#also those fuckin nails that look like claws because. fuck it. maybe he dresses over the top

[queenburd]

Cassowary motherfucker. This design is a lot more visually interesting to me now, but also I wanna kick his ass

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Please Don’t See Me - Chapter 3

Ford was late.

Stan paced, unable to quell the prickling of anxiety in his chest. Ford was late and it was starting to get dark and he hadn’t come back in the afternoon like he had the past four days Stan had been trapped there. He strained his ears but the only sounds he could catch were the usual foresty noises, squirrels and shit.

Yeah, Ford was a grown man who could handle himself, and yeah, he technically was keeping Stan locked up, but the guy didn’t know it and goddammit, Stan was allowed to be worried about his twin!

He continued to pace and growl to himself as the shadows got longer and the air began to chill. In fact, Stan was still fretting when the crashing in the trees became audible. His fur stood on end and he rumbled out a low growl. Alright, this wasn’t normal. Who the fuck was messing with his brother?

Stan got his answer soon enough, when he picked up Ford’s gasping breaths and panicked footsteps and the pounding and rumbling of something much larger on his tail. Were those wing beats? And yelling and smashing glass. He barked his lungs out, cursing this stupid cage that kept him from helping his brother. The air smelled like blood and feathers, fear and sweat.

Something thudded into the side of the shed. There was scrabbling at the door and then – oh thank god – Ford stumbled inside and slammed it shut after him, wincing as something heavy pounded on the other side. Stan paced anxiously.

What is it, bro? What’s wrong?

“I will very much regret this.” Ford gasped to himself, staggering further into the room with – wait, what was that gleaming in his hand? He was at the cage. There was metal scraping and a click that made Stan stiffen.

Ford paused to catch his breath, clutching the key in one hand and casting a fearful look over his shoulder at the shuddering shed door. The cage creaked. Unlocked. When Stan nosed it hesitantly it swung open before him. Ford winced and took a step back, gaze darting nervously between Stan and the commotion at the door.

“Err… yep. I already regret this.”

The door started to splinter as a head forced its way inside, and Stan didn’t hesitate before lunging forward and snapping a mouthful of whatever was trying to hurt his brother.

Fuckin finally. It had been forever since he had a good fight.

  Unlocking Rebus’s cage had been a last-resort sort of thing. Not in the plan, but a lot of things hadn’t gone to plan today. The flock of griffins that Ford had been trying to study had gotten angry and swarmed him. The hollow tree Ford had taken shelter in hadn’t lasted long under their beaks and claws. On the mad sprint home he’d tripped and hurt his ankle somehow.

And then, when he’d finally made it inside, the griffins had started smashing through his upstairs windows.

He found himself bolting for the last place of relative safety, the old shed he’d commissioned Dan to put up as extra storage space, and the one he had recently been using as housing for a very large, very dangerous wolf. Who was currently raging and barking like a mad thing.

It couldn’t get much worse, could it? Rebus was itching for a fight. May as well give him one and hope that it would serve as an adequate distraction.

So long as Ford could keep himself off the menu.

He flung himself into a corner and covered his head with his arms as Rebus surged forward. He tore into the griffin that was half-way through the door. The winged beast’s roars quickly turned into screeches of pain as a chunk of its flesh was ripped clean off, its wings thrashing frantically in an attempt to escape the cramped space. Ford made himself as small as he could against the wall.

Rebus forced his way outside and there were more screeches and yelps of pain, from griffins and wolf alike. The latter was also snarling though – deep, rumbling sounds that seemed to split the air like thunder. Ford considered shutting himself in the cage – would that be safer? – but decided against it when the shed shuddered under the force of thrashing bodies. Better to be mobile.

The mostly-ruined door crashed open, sending the two tussling creatures sprawling inside. A griffin had gotten on top of Rebus and was slashing down at him while the wolf twisted and snarled. Spittle and blood flew from the creatures. Rebus was on his back, vulnerable, and as Ford stared the griffin slashed at his exposed underbelly.

Ford grabbed the nearest object – a metal crowbar from the wall – staggered forward and swung it as hard as he could against the griffin’s head with a satisfying clang.

It screeched and Rebus took advantage of the distraction to surge up and snap at its throat. The griffin recoiled. Its wings thrashed wildly as it struggled to free itself from the enraged wolf, one of them clipping Ford and sending him tripping back to the floor.

The griffin, now limping, tore its way out of the shed with Rebus hot on its heels. It launched itself into the air and Rebus sprang after it. There was a loud ripping sound.

Rebus crashed to the ground with a mouthful of feathers.

Ford gasped for breath. The property around them was suddenly deathly quiet, only the distant wing beats evidence that the griffins had been there at all.

Holy Moses. He dropped the crowbar numbly and tried to remember how to breathe. Sure, dangerous circumstances were numerous when you worked in a place like Gravity Falls, but try telling his autonomic nervous system that.

There was uneven padding and the click-click-click of nails on a hardwood floor.

Ford tensed. Letting Rebus out of his cage had scared off the griffins, but they had been scared for a reason – the creature was dangerous, as it had just proved. What if Ford had only put himself in worse danger? What if Rebus’s calm disposition didn’t last outside of the cage? What if he saw Ford as the next threat to deal with, or prey, or-

Rebus’s shadow fell across him. Ford hunched his shoulders and tried not to look threatening.

A low, canine whine. Rebus stuck his nose into Ford’s hair to snuffle it, which rather ruined the appearance of ‘big scary monster’. Perhaps there was less animosity there than he’d feared. When Rebus licked his hair Ford let out a wheezy laugh of relief and reached up hesitantly to touch the wolf – this time Rebus allowed Ford to pet his ears with a shaking hand. The creature’s matted fur was wet with blood.

“Well,” Ford said finally, “I guess that solves the question of whether or not you’ll try to maul me. I hope.”

Rebus huffed in a way that almost sounded like a laugh. The canine lowered himself to nose at Ford’s injured ankle, letting out another little whine. Ford rolled his eyes.

“You’re more hurt than me.”

He wasn’t lying. Rebus’s coarse, matted fur had stopped some of the damage but there were still bloody scratches across his pelt; the slashes on his belly were shallow but long. They overlapped with old scars.

Once he was reasonably sure Rebus wasn’t going to tear his throat out, Ford rose and made his way carefully outside. Yech, his yard was a mess. Covered in pieces of debris and blood splatters and red-stained feathers. That would be a nightmare to clean. At least he had plenty of samples now?

  Stan was glad to be free of that cage and, thankfully, Ford didn’t seem inclined to put him back in it. He was far too busy with putting his house back in order and cleaning up their assorted injuries. Stan stayed very still and allowed Ford to dress his cuts with stinging antiseptic. Just because he was a wolf didn’t mean he couldn’t get infections.

He hadn’t actually seen Ford’s house before – he’d known that his brother lived near some woods, but that was about it. It turned out that Ford lived in a mad-scientist-looking shack in the forest with only a winding road as evidence that he wasn’t alone in this pine forest.

Heh. Pines in the pines.

Stan explored the house yard and kept watch on the darkened forest in case those bird-things made a reappearance, while Ford was sweeping up shattered glass and stuff. The things didn’t come back.

Good. No freaky hell-creatures were gonna mess with his brother, not while Stan was around.

…wait.

Stan was leaving now, right? That was the plan. The fact that Ford seemed to want him around – maybe even saw him as more than just another creature to study – couldn’t change the facts. If Ford ever found out who Stan really was, he would be furious. Even more so now that Stan had kept the secret for so long.

He padded out hesitantly onto the lawn, scanning the forest. He could just… walk away. He’d already paid his dues to Sixer, saving his life. And the Stanleymobile would still be in the woods somewhere.

But…

But.

Ford had needed him today. Who was to say that Ford wouldn’t need him again? Besides, Stan didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go.

What Ford didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, right?

“Rebus?” His brother’s call snapped Stan out of his thoughts and he glanced around to see Ford peering around the front door, as if trying to distinguish Stan against the night landscape. Heh. He remembered having crummy human vision.

Stan shook himself and trotted into the light, allowing Ford to spot him. The poindexter’s worried expression turned into a smile.

“There you are, I was worried you’d left.” He opened the door invitingly. “Since you don’t seem inclined to leave, I’m thinking you’ll want to be staying for a while. Inside might be comfier than out there.”

Stan didn’t hesitate to follow him inside.

[babbushka]

Each Eye (4/8)

Kylo was the most feared boss in the entirety of New York City. They said that the crime families were no more, that they had disappeared with the end of an era. You knew it wasn’t true, you saw first hand. The families didn’t disappear, they simply went underground, adapted.

Lucky for you, your man, and your family, no one could ever get rid of crime. Not really.

Mob Boss!Kylo x Reader

Word count: 8.5k Warnings: N*FW, mentions of violence/murder

Also available on AO3! 

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

It was true, what they said. About Kylo, about him being a monster. He was ruthless, focused, merciless. He had some wild thing living in his veins, simmering just underneath his skin, some evil harrowing thing with sharp teeth and curled claws and venom dripping from both sets of razors. 

You hadn’t tamed the beast, not by any means, but you certainly did a good job of keeping him occupied, you thought to yourself when the two of you had finished, your sore body littered with bruises and bites, sweet soft blooms in the wake of hard hands and grips too tight.

To your own credit, Kylo’s body didn’t fare much better; scratched to high heavens from your nails, bleeding in some parts from the force of it, dark splotches and marks all across his chest. But from his spot on the bed, whole frame shoved up against you, his fingers trailing in lazy patterns on your stomach as he kissed your cheek rosy from exertion in the afternoon sunlight, he didn’t seem to mind.

You took in a deep breath, let it out with a thoughtful hum, rolled off the bed and pulled him by the hand into the bathroom.

Another shower would be excessive, but a wipe-down was absolutely necessary, and he sat on the edge of the bathtub, beckoned you forward so you could stand between his legs.

“Good?” You asked, settled between his knees as he turned the faucet of the tub on, dunked a soft cloth underneath the spray when the water ran warm enough. 

“You’re always good.” He said with intense concentration as he began dutifully wiping you down.

“I meant you, my perfect darling. Are you good?” You asked, making his hand still for a moment from the praise as he turned those eyes up towards you, always looking up at you. He quirked the barest hint of a smile, just the flash of a dimple, and you knew he was preening, blushing from your words.

“I’m breaking out into song and dance.” He replied, deadpan humor of his making you laugh brightly, which in turn made him blush even more, blushing that he could make you laugh.

You couldn’t help but grin, card your fingers through his messy locks. They were clean from being washed only that morning, but the waves had tangled up in the process of him fucking the life out of you. Or maybe into you? Who knew, only time would tell.

“What are you wearing tonight?” You asked, partly because he seemed to be in a chatty mood, giving more than a one-word response. You liked when he was talkative, when he was smiling the way he was. It showed off those dimples you loved so dearly.

“I have a new velvet suit, was thinking about breaking that in.” He shrugged, big brown eyes filled with soul as he searched your face for your response.

You appraised him for a moment, how handsome he was. The way you could see the damage from the scar, how it had just very nearly missed his eyeball, how it had just very nearly avoided blinding him there. You leaned down slightly to kiss the high point of his cheekbone, where the split marred the flesh, as he carefully, adoringly, smoothed the cloth down the backs of your thighs, your calves.

“Velvet.” You finally said, pleased with his choice. “You know I love velvet. I’ll wear it too.” You decided, and he perked up, looking altogether too young, painfully young, in that way he sometimes did when he was excited.

“The red dress?” He licked his lips and you laughed just a little at his eagerness.

“No, I was thinking the purple.” You were sorry to say, tugged on his ear just a little and Kylo rolled his eyes fondly. He continued his ministrations while you hummed in thought, chewed on the inside of your cheek. Something had really been bothering you, from the moment you had regained the ability to form coherent thoughts, “I wonder what murder it was.”

“Hm?” Kylo asked, too occupied with pressing his thumbs into the red marks he left on your hips, occupied with cleaning your stomach.

“Pigs said there was a murder. I wonder who did it.” You specified, and he shrugged.

“It wasn’t any of our people, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” He said, and you chuckled, leaned down for a kiss one more.

“Do you think it could be the same person involved with sending those guys to rough up Larry?” You asked, as his hands dropped the cloth and he pulled you closer closer closer, until you were in danger of knocking him backwards into the tub, in danger of making him lose his balance as his lips were seemingly magnetized to your own.

“Yeah.” Kylo said, eyes slipping closed as you met him halfway and made out with him for a little bit before he pulled away with a low growl in the back of his throat, stopping himself from getting hard all over again. “And it probably is. I don’t entirely believe that it’s not Hux. No one else has the nerve to fuck around with us like that. Maybe we can talk more about it after dinner, I can call some guys and see what’s up, they can get back to me after we eat.” Kylo continued, and your eyebrows nearly shot up at such a speech.

You stepped back, gave him enough room to stand up, and it never failed to amuse you just how tall he was.

So tall and yet he bent – physically and metaphorically – to your will, to meet you.

You turned around to face the mirror, the long clean mirror that covered the wall of the bathroom, and smiled at the reflection of your naked bodies. Kylo stood behind you, and yet he was still so wide that you could see his sides poking out from behind you, watched as his hands slid around your stomach to hold you.

“Will you tell me where we’re going?” You asked, and he kissed your cheek.

“No.” He gave your lower stomach a little smack, before walking away in search of underwear, the chill of the room finally starting to settle in after being so hot from sex.

“But I want to know.” You complained playfully, laughing when a clean pair of your own underwear was chucked at your head.

“Tough shit.” He said, and though he didn’t smile, his eyes shimmered with a lightheartedness of his own.

You snatched them before the cotton could hit you in the face, and stepped into them while he watched with his own approving glare.

“Who d’ya think you are? Talkin’ to me like that?” You folded your arms in front of your chest, stalking towards him in manner that had him backing up out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

“Love you.” He said and you just snapped your teeth at him, making him snatch you around the waist and circle you around and around, to music that wasn’t there, dip you low so he could kiss your laughing mouth.

You eventually got dizzy, and pushed at his chest lightly with a big smile.

“Yeah yeah.” You rolled your eyes, pinched his ass when he set you right, “Go wrap yourself in velvet why don’t you?”  

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

Being that it was Sunday, Dopheld was available to drive you both to the restaurant. You and Kylo were snuggled up in the backseat of the car, you in your fur coat and matching hat, and he in his suit, his hand on your knee, possessive and hot.

You had to admit, you were anticipating something overly expensive and exclusive, like Le Bernardin, or Eleven Madison Park, so when Dopheld pulled the Bentley up to a rustic looking jazz club, you were both very excited and amused.

Kylo looked to you, gauging your approval for the place, and you nodded simply.

“Thank you, Dopheld.” Kylo said, before promptly getting out of the car and holding the door open for you.

Your driver only gave a bright smile in response, before driving away to do goodness knows what. Kylo offered you his arm and you took it easily, your heels careful of the ice that had started to form on the pavement.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ren! What an absolute pleasure it is to have you celebrate your special night with us.” The hostess at the door of the restaurant said when the two of you walked in, “Please allow me to take your coat, shall I escort you to our private room?”

Once again, Kylo surprised you by shaking his head as you shimmied out of your furs, handed them over with care.

“No, no thank you.” He replied, voice measured, deep. “We’d like our table to be right with everyone else.”

The hostess was undoubtedly surprised as well, but she was at least decent enough to not be so flustered. You felt bad, the poor woman had probably arranged for something special that would now go to waste. Kylo didn’t care, and stood there expectantly, waiting for the host to finish speaking with a waiter or two, to rearrange the seating.

“Right this way.” The woman said eventually, and Kylo gestured for you to go first, him trailing behind.

It wasn’t until you gave a habitual passing glance out the door, that you realized Kylo had asked Knuckles and Slip to keep watch over the evening. You smiled in their direction, knowing they could see it, before going deeper into the restaurant.

It was dark outside now that the sun had gone down, but you were sure it’d be black as night in this place no matter the time of day. It was a true and proper lounge, with a fully stocked bar encased in dark wood, small round tables covered in a white cloth and decorated with a tea-light candle and bouquet of flowers were arranged so that patrons and waiters alike could weave through the paths with ease. It was smoky, one of the last lounges that allowed smoking indoors you were impressed, and the lights were all dimmed low and golden, except for the lights which illuminated a stage. The thick red curtain was closed for now, but Kylo was checking his watch, so you knew something must be starting soon.

The host brought you to your table, a prime spot in view of the stage. Not too close that you’d be craning your neck all evening, but not too far away that many heads could get in your way. It was even close to the open dance floor, which would no doubt be filled with sentimental couples. You were already planning on being a sentimental couple yourself, as Kylo pulled your chair out for you.

“Who’s preforming tonight?” You asked the hostess, who glanced at the stage and then at her own watch.

“We’ve received a special request for the evening, it’s just our house band but they’re doing covers of Sinatra songs.” She replied, and you couldn’t help but suck in a breath.

“You’re so good, you know that?” You turned to Kylo, grasped his hand in an adoring squeeze as he shifted his chair to sit next to you as opposed to across from you.

You pressed your side right up against his as the host left, clearly wanting to give you space.

“Oh I’m even better, just wait.” He said in a rare display of cheeky confidence.

When the food arrived, it was a smorgasbord of all your favorites. It felt like the courses were never-ending, between the appetizers and the soup and the main dish with all its sides. Every bite was somehow more delicious than the last, and you wanted to know how Kylo had found such a place, such a hole-in-the-wall.

You wondered if it was in his jurisdiction, or if the owners just knew of him, like over at John’s.

Almost as soon as the food arrived, did the band get up on stage. Dressed like they were from the 1940s, transporting you back in time. Not in that hokey way of poorly made wigs and generic fedora hats, but in a considerate way, a thoughtful way, attention to detail in the history of the fashion, respecting the times.  

You hummed and tapped your foot along to the music as you and Kylo stared into one another’s eyes, being obnoxiously in love without a care in the world. He fed you, lifted your fork up to your lips, and you carefully avoided smudging your lipstick.

You’re both relatively quiet while you eat, too wrapped up in each other’s gaze and more than happy to simply enjoy the music. The singer did a wonderful job imitating the songs, putting his own spin on some of the intonation every now and again in a way you appreciated. But eventually, the last course was taken away, and you had the urge to dance.

One look towards the dance floor had Kylo rising from his seat and offering you his hand, which you gladly took, and he walked you to the middle of the floor. You weren’t the only couple there, not by any means – it felt like half the tables were empty of people instead swaying back and forth.  

When the big band orchestra played up Always, you couldn’t help but grin and blush, duck your head just a little, just enough for Kylo to tip your chin back up to meet his gaze through lidded eyes. His arm slid around your waist, his other moving to grasp your hand as he turned you round and around on the dance floor.

And people always said you were the sentimental one, you couldn’t help but think as the singer up on the stage crooned out your wedding song. Kylo himself was starry-eyed, chewing on his lip, and you didn’t deny him a kiss, didn’t deny either of you a soft, romantic kiss.

The lounge was hazy and smooth, and though you’re surrounded by other couples in diamonds and pearls, you feel like the luckiest woman on earth, the only woman on earth.

“How come you wanted us in the middle of everyone?” You asked softly, a small smile on your lips as the two of you waltzed slowly to the music.

“I saw some familiar faces when we walked in. Figured they wouldn’t cause a scene if we were out in the open.” Kylo said, and your brow creases slightly.

“Where?” You asked, and Kylo’s jaw clenched, he rotated you both around so that you’re facing the opposite direction.

“Just past the big pillar.” He said, low in your ear, as his lips brushed against the back of your cheek, pressed a chaste kiss to your skin. You hummed and let him keep kissing as you searched for who might be there to bother you, when your eyes landed on them.

The brother sister duo of Roisin and Connor were chatting near the great marble pillar which supports the ceiling of the ritzy lounge, and you held your eye contact when they took notice of you noticing them. They looked good, you had to admit. The deep green satin dress complimented Roisin’s ginger hair and freckled complexion beautifully, and you couldn’t ever recall a time where you didn’t see Connor in a suit. His wasn’t velvet like Kylo’s, but it was still tailored well enough and had big enough shoulder pads to broaden him out a bit.

“Fuck.” You breathed when they decided you’ve been staring too long, “They’re Irish. And they’re coming over.”

Kylo seemingly didn’t mind too much, not in the moment anyway, and just kept dancing with you as they made their way across the floor, joining in and dancing with one another to not seem so conspicuous.

You and Kylo did your best not to look suspicious, not to look alert, not even when they wound up dancing right next to you. Seemingly nothing but two couples, strangers in this great big world, happening to steal a piece of the beauty of the moment.

That is until the song ended, and there’s polite applause for a song well sung, until they turned to face you as the man took a big swig of water and shared a small anecdote that has the crowd chuckling in amusement while the band set up for the next song.

“Kylo, (Y/N).” Connor kept his voice low, at least had the decency to nod his head in respect, “Fancy meeting you here.”

“What do you want?” Kylo cut right to the chase, and Roisin laughed in that quiet, elevated way people of high society laugh.

“A dance.” She said, and you’re prepared to claim your man right in front of her, when she surprised you by looking right at you and specifying, “With (Y/N).”

“No.” Kylo said immediately, grip around your waist tightening. But something in Roisin’s appraising gaze is calculating enough to interest you.

“One dance.” You said, that gaze a challenge. You’ve never been known to back down from a challenge.

Kylo and Connor both exchanged glances, and Kylo’s jaw worked and worked and worked to keep his mouth shut, as he nodded, as they both walked to the sidelines.

He’s not happy about it, not happy one fucking bit, but you wanted to know what’s going on. Roisin’s skin was soft where her dress wasn’t covering her, thin spaghetti straps showing off her toned arms. She assumed the leading position, which you found you didn’t mind.

“Roisin, is everything okay?” You asked, brushing a strand of curled hair off of her shoulder.

“No, they’re not. We’re here to serve as a warning.” Roisin said with a bit of a sigh, and you nodded.

Warnings were messy, they always were. You didn’t have a gun on you, didn’t think you’d need it, but you knew Kylo had three on him right now, he could intervene if he needed to. You may not have had a gun, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t kill her right then, right there.

And you would, but you wanted answers first.

“Just tell me something first, is it Hux?” You asked, as she twirled you slowly, dipped you down down down, stomach fluttering from it as she raises you back up, all too similar to how Kylo had in the bathroom.

“Is what Hux?” She asked, and you didn’t really appreciate that, playing dumb.

“The person committing all the murders, sending guys to harass our business owners?” You spelled it out, gave her that much leeway.

Except.

She faltered the dance for a moment as she frowned, her pale brows knitting as she regarded you for a moment. In your peripheral, you saw Kylo and Connor tense, incredibly tense, as they watched the two of you on the dance floor.

“Wait – we thought you were the ones committing the murders and sending guys to harass our people.” She said quietly, her hands reclaiming your waist and palm, resuming the dance once more.

It wouldn’t do to draw attention, not now.

“We haven’t sent anyone anywhere.” You shook your head, now thoroughly unhappy with the proceedings of this Midtown disaster. “Shit, you’ve got people dying too?” You asked, and she groans in the back of her throat, nods.

“Yeah, fuck. Well this makes it awkward.” She sighed, careful to avoid stepping on your toes as she spun you around, and ahh there it is.

“Makes what awkward?” You prompted, just to get it out of the way.

“I’m supposed to kill you. Hux thinks Kylo’s crossed a line, one of his favorite suppliers was found carved up last night.” She explained, and you hummed thoughtfully, because really by all accounts his reaction makes sense given his perspective.

Too bad it’s the wrong one.

“If you’d like you can give it your best try.” You offered Roisin, who looked at you like you’ve got three heads.

“You’re going to let me murder you?” She asked, and you laughed brightly, shook your head.

“I’m going to let you try.” You specified, making her grin.

Many people have tried.

Roisin reached in between her cleavage and pulled out the smallest little gun you’ve ever seen, one that probably could only hold three or four bullets, one that she pressed against your hip, leaned in close, her perfectly applied lipstick very close to your cheek. The metal was cold, cold enough that you could feel it through the velvet of your dress, and she hummed, her lashes tickling your skin.

Before she can cock the trigger and plant her literal kiss of death, you reached into your hair and pulled out the long needle that you’ve used as a decorative pin to hold your locks up, and swiftly pushed it between her ribs, penetrating that pretty green satin. The needle slid into her flesh like she’s made of butter, and you couldn’t help but smile just a little as you turned your face to press a kiss to her own cheek, leaving the pretty imprint of your deep red lips.  

“Damn.” She chuckled with a wince, as your hand was now pressed right against her skin, as you let go of the needle. It remained deep inside her, puncturing one of her major arteries. She tensed up immediately from the pain, “You really are fast.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” You whispered, “You can keep that.” You tap the pretty handle of the needle, encrusted with jewels that you’ll be sad to miss.

But if you pulled it out of her right now, then she’d die practically on the spot, and that would cause a scene. You very well couldn’t have that.

Not on your anniversary.

“I suggest you leave.” You said, as the song ended, her one dance up. You turned to the singer and applauded along with everyone else, as Roisin started to cough. You didn’t bother looking at her again while saying, “And if you make it long enough, when you’re out of the hospital tell Hux we didn’t send anyone to do anything. This was in self-defense.”

“Fair enough.” Roisin groaned.

“Actually,” You said, stopping her before she could get too far, “I do really want to keep this, if you don’t mind.”

With wide eyes she was unable to stop you from reaching out and pulling the needle out of her stomach. Connor rushed over, as she immediately doubled down onto herself, clutching at the rapidly growing dark splotch in her dress.

He hurried the two of them out of the lounge, with only a minor commotion. The way Roisin was hunched over herself made it look more like she was suffering from food poisoning than a stabbing.

“Do you mind if I borrow this?” You asked a near-by table for their napkin as Kylo wove through the crowd like a shark.

You gave the man seated at the table the most dazzling charming smile you could, and he didn’t think twice about handing over his black cloth napkin. You gratefully took it right when Kylo showed up, slid his arm around your waist and shot the meanest glare he was able. You only kissed Kylo’s cheek, and having now procured the napkin, returned to the dance floor with him, leaving the man in the dust.

You wiped the needle off on the cloth and were about to twist your hair back up when Kylo lightly stopped your wrist.

“Keep it down.” He said, and you smiled, slipped the needle inside his jacket pocket. He began to dance with you again, as you both surveyed the floor – it was clear of blood, which was good. Didn’t need the pigs snooping around more than necessary. Still, Kylo had been out of earshot, so he was curious when he asked, “What happened?”

“She’ll be dead by the time they get to the car.” You mused, but he wasn’t smiling.

“Yeah but why?” He asked again, and you chewed your lip in thought.

“Hux thinks we’re the one fucking up all over the place. It’s really not him, Kylo.” You said, and his jaw clenched tight again.

“Someone is trying to pit our families against each other.” He made the obvious statement just to make it, just to try and make sense of it, “But I don’t know why.”

“There’s a lot of sick sons of bitches out there, but there’s even more stupidity. Ask the KoR to feel around just like you said, there’s got to be some evidence of this mystery person.”

“Okay.” Kylo nodded, already reaching in to take out his phone. “Also, I want to go, tomorrow. I think we should.”

You gave him a questioning glance for a moment, his decision surprising you for a moment longer, before you huffed a small laugh and plucked the cell phone right out of his palm, and he rolled his eyes. He worked too much, you thought.

“It can wait until we’re on our way home.” You puckered your lips, and Kylo, the man so in love as he was, swooped down to plant a loud smack right to your lips.

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

It took less than thirty seconds after the front door closed for Kylo to be all over you, hands all over you, lips all over you.

You let him, in the dark of your foyer, you let him.

“You were so good today.” You breathed, allowing yourself to simply feel adored, to let Kylo give whatever he wanted, take as much as he gave.

“Was I?” He asked, licked his lips, eyes wide, bright in the moonlight.

There was something there, something eager and filled with anticipation – but a hunger as well. That same hunger he had shown you earlier in the day, that same hunger he always seemed to have, stomach of the beast rumbling for you.

“Yes, very good. Tonight was so wonderful.” You whispered, cupped his cheeks in your hands and kissed him too sweetly, licked gently into his mouth in the way that made him keen and whine, desperate.

You let your hand fall to his crotch, shoved it down his trousers and found his cock already hard, already so full for you. You gave it a few good, even, steady strokes, ones that had his huge frame twitching, curling in towards you, shoulders rounding in and making himself small, making himself try and swallow you whole.

“I-I’m glad.” He moaned, and you smiled, kissed the corner of his open mouth as you sped up your hand a little more, used the pre-come that was slowly oozing out of his cock as lube to wet your hand more and more.

“I think someone deserves something sweet.” You pulled away, leaving him frustrated in the most delicious way.

“Let me eat your pussy?” He asked, so quick, like he had been hoping for this, had been planning for it.

“Get me naked first.” You ordered, and he was eager, desperate to do so.

So desperate in fact, that he didn’t even make it to the bedroom. He walked you to the living room, and splayed you out on the couch, shedding your layers on the way.

You had surprised him, by not wearing any underwear. This was both of your night, after all. You winked at him when he kneeled between your legs, fully dressed while you were now naked. He groaned into your skin just from the sheer lust he felt for you, buried his face between your knees in a way that made you laugh.

He thunked his forehead against your thigh and kissed the spot there before pulling your hips to the edge of the couch.

You were growing impatient yourself, and you helped the process along by propping your bare foot up against the shiny coffee table that would no doubt be smudged with your oils and sweat in a few moments, after he had had a taste of you.

You propping your foot up gave him a little nook between your legs that he could live in, and live there he did. He closed his eyes and breathed you in, breathed in the smell of your cunt, running his hands up and down your calves, the backs of your thighs, just breathing, until his mouth was literally watering so much he had to swallow hard, and then he dove in.

“Yes!” You gasped when he finally did breach you.

His tongue felt so good against you, the way it wriggled deep inside you, the way it dragged against the walls of your pussy, and you moaned loud, unashamed. His hands gripped your hips as he pushed his face as close to your cunt as possible, his nose rubbing against your clit, prodding it there as he spread your folds with his tongue and lips, sucked them into his mouth, swallowed down all the slick that your pussy gave him.

“Oh,” You gasped, chest heaving as you tangled your hand in his hair, the other gripping the cushion of the couch, “Fuck it’s so good, you’re so good.”

He moaned into you, and fuck that was a feeling you could cry from, the devastatingly deep baritone of his voice radiating through your body, right into your very core. He pulled away though and you complained, verbally protesting with a disappointed groan, which had him pleading with those eyes, kissing the inside of your knee.

“What -- ?” You asked. You could see your juices all over his goatee, in his beard and there was something sick and delicious about the way he licked it off his moustache.

“I have to fuck you.” He explained, shucking off his four-thousand-dollar suit like it was made of paper. “I have to, get inside this tight cunt.” He begged, and you nodded, frantic.

“Take me, come on, take what you want, make me come.” You were just as eager, just as desperate, and you made room for him on the couch, shimmied up it and laid horizontally across the cushions so he could settle himself between your legs.

He slid in easily, smeared his body against yours.

“Oh shit.” He groaned, sinking deeper and deeper into your hot pussy, breathing hard against your throat where he had buried his face. “You’re so fucking beautiful, made for me, just for me.”

“Kylo!” You whined his name, threw your head back when he began to thrust.

“I’m going to make you scream my name, I want you to scream for me, I want all of Manhattan to hear you crying on my dick.” He promised, and you could see it, could feel it, the way the monster was peeking through, the way his eyes had glazed over, so in love with you.

He built up a rhythm that had you shouting in no time, breath hot in his ear as he bit down on the spot where your neck and shoulder met. His hips rolled against yours, ground into yours, and your knees dropped open from the pleasure of it, legs turning to jelly and jam, melting under his touch.

“Oh please,” It was your turn now, your turn to beg, as tears welled up in your eyes under his ministrations, as he fucked fucked fucked you, touched you.

And oh did he touch you everywhere, every linger of his fingers a reverence, a declaration. He fucked you, hard and rough, skin slapping on skin, with one foot planted on the floor to give him the amount of leverage he needed, to let him really slam his hips so hard against yours that it felt like he was fucking your throat -- but he did it with nothing short of wonder in his face, that he could have this, that he could have you.

Three years you’d been married, a lifetime of love before that, and still despite it all, he always considered himself so lucky to get to take you apart like this.

He lifted one of your legs where it had gone limp, lifted it up and over his shoulder so he could plow into you faster, harder, punching the air out of you, the high shouts and moans and gasps out of you. All of it was music to his ears, all of it was praise, and all of it only made him want to work harder, only made him crave you more deeply.

He growled, angry suddenly, angry that he couldn’t just do this all the time, couldn’t just live in your pussy like he wanted, and nearly snapped you in half as he manhandled you instead onto your hands and knees. He draped himself across your back, kissed your spine, the nape of your neck where he pushed all your hair away.

His body was a cage around yours as his hips shoved his cock deeper into you, a better angle, a better and more filling feeling, having him fuck you from behind. His arms were strong and the muscles there worked effortlessly to hold himself up as he ground into you, as his cock knocked up against your cervix in a way that was nearly painful.

He let one hand slide against your abdomen, let his hot and sweaty hand feel you. He swore he could feel your heartbeat in your pussy, right there for him, beating wildly and erratically just the way he was for you. He bit down on you hard, drank in the sound of your cries as that hand moved lower and lower, until he was toying with your clit, zig-zagging across it in a way that had your shoulder-blades pinching inwards as your arms gave out under you, your upper half collapsing down onto the cushions.

He wasn’t done with you, not even while you came, still pushing into you. He was hot, dripping sweat all over your back, his goatee scratching up your skin as he mouthed and sucked at you.

You could feel it, eventually, when he did come, when his hips finally pressed up against yours for the last time for the evening, when he crushed you into the couch with his weight.

“Honey?” You asked, voice muffled from where you were smushed into the couch.

“Uh huh?” Kylo panted, eyes shut tight, still coming inside you.

“Maybe don’t kill me on our anniversary.” You laughed, huffed a little, and he huffed out too, kissing the spot between your shoulders and rolling you both over.

He mis-calculated though, and you both rolled onto the floor with a yelp.

At least you landed on top of him, and laughed.

He looked up at you, always looking up at you, with such love in his eyes that you simply had to kiss him, you had to, so you did.

And if the two of you stayed there on the floor, on top of the plush rug of the living room, covered in sweat that was cooling to only a light itch, the great expanse of the city just outside your window, the Chrysler building all lit up, well, who could blame you?

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

The next day, you both found yourselves in Long Island.

Standing outside Leia’s door.

You held a casserole dish in your hands, one that was covered with tin foil, and Kylo was doing his very best not to bolt back to the car where Dopheld had parked it in the driveway.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, standing out front on the doorstep. “It’s not too late to turn back now, if you want.”

“No.” Kylo grit out, and your heart broke a little.

Before you could press him on the manner, he lifted his hand to ring the doorbell. He didn’t even get as far as making contact with the little button before the door swung open, revealing a very short, and very angry woman on the other side.

“Well!” Leia scoffed, “Look who actually decided to show up for lunch today.”

You winced, shutting your eyes so you wouldn’t bear witness to it, to the suffering you knew was going to come with this visit.

Leia hosted lunch every Monday. And just about every Monday, you and Kylo avoided it like the plague. It was supposed to be an attempt at bringing the family together, at reconnecting and healing old wounds, but it became clear after too many screaming matches and physical blows between family members, than it would be best if Kylo just…didn’t show up.

So he never did. You were always the one to call her, to let her know that oh, no, we’re so sorry but something’s come up. Every week without fail, she called and every week you were the one to answer. It had been nearly three months since Kylo had actually spoken aloud to his mother.

Which of course brought in a whole separate argument, one that Leia was gearing up to starting right now, right there on the front porch.

“Hi mom.” Kylo said, although he didn’t sound particularly thrilled. He didn’t even make an effort to attempt to smile.

“I’m shocked and surprised and honestly? A little disappointed.” Leia said in that way of hers that was supposed to cut deep, supposed to hit too close to home.

You wondered when that line was no longer drawn to even be able to be crossed any longer.

“Good to see you too mom.” Kylo kept it dry and to the point, because really, he wasn’t here to see Leia.

She threw her hands up in exasperation before taking the casserole from you.

The inside of the house was normal. Leia never liked the lavish lifestyle, not even when she was still running things with Han. Before Han, well. You tried not to think about that.

But it was a very normal, regular, suburban house. You couldn’t imagine living in it.

You directed your attention away from the furnishings and back to your husband, who was doing his absolute best not to explode. You held his hand and gave it a tight squeeze, you just knew his other one was balled into a fist where it was shoved in his trousers’ pocket.

You and Kylo were the first ones to show up to the lunch; Lando, Chewie, Luke, Wedge, and Rey all presumably on their way.

“No phone call, no visits – ” Leia starts, although she’s cut off by the arrival of Kylo’s Uncle.

Like Lando, Chewie wasn’t really related to Kylo in any way, but he had been Han’s best and most close companion, so he had more or less been indoctrinated into the family.

Things were the most tense between Chewie and Kylo though, so Kylo remained in his corner, silently glaring at the clock on the wall, as you made up for his rudeness with overly politeness on his behalf.

“Hey Uncle Chewie.” You said, leaning in to exchange greeting cheek kisses.

“It’s good to see you, (Y/N), been too long, eh?” Chewie smiled, his teeth unnervingly sharp.  

“You just drop in whenever it’s convenient to you, not caring about your poor mother.” Chewie’s comment sparked Leia’s whole spiel again.

“Mom, you’re many things but you’re not poor.” Kylo finally snapped, before exhaling deeply out of his nose and asking, “Where’s Rey?”

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking. My back is fine, thanks for asking.” Leia spit back at him, purposefully being difficult.

“How’s your back?” Kylo asked dryly, a hard stare on his face.

“It’s fine.” Leia sarcastically replied.

“And you wonder why I don’t come.” Kylo muttered under his breath, shook his head and you spared him a glance.

This was a mistake, of course it was a mistake, and you were upset with yourself for not fighting Kylo on the subject further. He was literally backed into a corner, had situated himself in a corner of the kitchen where the two counter-tops converged, and he was starting to lose his patience to a point where you worried about how close he was to the knife block.

“You’re lucky I don’t hand you over to the police right now.” Leia sneered, but Kylo only scoffed.

“Go ahead.” He dared, voice even and deep, eyes hard, knowing that even if she did, even if she called her precious pig Poe, they’d not find a single damn thing on him, on any of you.

“Mrs. Organa, will Rey be coming today?” You asked lightly but firmly, wanting to respect her in her home but also stand up for your husband, and to get an answer. If Rey wouldn’t be there, you’d yank him out and take him back to Manhattan in a heartbeat.

“Of course she’s coming – unlike one of my children, Rey has respect for tradition and family.” Leia replied, passive-aggressive.

“We’re taking Midtown from her.” Kylo said, making both her, and Chewie – who had been rifling through the fridge this whole time to try and find a beer – freeze.

“You’re doing what?” Chewie asked, a look of disbelief on his face.

“Midtown. We’re taking it away from her.” You nodded, answered for Kylo who had officially moved away from the knife block and had come to stand behind you, arms taking their place around your middle.

It was quiet for a long while, as Leia and Chewie looked at one another for a moment.

“I hope you’re prepared for an argument.” She said, for once not entirely venomous.

“I’m always prepared for an argument with you people.” Kylo muttered again, distracting himself with kissing your neck slightly.

“What Kylo means,” You interpreted, as Kylo nosed at the exposed skin from where your blouse’s neckline revealed, “Is that we know it’s going to upset her, that’s why we wanted to announce it here, where she could be comfortable. We didn’t want to show up at her house like last time to tell her.”

“Tell who what?” A voice asked from the living room, followed by the sound of the closing of the front door.

Kylo took a deep breath – but Leia beat him to the punch, leaving the kitchen to go greet her daughter.

“They’re taking away Midtown from you.” She told Rey before anyone else could even do so much as blink, as she hugged Rey, who had gone stiff as a board.

“Mom!” Kylo snapped --

“You’re what?” Rey shouted at the same time.

Kylo hid firmly behind you as Rey stalked, lethal into the kitchen with her teeth bared. She was so feral when she was angry – they all were, but for some reason she reminded you more of Anakin than anyone else.

“Listen kid, that part of the city is a fucking mess and is only getting worse ever since we let you handle it.” Kylo said it, plain and simple, but Rey didn’t agree.

“No it hasn’t!” She protested, storming more and more into the kitchen.

You remained unflinching, a literal barrier between them.

“We heard from some of the KoR this morning, there’s been three break-ins and four murders in the last 5 days. The thing with Lenny isn’t an isolated incident. The police are starting to call it a crisis and they’ve got cars patrolling the area now. Word on the street is people are saying Hell’s Kitchen is going back to how it was when Brendol was running it, and we just can’t have that.” You said, trying to explain it to her the most calm and collected way you could.

Kylo was growing more and more riled, more and more irritated in a way that was nothing but danger.

“Some of our associates are calling me, saying there’s no way to get a hold of you, you don’t return anyone’s calls, you’re never in the fucking office.” He said, running a hand through his hair so he didn’t punch his sister in the face, “I’m sorry Rey but we can’t risk anything more over there. We’re pulling you from Midtown.”

Rey wasn’t happy.

“You can’t do that.” She shook her head, fuming, “I won’t let you do that. I’ve got too much going on right now for this shit.”

“What? What’s going on? You can tell us Rey we want to make sure there’s no trouble.” Leia asked, put herself into this mix.

“No I can’t fucking tell you.” Rey groaned as she scrubbed a hand down her face.

“Is it Gwen?” Leia asked again, not dropping it, “I thought things were going well between you.”

“It’s not – listen my sex life has nothing to do with this.” Rey shouted, and there we go, you thought, let the shouting begin.

“Rey.” Kylo suddenly went dead still, his hand frozen from where it had been tensing against your stomach, “Are you running business behind my fucking back?”

Everyone, including yourself raised their brows at that, at that assumption, that conclusion, that question. You searched his face for where the hell he had come up with that, but Rey lunged at Kylo’s throat before you could even question him about it.

You were caught in the cross-fire for all of two seconds, before Kylo quickly stepped in front of you so you wouldn’t get hurt, as the siblings literally wrestled to the fucking floor.

“Should we stop them?” Chewie asked, but you shook your head.

“No, not yet.” Leia agreed, “Not until she get’s in a good swing at least.”

That made you roll your eyes, made you want to throw a fist of your own, but you restrained yourself. This really wasn’t supposed to have been a brawl, but Rey and Kylo were now punching the shit out of one another, fighting dirty, using all the tricks in the book and shouting at each other in the process.

They had knives drawn, little switch-blades hidden in boots and coat pockets, and were doing a real number on trying to cut the other’s tongue out, trying to slice throats, trying to gouge out eyes.

“No, I’m not running any fucking business behind your back!” Rey slapped Kylo hard across the cheek, and in response he wrestled her around and slammed the back of her head against the hard tile floor.

The sharp crack made everyone wince.  

“Then what the fuck is up?” Kylo demanded, deranged, the both of them crazy, practically frothing at the mouth with hate for one another.

“I’m going to school!” Rey screamed in his face, making everyone let out a sound of confusion.

“…What?” Kylo asked, dumbfounded, panting, as he held his blade up to her throat.

“I started school, you fucking jackass. I’m getting my degree.” Rey explained, “The reason I’m gone all the time is because I have classes and exams, god you’re so selfish, not everything revolves around you, Boss.”

“Rey that’s wonderful! Why didn’t you tell us?” Leia asked, clasping her hands in front of her like her two children were not currently trying to actively murder one another with weapons they were far too trained to use.

You walked over calmly and placed a hand on Kylo’s shoulder, a silent order for him to get up, and he did. He stuck his blade back in his pocket, and you saw a flash of the guns he had in his holster as he did so. You were lucky it hadn’t come to that.

“I didn’t want to be cross-examined for every single fucking choice I make, let alone by this one.” Rey sighed, before standing up and brushing the struggle off of her clothes, saying again, “I’m going to school.”

But...

Something…was off, from the way she said it.

Something in the way she avoided eye contact, the way her voice raised in register slightly, the way there was a minor tremor in her tone.

You chalked it up to just having fought with Kylo but…that sounded like a lie.

And as if she had telepathic powers, Rey met your eyes, and you could see there was worry there, anxiety.

Why would she lie?

“Listen Rey, we’re sorry that it all came out like this, but maybe this is for the better.” You said, not really paying attention to the words you were saying, much more interested in reading her face, scouring her gaze for any hint, any offering, any clue as to what was going on in her head. Your mouth was on autopilot while you scanned her, took in everything to account, from her posture to her breathing, “Now you can focus on your coursework and not worry about running forty-blocks worth of the city.”

“(Y/N), if you didn’t scare the shit out of me so much, I’d really hate you right now.” Rey said.

That at the very least was truthful.

“I know.” You replied, not smiling, not even giving a fake one. Kylo looked at you hard, and he could tell that you knew something was up. “You can hate me all you’d like, but we’re still pulling you from Midtown.” You said.

“I think we’d better leave.” Kylo interjected, before anyone had a chance to say anything else.

You nodded in agreement, and smoothed your hair down. It had been a roller-coaster of twenty-four fucking hours, that was for sure.

You took Kylo’s hand and simply walked out of the kitchen, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone.

“Oh so you’re not even going to stay for lunch? After all that?” Leia was incredulous, following the two of you out into the parking lot.

What timing, you thought, as Luke was just parking his car next to yours.

“No, I don’t really think that’s a very good idea.” You said, giving her a falsely apologetic glare that she saw right through. “You guys enjoy, we’ll see you soon.” You lied, only nodding in passing to Luke who was visibly confused as to the presence of you and Kylo – or rather, more like your departure.

Dopheld must have had a sixth sense, because he had already started up the car and warmed the seats, ready for you and Kylo to sit comfortably in the back.

When the house and the neighborhood were firmly far enough away for Kylo to release a breath, you tried to lighten up the mood.

“Well that went about as well as it was going to.” You gave a sad smile, heart breaking for him, for how his relationship with his family was so damaged, had only grown more and more damaged over the years.

“It could have been worse.” He shrugged, jaw set, even as he lit up a cigarette and sucked down the nicotine anxiously, opened the window just a crack so that he could blow the smoke away.

“How?” You asked, and he swiped his thumb across his face, wiping away a trickle of blood that had oozed out from a sliver thin slice Rey had managed to nick into his cheek.

“She could have cut my face up again.” He said, making you both smile.

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

Tagging some mob loving pals! As always, if you’d like to be on the list or taken off, please just let me know <3  @adamsnackdriver​ @dreamboatdriver​ @kyloxfem​ @heldcaptivebychaos​ @kylo-renne​ @callmehopeless​ @solotriplets​ @formerly-anonhamster​ @lookinsidemyhead​ @candycanes19​ @adamsnacc-kler​ @the-wayward-rose​ @taylovren-types​  magikevalynn  tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov​  romancedeldiablo @elfieboxcat (I’m sorry my dear it won’t let me tag you!)

[sariastrategos]

“People are staring” Lambert muttered, dropping his shoulders and curling in on himself. He was gently hoisted up by the arm he had linked with Jaskier.

“Of course they are darling, we’re gorgeous.” He replied, staring straight ahead, apparently paying no mind to the turning heads.

“Jaskier-“

“Lambert.”

This was a terrible idea. The singular worst idea he’d ever had.

“They’re not staring because we look good, Jaskier”

“Whatever gives you that impression?”

“Gee, I dunno, could be the confused fucking looks they’re throwing at us. Or maybe the muttering right after? How about the snickers?” He replied darkly, hunching back in on himself at the disgusted looks an older couple had openly plastered on their faces “what the fuck are you looking at you wrinkly old farts? Never seen a man in a fucking dress before? Get the fuck outta here!” He snarled.

Jaskier places a hand on his upper arm and hauled him back on course. “Calm down, dear.”

Easy for him to say. Walking without a care in the world despite his minty green, flouncy dress, coral kitten heels and matching purse. Man was wearing a choker and pink lip gloss for fucks sake.

He’d been feeling more confident lately, mostly thanks to Jaskier and his brothers’ support. They never flinched when he came out all done up after three hours of Jaskier’s meticulous attention. Didn’t blink when he wore leggings and a loose top or lounged around in skirt.

Well, besides telling him to close his damn legs, they didn’t need to see his balls airing out.

But yeah, aside from that the only comment they made was to tell him he looked nice, the colour suited him, his legs looked great in that outfit, etc. Nothing but supportive, even if they teased him. If anything the teasing helped, made everything feel normal. So yeah, he’d been feeling confident. Comfortable in his own skin, even.

He mentioned to Jaskier as he practiced his makeup that he kind of felt good enough to maybe leave the house. In his makeup. And a dress. Maybe some cute heels.

Jaskier had leapt on the idea. Gushed about how pretty they’d look, walking down the street in the spring sunshine. He wasn’t shy about anything, he and Geralt went out all the time with him dressed up. Even if he was just wearing makeup he didn’t care and neither had Geralt.

So they’d decided on a small outing. Nothing big, no malls or clubs or anything, just...out for ice cream and maybe a stroll through the park. Nothing too far from the house.

Jaskier’s enthusiasm had certainly been a deciding factor in this little outing but he wasn’t feeling as confident now. He knew he wasn’t getting as many looks as he thought, not even a quarter of the people on the street spared them a glance but he felt every. Single. One.

It was the last straw when a group of fucking frat fucks openly stared and laughed.

“I can’t do this. Let’s go back, those little shits are actually laughing in our faces.”

“Do you know them?” Jaskier asked, looking at him quizzically, completely ignoring the bastards with a death wish on the bench they were passing.

“No, the fuck? Should I know them?”

“No.” Jaskier said simply, turning and looking straight ahead again, chin tipped back and head held high “they’re not worth knowing.” He continued, tugged their linked arms to get his feet moving again when he tried to stop and turn around. “And if they aren’t worth knowing, their opinions aren’t worth your consideration.”

He let himself be tugged along as he considered this thought. Compelling argument but it didn’t stop the curl of shame and fear that twisted his guts when one of them wolf whistled and the others laughed.

The growls he heard rumble behind him startled him. He looked behind, catching Jaskier’s grin on the way, to see both Geralt and Eskel glaring daggers at the boys. Every line of their posture was menacing, from the snarls on their faces to the wide set of their feet. The boys on the bench, so brave a moment ago when they were jeering, fell silent and stared, wide eyed, at the two enormous men.

“It is helpful to have twin mountains of muscle ready to tear out throats with their teeth walking behind you.” Jaskier said, throwing a fond look and sly grin behind them. “I’ve thought several times that they should rent themselves out as escorts for this very purpose.”

They watched as Eskel and Geralt took two menacing steps in the boys’ direction and they went tripping over each other to bolt the other way. It was satisfying to see them run, comforting to know he had their support but also depressing that he’d not been the one to scare them off himself.

He suddenly felt ridiculous, all trussed up in a purple wrap dress, meticulously applied makeup and a wig Jaskier had picked up somewhere. Jaskier had offered him some contrasting yellow heels but they were a little too bright for his confidence level and he’d settled on a black pair instead.

He looked alright, his silhouette was a fuckin mess without the proper padding or a clincher but he thought he looked at least a little nice before he left. His makeup was fucking flawless.

He’d shaved off his goatee for this.

But all it took was some awkward looks and mocking from some little shits who’d barely come out of puberty and every ounce of his good mood had been fucking shattered. Everywhere. He was walking on the debris of his budding comfort with his super cute shoes. He could see the purple nail polish from his pedi through the peep toes of his heels as he crunched down on the remains of his hope.

He hadn’t realized he was spiralling until the arm linked with his tugged him forward and another snaked around his shoulders. Both gave him a light squeeze and he blinked to see the arm around him belonged to Eskel who was giving him a smile.

“Fuck ‘em, Lam, their shit ain’t worth yours.” He gave him another squeeze “you look great, they just don’t know how to handle how confused you made their sexuality.”

He snorted and let himself stand up a little straighter, marveling at the extra inch of height he now had on his older brother. “Yeah, I’m sure they’ll be jacking themselves to thoughts of me tonight”

“I will be” Jaskier commented mildly from his other side, wrapping his free arm around Geralt’s, who was still glaring after the boys. “You’ve got such lovely legs, dear heart, I wish you’d show them off more.”

“Yeah I’ll just throw out all my jeans and fill my drawers with Daisy Dukes and leggings for you.” He rolled his eyes and let himself keep walking, trying to ignore the people around them. They really weren’t that bad, hardly anyone looked their way but it felt like everyone was looking at him. He couldn’t pull this off as well as Jask with his big, bright eyes, long lashes and soft features.

“Don’t tease, darling, it’s cruel” he replied and planted a smooch on his cheek. “Before you fuss, your makeup is fine.” He was grinning from ear to ear, walking like a natural in those shoes, with a practiced sashay to his hips that did wonders to catch the eye. It sure kept catching Geralt’s eye as his skirts swished and his hip bumped his regularly. There was a reason he’d chosen to walk behind them at the start of this after all.

“How do you do it?” He asked “how do you walk like that?”

With a confused look Jaskier watched him for a moment “the same way you do darling, lots of practice and sore feet-“

“No I mean how do you walk like you don’t give a fuck? You don’t feel all the eyes burning into you?”

Jaskier paused and considered his answer “Well that’s just it darling, I don’t give a fuck.” He smiled brightly “their opinions don’t mean a damn thing to me, chances are I probably won’t see any of these people again and if I do we won’t remember each other.” He hugged his arm to him tightly “and what’s more is it’s my life, not theirs. This makes me feel happy and fulfilled and their opinions don’t, so which matters more?”

That took some time to process. They continued to walk and Lambert dimly recognized the warmth of the sun, the conversation flowing around him, the weight of his brother’s arm, as all secondary to his thoughts as he took Jaskier’s words in. He was right, the logic was sound, but it didn’t stop him from curling in on himself whenever he heard people muttering as they passed by. For fuck’s sake they probably weren’t even talking about him but it felt like they were.

He had to restrain himself from lashing out twice before Eskel tightened his arm around him again and leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Remember, confidence is key, little sister”

He almost got whiplash with how fast he snapped his head around to look at him. He’d never called him that before, no matter how much makeup or what skirt he was wearing. His eyes must have been saucers but Eskel just gave him a bolstering grin, the same look he’d give him when he was practicing footwork or frustrated with a brew that wouldn’t turn out. It was comfortingly familiar. “back straight, head up, no more of this self-conscious hunching, it doesn’t suit you”

“It really doesn’t” Geralt chimed in “The Lambert we know is proud, loud and obnoxious. Let that Lambert back out.”

It took a little bit, but eventually he straightened his spine, Vesemir would have killed him to see him slouching like that. A coaxing smile from Jaskier and he tilted his chin up a little more.

“That’s better.” Eskel grinned “the rest of the world can go fuck itself, show them what a fierce bitch you are.”

Lambert gave him a cocky grin that he was actually starting to feel “I am a fierce bitch. Fuck ‘em I am, I’ll claw their fucking eyes out if they don’t like it.”

“That’s the spirit darling! With the right nails, anything is possible!” Jaskier, always a font of support and violence.

“Fuck, thanks Eskel, now they’re fucking feral and it’s your fault” Geralt looked up at the sky like he was praying for strength. Jaskier and Lambert could feed off each other’s destructive energy for hours.

“You’re just jealous you’re nails can’t cut throats”

Jaskier and Lambert ignored them, discussing the merits and drawbacks of stiletto nails.

He still had a long way to go before he’d leave the house in makeup without at least one of them, but he felt good for today.