he bellowed, “Lay on!”

The chaos was immediate. One of the younger kids, there without a father to hold them up, fell immediately. The rest were at each other's throats, kicking, punching, wrestling. Part of her was worried that the battle-royale would be too similar to the war. But without the clang of steel and the geysers of blood, she found this was more similar to the crowded dance halls in Velaris. Devlon, now standing next to the girls, kept his eyes on the mock-battle as he spoke. “I thought you’d be with Cassian today.” 

“And miss a battle royale? Honestly Devlon, do you know me at all?” She smiled at him, relishing how he flinched at her grin. “Can’t help but notice none of the girls are competing.” 

His jaw tightened. “The Solstice melee is not training. It’s tradition.” 

“Now you said the same thing about the girls training, too, did you not?” Nesta had no interest in ever learning how to fight herself, and didn’t really care if girls trained or not. But there was a difference between choosing not to do something and not being allowed to do something. 

“If Lord Cassian wants to insert his views here as well, he should be here to do it himself.” The harsh words were undercut by the bead of sweat racing down his cheek. He wasn’t wrong. That was part of the reason Cass was stationed up here full time. Changing the rules around women required full time intervention. In Nesta’s mind, it also required more input from the women, but that was a discussion for another time. 

“Maybe next year,” Nesta yawned. She watched the battle progress. After the initial early eliminations, they had plateaued into a minor stalemate. Some alliances also became clear. Groups of friends or families fighting together, watching each other’s back, catching each other before they fell. She didn’t cheer as the crowd or Emerie did. Rather, her and Devlon seemed to be the only calm people there. 

Then… something odd happened. One of the teenage boys fell suddenly. He didn’t seem to get hit particularly hard, for one. And secondly, he didn’t get back up. Both Devlon and Nesta leaned forward, looking closer. She saw it first, sniffed it out. Blood. The boy had been hit in the side and was bleeding from the wound. 

“Devlon,” she said very carefully. 

“I know, I didn’t see who did it.” 

“We need to get him out.” 

“His friends will get him out.” 

She held her breath, watching. No one came. She hadn’t been watching him particularly, but she didn’t remember him teaming up like the others. The way they walked around him… “He doesn’t have friends,” she snarled. Even Emerie gulped as Nesta’s anger stirred the well of her power. Cass told her stories. Back when the shakes and cold sweats were unbearable, he stayed up with her and told stories, trying to distract her through it. Trading one dark truth for another. She told him about watching her mother die, he told her that he was alone for years until Rhys. A bastard that was left to fend for himself, potentially to die if he wasn’t strong enough. From the way they walked over this kid, he was the same. She needed to get him out of there. He was bleeding out and no one was doing a damn thing about it. 

“We cannot interfere with the melee,” Devlon said, “it’s against the rules.” 

“So is weapons, but someone clearly has a knife,” she spat. Devlon didn’t say anything to that. He just kept scanning the make-shift battlefield, searching. “There!” he shouted, and his green siphon flashed. Another teenager was plucked into the air by his wings. He kicked and thrashed, a small knife in his fist. Devlon pulled the kid to him, releasing his magic’s grip and decking as asshole as he got in range. The boy went down with just that one hit. 

But the first boy was still out there. He was still bleeding out. Alone in a crowd. He was going to die. He was going to die in this little mock battle where killing was strictly forbidden. Was this why Cassian didn’t tell her about it? Did he have holidays like this? Did older boys gang up on him and try to kill him without anyone noticing? Was he left alone to bleed on his own? 

“Nesta!” 

Emerie’s voice was farther away than it should have been, and muffled by a crowd of idiots fighting with one another. She wasn’t entirely sure how she got here, but Nesta was standing over the fallen boy. As they registered her presence, one by one the soldiers stopped. “The witch.” “It’s the witch.” “Why is the witch here?”  She ignored them all, kneeling down to the injured. He was pale and grimacing, having lost a lot of blood - still losing it, actually. The knife had gotten him just below the ribs, catching who knows which organs. Without another word she picked him up, allowing his head to rest against his shoulder and his body to rest on her torso. 

She turned back to Emerie and Devlon, one watching with concern, the other pissed as hell. She stepped towards them, slowly, carefully. She didn’t want to jostle the kid’s injuries more than necessary. No one came near her as she walked out of the ring. At first she thought it was the same as the audience, that they were simply afraid of the witch. But a glance around gave her a different answer.

Her power extended around her in a sphere, creating barriers of ethereal flowing silver. The grass around her withered and died, and no man here wanted to see what would happen if they touched the walls of silver flames. When she got to the edge of the ring, the rope touched her power and rotted to nothing. She didn’t know how this boy still lived in her arms, but he was still breathing- barely. She spoke to both Devlon and Emerie. 

“He needs a healer.” 

“I’ll find Marta and have her meet you at the house.” 

Nesta nodded to her friend and turned to walk the familiar path to Cassian’s house, her power dying down as she crossed the threshold.

__

Marta arrived at the same time she did. They set the kid down on the kitchen table as the old woman got to work. The boy did get stabbed, but only in the liver. It took longer than Nesta would have thought, certainly longer than the battlefield-healing she remembered from the war, but Marta was able to stabilize him and stitch him up. She left them with instructions to make sure the boy didn’t get infected or pop a stitch in the night. 

“Not how you planned to spend the Solstice, I’m guessing?” Nesta asked. 

Emerie tilted her head, “No but seeing every warrior in the village piss himself is worth it.” She slumped down on the couch. “We have a moment, want to open your present?” she gestured to the box on the table. 

“Y-yeah, just let me grab yours.” Nesta ran back to her room. She grabbed the stack of books Elain bought her, still wrapped from this morning. Definitely a faux paus, but she would never know. 

Nesta came back out with the present and set it in front of Emerie. “Happy Solstice.” The look of awe and excitement was worth it. As Emerie began to untie the books, Nesta began to unwrap her present. Under the paper was a long, thin box. She unlidded it to find a set of leather and wood hair pins - Illyrian style hair pins, made to not get cold in winter. 

“Thank you,” she said, still admiring the etching on the leather thong. 

“I’d thank you but, I think mine goes to Elain.” 

“What?” Nesta whipped her head up to see the first book open on the table and Emerie holding a hand written note. She was clearly reading it but let Nesta snatch it from her anyway. 

“So should I let you borrow the books or-”

“Shush.” Emerie laughed and paged through the first novel as Nesta read the note. 

Dear Nesta, 

I know you are still upset with me, and with Feyre, for sending you away. And you are right to be upset. You were there for me, after the Cauldron and after Grayson. You held our family together after Feyre left. And when you needed us, needed me, I didn’t know how to help. 

I don’t know if it is the power or just my own knowledge of you, but I knew there was nothing I could do. I knew that if I tried to help, I would only fail. And that is not an excuse. Fear of failure does not make not trying ok, but it is what I did. And I am sorry. 

I know putting this in a letter hidden in a book is still the coward’s way, but I don’t think I could face you if I didn’t apologize first. I hope to have Azriel take me for a visit after the Solstice if you would have me. 

Your sister, 

Elain

___

They stayed up most of the night, playing cards, reading, and watching over the boy. Nesta had planned to stay up the full night, but using her power that day and waking up at 6 am had taken its toll. She found herself drowsing into her cards. Around 3am, Emerie sent Nesta to bed, agreeing to stay up and keep watch. Nesta’s head barely hit the pillow before she was out. 

She woke in darkness. Not odd for her. Waking up in the middle night was fairly common. But when she looked to her window, she saw that it was not night. There was sunlight shining behind the makeshift curtain someone had thrown over her window. She pushed herself up. Who? 

“You’re up.” 

She turned her attention to the chair on the other side of her bed. Cassian sat there, watching over her with an indecipherable expression. She sat up.

“When did you get home?” 

He ran his fingers through his hair. It was down and knotted, unusual for him. There were bags under his eyes. “Last night, before dawn. Az brought me back,” he brought his hands together and looked at her. “Emerie told me what happened. You lost control again.” 

“How’s the boy?” 

“Petros is fine. I moved him to my room to sleep off the rest of the potion the healer gave him.” 

“That’s good.” 

“No, you couldn’t,” his hands gently reached out and lifted her face to look at him. “Why couldn’t you?” 

Cassian moved to the bed, sitting next to Nesta. “You lost control for him.”

“I-I couldn’t just let him bleed out,” she explained, staring at a spot on the bedspread.

Because he reminded me of you. She didn’t know if she said the words out loud or not. But Cassian’s answering kiss was so soft, so gentle, so sweet, she didn’t care. She responded to his kiss in kind, her hand cupping his face, finally feeling those perfectly chiselled cheekbones. His tongue passed over her lower lip and she opened for him, inviting him deeper. She met his tongue with her own and wrapped her hands around the back of his head, pulling him closer. He grinned through the kiss, gently placed his hand on her shoulders, and pushed her back down on the bed. 

It was the first time Nesta stayed for breakfast after.

___________

Tagging potential readers:

@perseusannabeth

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /Part Eighty Sixx/

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: Enjoy! sorry the updates aren’t as often like they were before. I’ll try to do better

Warnings: angst, drugs, language, drug induced paranoia 

Taglist:  @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol,  @a-simple-salmon,  @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @awesomealmostdopestudent, , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @vintagebox @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, , @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream,  @broke-n-bitchy​,  @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28​, @lilyhw1, @herbertweeest, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001,  @waywardprincess666, @iluvmesomemarvelndc, @zoenicoles, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @nassauartist  @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe,  @kellysimagines @thoughtsoftheantagonist , @sleepyjunhong  @meetthesixxter @sparxx27 @gingerspicetalks @kaitieskidmore1 @unknownoblivion @nevergoodenuffbutokaaayyy @sublimeprincesswasteland @kylieinwonderland @haileynicoleseavey17 @lavendersoundbarrier  @xxisxxisxxis, @dogmom2014, @cruesixxlover1991, @xpoisonousrosesx,  @m0rnlngstar, @love-struck-aries, @youretheonlyonewhomakesme,  @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @arianareirg, @fentitrbl, @patheticgay69 @rocknroll--baby​ @redlipscrystalskies14, @samanthadegaro @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @thechangingme, @idkmanhereisshitilike, @makaelahdelvalle

Nikki held my hand tightly as we walked through a crowd of photographers. Quickly, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer to him, my hand darting up to his chest, fingers intertwining with the layered rosaries and the same padlock necklace I had gotten for him years prior.

I heard Nikki mutter a curse word when photographers screamed for pictures and a quick word. Nikki declined but allowed them to take pictures of us. We were at the album release party and there was already a buzz about the music. Mainly because they wanted to see if Mötley could do it without Vince.

We walked inside hand in hand before he quickly let go and put distance between us. I frowned a bit but quickly perked up when Alan Kovac came up to him, "Nikki! Congratulations man." He gives him a quick hug "All the hard work has paid off. C'mon let's celebrate." He's quickly pulled in another direction, I see him glance back at me before he starts talking to Alan and the other suits. The record label, the marketers...those people.

I sigh deeply as I walk over to the open bar. At least I had an excuse to go shopping and get a new dress. I order a vodka soda with lime as I sip and people watch. I didn't know half of these people and I'm sure Nikki felt the same way. I should have just stayed home with Arianna however I wanted to make an effort in supporting him like a good girlfriend should do, or whatever I am to him.

Ever since my date a few weeks ago, Nikki has been extremely distant. I know he wants to talk about it, and I do too but we both don't know how to bring it up. So the best thing we know how to do is ignore it and act like it didn't happen. Therapy was a bust the other day too, we sat in silence for forty five minutes. How much longer can we keep doing this?

I get tired of sipping through the plastic straw and toss it to the side, chugging the rest of it before putting the glass down and ordering another one. The bartender tries to make small talk, I brush him off and leave before walking over to the VIP area where the band is. Cigarette smoke from John and Mick hit my face, I would usually say Tommy too, but he's trying to quit before the baby gets here.

I sit down in the red velvet chair besides Clementine, "That's a pretty dress. Where'd you get it?" I smile at her.

She leans closer to my ear, "I got it at Target."

God bless Clementine for not being like the other wives and girlfriends.

"It's probably the last cute dress I can fit in for the next six months. I've already been gaining weight."

"I think it's just you stress eating and not pregnancy weight." I smirk as she flips me off and playfully hits my shoulder, "What are you drinking?" I point at the red liquid in a martini glass.

"A virgin cosmopolitan." She points at mine, "Vodka soda?"

I nod, "Double the vodka." I glance seeing Nikki come over, he eyes the spot next to me before changing his mind and opts for sitting by Corabi instead. I look at him a moment before looking back at Clementine. Her eyebrows raise in question as I take another long sip.

"Let me just take a guess, he's bitter over your date with Jon?" Clementine questions as I roll my eyes, "He needs to get over it. This was the deal, you both date someone else and decide if it's what you want. It's not that hard to comprehend."

I chuckle at her words, "You would think right? The only time we talk is at the dining table with Arianna and who's doing pick up duty. Other than that, there's no interaction. I even walked around the house in my underwear and one of his shirts and he still wouldn't talk to me."

"Have you tried being the bigger person?"

Well, obviously that would be too easy.

"I don't know why I have to be the bigger person. He's the one that's all cranky about it. I stopped giving him shit for Donna after their second date. He just doesn't like when I play his game better than him, he never has." I express to her as she chuckles.

"God, you two are a match made in hell." Clementine laughs, "Forget about all of that tonight and just have some fun. You're kid free and it's an open bar. What more could you want?" I glance at Nikki as she follows my gaze, "That's beside the point!"

I smile a bit, "I'm fine Clementine. I'm here and I'm having fun."

"You're always just fine, Van."

I glance, "Because I'm fine. I'm good." I look over when Nikki gets up, holding his cell phone to his ear before he disappears into the crowd, "I'm gonna go use the restroom. Maybe get another drink and some food. You hungry?"

Clementine chuckles "Do I even have to answer that?"

I nod, using her knee as a crutch to get up. I squeeze past people before I get to the restrooms, seeing the line and groaning. I eye the men's bathroom for a second, not seeing a single line or a dude walk through the doors. I clear my throat walking past dirty glares and eye rolls as I walk into the bathroom.

"Oh fuck.." I turn around seeing Corabi taking a piss, "I'm sorry John."

He laughs a bit, I hear the noise of his zipper before the flush of the urinal, "It's okay. There's nobody in the stalls." I nod quickly, walking into it. God, men are fucking disgusting. I squat over the toilet doing my business as I hear him wash his hands before repeated sniffing. I hear him mutter a "shit" before more sniffing. I flush the toilet and step out seeing him using his car key to take a bump.

"You want some?"

My mouth runs dry and the angel and devil are arguing on my shoulder, "I didn't know you used." I step over paper towels on the floor and go to wash my hands hearing him sniff again before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Just socially. Helps with my anxiety." He responds monotone as he looks at me through the mirror. I see his eyes wander down the backside of me as I reach to dry my hands.

"Does Nikki know?"

"Why? You gonna tell him?" I shake my head and he smiles, "Good girl." He offers the bump to me as I stare at it.

C'mon. Just go ahead. Look out how little that bump is. It won't do anything to you.

I shake my head, "I'm okay John. Thank you though." I step to the door but he steps back and leans against it, "I should get back to-"

"Nikki?" He laughs, "Arent you two fighting right now? He's bitched about you for weeks now."

"John, you don't know what you're talking about. We're just having a disagreement." I stare at him, watching him sniff the white powder again.

Go ahead. Just say yes. You know you want too. C'mon, what's the big worry?

John laughs at me as he shoves his curly strands out of his face, "I guess dating other people is a pretty big disagreement."

"It's what he wanted." I raised my voice, becoming stern as he smiled at me.

"Hey sweetheart. It ain't any of my business." John snorts one last key bump before closing the vial and puts it back in his pocket. He grabs the door and holds it open, "Ladies first..."

My feet stay planted as I stare at him, he raises an eyebrow before closing the bathroom door, "One bump and that's it." Johns lips tug upwards as he pulls out the vial, "And you don't say shit. It stays here in the bathroom or I swear to god I will ruin your fucking life."

He doesn't say anything in return just a simple chortle as he dips the silver key into the vial. I hold a nostril close as I snort it up quickly. The whiz going straight to my head. I feel my heart beat throughout my body and the goosebumps rising on my skin cause me to shiver. I try to rub away the irritation, sneezing repeatedly right after, "Thanks.." I see that he holds out another one I sigh and snort it in the other nostril.

John chuckles as I wipe my face. He opens the door and follows behind me.

I feel Corabi's hand rest on my lower back as he gets us back over to the bands section. I stop walking seeing Donna sitting next to Nikki, her tan legs draped over his knee as she clutches a fruity drink with an umbrella. She's whispering in his ear and he laughs at whatever she said. His hand is placed over her knee, rubbing up and down her bare thigh, fingers pulling on the bottom hem of her skirt.

I glare at them, feeling my wrist being pulled on as my name is being shouted over the music, "What did you say?" I look at Clementine, eyes low and hazy as she stares at me.

"I said...what took you so long!?" She shouts a bit, dragging me over to the booth as I can't take my eyes off of them. Donna leans over and kisses his cheek and jaw as he as the biggest smile plastered on his lips. I feel my chest heaving up and down as I try to find a solid breath of air to suck in. Clementine touched my cheek to bring me back to her and away from the looming panic that was slowly rising.

"Sorry, the bathroom...the-the uh line was really long." I stare confused again as I now hear Donnas high pitched laugh over all the other noise. Why? Why was she here when I'm here? When he held my hand and held me close when we got here?

"And no food?" Clementine laughs. How could she be laughing? Does nobody see what's going on? My eyes widen when Nikki gently grips her throat, his thumb running over her skin back and forth as he kisses her. His eyes stay opened and locked on mine.

"Why's he doing that?!" I shout, startling her as she turns to look at what I'm yelling at.

"Who? Whose doing what?" She asks confused, staring at me concerned, "Vanity? Hey! Look at me!"

I can't rip my eyes away, Nikki smiles at me when she kisses his neck and touches his exposed chest, "Don't you fucking see her kissing him?!?"

"Whose kissing who Vanity?! Jesus Christ are you drunk already?!" She pulls me to the side but I try to fight her, "Vanity! Stop!"

"Nikki!! He-he's just!!-" I try to get it out, but my words are a jumbled, slurred mess.

"....is getting his picture taken with the band?" Clementine says in my ear as she points over to them. Huge smiles on their faces as they hang off of one another laughing and yelling as flashes from cameras go off.

I blink a few times, staring. Nikki sees me and waves at me. I look over to the couch, no one was there, "What?" I say quietly as Clementine grips my arm and drags me out the back doors. I feel relief wash over me as the cold air hits my skin.

"What did you do?" She shoves my shoulders, "What did you do Vanity?!" She shoves me again until I'm leaning against the concrete wall. I feel the world spinning around me, Clem is a distorted mess as she yells "What did you fucking take?!"

"I-I didnt..." I can barely focus on the three of them that were standing in front of me "Oh god..." I mutter as I run my hands through my hair.

"Don't you dare lie to me!" She shouts, "You look sicker than a fucking dog and your eyes won't stay still!"

I rest my hand at the base of my throat, I felt like I was choking on nothing as I try my hardest to focus, "B-blow! I had some blow in the bathroom! A-and I-I think I'm h-having a bad reaction!" I stutter over my words, trying to keep my tears in.

"Yeah?! You fucking think?! God Damnit." Clementine groans as she paces around before grabbing my hand "C'mon-" she tries to pull me back inside.

"No! I can't go inside! Not while he's with her!!"

"What?!" Clementine stares at me, eyes narrowing, "What are you talking about? He's not with anyone-"

"Yes he is!! I saw them!" I flinched, breathing rapidly when Clementine cupped my cheeks, "I-I saw them. And they were kissing and he was looking at me to make sure I was watching!! Why would he do that?!"

"Van-Vanity hey! Hey! Listen to me-" I shook my head as she forced me to look at her, "Nikki is not with anyone. You're just seeing things and none of it is real. It's just your mind making you hallucinate. None of it is real-" She repeated, "Let's go inside and try to relax, alright? We'll get some water and some food."

"None of it is real..." Clementine nodded as I shook under her hands, "Okay..."

*Clementine’s POV*

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!!!!

I held onto Vanity's arm, feeling her tremble as we walked back inside. Her jaw muscle was clenching and unclenching repeatedly. I looked down at the crease of her elbow hoping to find a prick mark from a needle but there was none. I guided her back over to our section as she plopped down on the couch, hunched over with her head between her knees.

"Okay. C'mon, you gotta sit up or someone's gonna ask questions." I told her as she leaned back against the cushion, pupils blown with greens and golds lit up around them, "I'll be right back, okay? I'm just gonna get us some water." Van looked panicked but she quickly nodded.

I glanced at her one last time before walking away, seeing the guys at the bar. Tommy smiled, running up to me and giving me a kiss, "There you are!" He cheered, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

"Hi baby." I leaned up to kiss his cheek "I'm just getting some water for me and Van.." I tell him, he yells at the bartender to get one water and one Jack and coke, "Tommy..."

"It's too early for her to be drinking water." He whistles loudly and yells for Vanity as loud as he can, "Go bring her over here! She needs to celebrate too instead of moping around." He laughs a bit, "Vanity!!" He shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth.

I glance seeing her watching, she slowly gets up...well stumbling up as she comes over, "Jesus, maybe she does need a water..."

"Tommy...she fucked up.." I say in his ear as he looks at me.

"Well yeah! I'm sure she is a little fucked up by the way she's walking." He laughs loudly again and I grow frustrated with him.

I grab his arm and pull him closer to my height, "No Tommy. She fucked up. She snorted some blow and now she's having a bad reaction or trip or whatever the hell it is. She's hallucinating." I tell him over the music as he stares at me for a moment before glancing behind me. I turn around seeing Nikki sitting in a chair laughing.

Tommy walks away from me as he goes over to Vanity, wrapping his arm around her waist and helps her walk straight. He brings her over, blocking Nikki's view as he helps her up onto the barstool. He reaches over the bar and grabs a bottle of water and forces it into her hand "Drink it now or I dump it on you." He tells her sternly, I see the gleam of fight in her eyes, but she does what she's asked to do anyways.

Tommy turns back to me, "We need to tell Nikki." I suggest as he stares, before laughing.

"Baby have you gone nuts?! That's gonna be world war three! Just let her relax. She's just having some coke induced paranoia, she'll come down from it in a little bit." I move past him when I see Vanity struggling to keep her head up. I place my hand at the base of her neck and glare at him, "She could be overdosing Tommy."

"She's not foaming out the mouth and she isn't seizing. She's fine. I've seen her snort two eight balls in one night and obviously she lived. She's clean and sober and it's probably a shock to the system." Tommy laughs a bit, taking a sip of his beer as he looks at me, "What?"

"Is that suppose to make me feel better?!"

"Please don't fight over me. I'm sorry..." Vanity slurs as she looks at us, "I just wanted something to make me feel better."

"It's okay, Van. Just try to relax." Tommy sweet talks her as I slap his chest.

"It is not okay! Just sit there and be quiet. And pray to god Nikki doesn't feel like making things up with you."

*Nikki's POV*

My eyes wandered a few seats over seeing Tommy and Clementine laughing with Vanity. An empty pit formed in my gut as i watched them for a moment. I was only avoiding the situation because she was avoiding it too. I rubbed my face before ordering a Jack and coke and a vodka cranberry for Van to break the ice. I pop a piece of gum into my mouth before grabbing the drinks.

I strutted over, seeing Tommy and Clementine bickering about something before they turn to me, staring intently "What?" I glance at them before sitting in the chair next to Van, placing the glass in front of her and resting my forearm against the back of her chair.

"Vans actually done drinking." Clementine announced, "I told her not to eat that shrimp cocktail."

I glanced at her before Van "Are you okay?" I spoke against her ear as she nodded quickly.

"I'm okay. I feel better now. Just got a little woozy is all." I catch a bit of her slurring as I watch her reach for the glass and take a sip, the ice cubes shaking and clinking as she holds the cocktail. I glance down at my watch, we had barely been here for 2 hours.

"Do you wanna go home?" I ask softly, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "I've talked to enough people and don't mind being home with you." I touch her shoulder and feel her tense up.

She shakes her head, looking at the counter of the bar and not me, "No, it's okay. I promise I'm fine. I guess I just drank too much to fast. I'm good Sixx."

I nod, leaving it at that but I still look at her worried. I notice her hands shaking still as she grips the edge of the bar, "Van, look at me a moment." She quickly glances at me before looking past me, "Please look at me. Just me." My eyes wander behind her seeing Tommy and Clementine looking at me, Clementine nervously chewing on her thumb nail as Tommy had a look of worrisome.

Golden eyes find mine, pupils blown but I don't react as I can see tears in her eyes. She knows that I know and that's enough for me. I put my hand on the side of her cheek, she was flushed and burning up, "Keep it together." I spoke sternly as she quickly nodded at my words.

"I-I I'm sorry.." she stumbled over her words, "I'm so sorry Nikki." My thumb catches the tear that rolls down.

"Just keep it together, okay? Only for a little while longer."

Vanity takes a deep breath in and exhales through her nose, "Okay...I can do that. Then we can go home?"

My lips curl in a smile, fighting back every derogative word I wanted to scream in her face "Yes doll, then we can go home. You sit tight, get some water and relax." I tell the bartender to give her a another water bottle before I glare looking at Clem and Tommy.

I leave Vans side, motioning for the two to come over to me, "What is she on? Is it coke? If that's the case, it's the calmest I've ever seen her than."

"W-what do you mean? She's on something? I had no clue.." Tommy stammers as I give him a look.

"Cut the shit. Is she using again?" I look at Clementine, begging for answers as she shrugged.

"I don't know Nikki. And I don't know what she's on. She wasn't making any sense and she started crying then she was hallucinating. She needs to go home Nikki."

I laughed "Have you fucking lost it? Arianna will still be up. If she's hallucinating here she'll be hallucinating at home." I look over at Van seeing her reaching out for something that's not even there, "Fuck. Just keep her distracted or something. I don't want her ruining anything tonight." I sighed in frustration running my hand over my face as I let out a muttered fuck, "I gotta step outside for a minute. Just keep an eye on her, please."

~Next Morning~

I jolt awake, gasping for a breath as I push and kick my comforter off of me. I wipe the sweat from my forehead before holding my stomach, god I felt like I was gonna hurl. My bedroom door is thrown open, the handle hitting the wall as Arianna and Anarchy come running in.

"Mommy!! I'm going with auntie and uncle Tommy today!" She announces pulling herself onto my bed and sitting on her knees in front of me, "Daddy said she's on her way to get me."

I rub my eyes and smile looking at the bun Nikki put her hair in "Is your backpack ready? And your shoes picked out?"

She nodded feverishly, "Yes! Daddy did it and told me to come wake you up to say bye." I run my hands through my hair before getting up. I notice my rooms in disarray as I pull up a pair of sweats. I help Arianna jump off the bed and she's clinging to my leg as we walk down the hallway and to the stairs. She lets go of me as she sits, sliding down the stairs and laughs up a storm as Anarchy chases her down.

"You ready for the whole day with your favorite person besides me?" Nikki smiles handing over her sneakers. I say good morning to him as I walk to the kitchen but he ignores me.

"The whole day? Does that mean I can bring my toys over?!" I hear Nikki chuckle, "No sweetie. I think you still have plenty of toys over there."

I pour myself a cup of coffee and let Anarchy out at the back door before going to the living room and sitting down, "Daddys right baby. You still have a lot over there."

She pouts a bit, "But they aren't new toys like the ones I have here.."

"Just ask Uncle Tommy for new toys." I shrug and smile at her as her eyes light up.

"Van." Nikki scoffs and rolls his eyes, "Arianna, you're fine with the toys you have there and the toys you have here. You aren't getting anything new."

Arianna huffs before she stands in front of the tv watching cartoons, "You hungry V? I can cook you something. She already ate."

I nod, looking at him "I'm starving. Can you make French toast? What are we doing today since she's going over to Clems?"

I stare when he narrows his eyes at me, "I'm staying home and so are you." He says sternly as my eyebrows pull together, "Don't need you in public till the news and frenzy dies down about your behavior."

I tilt my head to the side, "My behavior?" I say confused as I hear a car horn.

"Wait till she's out of the house, yeah?" Nikki rolls his eyes at me and I frown at his attitude. He helps Arianna with her jacket and hands over her backpack, "See you later bug." He bends down and kisses her forehead before he leaves to the kitchen.

"Is daddy mad?" Arianna questions curiously as we walk to the front door.

"What? No, no, daddy's not mad. You know he's just grumpy in the mornings." I bend down to fix her laces, "I'll see you later okay? Be good and we can go to blockbuster tonight." She leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek and a tight hug. I open the car door for her and help her get up and wait till she buckled. I feel Clementine looking at me and I glance, "Good morning."

"Morning.." she grumbles but cheers up when she says the same thing to Arianna.

"Thanks for taking her. I don't remember us talking about it though?"

"Yeah, you didn't. Nikki asked me."

Why was everyone being so damn short with me?

"Okay...well have fun. Bye Ari." I wave to her as Clem rolls the window up and starts heading down the driveway.

I walk back in the house, leaning against the front door as I smell cinnamon and vanilla coming from the kitchen. I feel jittery as I walk through the house, Nikki has the portable radio on to the rock station in the kitchen. He's moving his head a bit and has his back towards me, I pull myself on the barstool and keep to myself.

"That was Bulls on Parade by Rage Against The Machine and you're listening to KLAZT LA's best rock station. Up next, we're taken it back with a littl Home Sweet Home by Mötley Crüe. Speaking of the Crüe, did anyone else see the article in entertainment today about the antics of Vanity Blackwood last night at their album release party. Chick seems like a real keeper...Not!"

I gasp before Nikki tosses the magazine down on the counter, "You fucking embarssed me last night Vanity."

I stare at the magazine cover. I look fucking plastered as Nikki is trying to keep me standing and the headline reads: The princess takes a tumble as Mötley Crüe heads in the direction of their old antics.

My eyes widen at the shots of me on my knees outside of a limo with both Tommy and Nikki trying to pull me up. I pull up my sweats seeing cuts and bruises on my kneecaps and shins.

"God, Nikki..I-I'm so sorry. I don't even know what to say. I-I don't remember any of this."

Mötley Crüe was suppose to be celebrating their album release with new lead singer John Corabi, however they ended up babysitting. Vanity Blackwood (Nikki Sixx's ex and baby mama) had one too many fruity drinks and ended up having to be escorted out (see above). Our office reached out to the bands rep but they had no comment.

Nikki slammed his hand down on the counter, covering the picture of me in the limo with a bright yellow star reading 'censored' between my spread legs, "You're really going to look me in the eye, lie, and tell me you don't remember any of this shit? You humiliated yourself, me, and the band. So who gave you the fucking blow?"

Everything came rushing back, the blow in the bathroom with Corabi, the hallucinations, the vomit outside in the rose bushes when we got home, "I-I went to the bathroom then I needed some air and clem came with me and I started hyperventilating and that's all I remember."

"Vanity." Nikki took a deep breath, "Just tell me what happened. I won't get mad, I just want to know. I was fucking worried sick about you last night, almost took you to the damn hospital."

I pushed the magazine away from me, "I went to the bathroom, then I went outside. I remember I was seeing crap that wasn't there. And I felt sick to my stomach. But I didn't snort anything I swear. I haven't touched anything since New York."

"Vanity! You weren't acting drugged! Or like someone spiked your drink! You were a incoherent mess, you were pale as a ghost and your pupils were as big as the eye of a needle."

The yelling made my head throb as I rubbed my temples to relieve it, "I don't know, Nikki. The last thing I remember is sitting at the bar."

He rolled his eyes, "So I don't know when you're high on coke? You were a babbling mess. Kept saying shit over and over. You're jaw was clenched so god damn tight I thought I was going to have to take you to a dentist! Fuck! Van! You were saying I was with Donna and wouldn't shut the fuck up about it! She wasn't around! Wasn't even fucking invited!" He stepped away from me to go flip the French toast angrily and toss the spatula down after.

"I don't know Nikki..." I spoke in a soft whisper, "I didn't snort, smoke, or shoot anything. Why can't you believe me?" I was already this far down the rabbit hole, why should I stop now?

"Because Van, I know you. Did John give you something because he was acting fucking weird too."

I shook my head looking at him, his eyes were drilling holes in an attempt to get it out of me, "No....I barely talked to him. I congratulated him and that was it."

"Fine." He glares for a moment before looking away, "We'll have to wait a few days before coming out with a statement to clear things up."

"Can't we just wait for it to blow over like everyone else does?"

He scoffed, "Seriously?! You dragged my bands name through the fucking mud!" Nikki shouts before stomping over to the tv and turning it to MTV, "They've been talking about your god damn interview all morning."

"Any thoughts on the album Vanity?"

I rubbed my face as I saw myself almost fall over nothing before grabbing onto the interviewer for stability, "Well, in my honest opinion, the album could be better." I slurred every word, "It's-its not Mötley and it sucks without Vince. Corabi sucks, and the album sucks. It sounds like every band now a days. It's too...too heavy. And! And you know what else!" I pointed my finger at the camera and grabbed ahold of the microphone, "Vince wasn't even fired like Nikki said. I was there that day. Nikki was just bitching like he always does and-"

I felt sick to my stomach when Nikki turned off the tv and threw the remote down, "That's why we need a god damn statement. We'll go with your lie about the spiked drink and call it a day. Got it?"

"It's not a lie.."

"Just don't. Just fucking don't, okay? I know when you are lying and when you're telling the truth. I'm done fucking talking about it."

I stared down at my nails, seeing dried blood around my knuckles. Just say it. Just tell the truth. Just say Corabi gave you the drugs and risk the chance of Nikki kicking him out of the band. I heard Nikki groan when the house phone started ringing.

"What?!" He answers it before rolling his eyes, "It's for you." Nikki glares and hands it to me.

I get up and go with down on the couch, "Hello?"

"Bad time to call huh? It's Jon..." I smiled a bit and peaked over the back of the couch to see Nikki in the kitchen cooking, "I just uh...I saw MTV and-"

"Please, please don't watch it. I was really drunk last night and was acting like a total idiot. That's not how I am and I didn't mean anything I said." I explain, running my hand through my hair, grimacing when I feel it sticking together.

"I figured...they're making you seem like a bad person and I just wanted to make sure you're okay sweetheart." I hear his smile from the other side.

"I'm okay....just dealing with the repercussions. But thank you for checking in. It's really sweet of you."

"You're welcome. But hey..since I have you on the phone. I was hoping maybe we could get together soon? I had a lot of fun last time and I've been thinking about you quite some bit."

I blushed a bit, "Really? Um...yeah, I'd love to see you again. I'm free next weekend."

"That sounds good. Can I pick you up around four?"

My eyes widened, "You wanna pick me up? I can just drive to wherever."

Jon chuckles a bit, "Sixx gonna shoot me or something? Look, I'll take my chances just for you. You'll love what I have planned."

"Okay...yeah you can pick me up. My address is 7904 Palo Verde Court and the code to the gate is 666.."

I smile when Jon laughs, "How clever of him. I'll see you next Saturday Van. Don't listen to the media, it will eat you alive."

I thank him again and say my goodbyes as I put the phone back on the receiver. I go over to the plate Nikki put down as he's already eating, "Will seeing my tits make you feel better?"

"Shut up. Seeing you naked and bent over isn't going to make anything better. I'm pissed Van."

I sigh, "I know. And I'm sorry, okay? I really am. I didn't mean anything I said about the album. I like the album, it's not my favorite but I like it. You know I support everything you create."

"It didn't feel like it." I hear and see the frown and I gently reach over and touch his hand.

"I mean it Nikki. That wasn't me last night and I'm sorry I had you worried." Nikki gave my hand a squeeze before letting go.

"Let's just move past it okay? It already happened and there is no reason for us to argue about it. You said your piece and I said mine. We have time without the kid so let's just relax today." He leaned over and kissed the side of my head, "Love you..”

“I love you too.”

To whom it may concern,

My behavior and antics a few nights ago at the album release party were completely and utterly unacceptable. In no way, shape or form is that how I truly am. I was heavily under the influence and after a trip to the hospital, my blood work had an ungodly amount of Rohypnol in it. So in other words, my drink was ‘roofied’. We are working with the LAPD and the club owners to narrow down the assailant. To the boys, the band, Mötley Crüe, I have never once had any ill feelings towards anything that has been created. I have loved and cherished each album that has been put out by the band. I am extremely apologetic for anyone's feelings in and out of the band I have affected in a negative manor

Best Regards,

Vanity Blackwood

[dorki-c]

Ms. Cheshire Cat

Characters: Dabi and Reader  

A/N: Thanks for all of the support I’ve been getting! This one-shot was HEAVILY inspired by the song called ‘Feeling Good’ by Michael Buble- anyways Happy Christmas (or if you don’t celebrate Christmas, then happy holidays)! Btw, prepare yourselves for a lil bit of spice in this one-shot and remember to like, reblog, and follow me for more content!

Edit: I accidently didnt realise I spelt the title wrong XD Anyways hope you guys enjoy it otherwise!

Important note: Reader has cat ears and a teleportation quirk :D

It was the same boring day when the raven-haired man noticed his client had decided to hire another villain to work with him and the blonde gremlin- or as most people dubbed her ‘Toga’.

And if he ever said that this new recruit had made the day seem more interesting, that wouldn’t be a lie.

From that point onwards, neither of you realised that this sort of encounter would ensue many more meetings or as Toga likes to say, “lots of cheesy and gross flirting” because of the numerous times she’s walked into a room in the place of operation where either Dabi or (y/n) were roaming their lust-entranced eyes over the other person’s body.

Though once this normal day to day thing had ended when the client had no use for the crummy place. It was upsetting to say the least.

From each corner of the villain’s hideout, everyone had noticed Dabi’s change of behaviour after the mission was done and dusted. In the male’s head, he wasn’t annoyed that the job wasn’t thoroughly complete- that was Shigaraki’s reaction- but instead, with a shallow gaze down into the small shot glass swirling with the deep hazy golden-brown liquid, Dabi had thought of the many possibilities on when he could see you again.

Or how he could see you. But let’s leave those thoughts at the back of his head for now.

Throwing his head back, the burning liquid ran down his throat like the change of scenery around him.

He was no longer in the league’s hideout but instead in a largely owned villain nightclub- one that he hasn’t been to yet- although, it was only for a small errand of getting a folder of information because Twice couldn’t be bothered to get his lazy ass off the couch and additionally it would be good for him to “find other fish in the sea.”- quoted by that one marble guy (which Dabi can’t be asked to remember his name).

As minutes licked past in a slow languid fashion, the dangling golden dimmed lights strung up above the bartending station as the rambunctious gathering hole blared with music and the heavy smog of cigarette smoke.

Gripping the folder in his hand, Dabi thought to stay for a little bit. Maybe it will help him gain information on your whereabouts were, though it was difficult. Ever since Giran had informed the villain of your ‘in and out of existence’ behaviour being a normal occurrence for assassins, that still spurred him to the brink of exhaustion.

Closing his eyes when cocking his head backwards in an attempt to feel an exasperated sense of serenity in this unknown environment, when Dabi’s eyes circled in confusion at the appearance of another glass of vodka sitting cutely on top of the glossy lacquered redwood bar. It dawned upon him when the sticky warm breath of somebody’s breath tickling his pierced ear had angelically whispered “Aren’t you going to drink it?” that it was actually your voice.

“Is there poison?” Dabi muttered as two of his ten fingers grasped the clear shot glass that could’ve been mistaken to be empty if not for the reflection of the liquid inside of it. “No, baby.” Murmured (y/n) as two (e/c) cat ears flickered in anxious need for his hands to caress you once more.

“Good kitten.” He took his drink of victory, placed the glass down and leaned upwards to feel the pressure of your chest squeezing so right against taut shoulders. He didn’t care if those dangling illuminations had shined straight into his eyes because he had you locked in his grasp.

Slightly shaking hands reached up to feel the smooth texture of your ears resulting in your lungs releasing an unsteady puff of air when the atmosphere had stagnantly crumbled away in the wake of their minds resulting in (y/n) becoming lightheaded, causing the female to dip her head forward allowing her lover to please her more.

“Do you like that kitten?” She knew Dabi had a shit-eating grin on his face and she didn’t give a flying fuck. “Y-yes…” With the impossibly soft tug of the male’s fingers, when he sneakily pulled one of his hands away from your ears, he led you to a room. “Where are we going?” If it weren’t for your body being held close to his, Dabi wouldn’t have heard you.

Though he didn’t answer you.

Instead, your vision had given you the answer you needed.

Throwing yourself down onto the nightclub’s private bed, Dabi had closed and locked the door behind him.

It wasn’t long for two calloused hands to feel the familiar bumps of your pure untattered skin or have them crawl up against the smooth mesh fabric covering the majority of your body, only being held up by two thick but light weight chains of gold, where Dabi satisfyingly rests his fingers and glides his thumbs slowly down the buds of your body.

“I’m surprised,” He spoke first as (y/n)’s eyes hesitantly snapped up to meet his, “usually your feistier—” Let’s not forget how Dabi caught the narrowing of your eyes “Not like this is any bad, kitten…” Spending no time for you to give a response, he shoved his lips onto yours. Locking them in with the help of salvia, the villain spent not even a millisecond in taking those golden chains and moving them down your arms to reveal the jutted-out bones that shaped the collarbone.

Your skin was always tantalising for him to bite and mark. “T-that’s not fair…” Peeking your eyes open, the male’s outfit still remained on him as untouched as ever whereas he was slowly- most annoyingly- removing the scandalous dress that left nothing for the mind to think about.

“What’s not fair, kitten?” Under this dimmed lighting, you noted how his bright blue orbs seemed to emit some sort of glow to use as a tactic of submission. “Y-your t-teasing me…” Raising your arms upwards to wrap around the warm mounds, the slick sensation of a warm slippery organ ran itself along the thin helix of her ear where in that moment, a low chuckle bellowed out of Dabi’s throat.

“I thought you liked being teased?” All you needed to do is grab that folder and escape your lover’s grasp. Though that was proving more difficult than it was thought out to be.

The money that came with this incognito mission was something you desperately needed, but even then, what should you choose? Dabi or money? Love or wealth?

Maybe you could pick both? That’s what (y/n) thought, as she felt a warm digit press harshly against the nether regions of her body. Sure, the entrance to the forbidden cavern was blocked by expensive fishnet tights and soft cotton panties, but it doesn’t stop the slithering finger of the villain above her.

Dabi eyed the twitching ears and the flooding blood to (y/n)’s cheeks, “Kitten, you haven’t answered my question…” He also eyed the sporadic squirming of wanting some sort of release from a singular digit pressing against your body. Leaning forward to only allow your eyes to stare dead centre into his own with a hint of sobriety lingering. “Com’ on kitten,” It was only his voice that lured you into a true sense of serenity, “you don’t want to be a bad kitty, do you?”

“No, no, no, I don’t—" The words had squeaked through babbling curses as an advantage to him. “Then answer my question.” As harsh as before the separation, his actions further proved his meaning, though with that crazed pearly white smile, you weren’t sure what signal he was sending.

“I-I think. I d-do…” He simply shook his head.

“I need a clear answer—" She didn’t know at the time, but when the music in the nightclub had a bass drop hit from the band preforming as Dabi dipped his finger near her nether region- after wriggling under the cloth barrier- that was when (y/n) snapped out of her intoxicated state and teleported across the room with the folder sitting snug in her fingers grasp.

It was a surprise to Dabi. Darting his head towards the folder that was left unadministered on the side of the bed, it wasn’t there.

Instead, in the corner of his vision, there you stood; fully dressed before you entered this room and wearing a wide grin.

Jumping off the bed to get the folder out of your grasp, Dabi swiped at your illusions body. “Wrong move, baby.” Snapping his head towards the direction of Chester cat grinning lady dangling from the window by only her arms.

In a second, she was there. In another second, she disappeared.

(Y/n) was called Ms. Chester cat, for a reason.

God fucking damnit. How could he have let his horniness get the better of himself?

The next morning was another surprise.

With the throbbing of his head echoing like a traditional drum being banged against, the excuse he made to Shigaraki had been half-assed- considering he was cockblocked by his beloved kitten.

So, here he was sitting short-fused and tired. When Giran had opened the door to his working place room waving a very familiar coloured folder paired with a red stained kiss on it- Dabi may or may not have jumped to conclusions that you were playing with him.

“The fuck? You better not be playing with me, Giran.” Looming over the broker, he wasn’t impressed with whatever the fuck is going on.

Through the expression that he was receiving didn’t give him all the answers, the next sentence he heard was an impressively bold one.

“What?” Giran shrugged at Dabi, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Say thanks to your little lady next time.”

Huffing in response, Dabi gave Giran a dismissive wave.

 “Well, she is a Cheshire cat, after all.” 

Taglist:

  @orenjineki, @haredabi, @in-this-house-we-stan-izuku​, @glitterfreezed​

[infernwetrust]

To Take Care Of [Duncan Shepherd x Jim Mason] Part 1

Summary: Duncan meets Jim at a beach bar while on a business trip and the two take it from there.

Warnings: smut, mentions of drug use, swearing, fluff, angst

WC: 3.3k

A/N: Duncan Shepherd x Jim Mason has been on my mind heavy lately. I think they’re my favorite pairing as of right now. Part 1/2! Thank you for reading! -Juno

GIF by drasangel

Just landed. Let's have dinner in a couple hours? x

Jim was a smiling mess as he peered down at his phone, reading the message. It had been almost 8 months since he last saw Duncan. Since the last time he kissed him. Since the last time he tasted him. Since the last time he felt him. But that's not all Jim missed about Duncan. With Duncan, came a sense of warmth and security that Jim felt with no one else. He felt invisible when he with him.

The two had met at a beach bar almost 2 and a half years ago. Duncan was on a 2 month long business trip, stationed out in California, so a nice hotel on the beach sounded about right. And for the hell of it, Jim and his friends just wanted to get out of their houses. How could the flirt in Duncan ignore the boy with the wetsuit that glorified all his features? How could he ignore his wet hair that he shook out of his face as he took a seat at the opposite end of the bar with a group of friends. And Jim had noticed too, quickly glancing over, just to be nosey and see who was sitting at the other end of the bar. And while Jim typically didn't seek out older men, he wasn't opposed to them neither.

His eyes quickly caught Duncan's gaze, but Duncan remained un-phased, not caring that he got caught staring. He wanted Jim to know that he was staring. And Jim knew he looked good in that wetsuit, too. He gave Duncan a tempting and inviting smile, biting down on his lip before returning his attention back to his friends, but now all that Jim could see, was Duncan. His soft, but daring blue eyes. His stubble, his plump lips. The way he held his glass in his hand with confidence, sipping it as he stared him down.

Jim could still feel his eyes burning into his back, so why not give him a little show? His wetsuit was beyond uncomfortable now that he was out of the water. He stood up, stretching before peeling the top layer of his wetsuit down, letting it hang just a little bit below his waist. He remained standing, leaning against the bar as he casually continued talking to his friends, Duncan's eyes scanning every inch of him now.

He gripped his glass tighter as he took the last sip of his vodka cranberry, requesting another one from the bartender right after. He was straining against his swim trunks now and it didn't even take much. Fucking eye candy Jim was. The entire time, the two traded looks from across the bar, basically eye fucking each other. Duncan would motion time and time again for Jim to come over, but the tease Jim was, he would shake his head no, motioning towards his friends. Duncan could care less who he was with. He wanted his attention now, all of it.

All while Jim was imagining what it would feel like to have Duncan's hands all over him as he fucked him into whatever surface. He didn't even know the man's name, but he wanted to do unspeakable things to him and with him. And if the beach bar wasn't so busy, he'd probably be on his knees in the sand for Duncan right now, sucking him absolutely dry. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat he was now back in, adjusting the issue between his legs and of course Duncan noticed.

He grinned. Jim was playing so hard to get, yet he was a crumpled mess under his gaze, which turned Duncan on even more. And when Jim and his friends decided that they were tired and it was time to go, they began to leave. Jim trailed behind them, wanting to take one last glance at the attractive older man at the bar. And when he passed him, Duncan grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Room 707, surfer boy." Duncan growled. "That's if you're interested." Duncan shifted in his seat, giving Jim a good look at the took between his legs. Jim bit down on lip, blushing as Duncan released his arm, turning back around to continue his conversation that he had struck up with the bartender.

Jim thought about the offer for a long time as he sat in the room that he shared with 3 other friends and when the opportunity presented itself, Jim snuck right out. He knocked on Duncan's door, exhaling a shaky breath. He couldn't lie and say that he wasn't nervous. For all he knew this man could kill him, but was it worth the risk? Jim thought so. Duncan opened the door, hair damp, towel drooped around his waist and a water bottle in his hand. He grinned for the second time that night, excited that the surfer boy took his offer.

"Jim, is it?" Duncan asked, eyeing him in the doorway. He had picked up on his name as one of his friends obnoxiously screamed it while laughing, slapping Jim's arm as he told a joke at the bar.

"Yeah.." Jim said, struggling to maintain eye contact with the man.

"Duncan." Duncan said back, grabbing Jim by his hand and pulling him into the room, closing the door behind him. And it wasn't long before the two were going at it. Jim had that towel snatched from around Duncan's waist in seconds. Sitting on the edge of Duncan's bed, Duncan standing in front of him, he let him have his way. Jim sucked Duncan up like his life depended on it, stroking himself to the sound of Duncan's grunts and occasional sighs and moans. And when Duncan decided that he needed a cool down because he was going to fuck the shit out of, he stopped Jim and returned the favor.

Jim was a squirming mess as he came in Duncan's mouth, Duncan swallowing every single last drop of him. And when Duncan did finally fuck Jim, he fucked him into the mattress with such an intensity that Jim didn't even realize he came again, hands free because his arms were pinned above his head, until he felt a hot and sticky liquid rubbing across him every time Duncan thrusted back into him. Duncan knew though. He watched it happened and it only pulled him closer to his orgasm. And when he was on the brink, he pulled out, throwing the condom to the side, and releasing himself all over Jim's stomach and chest, Jim rubbing Duncan's thighs as encouragement.

"Just stay..." Duncan grumbled, his arm wrapped around Jim's waist as he sat up, getting ready to put his clothes back on and head back to his room.

"My friends will be wondering where I am." Jim answered, resting his arm over Duncan's.

"Your friends aren't going to suck you dry again in the morning and take you to breakfast now are they?"

"I know one of them that might." Jim joked, causing Duncan to squeeze his hip and chuckle.

"You're a funny little thing, huh? I like you, Jim."

Jim didn't need much more convincing from Duncan to spend the night with him. And as Duncan promised, he milked Jim dry the very next morning and did in fact take him to breakfast. But even then, it didn't stop there. For the duration of Jim's mini-vacation with his friends, he found himself in Duncan's room almost every other night. And when Jim and his friends checked out, Jim still made his way back to the man. Whether it be breakfast, lunch, or dinner, or simply just to keep each other company, the both of them were there.

A little summer fling that Duncan found himself more than happy in. And while he had intended to just hookup with Jim the one night, all it took was for him to sit down and have one actual conversation with him to want to do nothing else with anyone for the rest of his trip. Each day Jim taught him something new, made him come out of his hardened shell a little bit more. In the short span of 2 months, Duncan had gone to Six Flags Magic Mountain, smoked weed for the first time, and ate a magic mushroom.

Jim has never worn so many suits before Duncan, but the surfer boy didn't mind the look. It made him feel confident. He's never been inside so many fancy restaurants and bars. Duncan had him eating things he never ever thought he would eat. And while Duncan dressed up, Jim also taught him that it was okay to dress down. It was summer after all and who wants to break a sweat all the time in a suit? Added to his wardrobe was a bunch of sweat and track pants, athletic shorts, plain tees, and graphic tees.

Duncan almost was too happy. And while he's had his relationships, he's never felt an initial connection with anyone like how he did with Jim. Which is why it was going to hurt him to tell Jim that his business trip was coming to end soon and that he had to go back to D.C. He wasn't expecting it to get this far between the two of them, which is why he held off saying anything in the first place. He was so sure that was it when he took Jim to breakfast, but his thoughts were full of nothing but Jim.

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?" Jim asked Duncan as he sat on the edge of the bed in his studio apartment. Jim didn't want nor need a full one bedroom. It was just him. He had more than enough privacy and was rarely home anyways. "You leave in 5 days and you're just now telling me?"

"Because." Duncan began as he pulled his slacks back up, buttoning them. Luckily, his morning meeting was pushed to late afternoon, giving him enough time to stop by Jim's before he was occupied for the rest of the day. "Honestly, Jim. I wasn't sure. I didn't know."

"Wasn't sure? Didn't know? Of what, Duncan?"

"Wasn't sure that we would still be talking at this point. Didn't know that we would get this close over 2 months."

"If you were looking for a little summer fuck, you could of been a little bit more straight forward." Jim spat. "If I would of known, I wouldn't have, fuck, never mind. It doesn't matter. You're leaving and this'll probably be the last time we talk."

"You wouldn't have what?"

"I said it doesn't matter."

"It matters."

"I wouldn't have gotten so fucking attached to you. Is this how you do all your little flings?"

"You're not just my little fling, Jim. And I'll be honest. At first, yes, I didn't have any intention of doing anything, but, fucking you. But come on Jim, that's how all hookups go. But it doesn't have to end here. I don't look at you as just a little fling Jim. I stopped looking at you like that after a week. I like you, Jim. You've given me some of the best experiences I've ever had. I don't regret a single thing that's happened between us."

"And now you can go home and just give everything to someone else, right? Duncan how am I suppose to deal with seeing you almost everyday to not seeing you anymore? How the fuck is it suppose to work?"

"We are in two different time zones. You're on the other side of the map, Duncan." Jim continued. "Tell me. How are we gonna make it work?"

"You're only 3 hours behind me. We'll call, text, video chat, whatever it takes. Besides, business trips to California for my company are more common than you think. And I wish you would stop being so one sided."

"How am I being one-sided?"

"You knew exactly what I wanted when you sat down at the beach bar 2 months ago. You undressed me with your eyes as I did you. I gave you a choice. You didn't have to come to my room, but you did. So at one point, I was your little summer fuck too." And that shut Jim right up. He sighed, running his hand through his hair as he simply just looked at Duncan, speechless.

"Look." Duncan, continued, throwing his button-up on. "I'll make time for you, Jim. I'll come visit you, business trip or not. And if you're up to it, maybe one day you'll come visit me in D.C. too. But that's only if you want to keep seeing me after I leave."

"I don't know right now."  Jim answered truthfully. "It's hard for me to make another choice. It's hard when for 2 months you spend the entire time getting to know someone you think you might have a chance with and then you learn that he won't always be around." Duncan huffed, scratching the back of his head.

"Then don't make a decision right now. You don't even have to make one before I leave." Duncan finished putting the rest of his clothes on before walking over to the edge of the bed where Jim sat. "The choice is always going to be yours. I'm just glad I got to spend a summer not just doing business. I'm glad I got to spend a summer with someone who actually makes me happy. And I know it's sucks that I have to leave and I'm sorry if that's hurting you, but I promise Jim, you're not just a quick summer fling to me. Not anymore."

Duncan scanned Jim's eyes for any sort of emotion or response, but he couldn't pick up on any. He gave Jim a few minutes and when Jim still didn't give him an answer, Duncan simply cupped his cheek and kissed him on his forehead.

"Take care of yourself, Jim." was the last thing Duncan said to him before leaving his apartment for his scheduled business meeting that day.

For the next 4 days, Duncan and Jim did not speak. But they would be fools to say that they constantly weren't thinking about each other and what the other was doing. Jim was the first one to break. Duncan was a man of his word and when he said he wasn't going to pressure Jim, he meant that, but was he elated when he phone lit up the night before he was suppose to leave the next day and Jim's name appeared across the screen. Jim was asking Duncan if he could come spend his last night with him in his hotel room and of course Duncan wasn't going to say no. They had sex for what would be the last time for the next 4 months before Duncan could come back to California, the both of them giving it their all.

"Remember." Duncan said as he loaded up the last of his luggage into his rental car, Jim leaning on his car that was parked next to Duncan's. "This doesn't have to end here."

"I know." Jim said, lowly. Duncan walked over to him, giving him a soft kiss on the lips before pulling him into a hug.

"I'll text you as soon as I get home, okay?"

"Okay."

Jim had his doubts after Duncan left, but Duncan was always quick to reassure Jim that things would never change. The occasional argument came, but that was only because Jim couldn't stand to be away from Duncan for such long stretches at a time.

But that was then. And this is now. And all the doubts that Jim had, for the most part, were gone. He quickly shot Duncan a reply that read,

Did you even have to ask?

He closed his messages, staring at his Home Screen picture. Jim sat, cradling Duncan's lap, while Duncan leaned back in his office chair, shirt undone just enough so you could see the scratches Jim left behind. Jim has his hand placed just below the scratches. Duncan seductively smiles at the camera, biting down on his lip. This picture was one of Jim's favorites because it was the first time he had ever visited D.C., Duncan flying him out. And then there was his Lock Screen, his absolute favorite. Him and Duncan stand together on a boardwalk, colorful lights and a beautiful body of water behind them. Duncan has his arm around Jim's shoulder and Jim has his arm around Duncan's waist. Duncan presses a warm kiss on Jim's temple as Jim, almost teary-eyed, smiles at the camera.

That picture was taken a year ago. That was the day that the two became official. That was the day that Duncan told Jim that he loved him and that he was in love with him. Excited, Jim got up and took a shower. He spent the rest of the evening picking out what he was going to wear. Dress shirt after dress shirt, he couldn't decide on a color, so he kept it traditional, but fitted, so that it hugged every inch of his body for Duncan to see. White dress shirt, black slacks, black suit jacket, and the prettiest fucking black dress shoes you could lay your eyes on.

He sat on his couch, leg nervously tapping away as he waited for Duncan. And when his door bell rang, he couldn't get up fast enough, almost spilling his water on his nice suit. When he swung his door open, he was so excited to see than man before him that he didn't even realize how under dressed he was. Duncan was wearing a pair of blue adidas track pants, ans a blue adidas sweatshirt.

"Fuck..." Duncan mumbled as he looked Jim up and down, setting the grocery bags down on the floor. Jim was still trying to find the words to say as he smiled “Mr. Mason if this is the route you were trying to go, why didn't you let me know?"

"Huh?" Jim said snapping out of his trance, realizing how over dressed he was. "Oh. I thought you said we were having dinner? Wait, having, not going to, fuck." Jim reached for some of bags Duncan had, helping him set them down in the kitchen.

"I spent all evening trying to figure out what to wear for you and this is all I could come up with."

"You did all that for me?"

"Yeah, but I'm going to go take it off now and come cook with you."

"No. Keep it on."

"Dunc, pleaseeeee. Can I at least take off the suit jacket? It's a little tight."

"Fine, but the suit jacket oh and the tie, and loosen a few buttons. Actually, c'mere." Jim hurried over to Duncan, who quickly pulled him into a passionate kiss that screamed nothing, but I love you and I've missed you. Duncan gripped Jim's hips, pulling him closer to him and deepening the kiss. Jim's hands made their way up to Duncan's face, cupping his cheeks as he bit down on Duncan's bottom lip, causing him to let out a stifled moan, prompting Jim to slide his tongue inside his mouth. Duncan didn't put up much of a fight, missing his Jim too much. He wanted whatever Jim did.

The two pulled away, attempting to catch their breaths, foreheads resting against one another's. They touched noses as their breathing evened out. Duncan grabbed onto Jim's wrist, rubbing his thumb across the back of his hand as it still gripped his cheek.

"Welcome home, Dunc."

"Feels s'good to be home, Jim."

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid @9layerdevilfoodcake  @xavierplympton @guiltyfiend @theneverendinghunger​