#Challenging Winding Up Petitions

[lexlawuk]

Companies Winding Up Cause List (11 December 2024)

ROLLS BUILDING BEFORE CHIEF INSOLVENCY AND COMPANIES COURT JUDGE BARBER List updated: 10 December 2024 1:45pm JudgeTimeVenueTypeCase numberCase nameInsolvency and Companies Court Judge Barber10:30amRolls Building, Court 1Winding up petitionsCR-2024-001477Rosney Joinery Contractors LtdInsolvency and Companies Court Judge Barber10:30amRolls Building, Court 1Winding up petitionsCR-2024-001702Big…

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Timid Flames

Summary - In a politically arranged marriage, they unexpectedly find solace in each other. As they navigate the storm of familial conflict, a night of celebration reveals desires and bravery, challenging the bounds of their union and the roles they play in a dangerous game of power.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2759

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon had only been wed for three moons—a union born out of political necessity, carefully arranged to forge a fragile peace. 

The bride, Alicent Hightower's youngest daughter, had been offered as part of King Viserys's latest attempt to mend the rift tearing apart his divided family. 

After the bitter fallout from the petition for Driftmark, this marriage had been the king's insistence, hoping it might soothe the growing tensions.

Surprisingly, the match had not been as cold and distant as some feared. 

In fact, much to Jace's amusement, our marriage had become rather... agreeable. 

Unlike my more impulsive and outspoken brothers, I shared Jace's temperament—thoughtful, measured, and often preferring quiet contemplation over conflict. 

This similarity made it easy for us to find common ground, and more often than not, we ended up agreeing with one another on most matters.

Jace, though shy at times, had grown fond of me quicker than he expected. In quiet moments, when he allowed himself to reflect on our marriage, he felt grateful. 

"You know," he once remarked with a soft chuckle as we shared a private dinner in Dragonstone, "I expected our union to be just another duty. But it hasn't felt like that at all." 

He reached across the table, lightly clasping my hand. "I enjoy this... us."

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. "As do I. It's strange, isn't it? To be at ease in a marriage forged by others."

We were now bound for King's Landing, a return prompted by the upcoming wedding of my elder brother, Aemond. 

Though I could sense Jace and his brothers were not particularly eager to make the journey back to the capital so soon after leaving it, I longed to see my family again. 

I missed them—Helaena most of all, with her gentle spirit and enigmatic ways.

Standing at the ship's edge, I watched the shimmering blue waters stretch out before us, occasionally lifting my gaze to the sky. 

There, Silverwing, Vermax, and Arrax flew overhead, their gleeful screeches piercing the air as they relished the freedom of the open skies. The sight of the dragons always stirred something in me—a mix of awe and pride.

"Are you happy to be returning?" Jace's voice came from behind me, softer than the wind that tugged at our hair. 

I turned to find him watching me with that familiar, shy look on his face. I nodded, sighing with contentment.

"I am," I said, offering him a small smile before glancing down. "I apologize if you're not."

Jace shook his head and joined me at the railing, his shoulder brushing against mine as he leaned beside me. 

His fingers, warm and calloused from dragon riding, lightly grazed mine, sending a wave of warmth rushing through me.

"I'm fine," he assured me, though I could sense the faint unease in his tone. "It's Luke who's not faring well with the journey." 

He nodded towards his younger brother, who stood further down the ship's deck, looking paler than usual, his face scrunched with discomfort.

I chuckled softly. "Poor Luke."

Jace smiled at that, but there was a quietness between us now, a lingering tension not easily dismissed. 

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

The grand hall of the Keep was filled with the sound of music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets as the celebrations for Aemond's wedding reached full swing. 

My brother looked every bit the proud groom, standing tall with his new bride by his side, but my focus wasn't on him. 

Instead, I was hyper-aware of the tension swirling around Jace and Luke, who sat beside me at our family's table, enduring a barrage of thinly veiled insults from my brothers.

Aegon, as usual, was at the centre of it, his words dipped in honeyed sarcasm as he spoke just loud enough for all of us to hear.

"How's the sea voyage treating you these days, Luke? Not planning on visiting Driftmark anytime soon, I hope," Aegon remarked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

The implication was clear—he was deliberately fanning the flames of the bitter conflict over Driftmark's succession, each word dripping with sarcasm designed to ignite tempers and deepen rifts, a cruel game that felt all too familiar.

Luke's jaw tightened, but he kept his eyes fixed on his plate, refusing to rise to the bait.

Jace, seated beside him, wasn't faring much better. He sat rigid, his shoulders tense, clearly biting his tongue to keep from responding.

"Must be difficult, sharing the same roof with those who think you don't belong," Aegon continued, his grin widening as he lifted his goblet to his lips.

I shot a sharp glance at Aegon, my irritation bubbling beneath the surface. 

Helaena, seated to my left, tried to offer me a reassuring smile, but even her calming presence wasn't enough to quell the frustration building inside me. I hated this constant tension, this incessant prodding from my brothers, who refused to let old wounds heal.

To drown out their jabs, I did the only thing I could think of at the moment, I reached for my goblet and took a deep sip of the rich wine. 

The warmth spread quickly through my body, dulling the edge of Aegon's words.

But one sip wasn't enough.

As the evening dragged on and the taunts kept coming—Aemond, more subtle but no less pointed in his barbed remarks—I found myself reaching for the goblet again and again, the wine a welcome escape. 

It made everything seem a little softer, a little less sharp. Even Jace, who sat brooding beside me, looked more relaxed in the golden glow of the torchlight as the alcohol dulled my senses.

By the time the feast was at its height, I was no longer just drinking to forget. I was enjoying the lightness in my limbs, the freedom of inhibition. 

The wine had worked its magic, and I found myself smiling at Jace—really smiling, more freely than I had in moons.

"You're too tense," I teased, my voice soft and slightly slurred as I leaned toward him with a grin. 

My fingers toyed with the rim of my goblet as I looked at him with a mischievous glint in my eyes.

Jace blinked, clearly taken aback by my sudden shift in demeanour. His eyes widened, and I saw a flush creep up his neck. 

He wasn't used to this—me, this playful, open side of myself that rarely came out. 

Normally, I was thoughtful and composed, matching his temperament. But tonight, I felt like throwing caution to the wind.

"Relax a little, husband," I whispered, leaning closer than I normally would, my lips grazing the shell of his ear as I spoke. 

My hand drifted lazily to his arm, fingers trailing along the fabric of his sleeve. "We're at a wedding. Let yourself enjoy it."

Jace stiffened, his entire body going rigid as he struggled to process what was happening. He wasn't accustomed to this kind of open flirtation from me, and certainly not in public. 

His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink, and he swallowed hard, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape.

"I—uh, I'm fine," he stammered, though his voice betrayed him. He sounded anything but fine. His face was a mix of confusion, surprise, and something else I couldn't quite place.

I laughed softly, delighted at his reaction. It was rare to see Jace flustered, but here he was—blushing, his carefully composed demeanour slipping with each teasing word I threw his way. 

 The way he tried so hard to remain serious only made it more fun.

"No, you're not," I teased again, my voice taking on a singsong quality as I leaned even closer, my breath warm against his ear. "You're all stiff and serious. You should loosen up a bit."

Jace's gaze flickered to the goblet in my hand, his concern growing. "I think you've had enough," he said gently, his fingers brushing against mine as he tried to take the goblet from me.

But I wasn't having it. I laughed, pulling the goblet back with a grin. 

"Don't be such a bore, Jace," I teased, the wine making me bolder than I'd ever been. "Don't tell me what to do, not when I'm having so much fun."

The way his face flushed deeper and his eyes widened at the playful lilt of my voice sent a thrill through me. 

For a moment, I forgot about the barbed comments from Aegon and Aemond, the lingering tension in the room. 

All I cared about was the way Jace was looking at me—flustered, surprised, and just a little bit helpless.

"I—I think you should rest," Jace tried again, his voice now tinged with nervous laughter. He was still trying to be the responsible one, the composed husband. 

But his usual control was slipping, and I could see the internal struggle in his eyes.

Instead of listening, I giggled and leaned even closer, letting my fingers dance up his arm. "Or..." I purred, a wicked smile curling my lips, "maybe you should dance with me."

Before Jace could protest, I was on my feet, pulling him up with me. He let out a startled laugh as I dragged him onto the dance floor, his hand clasped tightly in mine. 

His surprise was clear, but I was already spinning him into the centre of the hall, the music and wine making my movements feel light and carefree.

"Wait—what—" Jace stammered, completely caught off guard. He stumbled slightly as I twirled him, clearly not expecting me to take the lead so boldly. 

His eyes darted around the room, and I could see the mix of amusement and mortification on his face.

The people around us watched with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement, but I barely noticed. 

All I could focus on was Jace—how out of sorts he was, how flustered he looked, and how much fun it was to see him like this.

"I think I'm going to regret this," Jace muttered under his breath, though there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

He looked at me with a mixture of exasperation and affection, clearly at a loss for how to handle this version of me.

"Not if you have fun," I whispered, pulling him close as the music swelled. 

The wine had made me bold, and I relished the way he seemed to falter under my touch. For once, Jace was the one who couldn't keep his composure.

As the night wore on, I continued to flirt, to tease, to dance. Jace was a blushing mess by the end of it, his usual stoic demeanour completely shattered.

He loved the extra attention—I could tell by the way he kept stealing glances at me, his eyes lingering just a bit too long, his lips twitching into an almost smile every time I laughed or teased him.

Even though he tried to be the responsible one, I knew he secretly enjoyed it—the way I made him feel tonight, how I drew him out of his shell. 

"Are you even trying to enjoy yourself?" I teased, glancing up at Jace as I pulled him onto the dance floor once again.

He gave me a small, shy smile, his hand resting on the small of my back as he followed my lead. 

"I am. Just... keeping an eye on you," he said gently, though I could sense his amusement beneath the worry.

"Keeping an eye on me? I'm your wife, not some unruly dragon," I said with a smirk, spinning away from him with a playful twirl. 

He caught me again, steadying me with the ease of someone well-practised in handling situations beyond his control. 

I leaned in closer, speaking just loud enough for him to hear, "But I like it when you watch me."

Jace's blush was immediate, his gaze dropping for a brief moment before he met my eyes again. He looked as if he wanted to say something—something meaningful—but just then, a familiar voice interrupted us.

"Seems you've had quite a bit of wine tonight," a deep, smooth voice said from behind me.

I turned, finding myself face-to-face with Lord Ormund Hightower, one of my distant cousins on my mother's side. His smile was easy, but there was something in his gaze that felt too familiar, too lingering as it settled on me.

"Perhaps," I replied, trying to maintain my composure as I felt his eyes linger a bit too long. "But it's a wedding. Surely a bit of wine and dancing is expected."

"Of course, princess," Lord Ormund said with a chuckle, his gaze sliding between Jace and me. 

"Though one might say your enthusiasm tonight stands out." His tone was light, but the implication was clear. 

His gaze flicked back to me, lingering in a way that made me uncomfortable, a hint of something more than politeness in his look. "I didn't realize you were so... spirited."

Jace's expression shifted beside me, his dark eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He moved closer, his hand settling protectively at my waist, but still, he said nothing.

"Spirited, perhaps," I said, trying to brush off the comment with a smile. "But no more than any other on a night like this."

Lord Ormund gave a slow nod, his gaze lingering on me a beat longer before he added, "It's good to see you enjoying yourself. Though, if you're not careful, some might get the wrong impression of your... exuberance." 

His smile widened, a teasing glint in his eye. "Not everyone will see it as harmless fun."

Before I could react, Jace stepped forward, his posture straight and his tone steady, but there was an unmistakable edge to his voice.

"I think you've made your point, my lord," Jace said calmly, though his grip on my waist tightened ever so slightly. "And it's noted. But I would remind you that my wife's behaviour is of no concern to anyone here, except perhaps me."

The subtle warning in his voice wasn't lost on Lord Ormund, who raised his hands in mock surrender, the smile never leaving his face. 

"No offence meant, Prince Jacaerys. Merely a friendly observation."

Jace's gaze didn't waver, his expression unyielding. "Of course. But observations, when unnecessary, can sometimes be mistaken for something else." 

His voice remained level, but there was a quiet protectiveness in his tone that made it clear the conversation was over.

Lord Ormund hesitated, then gave a slight bow. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, both of you," he said before turning on his heel and walking away, though I could feel the weight of his gaze still lingering behind him.

As soon as Lord Ormund was out of earshot, I turned to Jace, my heart pounding not from fear but from the rush of the moment. I wasn't used to seeing him like this—so firm, so sure of himself. 

There was something deeply reassuring in the way he had stepped in, calmly but assertively.

"You didn't have to do that," I said softly, though I couldn't deny the warmth spreading through my chest.

Jace met my gaze, the tension in his expression softening now that we were alone again. "Yes, I did," he replied simply. "You shouldn't have to put up with that. Especially not from him."

I looked at him for a long moment, taking in the way his jaw was still set, the way his hand remained at my waist as if he wasn't quite ready to let go. 

His protectiveness stirred something deep within me—a mixture of gratitude and something else, something more intense.

"You don't usually speak up like that," I said, a teasing smile tugging at my lips. "I rather like it."

Jace looked slightly embarrassed, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

"Someone has to look out for you, especially when you seem determined to cause a scene," he said, though his tone was light, playful.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "Perhaps I'm more trouble than you bargained for."

Jace's smile grew, and this time, it was genuine and warm, the blush fading from his cheeks as his confidence returned. 

"I knew what I was getting into. And, if I'm being honest, I don't mind it."

The confession, quiet and simple, hung in the air between us. It wasn't grand or dramatic, but it meant something. Jace didn't just tolerate my boldness tonight—he liked it. 

He liked me, in all my messiness and unpredictability.

For the rest of the night, his hand remained at my waist, steady and reassuring, a quiet but constant reminder that I wasn't alone.

That no matter what happened, Jace would always be there, standing by my side, ready to protect me from whatever—or whomever—tried to push me too far.

A/n - I need to stop with the marriage of convenience trope x

[insomniac4000]

Three Peaks-ChrisMD

I had to write this after the video yesterday despite having some requests still in and writing a Charity match fic....

The brisk morning air bit at Chris’s cheeks as he tightened the straps on his hiking backpack. Standing in the shadow of Ben Nevis, the highest peak in Scotland, the mountain loomed like a gray giant, its summit lost in a wisp of cloud. Chris had his hands clasped in front of him as he always did when he did the introductions to his video, addressing the camera ready to capture the beginning of what he hoped would be one of his second channel’s most ambitious videos yet. He was slightly nervous as it was a shift from his usual football content.

“Alright, lads and lady,” Chris called, spinning to face the group with his usual boyish grin. “Let’s get the obligatory intro out of the way before we regret ever agreeing to this.”

“That’s just every ChrisMD video ever,” ArthurTV clapped back causing laughs and jeers from the group, the group being; Harry Lewis who had already taken the role of morale officer, cracking jokes about the group’s preparedness—or lack thereof. Arthur Hill, visibly unsure about what he’d signed up for, leaned heavily on his walking poles, a sheepish smile on his face. ArthurTV and George Clarkeey exchanged knowing glances, already anticipating chaos. ReevHD was characteristically quiet, scanning the trail ahead with determination like he did with every challenge.

And then there was Y/n.

Chris tried not to let his gaze linger on her, but it was impossible not to notice how effortlessly she seemed to fit into the moment. At 5'2", she was dwarfed by the towering peaks around them, but her petite frame radiated confidence. Her auburn curls were tied up in a high pony tail but already a slight bit of frizz was poking out from the tie, showing her imperfections she embarced and her hazel eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and mischief.

“Ready to prove short people can climb mountains too?” Y/n teased, catching Chris’s eye.

“Short people?” Harry cut in with mock horror. “You and Chris barely make one normal-sized person!”

The others burst into laughter as Chris groaned. “Here we go,” he muttered, though he couldn’t help but smile.

“Team Hobbit in full force,” George added, slinging an arm around Chris’s shoulders. “Shire squad, reporting for duty.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but played along, giving Chris a playful nudge. “Come on, Frodo, let’s show them how it’s done.”

The group set off, their boots crunching against the ground. The first leg of the journey was deceptively easy, winding through forests and open meadows. Chris found himself falling into step beside Y/n, their conversation flowing as naturally as the babbling brooks they passed.

“This should be a doddle for you considering your videos,” Chris said, stealing a sideways glance at her. “Any near-death experiences you haven’t told me about yet?”

Y/n chuckled, adjusting her backpack. “Oh, plenty. But I’ll save those stories for when we’re at the summit. You know, motivation to keep climbing.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Chris replied, his smile lingering.

Behind them, Harry and George were already trying to outpace each other, their competitive streaks on full display. Arthur Hill lagged slightly, his breath coming in short gasps.

“You alright back there, Arthur?” Reev called, slowing his pace to check on him.

“Still alive,” Arthur wheezed, earning a round of good-natured laughs.

As the group ascended, the trail grew steeper and more rugged, rocks jutted out at awkward angles.Y/n, used to navigating tricky terrain from her travels, moved with practiced ease, her short legs propelling her upward with surprising speed.

“Alright, we get it,” George said, feigning exasperation as Y/n waited for the rest of them at a particularly steep section. “You’re secretly a mountain goat.”

“Just embrace your inner hobbit,” Y/n shot back, grinning.

“Speaking of hobbits,” Harry said, glancing at Chris, “you keeping up, mate? Or do we need to carry you?”

“Funny,” Chris replied, though he was grateful for the excuse to slow his pace. Y/n waited for him, her expression softening.

“You’re doing great,” she said quietly, her voice carrying only to him.

Chris felt his chest tighten, but he pushed the feeling aside. “Thanks,” he managed, giving her a small smile.

By the time they reached the halfway point, the group was a mix of exhilaration and exhaustion. They paused to refuel, pulling out energy bars and water bottles. The wind whipped around them, colder and more insistent as they climbed higher.

Arthur Hill collapsed onto a rock, his face red but determined. “This is... definitely harder than I thought,” he admitted between gulps of water.

“You’re doing better than I expected,” Y/n encouraged, earning a grateful smile from him.

The teasing eased for a while as the group focused on the gruelling climb. The summit felt tantalizingly close yet maddeningly out of reach as the trail grew steeper and the air thinner. Y/n took the lead, her smaller frame navigating the rocky terrain with agility that left the others scrambling to keep up.

Chris stayed close behind her, his own shorter stature making the climb a little easier compared to the taller guys, who were visibly struggling.

“Bet you’re glad to have another hobbit around now,” Y/n teased over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion.

Chris laughed, shaking his head. “Never thought I’d say this, but yeah, maybe it’s not so bad.”

The summit finally came into view, on a good day it probably would have been an incredible view but the British weather was typical and as the group had looked out all they could see was fog. Still though, this was the tallest peak and they were at the top.

“We did it!” Harry yelled, throwing his arms in the air.

Y/n grinned, pulling out her camera to capture the moment. She turned it toward Chris, who was leaning on his trekking pole, looking both exhilarated and exhausted.

“How does it feel to conquer peak one?” she asked, the camera trained on him.

“Cold,” Chris deadpanned, earning a laugh from the group.

They spent a few precious minutes taking in the view, snapping photos, and catching their breath. But the celebration was short-lived as Chris checked his watch.

“We’re behind schedule,” he announced, his tone regretful. “We’ve got to get moving if we’re going to stay on track.”

As they began their descent, the mood remained light despite the ticking clock. The banter continued, with the group teasing Arthur Hill for his earlier struggles and Chris and Y/n for their so-called “hobbit couple” status.

Chris found himself walking beside Y/n again, their shoulders brushing as they navigated the narrow trail.

“Think we’ll survive the next two peaks?” he asked, his tone half-joking.

Y/n glanced at him, her hazel eyes warm. “If you stick with me, Frodo, I think we’ll be alright.”

Chris felt a flicker of hope, small but persistent, that maybe, just maybe, this challenge would lead to more than just a great video.

As the group reached the base of Ben Nevis and prepared to drive to Scafell Pike, the teasing continued, but so did the camaraderie. And for Chris, the chemistry he felt with Y/n was becoming harder to ignore.

Chris adjusted the camera, framing himself in the shadow of Scafell Pike, the tallest mountain in England. The crisp afternoon sunlight bathed the rolling hills of the Lake District, a stark contrast to the biting wind they had endured on Ben Nevis.

"Alright, peak two," Chris’s voiceover rang out. “Quick update: we’ve just finished a very cosy van ride—by cosy, I mean crammed—with practically no leg room. But that wasn’t a problem for two of the members of the group.”

The screen then filled with a picture of Chris and Y/n squeezed into a corner of the van, her head resting sleepily on his shoulder while they both grinned. Their legs, stretched toward the camera, showed just how much space the pair had, still having some room to swing their smaller legs, in stark contrast to the rest of the group.

The video then continued and now it showed the group gathered around, fastening their jackets and strapping on their backpacks. Harry stretched dramatically, groaning about his sore legs, while George filmed Arthur Hill struggling to zip his jacket.

"You alright there, mate?" George teased.

"Not really," Arthur Hill admitted, but his grin betrayed his determination to keep going.

As they started the climb, the monumental task settled on everyone once again, time was ticking away from them. The steep incline and rocky path demanded focus, and the chatter from the Ben Nevis climb faded into heavy breaths and occasional bursts of laughter. Y/n, as usual, took the lead, her smaller frame navigating the terrain with ease. Chris stuck close to her, their steps often falling into sync.

It wasn’t long until Arthur Hill faltered, wincing as he leaned against his trekking pole.

"Hold up," Reev called, motioning for the group to stop. "Arthur, you good?"

Arthur shook his head. "I’ve got an old injury and it was worse yesterday, I work up this morning thinking that I was okay but it’s really not good at all,” the musician whined a little, he was well aware he was the one who was slowing everyone down and he was in a considering amount of pain now too.

The group exchanged concerned glances.

"Are you going to sit this one out?" Chris said gently, resting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

Arthur hesitated, his face a mix of frustration and relief. "Yeah, I think I have to."

They helped him set up a small camp just off the path, ensuring he had water, snacks, and a comfortable spot to rest.

"Don’t worry about me," Arthur said, waving them off. "I’ll cheer you on from here. Just make sure to take loads of embarrassing photos for me to miss out on."

With a final round of reassurances, the group continued upward, joking at Arthur’s position as he laid still on the grass by a rock. As the group continued the summit grew closer with every step. Chris felt his chest tighten, but this time it wasn’t just the exertion.

His parents were waiting at the top.

They had moved to the Lake District from Jersey recently, and while he loved seeing them, introducing them to his friends—especially Y/n—brought a mix of excitement and nerves.

As they reached the peak George and ArthurTV tried to lighten the mood and keep morale up by making jokes about Chris’s mother.

When the group finally crested the summit, they were greeted by Chris’s mum and dad, both bundled in warm coats and waving enthusiastically.

Harry and ArthurTV greeted Chris’s parents like old friends, their laughter and inside jokes echoing across the mountaintop. Y/n, however, hung back, fidgeting with her gloves wondering why she felt so nervous, Chris was only a friend.

Chris noticed and leaned closer to her. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Y/n said quickly, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I just… don’t want to make a bad impression."

Chris chuckled. "You’ve got nothing to worry about. They’ll love you."

As if to prove his point, his mum approached Y/n with open arms. "You must be Y/n," she said warmly. "Chris has told us so much about you."

Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she returned the hug. "All good things, I hope."

"Of course," Chris’s mum replied with a wink.

To Y/n’s relief, the conversation flowed naturally. She found herself laughing with Chris’s parents, sharing stories about her travels and listening to tales from their new life in the Lake District.

"You’ve got a good group here," Chris’s dad said, clapping him on the back.

"The best," Chris agreed, his gaze flicking to Y/n.

After a round of photos and a quick snack break, they began their descent. The steep path required concentration, but Chris took the opportunity to start a conversation he’d been mulling over for weeks.

The voiceover took over again, this time the tone changing to a more serious one as Chris explained he wanted to do more videos talking about mental health he explained his struggles with anxiety for years, ruminating thoughts, intrusive stuff but also what had helped him try and get through it so he was now in a much better place. One by one he spoke to each of his friends about mental health, opening up to each other and it was a change of pace from their usual jokes and banter.

Y/n was someone who had also been very opened about her mental health and their conversation could have lasted for days.

Y/n, walking beside Chris, glanced at him thoughtfully. "How different is it for men, though?" she asked. "I mean, society’s expectations and all that."

Chris paused, considering her question. "It’s hard. There’s this pressure to be… strong, or like, unemotional. But that’s changing. Slowly. What about you? You’ve been really open about your journey, haven’t you?"

Y/n nodded, adjusting her grip on her trekking pole. "I try to be. It’s not easy, though. There’s still so much stigma. But I think the more we talk about it, the more we help people feel less alone."

Chris smiled at her. "You’ve helped me, you know. Just by being so honest."

Y/n’s cheeks turned pink, and she looked away. "You’ve helped me too."

Their conversation was interrupted when Y/n’s foot slipped on a loose rock. She gasped, her arms flailing, but Chris caught her hand just in time.

"You alright?" he asked, steadying her.

"Yeah, just my dignity taking a hit," she said, laughing as she regained her balance.

Chris didn’t let go of her hand right away, and when he did, it was with a lingering warmth that neither of them acknowledged.

The rest of the descent was filled with lighter conversations, the group joking about their shared exhaustion and Arthur Hill’s missed summit.

As they reached the base of Scafell Pike, Chris felt a renewed sense of purpose. Two peaks down, one to go. They had decided that twenty four hours was now long gone but they were going to enjoy the journey for what it is.

The glow of determination fueled the group as they loaded into the van, but the energy from the morning had shifted. Arthur Hill, sitting on a bench with his leg propped up and wrapped in a bandage, waved them off with Harry by his side.

"Be safe!" Arthur called. "And don’t forget to take a victory photo at the top of Snowdon—preferably one where Jamie doesn’t look like he’s about to pass out!"

Jamie, who had also been struggling a little shot him a mock glare.

With the group a little smaller now, the drive to Snowdonia was quieter. Chris glanced back at Y/n, who had claimed the backseat corner. Her head leaned against the window, her auburn curls falling softly over her face as she watched the scenery blur into darkness.

“You alright back there, Y/n?” Chris asked, his voice low.

She turned and smiled, though it was softer than usual. “Yeah, just thinking about how this’ll feel tomorrow when my legs refuse to work.”

The van erupted into knowing laughter.

 “This isn’t about the time,” Chris said as they stretched at the base of the mountain, the cold night air biting at their exposed skin. “It’s about finishing what we started.”

Y/n gave him an approving nod. “That’s what it’s all about. Let’s do it.”

The climb up Snowdon was quieter than the others, the fatigue settling deep in their muscles. The darkness added a layer of challenge, with headlamps and flashlights casting eerie shadows across the rocky path.

“Watch your step,” Reev warned as they navigated a narrow ridge.

There were a few stumbles—George slipping onto his hands and knees, ArthurTV catching himself on a low rock—but no injuries. Every so often, the group paused, catching their breath and sipping water, their chatter growing lighter with every stop.

At last, the summit came into view. The cold wind whipped around them as they reached the peak, and for a moment, no one said a word.

Then Reev broke the silence. “We actually did it.”

“Almost,” Chris corrected. “We still have to get down.”

“Oh, don’t ruin the moment,” Y/n teased, nudging him lightly.

The group broke into hugs, laughing through their exhaustion as they celebrated. Chris lingered in Y/n’s embrace, feeling the warmth of her against the cold air.

Someone snapped a photo, capturing their silhouettes against the starry sky.

The descent was slow and careful especially as night was falling now and torches were failing. The rocks, slick with evening dew, made each step treacherous. Y/n stuck close to Chris, their headlamps bobbing in unison as they navigated the terrain.

“I don’t know how you talked me into this,” Y/n joked, her voice hushed in the quiet of the night.

“You’re the challenge queen,” Chris replied. “I thought this would be your idea of fun.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I usually have better planning, fewer risks of breaking an ankle in the dark.”

Chris smiled but noticed her pensive expression. “You okay?”

Y/n hesitated before answering. “Yeah. I just… I’ve been thinking a lot on this trip. About where I’m going, what I want. It’s hard not to when you’re staring down mountains, you know?”

“I get that,” Chris said, his voice thoughtful. “Climbing a mountain does have a way of putting things in perspective.”

They walked in silence for a moment before Y/n continued. “I’ve been doing YouTube for over a decade. I love it, but sometimes I wonder if I’m just… running away from things by traveling so much. Like, maybe if I stop, I’ll have to face everything I’ve been avoiding.”

Chris’s chest tightened at her honesty. “I don’t think you’re running away,” he said softly. “I think you’re just searching for what makes you happy. And that’s not a bad thing.”

Y/n looked at him, her hazel eyes reflecting the beam of his headlamp. “You really think that?”

“Yeah, I do,” Chris replied. “You’ve inspired so many people—including me. You’ve got this way of making even the toughest situations seem like an adventure.”

Y/n smiled, a genuine, heartfelt expression that made Chris’s stomach flip. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot.”

They walked a little further before Y/n asked, “What about you? What are you searching for?”

Chris exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I’ve spent so much time focusing on work, on videos, that I’ve kind of lost sight of what’s next. But being here, with you guys, it reminds me of what’s important. It’s not just about the videos or the views—it’s about the connections we make along the way.”

Y/n reached out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s a good answer.”

Chris chuckled, his heart racing at the contact. “Glad you approve.”

As they continued down the mountain, Chris couldn’t help but glance at Y/n every so often. She looked tired but content, her curls glowing faintly in the moonlight. Chris couldn’t help but think this trip was very special for a multitude for reasons.

In the comments, viewers had plenty to say.

“Y/n and Chris definitely have something going on. The chemistry is undeniable!” “Chris catching Y/n when she slipped? Literal couple goals.” “The ‘hobbit couple’ strikes again! Just admit you’re perfect for each other already.” “Loved the mental health chat. So important to hear men like Chris opening up. Thanks for this, mate.”

Chris scrolled through the comments later that night, a smile tugging at his lips. He glanced at his phone, debating whether to message Y/n.

Before he could decide, his phone buzzed with a message from her.

Y/n: “Can’t believe we actually did it. Thanks for being my rock on the trip. (Haha get it?) 😊”

Chris grinned, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing a response.

Chris: “That was awful, but really couldn’t have done it without you. Hobbit squad for life. 🏔️”

Chris bit his lip as he then typed out the message “Dinner?” three times before deleting it each time. Something had changed in him one day but was he ready for another challenge?

[atinyslittleworld]

Size doesn’t matter

mingi x f!reader ft. ateez

Summary: Mingi’s tiny girlfriend drives expertly his massive SUV, saving Ateez from a chaotic road trip, proving that size doesn’t matter in driving

Word Count: 753

Genre: humour

Warnings: none

Mingi, the tallest and most confident member of ATEEZ, was proud of his massive SUV. It was as grand and imposing as he was. However, his driving skills were... not exactly up to par. His girlfriend, Y/N, though petite, had an uncanny talent for driving the beast of a vehicle with grace and precision.

One sunny afternoon, Mingi decided to take his girlfriend and bandmates—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Wooyoung, and Jongho—on a road trip to the beach. The plan was simple: get there, have fun, and return before sunset. Little did they know, this trip would become an adventure of epic proportions.

As they piled into the SUV, Mingi took the driver’s seat with an air of confidence. Seonghwa claimed the passenger seat, while the rest of the bandmates squeezed into the back. Due to the limited space, they ended up sitting on top of each other, like a human game of Tetris.

"Alright, everyone, buckle up. This is going to be a smooth ride," Mingi declared, starting the engine with an overly enthusiastic grin.

Barely five minutes into the journey, Mingi took a wrong turn, steering them onto a narrow, winding road that seemed to shrink with every passing minute. The SUV lurched and bounced, causing everyone in the back to clutch at whatever they could for support.

"Uh, Mingi, are you sure we’re going the right way?" Seonghwa asked, gripping the door handle tightly.

"Of course! I have a great sense of direction," Mingi replied, though the beads of sweat on his forehead told a different story.

After what felt like an eternity of bouncing along the wrong road, they finally found a spot wide enough to turn around. Mingi attempted a three-point turn, but the SUV seemed to have a mind of its own. He was either too close to the ditch on one side or scraping the bushes on the other.

Y/N, squeezed between San and Wooyoung, finally spoke up. "Mingi, maybe I should drive?"

The car fell silent. The bandmates exchanged glances, and San let out a barely contained snicker.

"Really, babe? I can handle this," Mingi insisted, looking less certain with each failed attempt to turn the SUV.

Y/N gave him a reassuring smile. "Trust me, I’ve got this."

With no other options in sight, Mingi reluctantly agreed. Now came the challenge of getting Y/N to the front seat. Practically wedged in the back, she had to climb off San’s lap, then over Wooyoung, who yelped as she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs.

"Watch it, Y/N!" Wooyoung whined playfully, while San tried to help her maintain balance.

Finally, Y/N managed to extract herself from the human puzzle, clambering over Yunho’s long legs and squeezing past Jongho to reach the front. Seonghwa unbuckled and slid out, letting Y/N take the driver’s seat.

Adjusting the mirrors and scooting the seat forward to accommodate her petite frame, Y/N took the wheel. With a gentle but firm touch, she maneuvered the SUV with a precision that left everyone, including Mingi, in awe. In no time, she had them back on the main road.

The rest of the drive was smooth and uneventful. Y/N expertly navigated the twists and turns, handled the traffic, and even managed to parallel park the beast of a vehicle at the beach, earning a round of applause from the bandmates.

"You know, Mingi, I think Y/N should be our official driver from now on," Wooyoung joked, patting Mingi on the back.

Mingi chuckled, a bit sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I guess size doesn’t matter when it comes to driving."

Jongho, always the practical one, chimed in. "At least now we know we can get to our destinations safely and without detours!"

As they enjoyed their day at the beach, Mingi couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for his girlfriend. Sure, he might be the one with the impressive height and stage presence, but Y/N had shown everyone that true skill and capability came in all sizes.

On the way back, Mingi didn’t even protest when Y/N took the wheel again. Instead, he relaxed in the passenger seat, enjoying the smooth ride and the laughter of his bandmates filling the car. It was a lesson in humility, teamwork, and the surprising strengths hidden in the most unexpected places.

And so, the legend of Y/N, the tiny SUV master, became a favorite tale among ATEEZ, always good for a laugh and a reminder that sometimes, the best driver isn’t the one you’d expect.

[justhereforxreaders]

The Prince and the Dragon Rider - Part Five: Precipice

Jacaerys Velaryon x dragon rider!reader

Summary: the news of Vaemond Velaryon’s petition to rob Luke of his inheritance makes its way to Dragonstone and you are invited to your first venture to the capital city.

Warnings: none

Authors note: hi! Hope y’all are enjoying the journey so far! We’re taking a bit of a leap forward in time for this chapter to align with the later half of season one, starting with 1x08 “Lord of the Tides.” I do plan to circle back to blurbs covering the three years the reader spent on Dragonstone but I’m very excited to start weaving this story into the canon seen on screen. Enjoy!

soundtrack

part one: the oath

part two: tempest

part three: the dawn

part four: the test

part six: pieces and players

part seven: the rift

The winds whip up from the sea over the cliff face and through your hair as you turn your face to the rising sun. You breathe deeply, leaning your back onto the warm scales of your dragon’s neck, both of you basking in the morning glow. Tempest’s steady breaths and the sound of the waves soothing your unease as your mind had been plagued with nightmares for nearly a fortnight. Although you could never remember them when you awoke, the terror would stick to your bones long into the day.

This peace is interrupted when the dragon beneath you suddenly stands and walks away to stretch her wings. You are pushed forward ever so slightly when she does this and you let out a deep sigh. Slowly lowering your back to the ground in her absence, you stare up at the pink clouds above.

As you lie there, you feel the chill of the morning creep over your skin as the sunlight is briefly cut off by the shape of Arrax approaching. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as the small white dragon lands among the grass.

“Kirimvos, Arrax,” Lucerys mutters as he dismounts his dragon.

“Good morrow, Lucerys.” You say with a grunt as you pick yourself up from the ground, turning to see the young Prince approaching with his crossbow slung over his shoulder. “No Jace again?” You ask, unsurprised but with a slight pang of hurt.

“No, he went to a lesson with Grand Maester.” He says with a roll of his eyes.

“Well,” you say with a sigh and bitter smile, “he’ll be sorry he missed this one.”

Lucerys perks up.

“You were able to mend the targets?” He asks enthusiastically.

“They have been mended and I’ve added more. Some in the rocks and some on rafts.” You say with a wicked grin. “Try not to miss because we’ll never get those bolts back.”

“What’s the challenge?” He nearly bounces with excitement.

“It was meant to be a race between you and your brother with Tempest and I in pursuit but I suppose my aim could use some practice.” You say, flipping a small blade in the air. “Most hits wins?”

In response he turns heel and sprints back to Arrax, shouting “sōvēs” as he clambers onto the saddle. The young Prince and his dragon soar over the ledge to begin your training circuit around the island. You chuckle to yourself and stride over to Tempest, who waits for you eagerly.

Though a saddle now sits between her shoulder blades, you still opt to ride in your usual position behind her horns, using the same cord that Jace gifted to you nearly 3 years ago. You had tried to use the saddle when it was first placed on her back but found it too disorienting as anticipating Tempest’s movements became nearly impossible. It also made communicating with her much more difficult. Thankfully the saddle-makers assisted in crafting footholds for you to use that were attached to a collar, placed high on her neck, to allow you more safety and stability.

The pair of you waste little time in catching up to Luke and Arrax as they approach the first target that you have affixed to the cliff side. Lucerys fires his crossbow and the bolt finds purchase in the rusted, old shield with a satisfying thunk that echoes off the cliffs. He whips his head around to look towards you and raises a fist in the air in celebration before rushing off to find the next target.

Lucerys was a welcome addition to your flying drills with Jacaerys, begging to join the moment Arrax was large enough to ride. His pure joy for dragon riding brought some levity to his brother’s intensity. The three of you spent a great deal of time together, whether on dragonback or training yard. Even in your free time, most of it was spent in Jace’s company. Though, in recent months, his attention had been pulled towards studying with Rhaenyra or Grand Maester Geradrys.

There was a surprising ache that arose when your time together began to dwindle but you tried your best to be understanding. Your friendship had only grown stronger in the years you lived beside him on Dragonstone and you had come to know that Jace wanted nothing more than to prove himself in every avenue available to him. However, this knowledge combined with his sudden absence came with the unfortunate side effect of insecurity about his relationship to you.

Was dragon riding just another task to check off his list? Were you simply another teacher that he’d abandon once he felt he’d mastered the skill?

As Jace’s company became scarcer that thought became louder, though you desperately tried to drown it out. Trying always to put on a brave face for Lucerys, who also expressed pain at brother’s absence. Concocting new exercises to distract the young Prince was, in itself, a grateful distraction to you.

You send one of your small daggers sailing through the air at the target, only for it to clatter and vanish among the rocks.

“Damn,” you utter in frustration as Tempest charges onward.

The circuit is over faster than you’d wish and the dragons land back in the field where you’d begun. Lucerys practically leaps from Arrax and rushes over to you and Tempest.

“Got at least 14!” He shouts.

“I’ll be lucky if I even hit half a dozen,” you laugh.

“What’s next?” He asks as you slide of your dragon’s neck.

“We can go collect the bolts and daggers and run the circuit again or we could try swimming?”

His excitement dies down instantly.

“Arrax has no love for the water,” he says disgruntled, “I don’t think he’ll ever try swimming again.”

“Shall we find the Master at Arms instead? I am apparently in need of more practice than I imagined.” You jest, trying to keep both your spirits high.

He shakes his head no.

“I don’t want him to see that I’m already in need of more bolts.” He gestures to his empty quiver. “Let’s go break fast then we can return for the ones in targets.”

You sigh quietly before nodding with a smile.

“Beat you to the dragonmont.” You call and signal to Tempest to take wing, quickly climbing back up to your position before she takes off.

When you make your way into the dragonmont, Grand Maester Gerardys waits anxiously near the columns at the other end of the landing platform. His face alights briefly when he hears you enter the cavern but immediately falls when he recognizes the dark shape of Tempest.

“Grand Maester?” You inquire after dismounting your dragon. “Are you alright?”

“I do not know if this yet concerns you, Dragon Rider.” He asserts dryly. “Is Lucerys with you?”

“He should be following shortly,” you gesture towards the entrance.

He nods and returns to his anxious pacing.

“Return to your chambers so we can find you quickly if needed.”

You begin to protest but Arrax makes his entrance behind you and Gerardys takes hold of your wrist, guiding you to the exit.

“Go!” He shouts then makes haste to meet Lucerys on the platform.

Without another word, you run through the pillars, looking down at your wrist in confusion. You slow your pace as you enter the crowded hallways leading to your room, discreetly analyzing those that pass you for any indication about what is happening. Finding no answers, you focus on weaving through the crowd, hoping to receive word in your chambers.

Out of breath, you burst through your own door, into your empty room. With no messengers or visitors waiting for you, you flop onto your bed to catch your breath. You stare up at the once barren stone walls, now alive with trinkets and tokens from your adventures. The red banner from Daemon’s test is fastened to the wall, displayed prominently when you enter the room.

Your stomach begins to grumble and you sit up to watch the door, willing it to open with some news. After a few moments, you stand with a sigh and move to change out of your riding clothes. With whatever excitement is stirring, you imagine you and Luke will not be returning to those shields anytime soon. Once you have changed into your day uniform, you pull a book from the wall and sit beneath your window, hoping to distract yourself from the growing hunger.

However, after rereading the same page four times over, you close the book with a huff and resort to staring out the window. You watch as a thin layer of clouds roll in from the sea. Just as the clouds begin to block out the morning sun, a knock reverberates throughout the room and you stand at attention.

A kingsguard pulls open the door and Rhaenyra steps through, a troubled look upon her face.

“Princess,” you bow, “are you well?”

The door closes behind her, leaving the two of you alone. She inhales sharply, bringing her hand to her swollen belly, before releasing the breath slowly, gently shaking her head side to side.

“Luke’s grandsire has been grievously wounded and in response, his inheritance is being challenged.” She looks to your eyes to measure your understanding. You nod and she continues, though as she speaks, a chill begins to creep up your spine.

“We must travel to King’s Landing to petition against these claims before the Queen Regent.” An unabashed grimace crosses over her face as she moves to stand beside the empty fireplace. She takes a moment to look about the room thoughtfully before continuing.

“I should like you and Tempest to escort Luke and Jace on dragonback. We wish to portray the strength of our house as we enter this arena after so many years away.”

You tilt your head in confusion at the Princess. Her and Daemon had expressed the need for discretion after you were sworn into their service, but rumors of a new dragon and rider were hard to squash, especially as Tempest continued to grow. With such a request for you to join them, on dragonback no less, the seriousness of this journey is made clear to you.

“When do we depart?” You ask, standing up straight to speak with confidence.

She smiles at you tenderly and gestures for you to approach. Reaching out to hold your hand between hers before speaking again.

“I have been very pleased by your service to my family thus far,” her voice becomes grave and she grips your hand a little tighter, “but The Red Keep will be a challenge unlike any you have yet faced. Holdfast to all that you have learned here and remember your oath.”

“I will be ready, my Princess.”

“We will be glad of your company.” She releases your hand and strides towards the door, “We leave at daybreak.”

And with that, you are left alone in your chambers once more. You busy yourself with packing your belongings while attempting to process the Princess’s words. Both Jace and Luke had told stories of their time in The Red Keep, and though you initially took them with a grain of salt given how young they were when they resided there. However, with Rhaenyra’s foreboding words, you begin to understand the world you will soon be entering.

You throw your bag upon your bed once it is filled with your clothing and weapons and sit beside it. Despite how comfortable you have made yourself in this chamber over the last three years, it is surprising to you how quickly you can prepare for a hasty departure. The muscle memory of so many narrow escapes still lingers in your being. A quiet sigh leaves your lips and you make for the door. You briefly consider seeking out the Princes but think better of it, knowing they are likely preparing for the journey ahead. Instead, you let your feet carry you where they will, wandering the castle corridors aimlessly until you enter the garden of Aegon the Conqueror.

You’re unsure how much time passes as you sit at the edge of pool within the cave that you and Tempest once inhabited. Watching the water swirl beneath your feet, you find yourself wondering what your life might have looked like if you and Jace hadn’t been caught in that storm. Although you are certainly grateful for the opportunities you have been given, a simple existence with Tempest, Jacaerys, and Vermax was all you truly desired.

When you took your oath, you knew your life would change in ways you could not fully understand, but what kept you persevering through every new challenge was Jacaerys. His presence felt like an anchor in the chaos all around you, but now you feel the tether wearing thin.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. The life you had envisioned, side by side with your friend, will become nothing but a childish memory. Jacaerys will be King and you will become the Dragon Rider that must train his heirs.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” a familiar voice calls from the opposite end of the cave and you frantically wipe the tears from your eyes.

The footsteps approach but you keep your gaze fixed on the water.

“What are you doing down here?” Jace asks as he joins you on the ground.

You turn to him and his smile fades as he sees the remnants of tears upon your face.

“Are you alright?” He asks and his eyebrows knit together in concern.

“I am,” you say turning back to the water, “I needed to find somewhere quiet to think is all. You seem in good spirits considering the circumstances. How is Luke?” You continue quickly before he can probe any further.

Jace hesitates a moment then quietly follows your gaze and watches the water as well.

“He worries but he need not trouble himself. They have no grounds to take Driftmark from him.” He states, anger seeping through his words.

“I hope you’re right,” you say as you pull your knees up to your chest.

“You have no need to worry either,” his voice softens and he nudges you with his shoulder.

“Why do you say that?” You ask with a raise of your brow.

“You seem distressed,” he mutters, instinctively inching closer to press his shoulder against yours, “I want you to enjoy your first visit to The Red Keep. It was my first home, I’m excited to show it to you.” He flashes a smile, “It’ll be your home too sooner rather than later.”

“Will it?“ You scoff.

“Of course,” he says slightly confused, “why would you not be coming with us when my mother takes the throne?”

“I assumed I’d remain here, training whatever dragon riders are sent my way next. That’s all I seem to be good for these days.” You say dryly.

“That’s ridiculous, you’re a part of our house.” His voice raises slightly and he pulls away to look at you face on.

“I am in service to your house,” you correct, “I am not myself the blood of the dragon. And when you inherit The Red Keep and Lucerys takes his place at Driftmark, I imagine I will be left here alone.”

The tears begin forming again and you look up at the ceiling of the cavern to keep them from falling.

“Y/n,” he says tenderly and places a hand atop your knee, “you are a masterful Dragon Rider, a skilled warrior, and you have proven yourself to be a loyal member of our house. I have every intention to make you a member of my small council if my mother does not find a seat for you in her’s. But more than that, you are my dearest friend. And I will always have a seat for you at my table.”

You sit stunned for a moment, the tears still threatening to pour over, until he gives your knee a gentle squeeze. You a shaky breath and turn to face him.

“I have missed you, Jace,” you say quietly, the tears finally falling.

“I am sorry I have been distant, it was not my intention to abandon you,” He stands and offers you his hand. “I am the reason you have been pulled into this life and I have no desire to let you face it alone.”

You wipe the tears from your face then take his hand to pull yourself up beside him.

“Would you like to go for a ride this evening?” You ask sheepishly as he pulls you towards the exit before releasing your hand. “Make sure Tempest and Vermax still enjoy flying together before we embark on such a long journey?” You smirk.

He breathes a quiet laugh.

“I’d love nothing more.”

• @eywas-heir

[rainbowloveletters]

Jeremy and Micah: A Love Story of Unconditional Acceptance

The bustling city streets were alive with activity as the lunch hour rush began. Jeremy, a tall and muscular man in his early thirties, strode confidently through the crowded sidewalks, his broad shoulders pushing through the throngs of people. As he turned a corner, his eyes locked onto a petite figure huddled against the cold wind. The man was short, likely barely over 5 feet tall, with delicate features and an ethereal beauty. Jeremy felt an instant pull, as if drawn by an unseen force.

"Excuse me," Jeremy called out, his deep voice cutting through the chatter. "Are you alright?"

The smaller man looked up, startled green eyes meeting Jeremy's warm brown ones. A pink flush crept up his cheeks as he took in Jeremy's chiseled good looks and broad, well-built frame. "Y-yes, I'm fine, thank you," he stammered, his soft voice barely audible over the city din.

Jeremy smiled, a charming dimple appearing in his cheek. "I'm Jeremy. Jeremy Thompson. And you are...?"

"I'm Micah," the pretty man replied shyly, averting his gaze. "Micah Avery."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Micah." Jeremy extended a large, work-roughened hand. Micah hesitated briefly before placing his own tiny one in Jeremy's grasp. A spark of electricity seemed to pass between them at the touch.

As they shook hands, Jeremy couldn't help but notice how small and fragile Micah appeared, so delicate compared to his own rugged build. An overwhelming urge to protect and shelter this lovely creature washed over him. He vowed then and there to keep Micah safe from any and all harm.

They continued to chat, discovering a shared love of indie music, art house cinema, and gourmet cooking. The noise and chill of the city faded away as they lost themselves in conversation. Micah found himself drawn to Jeremy's kind, genuine nature, and the way he listened with such rapt attention. Jeremy, in turn, was captivated by Micah's sweet shyness and unique blend of innocence and quiet strength.

"Listen Micah," Jeremy finally said, glancing down at his watch, "I'd love to continue this conversation. Any chance I could take you out for coffee? Or maybe dinner sometime?"

Micah's heart leapt at the invitation. "I'd like that," he replied, a hopeful smile breaking across his face. "Very much so."

They exchanged numbers, reluctantly parting ways, both feeling a profound sense of loss when no longer in each other's presence. Jeremy watched Micah walk away, his eyes tracing the graceful line of the smaller man's back. He knew, with unshakable certainty, that he wanted to spend every moment he could with this extraordinary being.

In the weeks and months that followed, Jeremy and Micah's relationship blossomed into a deep, abiding love. They spent every spare moment together, exploring the city hand-in-hand, their heads bent close in intimate conversation. Micah found himself opening up to Jeremy in ways he never had with anyone before, drawn to the other man's patient understanding and steadfast support.

For his part, Jeremy was amazed by Micah's resilience and creativity in the face of adversity. Despite the hardships and challenges life had thrown at him, Micah radiated a gentle strength, facing each day with courage and grace. Jeremy felt fiercely protective of this brave, beautiful soul, an all-encompassing need to safeguard Micah's happiness burning in his chest.

Their love grew, changing from a smoldering ember to a raging inferno. They began to envision a future together, dreams of a shared home, perhaps even a family. But navigating the complexities of a same-sex relationship, especially one so fraught with disparities in size and strength, was not without its obstacles.

Micah found himself often overwhelmed by his own need to be protected, a deep-seated fear that Jeremy would one day leave him behind like so many others had. He clung to the taller man with a desperate urgency, as if trying to physically merge their two bodies into one. Jeremy could only hold Micah close, murmuring words of love and devotion, his own heart breaking at the thought of ever causing this precious being pain.

Still, their love remained steadfast, a shining beacon to light their way. They learned to communicate openly, working through each challenge as it arose. And as the months deepened into years, their bond grew stronger still, an unbreakable thread weaving their lives into an exquisite tapestry.

After a few months of tying the knot with the man of his dream, Micah began to feel a curious flutter in his belly. At first, he dismissed it as mere nerves, but as the feeling persisted, growing in strength and frequency, he knew something was amiss. With trembling hands, he took a pregnancy test, hardly daring to breathe as he waited for the results.

Jeremy found him a short time later, curled in a ball on the bathroom floor, tears streaming down his face. "What is it, love?" he asked, sinking to his knees and gathering Micah into his arms. "What's wrong?"

"I'm...I'm pregnant," Micah whispered brokenly, his voice rough with emotion.

A stunned silence fell between them. Male pregnancy, while not unheard of, remained a rare and wondrous occurrence. Jeremy cradled Micah's face in his hands, brushing away the smaller man's tears with the pads of his thumbs.

"My God, Micah," he breathed, awe and wonder suffusing his voice. "We're going to be parents. Our family, growing together in the most beautiful way."

Micah laughed through his tears,joy and love bubbling up inside him. They held each other fiercely, marveling at the life growing inside Micah's belly, a tangible manifestation of their love.

As the months progressed, Micah blossomed, his stomach swelling with their child. Jeremy was a constant presence, massaging Micah's aching back, preparing nutritious meals, and whispering devotion to his growing bump. He marveled at the changes in Micah's body, awed by the strength and beauty of the life-growing process.

Jeremy's eyes adored his husband Micah's swollen belly, gently caressing the smooth, tight skin stretched over their growing child. "You look so beautiful today, love," he murmured, nuzzling into Micah's neck.

Micah giggled and pushed against Jeremy's muscular chest. "You're just saying that because you love me."

"Of course I love you, silly." Jeremy kissed up Micah's jawline. "I want you so badly right now."

"You're insatiable." Micah rolled his eyes playfully. "I'm hugely pregnant, in case you haven't noticed."

"I noticed. I want you even more because of it. The way you glow..." Jeremy cupped Micah's face tenderly. "The way your skin glows, how your breasts and belly swell...your body is so ripe and alluring."

Micah shivered, his eyes darkening with lust. Despite his pregnancy, he still desired Jeremy just as much. More, even. "Then take me," he breathed.

Jeremy scooped Micah into his strong arms and carried him to their bedroom. He undressed Micah carefully, reverently, kissing every inch of exposed flesh. Micah gasped and writhed under Jeremy's skilled touches.

"You're so sexy...I want to worship you," Jeremy husked. He kissed down Micah's chest, paying homage to the changes in his body before arriving at Micah's heavy, sensitive nipples. Micah cried out at the first touch of Jeremy's mouth.

Micah let out a breathy moan, his hands threading through Jeremy's hair. "I need you, Jer," he whimpered. "Please...make love to me."

Jeremy's heart raced as he carefully helped Micah to his side. He stroked the curve of Micah's hip, trailing his fingers up the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. "I'll be so gentle with you, babe. I'd never want to hurt you or the baby."

When his fingers found Micah's most intimate place, slick with arousal, Jeremy groaned at the heated response. He circled Micah's opening with the pad of his finger, then gently pressed inside. Slowly, so very slowly, he worked a second finger in alongside the first, crooking just so.

"Ah! Yes, Jer!" Micah keened, rocking back onto Jeremy's hand. His passage fluttered and clenched, more eager than usual in his pregnant state.

Soon Micah was panting and gasping, babbling pleas for more. Jeremy moved over him, carefully lowering his weight onto Micah's smaller frame. He lined himself up and pushed in with deliberate slowness, giving Micah time to adjust to the stretch of his thick length.

They moved together, their lovemaking intense but unhurried, savoring every slide of skin on skin, every brush of lips, every hitched breath and needy moan. Jeremy hit that special spot inside Micah again and again, determined to bring his husband to a peak of pleasure like no other.

The moonlight filtering through the curtains illuminated the couple as they moved together in a passionate rhythm, their bodies slick with sweat. Jeremy's powerful muscles rippled beneath his skin as he thrust deep into his husband Micah's tight heat.

"Ohhh Jeremy! Yes, just like that!" Micah moaned, his back arching off the bed. The small, cute twink with the rounded baby bump couldn't get enough of his protective husband's thick cock stretching him open.

"Fuck, you're so hot and tight, baby," Jeremy growled, gripping Micah's hips. He snapped his wide hips harder, burying himself balls-deep into Micah's needy hole with every powerful thrust. The bed creaked and shook, the headboard slamming against the wall.

Jeremy's strong, muscular form enveloped Micah's petite, cute body as he gently thrust into his husband. Micah let out a gasp of pleasure, his short frame trembling with ecstasy. Suddenly, something caught Jeremy's eye - a small bead of opaque liquid forming on Micah's nipple. Puzzled, Jeremy pulled back to get a better look. To his utter shock, a thin stream of milky fluid began to dribble from Micah's pink bud.

Micah followed his gaze and blushed deeply, covering his chest. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't know that would happen," he stammered shyly.

But rather than be repulsed, Jeremy felt a rush of desire at the sight of his husband's leaking nipples. His cock throbbed harder inside Micah's tight heat. The knowledge that Micah was pregnant with his child, that their lovemaking had created new life, only made Jeremy want him more.

"It's beautiful," Jeremy breathed reverently, leaning down to lap at the pearly drops with his tongue. Micah mewled and arched into the touch, his body responding eagerly.

Jeremy gazed up at Micah with adoring eyes as he suckled, relishing the sweet taste of his husband's milk. This was a profound moment of intimacy and love, their bond growing even deeper. He never wanted it to end.

Micah's dick rubbed deliciously against Jeremy's abs as he pounded into him. "Mmm, I'm gonna cum!" the pregnant twink whimpered, his body trembling on the verge of release. Suddenly, Micah's swollen, sensitive nipples started to leak milk, droplets of warm liquid trickling down his chest and pooling on his skin. The combination of sensations sent Micah over the edge and he cried out, spilling his release between them.

The sight of Micah coming undone, his body glistening with sweat and lactation, was too much for Jeremy. With a grunt, the well-built man buried himself to the hilt inside his husband's fluttering hole and exploded, flooding Micah's insides with his hot seed. They clung to each other, shuddering and gasping through the aftershocks of their intense orgasms.

"Aww, baby, you're looking so beautiful," Jeremy cooed over his pregnant husband, Micah. The couple were lounging on their bed after a recent steamy romp in the sheets.

Micah giggled, his cheeks flushed pink. "You're such a charmer, I swear." He playfully swatted Jeremy's chiseled chest.

Jeremy grinned, pulling Micah into his strong arms. "What can I say? Pregnancy agrees with you. Makes your ass look even better, if that's possible." He gave Micah's plump rear an appreciative squeeze.

Micah stuck his tongue out at Jeremy in mock annoyance, but his eyes sparkled with affection and desire. "Lay off, you perv. I'm carrying our child here."

"And what a sexy mama you are," Jeremy teased, running his fingers reverently over the swell of Micah's belly. He leaned down, pressing loving kisses across the stretched skin. "You've never looked more gorgeous to me, baby."

Micah sighed happily, melting into Jeremy's tender ministrations. "You always know just what to say..."

Jeremy smirked as he felt Micah's body tense beneath him. "What's wrong, baby? You okay?" He cupped Micah's face, studying it with concern.

"I...I think my water just broke," Micah said, sounding shocked. A liquid gush spread beneath them on the sheets.

"Micah! Are you in labor?" Jeremy's eyes widened. He hadn't expected this to happen so soon or so suddenly.

"I...I think so," Micah breathed, voice pitching higher. "It hurts, Jer..."

But Micah was already off the bed, waddling to the bathroom. Jeremy followed close behind, ready to catch him if he slipped. Micah made it to the bathroom just in time before his contractions started up in earnest.

"Oh god, Jeremy... I'm s-sorry!" Micah blubbered through tears of pain and embarrassment. "I've ruined the bed!"

Jeremy knelt down and held Micah's face in his hands, his expression one of pure love and adoration. "You haven't ruined anything, sweetheart. This is just part of it. You're doing so well. I'm so proud of you."

He helped Micah get cleaned up and into a bathrobe.

"Shh, I've got you. I've got you, baby." Jeremy soothed, shifted to cradle Micah in his arms. "What do I need to do? What can I do to help?"

"Get me the birthing plan!" Micah demanded through gritted teeth. "And the hospital bag! We have to head to the hospital!"

Jeremy nodded, heart pounding. "Right, right." He scrambled off the bed, grabbing the emergency bag they'd packed ages ago. He retrieved the folder of papers too before hurrying back to Micah's side.

"Okay, let's get you dressed and to the car," he said, scanning the instructions quickly. "I'm going to carry you, 'kay? Nice and slow."

Micah nodded weakly, breathing hard through contractions. Jeremy carefully hoisted him into his arms, muscles straining with the effort. He hated seeing Micah in pain like this.

With Micah clutched tightly to his chest, Jeremy carefully navigated out to the car, gingerly getting them both buckled in. He drove as quickly but safely as possible to the hospital, wincing every time Micah cried out.

"I know, I know... Almost there, baby, just hang on..." Jeremy soothed, reaching over to squeeze Micah's hand.

Thankfully, they soon arrived. Jeremy pulled up to the ER entrance and came around to scoop up Micah. "I'm here, I'm here! My husband's in labor!" he called out frantically to the orderlies rushing to meet them with a wheelchair.

Jeremy paced nervously in the hospital waiting room, his muscular frame practically vibrating with barely contained anxiety as he awaited news of his husband Micah's labour progress. The cute, twink-like man had been through so much already, and Jeremy just wanted him and their baby to be safe.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a nurse emerged and gave Jeremy a reassuring smile. "You can come back now, Mr. Thompson. Micah is asking for you."

Relief flooded through him and Jeremy hurried after the nurse, his heart pounding. He stepped into the delivery room and immediately went to Micah's side, taking his tiny hand in his own much larger one. "Hey baby, I'm here now. What do you need?"

Micah managed a weak but grateful smile up at his hulking husband. "Just having you here is enough," he said breathlessly between contractions.

The medical staff bustled around them, monitoring machines beeping and whirring. A nurse gently helped remove Micah's hospital gown, leaving him completely exposed and vulnerable on the labour bed. Jeremy's protective instincts flared and he resisted the urge to cover his husband, knowing it was necessary for the birth.

The staff then carefully placed wires and sensors on Micah's naked body, attaching them to the monitoring machines. Micah trembled, looking small and fragile as the cold metal touched his bare skin, but Jeremy just squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"I love you so much," Jeremy murmured, catching Micah's dark eyes. "You're doing so great, baby. I'm so proud of you."

Micah whimpered and clung to Jeremy's hand as another intense contraction hit, his small body arching on the bed. Beads of sweat slicked his alabaster skin under the lights of the machines.

Jeremy watched the monitors anxiously, seeing Micah's vitals spiking. "Is he okay?" he asked the closest nurse sharply.

"Yes, sir, perfectly normal for this stage of labour," she replied calmly. "Baby's coming along great too. Not much longer now..."

"Push!" the doctor instructed, and with a guttural cry, Micah bore down, his petite body working to bring their child into the world...

As Jeremy holds Micah's hand tightly, he gazes at his husband's face, etched in pain but also determination. The doctor had warned them that Micah's small stature may make natural childbirth difficult, but Micah was adamant about avoiding a C-section if possible.

"I've got you, baby. You're doing so well," Jeremy coos reassuringly, his large hand engulfing Micah's tiny one. He stands protectively over his husband's petite frame, his strong, muscular build a stark contrast to Micah's delicate features.

Micah grits his teeth as another contraction rips through him. "I don't know if I can do this, Jeremy," he whimpers, sweat glistening on his brow. "It hurts so much."

"Shh, I know it does, sweetheart. But you're the strongest person I know. Our little one is almost here, I can feel it." Jeremy gently wipes the damp hair from Micah's forehead, peppering his face with soft kisses.

The doctor, a kind older woman with a warm smile, steps in. "Micah, you're doing great. The baby is crowning. A few more pushes and you'll be holding your child in your arms."

Micah nods weakly, mustering the last of his energy. "Okay, I can do this." He takes a deep breath and bears down hard as another contraction hits.

"That's it, Micah! Keep going," the doctor urges.

With a final, guttural cry, Micah pushes, his body straining with the effort. Then, suddenly, the room erupts in the most beautiful sound Jeremy has ever heard - the piercing wail of their newborn child.

"It's a boy!" the doctor exclaims joyfully, placing the squirming, perfect infant on Micah's heaving chest. "Congratulations, you two. He's absolutely perfect."

Tears streaming down his face, Jeremy leans down and presses a reverent kiss to his son's downy head. "Hello, little man," he whispers hoarsely. "Welcome to the world."

Micah cradles their child close, his exhausted face alight with wonder and love. "We did it, Jeremy," he breathes. "We made a miracle."

Safe in the haven of their husband's embrace, their family now complete, the new fathers bask in the euphoria of this momentous day - the day their hearts grew impossibly bigger, the day their lives changed forever.

The sun shone gently through the hospital window, illuminating the scene before me. My husband Micah lay on the bed, his short, twink frame looking absolutely ravishing in his thin hospital gown. The swell of his belly had reduced significantly after giving birth to our beautiful baby boy, but I could still see the stretch marks - battle scars he bore with pride.

I, Jeremy, stood by the window, admiring my husband's beauty from afar. At 6'2", I towered over Micah's 5'6" frame, and I loved every bit of it. He was my cute little boywife, and I would do anything to keep him safe and happy.

I walked over to the bed, my well-built physique moving with a quiet confidence. Micah looked up at me, his pretty face lighting up with a smile. "Hey, handsome," he cooed, his voice still a little hoarse from all the screaming he did during labor.

"Hey, baby," I replied, leaning down to press a tender kiss on his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than expected," Micah chuckled, his hand reaching out to rest on my rock-hard abs. "I just want to go home and snuggle with our little one."

"We'll get there soon, love. The doctor said we can go home in a day or two, once you're feeling up to it."

Micah pouted cutely, and I couldn't resist giving him another kiss, this time on the lips. He tasted like hospital disinfectant and my favorite lip balm, a heady combination that never failed to turn me on.

Our kiss deepened, Micah's tongue sliding against mine with a needy whimper. I groaned into his mouth, my hands roaming over his slim body, tracing the dip of his waist and the flare of his hips.

"Need you," Micah mumbled against my lips, his fingers digging into my biceps. "Need you so bad, Jer."

I knew exactly what he meant. It had been weeks since we last made love, what with the pregnancy and the birth and all the chaos in between. But now, in this private hospital room, with our baby safely in the nursery and the door locked and bolted, I could finally give my husband what he craved.

I stripped off my clothes with quick, efficient movements, my thick cock springing free and already half-hard. Micah's eyes went wide and hungry, his own erection tenting the thin fabric of his gown.

I pushed the gown up and off, revealing Micah's creamy skin and pert nipples. I latched onto one, sucking and nibbling until he was writhing beneath me, his slim legs spreading wide in invitation.

I reached for the lube we'd stashed under the mattress, slicking up my fingers before pressing one against Micah's fluttering hole. He hissed and shuddered, but kept pushing back onto my finger, desperate to be filled.

I worked him open with practiced ease, adding a second and then a third finger until Micah was mewling and clenching around me. Only then did I line up my cock and push in, slowly and gently, letting him adjust to the stretch.

"Fuck," Micah whimpered, his hands scrabbling at my shoulders. "You're so big, Jer. Feels so good."

I smiled down at him, my hips starting to move in a slow, deep rhythm. "You take me so well, baby. Such a good boy for me."

Micah's response was to wrap his legs around my waist and urge me deeper, his heels digging into the small of my back. I complied, snapping my hips harder, faster, the obscene sound of skin on skin filling the room.

The headboard creaked as I fucked into Micah with abandon, sweat beading on my brow and dripping down onto his chest. Micah was a mess beneath me, his face twisted with pleasure, his cock weeping and untouched between his legs.

"Touch yourself," I grunted, reaching down to stroke Micah's thigh. "Want to watch you come undone for me."

Micah didn't hesitate, his slender hand wrapping around his dripping cock and starting to stroke in time with my thrusts. His mouth fell open, his pretty face slack with bliss as he chased his release.

I could feel my own climax building at the base of my spine, my balls drawing up tight and my thrusts becoming erratic. "Gonna cum," I rasped, my fingers digging into Micah's hips hard enough to bruise. "Cum with me, Micah. Now."

Micah keened, his cock pulsing in his grip as he spurted all over his chest and stomach. The sensation of his walls clenching around me was too much, and with a hoarse cry, I buried myself deep and came, painting Micah's insides with my seed.

I collapsed on top of him, both of us panting and trembling with the aftershocks. Micah's arms came up to wrap around my neck, holding me close as we both came down.

"I love you," Micah murmured, nuzzling into my neck. "Love you so much, Jeremy."

"I love you too, baby," I replied, pressing a kiss to his temple. "More than anything."

We laid there for a while longer, just enjoying each other's closeness. But eventually, I knew I had to clean us up before the doctors came back to check on Micah.

I slipped out of him with a quiet groan, both of us hissing at the sensitivity. I grabbed some tissues and gently wiped Micah down, tossing the used wipes in the bin.

Just as I was pulling the blankets back up to cover Micah's naked body, we heard a knock at the door. "Just a minute!" I called out, quickly pulling on my clothes and unlocking the door.

The nurse who walked in looked relieved to see Micah looking so well, but I could see the hint of curiosity in her eyes. I just smiled blandly and helped her check Micah over, ignoring the knowing look she shot me when she saw the love bite blooming on Micah's neck.

But I didn't care what she thought. All that mattered was that my husband was happy and healthy, and that our family was complete. And as I watched Micah drift off to sleep with a sated smile on his face, I knew that I would do anything to keep him safe and satisfied.

Even if that meant sneaking into his hospital room for a little TLC. As long as Micah was happy, I was happy. And that was all that mattered.

[look-at-the-soul]

Behind the scenes- Peaky Blinders (Part 1)

Cillian Murphy x reader

BTS master list

Request

A/N: I wrote this to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the series… right on time before this day ends! I had to cut it into two parts because it got a bit longer… there are no words enough to thank each of you (the peaky fam) for what writing and reading has given me. This little project is really really special and I want to thank @notyour-valentine for tagging me in this request a while ago, thank you for your generosity Val, there’s a little gift between the lines for you. And for the help you provided for another part related to horses♥️

But also @heidimoreton for creating this gorgeous moodboard to go with this story! And my dear @holacia3 for the help you gave me too about horses and @forbidden-forest-witch this is for your belated birthday and the little surprise♥️

Word count: 4,745

✨ Summary: Join us at the stables as Cillian gets riding lessons for his iconic role as Tommy Shelby in the series Peaky Blinders. He came to learn all about horses, but he ended up falling in love not only with them.

During his career, he had played several roles, learned how to walk on heels for Breakfast on Pluto, about space for Sunshine, even played a part in a film that was close to home in “The wind that shakes the Barley” about the historic war between Northern Ireland and Great Britain.

Acting was such a treat to calm -in a way- his hyperactive mind.

He preferred to not answer what he wasn’t willing to do for a role, because he’d probably do anything.

That included riding horses. Which, in reality he wasn’t a bit familiar with.

He had never even been close to one in his life. His driving skills were so poor, how would he fucking manage an animal that big?

Yet, here he was waiting in the living room of the horses sanctuary located in a remote place of England he had never heard before.

The sighting was breathtaking, the air so pure, no city noise, it was quiet, calm, everything he was looking for before the storm started, he had never been on a series before and the mental challenges of this character was the biggest of his entire career, he had never met a man as complex and with so many layers as this Tommy Shelby he had spent weeks reading, the internal turmoil this man has been through after the war wasn’t his only problem, his background included a household with lots of family problems, taking care of his younger siblings while stepping up to build an ilegal business and endless enemies that he would encounter along the way.

Cillian was greeted by the teenager behind the desk and asked him to wait because the trainer hadn’t show up that morning and she rushed to call someone else on a radio.

“Someone will be here shortly, can I offer you something to drink in the mean time sir?”

Cillian chuckled at the sir part.

“Water would be great.”

Turning around, he was able to see through the window, finding a woman galloping at speed and coming down from the horse without really stopping with just a jump.

Seconds later, the same woman entered the reception out of breath and walked straight to the girl.

“Your horse trainer called in sick again.” Cillian heard the teenager say.

“Thanks Willow, can you help me reschedule the appointment with the bank?”

“Sure, Y/N. Will you also reschedule his sessions?” The teenager pointed at him.

Until now, Cillian had only being able to watch her from behind; petite but lean frame, she had black tight pants, riding boots and a cream jumper on, her hair up in a high pony tail cascading on her upper back.

But when she turned around, Cillian was lost for words as the most angelic face met him.

And he wasn’t one bit religious.

“Mr. Murphy nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” She offered her hand firmly along with a smile. “Our trainer isn’t available today, please accept my apologies could we reschedule?”

He stammered, not knowing what to say.

“Y/N, you could show him how to ride too.” The teenager proposed.

“I thought you’d be on your way to school young lady.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at the girl. God she was just like her aunt.

“Whatever, I was just saying.” Getting her bag, she stormed from behind the counter. “Should I tell aunt Val dinner is cancelled?”

Oh no.

She knew that look, it was the same her aunt would give her.

“Honey don’t tell your aunt anything.”

“Bye auntie! Bye Mr. Murphy!”

“Sorry, so? I think one of our trainers comes back from a horse fair on Saturday if that day works for you.”

Leaning on the counter, Cillian decided to take a risk. There was something about her.

“I’m in a bit of a hurry, would it give you a lot of trouble if you show me?”

“Not at all! I just thought you wanted a professional trainer that’s all.”

He smiled and for an instant, Y/N’s heart skipped a beat.

“Right, well… follow me this way.” She lead the way outside of the property. “Is this some kind of bucket list thing?” Mondays were usually quiet days at the sanctuary, nothing like the weekends when they were usually packed.

Cillian walked next to her, hands inside his pockets. Unsure about how much to reveal.

“I need to learn how to ride.” He chuckled a little, the script was phenomenal and he was extremely excited about it, but until now he wasn’t able to talk about the project.

Y/N guided him towards the stables, he had seen a few in movies or the telly, but being there in person, it was another story, it was huge and his heart got too excited as his eyes found the horses.

“Do you’ve a particular preference for a horse?” Y/N asked curious about the hermetic man before her.

“Racehorses.”

Y/N turned around slowly to look at him. There was a subtle accent different from his voice, but she brushed it away.

Cillian tried to clear his throat, aware of the voice tone he just used, he was still practicing the accent and mannerisms he had been building over this new character.

“Okay… I can’t let you ride a racehorse if you’ve never been on a horse.”

“Why not?”

“Look, horses are just like people, they’ve their own temper, feelings, the know when we’re scared or aggressive, we don’t mess around them… I’d suggest you start with a gentle horse first.”

“You seem to know a lot about them.” Cillian observed the way she was caressing one as they walked.

“I grew up in this place, my grandparents started this sanctuary, my mother was the only child and she kept the family business, then it was my time to take over.”

“How long have you been running this place?”

“Since I was eighteen.” Y/N admitted. “This is Sally, she’s a good girl.”

Cillian observed Y/N’s moves, the way she approached the horses. And she showed him the right way to caress the animal.

“Can I touch her?”

Bringing the hose to her by the muzzle, she giggled. “She says you can.”

“What else does she says?” It felt soft and he noticed the way Sally was moving her ears.

“That she doesn’t believe you, horses are one of the most intelligent creatures.”

Cillian chuckled, accepting the snack Y/N brought over. He was fascinated by the level of trust she showed with each animal, the way each of them reacted, it was so true, as he was noticing little differences in each horse as their own personalities, it was amazing and as Y/N shared more details about the place with him, he found it was impossible to keep lying to her, she had such an energy that was so inviting, giving him a lot of comfort.

Y/N introduced him to all of the horses, caressing each of them, mentioning little details about their personalities or a couple of qualities. She seemed to know them all well and Cillian was marveled by the way each horse behaved with her. Y/N spent a good amount of time explaining him some of the basics.

“I think I learned how to ride a horse before I started walking, all my childhood I was eager to get out of school to come home and run straight to the stables. They’ve been with me through my worst moments, they own such a healing power humans do not understand about, they’re pure creatures… sorry, I’m boring you.” She mumbled feeling her cheeks burn.

“Not at all, I find it fascinating… the way you talk to them and about them, it’s magical.”

“Y/N! The foal is coming early!”

Y/N’s face went blank they still had a few week left. Turning to Cillian she apologized, but she needed to be there, so she asked Jonah the guy how took care of the saddles to show Cillian around while she was gone, but it could be hours.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, I’m staying at the small bed and breakfast that’s close.”

And he saw her run out of the stables, Jonah explained to him they built a small facility to those special occasions. The boy around his early twenties showed him the racks full of saddles and other equipment they used, he was surprised by all of the things they had around to use with the horses.

It was until around nine o clock when Y/N came down from the stairs, after taking a long bath, she had been so tired helping in the delivery that she just wanted a cup of tea and head off to sleep.

“Jesus, what are you doing here?” She gasped closing the robe tight against her body, she wasn’t expecting to find Cillian sitting by the window.

“Well I asked if I could use the books you’ve here and they said it was alright.” He smiled gently pointing at the pile of books he placed on the table next to him, an empty cup in the corner.

“You’ve been here reading since I left the stables?”

He chuckled a little, not aware of the track of time, he had been reading. “Yes, they’re fascinating.” He debated himself whether revealing her the truth or not.

Y/N threw him a puzzled look.

“You live here? Upstairs I mean.”

She nodded. “Yes, the house was so big so I turned the first floor into the main offices, the kitchen is in the back if you need anything.”

“Thanks, I’ve been looking around at the portraits, hope you don’t mind.”

Just as Y/N was about to answer him, a loud thunder echoed through the property. it was so loud it felt like the house would come crashing down. The sound of droplets of rain against the windows followed right after.

“I’d love to stay and talk about the books with you but I really need to go.” Y/N explained just as she rushed upstairs to get changed when she came back down a few minutes later, he noticed her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, cascading down her back.

“Wait.” Cillian stopped her placing his hand on her arm, “can I come with you?”

She was unsure because of his lack of knowledge, but Cillian seemed to read her mind. “I promise to stay back.”

“Okay.” She nodded and offered a rain jacket from the small closet next to the door.

“Is everything alright?” Cillian asked her with curiosity after getting in her vehicle to protect themselves from the heavy rain.

“It’s one of my horses… he gets pretty scary of this terrible weather.” She explained absently, holding the steering wheel with such force that made her knuckles turn white.

“Tell me about him.”

“Thunder is… special, he was born on a night like this and I know doing this sounds ridiculous, but how can I stand there and do nothing?”

She looked at him for an instant, all of her feelings right there in the surface for him to see and read. Cillian nodded, fighting against the lump on his throat that formed after detecting the passion in her voice.

In silence, Cillian followed Y/N inside the barn rushing immediately towards Thunder.

“There it is my good boy.” She started caressing the horse by the muzzle, gently. The horse was extremely agitated. “Everything’s fine… just a loud noise, you know that.”

Cillian found himself staring at her, unable to look anywhere else, he was under some kind of spell.

“Shh, shh.” She held the horse by the curb rein, -he now knew some of the horsemanship-. “Listen to me, Thunder.”

Marveled by her tactics and control over the horse, he couldn’t help it but start whispering a Romany poem he recently learned as part of the script for the series he was working in. Locking eyes with the beautiful animal, he felt like time stood still, it was as if the horse was going through every layer of his mind and soul and the rest of his surroundings faded away. Eventually, the horse started to give in, coming to a calm state.

“What did you do?” Y/N asked squinting her eyes. “It takes me ages to calm him down.”

Cillian shook his head, realizing the deep connection with the horse was gone but it was impossible to explain that it wasn’t him… it was his character’s nature. It was in his blood.

“It’s a poem.” He admitted quietly noticing the storm was coming down.

“In a foreign langua-?

“Thunder!” A boy stormed through the barn directly in the horse’s corral.

“Arlo what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“I thought Thunder might get scared.” He argued, poking his head in to make sure the horse was safe.

“You’re not allowed to come here by yourself in the middle of the night.” She argued.

“But Muuuum!”

Cillian’s heart skipped a beat.

“No buts, Thunder is perfectly fine.” She transformed into a completely different person. “We’re going back to the house right now.”

“Who are you?” Arlo gave him a look, a serious one.

“I’m showing him to ride a horse, focus… on the truck now.” She then turned to look at Cillian. “The only road that could take you to the b&b is probably stuck, it would be better if you stay at the house tonight.”

He wanted to argue, but judging by the intensity of the storm, she was right.

“Sure, thanks.”

She touched the horse’s nose a few times before closing the gate. Cillian followed them in silence, still moved about what just happened with that horse.

“How long are you staying?” Arlo asked Cillian from the back seat.

“A week.”

“What’s your favorite horse?” The kid asked.

“Arlo, it’s late and Mr. Murphy is probably tired.”

He shook his head. “Just Cillian please and it’s fine.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she saw Cillian giving her a wink and tilting his head.

Parking the truck, Arlo flew inside the house, leaving a wet patch on the floor of his footsteps.

“Boots and bed.” Y/N instructed with a firm voice. “You can stop by tomorrow morning to meet the new Filly.” Cillian saw her kissing the top of the kid’s head and the hint of a smile spread on her lips. “Sorry about that.”

“He looks like you. Must be awesome to have them help you around.”

Y/N made a face. “Them?”

“Arlo and his father?” Cillian asked in confusion.

And now she was moving her head from left to right. “There’s no father around, he left us after learning I was pregnant.” Y/N looked towards the stairs where her son disappeared a few minutes ago, shuddering. “Can I offer you some tea? It’s cold.”

“‘M sorry… shouldn’t have assumed.”

Brushing off the topic, she started the kettle and Cillian went back to feel extremely comfortable around her. And considering the personal revelation she just shared with him, he needed to be honest in return.

“I’m working in a project that involves horses, but like such a real passion for horses.” He ended up confessing after meeting all of them.

“That sounds interesting.” She admitted but decided to not ask further.

“Yeah,” Cillian ran his hand over the back of his neck. “I need you to show me everything about them… please. I’m portraying a character that involves a man that used to be in love with them, horses are a huge part of this man’s soul, it’s for a BBC series.”

Y/N turned with two cups in her hands, her mind trying to register his words.

“I-I’m an actor.” Cillian revealed after an instant. “But I need you to keep this between us because I signed a confidentiality contract and I could get kicked out of it.”

“Goodness I’m sorry, thought I had seen you before but I couldn’t remember where,” an adorable blush turned her cheeks pink, “I hope you understand I don’t go to the movies a lot, my whole life is this sanctuary and my son…”

“Please don’t even say it.” He chuckled. “I actually prefer it that way.”

“I think the last movie I saw you in…” Y/N stared into the ceiling thinking about it, “was it Inception? Probably.”

Cillian smiled and he lighted the entire kitchen with it.

“Yeah.”

Pouring both cups, Cillian stood up to take them from her hands.

“So uhhm… this project? Why exactly do you need a racehorse?” She asked cautiously.

“My character is a bookmaker, he arranges races… it’s placed in 1919 so he moved around horses after World War I. It’s quite interesting.” Cillian raised his eyebrows in appreciation for the tea after taking a sip. “Fascinating actually.”

“Definitely sounds intriguing.” Y/N admitted leaning her elbow on the table.

“As soon as I started reading the script I was attracted into his world.” He smiled, revering when he got the call for the audition. “Sorry I don’t want to keep you up.”

“It’s fine, I’ll stay for a little longer checking some paperwork.” Her thumb rubbed a chip in her mug. “So would it be okay if I show you everything? From brushing the horse, how to hook the saddle? The way you should approach one?”

Leaning back, Cillian looked at her with his head tilted to the side. “I actually need to learn how to ride bareback.”

****

The following morning, Y/N was preparing the lunchbox for Arlo when a deep voice startled her.

“Good morning.” Cillian saw the little jump she did.

“Hello, did you sleep well?”

Nodding, he smiled in her direction. “Thank you for the accommodation, much better than the B&B.”

“So! I just came here to check the new-” Val announced from the front door just as Arlo stormed into the kitchen but she cut herself when she spotted a man in the corner, “horse, but I see you’re busy.” She replied looking at you. “Just wanted to say it’s highly approved by the comitee. Hello, I’m Val.” She greeted Cillian.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Val…” Y/N added as a warning, knowing how Val was.

“What? It fills all the requirements… great breed, elegance, experience.” She made an OK with her hand.

“Val.” Y/N repeated. “Arlo go or you will be late for school.” She kissed the kid goodbye and felt Val’s eyes on her.

Of course her best friend wasn’t talking about a goddamn horse!

“How about I see you later today? I’m about to get a bit busy.” Y/N asked, she needed to get her friend out of her house before she could keep talking about Cillian as if he was a horse. “We’ve a riding lesson about to start.”

“Have a great time at the barn!” Val gave her a look before leaving them.

After a quick breakfast, Y/N gave him a pair of high boots and introduced Cillian to the different tools they used with the horses.

“To check the heel, you have to take your horse from here.” Y/N showed him how to carefully bend the horse’s leg. “It’s important to let them know that you know what you’re doing. They’re very sensitive.”

Cillian watched intensely every single move she made, how her tone was soft while she had a firm grip on the horse. He couldn’t get to move his eyes from her as she used one of the many tools to brush the mare’s neck.

“They also love to get petted.” Y/N added as she noticed Cillian got quiet. “Would you like to give it a try?”

Finally snapping from his trance, he took the brush and tentatively started to brush the mare.

“She likes that.” Y/N encouraged him noticing the little noises Goldie was making.

“She’s beautiful.” Cillian complimented.

“One of the most gentle ones I’ve seen so far.” Y/N caressed the mare from the other side, giving Cillian space to get comfortable around Goldie. “Her owner, Cia is a great friend and client.”

“And I assume the name is because of the color?” Cillian asked with interest, toiling the soft texture of Goldie.

Y/N nodded profusely.

“She’s recovering from an injury so well, now just needs some rest and she’ll be able to go back on the road in no time.” Cillian noticed the way she whispered to Goldie, looking straight into her eyes.

And she showed him how to get Goldie saddled, adding important tips and tricks to do it right, how to do it properly. It took him a few tries to do it right, but Y/N was so patient, she even admitted that was a virtue she had to thank the horses for.

“Y/N I’m sorry for not coming yesterday.” A woman approached them. “They said I could find you here.”

“Brie don’t worry, is everything alright?” Y/N asked while she eyed Cillian from the corner of her eyes.

That’s when Bries’s eyes sparkled. “Yes! Oh! Y/N… I’ve something to tell you.”

Cillian didn’t even look at them, he was totally engrossed on Goldie, all of his senses on brushing the mare, carefully to not stand behind her just like Y/N instructed. She had been answering all of his endless questions.

“Brie what’s happening?” Y/N looked at her horse trainer with curiosity.

“I just found out I’m pregnant!” She explained with excitement, unable to contain it or hide it any longer.

Y/N pulled her for a tight hug. “Brie, congratulations! This is the best news.”

There were tears in her eyes. “That’s why I couldn’t make it yesterday, I got morning sick and stayed in bed all day. But everything is perfect!”

Y/N couldn’t be happier, by the corner of his eyes, Cillian noticed the genuine smile on her face.

“Okay, so how about you go into the office and help me with the paperwork? I will be in charge for the training from now.” Y/N wrapped her arm around Brie and gave her a tender squeeze. “Made some sandwiches, help yourself.”

“That’s delicious! I brought some chips because, well cravings!” She chuckled giving Cillian a quick glance, it had been ages ago when Y/N went to the barn to give riding lessons.

Turning again towards Cillian, Y/N noticed how good he was, and he learned fast. “You’re a natural.”

Cillian smiled pleased with his improvement, he couldn’t wait to get on the horse.

“Got the best trainer to teach me.”

As time was flying, she noticed it was almost time for Arlo to come back home. “Look, how about we take a break? I need to make lunch for my son but you can join us if you want.”

“I don’t want to disturb your dynamic, Y/N.”

Y/N shook her head. “Non of that.” After caressing the horse’s ears, she added; “come have lunch with us.”

Leaving the boots right next to Y/N’s, Cillian changed into his shoes as they walked into the kitchen, finding Brie with her back at them.

“I hope you don’t mind, I made some pasta.” She smiled at them. “Enough for all of us.”

“Brie you’re going to spoil me just like that baby with some delicious food all the time? I mightjustb open the guest bedrooms and rent them.” Y/N joked leaning over the pot, the smell made her stomach growl.

“Well given the financial circumstances that isn’t a bad idea.” Brie admitted.

“Congratulations.” Added Cillian from the corner of the kitchen.

“Thank you!”

“Mum! I’ve already chose a name for the filly!” Arlo’s voice resonated from the entrance.

“Hello, good evening to you too, can you show some modals please?”

“Hello!” Arlo went to wash his hands and started helping his Mum set the table, Cillian offered to assist the kid. “Do you like riding?”

Looking at him, Cillian nodded. “I’m hoping I won’t be an embarrassment.”

“It’s easy!”

Cillian chuckled at him. “You say that because you were born riding.”

“Are you friends with my Mum? Does it means you’re my friend too?”Arlo gave him a hopeful look. Cillian answered him with a nod. “She needs some.”

Catching the last part of the conversation only Y/N approached them with the food, Brie following her steps.

“I need you to not bother our guests.” She answered and disheveled his hair playfully.

“Y/N I was thinking on what you said.” Cillian looked at her cautiously. “If you want of course… I could pay you and stay here instead of the B&B.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked considering his offer.

He nodded. “I rather stay here and use the driving time from there to here and back in learning more.” Deep down he loved the familiar energy.

“Mum, say yes! I can show Cillian my cars collection!” Arlo suggested excited.

“Well, yes. How can I say no?” She accepted earning a round of happy chants from everyone.

By the end of the day Cillian learned how to get the horse saddled, it was so important to hold it firmly in place. But also he learned to listen to the horse, he needed to make sure the horse was comfortable. Y/N suggested they could go for a walk and take the horses, it was extremely important for Cillian to learn to control the horse while being on the ground first to then be able to ride one.

The following day, they spent a good amount of time working on showing Cillian how to get on the horse, it took several attempts. It was harder than Y/N made it look. But Cillian was determined to give all of him. And more than once, he found himself staring at her until she motioned him to get closer to have a better look and he’d snap out from his trance.

In just a few days he realized Y/N had a very kind heart judging by the way she treated the horses, she showed them respect and loved them with every fiber in her body. The work she did was admirable, being right there away from everything and everyone allowed him to really understand a fundamental part of his character.

By the third day in the facility, Cia paid Goldie a visit, she wanted to take her mare back home but Y/N suggested waiting a few more days until she was fully recovered. While Y/N walked Cia to her vehicle, Cillian decided to stop by Thunder’s corral.

“Hello! Is Y/N around?” Val approached him. “Arlo said she was here.”

“She went to walk Cia out after checking her mare.”

Val doubted whether to ask him directly or not, but she knew her friend better than anyone. “I hope you don’t find me or what I’m about to say rude… but I’ve seen the way you look at her, Brie says Y/N is smiling again, something she hasn’t done much apart from Arlo of course. Do you like her?”

Cillian took a step back, surprised by Val’s sharp eye. But he ended up nodding.

“Don’t look at me like I grew another head, I care about her but I also know she has been disappointed and hurt before,” Cillian looked down, not knowing what to do or say, “she likes you, secretly.”

Val’s words made him snap his head up to look at her.

“She does, I can see it in her eyes… so all I ask is give her time, slowly just like you would start riding a horse, you don’t go galloping after getting on them. She’s like a wild horse after getting kicked so many times, she acts on defensive mode but underneath she’s a softy.”

And just as she arrived, she left, leaving Cillian alone to face an avalanche to a door he closed because when he signed the contract for the Peaky Blinders series, he decided to end the relationship he was in and making the firm decision that he’d focus on this project only.

But sometimes, life has a different plan than yours.

“I came here willing to learn how to ride, but I think I’m getting so much more than that.” Cillian confessed to the thorough, extending his hand to caress the horse’s muzzle.

***

Part 2

A/N: Nothing, just THANK YOU! ✨♥️🚬🥃

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @ironpen @kittycatcait219 @shelundeadxxxx @speckledemerald @creativepawsworld

[indigo-graves]

This Dance | Joe Liebgott

It wasn’t often that the bulk of Easy Company had privileges on a weekend. Evelyn convinced herself it was absolutely because she had threatened all of the men within an inch of their life. If she had to spend one more weekend at camp, she would surely short circuit. So when they made it through the end of training on Friday, she was able to let out what felt like a breath she had been holding all week. 

When she exited her separate living quarters, several of the company’s other members were waiting for her. Talbert let out a whistle, earning himself a smack in the back of the head from Toye. Evelyn rolled her eyes in response, giving Toye a smile of approval. 

“Ready, darlin’?” Bull Randleman, her dearest friend, questioned. She nodded. Briefly, her eyes locked with Liebgott, who was biting back a smirk, quickly distracting himself with the cigarette he could put between his lips.

“Ready,” she said, smoothing her skirt decisively and turning on her heel. She had hoped they would mistake the blush rising in her cheeks as rouge. 

Three drinks in, the blush in her cheeks was permanent. The bar they had found themselves comfortable in was hot. The Georgia heat mingled with the warmth of too many bodies in a small venue. The wafting clouds of smoke from cigarettes only thickened the air. She was thankful to sit lower than the rest of them in her seat due to her petite stature, most of it traveled over her head. 

“Fifty bucks says I get the first Kraut kill when we hit Europe,” Guarnere spoke confidently. His accent only seemed to get thicker with each beer he downed. 

“Bullshit,” Toye challenged, slammed a hand down on the table, causing all of their drinks to rattle. Chuckles echoed in response. 

“Yeah?” Guarnere grinned, “you gonna get to ‘em before me?” 

“There’s not a doubt,” Toye lit a cigarette casually. “One gust of wind and your ass will end up in the middle of the Atlantic while I’m on Hitler’s doorstep.” He jabbed at the smaller man. The table roared with laughter and Guarnere chuckled through gritted teeth. 

“I’ll take both your money and take your broads out to dinner with it,” Luz spoke confidently, throwing his hat in the ring. 

“Whatdya say we get a dance in while these boys get out their measuring tape?” Bull nudged Evelyn with a smile. She chuckled, threw back the rest of her drink, and got to her feet. 

As the next song started to play on the jukebox, the two of them found space in the section of the room that was being used by a few other soldiers and their female partners. She felt Bull pull her close, surprised that he was so keen on dancing. 

When Liebgott surveyed the room, he felt a drop in his guts. Through the haze of cigarette smoke and crowd of patrons, he watched as Evelyn moved gracefully in the arms of Bull Randleman. He watched Bull’s hand, splayed at the small of her back, and remembered what it felt like the first time she let him touch her. He thought about the way her breath tickled his ear and neck when he held her that close. The things she had told him. Even more, the noises he had drawn out of her when they were flush against one another in that same way. 

He watched her rhythm, knowing it so intimately himself. The way he held those same hips as he guided her into that same rhythm in their most passionate moments. He thought about what it sounded like when she stifled herself, bit at her lips, his shoulder, the pillow, in attempts to keep their dance so secret. And here, he had to sit back and watch as she so publicly danced with someone else. 

“Liebgott,” there was an elbow in his lower ribs. 

He turned to Talbert, realizing the cigarette in his hand had burned down to a nub in neglect. Talbert furrowed a brow but asked now questions. Liebgott got to his feet and excused himself from the table, leaving his fourth beer nearly untouched behind him. 

When the song ended, Bull let go of her waist and thanked her for the dance. She scrunched her nose with a smile at him. He tried to escort her back to their table, stating that surely some of their other company members would want a chance to dance with her. She provided him with a kind excuse, letting him know she was going to get some air and she’d be right back. Only twice did she have to argue that she would be just outside the door, where she had seen both Winters and Nixon standing. He agreed, only content when knowing she had chaperones. Rolling her eyes at the endearing concern, she navigated the compact crowd of people toward the door. 

Anyone in their sober mind would have clearly observed the level of intent she had seen in Liebgott’s stare for the majority of her dance with Bull. There was an anger that had ignited in her that made it difficult to focus on Bull in those moments. Liebgott had made her a lot of promises, many of them in the throws of passion, that she had not taken with more than a grain of salt. But when she made him promise to keep the extent to which they had become acquainted to himself, she was sure he understood the severity of the matter. 

Liebgott stood outside of the bar, his back resting against the building next door at the mouth of an alley. He knew he could only get away with a few minutes away from the company. Someone would come shouting for him before too long. 

He was surprised when he saw Evelyn exit the bar with a relieved sigh. She nodded to Winters and Nixon, who were standing just to the right of the entrance, enjoying the much less congested air. They addressed her in kind, Nixon held up a glass toward her with a small smile. A less raw version of himself would not have had the intrusive image of himself taking a set of brass knuckles to Nixon’s straight, white, Yale-boy grin. A better version of himself, maybe. 

When Evelyn’s eyes connected with his, her smile fell. The hard line that set along her lips let him know that whatever it was that she was going to share with him, it was not going to provide any solace to his bruised ego. 

“You,” she gritted her teeth as she got closer to him. She glanced over her shoulder to assure herself that there were no interested ears. “You have got to get it together, Joe.” Liebgott bit the inside of his cheek at the sound of his name on her lips. He had only heard it when it bubbled up from deep in her chest in her most vulnerable, passionate moments. God damn, she was so fucking beautiful. 

“What?” He was genuinely confused. How was it that he was getting in trouble for her dancing with Bull? 

“You,” she shoved his shoulder. It was then that he smelled the liquor on her breath. She had been close enough to him that he had also caught the sweetness of her perfume. Something in him ached. “Looking at me like that.” 

He chuckled a little at her. How threatening she was, how powerful. But he knew her soft edges. He knew those vulnerable moments. He knew her fear. He had swallowed it whole for her with the slip of her tongue. He knew her. 

“Looking at you like what?” He asked. His voice teased her in a way that drew goosebumps to the surface of her skin. He stepped forward, daring her to close the distance between them. Her eyes fluttered in response, her tongue tied. She did not respond. He smiled slyly, not able to help the shift between them. This was his place. Standing before her, teasing her, flustering her. Did Bull fucking Randleman do that? 

“Don’t do that to me,” she snapped out of her daze. She steeled herself, squared her shoulders, put a step of distance between their bodies. The haze of the moment passed and she remembered just how public a venue he had started this dance in. 

“Do what?” Those coy responses were what got Evelyn into this mess in the first place. He wanted her to get drunk on him. Addicted to him. 

“If you get us caught, you know what will happen,” she threatened. Joe nodded in response. There were no playful replies to bite back when the reality of what they had gotten themselves into was brought up. She had told him the conditions of her presence with the company. Should anyone catch wind of anything unsavory, she was done. 

She knew he understood how much her career meant to her. She knew he respected it. Respected her. He, however, knew that maybe his deepest fear was that he did not know if he would ever see her again. And that reality was even more frightening than what he had waiting for him on the other side of the ocean. 

Joe nodded, clenching his jaw. They stood at the mouth of that alley, wordlessly standing in the mud of their own making. She reached over, the softness of her fingers against his, caused him to jerk his head up in response, looking over her shoulder at the officers just ten feet from them. She boldly stroked the inside of his palm with her delicate fingers. The same way she did when they laid lazily in her bed under the cover of darkness, sweaty, glowing, and drunk on one another. 

“Don’t make this end before it has to,” she squeezed his hand. “Please.” 

Joe met her eyes. The dimensions of light and dark in them were picked up by the streetlamp. He wanted desperately to wrap his arms around her, tighter than Bull or any man could ever fucking hold her. He wanted to kiss her, taste every unsaid word on her lips. To touch her in ways that would leave her gasping, begging, crying out for more of him. He wanted to tell her that his days started and ended with her. Every single one of them since the moment his mouth tasted hers.

“Evie!” There was a shout from behind them. She pulled away from him with a jolt, her curtain of dark hair whipped around her shoulders. 

“You’ve got a line of men in here wondering when they’re getting their dance!” Nixon called, speaking for the masses he was gesturing to inside the building. 

“Yes, sir!” She responded, smiling brightly. She turned to Joe briefly. He swallowed the ball of fire making its way up from his belly. ‘Be good,’ she mouthed at him. She turned on her heel, the sweet smell of her perfume wafting behind her as she made her way back to the bar. Joe let out an exasperated sigh and reached into his pocket for a cigarette. 

[sadsongsandstories]

I love that the BOSBAS book sets up Snow as having this sudden and violent hatred towards Mockingjays as soon as he sees them. And like, there are thematic reasons, they represent a failure of the capitol, challenging its assumed superiority. They also pose a threat to his world view, singing for no vested interest other than the pleasure of singing. In a world of cruelty and chaos, how could anything sing so freely??

But aside from all the brilliant meaningful themes, it's just hilarious to think of Snow having random beef with some birds. And proceeding to petition for them all to be shot down and killed, which they then attempt and fail at. And of course, it is the Mockingjays that haunt him from the trees with echoes of Lucy Grey's song.

More hilarious still, is the idea that some 65 years later, as an established president with a firm grip on the entire nation, some girl shows up at the annual child murder games you've been running wearing a Mockingjay pin. Then the same girl becomes a nuisance and challenges your world order, only to ignore your attempt to control and suppress her, and, when you create a quarter quell to destroy her, her designer burns away the wedding dress you made her wear to turn her into an ornate Mockingjay, standing on stage for the nation to see. Then she somehow survives the second games, joins the rebellion and fully embraces the Mockingjay persona, ultimately destroying you and your capitol.

Oh and best of all, she uses your dead loves song to do so, repeating it once again like all good Mockingjays should.

He must have been pissed!! And I for one, am all for that!!

Also Lucy Grey was definitely laughing from through the trees and across the wind.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello! First of all I wanna say thank you for actively writing about ror (I love your scenario of ror characters as a big family and adopting y/n, that's really comforting), I absolutely love your works. May I request ror characters (hades, heracles, raiden, buddha, hermes) as a big brother with teenager! reader as their little sister? Reader looks tough on the outside but soft on the inside and love to cling on her brother. She's smol if compared to her brother but actually strong and has protective side. Thanks in advance!

-When comparing you to your older brother, who is much taller, when you stand beside him, you look like an angry kitten, ready to strike.

-You had a wall up around you, meant to keep others out, as you had a hard time trusting anyone other than your big brother.

-Neither you nor he knows where this distrust came from, but you were hostile towards others, but due to your petite size, not many took you seriously.

-You were like a child when it came to him, clinging to him when others were around, glaring at them, not wanting anyone to get close to him, protecting him as he had always protected you.

-Hades- Found your angry protectiveness over him amusing but also adorable, as you were the youngest of his four siblings and the only girl. You would pout and cling to him when women came around, trying to flirt with him, as you knew he wasn’t interested in them, because he would tell you if he was. Hades has no hesitation putting others in their place if they insult you, asking why you were acting like a child, clinging to your brother when you were a teenager. You would always win in his eyes; you were his favorite after all.

-Hercules- You were barely half his size, something he learned not to tease you about, as you’re sensitive about your height, but he knows that you can be strong in your own right, but if someone mentions your height, he has to hold you back from murdering someone. He was very protective of you and found it amusing when you started to do the same, trying to protect him, glaring at others who tried to get close to him, but everyone compared you to a kitten, which didn’t help your temper.

-Raiden- You were so petite compared to him that most of the time you were hanging from his shoulders, arms around his neck. He could barely feel you, but he was always careful when he knew you were there, as he didn’t want to hurt you. Found it hilarious when you tried to protect him from others, people who would come to challenge him and you would always wind up red-faced when they would laugh at you. That’s when your big brother would step in, defending you.

-Buddha- You two were cuddly, snack eating gremlins, and Buddha found it amusing when you started to get more protective of him, holding his hand, not wanting to get separated, like he was the child and not the other way around. He enjoyed the attention, seeing you stick up for him, showing your claws at times, but due to your size, not many took you seriously, until Buddha flared his own aura from behind you, intimidating them as well, not willing to let anyone badmouth you.

-Hermes- You had two big brothers, Ares and Hermes, but Ares could protect himself, which would make him swell with pride at your praise, making him feel fluffy. Hermes felt the same way when you started to cling to his arm, escorting him, and not the other way around, as you wanted to protect him. He found it amusing but also honorable, thinking you were so sweet for trying to defend him against others, even when he could do it himself, but he wasn’t going to burst your bubble, he didn’t want to upset you.

[shadowphoenixrider]

(So I maybe got a teeny tiny bit inspired by my friend @driftinglightofthewoods 's fic Floral Language and accidentally my own fic in her universe. Oops? It's fluff because apparently I haven't written enough of that. Enjoy!)

The tree boughs were heavy with their spring blossoms, the air around them equally dense with scent.

Shadow wandered among them, occasionally stopping to stand on tip-toe, pulling branches down to briefly smell the flowers before continuing on her way. She was grateful for this peace she'd found, glad that she'd managed to wriggle out of refereeing the basketball game going back on at the mansion. She might not have Drifting's powers of invisibility, but as her name suggested, she could slip away and vanish from company if she wanted to.

She paused under a tree so festooned with small white blossoms that it was if it was covered in snow, the odd petal fluttering down to rest on the forest floor. Its branches were higher above her head, stretching for the light with its other fellows, its fat knobbly trunk suggesting its great age.

How many springs had it seen? The tree was probably as old as Logan, perhaps even older. Despite her curiosity, Shadow knew better than to ask him about the past - not that he would be forthcoming anyway. She could understand that. Yet she still wondered what the tree could tell her if they could talk. Even if their interests would be widely different, Shadow wanted to know. How did a creature whose life easily stretched into the centuries perceive time compared to her, who lived in a mere fraction of that? To it she was probably no more than an elderly bug.

Completely absorbed by her thoughts, Shadow didn't notice someone was approaching until a deep, smooth voice sounded about behind her.

"So this is where ya got to, petite."

Shadow jumped, spinning around to see Gambit, hands in his pockets and that easy smirk on his face.

"Fuck, Gambit!" She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "Don't scare me like that." He chuckled, unrepentant. "Well...Yeah. You know me, I'm not one for basketball. Or sports in general." She replied, folding her arms. "Did you win?"

"Of course." Was his response, slowly walking up next to her. Shadow made a note to check that later. "Woulda been nice to see ya. Even Drifting was dere."

"Ironic that you managed to find the one mutant who you'd think would have hiding down pat," said Shadow wryly.

"Ah, but Rogue don't know ya like I do." Gambit commented, the smirk on his features widening. "Gambit found you de day of de storm, an' he found you now." He stepped a little closer. Shadow arched an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah well, I was a stationary target back then. Think you could track a moving one without Logan's nose, Cajun?"

"Dat sounds like a challenge, mon amie." His smirk turned into a grin, and he lowered his head to her. "Dere a reward if Gambit finds you?"

"The reward is finding me and getting to be smug about it." Shadow replied, flicking his nose. "I didn't come out here for cat and mouse games anyway. I needed some calm."

Gambit pulled back, his ardour immediately cooling. His gaze flicked up the tree towering above them, a slight wisp of wind knocking a drizzle of petals to tumble to the floor.

"Beautiful time o' year." He murmured softly. "Few times dat make me miss New Orleans."

Shadow glanced over to him.

"How so?" She quietly asked.

"Springtime be beautiful even down in de bayou, chère." He explained gently. "Dese big pink flowers from de bushes and trees, dere be so much colour..." His gaze was far away, in another lifetime.

"You ever want to go back someday?" She ventured.

Gambit's face fell and for a moment, she saw indecision flicker across his features, just before a mask slipped over the top.

"No. Gambit can't go back, even if he want to," he said. "Not dat he want too. Too much bad blood." He turned to her, that knowing smirk on his face, for once completely fake. "'Sides, Gambit got de X-men an' you now, non?"

Shadow nodded.

"I can understand that," she said, smiling softly. "Sometimes it's just best to push forward, right? Find joy in the blossoms of other places."

Gambit watched her for a moment, his face unreadable. Then, a small smile tugged at his lips.

"Yeah, could say that, petite." He agreed, his eyes following her gaze back to the tree she was looking up at. "Any reason ya picked dis one?"

"Oh! No real reason." Shadow smiled shyly. "Just...thinking. And admiring it."

"Certainly be a pretty one." Gambit agreed, stepping closer to it. "Ya like de white ones?"

"I don't mind pink or white." Shadow replied, watching the Cajun eyeing the flowers above them. "I've always preferred the white ones, though. I guess I think the pink can look a bit sickly sweet, if you know what I mean?"

"Too much?" He suggested, glancing back at her.

"A little, yeah. I mean, I do love cherry blossoms, that light pink colour, but some can get too vivid for me..." She chuckled ruefully. "Not that these flowers are grown for me anyway."

"Jus' cos dey be for bees don't mean you can't have an opinion on dem." Gambit spoke, raising up on his feet to grasp one of the heavily laden branches, gently pulling it down with him. "Hey chère, c'mere," he said softly.

Shadow moved over to his side, gently taking hold of the branch full of small white flowers, their petals rounded, no bigger than her thumbnail. Leaning forward, she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. The blossoms were sweet smelling, yet not overpowering, despite their density. They reminded her of the pretty blackthorn blooms of her childhood, such sweet flowers for such a fiercesome thorny bush. That could also be said of several mutants of the X-Mansion...

When her eyes flickered back open, she saw Gambit watching her, a fond smile on his face and a softness to his red and black eyes that made her heart skip a beat. He was already a good-looking man, but framed by the flowers of the branch he was holding - he was beautiful.

"Had ya fill, Shadow?" Gambit asked, his deep voice soft and tender.

"Yeah, thank you." She smiled back at him.

He carefully released his grip, the branch springing back up into the crown with a hissing rustle. In so doing, it shook a large number of petals free, and they showered down onto the pair below.

"Oh hey Cajun, looks like you got a few little somethings on you." Shadow giggled, reaching up to sweep them off Gambit's broad shoulders.

"Could say de same for you too, mon amie!" He grinned, doing the same for her.

He reached up to brush them from her hair, before he hesitated, hand frozen in the air over her cheek.

"May I?" He asked, softly.

Shadow nodded slightly.

"Yeah, of course."

Even with permission, Gambit delicately plucked each petal free of her curls, dropping them to the side to fall around her. When he was done, his hand remained, hovering by the side of her head as if he couldn't bring himself to pull away.

Gambit gently reached forward, brushing back some of Shadow's hair that was trying to fall into her eyes with his finger. When his hand lingered, she leaned into it, letting their skin touch. His eyes widened, his hand jerking with the instinctive need to pull away, but he overcame it, opening it up to cup her cheek.

Most of his large hand was clad in black fingerless gloves, but his touch was gentle, calloused fingertips grazing over soft pale skin. Shadow gazed up into his dark eyes, wide in wonder and surprise, before they softened, a look in them that filled her with warmth from the core of her chest to the tips of her toes.

Gambit stepped closer, lowering his head towards her. Shadow moved closer too, tilting her chin up to meet the Cajun, reaching up to cup the back of his neck. There was a heartbeat, maybe two, where they were so close the tips of their noses nearly brushed.

And then they leaned in, pressing their lips together.

Time stopped, for a moment. The outside world fell away; in these seconds that felt like minutes, all that mattered was just them, together.

An indeterminate about of seconds later, they pulled away, eyes flickering open. Charcoal black with crimson red met bone white and teal blue, gazing deeply into one another, both a little stunned by what had just happened.

Shadow smiled shyly, an answering smile growing across Gambit's lips as well.

Suddenly the sound of someone clearing their throat sounded out, and the pair recoiled from one other. They whipped their heads around to see Drifting standing there, her arms folded, alongside Nightcrawler, a mischievous grin playing on his dark, furry face.

"'Just friends', huh?" Drifting said, arching an eyebrow. Shadow blushed bright red, glancing away from the equally awkward blushing Cajun, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So this is where you got to, Shadow." Nightcrawler spoke. "Perhaps Rogue should check the forest for you first next time."

"I coulda told ya that." Gambit grumbled, trying to regain some sort of initiative.

This was not to be when Nightcrawler grinned widely, poofing right next to Gambit's side in a flash of purple smoke.

"Ah, of course mein freund! I have heard of your expertise in tracking her down!" He leant against Gambit's shoulder, fixing the pouting Cajun with his golden eyes. "It makes sense for a man of your profession to be familiar with shadows, after all."

"I-Is there a reason you guys came out here?" Shadow stuttered, trying to find her composure.

"We have Danger Room simulations in half an hour." Drifting replied flatly. "Remember?"

"Oh, shit!" Shadow cursed, stepping over to her. "Sorry Drifting, it completely slipped my mind!"

"I wonder why." Drifting smirked, her green eyes flicking briefly over to Gambit.

"Allow me to help you both get back to the mansion." Nightcrawler smiled, appearing next to the two women. He glanced over his shoulder. "Are you coming with us, Gambit?"

"Ah, I'll take de scenic route." He replied, looking away from them. "Gambit got a lot to think about."

"I'm sure you do." Commented Drifting, resulting in Gambit grumbling something under his breath, and Shadow rolling her eyes.

"We will see you soon!" Nightcrawler said, and in a blast of purple smoke, the trio was gone.

Gambit groaned, resting his forehead against the tree's trunk.

He wasn't going to live this down any time soon...

[lexlawuk]

Companies Winding Up Cause List (26 November 2024)

ROLLS BUILDING BEFORE CHIEF INSOLVENCY AND COMPANIES COURT JUDGE BRIGGS List updated: 26 November 2024 1:28pm JudgeTimeVenueTypeCase  numberCase nameChief Insolvency and Companies Court   Judge Briggs10:30amRolls Building, court 1Winding up petitionCR-2024-001477 Rosney Joinery Contractors LtdChief Insolvency and Companies Court   Judge Briggs10:30amRolls Building, court 1Winding up…

[petit-papillion]

FP1: Carlos drove despite a fever and "suffering from the consequences of a bout of food poisoning" (according to Ferrari). Charles vacuumed up some plastic bags and commented it was like Mario Kart out there. Charles ended up in P5, Carlos P6, with VER, ALO and PER as the top 3.

FP2: The wind died down somewhat for the evening practice. The session had a delayed start due to.. surprise, securing loose drain covers. Charles finished P4, Carlos P7. Top 3: ALO, RUS, VER.

FP3: Overnight Carlos was diagnosed with appendicitis. He underwent surgery, which thankfully went well. Speedy recovery, Carlos! Ollie Bearman will replace Carlos for the rest of the weekend. After getting pole in F2 yesterday, today, he made his debut in an F1 car as the youngest driver ever for Ferari. Zhou crashed with about 20 minutes left, causing a red flag. Ollie finished P10, Charles P2 in between the Red Bulls.

Petit's Race Notes:

Carlos showed up in the paddock, walking very gingerly, allegedly against doctor's orders, to support Charles and Ollie.

Pierre reported mechanical issues on the formation lap and Alpine retired the car almost immediately after the race start

Lando had a jump start, it seemed, but because no transponder was triggered, he didn't get a penalty

Early in the race, Lance clipped the wall, broke his suspension and slammed into the wall. Thankfully he was okay - the car not so much.

Everyone, except a handful of drivers, pitted under the safety car, leading to a very busy pitlane, and some penalties for impeding for Checo and Yuki.

Oscar (who had pitted for hards) got stuck behind Lewis (on mediums, not pitted) for 28 laps, even passing him twice but having to give back the position. He only got rid of him when HAM pitted at last.

Kevin Magnussen earned himself 20 seconds in penalties (causing a collision, gaining a position off-track) and decided to hold up the DRS train to allow Hulk enough time to pit and not lose his P10 position. Nice team work there, K-Mag.

Ollie Bearman did a phenomenal job. After starting P11, he was stuck behind a slow Haas for a while, but eventually finished P7 on his F1 debut. 👏👏👏

Max, whose only challenge was passing Lando early on, and then lapping backmarkers, tried to get the fastest at the end of the race, but was beaten by Charles who cleverly used DRS.

Fastest lap: Charles Leclerc

Driver of the Day: Oliver Bearman

Fastest pit stop: 2.44 by Red Bull/Max Verstappen

[nightsprung]

bee has brainstormed new ocs! here's the short rundown:

sloane kelly, 20, cis female, diana silvers. sloane has always been a relatively quiet and unassuming person. little does her sleepy town of yellowknife, ohio know that she's the mysterious voice of the observer, the host of semi-hit nighttime radio show the watch. the show delves into stories of the paranormal, supernatural and occult, and especially puts the town of yellowknife under a critical lens when it demands to find answers to several inexplicable disappearances over the years.

julie mason, 28, cis female samantha logan. julie mason is a well-enough known name to the public. one of the most promising and revered athletic talents to come through UCLA's women's basketball team with sights set on a professional career with the WNBA, those dreams were ripped away cruelly in a collision with a drunk driver on the way home from a championship victory party when she was 22 years old. since then, julie completed her schooling in psychology, obtained her masters and now works in mental health therapy, specializing with athletes.

harlow olson, 22, cis female, maya hawke. spontaneous is one way to describe harlow's childhood. turbulent is another. she never knew much about her father, and her mother was always free-spirited to a fault that forced harlow to grow up faster than she should have. multiple new schools, multiple new cities and towns, multiple new places decorated her childhood and teen years but none of them ever felt enough like home. she'd balance her dreams of attending film school with the realities of having to work countless hours in her spare time to help cover bills; and even then, it wouldn't stop debt collectors from finding them. in the midst of her adolescence, harlow tracked down her birth father and found he could offer her something her mother never could - stability. she petitioned to move in with him in an effort to have a more "normal" life as a teenager - a job to cover her own whims instead of bills, the same teachers semester to semester, a consistent group of friends. after high school, she finds herself studying film at NYU as she had always dreamed, but there's still some pieces of her that feel fractured. missing.

skyler cauldwell, 23, nonbinary (she/they), ayo edebiri. skyler has always been adept with technology; growing up in the digital age certainly helped with that. it's no wonder she ended up studying computer engineering in college, with the hopes of a promising career in cybersecurity. life is relatively normal for them; they have challenging courses, a core group of friends, several extracurriculars that eat up their time, debate team included. she's set to go to nationals with the rest of the team her senior year, but comes down with a nasty case of bronchitis days before the team is set to fly out to the competition and has to concede her spot to the alternate. the guilt they feel when the top news story a few days from that point is on the missing flight the team was on. months later it'd be discovered that the plane had crashed on an uninhabited island, and only a few members from the team survived.

summer beaumont, 19, cis female, sadie stanley. summer beaumont is your quintessential girl-next-door type. she's never had a bad thing to say about anybody and you're more likely to find her getting a cat out of a tree than doing anything particularly thrilling. it's no wonder that she's celebrating finishing her first year of undergrad by spending two months of her summer as a counselor at camp pinewood. she's great with the campers, especially the younger ones, and is always happy to cover for her fellow counselors, so long as they extend the same courtesy when she needs it. she will need it, by the way - typically on nights when the moon is full and the wind is howling. yeah, definitely the wind. don't mind the fact that she spends most of the next day in her bunk, or that her favorite pair of keds have been discarded completely for a fresh pair.

(reading this back summer sounds like a werewolf - she's not lmao. but she hunts them, and other monsters! a girl needs hobbies, after all!)

melanie ford, eternally 27, cis female, ella purnell. melanie ford has been dead for years now. the definitive story is a drug overdose, but she swears she'd never touch the hard stuff. no, this wannabe socialite has standards! the truth of the matter is melanie's death was far from an accident, and until the mystery around her demise is solved, she's cursed to continue walking the earth. in the meantime, she's trying to bide her time in limbo by doing good deeds, in the hope that it'll balance out some of the less than savory things she did while she was alive and secure her a spot in the good place.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

⚡ Tricked into Temptation: Chapter Two

Tricked into Temptation: When Leona Nolan accidentally found out that Dr. Harrison Wells, her friend’s mentor, was the very same man who killed his mother, she was at a loss. Throwing caution to the wind, she decides to dive head first into a mission to collect information on Team Flash’s latest enemy. What she doesn’t realize, however, is that the party she is going to, isn’t your ordinary party and that someone has been keeping a close eye on her.

Warnings: FILTH! Obviously Explicit Material (Unprotected Sex is a No No), Language, Possessive Sex Because EoWells is a Horny Boi Who Doesn’t Like to Share (And Really Doesn’t Like Apollo For Touching His Woman), OC Taunts EoWells (Not Advised), Death Threats, Dirty Talk.

To Note: EoWells x Petite!NAMEDReader

Prompt: That’s how you want me, isn’t it? Desperate, jealous, and willing to kill for you?

Word Count: ~6.7k

Previous | Masterlist

The Sapphire room was quickly left behind, and all the while you remained perched on Hades’s shoulder. You were starting to wonder where you were going when the club blurred and your stomach lurched. You didn’t even have time to sink your nails into the soft black material before you found yourself in a different room, a smaller one and a bathroom by the looks of it. Once you got your senses back, you gave the black back a hearty shove and tried to rip yourself off his shoulder. Naturally, he was faster. In another whirlwind of wind and red electricity, the bathroom counter was pressing hard into your lower back as you were bent backward over it, a very livid Harrison Wells glaring down at you.

“Harris—“ You didn’t even get his first name before he was ripping into you, his blue eyes glowing red in anger.

“That’s how you want me, isn’t it? Desperate, jealous, and willing to kill for you?” He spat out, his rage palpable around you like a cloud of heavy smog. His hand was on your left thigh, and judging by his grip, he was one hundred percent truthful with his words. But you didn’t shrink before him, your own eyes blazing to life.

“You don’t get to play that card!” You fired back, your words equally hot and vicious. “Not after what I—“

“What?” He cut you off again, his eyes dimming from that red glow but still just as dark. “After you learned who I really am? After you learned what I can do and what I am not?”

Steam poured out of your ears, and you threw your hand in his face, then jabbed your finger into his chest.

“You killed Barry’s mother!” You hissed, his lips twisted into a cruel smirk.

“Oh, I’ve done worse, Leona.” Harrison countered, his face closing in on yours. You could feel the heat from his skin and his lips, and it made your own skin crawl with want. “And I can guarantee that this is the last time anyone will touch you like that.”

“You’re not the boss of me, and I doubt you would kill for me.” You snipped back, glaring into his blazing gaze. His eyebrow rose, and Harrison chuckled darkly.

“Oh? I wouldn’t underestimate what I would do to keep you as mine. You won’t like the result.” His words whispered across your skin and raised the hairs on your neck… but you didn’t believe him, and he certainly didn’t control you… so you lifted your chin in challenge.

“Yeah? Watch me! I’m sure Apollo will be a good and thorough fuck given all the dirty things he was whispering in my ear,” You said with a smug smirk. Jerking yourself from his grasp, you stepped around him and went to head for the door. You didn’t even get past Harrison when his hand closed around your arm, and he twirled you around.

Back once again slamming into the edge of the countertop, you winced as a spike of pain went up your spine. Your head was pulled back by your pinned hair, and in less than a second, Harrison’s mouth was pressing against yours in a punishing kiss. You weren’t lying when describing the kiss as punishing because that’s exactly what it felt like. But you were determined not to fold beneath him because that would mean giving in. Unfortunately, it was quickly proving to be a difficult task with the aggression currently exploding between you two.

Teeth scraped and tugged at your lower lip, drawing a ragged moan from your lips. The sound you were drawing from him spurred him on, and slipping a hand to your lower back, you were pulled further against his chest, your heels now just barely scraping the floor. Aggravated by the height difference and still somewhat horny from the Sapphire room, you reached up and sank your fingers into his neatly combed black hair. Then you tugged, hard.

Harrison’s lips pressed harder against yours from your action, and you quickly pressed back, gobbling up the intensity that this stupid club had stirred within your veins. Or maybe it was the alcohol that was talking… either way, you wanted him, and you wanted him now. At least Harrison seemed to be in the same frame of mind, or worse, actually. You hadn’t realized that he was a jealous type, and now that you knew what he was and what he was capable of, you knew that his threats weren’t empty ones.

A growl rumbled from deep within his chest, and you felt him bite at your lower lip, which drew a groan from yours. You twisted the strands of hair in your grasp around your fingertips, winding them as tight as you could while lifting, pressing your body up against his. You could feel the luxurious material of Harrison’s black suit against your chest, and it only made your thirst and hunger for him worse. So the next time Harrison’s lips took a pass at yours, you bit back.

Of course, you only tugged on his lip for a few moments, but it was more than enough to earn you a retaliation. Harrison wrenched your head back, separating your lips so you were staring up into his darkened, lust-filled eyes. A giggle slipped from your lips as you registered the look in his eyes. He was angry with you, but he was also just as turned on as you were and most definitely interested in relieving the tension.

“Careful, you’re testing my limits, Leona,” his low and guttural warning only had you giggling harder and then to an outright laugh. He must not have liked that because Harrison had a hand on your leg and slipped his fingers roughly across your skin until he reached the apex of your thighs. Heat instantly flooded up your neck and to your cheeks as long and nimble fingers languidly stroked through your folds. Your entire body shuddered while your painted lips parted in a drawn-out moan. Harrison’s blazing look of anger melted into smug satisfaction as your back arched once more.

Your heel-covered feet kicked out as you squirmed against Harrison and his relentless electric touches. Toes curling in your heels, vibrations erupted as those dastardly fingers of his pushed themselves into your body. You felt your spine go rigid as your lungs seized in your chest. Sharp blue eyes stared triumphantly down in yours and clenching your fingers around the strands of hair you had in your grasp, you dragged the nails of your other hand down the luxurious fabric of his sleeve.

From deep within your body, you could feel that electric fire that wanted to blaze across your skin in an inferno like no other you had experienced before. You knew that just from the way your heart raced and the blood beneath your skin made your face hot that you would crumble in a heap of ash in seconds. The bastard knew this as well, because a few seconds later, he leaned down and began drawing his lips across your sensitive neck until you totally fell apart.

Body going rigid in Harrison’s entrapment, you were ignorant of the biting pain of marble digging into your back as sizzling wildfire rushed through your veins and you felt yourself gushing around still vibrating fingers. This man was a monster and you still wanted more. Gasping for air, your chest heaved while you panted and shuddered in place. Your eyelids fluttered as you looked up at him with a dazed expression.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” you haughtily questioned, a breathless chuckle escaping your lips. You could have sworn the room darkened the moment those words left your painted lips, but you did verify that Harrison’s blue eyes vibrated that eery red color for a split second. Pushing his buttons was rather enjoyable just by watching his reaction to your words. But perhaps not the brightest idea when he was already enraged by your earlier actions…

Once again, he was moving before your mind could catch up to the fact that he had moved in the first place. Your bare tailbone hit cool marble and falling back a little, you were forced to realize Harrison to stop yourself from smashing your head back against the mirror. Breathing quickened again, you looked up into darkened blue eyes, your smirk falling from your lips. You should probably stop teasing and taunting him.

“Are you going to leave me high and dry?” you questioned, your eyebrow arching as you tilted your head. It was Harrison’s turn to smirk and arch an eyebrow. A hand on your thigh pushed upwards, fingers heading back to your sopping wet core. You shivered and let out a barely audible moan when his thumb stroked through your most definitely not dry core.

“I think I need to teach you on the correct definition of dry,” Harrison husked out, roughly dragging his hand back out from beneath your feather-light skirts. Your eyes stared into his in challenge until he stuck his glistening fingers into his mouth. You could have sworn your eyes bulged for a moment shortly before you were whimpering. The man even had the balls to clean each of his fingers one at a damn time! God, that was hot… and it was not helping your predicament.

“Teach away then, Hades,” you whispered, dropping your attitude and looking into his eyes with clear need and want echoing in yours. Hands gripped your bare hips and you were yanked to the edge of the marble counter as Harrison dripped his head down, lips crashing against yours once more. You latched onto his face with a hand to hold that panty-melting mouth to yours while you voraciously chased after a head-spinning high. Strong hands roughly pushed against your thighs, brushing back the feather-light strands of your dress until nimble fingers pushed your legs further apart. You dropped your head back as teeth tugged on your lip, and then let out a gasp when Harrison pushed his cock straight into your body.

The toe-tingling pleasure that had been sizzling away in your veins for half the night combusted into a fireball of intense need. A strangled gurgle caught in the back of your throat which spurred Harrison to press his dastardly hot lips against your extended neck and lay a smattering of kisses that sent electric shivers down your spine. This man was going to be your undoing and he wasn’t even moving yet. Breathing heavily, you lifted your head so your eyes could meet darkened ones and just as you were slowly getting lost in the vortex of blue, he started moving.

On his first thrust, a rush of pleasure jolted you, so fierce and sizzling that for a few seconds, you forgot to breathe. Your eyes were still locked with his, but now they were wide and half shrouded in lust. Then your lips parted in a tremble as hips continually met yours, hard, fast, and nearly earth-shattering. You felt your eyes roll back slightly at the feelings Harrison was producing, and your back arched, pushing your hips up so the next time he thrust forwards, your hips crashed together. He smirked down at you, his expression telling you that he knew exactly how he was making you feel. You didn’t like how smug he was being.

You pulled his head back down, determined to devour that smug smirk off his face and grapple some sort of control back. Biting at his lip once more, you swiped your tongue across the seam of his barely parted lips. Harrison retaliated by sliding a hand to your back and jerking your body up against his so he had more leverage. With that, he took back control of the kiss, his tongue sliding across your buzzing lips until they parted in a strained moan. Now you were literally tongue-tied with him, and you could feel your walls clamping down harder with each thrust, your body desperately trying not to let the feeling of fullness disappear.

Your fingers slipped back against his cheek to grasp his hair in a white-knuckle grip, your hips bucking up against Harrison’s harder with every second that passed. You could feel Harrison’s soft chuckles against your mouth as he detached his mouth and leaned his head down to bite at the flesh of your barely covered breasts. You couldn’t help the yelp when his teeth bit into the soft flesh and his tongue swirled across your trapped skin. You yanked at his hair, jerking against his body and trying to keep your breathing steady, rather than ragged and untamed. You were failing.

The muscles of your inner thighs went taut when Harrison hit a spot deep within your body that flooded your face with heat and made your entire body stiff with mind-numbing pleasure. You cried out, digging your nails into his scalp and hiking up a leg across his hip to tug him closer. His lips released your breast and dragged a wet trail up your chest to your neck where he once more bit down. You were better prepared this time, but a yelp still slipped from your lips. It felt like he was branding your neck with his lips, leaving behind a trail of stinging skin you weren’t so sure would be clear come tomorrow.

“Harrison,” you whimpered out, your leg trembling on his waist. You felt like you were only seconds away from losing it all to pleasure. Between intoxicated kisses that left you permanently breathless, bites that were meant to leave marks, and thrusts that you would surely feel tomorrow, you weren’t sure what would tip the scale.

“Now you see what you do to me?” Harrison questioned harshly, raking his teeth up your neck and biting at your trembling lips. “You reduce me to an animal, Leona.” He growled out. “And if I’m to be an animal, I might as well fuck you like one.”

His free hand landed on your clit, and the pleasure that was ricocheting around your body turned up to the next level when his thumb pressed down and vibrated. You were writhing in his grasp while trying to stifle your screams. This type of pleasure was almost painful, and it was bringing tears to your eyes. But it wasn’t never-ending, no, you didn’t have that the of control because like a dam breaking, your orgasm burst its way through your body. Feeling your body drop back against the bathroom counter, you waited out the molten heat burning its way through your veins.

Luckily, Harrison kept his grasp on your body as he followed shortly behind you, his own orgasm ricocheting off yours and filling your overly sensitive body with more heat. Your leg slid from his waist and your fingers dropped from dark strands. Staring up at the ceiling of the bathroom, you found that it was taking your mind several minutes to fully catch up with what just happened, and by the time your breathing wasn’t as labored, you could think more clearly. What did you just do!? You didn’t even have time to comprehend that alarming question before Harrison was taking your hand in hand and forcing you to look in his eyes.

“Do you understand now?” He asked, his body weight still pinning yours to the countertop.

“You don’t control me, Harrison,” you whispered back, your voice husky from your strained breathing. “You can’t.”

He chuckled darkly, bringing a hand up to take your chin. He then pressed his thumb against your still tingling lower lip.

“I’ve been pulling your strings long before we met, Leona. It’s about time you realized that you’ve always been my little marionette.” You wanted to shake your head at him in refusal, bite back at him that he didn’t control you and he never had… but deep down within your heart, you knew that he was right. He had a string around your heart and could tug it around as he saw fit.

It took a few moments, but you finally came up with something to say, and as your lips parted to speak, the wind kicked up again and your body was moving. The bathroom disappeared as well as the uncomfortable position you had been pressed in, and your feet were trying to keep up with Harrison’s long strides as he pulled you through the plum room by your wrist.

Damn speedsters and their speed.

His mask was back on and not a hair looked out of place on his head, meanwhile you still felt like you had just been thoroughly fucked in a bathroom. Your back hurt, your chest and neck stung, and your inner thighs were wet from both your releases. Panting a little from exhaustion, you briefly glanced down at your stinging chest and blanched. A glaringly red mark was perfectly placed against your right breast, teeth marks and all, and in full view. Letting out a gasp, you slapped your free arm over your chest as blood rushed to your face; who knew what your neck looked like. Beneath Harrison’s mask, you saw his lips curve into a smirk. The man no doubt knew exactly what you were pitching a small fit over.

But you didn’t have time to address it because you were dragged into the coat check. Harrison was getting your coats while you looked back at the door you had come from. Rachelle, you couldn’t just leave her here.

“Your coat, Madam Persephone,” a worker dressed in white said, offering your long coat out to you. You snatched it from his hands with a squeaky ‘thank you’.

“Can you please tell my friend Rach- Carmen, she’s Clio tonight… I don’t want her worrying…” you stuttered out while putting your coat on as fast as possible, not fully forming correct or complete sentences. The man bowed his head.

“I will inform the Madam, please have a good night.” You were being dragged out of the coat check before he was even finished with his words. Looking up at Harrison, it was hard for you to understand what was going through his head at the moment. You tugged on your wrist, trying to get his attention.

“Harris—“ you felt yourself getting picked up and rushed off somewhere before you even finished calling his name. Clutching dark shoulders, you hid your face in Harrison’s neck as he ran at that breakneck speed, willing your stomach to stay exactly where it was. It was probably only a few seconds, but what felt like an eternity later he came to a stop.

Carefully detaching yourself from his neck, you found your eyes connecting with his still dark-soaked ones… then you recognized the interior of your apartment. You quickly twisted yourself out of his arms and backed up a few steps, putting much-needed distance between you and him.

“Okay, you’ve gotten your way,” you snapped at him, wrapping your arms around your still tingling body. “Can you please leave!?”

Harrison smirked at you before letting out a huff and pulling off his mask to rub his forehead.

“Leona, surely by now you understand that I do what I want, when I want, where I want,” he chuckled darkly, raising his molten eyes to yours. You felt a shiver run up your spine once more, remembering that this man was supposed to be in a wheelchair.

“I’m not going to go back to that hell club,” you snapped out, stomping over to your couch and sitting down. Bending down, you started working on getting the blasted heels off your feet, the soles of your feet already aching. “I didn’t even know it was a sex club until I was read the rules.”

An eyebrow arched and you scowled at him.

“What were you doing there in the first place, Leona?” you snorted and rolled your eyes, getting off the second heel and rubbing your hurting foot.

“Does it matter? You got what you wanted in the end, why bother questioning me about why I was there?” He didn’t appreciate your snippy words because as you were getting back to your feet and heading in the direction of your bedroom, he zipped his way to stand in front of you, his eyes buzzing the eerie red color again.

“It matters, Leona, because you are mine,” Harrison stated darkly. “And I. Don’t. Share. I will kill for you if it comes down to that, without a second thought, you better remember that.”

Biting down on your already well-bitten lip, you pursed your lips before shaking your head clear of the muddled thoughts of how good he looked in his suit and how great he felt in you when he was fucking you in the bathroom.

“I went for information, okay? Now I’d like to shower and forget that I ever went to that place, so can you please leave?” You didn’t wait for his answer and brushed past him. “You know where the door is.”

You slammed the door to your bedroom behind you and angrily pulled at your coat until you had it off your body. Throwing it onto your dresser, you stalked into your bathroom and started wiggling yourself out of the stupid ridiculous dress. For a dress that seemed to be a simple on and off, it improbably took you five minutes to get yourself fully free of the expensive somewhat sheer fabric. As much as you wanted to burn the dress and never think of it again, you had to restrain yourself and remind yourself that it was Rachelle’s. So you carefully returned it to a hanger and left it hanging on the door to the bathroom.

Picking at your hair, you focused your eyes on your pinned strands so you didn’t have to look at yourself in the mirror and see the evidence of what had happened at the club. Dragging the crown from your head, you set it to the side carefully and started plucking the pins from your hair. As your hair fell back to its normal place, the magic of the night faded, and you were left with a huge lump of regret and self-loathing.

Don’t even get yourself started on the way your legs felt at the moment, you barely felt steady as it was. You could still feel your thighs shaking and the slick that clung between them? Holy shit, you were in so much trouble. You pushed a hand through your hairspray-laden hair and forced yourself to look at your reflection in the mirror. You were flinch-worthy and flinch you did. The gold paint Rachelle had used to paint a mask had long since been smeared, no doubt by Harrison. Your lipstick was a mess, and your lips were more than puffed up from rabid kisses and sharp bites. Even your eyeliner and mascara were smudged and running slightly.

You didn’t even want to address the marks on your body at the moment, so you dropped your eyes and turned your attention to the shower. You cranked the water up to high and held your hand beneath the stream until you felt that the water was comfortable. Making sure that you had a clean towel sitting out, you stepped into the shower and dragged the curtain behind you.

The water pelted your skin, and closing your eyes, you let out a sigh and began rubbing at your face. You could feel the gold paint being scrubbed off beneath your fingers, and with every second that went by as you scrubbed, you scrubbed harder. You scrubbed like you could wash the entire experience away like it never happened until your skin felt raw. Dragging your fingers down your face, you opened your eyes once more and stared at the tiled wall in front of you. The faster you cleaned up, the faster you could forget all about tonight's experience… so that’s what you did.

You washed the makeup from your skin and scrubbed your scalp vigorously to get rid of all the hairspray. Then you took your time with your favorite body wash to wash away all evidence of the night and have yourself smelling like you normally did. You probably spent twice the amount of time needed in the shower to get clean, but you had scrubbed every inch of yourself raw and then some. Reaching up, you turned the water off and squeezed out the excess water from your hair. Dragging the curtain to the side, you let out a yelp and jerked the curtain to cover your body.

“I thought I told you to leave!?” you shouted at Harrison, who was lounging against your bathroom counter. He held out your towel for you with a raised eyebrow and an infuriating smirk on his lips. You snatched the towel from him and hurriedly wrapped it around your body, all the while glaring at him. “Why the hell are you still here?”

“We have unfinished business, Leona.” You scoffed. Unfinished business? About what exactly? Stepping out of the shower, you did your best to ignore him while pushing past him and marching yourself over to your dresser. Pulling open your underwear drawer, you grabbed a fresh pair off the top of your stack, then went hunting for a sleep shirt. “Ignoring me isn’t going to change anything.”

You slammed your palms down on your dresser and glared at your reflection.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do right now, Harrison?” you snapped at him, focusing your eyes on his haunting blue eyes. His eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward to where you stood. Harrison’s hands reached up and slipped around your towel-covered waist, one hand resting on your hip and the other coming to a rest right over the place where you had the towel knotted. You were pulled back against his body as he leaned down and brushed his lips against your damp neck. “Hey! You do not get to distract me by—“

It was too late for protest because your head was turned and Harrison’s mouth landed back on yours. You proceeded to short circuit and forget what you had been saying. Rather than an aggressive kiss filled with urgent sharp nips and bites, this time Harrison kissed you with a gentleness that very easily persuaded you over to his side… once again. Your hands reached up and took the lapels of his blazer, tugging him closer until you were satisfied with the nonexistent space between you.

Hot lips ravaged yours, pushing and pulling until you were parting your lips with a moan. Harrison ate that moan up in a second and smothered the back end of your aired-out sound. Your heart started to beat faster in your chest as the tongue currently teasing yours got you so caught up and tongue-tied that you were forgetting to breathe. Gasping against lips that were content to explore the corners of your mouth and migrate to your jaw, your head dropped back while you breathed heavily, which gave Harrison plenty of skin to tease and lick… and lick he did.

Trembling and shaking in his arms, you gasped and whimpered as he once again marked your skin with his mouth, tugging and pulling at your flesh. Your nails came out when teeth bit down, and raking them down Harrison’s chest, you twitched in place. All your squirming around had loosened up your towel, and with a growl, he gripped the knot at your shoulder and yanked the material from your body, tossing it to the side with little afterthought. Your skin prickled from the cold air in the room, but the temperature didn’t sink into your bones. Rather, Harrison twirled you around and had you lying flat on your back on your bed.

Staring wide-eyed up into lust-filled eyes, for a few moments all you could hear was the rapid fluttering of your heart. Then Harrison was diving back down, capturing your lips once more. You reached up and slipped your fingers into his hair, tugging at the strands and lifting yourself further into his kiss. You had had a taste of him at the club, and now you were hooked. Harrison ran a hand down your side and caressed your hip, stroking your skin with deep-pressure touches.

Somewhere in the mix of open-mouthed kisses, a touch that you knew would leave bruises, and your squirming body, Harrison’s clothes disappeared, and he was sliding his cock back into your waiting body. Groaning into his mouth, you wrapped your arms around his body and hugged him close as he started thrusting into your body, this time far faster than before. Your lips broke apart, and this time you were the one attacking his neck with your lips.

You brushed your lips over the smooth plane of his lightly tanned skin, scraped your teeth over his pulse, and then decided to sink your teeth into the junction of his neck in retaliation for his bites. Harrison let out a curse, and your head was sharply yanked back. Your eyes met, and you couldn’t help the rasping giggle that spilled from your puffy lips.

“That’s how you want to play?” Harrison questioned darkly. His eyes intense and filled with both seriousness and lust. The grip on your hip turned punishing before slipping inwards and beginning to vibrate.

“Now you know I bite back,” you threw back recklessly. His smirk quirked at the corner before he leaned back down and covered your lips once more. Your fingernails started digging into his shoulders, carving fresh lines of red on unblemished skin. Harrison hissed at you but only continued, his eyes taking on that red glow. Head dropping back as you gasped from him fucking you at an impossibly fast pace, not to mention the fact that he was vibrating, you saw stars overhead.

Breathing heavily, your eyelids fluttered while your body burned with fire. The muscles in your neck strained, and you felt another orgasm quickly coming to the surface. You dug your nails in hard right before it hit you, and your world exploded. You were a writhing, twitching mess beneath him before going slack. Laying in a dazed position, you felt Harrison pull your body back up to his, and his lips crushed against yours. In the chaos, you felt a rush of warmth within you. You choked against his lips, your fingertips now feebly hanging onto his shoulders the best you could. Panting heavily for oxygen, you let your body fully drop back against your bed and groaned.

“Seriously, I just washed you off of me!” you softly moaned as bright eyes met yours and Harrison smirked at you.

“Washed me off?” Harrison chuckled darkly. “Kitten, by the time I am through with you, I’ll have marked you up so permanently you will always carry me with you.”

You woke up alone and feeling sore, really sore. Your thigh muscles hurt, and the places Harrison’s mouth had found and proceeded to suck and/or bite certainly ached with discomfort. That man probably didn’t even have a scratch mark on him since he was a speedster and healed so fast. It was maddening to think about, so you pushed all the memories of the previous night to the back of your mind and started getting ready for the day. You had to take another shower; the evidence of your activities had almost dried against your inner thighs, and you couldn’t think straight as long as you knew it was there. Then again, his words from last night made it clear that you’d never be rid of him.

So you scrubbed your skin for the second time in twelve hours before changing into jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt since you didn’t own any turtlenecks. It was going to be a scarf type of day… good thing that the weather called for it. So while you were wrapping a scarf around your neck, you walked into your kitchen and checked your phone for any messages. Just a bunch of drunk texts from Rachelle about wanting to know all about the man you had supposedly left with last night, including the details of sex.

“Rachelle,” you sighed, your cheeks heating up while you put your phone to sleep. She’d pry every detail from your mind at some point, but you didn’t need to deal with that at the moment. You needed to get to the lab and deliver the news about the meta problem and the details you had managed to get from Apollo. Grabbing your phone, wallet, and keys, you donned your jacket and started walking for Jitters, in need of a large coffee. In your fast walk to Jitters, you were so wrapped up in your own mind and tumultuous thoughts that the walk went by in what felt like seconds, and you found yourself standing in line for coffee.

You really needed to get a hold of yourself or everyone was going to know something was up with you. You slapped your cheeks vigorously, earning yourself a few looks from the surrounding crowd, but you ignored them. Five minutes later, you had a coffee in hand and were striding your way towards Star Labs. Slipping into the building, you headed up to the third level and entered the cortex.

“Hey there Lioness,” Cisco called from where he sat at one of the computers, playing around with a stress ball. “Haven’t seen you for a few days…”

“I was doing some detective work,” you answered, walking over to the coat rack and hanging up your winter coat. You then turned on your heel and planted your hands on your hips as Caitlin walked into the room. “But I’ve got some new information from my sleuthing that will help with our investigation.”

Cisco’s eyebrows went up, and he rubbed his hands together excitedly as Caitlin and you both walked over to the curved desk in the cortex.

“Oh? Well, my dear Watson, what did you find?” Cisco asked, hope blooming in his eyes.

“So I was able to talk to some of the rich socialites through my friend and found out that the Almas Twins are somehow finding ways to make perfect counterfeits.”

“Who are the Almas twins?” Cisco asked, making a face with his nose scrunched up.

“Daughter and Son of a business tycoon,” you explained as Caitlin took a seat and did a quick I.d. search of them. She pulled up their information and put their pictures on a nearby screen. “And now they apparently have counterfeiting skills that rival the best… a bit strange considering they were deemed society's most useless heirs last year…”

“Ouch…” Cisco murmured as he clicked away on his own computer, no doubt going through the police reports you had compiled for this case. “I’ll start tracking their activities and movements. See if that can turn up any new information… but great work.”

“Yeah, that’s a pretty big improvement considering where we were yesterday,” Caitlin echoed, turning her attention to the computer in front of her. You walked around the desk and leaned over Cisco’s shoulder to look at the computer screen as he typed. It was nice to see that your experience wasn’t all for nothing, and that good could come from it. With the three of you working on tracking down new information based on what you had learned, you were able to make some new headway on the case and come up with some new leads to chase. You were in the middle of helping Cisco sort through a list of people who associated with the Almas twins when a voice rang out, and you froze where you stood.

“You three seem rather concentrated this morning…” Harrison’s voice spoke. You raised your head, and you stiffened like a deer caught in headlights.

“Dr. Wells! Leona learned some things that help with our current meta problem!” Caitlin spoke up cheerfully as you found yourself caught up in blue eyes that you had spent the previous night beneath. Jesus! You had never had that many rounds back to back… the man was insatiable. Heat blossomed beneath the skin of your cheeks. Harrison’s eyebrow went up in question, and you could almost see the smirk in his eyes telling you that he knew exactly why you were turning so red.

“Barry’s in the speed lab, right? I need to have a word with him.” You blurted out before practically running for the exit, leaving behind your very confused friends and a smug scientist. Obviously, you didn’t go running for the speed lab; you were in too much of a mess to face Barry, so you found a hallway that no one really went near and rested your back against it. Putting your hands on your knees, you bent your head and took several slow deep breaths. One moment you were working on calming yourself down, and the next you were standing in a room you had never been in before.

You blinked rapidly in confusion before spotting Harrison standing a few paces away from you, glasses gone with a raised eyebrow. Your eye twitched.

“Do you have any idea how sore I am!?” You hissed at him. He smirked at you and stepped forwards. “I feel like I ran a marathon!”

“You’re going to have to get used to that, Kitten,” Harrison purred, his eyes drifting to the scarf tied securely around your neck. In seconds, he was snatching it from your neck, and your hands were flying up to cover the rather large mark/bite on your neck. You shot him a dirty look while he chuckled. “I don’t know why you feel the need to be so bashful when what you are hiding I put there myself.”

That didn’t make you feel any better, and Harrison raised a hand to gently peel yours away from the spot. The moment the mark was revealed, his smirk turned into a pleased one. You scowled further.

“Stop looking so damn smug!” You were only worsening your predicament. Harrison brushed his fingers against your neck, his eyes looking down at you with a thoughtful expression.

“What were you doing at that club, Leona?” He asked softly. It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. Now he asks for details? You rolled your eyes.

“Getting information, I thought that since it seemed to be an inside job from the socialites, I would infiltrate one of their parties,” you explained, waving a hand. “Jokes on me though, I had no idea what kind of party it was… but at least Apollo ended up being useful somehow.”

“I’d rather forget that he exists at all, Kitten,” Harrison huffed at you, his eyes sparking with jealousy. You smirked up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Oh come on, you’re still jealous? It’s not like Apollo is the one who spent the night fucking me.” That made him rock back on his heels and chuckle.

“Wow, Kitten’s got a dirty mouth, where have you been hiding this version of you all this time?” You crossed your arms at him and gave him a petulant stare.

“Is that all you enjoy about me?” You questioned with a twitch on your lips. Harrison cocked his head as his lips once again slowly spread into a smirk.

“Oh far from it,” Harrison told you, brushing his long fingers beneath your chin and tilting your chin up. You looked at him with uncertainty in your eyes, and as you were looking at him, he leaned down. Harrison pressed a rather light kiss to your lips, much different from the ones you had been savagely smacking on each other last night. Your eyes closed, and you felt your body loosen up.

“You don’t fight fair, Harrison, do you know that?” You murmured against his lips, heaving out a tired sigh.

“I’m far from a saint, Leona, and my name is Eobard.”

Date Published: 7/25/22

Last Edit: 7/25/22

Previous | Masterlist

[the-gothmother-writes]

| 🤍 Starstruck | Character Intro: Felicity DuNoir |

.

.

.

/ I bet on Losing dogs / I know they're losing and I pay for my place / By the ring / where I'll be looking in their eyes as they fall / I'll be there on their side / I'm losing on their side /

Thirty-two consecutive fouettés. 

The black floor of the dance hall was littered with lounging bodies. All whispering amongst themselves, giggling over inside jokes, earbuds plugged into their ears. 

The instructor had announced that today of all days would be individual, one on one instruction. Most dancers had already taken their turns and were now basking in the rare gift of down time.

Thirty-two consecutive fouettés. 

The giant mirror flickered with fluid shadow. A leg whipped around, propelling the shadow in a controlled spin. A single, dark braid snapped through the air like a black flag caught in a gust.  

Thirty-two consecutive fouettés. 

That was how many spins Felicity needed to achieve to perfect Odile’s variation. As any ballerina could attest, even the professionals, the dance of the Black Swan was no easy feat. Especially not for a seventeen year old who wasn’t even out of secondary school. 

So… that was all the more reason to do it, and do it right. 

Her head snapped back into place with each turn, staring her own reflection down and she forced herself to ignore the buzzing nausea licking at the edges of her brain. Her nerves told her body “just one more time,” every time and her body was starting to doubt their lies. Her shins burned, toes ached, and every muscle in her legs and glutes protested her steely resolve in true Francais fashion. But she refused to give into their demands. 

Thirteen… 

Fourteen… 

Fifteen… 

The lights grew colder, sparks of red and yellow flaring up like fire as her breaths strained to stay even. With each new spin, her chiffon skirt thrashed with brand new feathers that she could almost hear flutter as the wind whipped in her ear. The whine of a distant melody laced the gusts, an echo of her very soul. 

A shadow eclipsed the mirror. 

Her breath began to shake, muscles trembling. Her skin pricked when a chill passed through her. Just past her reflection… she could’ve sworn she’d seen his harsh eyes staring back. His heavy brow furrowed as he counted each fouetté she completed. His bulbous nose wrinkled with disapproval. The music lacing the wind in her ears coiled into a critical hiss. 

Suddenly it wasn’t her own voice counting. 

Twenty-three…

Twenty-four…

The chill seized her heart, stomach twisting with dread—

“Regarde la… She’s trying to win Jaskier back.” 

The maliciously sharp giggle cut through her concentration, her foot dropping back onto the black floor. She seethed as if it’d burnt, instantly raising her pointe again to try and save it… but as she looked back at her reflection she knew it was too late. 

She darted a bruised look from the corner of her eye at the source of the covert snicker. Claire… Her skin flushed, heart clutching at the sight of the petite girl. Claire’s caramel hair she insisted still counted as blonde glinted in the harsh lights of the dance hall, her lips wide to bear her teeth as she giggled politely with her cluster of friends. 

They weren’t looking at Felicity… or were they? Were those fleeting looks beneath thick lashes for her? Those private murmurs… sharp grins? 

Claire sent Felicity another, bright-eyed look and smiled sweetly at her. Felicity’s heart stole another quiet beat and her stomach pooled with nauseous uncertainty. That sugar coated smile… it leered at her. Challenging her to defy it. Oh she wanted to… She almost narrowed her gaze but before her eyes could twitch, her instincts panicked and she smiled back instead. Some cowardly, submissive smile that made her cheeks flush with shame.  

The exchange seemed to satisfy Claire, maybe even amuse her, and she darted another grin at her friend lounging on the gym floor with her. 

Their attention strayed away from Felicity, leaving her drained… or maybe that was just her body begging to collapse after such an extraneous workout. 

She’d made it to twenty-five. 

Unacceptable. 

.

.

.