#OC Christoph Moonlight

[ashleyrainsims]

Relaxing in Tartosa's sunset light.

[jon-snows-man-bun]

By Turns Aside

These delights thy mind may move

Masterlist

Summary: Azriel takes care of business, alone in his room.

Takes place during chapter fourteen.

Rating: E for Explicit

Warnings: Explicit smut. Male masturbation, choking, forced-but-consensual oral sex (he's into it), very brief mention of his childhood abuse, implied voyeurism (ie using his shadows to be a peeping tom), misogynistic language, masochism, Azriel is a loser and a perv. Benign sexism and white knighting, then non-benign sexism and degradation. The verb tenses don't make sense because I got confused - please just accept this, the idea of fixing it gives me a headache.

A/N: Features Azriel x Mor (mentioned briefly), Elain, Aisling (OC), and Eris. This isn’t about the female characters - they’re a vehicle for him to get dommed by Eris.

By request, the scene I cut because it's 2.4k of Azriel jerking off to fantasies that make him feel dirty and ashamed (he loves it, the little rat boy). I'm actually sad I had to cut it, it's got all the Sauce: his character motifs, the major symbols of the story, and a bit of plot development. You don't need to read By Turns to understand this, but it does feature an OC briefly. Not tagging this with That Ship because it isn't, really - it's implied his understanding of her is pretty wrong.

Title is from "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love" by Christopher Marlow.

Azriel had drunk slightly too much wine, he decided as he opened the door to his chambers. It was that frustrating conversation with Aisling – he’d drunk the first glass to draw her out, the second at her behest, then the third and fourth because the things she said left him with such a sour taste and a worse feeling.

His room in the moonstone palace wasn’t that large, but it was silent, with not too many windows. He found some of the rooms unsettling here, the way they were almost totally open. The palace was warded, of course, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of exposure enough to sleep soundly. As he closed the dark curtains against most of the moonlight, leaving the barest sliver peeking through, he was pleased to feel tipsy enough that he was sure he’d fall straight to sleep – a rarity, sometimes.

No. Not straight to sleep. Azriel laid back on his bed, tossing his shirt and trousers to the floor carelessly.

It had been too long since he’d made time for this, too long since he’d had a free night to himself to seek a female out. His eye had been drawn by Aisling’s body earlier, a lapse he could never, ever let either her or Rhys know about – he needed to be focused, to be sharp. He’d just take his cock into his own hands and do it himself if it gave him the clarity he needed to support Rhys.

He just needed something to think of.

Azriel’s hands fisted his flaccid cock slowly, casting his mind about. He could hear his shadows whispering to him – let us show you someone, someone tasty, someone warm and wet and willing – but he didn’t attune himself.

He thought of hands, delicate, soft, manicured hands. Whose? The scent of jasmine and honey, wrapping around him like silk; he knew the scent so well now, he could imagine it perfectly. Soft hands, gripping his hardening cock like he was now.

Elain would hold him firmly, starting at the base and dragging slowly up, soft little hand squeezing so tightly that it was edged in pain just the way he liked.

No – Elain wouldn’t know how to give pleasure and pain at the same time, even a hint of it. She wouldn’t like that. She’d need sweetness and softness, to be handled gently.

Azriel could do that; he’d be soft for her, careful for her. He knew how to work bodies to madness and bliss, he could handle her like the spun glass she was. He’d take his time with pulling her dress off; she’d be shy, so shy… He’d run his hands along her like she was a frightened horse, gentling her. He’d strip her as she trembled and blushed, revealing her gorgeous, full tits, her pouty lips begging to be kissed. He’d stand behind her, his hands on her waist –

He couldn’t take Elain from behind like that, like a dog. She’d want to look in his face, and Azriel would want to see her beautiful, liquid eyes as he slid his cock home for the first time. Her facing away from him, facing the wall, felt too much like rejection, too much like the returned necklace sitting on a pile of gifts. He wanted to be face to face.

Better some nameless, faceless female; someone from his past that he’d taken rough and eager outside Rita’s or behind one of the taverns in Illyria. Someone who’d put themselves on their hands and knees for him, arching their back, presenting their wet little pussy like the prize that it was.

She wriggled impatiently as Azriel fisted his cock harder, admiring her dripping cunt. She was eager, wet for him; he gave her a slap on the ass as she made another impatient noise.

“You’ll get what I give you,” Azriel said lowly, amused; he was hard as stone, but his instinct to torture never really left him entirely. He brought it with him everywhere, and he wanted to torture this female, make her want his cock so desperately that she’d tell him anything he wanted to hear.

“Get on with it, then,” she demanded, tossing long black hair over her shoulder and narrowing dark blue eyes at him.

What? No, he scolded himself. Aisling? Get a grip. It was because of her dress today, maybe, the way she was lying there on the chaise. The neckline of the dress was low, and it was all made of black lace like a corset, just cupping her tits. It was so low cut he could have just dragged it down an inch, a fraction, with one finger and been rewarded with her nipples. They would have been hard as diamonds in the cold air, and he’d lean forward to lick one, sucking it into his mouth, and she’d toss her head back and raise her tits towards him, begging for more.

His hand started working again.

“Please fuck me like a whore,” she’d say, pulling the slit of her dress to the side for him. He already knew she didn’t wear panties, so her bare cunt would be there, ready for him. He liked her better like this, no demands, no glares. “Eris was so prude, so cold. He left me so wanting. I need you to show me what I could have had, how a slut from the Hewn City deserves to be fucked. I want to think about you every time I have to swallow his cock, his thick hard cock, it’s so big I choke on it-”

Cauldron. Azriel grunted, running a hand over his face in frustration, shaking loose that thought. Elain, he decided.

Elain would wear panties. Something cute and pastel, with little bows on, like a present just for him. They wouldn’t be the skimpy, sultry red scraps that Mor would favour, but something big, something girlish. They’d cover her pussy and the round curve of her ass so well, so he’d give them a tug, pulling them up into her cleft.

Her wet little slit would hug them, and she would be so sensitive that she’d moan, already needy and desperate for him. Her human man wouldn’t have done anything for her, she needed him to guide her through it, how it should be. Her first real fuck, from a male, not a man. He’d treat her so well she’d be dazzled, any paltry, poor memories of Lord Fucking Whatever the Second would be cleansed from her mind.

Elain laid back on his bed, wide doe eyes looking at him pleadingly, the sweetest blush over her beautiful face. She worried her lip between her teeth, too shy to ask for what she wanted, but too needy to not ask at all. She needed him, needed him to touch her and soothe this fire only he had awoken in her.

Azriel is merciful. He’ll give it to her. He peeled off her panties slowly, eyes practically rolling back in his head at the luscious scent of her pussy as it’s revealed. Glossy, full, ripe – ready for him. Both of them are drooling. He wanted to taste her so badly, he’s been fantasising about it for months, even through the agonising gut-wound of rejection. That doesn’t matter now, he can give her what she needs even if she doesn’t realise it.

Azriel squeezed his cock at the thought. Spitting into his palm, he worked his cock hard, fully caught in the fantasy now. The room is spinning still so he closed his eyes, tipping his head back.

A hand, broad and hot, grabbing the back of his neck and squeezing.

Azriel’s cock pulsed in his grip, weeping clear precum. He used his thumb to smear it over the head, grunting at the feel, the slick sensation.

“You think you get to look her in the eyes?” A voice snarled in his ear, and the voice was aristocratic and smooth with the accent of Autumn –

What the fuck? Azriel’s hand stilled, his rhythm broken as his mind scrambled to wrap itself around what he’d just done.

No. It wasn’t like that, he decided. Eris, the vicious, sneering snake, was there to hurt him, to give him the sting of physical ache Aisling and Elain and Mor couldn’t. He was the counterweight, the ugliness to balance out the divine beauty of getting lost in cunt. Pleasure felt better when it had an edge, a dark side; he knew this. It went like this:

“You think you get to look her in the eyes?” Eris snarled in his ear, both hands wrapping around his neck and squeezing so all his breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering hard and his head filling only with desperation to breathe – no thoughts, no memories. The female – was her hair black as a raven’s wing, or golden as sunlight on a doe’s coat? Azriel gave up deciding and focused on her pussy instead.

She arched her back on the bed, pinching and rolling her own nipples, skin flushing a lovely pink. Her pussy was glistening in the dim light, thighs parted and lips spread, so wet she was dripping on his mattress, enticing drops running down the full cheeks of her ass like tears. His mouth watered as Eris’ hot, elegant hands squeezed harder for a moment, and just as his brain emptied totally and his vision narrowed down at the edges to only the wet cunt in front of him, Eris released and the female’s legs snapped shut. Azriel groaned in relief and disappointment, agony and pleasure; he’d be strangled if he could look at that cunt again, walk that fine line one more time.

Azriel gasped, chest heaving as his hand squeezed, stroking faster. Precum and spit made his cock slick and sticky now, beading up at the top, dripping down the shaft like sap from a tree.

“Get on your knees and beg her for a taste,” Eris sneered, delivering a hard kick to the back of his legs that made him collapse, catching himself on his hands and knees on the end of the bed. He could practically taste the wet pussy in front of him so close the female could put her feet on his face if she wanted, kick him away like a stray cat twining about her ankles. “You think you deserve it?”

No. That was something his half-brother had said to him once, about a full plate of food before he pissed on it and laughed at him.

“Beg her,” Eris demanded. “She’s wet for you. Beg her nicely.” That was right, being told how wet cunt got for him. Females liked to be begged, liked to be flattered. Azriel liked it too.

“Please,” Azriel said, voice raw and rasping in his throat from being throttled by Eris. The blow to the back of his head made him lurch forward, a supplicant. All he could feel was pain and all he could smell was cunt.

“I said beg, not make a polite request,” Eris sneered. Azriel swallowed, throat burning and raw, furious at the thought of obeying Eris, but he had to do it. The female needed him, he needed her – he’d suffer to taste her.

“I need to taste your pussy. I need it. Let me show you what I can do, I can make you cum so hard you see stars, or you can ride my face, whatever you need,” Azriel swallowed a groan, head pressed against the female’s feet. He gave her toes a little kiss, chaste, so she knew he could be gentle; then he gave the arch of her foot a lascivious lick and laved her dainty toes with his tongue so she knew he could get sloppy, too. Whatever she wanted. He was her dog, her toy.

Her thighs fell open again and Eris grabbed him by his hair, twisting, pain prickling over his scalp. Eris pressed his face into the wet cunt, and Azriel groaned deep in his chest as he was ground into it, the female panting and keening like a bitch in heat as he got to work.

He worked her clit first, circling hard then licking broad strokes, figuring out what she liked as Eris held his head still. He ground his hips into the edge of the mattress, humping it, trying to relieve the ache. His cock was heavy with blood and throbbing, desperate.

Once he had her cunt leaking all over his chin, he slipped his tongue down, working it into the velvet of her inner walls. The female started writhing her hips against his face then, and Azriel fucked her with his tongue, darting back up to suck at her clit. He gave it the barest of bites and her back arched. She liked pain, too.

“She’s close,” Eris whispered into his ear, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. The same way he’d once whispered into Eris’ ear, the same way Eris had prickled. “Give her your fingers. Make her cum. Do it now.”

Azriel obeyed. The female was so wet he went straight for three, crooking them up and feeling her cunt bear down on them as she rubbed herself against his face. Forced into place, all he could do was drive his fingers in and out and suck on her clit as she tightened, shuddering, pussy fluttering –

His hand moved faster, balls tightening, so close to finishing the job –

Her back arched and she squirted, Azriel’s eyes rolling back in pleasure as her orgasm pulsed around his fingers. Eris’ hands slammed back around his throat and he couldn’t breathe, only take the evidence of her pleasure, and her hands came down to grab his hair and pull his mouth even harder against her cunt to ride it out as long as possible, and he couldn’t breathe –

Azriel grunted as he came, spilling all over himself, breathing hard. It was only when he worked the final spurt out of his cock that he finally stopped, wondering what the fuck he’d just thought of.

It was the wine, or some trick Aisling had played on him – she was in a pissy mood, she would have thought of something debauched like that just to torment him. His cum was sticky, pearly-white in the moonlight; groaning, he wiped his hand off on his sheets. His shadows were lazily swirling about the room now where they weren’t already settled, and he focused on them to soothe himself, to settle the unpleasant lurching in his stomach. What the fuck was that? He wasn’t drinking wine on an empty stomach again.

[marypsue]

Anyway. I'm feeling Original Fiction Writing in this Chili's tonight. If there was ever anything you wanted to know about any of my OCs or original projects, now would be the time to ask. (And if there are no questions, there may be a sample chosen from one of these WIPs at random and posted. This is absolutely a threat.)

For reference, the original fiction WIPs I've posted about here and that I'm working on currently:

Fearleading Squad: Evil cheerleader Tiffany turns up at gothic rocker Avery's school and promptly turns it upside down. Avery has to infiltrate the cheer squad to find out what's happening to all her friends - and, as the body count starts to rise, to avoid taking the blame.

Inspirations for this one are Fear Street and Christopher Pike teenybopper horror from the 80s and 90s, Heathers, My Best Friend's Exorcism, and, yeah, what I've seen of Stranger Things season four.

Le Morte d'Artificial Intelligence: Autonomous, sapient artificial lifeform ('AI' is rather misused these days) Elin has been successfully masquerading as a human tech magnate (and rather less successful in hiding the fact that she moonlights as a superhero called the Motherboard, a secret she's keeping badly on purpose). The whole house of cards starts to wobble, though, when she runs into Lily, a changeling who wholeheartedly believes she is human. Also, King Arthur is there.

Inspirations for this one are mostly circa-2012-2013 MCU fanfiction, and the title of this one comix recap copperbadge did. With a dash of Jillian Holtzmann and Ke$ha.

Circus Luna: A group of five friends reunite in their small, rural hometown as adults, to face the circus-themed evil that they once defeated as children. Well, as fourteen-year-olds. Also they're all girls and they were fourteen in 2006 and two of them have children (who also get to have an important storyline, because nostalgia for lost youth can be dangerous to those who are young right now. Bite me, Stephen King).

Inspirations for this one obviously include Stephen King's IT, but also Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes, Jennifer's Body, Dracula, and MCR's The Black Parade.

[roselinbooks-archive]

👀👑 🍕 Is there a limit to how many I can ask at once? >.>

There is not!!

👀 - snippet!

An iconic scene from the beginning of Shifting Roots~

Hawkshell rose to her full height slowly. Though she was nearly as old as Elmtail, she rarely looked it. That night, the moonlight seemed to highlight every dulling gray hair around her muzzle. “Cats of the Alliance, I do not bring any good news tonight.” Several cats’ eyes widened, and a few shot quick glances over at Wildfur and Pool. The shaggy tom did not seem bothered by the Captain’s words, nor did Pool complain. Instead the gray and white tom’s gaze was fixed on Hawkshell, taking in her every word as though they were coming straight from the Spirits. “There is danger in our midst!” Hawkshell declared, her long claws sinking into the maple branch. “Two rangers were killed today: Breezeheart and…and Sunfire.” She broke off, giving herself time to breathe and the cats beneath her a chance to express their surprise and grief before she continued. “We do not know what killed them–” “It was a badger! We ran one from our territory just this morning,” Rainfall huffed. “Hold your tongue, you prideful toad!” Hawkshell roared, the fur along her back rising. “Could a mere badger maul a ranger until his own mother can barely recognize him?” Shocked gasps and worried whispers filled the crowd. Wolfthorn snorted under his breath, “If the badger’s name is Iceclaw…” “Shh!” Swiftmask hissed. “This is serious, Wolfthorn. Two rangers are dead!”

👑 - A random fact about one of my OCs

I suppose a fun fact is that none of the characters that appear in Shifting Roots are "my" OCs, since it is commissioned work that was heavily outlined by the time it came to me--but since the sequels are less fleshed out by the original creators, I DO get to add characters to them! You'll start seeing some of my own characters in Shaded River and onward. Of course, I care for the Shifting Roots characters like they're my own and love writing them too!

🍕 - OC's favorite food

Some of my characters share my sweet tooth! Nicolas and Ann in particular enjoy all kinds of baked goods; since Nicolas is a frost faerie he doesn't HAVE to eat but he likes to bake. Christopher likes strawberry desserts in particular, like strawberry shortcake and strawberry cheesecake.

[starryeyes2000]

All About You: Part 2

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

First story in the Very Long Distance series.

Pairing: Christopher Pike x OC

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 900

Summary: After a difficult mission Chris needs a little TLC. Where it is all about and for him. To get out of his head and just feel.

ooooo

Once outside and away from the party, Chris breathes deeply and exhales, letting the crisp night air cleanse the remnants of the stale room.

“… or scenic route?”

And admonishes himself for tuning out, thinking it is rude. “I’m sorry, I … I missed what you said.”

“No matter.” She touches his arm. “It’s a ten-minute walk via the direct route. Twenty-five using the scenic path through the park …”

With the accompanying touch her response to his inattention feels genuine rather than perfunctory. Wanting to stretch their time together he interrupts and answers in a rushed tone, “The park. Yes, definitely the park.”

His reward is a brilliant smile. It least it felt like a reward to him. “Lead the way.”

They take the path through the trees and loop around a small pond. “There are no resident ducklings here in the spring, like in the public garden in Boston. I miss that. I miss feeding them and watching mom round up her brood.”

“You’re from Boston?”

She nods. They continue, arms intwined, as she lets Chris set the pace of their stroll and the conversation.

“Why?” He asks. Then explains in response to her puzzled look. “The, what did you call it? Shield date.”

“Oh, that. He’s a good friend from a large family who disapproves of his preference, his orientation. We were roommates in college. His parents showed up unexpectedly one day and I pretended to be his girlfriend.” She laughs. “You’d think they’d catch on after all these years.”

“You were very convincing.” Chris remarks dryly feeling possessive but trying not to sound that way.

She hugs his arm tighter, again surprised he noticed and still pleased he did.

Each time they near an exit he points to another path, another copse of trees, another plaque. An hour passes. Her phone beeps.

“Sorry, I have to check that. A lot is going on at work at the moment.”

As she reads the message he asks, “Important? Or was it an escape call?” He grins, flashing the dimples.

She notices when the smile isn’t forced, his features soften, and he almost relaxes. My god, I could get lost in that smile. “Hardly. My boss and his wife are on a mission to fix me up." She snorts. "Neither are capable of any subtlety.”

Chris admits to himself, reluctantly, he feels a twinge of jealously. A fix-up would be a real date. Then he chuckles, “I have a few people like that in my life as well.”

They end up sitting on a bench in the middle of a fragrant night garden filled with plants and flowers in shades of white, grey, and rose.

“There is something about the quiet of night that soothes.”

“Yes.” Chris agrees, thinking of deep space. He notices her shiver slightly. “Cold?”

“Not especially.”

Damn it, Christopher, pay attention. She’s in a sleeveless dress while you roam aimlessly in a park on a spring night. He stands, ready to suggest they leave but hesitates.

She catches his hand. “Let’s stay a little longer.” Needing little encouragement he sits down, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. She snuggles into the warmth of his body.

This he misses. How does someone who likes physical contact, longs for it at times, end up in a job where that is practically off-limits?

“Do you have brothers? Sisters?” He asks in a ploy to divert his thoughts.

“An older sister and a younger brother. He’s travels a lot. You?”

“Only child. And I’m away most of the time.” This consequence of his choices lays heavy at times. “I think that would be easier for my parents if there were other children.”

The moonlight, the attraction, the camaraderie, the lack of pressure or expectation pulls at Chris. He leans over and down. Drawn to her lips, his own parting. She, looking up and into his eyes, her hand moving to caress the back of his neck, fingers combing through the hair at the nape; nods, communicating permission.

It’s so close and … Chris pulls back, unsure. I’ll be gone in two days and I’m … not … a good companion tonight. The moment passes. She lays her head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest communicating she understands and reassuring it’s OK. He places his hand over hers relishing the contact.

Wanting to pull him back to a lighter mood she teases, “That’s not how a pretend date ends you know.” It works, a little. But they finish the walk to her apartment in silence.

At the doorstep, she holds out a hand intending to end the evening on a playful note and coax back his amazing smile. “This has been my best fake date.”

Chris takes the hand but rather than shake it brings it to his lips for a soft kiss. “Me too.”

Neither knew what to say next, what to do with suddenly awkward hands and limbs. She turns to open the door. He looks at the ground, reluctant to leave.

“Would you like to come up?”

No encouragement is needed. And his smile is back.

[little-specificity]

All the movies, TV shows, video games, books and people I’ve reblogged/posted things about

I made this post exclusively for organizational purposes (my own peace of mind) because I’m apparently insane.

If you want to see all the tags you’ve used on your own blog, I recommend this site.

I also tag characters, pairings and some comments, but the list would be ridiculously long if I added those tags too.

Movies

500 Days of Summer

Batman Begins

Army of the Dead

Atonement

Brokeback Mountain

Bronson

Dallas Buyers Club

Community

Constantine

Cruella

Don Jon

Ex Machina

Going In Style

Harry Potter (tagged as hp)

High School Musical (all movies)

I Care a Lot

I Love You Phillip Morris

Inception  

Inglourious Basterds

It Comes at Night

Kingsman (both movies)

Knives Out

Locke

Mad Max: Fury Road

MCU  (all movies and tv shows)

Mean Girls

Midnight in Paris

Moonlight

Nobody Knows I’m Here

Project Power

Ratatouille

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

Snatch

Swiss Army Man

The Dark Knight

The Dark Knight Rises 

The Gentlemen

The Great Gatsby

The Hunger Games (all movies)

The Magnificent Seven

The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (2015)

The Old Guard

The Shape of Water

The Witch

Twilight

Venom (both movies)

Warrior

X-Men (all movies, tagged as x men)

TV Shows

Avatar: The Last Airbender

BoJack Horseman

Breaking Bad

Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Criminal: UK

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency

Fleabag

GLOW 

Lost

Mad Men 

MCU (all tv shows)

Merlin

Parks and Recreation 

Peaky Blinders

Squid Game

Supernatural

The Good Place

The Legend of Korra

Real People

Adam Scott

Alex Turner

Amy Poehler

Anne Hathaway

Anya Taylor-Joy

Armie Hammer

Aubrey Plaza

Brian David Gilbert

Brie Larson

Christina Hendricks

Christopher Nolan

Cillian Murphy

Dua Lipa

Elizabeth Debicki

Elizabeth Olsen

Emily Blunt

Helen McCrory

Henry Cavill

Jade Thirlwall

Jameela Jamil

James Mcavoy

Joseph Gordon-Levitt

Leonardo DiCaprio

Lil Nas X

Louis Tomlinson

Marina Diamandis

Misha Collins

One Direction

Rachel Weisz

Rashida Jones

Robert Pattinson

Tom Hardy 

Books

Flowers in the Attic

Harry Potter (tagged as hp)

The Hunger Games

The Namesake

Video Games

Borderlands 3

Dying Light

The Walking Dead (tagged as the walking dead game)

Dying Light 2

Left 4 Dead

Left 4 Dead 2

Team Fortress 2

Podcasts

Welcome to Night Vale

Other Tags 

Ask

Ask memes

Cats

Dani talks

Fanfiction

In the tags

Made by me

Misc

Oc and yn stories

Picrew

Tagged

Uquiz

Writing

Writing and fandom events

[rezdogsyonder]

Not Like You Think

Pairing: The Powered!Reader is married to an OC the marvel characters come in later.

Summary: You and your family are in trouble. What lengths will you go to keep them safe? Go against the Avengers? A gang infamous among CIA?

Warnings: Robbery, breaking the law, lying, murder, cheating

A/N: the reader is like early 20’s, married young to high school sweetheart. With a 3 year old. The reader has super strength, is bulletproof, and is influential. Like kilgrave but can turn it off. Also: didn’t expect it to be so long.. sorry! Couldn’t get back to present day in this chapter

**********

**********

You don’t know how it got to this.

That’s a lie. You do, but you didn’t mean for it to get this messy.

They’re almost here. You need to leave. They’re not close to being done though. The car is waiting. It’s running. They’re probably gonna see you leaving if they’re here quick enough.

We could hide. Blend in. Yeah, that could work.

**********

2 weeks before.

“Honey? What time you gonna be home tonight?” You yelled from the kitchen. Your preparing your babies diaper bag for daycare.

“Right around 8:30 ish? Maybe 9. They pretty much don’t let you take more overtime after 9.” He peaked out the door while doing his tie. He walked over to the counter and began eating the food you prepared for him.

“I’ll keep some food in the fridge for you.” You walked by kidding him on the cheek.

You walk over to the bedroom and to the bed, “Come on baby, time to wake up.” She just rolls over and shoved her face in the covers. “Come on sleepy buns, it’s early enough that you can have cereal.”

That got her sitting up, she reaches out to you and you oblige, bringing her to the kitchen.

“How’s my nakey baby?” Christopher smiles poking her belly. She giggles a little bit but she’s still trying to fight it, still wanting to go to sleep.

You put her in her chair and pour some cereal in the tray. You grabbed her soft little brush and put her hair in two little pigtails.

“See you tonight. Love ya. Love you too my little bean.”

“Love you. See you.” You say halfheartedly, grabbing Leia’s clothes for today.

You hear the door slam. Getting her dressed quickly and grabbing her diaper bag and an extra outfit, you’re soon following.

**********

“Leia is at daycare, they close at 4:30, so I’ll need to leave at 4:15, drop her off with Joey, and head back to work.” You say to yourself in your car. You park in the one employee parking spot that is left and walk inside. 

It’s not much, but this restaurant has been the only place that would hire you. It’s kinda like a subway, but for burritos and tacos, and the place tips well. Especially in the Summer, which is approaching right now. Pretty soon you’ll have to find a different place for Leia to stay. The daycare you go to only works during the school year. 

You have your apron on and hat to cover your hairnet, but you see your day going down the drain when you see your least favorite person. The store owner. The one person you hate because, for some reason, he sees you as a threat. Maybe because the franchise owner almost gave this place to you. Yeah, gave. Guessing he found out from another manager in another store, he went to the franchise owner and laid down daddy’s money. 

Why was he even working here if he was rich? Honestly you think he just has a personal vendetta against you. He has hated you since junior year. 

“Ugh what are you doing here?” He said in disgust.

“How professional, Jamie.”

“I don’t need to be professional, I’m the boss Y/N.” He smirked smugly. “Just in case you’ve forgotten.”

A customer walks in, saving you from having to speak to him. You try to serve them fast, but slowly too because once they’re sitting at their table, Jamie is just gonna berate you for nothing. Like always.

“Who is the one that worked shifts last night? Hmm?”

“That was me and Matt.”

“What is this?”he holds his hand up.

“A bill?” It was 100. We catered a small party yesterday, probably about 20 people but that 20 brought guests.

“A counterfeit.”

“Well we used the pen thingy on every big bill that we get.”

“No you don’t. Cause then you would have realized it was counterfeit.” The door swings open and you expect a customer but Matt walks in.

“Matt tell him we always use pens on big bills”

“We use the pen on big bills. Every time, a habit we’ve gotten from you docking our pay a billion dollars.” Matt said immediately jumping on your side. A bit monotonous and you suspect it’s because of the bags under his eyes.

“If you used the pen then you would have known it was COUNTERFEIT.” He’s starting to lose his shit. Unprofessional as always. “I will dock you both 50 from your paychecks.”

“You’re so... ugh. You know that $50 is nearly a full shift.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Give me the bill.” Holding out your hand. He looks at you suspiciously before handing it over. You grab the pen from the register and write over it.

You hold the bill out in front of you mockingly. “Did you use an actual marker?” Showing the yellow marks.

His face goes beet red and Matt is about to laugh, trying to hold it back. Jamie just took out his own marker and marks the bill, the color turning a dark blue.

“See?”

“Well then this is on you. Maybe you should quit being cheep and get us more detector pens.”

You cross your arms, and Matt can’t can’t hold it back and he’s giggling quietly. You know Jamie is trying to find a way to pin it on you.

Jamie opened his mouth to say something, but he sighed and walked away. Matt fist bumps you.

“You know one of these days he’s gonna get what’s coming to him.”

“That would be the dream. But right now he is our boss so we gotta dream while we work, come on. We gotta prep the pico and quac.”

The two of you continued your days work in peace, getting a couple regulars. It was a bit busier today than usual, you don’t know what caused it though. You even had to ask Christopher to pick up Leia.

Pretty soon the last group of people left their table and were leaving the restaurant. These guys were really polite, cleaning up after themselves too.

“You get front, I’ll get kitchen and food?” Matt offered.

“Yep, I’ll get the ice ready for you.” You grab an empty bean bin and a plastic knife from your station and walk around to the fountain machine. You jam the knife in the ice dispenser and go to get the mop bucket from the back.

Once back there you hear arguing, they’re shouting and it sounds like they’re through the back door. The door to drop off garbage. You try to hear better by pressing your ear against the door. One of the voices is Jamie.

“Excuse m—”

“JESUS!” It was just Matt. He has a bag of garbage.

“Huho sorry Y/N. ‘Xcuse.” You put your hand on his chest stopping him.

“Here I can take it.” You hold your hand out, he shrugs and gives you the bag. It was warm from the unused meat from today. You scrunched your nose for a second before heading outside.

The arguing stopped as soon as you opened the door. You saw Jamie and a man you recognized as a regular. He’s kinda too attractive to forget. Long brown hair, but it suited him, especially in the man bun he has right now. He was actually apart of the group that just left.

“Hey.” You wave to the customer, “what are you still doing here Jamie?” You said in a less enthusiastic tone. You walk over to the garbage can. Quickly before the meat burned through the heavy duty bag. It wasn’t fun to clean up.

“Just dealing with business Y/N, just head back in.” He snapped. You heave the heavy bag over the edge and into the garbage.

“Whatever you say,” you put your hands up in mock surrender. “Have a good night.” You say to the man with him.

“You too, ma’am.” He took his hand out of his pocket to wave, his shiny glove glinting in the moonlight. ‘It’s nearly summer.’ You thought, but he was still in a long sleeved jacket and gloves apparently.

You went back inside to continue your work, but that weird altercation stayed in your mind. Consuming your thoughts. Matt has the beans cooled back down, good thing because you had forgotten about the ice, he caught it before it started overflowing.

You’re done with the food heaters, the steamer, the tips, and the till. You’re pulling out the garbage from by the front door when you hear a loud bang outside. You go in the kitchen to see Matt.

“What was that?” You keep walking towards the back.

“Y/N I don’t think you should go out there, they’ll probably hit you in the face with a fircracker... Shitkids.”

“Well, yeah but the garbage.” You open the door, or try at least. Something was blocking it.

“Matt? Can you open this?” You push on the door to emphasize your need, even though he can’t see from where he is. Whoever it was probably stacked stuff on the other side. Garbage most likely.

“Yeah, coming.” He walked around you and tried pushing on the door. Even he struggles with the door, which kind of surprised you with him being kinda buff.

The door is open just enough for you to get out and the two of you hear a groan. You and Matt exchange a glance before you squeeze through the door, him trying to pull you back in.

It’s too dark to see anything, the moon had moved higher and maybe behind some clouds, you can’t make out many shapes. You’re holding the heavy bag with two hands so you swing it into the garbage can and grabbed your phone.

“Turn on your flash, cause holy fuck I can’t see anything.” Matt asks, he’s just getting through. The door closing behind him, making it even darker than before.

“K just a second.” You get it on but the phone is having trouble reading your fingers. Whatever liquid was on your hand preventing it. You wipe your phone on your boob and your hand on your hip, it finally reads.

Once you see, the sight has you and Matt standing in shock. It was a body, face down and covered in blood. A good ten seconds has passed before Matt reacts and jumps to the other side of the person.

“Y/N call 911!”

“Yeah.... right.” You dial the number while keeping the light on the two of them. Your slow with your actions, this situation feeling as if it weren’t real. Not paying attention to the monotone voice at the other end, “Get to TacoTacos on main please hurry, send an ambulance.” You keep them on the line, answering the woman’s questions absentmindedly.

“Does he have a pulse?”

Matt’s hands were already on his throat feeling for one. After a couple seconds he shakes his head.

“No, he doesn’t.”

Matt tucks the man’s arm and rolls him over. It was Jamie. He begins cpr.

“It’s my boss. His name is Jamie Ness. I.. I think he was shot.”

“Don’t worry ma’am help is on the way. They should be there in a couple minutes.”

Yep, this wasn’t real. You look away. At the far corner of the shop is a man standing there. He was the man that Jamie was arguing with. He brought one finger to his lips, smiled, and disappeared behind the corner.

**********

“Do you know anybody that would want to do harm to Mr.Ness?” The police officer asks.

“Who wouldn’t?” You look at the paramedic then at the officer, “Sorry, I know it isn’t good to say, but I haven’t seen one person that got along with Jamie.” You pull the blanket tighter around you.

“Do you know what Jamie was doing back there?”

You look the the corner where you saw the man. The paramedic straps that tightening thing around your arm. “No, he might’ve been coming back, but after yelling at us I wouldn’t think he would.... he’s not the kind of person to apologize or say he was wrong. Yenno?” You feel a stethescope being pressed to your chest.

“Mmhmm” he hums, writing in his notepad before slapping it shut, “I should let you go for now, here’s my card. If you remember anything, call me.”

His card said Carl Cohen, and had his number. You nod and tuck it into your apron.

“You’re good to go. I thought you had shock, and you’re blood pressure was a little low and your heart rate was a little high, but nothing too bad.”

The paramedic takes his cuff off of you and you hand him back the blanket. You walk over to Matt who was sitting on the curb. He was looking at the blood on his hands.

“Come ‘ere.” You pull at his elbow. He looks up, you see the tears looking in his eyes. He stands up reluctantly.

You lead him back into the shop. Through the front this time. Bringing him to the sink. You wash his hands for him. It seems he’s the way you were earlier. The blood stained his skin. You do what you can for now.

You lead him back out the front and tell him to get in the car. He usually hitched a ride with you anyways. You run back and switch off all the lights, also writing a note for the opening crew that said call you and you’d explain why the closing didn’t close all the way.

Running back to the car you’re heart breaks when you see him. He’s just looking out the window as tear roll down his cheeks. You shut your door and his attention switches to you, before switching back to the window.

“Do you want to come over to my place?” You offer, thinking he shouldn’t be alone right now.

He nods back to you.

The ride was quiet.

You get to your driveway and notice that an unfamiliar car is parked in front. You park beside Chris’s car.

You open the door for Matt and usher him to the closest bathroom. Grabbing hydrogen peroxide from the mirror, you spray his hands with it. The stains washing away with it. You could tell he feels a little bit better now that he can’t see it, but it’s still bad.

“Hold on.” You rush to your room, upstairs, as quietly as you can so you don’t wake up Leia. You burst into your room, only to find Christopher and a woman in bed.

You stop for a second and you’re shocked, honestly, but Matt is downstairs. You glare and point at your stammering husband “You’re fucking lucky that I can’t deal with this right now.” You grab the shirt you stole from Matt when you were roommates a couple years ago and a pair of your pajama pants from when you were pregnant and huge.

You run back down to Matt. He’s still in the same spot you left him. You place the clothes in his lap and step past him to turn on the shower.

“Clean up. Take as long as you need. I’ll just be outside. ‘Kay?” You kiss him on the forehead.

You leave and softly close the door. Upstairs, the first door on the left is Leia’s room. She’s still in her crib, sleeping face down. You grab another blanket and place it on top of her. She’s practically in a coma if she’s warm.

You close the door softly before going back to your room.

“Well good to see you clothed!” You gesture to the other woman. You know it’s not really her fault, but you’re angry. You pull her closer. “Did you know he was married? Tell the truth.” Using your powers on her.

“No, and I’m really so sorry. He just told me he was a single dad.” She rushed past you, seemingly embarrassed.

“Are you serious?” You’re trying to stay calm. Not wanting to get to angry. “In our house. In our bed. With our baby in the next room?” Each sentence accentuated with one step closer to him.

“You said you couldn’t get out of work, that you were gonna have a late close.”

“So this is justified?” You gesture to the bed.

“I—ugh, I—“ he steps back for every step you take closer.

“Spit it out.” venom lacing your words. He’s backed into the corner.

“We—ugh—we haven’t been together in a while. Um and just, I—”

“Get out.” Not wanting to hear more. You’re backing away now, knowing what happens when you get too angry. Not even he knows, but now you guess he never will.

“What?”

“Get out. It’s that simple. Leave”

“Where will I go? What about Leia?”

“I don’t care, and if you cared about Leia so much then you wouldn’t have done this.” You said matter of factly.

“But—“

“Nope!” You cut him off. “Get out, and don’t you dare think of waking her.”

Knowing him, he’ll stomp throughout the house just to make things hard for you. He seems to always do that when he loses the argument. You watch him step past you and out the bedroom door. You follow, making sure he actually leaves.

Once downstairs you can see he heard the shower going. He grabs his keys and turns to you.

He points to the door then back to you, “Youre such a fucking hypocrite.”

“No, I am not.” You whisper yelled. You began pushing him out the door.

Once he’s fully out you close the door behind him, trying not to slam it, and lock it. You turn around and lean against the door, you hear his car start up and leave. You feel tears welling up in your eyes, you shut them tightly.

This isn’t going to be easy.

[alj4890]

None But You

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) in a regency era romance as requested by @pixieferry Choices: Red Carpet Diaries fan fiction.

Masterlist

A/N: I'm afraid the story is only getting longer, this chapter especially. My apologies. I'm trying to stop. This ball scene of Lady Westford's got away from me. I can only blame myself. On the bright side two characters from Choices: Desire and Decorum make a cameo for a brief moment.

@graceful-popcorn @krsnlove @alleksa16 @hopelessromantic1352 @pixieferry @emceesynonymroll @buzz-bee-buzz @hopefulmoonobject @cora-nova @rainbowsinthestorm 

Summary:  It is the evening of Lady Amanda’s first ball of the London Season. She encounters old friends and wins over those closest  to Lord Thomas. The viscount continues to deny his growing feelings for the lady while his friends both tease and plan.

Chapter 3

"I understand that Lord Hunt escorted you to the opera the other evening." Lady Clara Mills and Ms. Annabelle Parsons smiled at Amanda's blush. "He is considered a matrimonial prize among the eligible ladies."

"Oh?" Amanda handed her empty glass to a passing servant and leaned closer to her friends. "What else have you heard?"

Ms. Parsons lowered her voice. "I have heard that he is not frequenting the local hells like he used to." Her dark eyes rested on Amanda and she smiled. "Perhaps they do not hold the allure that they once did."

Amanda flicked her fan open and attempted to cool her heated cheeks. "Or perhaps he does not wish to waste his fortune gambling."

Lady Clara laughed and looped her arm through Amanda's. "Come now. After all our adventures in Bath, do you not think we deserve to hear what has happened with that particular gentleman.

Ms. Parsons' eyes twinkled with mischief. "I am not above resorting to blackmail."

Amanda's smile appeared. "At Almacks he offered to escort Aunt Lucy and I to the opera."

"Oh the fortune I could have made if I had possessed that information. No one could believe he set foot in that matchmaking arena." Annabelle shook her head in mock sadness.

"Hush Annabelle." Clara whispered when a few gentlemen walked by. Once they were out of earshot she giggled and demanded to hear the rest. "Did anything else occur? What about the night of the opera? Were any promises made?"

"No." Amanda's brow puckered. "I do not think he is looking for a wife."

Annabelle said with a sly look. "What man is?"

The three laughed quietly. Clara looked up and her smile grew when she saw the subject of their conversation walking in. "Are you certain the viscount is uninterested?"

"I am fairly certain. He seemed rather cold with his parting." Amanda explained as she looked over at him talking to Lord Summers and another gentleman. Her eyes shined when she noticed a laughing pair of blue eyes looking their way. "Millie!"

Lady Millicient Rawlings joined their group and pressed her cheek to each. "Oh thank heavens you are all here! I thought I would be forced to go through another season on my own."

Annabelle and Clara shared a glance. "Actually, you two will have to suffer without us."

"What?! Why? You would leave us to fend for ourselves amongst the wolves?" Millie exclaimed.

"We are returning to Edgewater to prepare for my wedding." Clara explained. Her happiness was nearly bubbling over. "My prince is returning in two months and we will hold the ceremony at the estate's chapel. You will come, won't you?"

"Of course we will." Amanda promised.

"Though we will miss you dreadfully." Millie added. "Promise to return to London if you find you do not have much to do."

Clara laughed. "We swear."

The two parted from Millie and Amanda as they had another party to attend. Millie linked her arm with Amanda's. "And then there were two."

She laughed and nodded toward some of the gentlemen. "Who has caught your eye this season?"

Millie blew a frustrated breath. "None. If I have to overhear how my dowry makes me more attractive, I shall take what Father has settled on me and move to another country. Perhaps Italy. My cousin says it is lovely there."

"I had a gentleman call who could only speak about Snowfield. Do they all do that? Is this what I am to expect to happen during my London season?" Amanda asked warily.

Millie shrugged. "Some of the suitors are like that. Then there are those who pretend to compliment you yet are staring at what you can bring them. There are a few who are hopeless romantics, writing sonnets of how the moonlight causes a halo to form about your head, thus rendering the viewer incoherent."

Amanda snorted and quickly covered the action with her fan. "Millie! Did someone write that about you?"

"I might injure myself if I reproduce the groan I gave when Sir Peter did that very thing the other day." Millie replied, smiling at Amanda's struggle to not laugh.

"You do not offer me much encouragement with our choices." Amanda said in the midst of giggling.

"We do have other sets of gentleman to admire. We have the rakes and then the Rakes." Millie stressed the last.

"Oh." Amanda's hazel eyes scanned the crowd and landed on Thomas. She felt heat creep up her face when she found his own dark brown eyes straight at her. He inclined his head in acknowledgement, which she reciprocated.

"Lord Hunt is most assuredly a Rake." Millie decided.

"How can you tell?" Amanda asked.

"He doesn't have to do anything to gain a lady's attention. He never boasts of his conquests yet we all know he must have many. He shuns the matchmaking mothers and they still adore him! It is both vexing and tempting to associate with this type of gentleman." Millie let out a soft sigh as she observed the other gentlemen Thomas stood with.

Amanda cut her eyes to her. "You sound as if you have had your own Rake to deal with."

Millie blushed and nervously twisted the dark blonde curl draping her shoulder. "Indeed. I am well acquainted with this type of gentleman."

_____________________

"I could scarcely believe it when Ryan told me. Did you truly brave the trenches at Almacks for one lady?" Sir Christopher Winters asked.

"It is not what you think." Thomas muttered, turning 

"He's giving the rest of us a bad reputation. Now all the ladies expect us to tow the line and court them." Ryan explained.

"I am not courting Lady Amanda. I had a free moment here and there and--"

"And chose to spend it with her." Ryan reminded him. Thomas became silent with the realization that he had no leg to stand on in this argument.

"Well, I for one would like to meet this lady. After all Summers has shared, I think she might be quite amusing." Chris turned his head and searched about. "Which lady is she?"

Thomas glowered at his two closest friends as his temper reached its boiling point. "She is more than simply amusing. Do not bother her with your idiocy." He stormed off and left them grinning.

"I told him the other day that he could not resist paying Lady Amanda compliments or being by her side." Ryan explained.

Chris chuckled. "That explains why he has remained with us so long and been completely miserable." He continued to observe the ladies in the room, trying to guess which one caught Hunt's fancy.

"I will introduce you." Ryan began to navigate through the crowd. "Damn." He muttered. "Of all people who could latch on to her, why did it have to be that one?"

"Who?" Chris demanded. "I say Summers, point out who you are talking about. After my tour on the continent, I am unable to recall anyone."

"There. The dark headed lady in purple is Lady Amanda Bridgerton. The lighter colored one glaring at me is Lady Millicient Rawlings. Beware of that serpent. Her bite is equal to her venom. My wounds still smart." He mumbled.

"Ah, yes. The lovely Lady Millie. Buck up, man. She will not attack at this ball. Now hurry and introduce me. I promised Father, I would meet him at the club later." Chris pushed Ryan on.

"Ladies." Ryan bowed to them both. "What a delight it is to see such perfect examples of feminine beauty."

Amanda smiled warmly and held her hand out. Millie stuck her nose in the air, only giving the minimal acknowledgement one must to a marquis.

Ryan grinned at the two opposites before him. "Lady Amanda, allow me to present Sir Christopher Winters. Chris, this is Lady Amanda Bridgerton of Snowfield Abbey."

The young man's smile was infectious in his excitment. "Lady Amanda, I have looked forward to this meeting. I have heard much about you." He pressed a kiss to her hand and then focused on her companion. "Lady Millie, how are you this evening?"

"Quite well, thank you sir." Millie responded in a friendly manner.

"Excellent!" They heard the musicians tuning their instruments. Chris smiled and requested a dance from each. They handed him their cards and he wrote his name with a waltz for each. "Thank you ladies. Now if you will excuse me a moment, I promised my mother I would ask after Lady Mardson's father." He bowed and threaded his way through the crowd.

Lord Summers remained with the two causing Millie's temper to nearly snap. She glared at him and flicked her fan open, using it vigorously. He smiled at her inability to hide her annoyance and asked Amanda for a dance. She handed him her card and he wrote his name down for the first one. He then stood there waiting.

Millie realized the slur directed at her when he did not ask her for her dance card. She snapped her fan shut with a loud click and whispered to Amanda she was going to the retiring room. With a final glare at the man, she turned and left.

The music started and Ryan led her to the floor. After a complete turn around the floor, he asked her about the opera. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"I did, thank you." Amanda answered. "I must also express my gratitude for taking such excellent care of my aunt. That was terribly kind of you to escort her home."

"No trouble at all I assure you." He smiled and noticed Thomas on the sidelines, watching them closely. Actually, it seemed the lady in Ryan's arms was the one his gaze was focused on. "I understand this is your first season."

"Oh dear. Is it that obvious?" Amanda teased.

He chuckled. "Not at all. I believe Lord Hunt mentioned hearing that your debut was delayed."

Amanda blinked in surprise. Lord Thomas had not only found out about her reasons for holding off on coming to London, he had talked to another about her? "That is correct. My parents and uncle passed away within three years."

"My apologies for your loss." Ryan said softly. He quickly searched for a less depressing topic. "Other than reading, what other interests do you possess?"

Amanda's frown eased at his change of subject. "I have a great many. Walking, riding, music...listening not playing. I'm afriad I am quite dreadful."

Ryan let out a surprised laugh that drew attention toward them. "Lady Amanda, you are the first person I have ever danced with that actually admitted they were not talented. How many recitals I have suffered through from ladies lying about their accomplishments." He shuddered causing her to laugh. "On behalf of gentlemen everywhere, I thank you for not making us long to cut our ears off."

"My pleasure, sir." She said between giggles.

"Now then, what else do you enjoy?" He asked with genuine interest.

"Well, I am interested in attending The British Museum's exhibit of Elgin Marbles." She said with a smile. "I have heard that many of the statues are extraordinary."

"They truly are. I admit that when I saw them, I imagined what it must have looked when they stood in The Parthenon." Ryan glanced up again and searched for Thomas. He saw him retrieving some punch and cornered by some matron and her charge.

"Have you ever been to Greece?" Amanda inquired.

"No. Sadly, I haven't. I almost journeyed there when I was traveling the Continent. But, I found myself longing for home and booked the first passage I could to return to our shores." His smile was a tad boyish. "Sounds silly for a grown man to do so, does it not?"

Her answering smile gentled. "Not at all. It sounds honest."

Ryan took her hand and bowed over it when the song ended. "Lady Amanda, it was truly a pleasure that I hope to find repeated in the future." He smiled warmly as she expressed that she looked forward to it.

After returning her to Millie, he walked toward the card room and encountered Thomas. "Up for a hand of whist?" Ryan asked.

"No." Was the terse reply. Thomas scanned the room. "How was your dance?"

"Capital. She is quite graceful. Winters will be dancing with her at some point. I'm sure her card will be filled before long." Ryan grinned at his friend's moody silence. "Well Hunt, cards or are you going to dance?"

Thomas softly cursed before walking away from his chuckling friend. He stuck to the shadows to avoid some of the more pushy matchmaking mothers. He had been cornered by four conniving ladies and their daughters that made him long for a place to hide.

His eyes touched on each lady that wore purple until he saw the one he was searching for. He paused and leaned against the wall, observing as young and old asked her for a dance. His frown formed when he realized a healthy number of rakes were a part of the mix. Without another thought, he approached her side.

Her smile brightened he noticed, a bit placated when that happened. "May I?" He asked, holding his hand out.

She handed him her card. He smiled softly when he saw the supper waltz and last waltz were both avaiable. He quickly wrote his name on the two spots. Propriety's rule that only allowed a gentleman two dances with a lady suddenly irritated him. It left too many spaces available for morally questionable members of the ton to take advantage of an innocent. He bowed his head to her when he returned her dance card.

She opened it and felt her heart race. Two waltzes! "Thank you, my lord. I look forward to our dance."

His frown eased. "It is I who should be thanking you." Their attention was turned when one of the rake's approached for his dance. Thomas watched her perform the steps of the cotillion. Her expression remained pleasant as her partner spoke each time they met.

She in turn would say something that caused the rake to smile and laugh.

"Your frown is quite fierce. No wonder so few ladies dance with you."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Don't you have some chit to dance with?"

"Not at the moment." Chris replied in a chipper manner. My next dance is with Lady Millie followed by one with Lady Amanda. You should secure some dances yourself before they are taken."

"I have." Thomas admitted.

"Oh?" Chris followed his gaze and grinned the grin that most ladies swore could make them swoon. "I hope they were with a lady who's company you prefer."

"It is." Thomas frowned even more when he realized what he admitted. "Not in that manner." He muttered.

"Are you not tired of the denials yet?" Ryan asked as he approached. "She is a very amiable girl. Marvelous sense of humor. I wouldn't mind getting to know her better, myself."

Thomas turned abruptly on him. "What?!"

"Oh come now. You, yourself said that she was worthy of friendship. Perhaps she shall become my friend also. Who knows? In due course, I might come to see her in a different light." Ryan smiled innocently as Thomas began to turn nearly puce in color.

He sputtered for a moment before leaving them. Chris stared wide eyed at his retreat. "I say! Is it wise to goad him to that extent?"

"That could very well be the problem, young Winters. He has never been pushed to the point of having to make a definite decision on a lady. If what I think is happening is truly occuring, then I intend to see Hunt trussed like a goose and set before the altar with Lady Amanda at his side."

Chris smiled and held his hand out. The two friends shook with plans forming in their minds. "That is my intention too." He walked away to dance with Millie.

_______________________

As the evening progressed, Amanda and Millie found an alcove to escape and compare views of the gentlemen they had danced with. They each grimaced at having Lord Comery as a partner. The man had stomped on their toes throughout most of the dance.

"Why must men who can not dance have to step with such enthusiasm?" Amanda muttered as she rubbed her slippered foot.

"I believe the man must have rocks in his shoe. No one's foot should be that heavy." Millie let out a soft groan as another gentleman approached. "And now I have the pleasure of Sir Peter's creative genius."

The young man bowed low before them. "At last, my lady. I stand humbly before your ethereal presence to be granted an angelic touch from your gloved hand."

Amanda started coughing to hide her laughter and waved off the couple's concern. "Bit of dust. Forgive me."

Millie covered her mouth to conceal her own laugh. "We will see you in the dining room." She managed to say with a straight face.

Amanda stood up and smoothed her gown. She began to to make her way toward the floor, intending to be more visible for Thomas to find her.

"My lady." His fingers grasped her arm. She turned and smiled softly.

"My lord."

He guided her back to the dance floor and took her in his arms. Amanda could feel the heat of his hand through the thin silk of her dress. Their eyes locked as he led her in the waltz. After a few, tense, silent moments; he spoke. "Are you enjoying Lady Westford's ball?"

"I am. It is how I always imagined a London ball would be." Her lips curved. "Are you having a pleasant evening?"

His serious expression eased. "I suppose I am."

"I can tell. I do not think there is another gentleman in attendance who displays such joy being here." She teased.

A rare smile appeared, his first of the evening, causing those that witnessed it to whisper. "What am I to do with you, my lady?" He murmured. They continued the dance with opinions and smiles. He bowed when the dance ended and offered his arm. When she placed her hand on it he covered it with his.

"I take it this many people is what is deemed as a crush." She observed as they were stuck once again in the middle of a large crowd.

"It will be this way at each ball. Hostesses do tend to invite everyone within England's borders." He looked down at her and his lips curved. "Then they move up into the Outer Hebrides." His smile grew at her laugh.

___________________

They sat down and were soon joined by Lord Ryan, Lady Millie (who ignored the marquis), and unfortunately the poetic Sir Peter. Lord Comery also asked to join their group, much to no one's pleasure.

Talk turned to upcoming picnics and balls. A house party that was being organized by Lady Millie's parents in three week's time was greatly discussed. Lord Ryan observed Thomas and Amanda closely while an idea sparked.

"I believe an outing of some sort should be planned for our newly arrived lady. The British Museum and then on to Gunter's for refreshments and ices I think is what we should do." He suggested.

Millie forgot her irritation and smiled at Ryan. "That is a wonderful idea, Lord Summers! Oh do say you wish to go, Amanda!"

"Of couse I do." Amanda replied. "I do not want anyone to go to any trouble, though."

With a flick of his wrist, Lord Summers waved her concern away. "Going out for enjoyment, trouble? I think not. Pick the day ladies and Lord Thomas and I shall come by in the carriage for you."

"To see Lady Millie stand next to renderings of the gods themselves, the muses would surely be overflowing with poetry. I must be there to see such beauty next to the marbles of old." Sir Peter grabbed Millie's hand and placed it over his heart. "Swear to me that I may go!"

Ryan narrowed his eyes at the pair. "Good Lord, man. Get a hold of yourself." He reached over and helped her free her hand from the overly dramatic gentleman.

Lord Comery began to shake his head. "I'm afraid Lady Amanda will not be taking part of this outing. I would be more than happy to drive her in my barouche to meet the rest of the party at Gunter's, though only for tea. No ice, I think."

"I beg your pardon." Amanda said in shock.

Thomas' temper was barely holding on by a thread at the earl's nerve. "I do not see where you have the right to deny her."

The earl sighed as if dealing with troublesome children. "My dear lady, there will be statues there of the male form. It is not appropriate for eyes such as yours."

Amanda's cheeks darkened as her temper rose. "Sir, I am familiar with the classic artistic styles. I have studied both the sculptures in books along with the myths and legends they depict. I am no mere girl fresh from the schoolroom."

Millie nodded in approval while she too glared at the man. Sir Peter cocked his head to the side in wonder. "I understand sir if you do not wish to see such art, but why deny the lady an ice?"

Lord Comery coughed uncomfortably and took a sip of wine. "I am quite certain once Lady Amanda thinks on it some more she will agree with both my reasons for not attending and for not partaking of Gunter's sweets."

They all looked at her when she gasped. "Excuse me." Amanda placed her napkin on the table. "Please. Don't get up." She paused when Thomas stood up.

"I will escort you." He murmured. She shook her head, yet he held fast to her arm and led her out of the dining room.

"You are no gentleman." Millie hissed at Lord Comery. She threw her napkin in his face and rose from her chair. "Sir Peter. Lord Summers. Let us leave and finish planning the outing for Lady Amanda." She took both men's arms and pulled them with her.

"I still don't understand." Sir Peter whispered.

Millie smiled at him, her regard toward his silly poetry softening at his innocent heart. "That is because you are a true gentleman."

___________________

"My lord, please do not trouble yourself." Amanda said as she took his handkerchief. She and Thomas stood together outside along the path that led to a sunken garden. "I am simply being foolish in letting Lord Comery's remarks affect me."

He took his handkerchief from her and gently wiped her tears. "He is an imbecile." He placed a finger under her chin so he could look in her eyes. "You have been much sought after this evening."

She chuckled and shook her head as tears fell. "I believe my inheirtance played a larger part in that than my looks." Amanda placed her hand over his that wiped her tears. "You are most kind to try to reassure me, but I am no fool. Please do not think I am fishing for compliments from you, Lord Thomas. I know what is in style and I shall never match it. I am fine with this. I must have gotten swept away with the excitment of the ball and forgot..." She swallowed uneasily. "I must have forgotten."

He stilled and allowed his eyes to drift over her features before returning to her own hazel eyes. "I am not a fool either. Nor am I the type of man who utters compliments because it is something I think someone wishes to hear." He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing a stray tear away. "When a real man looks upon you, your inheritance does not even cross his mind."

Her lips parted in surprise at his words. His dark gaze focused on them before he dropped his hand. He stepped away from her and his expression became guarded. "Shall we return to the ballroom?"

She nodded and placed her hand on his arm to stop him. "Thank you." She whispered.

He took her hand in both of his and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles. "My pleasure."

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Sweet dreams 💙

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