#it's not like he beat the man bloody on stage he just smacked him and walked away

[danwhobrowses]

WWE Royal Rumble 2023 - Review

It's that time of the year where throwing someone over the top rope is the most difficult thing in the world

Royal Rumble sets the stage for the Road to Wrestlemania, the card looks obvious, but with Vince's returned leering eyes hovering over Trips, what can he pull off?

Spoilers for the Event

Kick-off Kick-off is still kinda pointless, no matches, no fun. Plus Jerry and Booker, you can't get a panel with any Royal Rumble winners huh?

We get clips of Roman on the Tonight Show too, plus a SD recap reacted to by the full Bloodline, Jey took the fall (by telling the truth) which had Roman decide to focus on the night, Sami will be beside Roman all night.

JBL's segment is unneeded, Gabriel Iglesias showing up with an all gold world title was to confirm him being at Wrestlemania. We did have a sequence of the competitors drawing numbers, but it was like stickers on a wall, miss the old tombola.

Main Card

Pat McAfee came back, Cole acted like Steve Austin had shown up. Pat's a good commentator but like, that's what you start with? He almost fell off his chair too.

Men's Royal Rumble Cody Rhodes [30] wins the Men's Royal Rumble (Last eliminating GUNTHER [1]) Interesting but not a bad choice to have Sheamus and GUNTHER renew hostilities at 1 & 2, Miz at 3 though was just to be smacked around until Kofi came in at 4 (liked the Super Mario Tron). Gargano got barely any pop for 5 which was sad. Miz was first to be eliminated due to 25 Beats of the Bodhran, a Gargano superkick and then a Brogue, then Xavier showed up for 6, fake teases of them fighting each other before Kross came in at 7.

See, Kross had a good start there, fighting GUNTHER and Sheamus, he needs physical fights. Gable came in at 8 shooshing everyone, Drew at 9 reminded me how bloody long this ramp is but he Claymored Kross over the rope for the second elimination, we're saving for Brock and Lashley aren't we? Santos Escobar at 10 (in kickoff he was happy with that, dunno why it's the early half) but a mention of Mil Mascaras was funny. Dawkins at 11. Woods and Kofi saved each other by doing Private Party's silly string, but Gunther eliminated Woods and then knocked over Kofi into a chair, his foot was floating over it though.

Out came Brock, eliminating Santos, Dawkins and Gable in succession, squaring off with Gunther until Lashley came out at 13, spearing dudes and eliminating Brock quickly. Brock threw a fit as Corbin came out and got wiped out by Brock. One of my top 3 picks, Rollins at 15, threw in Corbin to eliminate him, Otis at 16, Rey at 17, nice small pop for him still but he didn't come out...Rollins eliminates Lashley, Dom at 18 wearing Rey's mask and ripping it (off camera) as Otis was eliminated. Elias at 19 guitar in hand to hit over GUNTHER, but ate a simul-Claymore/Brogue (why not call it the Double Banger?) before being thrown out. Balor backed up Dom at 20, double intercepts helped eliminate Gargano to no fanfare.

Ugh, Booker T at 21. Pretty shit Spinaroonie before eliminated by GUNTHER (who has been 2v1'd by Sheamus and Drew for a long time, the sores on that man's back), Priest at 22 meant it's a 3 on 1 advantage for JD, 23 is Montez Ford, skins the cat but Chokeslammed out by Priest, wasteful. Edge comes back at 24 so of course JD go one at a time, Priest and Balor eliminated but they come back to save Dom and eliminate Edge, all of these are taking less than a minute. Austin Theory at 25 as Edge fights JD, Rhea attacks so Beth comes out to Spear her. Omos at 26, is Cody 29/30 I wonder? Another GUNTHER standoff but he eats a chokeslam, Braun at 27 to standoff with his old rival and eliminate Omos, 28 is Ricochet to help team up with Braun briefly, GUNTHER eliminated both Drew and Sheamus after Drew attempted to save Sheamus from falling.

Ugh x2, Logan Paul is 29. Still can't change his fucking gear, everyone beats him down, he finally hits a Buckshot without screwing his knee (the lariat was shit), Braun had to save him from falling before Cody returned at 30. It's nice to see him healthy but what's the point of announcing it if he's 30? Eliminates Dom. Logan and Ricochet do a double springboard clothesline to try and highlight reel, Cody eliminates Strowman trying to save Ricochet, Theory eliminates Ricochet. They say final four but I did not see Logan get eliminated, which means he is fucking final four. Cody eliminates Theory after comboing with Rollins, they argue but combine to eliminate GUNTHER, Cody hitting the Pedigree that should've been a storied heel turn. Logan eliminates Rollins, which bites because I feel like Rollins winning could've been the true swerve win, he eats a Cross Rhodes and is eliminated by Cody.

So technically it comes to 1 and 30 (WWE with their first time evers), even though we never truly confirmed that Kofi was eliminated nor did Rey Mysterio get eliminated. The ending was more than textbook after that, GUNTHER using chops and his power but Cody trying to pull babyface fire. Cody cutter only puts GUNTHER on the apron, he uses Shattered Dreams, but then eats a Powerbomb, he hits a Cross Rhodes then eliminates GUNTHER.

*sigh* It of course had to be Cody didn't it? This was an okay Rumble, no love for NXT, no real shock value, no Zayn, no forbidden door, many lasting less than a minute and they keep trying to make Logan Paul a thing. Also technically, since Cody then jumps over the top rope to leave, Rey Mysterio should've won the Rumble just sayin. Big praise for GUNTHER, besting Rey's rumble time record though Rey keeps his record for longest time and winning, but he was sadly never gonna win it, I feel like we're gonna do Rollins/Logan for the mania paycheck which saddens me though, which really means we spent an hour to essentially set up Seth/Logan and more Edge/JD, the rest is all stuff we expected or was already active.

Mountain Dew Pitch Black Match Bray Wyatt def LA Knight (Pinfall via Sister Abigail) Having no expectations for this match could've worked in or out of its favour, it was a kinda 'wait to see how it played out. Bray seems to have borrowed Ronda Rousey's make up artist for the overdone mascara job XD Pitch Black was more Neon Lights match with skeletal neon paint, neon confetti and a neon kendo stick.

It was practically a squash, Knight hit a flying clothesline into the announcer's table and hit Bray with a Kendo stick but that was about it, a practically worthless match whose aesthetic was wrong for the match name. The neon lights do look cool but it doesn't match the theme, we could've used this somewhere else and not slapped Mountain Dew's name on it. Post-match Bray put on a new mask and chased Knight out to the backstage, no-selling Kendo shots and hitting the Mandible Claw, Uncle Howdy showed up and did a flying senton to Knight onto pyrotechnics while four other minions in masks (Firefly Funhouse masks) watched above like muppets.

Wrestlemania trailer after that, no reenacting hollywood scenes though like WM21 so -5 points.

Raw Women's Championship Bianca Belair (c) def. Alexa Bliss (Pinfall via KOD) Michelle McCool (Mrs Undertaker shown in a match with potential Uncle Howdy implications?) was ringside for the only women's championship match of the night. The affair was to and fro, there was barely any pop from Bliss hitting her DDT for 2 though. After attempting the Mandible Claw and Sister Abigail, she was lifted to a KOD and that was it.

Sadly it was tough to get into this match because it felt like such a foregone conclusion, the intrigue wasn't even centered around the women themselves. Post match there was evil Alexa clips with Uncle Howdy and a playground spliced in there.

Elimination Chamber trailer, I wonder what it would be for though? For the women I'd guess it's for the other titleholder but for the men are we splitting the belts? Making it a triple threat? Or using it to the midcard titles?

Women's Royal Rumble Rhea Ripley [1] wins the Women's Royal Rumble (Last Eliminating Liv Morgan [2]) Rhea started also nursing the spear from early, coming up against her former partner Liv Morgan - who wanted to be first, why couldn't we have swapped the numbers? They both got entrances. No. 3 is Dana Brooke, 4 was Emma who got all of the competitors to team on Rhea. No. 5 was Baszler, left high and dry after Ronda backed out, Bayley at 6 narrowly evaded elimination after eating ObLIVion. B-Fab at 7 meant more Top Dolla botch references, first to be eliminated by Rhea not without being busted open. NXT Women's Champion Roxanne Perez reps NXT at 8, Dakota Kai at 9, Iyo Sky at 10 completing Damage CTRL, who eliminated Dana Brooke, Emma and Roxanne. Natalya at 11 went for Baszler, Candice at 12 had no pop. Damage CTRL feigned allying with Shayna to eliminate her and Natalya before Zoey Stark came out for 13. Xia Li came out at 14, dumbly letting go of the staff she carried after the ref stupidly tried to prevent her from bringing it into a no DQ battle royal. Candice eliminated by Iyo's blindside before Becky came out at 15, using similar gear to the one she wore during her first rumble.

Becky brawled with Damage CTRL having not been eliminated but outside the ring, before being thrown into the Announcer's Table. Tegan Nox was next, followed by Asuka with a huge pop, a huge pop erupted for 17, that's not Asuka: that's KANA! Sadly though she eliminated Tegan, now de-Droudropped Piper Niven made a return at 18, Tamina at 19 to stare her down, Becky came back to rage at Damage CTRL before Chelsea returned at 20 (not a surprise, Cole)...and eliminated by Rhea, Becky eliminates Dakota and Iyo, but Bayley eliminated Becky, then Liv eliminated Bayley meaning Damage CTRL contintued to brawl with Becky to backstage. Zelina came in Street Fighter Gear, announcing that she'll be a commentator in the new game, she had a little street fighter moment fighting Xia Li on the apron, kicking Li out, Raquel Rodriguez at 22, Mia Yim at 23 still trying to make Michin a thing, Lacey at 24, McCool at 25 from the crowd landing the Faithbreaker (Styles Clash) and eliminating Tamina, Indi Hartwell at 26 reminding me that Dexter Lumis didn't even show up tonight, Sonya Deville at 27 eliminating Zoey Stark, Lacey used the Cobra Clutch to eliminate Zelina, Shotzi at 28, Sonya eliminates Indi to nothing, Nikki Cross charges into the ring at 29.

A botch for 30 seemed almost poetic since it was Nia Jax's return, her music hit 7 seconds early and barely got a pop. Everyone ganged up on her, Rhea couldn't do the powerslam but hit a Riptide before everyone eliminated her. Raquel eliminated Lacey, KANA on the apron eliminated Sonya, Ripley eliminated McCool, Mia eliminated Shotzi, Piper eliminated Mia, Raquel booted Piper out but was eliminated by Rhea, Liv eliminated Nikki for the final 3. It's worth noting that Liv and Rhea broke their record for Sasha Banks erasure, but all 3 ended up on the apron, Rhea dodged the mist which Liv was hit by, and used a 619 to sweep KANA off, a blinded Liv left Rhea dangling with a Codebreaker but Rhea won with a headscissors.

I think that was better than the men's, another unsurprising winner but the final 3 made it that it wasn't a foregone conclusion, KANA and Liv could've easily won it too, unlike Cody we built to Rhea earning the spot. Still, Nia at 30 was meh and we did shorthand the likes of Tegan and Roxanne plus we buried Chelsea Green's third debut for the company, while also not really developing more on Becky vs Damage CTRL, since KANA didn't really affect the 3v1 situation, but the match felt more tight-knit. We redebuted Piper Niven properly and the right person won.

Undisputed WWE Championship Roman Reigns (c) [w/ Sami Zayn & Paul Heyman] def. Kevin Owens (Pinfall via Spear) We return to yesteryear with two men once again facing each other, only this time there's not a botch with the handcuffs we never really followed up on. With nearly 30 minutes left on the clock when the bell rang and chants of 'Sami Uso' rang in the arena there was the air that things will get down to business.

Kevin Dunn was at it with the wild camera cuts like he's jimmying a combination lock, Cole also making sure to use a quiet voice on calling Reigns' uranage a Rock Bottom. Owens controlled much of the early stages of the match though, including two Frog Splashes one to the floor and one in the ring but only a 2 count, he did kick out of a Superman Punch too, there was an unfortunate botch where he slipped attempting a pop-up Moonsault (he lost his footing on the twist) but they repeated the spot for Reigns to dodge again and Spear him for 2.

After pushing KO away from a Stunner attempt, we had our deflating ref bump so Owens could get the visual pin via Pop-up Powerbomb, Reigns then low blows Owens and tells Zayn to get a chair, Sami's hesitation nearly cost Reigns as he ran into a Stunner for 2, Reigns gets his own 2 by hitting the Superman Punch and the Spear in succession, Owens and Zayn then talk outside, Zayn imploring Owens to stay down as Reigns then spears him through the barricade, then a pretty gnarly steel steps spot twice. Hesitation again from Zayn as he raised his 1, but Owens' last attempt to fight back led to a Spear for 3.

The Bloodline appear post-match, Roman stops Jey from putting the lei on him as the Usos hit a 1-D on Owens and set him up for a Pillmanizing hip attack from Sikoa. Out come handcuffs to set up defenseless Superkicks, as Sami squirms at the abuse. As Reigns prepared a chair shot, Sami gets in the way, begging Reigns to stop and it's beneath him, so Reigns gives Zayn the chair reminding him that they're family. Further hesitation though prompts Reigns to get in Sami's face, so Sami winds up, and hits Reigns in the back instead. Jimmy superkicks Sami as he apologizes to Jey, Jimmy and Sikoa then beat Sami down but Jey refuses, so Reigns rains chair blows over Sami and leave.

It's hard one to call because like the women's title match the result felt like a foregone conclusion, but the main drama revolved around another character. Unlike the women's match though, Sami was in more direct involvement to the match and Owens put up more of a fight. Honestly I feel that the post-match segment went a bit too long, but it was perhaps the best thing on the show, Sami turning on Roman was well executed, even though they followed it up with a beatdown on him. I do worry though, because this feels more like Sami will fight Roman at Elimination Chamber, lose the match due to Jey interference and then him and Owens will win the tag titles, which I maintain is still a downgrade compared to giving Sami a chance at the main event of Wrestlemania, you heard the pop, it was louder than what Cody got, but I do fear that WWE will once again opt for the salesman rather than the storyteller.

Conclusion Overall it was an alright Rumble, the Pitch Black and Women's title match were low spots and the respective rumbles could've been executed better with making it seem like the most predictable option may not in fact win.

But it was fine, the predictable winners aren't bad shouts and we developed on the key storylines, we'll see how it builds to wrestlemania

Congrats again to Rhea Ripley and Cody Rhodes Rey Mysterio.

[bioethicists]

maybe i'm taking this too deep or too literally but i find it very sad and ironic that in an industry that is currently dominated by multi-million dollar spectacles of violence-for-entertainment (bankrolled by the us military, the most prolific murderers in the world), will smith is being condemned for smacking a man in defense of his wife- even though that man was clearly not seriously injured and the smack in question served its purpose: will smith drew a clear boundary that i doubt another comedian will cross again.

there's a false boundary between the violence of words (misogynoir and its impacts) and the violence of actions even when jada smith likely felt that joke harder than will smith could ever slap a man. it's ridiculous that an industry whose backbone is monetized displays of violence-for-entertainment cannot cope with a lukewarm slap (or, more accurately, violence is fun when it's blowing up 'terrorists' on screen but disgusting when it's a black man protecting his black wife's respect and emotional wellbeing and refusing to let her be the next twitter hashtag)

[qhazomb]

BACK TO THIS POST, and some of the major things that would play out differently if the events of HLVRAI eventually happened in the THINGVRAI setting:

benrey wouldn’t follow gordon into the test chamber (but would still use the passport thing to follow him a good bit as a thinly veiled excuse to chat up his boyfriend s’more before work :3c)

rescas still happens, as it didn’t matter how fast or slow gordon pushed the crystal into the laser. shit was always gonna hit the fan.

once gordon, benrey, bubby, tommy, and coomer all gather up, they’re at first gonna make a plan to head to the surface to leave, but then “Oh no, wait! Darnold! He- he’s down in Mixology!” so then they change the plan to head down there to grab darnold and THEN escape.

benrey assimilates a xen alien and is very briefly able to pick up that Something Weird is going on in their brains. like something that wasn’t supposed to be there. couldn’t get a better feel of it before it quickly faded, once he’d fully absorbed the other alien’s brain.

benrey gets cut in half by the door, and now has to find an alternate route to get his other half that was separated from the rest of him and the team back to them. he’s no longer concerned about outing himself as an alien in black mesa cause lol those bastards got way more pressing concerns at the moment. and also might not ever recover from this localized apocalypse that’s tearing the facility apart.

no skeletons freaking gordon and the others (but mostly gordon) out this time.

benrey gets his biomass back together when they reach the elevator (where benrey showed up after his first ‘respawn’ in canon)

benrey doesn’t get separated from the group again after that.

bubby and benrey don’t help stage the ambush for gordon. bubby doesn’t because him and gordon have known each other a good while by this point, and bubby considers him a friend, and like hell he’s gonna hand over a friend to those bootboy bastards. benrey is very well acquainted with the human body and all it’s strengths and limitations and also gordon is his fucking boyfriend and the first other sapient that was ever nice to him even after finding out what he really is, he’s not gonna hurt gordon, hell no.

gordon still gets ambushed, as he still needed to hit up that med station in the room. only this time after the lights go out, the soldiers only manage to go as far as knocking gordon to the ground before one of them lets out a blood curdling scream that quickly becomes muffled by horrible flesh tearing and meaty squelching sounds. other soldier kicks the lights back on to see his buddy getting engulfed and merged into some fucked up bloody mass of flesh and teeth and insectoid limbs. and eyes. lots of very angry eyes that are glaring daggers right at him. before the remaining soldier can try to shoot though, tommy nails him with a well-placed bullet, now that the lights are on again.

benrey learns from the memories of the bootboy he ate that they wanted some data storage from gordon’s HEV suit, that’s apparently stored in the right gauntlet, and they were planning on cutting his fucking arm off to get at it. major fucked up, bro. benrey temp assumes the soldier snack’s form, and is able to send a fake message that, while they caught freeman, the data storage was too damaged to recover, and that manages to get the bootboys off their backs. well, to a degree. the rest of the soldiers there are still gonna try and kill them along with every other living person left in the facility. but hey, at least they’re not specifically chasing down the science team, now.

they get to mixology and are glad to see darnold is okay (and also find out he had no idea what the hell was going on). their plan WAS to then try and go home after this, but by this point they’d been urged by so many other scientists and guards to get to the lambda lab, as they need help trying to stop all this.

darnold actually comes with this time! still doesn’t fight, though. benrey takes advantage of the extra biomass he’d gained and splits off an extra body guard for potion bro.

darnold also doesn’t go with them to xen. benrey’s extra body stays with darnold, and is able to keep darnold informed on what’s going down on the science team’s side of things as they happen.

benrey isn’t the ‘final boss’ this time, and the team actually get to see the nihilanth. which they’re not entirely sure how to deal with. benrey gets an idea though.

benrey launches himself at the nihilanth and manages to get a good couple of stings in, injecting it with clusters of his own cells. he gets smacked, hard, and then just lets the rest of his biomass lay there playing dead because owwwwwwwwwwwww. after that, the rest of the team are basically just having to ‘survive the clock’ while benrey’s cells make b-lines for the nihilanth’s most vital organs and start assimilating them. after he’s successfully replaced the nihilanth’s organs with himself, he just. stops doing organ things. no more beating heart, or breathing lungs, none of that. obviously this kills the nihilanth. not the most showy or climactic victory, but gordon doesn’t give a shit, he’s just happy they’re all fucking still alive.

i want whether mr. coolatta is actually human or not to be really vague, so no obvious alien power displays. thus tommy’s dad isn’t the one who gets them back out of xen. benrey is! he managed to pick up that portal creating ability from the nihilanth, and he opens up the way back home for everybody.

they don’t end up at chuck e cheese once they cross over, though. instead, they’re out in the desert by the roadside, a ways away from (what’s left of) the facility. darnold and benrey’s other body are waiting there... along with tommy’s dad, the three of them waiting in a big black van. mr. coolatta showed up and lead darnold and benrey up and out of the facility, and then drove them out there... where he somehow knew benrey would open up a portal from xen to get the rest of him and the science team back to earth.

“dude, tommy, there is no way your dad’s human. like for real, that guy seems even less human than ME.” “Right!? FINALLY someone agrees with me!” “I don- I don’t know what you and Mr. Freeman are talking about, Ben. My dad- he’s just a guy!”

the science team are all given nice fat hush money checks to keep quiet about all the shit that went down at black mesa. and benrey.... is allowed to continue on as he was. mr. coolatta will make no reports of his non-human status to his... employers... out of respect and thankfulness for helping stop all that business with the nihilanth, and keeping his son safe.

...mr. coolatta does make one vague comment about the antarctic outpost incident, though. a vague and very slightly threatening sounding comment.

benrey, uh, assures him he’s... chill. like, totally. cool as a fuckin’ ‘cuke over here, man.

the science team all decide that quitting working for black mesa and moving out of new mexico sounds like a great idea.

[losille2000]

The Swan, Chapter 6

TITLE: The Swan CHAPTER NUMBER: 6/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 WHICH Tom/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: Sequel to The Ugly Duckling. Astrid embarks on a two-week trip to London to serve as her sister’s maid of honor, hoping against all hope she might miraculously run into her Hawaiian mystery man. When her sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law drag her to a production of Hamlet to meet the groom’s best man, Astrid gets the shock of her life. The situation, though, is anything but perfect. RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS: None in this chapter. AUTHORS NOTES: So... what can I say? It's been a while. If you want the whole story, you can look through my blog or message me. I'm happy to answer. That said, it's been a good three years since I did any serious writing. My writing muscles need to build back up to what they were before. Please be kind... and let me know what you think. :D

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - ALSO ON AO3!

Chapter 6 - Flying the Coop

Regret.

Astrid regretted ever stomping up those stairs to Tom’s bedroom. She regretted challenging him to make a move. She regretted letting him have his way with her. In the moment, it seemed right. Maybe if they slept together again, they’d find an incompatibility, especially now that the air of tropical mystery had dissipated and left in its place two broken flesh-and-blood people.

How wrong could she have been?

Now it was amplified, deeper, hotter, engulfing.

Only two weeks for whatever this fire was to fizzle?

It wasn’t, as the Brits say, bloody likely.

And here she was, smack dab in the position she didn’t want to be in; no matter how tangentially her current association with her mother, the family business, and Hollywood was, being connected to Tom in this way presented too many problems to even consider at this point. And fucking him—

“Astrid, are you even listening to me?”

Astrid jumped from the intrusion, letting out a slight squeak. She blinked hard and turned in her spot to look at her sister, who stood in the middle of the furnished but unoccupied flat. “Sorry?”

“Are you okay?” Tilde asked. “You’ve been spacey after the dress shop— and I’m just worried.”

“You don’t need to worry.”

“Let me worry,” she begged. “Let me be the big sister I never got to be.”

Astrid laughed ruefully. If only she could actually talk with Tilde about Tom. She wouldn’t understand, or at the very least, it could pose some very difficult situations in the coming days with the wedding right around the corner. But, Astrid guessed, Tilde meant the other elephant in the room... Astrid being the elephant, and their mother being a Class A narcissist. Because there was absolutely no way Tilde would know about what had happened at Tom’s home...

“It’s too late for that, Tilde,” Astrid said. “You know I love you. I just— there’s no changing her.”

Tilde grumbled and glided over to the couch in the living room. She dropped down on top of the cushions, barely displacing the pillow stuffing with her slight ballet-formed frame. “I should have never allowed her to do all this. I should have done it on my own, it’s not like Jim and I are so hard up. But I thought...”

Astrid held up a hand to stop her sister and sat on the couch more gingerly than Tilde, measuredly, so as not to displace any stuffing in the overstuffed couch, either. Something her mother had taught her, after all: If you’re not going to put in effort to look like a lady, you can at least act like one.

God, even that memory still hurt, down to the marrow in her bones.

“But you did.” Astrid shrugged and laid her head on the back of the couch. There, she sighed.

The sisters sat in silence for some time, listening to Duchess rooting around the flat for something to chew on. When the pug found nothing, she eventually jumped up onto the couch and snuggled into Tilde’s lap.

Astrid cleared her throat. “It’s not all Mom, either. I’m just tired from jet lag and getting everything together for the house party.”

And sleeping with the Best Man. She was pretty sure she’d read a romance novel or a hundred about this situation once. Did that make her a cliché?

“Oh, I meant to ask,” Tilde interjected. “How did that go? Tom was a total tool last night and I was worried about today.”

Astrid licked her lips subconsciously; she could still taste the sugar left by a bite of tiramisu Tom had given to her on a fork. If she concentrated hard enough, she was sure she could still taste the salt of his skin mixed in with it. She could certainly feel the tight muscle in her thigh that pulled every time she shifted, from the way he’d bent it and held it firmly in place as he’d had his way with her.

Frankly, it was a miracle they’d accomplished anything after they ended up in bed. But, she supposed, that was the weirdest part about the whole afternoon. They got out of bed, dressed without speaking and just... worked on what they needed to for the party. There was no discussion. No arguing. Tom stayed a respectable distance from her; she wasn’t sure if she had really wanted him to do it again, over and over, until they were both exhausted. They ate lunch quietly, they got everything organized and packed into his Land Rover, then Tilde showed up and they bade farewell, like it was something they did every day.

Nothing more was said about Hawaii, or a relationship, or lies, or having this end in two weeks. He seemed to be ignoring the topics all together, likely in the misguided belief that if he didn’t bring it up, then everything was fine. She ignored them because discussing WHY she refused to become a true part of his life was too painful.

Astrid pursed her lips and closed her eyes again. Isn’t that what she told him she wanted, though? To feel worshipped and then go about their lives, like nothing happened? Ignore all the elephants and enjoy the sex. No emotion, only sex. He was just following her demands, his need too great to put the brakes on their interlude in his bed.

The problem was that she did want more with him. She wanted emotion and relationships and rainbows and butterflies. When she had thought of him as some wealthy businessman she might once again bump into while visiting London, this had been possible. She had, after all, imagined a reality over the last eighteen months that included falling in love with him and living a life together.

But he wasn’t a businessman. He was an actor. He ran in circles she just couldn’t stomach anymore.

“It was fine. We finished everything and packed it all into his Land Rover for the drive up to Cliveden,” Astrid finally said. “The costume deliveries will be there when we arrive.”

“This really has gotten out of control,” Tilde said. “Part of me just wants to run to the register office and get it over with.”

Astrid shook her head violently. “You do that, and I’ll flip the fuck out. I put too much work into this.”

Tilde laughed. “Scared you, huh?”

“I’m serious, Tilde,” Astrid said, lightly smacking her sister’s thigh. Duchess popped her head up, and thinking it was an invitation for her, came over to her aunt. Astrid cuddled the dog close to her chest, breathing in her freshly bathed fur.

“She likes you,” Tilde said.

Astrid kissed Duchess’ head. “Small children and dogs, apparently.”

Tilde chuckled softly before letting out a long sigh. “I bet she would really like it if her Aunt Astrid were around more.”

“Aunt Astrid is a teacher and never has any time,” she replied directly to Duchess. Duchess reached for the hand that had stopped petting her and touched it with her paw. Her imploring buggy pug eyes asked Aunt Astrid for more.

Tilde huffed, but said nothing more for a long time. Then she cleared her throat. “How do you like the flat, anyway?”

“It’s nice,” Astrid confirmed. In fact, it was nicer than “nice.” This flat looked like one of those staged ads in a real estate magazine with lots of recessed lighting, soft gray colors, top-of-the-line furnishings and a ton of space.

“We’re trying to decide if we’ll sell it or keep it as an investment property,” Tilde replied. “It’s kind of a pain in the ass as a rental property, though.”

Astrid nodded. “You could just give it to Dad’s company to manage.”

Not that doing so was a great option, either.

If Astrid saw her mother irregularly, she saw her father even less. After their separation, he spent time in Las Vegas developing a new casino concept and then, when Astrid graduated from UNLV, moved his business operations permanently back to Sweden. Still, though, the relationship with her father was better than it was with her mother, simply by virtue that he was never around and didn’t have an opportunity to find the weaknesses in her armor like her mother. Tilde rarely spoke about either parent, but Astrid was certain their relationship was similar.

Tilde sat up and turned to look at Astrid seriously. “Or you could move into it.”

“Excuse me?” Astrid said, her heart skipping a few beats, from a sudden surge of anxiety and... something else.

“I’m serious, Astrid,” she said. “We don’t see each other enough and I want to spend time with you and make up for all those years we were apart.”

This wasn’t just some passing fancy. Astrid could see that as plain as day on Tilde’s face. Her sister was determined to convince her to move to London. But for what? She had no support system other than Tilde and James... and her career... well, that was back in Las Vegas.

Not that Las Vegas itself was the most amazing place to live and work.

“I’d never see you anyway,” Astrid argued. “You’re always rehearsing, or preparing to rehearse, or performing. And god knows James is going to be busy doing whatever.”

“Yeah, about that...” Tilde said, trailing off quietly. She picked at the dog hair on her sweater for a few seconds, then slowly looked back at Astrid. “I’m retiring at the end of this season.”

“What?!”

Tilde shrugged. “James and I want a family, and if I wait until it’s a ‘good time,’ it’ll never happen because of our schedules. And really, it’s getting harder and harder to come back from injuries and such. I just... I need a long break from being a performing ballerina. I don’t have the fire I once had, the same will to fight for every goddamn role.”

Astrid simply nodded. This was huge news. Ballet was Tilde’s life. She’d been doing it since she was a little girl, had impeccable skill and training and talent for it. The joke was that Tilde had come out of the womb in pointe shoes.

Which wasn’t that far from the truth, really. As soon as their mother could, she’d gotten Tilde into dance with the best instructors money could buy. Their mother, the failed ballerina, always lived through them. Which explained why she did not like anything about Astrid— Astrid did not have anything that would benefit her.

“Have you told Mom yet?” Astrid asked.

Tilde shook her head. “Of course not! And listen to her prattle on about how I’m a failure and she gave me so much and I’m just a terrible person? No, thank you. I’ll wait until she is permanently back in LA before I tell her.”

Even though Tilde had not yet told anyone else, it somehow eased the tension in Astrid’s shoulders knowing that Tilde would be in their mother’s crosshairs for a change. Typically, that wasn’t the case; their parents always treated Tilde like the perfect golden child. Of course, Tilde had always been one of Astrid’s fiercest allies… when she could. However, since Tilde spent most of her life in London studying at the Royal Ballet from a very early age, support and camaraderie had been scarce. Now, though? Now it felt like she and Tilde could weather the storm together.

Tilde continued, “Yeah. I’m thinking about opening up a dance studio and then after the baby thing happens, if I still have the performing bug in me, then I’ll start guesting. But I’m just so excited to start having babies.”

Stopping the smile from forming on Astrid’s lips was impossible as she registered the excitement on Tilde’s face. Astrid felt the enthusiasm coming from Tilde’s corner of the couch. “I’m excited for you, Tilde.”

And she was. She truly was.

Tilde reached out and grabbed Astrid’s hand. “I’m serious, though, Astrid. We never had a great family growing up, and I see this as an opportunity to right the wrongs of the past and create the family we should have had growing up.”

“I don’t know, Til.”

“James and I have both talked about it a lot and we both agree.”

“Tilde, even if I did move here,” Astrid began, “I don’t know the first thing about teaching in England.”

Tilde nodded. “I know. But James’ parents are retired teachers. I’m sure they’d be willing to help you make heads or tails of it.”

Astrid pursed her lips and turned to stare at the dormant fireplace sitting in front of them. Duchess, who had not moved, made happy dog purr noises as Astrid massaged the tiny velvet triangles of her ears. To be fair to Tilde, Astrid had often thought of moving to London to be nearer to her, but she never thought it would happen or that Tilde would actually need or want her here. The fact that she was wanted made emotion spring to her eyes and prick at them until they watered.

But then, there was the other issue.

The really, super, ginormous issue that came in the shape of a devastatingly handsome British man she met on vacation. If she moved to London, she’d certainly be seeing him more. No clean break at the end of two weeks like she hoped.

“And, you know,” Tilde said, “London’s arts scene is stupendous. We have the hook-up. I thought you could get back into it. You can hardly do that in Las Vegas.”

Astrid snorted. “Tilde, that part of my life is over.”

“Why? You’re amazing. I remember the video you sent of your college production of Othello. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”

While Tilde’s appreciation for her talent warmed Astrid’s heart, it didn’t take away the sting of her mother’s actions. Astrid couldn’t even bring herself to discuss it with Tilde when it first happened, much less in the intervening eight years since the incidents that led to her total disavowal of all things acting related. Her silence on the matter, though, had finally come home to roost. First with Tilde telling Tom she was still an actor, and Tom calling her a liar because she told him she wanted nothing to do with it. And now, with Tilde staring her down imploringly. Tilde wanted answers just as much as Tom did, except for very different reasons.

Astrid could not force her suddenly leaden tongue to move in her mouth. Tilde would just have to live with not knowing the whole story, for now. Finally, she said, “If I move to London, I’m not going to be acting.”

“Well, I guess I’ll take that,” Tilde replied. “As long as you’ll still consider moving here to be with me.”

A knock at the front door startled them all, sending Duchess barking and wheezing to the door. The door opened and James popped his head inside. “Knock knock.”

“Come in!” Tilde sang back to him, jumped from her seat, and nearly leaped over the back of the couch to get to him like he was a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him squarely. For a brief, possibly irrational, moment, Astrid was jealous of her sister and the relationship she had built with James.

Which wasn’t a great feeling to have if the plan was to spend more time with them. How could she uproot her entire life— leave her students and friends— and move halfway across the globe just to be consumed by the green-eyed monster?

“Babe,” Tilde said, “tell Astrid she needs to move to London.”

James laughed and turned to look at Astrid. “Astrid… you need to move to London.”

“Thank you!” Tilde pecked his cheek and pirouetted in place until she was facing away from him. She started walking back toward the bedroom. “Let me go get my purse and we can get going.”

When Tilde was gone, and the flat was mostly silent except for more of Duchess’ puggy wheezing as she calmed, James’ smile dropped into a stony seriousness. He stepped over to her and quietly murmured, “We would love to have you here, Astrid. But I understand if you don’t want to come. The decision has to be yours, and if you decide not to move, I will handle Tilde.”

Astrid was grateful for James’ level-headedness in the situation. In the short time she’d known the man, she found that he was a gifted reader of rooms. That was why he was so good with Tilde— a steady anchor in a turbulent sea. Clearly, he understood the anxiety twisting her stomach into knots.

She set a grateful hand on his arm and squeezed appreciatively. “Thanks, James.”

“And don’t let my association with Tom cloud your judgement,” James said.

Astrid withdrew her hand like he’d burned it. Her eyes snapped up to his, then focused outward on the rest of his features and body language. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Tom must have told James, despite that she asked him not to.

Unless Tom had told James last night…

“How do you...” She trailed off, turning her gaze and trying to hide her blush.

“He’s my best man for a reason. We tell each other everything,” James replied. “I had hoped that your work today would allow you some time to figure things out before more of this wedding commenced and caused a problem.”

Astrid gulped. “Does Tilde know?”

James shook his head silently.

“Good,” Astrid replied. Good for two reasons, really. The first, because it confirmed for her that the invitation to come to London wasn’t Tilde playing matchmaker. The second, because she still didn’t want anybody to know about it. “Wait… how much did he tell you?”

James stared back at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a slight curl at the corner of his mouth. “That would be breaking the Code.”

Her face now completely aflame, Astrid bent down and grabbed Duchess into her arms. She couldn’t even look at the man anymore without feeling embarrassed. Hopefully, it would pass quickly.

“Bad news!” Tilde called from the hallway as she came back into the room. Her thumbs moved rapidly over the screen of her iPhone. “Mother decided we needed an all hands on deck dinner tonight.”

Astrid groaned. “In addition to or replacing the one tomorrow night at Cliveden?”

“In addition to,” Tilde said. “Tom can’t make it tonight because he has the cast party, and Dad isn’t even in England yet, so that’ll be the official one. Tonight is probably just more nitpicking.”

“Do we have to?” Astrid whined.

Tilde sighed heavily and dropped her phone into her purse with agitation. “Strength in numbers, dear sister.”

Her sister's proclamation made the summons to dinner no better, but Astrid and James dutifully followed Tilde out of the flat and out to the car. The only saving grace was that Tom wouldn't be there. Astrid could focus on one problem, not two.

[piccolina-mina]

The entire One Chicago franchise is a mess when it comes to the romantic components of the series. But Chicago PD continues to be the most uninspired, boring, and redundant mess when it comes to their romantic ships and how they display them.

It's as if someone holds a gun to their head and says "let's choose the most basic, young, white heteronormative relationships and smack a cutesy name on them. Fandom will eat it up!" And without fail, fandom always does.

It's bad enough that half the Intelligence Unit thinks they can only date or sleep with each other. It's also bad enough that it further contributes to Chicago PD's ongoing issue with rarely knowing what to do with its female characters beyond specific plots I've come to call the "traditionally feminine womanly plots" and tying them in with a male character where everything about them hinges on their connection to a male. And also that "there can only be one" issue where only one of the female characters can serve as the primary one while the others duke it out for screentime, plot, and relevancy (congrats on always winning Lindsay and Hailey).

But they recycle the same things ad nauseum. For eight seasons, they would rather devote all of their time cooking up romantic subplots that exclusively feature a constant rotation of Ruzek and Halstead. I get it, they're attractive, hell, I'm no stranger to thirsting over Ruz myself, but they're the lotharios of the unit as if only they can be desirable, and it's gotten so old. My God.

They would rather give us these two involved with mostly young and white women, especially their squad mates, then devote screentime to literally any alternative couple.

I mean they have SHARED a love interest. Why? The only ships they have ever devoted significant screentime or development to: Halstead and Erin, Halstead and Upton, Ruzek and Burgess, Ruzek and Upton, Burgess and Roman. Qwhite shocking, I know.

Trudy and Mouch have one of the sweetest crossover romances from the franchise, and it's so refreshing to see a middle-aged couple find love, and yet, they've all but cooled off showing them, rarely give that ship screentime, and it tends to stay in the peripheral compared to the big ships.

Dawson had a romance with Brett from Chicago Fire (another character who gets passed around to the point of absurdity), but they did very little with it, and most of THAT even took place on CF.

They gave Dawson something troubling with another law enforcement officer or whatever for like a single episode, but hell, they still devoted more time and actual arcs to the two or three times where they put Halsted in similar relationships because of course they did.

Never forget that the first relationship that dates pre-series was Chicago Fire's Gabby with *spins wheel* you guessed it, Jay Halstead.

And of course there was Erin and Severide. So pretty. So ... basic.

Yet they never attempted to give us more of Dawson and his wife or Olinsky and his. The women were barely characters on the series. It would've been something.

I don't mind Burzek. Out of all the ships, I enjoy them most more often than not, but it has been eight seasons of will they/won't they bullcrap that they've drawn out. All of these ups and downs. The one non-cop related romance Burgess had lasted all of a second and ended in tragedy because heaven forbid they DON'T put that woman through endless pain.

But they've always remained the second place ship of the series, and it's just... enough. Meanwhile, we started the series with Erin and Halstead monopolizing screentime with their romantic situationship drama, and instead of giving it a rest and changing things up when she left, they switched it out with the Halstead and Hailey will they/won't they. Why?

Heaven forbid Halstead or Ruzek don't have a piece of ass.

Ruzek was even Trudy's choice for a relationship ruse to dupe her father.

In the meantime, one of the most outlandish and unrealistic parts of this series is that Kevin Atwater-- young, smart, just as hot as Chicago PD's golden, pretty, white boys hasn't had a real, significant romantic storyline in the eight years this series has been on air.

In what universe does that make sense? Single, eligible, employed, decent black man? Da faq?

Pardon my bluntness but Kevin Atwater should be seeing more ass than a toilet seat. The fact that he isn't batting folks off with a stick is ludicrous.

He had ONE fkd up romantic storyline in his one "very special black Kevin" episode in season SIX and that's it. Pardon me? Do you know how many of those Jay has had? Twice or more than Kevin.

On a series that pairs up colleagues like it's their mission, they never once even considered taking the Burgess and Atwater relationship in any other direction beyond platonic (and even that is underused these days). I'm not even saying I would've wanted that. I'm just pointing out that it made no sense given their track record to not even tease it. But Kevin is only good for platonic purposes, I suppose.

The fact that they put all their eggs in a potential Atwater and Rojas ship, that never even came to fruition, in season SEVEN of a series Atwater has been in since the beginning when characters like Adam and Jay have already had two relationships or more under their belts by then is ridiculous.

And then there's Voight. He's the lead character and never once had a romantic storyline. If he were younger, you already know they would've went there a few times over.

Yet the closest Hank has come to one is an ambiguous scene with him talking to a sex worker in a hotel room back in, like, season two. Are we to believe that he has never once developed feelings for or even had sex with anyone else since his wife died? He's never moved on after that?

They could easily allude to him being on an ace or demi spectrum if they want, even if I would side eye them for choosing the older character to do it, but if that's the case, they should do something with that.

Even a storyline with a widowed, middle- aged hardass finding love or getting some would be infinitely more interesting and at the very least something different than the same old same old Ruzek & Halstead merry-go-round. Damn, the 50 and over crowd need love too.

And yet Chicago PD keeps feeding us the same bland diet repackaged.

Fine. Burzek has been a thing from the beginning. But after Jay and Erin WHY did they need Hailey and Jay? And if they were going to do Jay and Hailey, why in the mother loving fk did we need Hailey and Adam?

The good sis bagged not one but both of the coveted white boys.

I mean, just for variety, Dawson was right there. Kevin was right there. I wouldn't have been a fan, but hell, it would at least be something different. Much better than acting as if Halstead and Ruzek are the only viable romantic options.

Why subject her to that?

Isn't it bad enough that she's more often than not reduced to being Lindsay Lite anyway? They struggle to give her a presence that deviates and distinguishes her from Erin as is. From her troubled past, and her stage of being mini- Voight and challenging his authority, to this thing with Jay.

Hell, they even repeated a whole job offer thing.

Mind you, don't get me started on how they missed what should've been the obvious chance to make Hailey queer. If I'm stepping on toes, my bad, but everything about Hailey screamed bi or lesbian. She radiated queer energy, but INSTEAD they chose to pair her with not one but both of CPD's romantic male leads.

Why beat this well-tread path yet again?

Of all the possibilities, and all the different avenues they can explore, they just keep dipping into that same well, and it's so tiresome. It's so unoriginal and uninspired. Yes, it's just so basic. I'm talking 20th century shipping... CPD is so outdated with this and it makes it hard to invest or care about any of them, especially if you already aren't inclined to ship within the series as is.

Shock me. Thrill me. Intrigue me. Bloody hell.

[talkfastromance4]

Beauty behind the Madness--Ashton Irwin (mafia!au)

**copyright listed below

A/N: It’s finally here! This idea was born so many months ago but I never did anything with it until I watched the movie 365 and ideas started to flow. I’ve worked on this for nearly two months, and I’ve never spent so much time on something as big as this before,so thank you for your patience! I would like to give enormous ‘thank you’s to @sexgodashton and @sadistmichael for beta reading, editing and giving feedback and other insights when I was stuck (which was many times), to @spicycal @karajaynetoday​ and @cheekysos​ for also beta reading and letting me scream at you about this process. I’m so so grateful for each and every one of you!❤💖 Also, this fic is inspired by The Weeknd’s ‘Beauty behind the Madness’ album and I listened to it a lot while writing. (Drown by Tyler Carter is Ashton and Nadia’s song in my head as well)

Word count: 27.1k

Warnings: mentions of violence involving guns, mentions of blood, casual drinking, swearing, sexual occurrences (female receiving oral, fingering, male receiving oral, consensual sex, slight dom!ashton). Please read with caution

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

Enjoy! :) feedback is always welcomed

• • • •

Ashton sets his drink on the lacquered maple countertop inside La Belle Vie, the ice clinks together in a satisfying finish. He checks the time on his gold embroidered black Rolex; he’s just in time to finish the dirty work his cohort set up. He slips past the bar, half ignoring the woman sitting at the end who stares him down like a hawk and descends the concrete steps to the interrogation room.

He faintly hears a fist connecting to flesh, grunts echo along the walls and his designer boots smacking articulately on the floor. One of his guards opens the door with a grandiose gesture as he undoes his cufflinks. As soon as he enters the room, another associate removes his suit jacket. It’s a rehearsed dance with the next step being Ashton rolling his sleeves up.

In view is his right-hand associate, Calum Hood, dressed down to his black tank top tucked into his Armani trousers. His face is contorted in concentration as he delivers another bloody punch to the man’s face who is tied to a chair. His face is a bloody mess, his shirt torn.

“We got what we needed?” Ashton asks coolly pulling his glock from the holster resting against his left side.

“Yeah,” Calum huffs, shaking his hand and flexing his fingers. “He said something about Nadia, though.”

Ashton’s hazel eyes flash in anger, he clicks the safety off his gun, and the man groans before him.

“What did you say?” Ashton demands as he shifts places with Calum who is handed a towel from Luke. The man mutters something under his breath. “Speak up, it’s hard to hear you through your own blood.”

“What does it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway, no?”

Ashton presses the end of the gun to his cheek, pressing hard so it turns his head back. The man’s green eyes are vibrant against his blood, and Ashton can see the fear in them.

“Tell. Me,” Ashton says fiercely.

“You better keep your bitch on a leash, or the Snatchers will catch her,” the man cackles manically.

Ashton snaps his wrist swiftly and pulls the trigger, right in the center of the man’s forehead. His body jerks and slumps in the chair, the sound of the gunfire echoing in the small room. He glances at Calum, his jaw working in anger at the man’s last words.

“Clean up down here, gentleman, then join me for a drink,” Ashton says, slipping his glock back in the holster. After a kill, his body is always electric and warm, so he holds his arm out to the associate who removed his jacket and they drape it over his forearm.

Calum follows quickly behind him, pulling his dress shirt on as he ascends the stairs. Paco, the bartender, already has his glass refilled along with a new drink for Calum. The woman at the end of the bar reaches for Ashton, her fingers greedy and her eyes crazed.

“You seem tense, can I help?” she asks, batting her fake lashes.

“Sorry doll, he’s a taken man,” Calum intercedes by pushing her hands away. She pouts as the two men walk away.

“Thanks, she had her eyes on me the whole time I was here,” Ashton says pressing his lips to his glass. The amber liquid is refreshingly cold as it slides down his throat.

“I’ve seen her here before, not really sure who she is but she should know who Nadia is.”

The two gentlemen take a seat at their table near the back, far away from everyone else and in perfect sight of the door. The music is loud enough to enjoy as the girls dancing on stage move hypnotically to the beat. Other associates and frequent club members sit in the leather chairs with cigars and drinks in hand as they observe the women.

“That almost worries me, Cal,” Ashton sighs resting his foot on his opposite knee. “I don’t want anyone knowing of Nadia and it seems like everyone does. That puts her in danger.”

“She’s well-guarded at all times, you know that. The bastard was just talking shit to get a last rise from you,” Calum says then smacks his lips after taking a drink.

“What did he say to you?” Ashton watches Calum carefully, his dark brows crease. “Calum, what did he say?”

“He said the Rozhkov’s and the Snatchers love the way she dances.” He glances nervously at his friend, his boss.

Ashton checks his watch again. Nadia should be arriving at the club soon with Vinny; he sent her on a full spa day. She’s been working hard and one of Ashton’s main goals is to make sure she’s well taken care of.

“He was talking shit,” Calum repeats, “No one would dare go after her.”

“How did—” Ashton stops short because the doors open and his eyes meet Nadia’s.

His whole world shifts, all that he’s done, all that he will do, vanishes. Nadia is the light of his life and she shines as she walks her way over to him. Her dark hair falls in perfect waves down her chest, the silver necklace he bought her hangs perfectly between her cleavage. She’s a vision as he rises from his seat, as does Calum, to greet her. It’s respectful to stand whenever a boss’ significant other enters the room, they’re like royalty.

Ashton extends his hand, gaudy rings shining in the lowlight and Nadia’s hand slips inside his.

“Hi angel,” he says softly, giving her a squeeze.

“Hi, honey,” she smiles walking into his arms. She pecks his lips delicately, a feather light touch. “Hi Cal,” she smiles and leans over to kiss his cheek.

“Come sit with me,” Ashton pulls her with him as he sits back in his armchair. She finds her place in his lap comfortably, one arm behind his shoulders. She crosses her tan legs that show beautifully beneath her gold dress. Ashton’s arms hold her close, his fingers locked together on her hip. “How was the spa?”

“Wonderful,” she smiles, rubbing her nose against his. “You didn’t have to do it, you know.”

“I wanted to; you had a rough week.”

“It’s only Tuesday,” she giggles.

“Yeah, and you came home last night all in a tizzy, climbing into my lap in my office—”

Nadia covers his mouth with her hand, silencing him. “Shush!” Her warm brown eyes glide to Calum.

He smiles behind her hand, pulling it away from his mouth to kiss her fingertips.

“I’ve heard way worse, sweetheart, trust me,” Calum chuckles taking a drink. “Can I get you something?”

“Amaretto sour,” Ashton answers for her and she smiles. “Three cherries.”

“Comin’ right up,” Calum winks then moves to the bar.

Ashton sighs, trailing his fingers over her back, staring into her warm brown eyes.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she smiles adjusting one of his chains. Her blood red, almond-shaped nails rub through his chest hair, she follows the trail to his top button of his shirt. She unbuttons it delicately. “There, now you can breathe.”

“One amaretto sour,” Calum says, handing the glass over to Nadia. She takes it with glee, slurping up the drink happily. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Asana in the Gold Room.”

Ashton and Nadia look behind Calum to see Asana waiting by the deep maroon curtains that lead to another set of stairs. Her dark hair is in a high ponytail atop her head, the gold eyeliner and gold lipstick contrast beautifully with her dark skin. It made her appear regal and Nadia was always stunned by her beauty.

The Gold Room is a special room where members of Ashton’s association go to…unwind. Men and women of the association meet there frequently when there’s downtime, like tonight, or after a successful mission. Asana is the head of weaponry; Ashton always gets the best from her and he trusts her with his life.

“See you two later,” Calum winks starting to walk backwards, his eyes on Nadia, “make sure he gets some rest.”

Ashton and Nadia watch Calum approach Asana who gives him a sly smirk as he takes her hand kissing it. As they disappear behind the curtain, the song changes and a cloud of cigar smoke creeps up on Nadia and Ashton. She scrunches her nose at the smell, Ashton kisses it.

“We can take our drinks to my office, angel,” he tells her, knowing she doesn’t like the cigar smoke. It always gives her a headache.

“Aren’t Luke and Michael going to join us, soon?” she asks while plucking one of the cherries from her glass.

Ashton’s momentarily mesmerized by the way her lips pucker around the bright red fruit before it disappears in her mouth. She tosses the stem onto the small table beside his chair then swipes her thumb on her chin collecting the cherry juice and licking it off.

“I think they’ll understand. Come on,” he pats the side of her bare thigh, so she stands.

Their fingers link together as he leads her past the bar to a secret door on the left. Once inside, Nadia clutches onto Ashton’s hand a little tighter, she says the space creeps her out because of the minimal lighting and dark walls. He’ll never tire of her feeling safe with him, that’s all he wants is her love and trust to protect her.

They reach the silver elevator doors; he pushes the button with one of his rings and the doors part open. Her heels scrape against the floor as he pulls her against his chest, her giggles echo the small space, their reflection apparent on every wall.

“Is this that new dress you bought a few weeks ago?” he asks tenderly, eyes roaming over the glittery gold fabric hugging her body perfectly.

“It’s the new dress you bought,” she pokes his nose. “You’ve got to stop spoiling me or people are going to get the wrong idea, honey.”

“What wrong idea is that?”

The doors slide open as they land on the second level, only certain clientele is allowed up here. Nadia is always at the top of the list. Nadia tugs his hand leading him out of the elevator right into his office. The first time she was brought into his office, it made her feel apprehensive, but it was also the first night they met, and it was under dangerous circumstances.

 ***

The rain is falling harshly on the hood of Ashton’s red Aston Martin Superleggera. He's cloaked in the dark of the night as he sits and waits for members of the Rozhkov family to arrive at the abandoned building he’s parked next to. Aleks Rozhkov has scheduled his associates for a pickup of money and parts. Parts that have intrigued Ashton so greatly that he wants to find out exactly what they are.

He’s been here for hours, waiting, watching.

Calum insisted on going with him for added protection, but Ashton declined. He knows the target on his back is large, but his element of surprise is his calling card and this ambush would give him the answers he needs. He sighs glancing at the clock on his dashboard, his thumb rubbing over the silver-winged design on his steering wheel. He always liked how the emblem of his car matched the condor tattoo on his neck, a dangerous pair with the desire to fly.

There’s movement to his left, and he sits up a little straighter then sighs when he sees it’s a civilian. She’s walking through the rain with an umbrella clutched tightly in her fingers, and Ashton notices she keeps looking behind her. Then she stops and three men suddenly surround her; the three men Ashton has been waiting all night for.

When one of them tosses her umbrella to the ground, Ashton springs from his car, running over. He pulls on the arm of the man closest to him before turning him around connecting his fist with his jaw. The other two spring into action, but Ashton is quick with his punches and elbow thrusts. In minutes all three men are down in the rain-filled alley, the woman breathing heavily against the brick building.

Ashton crouches to one of the men who’s grunting in pain and staring at Ashton through a swelling eye. “You tell Aleks, Ashton Irwin doesn’t appreciate him doing his dirty work in my city,” his voice is calm, but the warning tone is loud, “and that cornering a woman is warranted in death. Got that?”

The man groans nodding his head. Ashton stands, his eyes softening as he stares at the woman before him. He can barely see her through the falling rain and the dimmed streetlight, but he can tell she’s frightened, as if he can sense it.

“Are you all right? Did they hurt you?” he asks gently, stepping closer to her. She shakes her head in response. A car backfires and she lets out a scream. Ashton responds by grabbing her hand, “I have somewhere safe I can take you,” pulling her to his car and helping her inside. He cranks the heat as the engine purrs quietly to life, zooming to the main road and to La Belle Vie.

She’s visibly shaking while he drives to his club. He wants to comfort her in some way but is unsure how to. He’s pleasantly surprised she got into his car so willingly, but maybe his coming to her rescue appeased her.

He parks smoothly in his spot outside of La Belle Vie, he can hear her teeth chattering.

“Come inside, it’s warm and I can get you a drink,” he tells her before getting out.

He keeps a safe distance behind her, nodding to one of the guards at the entrance. They open the door just as thunder rumbles in the distance. Ashton and the woman are met with more dimmed lighting, and soulful, tantalizing music dances in their ears while the dancers on stage move hypnotically.

The woman halts as she takes in her surroundings and Ashton bumps into her back.

“Keep moving to the end of the bar, my office is in the back,” he murmurs pushing her forward gently. Ashton eyes their surroundings, the only people taking notice of him are Paco and Luke sitting at the bar. He shakes his head as if to say, ‘don’t ask, don’t stop me,’ and continues his way to the secret door.

He pushes on the wall; the door opens to reveal a dimly lit hallway with cement floors and dark walls. He feels her cower against him once more.

“You need to get brighter lightbulbs,” she mutters, shoulders rattling as she shivers again.

Ashton smiles at her comment but wants to get her warmed up as fast as he can. He leads her to the elevator, pushes the button and the doors open quickly. The elevator ride is short as it ascends to his office, he ushers her inside where he makes sure to turn all the lights on.

“Please, have a seat,” he motions to the plush black couch in front of the fireplace.

He turns it on with the switch beside the mantle, discarding his leather jacket placing it on the back of an armchair. He moves across the room to a closet that has blankets for when he sometimes spends the night here, and there’s a bedroom next to the fireplace. You can see a part of it through the flames if you look close enough. He doesn’t dare let his mind drift to the countless women he’s brought back to that room, suddenly he feels ashamed about those encounters.

He drapes the thick, soft blanket over her shoulders, she jumps from the contact, murmuring a quiet ‘thank you.’ Ashton moves to his desk picking up his phone that immediately rings the bar.

“Sir?” Paco answers.

“Send up some towels, dry clothes and two hot chocolates, please,” Ashton requests then clicks the phone back in its cradle. He sits across from her in the armchair that doesn’t have his coat on it, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asks again. Now that they’re in brighter light, he sees how beautiful she is. Her dark hair hangs in wet strands framing her perfectly round face, her eyes are large and round and the prettiest brown he’s ever seen. Although she’s shivering, everything about her, from her tanned skin to those eyes screams warmth. A warmth Ashton hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Fine,” she responds quietly, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. She sniffs.

“I’m having towels and clean clothes brought up, along with some hot chocolate,” he offers, his fingers twisting one of his rings. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Why did you hurt those men?” she asks the same time he does.

“They were going to hurt you,” he says simply. He notices her eyes are watching the movement of his ring, he glances down noticing the dried blood on his knuckles that clearly has her attention. He frowns slightly. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t think twice about the blood, but he doesn’t want this woman to fear him due to this act. 

“Why were you there? Who’s Aleks Rosco—”

“Rozhkov,” Ashton corrects. He inhales deeply then leans back into the chair making sure to skirt around the truth. “He’s…a businessman that I’ve been wanting to meet with. We have things to discuss.”

“You—”

Three sharp raps to the door cause Ashton to stand and open the door. Luke’s there with the essentials Ashton requested, the towels and clothes in a bag, two hot chocolates in a carrying tray and a question in his baby blue eyes.

“Is she one of Rozhkov’s—”

“Thanks Luke,” Ashton replies shortly, taking the bag and carrying tray.  He shuts the door in the younger man’s face then brings the goods to the beautiful mystery woman on his couch. He places the bag in front of her legs which he’s just noticed are bare beneath her coat. He swallows harshly. “Towels and dry clothes are in here, there’s a shower just through that door you can use to warm up.”

Hesitantly, she lifts the bag, crooking it between her elbow and stands. Ashton moves to the door opening it, smacking the light switch on the wall. It illuminates the room showcasing the large California king bed with high posts and a thick black comforter. Again, he pushes memories of the numerous sexual partners he’s pleasured here, as if his dirty thoughts would offend this beautiful woman. He doesn’t want to offend her in any way, though he fears he already has.

She’s been visibly shaken since the alleyway and won’t look him in the eye choosing instead to keep focus of the blood on his hands. Is she fearful of what she’ll see in his eyes? Madness? A monster? 

Her small sniffle pulls him from his thoughts.

“Use anything you’d like in the bathroom. I’ll be out here if you need me,” he offers a half a smile then turns to give her some privacy. Then he hears her mumble something and quickly turns around. “What?”

“Nadia,” she says again, her brown eyes finally meeting his, “My name’s Nadia.”

***

She walks around his large desk, twisting her arm so she can push him gently into his specially made chair. It’s a black, wing back chair with gold accented buttons and the letters ‘A’ and ‘I’ stitched in gold on the front of the arms.

“What wrong idea?” he asks again, placing his drink on the coaster on his desk. It also has his initials on it.

Nadia shakes her head hopping onto the surface of the desk, her dress slides up her thighs. She takes a long sip of her drink as Ashton rests his palms on her knees, his thumbs rub onto her skin.

“Nadia,” he says her name sternly. He knows she knows that tone of voice, and she looks at him expectantly. “What will people think?” he softens his tone.

“That I’m nothing but a ‘sugar baby,’” she pouts, her fingers create the imaginary quotations.

Ashton sighs. Being in his line of business, doing what he does, he knows that’s what he’s perceived as, but he always waved it off without a care. He didn’t like, however, that Nadia has been labeled as a sugar baby.

“You know that’s not true,” he stands from his chair, towering over her. He removes her drink from her hand, placing it on another coaster then rests his hands on the wood. He stares at her until she meets his gaze. “You know how much I love and care about you.”

“I do,” she nods earnestly. “But I still hear the whispers.”

“Is it from people within my circle? Tell me their names and I’ll deal with them—”

“No, no, it’s no one associated with you. It’s…others. In the streets, in the shops we go to.”

“Don’t listen to them, and if I hear it—” he leans forward pressing his lips to her cheek “—they’ll have me to answer to.” His voice tickles her ear and she giggles from the vibrations.

“Why did Cal say you need rest?” she asks.

“Long day,” he shrugs. He relaxes when Nadia places her thumbs under his eyes, he can only imagine the dark circles beneath them.

“What did you do?” she moves her fingers to his hair, massaging through the dark locks onto his scalp.

“Angel,” he says in a warning tone, “what’s my number one rule?”

“Don’t ask specifics about your job,” she sighs, fingers still massaging.

“And why is that?” he sighs. His hand pushes her legs apart, his fingers run up the smooth skin of her thigh. She spreads her legs wider, welcoming his hand higher.

“To protect me,” she whispers and moans slightly when his fingers skim over her bare, wet folds. He tuts his tongue.

“No panties, hm? Why’s that?” he asks, teasing her slit. “You want to stain my desk?”

“N-no! Just didn’t feel like it…I thought you’d like it,” she sighs against his neck, her breath hot, and fingers still locked in his hair.

“You know I love it, angel.” He teases her hole with his middle finger causing her to squeak in response. He smiles, kissing her shoulder then inserts his finger slowly. Her own fingers tighten in his hair, her breathing becomes ragged. “Should I make you come right here for me? Right on my desk where I do my work?”

Nadia rolls her hips with the motion of his finger inside her, spreading her open and rubbing against her walls.

“Please,” she begs breathlessly.

He inserts another finger and Nadia whines in his ear, his thumb rubbing harshly against her clit. He loves hearing her moan for him. He works his fingers faster until her body clenches and she’s left gasping loudly in his ear.

“That’s my girl,” he praises twiddling his fingers inside her as her orgasm subsides. He removes his fingers gently pulling back to give her a smile while he sucks her off his fingers. Her eyes are glazed, her cheeks a bit rosy. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” she sighs. She drags her fingers back to his cheeks and pulls his mouth to hers, moaning into his mouth. Her fingers are quick to undo his shit buttons, palms pressing to his torso, nails dragging along his skin.

“You want another one?” he smirks against her mouth, her hands tugging his silk shirt from his trousers.

“Like you said,” her voice is sultry in his ear as she unbuttons his pants, “I’ve had a rough week.”

When Nadia’s fingers pinch the zipper, there’s a very loud urgent knock on the door. She lets out a sigh, visibly upset as Ashton snaps his pants back into place and rebuttons his shirt. He grins at her petulance, taking her chin in his fingers to give her a delicate kiss.

“I’ll be right back, angel.”

He checks his shirt as he struts across his office, hoping that whoever is behind that door is in a life or death situation. Everyone at La Belle Vie knows that if he has Nadia in his office, he is not to be disturbed. A rule that’s been established since that first night he brought her here. They’re being interrupted now just as much as they were then.

***

Ashton made sure to remove his rings from his fingers, placing them in a black porcelain bowl in the other bathroom used for guests; he’ll have them professionally cleaned in the morning. He feels empty without them. The added weight always made him feel secure somehow. One ring, a gaudy one with an onyx stone was always perched on his left pinky finger. Another one, specially made, sat on his right middle finger that always left his initials on the perpetrator’s skin, a flameless branding.

He sighs, turning on the tap and scrubbing extra hard, so the blood is completely gone. He’s never been this meticulous after a fight, or a kill for that matter. He’s become immune to the cold killings he does, usually saving the clean up when he’s back at his house in his large waterfall-style shower. He turns the water to the hottest temperature and yet, he still feels numb.

When the blood is gone, he watches his reflection as he dries his hands. Dark circles are under his eyes while the whites of his eyes are bloodshot. No wonder Nadia wouldn’t look at him, he looks every bit the monster behind such monstrous acts.

The door to the bedroom swings open, Ashton quickly tossing the towel into the sink and approaching Nadia as she exits the doorway. The t-shirt and sweatpants she’s changed into hang off her small frame, but she looks warmer. Her cheeks are rosy from the heat of the shower, she’s still hesitant as she glances at him.

“Find everything okay?” he asks politely.

“Yes, thank you,” she’s even more polite in her response.

To his surprise, Nadia moves to sit back on the couch and picks up one of the hot chocolates, bringing it to her lips. Ashton moves carefully around the couch and takes his spot from before in the armchair. She hums appreciatively at the warm drink, brown eyes flickering to his.

They stare at each other for a moment. Ashton is trying to decipher what she could possibly be thinking. He usually had a knack for that in women, but all he’s getting from her are unasked questions. Ashton has never been vulnerable with any of the women he’s had relations with, making sure his hard exterior remains impenetrable.

��You shouldn’t walk near that building that late at night. It’s dangerous,” he tells her, fixing his slight moment in weakness.

“I live a block away from there, and I haven’t had trouble until tonight,” her voice is stronger now. Ashton wonders if she’s got more courage from her warm shower or if there’s alcohol in her hot chocolate.

Testing his theory, Ashton picks up the other cup and takes a drink. All he tastes is milk chocolate with a hint of cinnamon, no alcohol detected. What changed?

“Why were you walking alone so late?” he asks. His interrogation voice rises to the surface, and he sees her fingers tighten on the cup.

“I teach ballet on Fifth and I stayed later,” she sniffs, her long nail traces the rim of the cover. “It started raining so I continued dancing hoping it would end, but it didn’t, and I had to get home.” Her eyes raise to his. “Why were you parked in that alley?”

“What age range do you teach?” he dodges her question. Luke’s unfinished question if she’s one of Rozhkov’s associates hangs in the back of his head. Nadia is a Russian name, after all, so she very well could be. “What’s your last name?”

“Why aren’t you answering my questions?” she deflects, eyes narrowing.

“Why aren’t you answering mine?” Ashton leans forward, eyebrows raised.

Nadia sighs, keeping her gaze steady on his. “I teach from the ages of four to ten, and my last name is Sharapova.”

Ashton’s jaw clenches, he needs to be on high alert because she could very well be working with Aleks Rozhkov. But his instinct is telling him she’s not associated at all, that she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Her newfound confidence is questionable though. Ashton needs to do some more probing.

“Can you answer my questions now?” she asks, her tone is a bit softer, and it throws Ashton for a loop again.

“You only asked me one,” he points out, forcing himself not to smirk. “And I already answered it, I had to speak with them about business.”

“What kind of business? Are you a club owner? Is this Aleks guy a competitor of yours?” she’s rapid fire now, and Ashton thinks the hot shower and dry clothes has brought this out of her.

The innocence is still shining in her eyes, but Ashton is smart enough to not share his true business with someone. No matter how beautiful they are.

“I do own the club downstairs, and Aleks Rozhkov is…a competitor of some sorts, yes,” he nods.

“You only answered two of my questions,” she murmurs behind her cup before taking another drink.

“I can’t answer the first one. It’s better you don’t know what I do. Do you only teach ballet or dance in a troupe?” he asks. The surprised flick of her eyebrows tells him she’s impressed by his terminology, he hides his smirk behind his cup.

“I’m in a troupe,” she nods, “um, I dance with the Chamber City Company.”

“How long have you been with them?”

“Four years. Why can’t I know what you do?”

Ashton lets out air from his nose, she’s not letting this go.

“It’s dangerous for you and I don’t want to put you in any more danger like you were in earlier.”

Nadia sinks a little further into the couch, her hands clutching her hot chocolate tighter to her chest. “Are we safe here?”

Ashton mentally reprimands himself; he doesn’t want her to fear him, yet here he is treating her like the common offender that he deals with daily. Firing questions at her and questioning her motives when really, she’s an innocent woman.

“I’m sorry Nadia, I don’t mean to scare you,” he sets his hot chocolate on the coffee table rubbing his face with his hand. He’s reminded that his rings are gone, he feels exposed then removes his hand to look at her. “And I don’t mean to offend you with my questions, I’m only trying to figure you out. I promise you that you are completely safe here. I can—”

There’s another knock at his door, and Ashton becomes a little irritated. When he’s in his office, unless they’re called, no one is to disrupt him.

“Excuse me,” he tells her then moves to the door. He opens it to see Michael standing there, his cross earrings dangling. “What?”

“There’s been a raid by the abandoned building you were at earlier,” Michael says in a rush.

“Michael, you only come to my office if it’s vital, how is this important?”

“Because it was her apartment that was raided,” Michael glances behind Ashton at Nadia.

Ashton looks behind him, Nadia’s back is to them, and he pushes Michael back into the hallway so he can close the door.

“How do you know that? You don’t even know her name—”

“Nadia Sharapova? Yeah, I do. I was given a list of names and photos of the residents and when Luke saw her photo, he told me you brought her here. Does she have any connection with Aleks?” Michael asks.

“No, she doesn’t,” Ashton shakes his head.

“Are you sure? I know she’s pretty, Ashton but—”

“She’s not, all right?” Ashton snaps. “Why was it raided?”

“The three men you fought told Aleks you defended her and now he thinks she’s close to you. She’s a target now,” Michael responds quietly.

“Shit,” Ashton hisses, his hands curling into tight fists and he begins to pace. When he comes in front of Michael he stops, “what’s it look like outside?”

“Nothing in sight. We think he might’ve set the raid as a warning, to let you know he’s watching. I can send everyone downstairs home and bring in our best—”

“No, no, keep everyone here. I don’t want to raise alarm,” Ashton is rubbing his chin now in thought. “Make sure the right people know what’s going on, and check on Meyers that his cover is still hidden. Have Asana assemble our needed artillery. I need to tell Nadia—”

“You’re really going to tell her you’re in the mafia?” Michael’s dark eyebrows disappear under his dirty blond hair.

“No, I need to tell her she doesn’t have a home to go to. Only come to my office if you have other news.”

“Yes sir,” Michael nods.

Ashton sighs pinching the bridge of his nose. His good deed of helping Nadia has now put her between a rock and a hard place. He’s not quite sure which one he is in the metaphor or which is worse. He opens the door to see she’s standing in front of the bookcase next to the fireplace. She jumps at his entrance.

“I’m sorry, I was—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves his hand, “I have quite a lot of books in here. Um, there’s something I need to tell you, and it’s going to be difficult to hear.”

Nadia crosses her arms over her chest, not in defiance, but in more of a comforting way. Ashton almost wishes he could be the one comforting her. She nods at him to go on.

“Aleks Rozhkov is a…dangerous man and one of my…colleagues just informed me that your apartment was raided by his men,” Ashton explains carefully. He wishes he could tell her everything, it pains him to skirt around the truth like this with her.

“How do you know it was my apartment? I only told you—”

“We were sent names and photos of the residents and yours is on that list. I’m so sorry. You’re more than—”

“Names and photos? What are you, the CIA or something?” her voice rises in hysterics. She begins to knot her fingers together then grabs a lock of her hair and twists it between her fingers. Her eyes are moving frantically about the room, “This isn’t—what is happening? Why would he send men to raid my apartment?”

“Nadia, listen to me,” Ashton speaks slowly, moving his head in her line of vision. His hazel meets her brown and her breathing becomes more even. “I promise to keep you safe, but you have to trust me.”

“How can I trust you when I just met you?”

***

Ashton opens the door to see Michael standing there, his green eyes frantic as he meets the gaze with his boss.

“Mike, you know the rules—”

“I know, I know but this is urgent. There’s a woman downstairs who says she works with Liam and he wants to speak with you.”

Silent alarms go off in Ashton’s head. Liam Payne. He hasn’t heard that name in five years. They used to be a team, Ashton and Liam. They owned the town and partied with the most beautiful women. Others feared them because together, they rose to the top at an exponential rate.

Both took over the family business after their father’s ran off and hid because they were caught with extortion of money from the police. At the ripe age of eighteen, they became head bosses and had to learn the ropes from the associates their father’s left behind. Bonding over that life-altering event, they shared ideas and became as close as brothers.

It didn’t take long for them to excel their fathers’ legacies, both Liam and Ashton were easily the most respected and valued amongst their associates. Liam was the one who thought of the idea of La Belle Vie since they were living the good life. Two young men in their early twenties partying, meeting beautiful women and getting rich? What more could you want?

Another life-altering moment happened with Liam when one of the women he was seeing became pregnant. He stepped down from his duties which meant stepping down from Ashton. Ashton could only understand to a degree of why Liam stepped away, but his father leaving him left a deeper wound than he thought.

His father was all he had, but even when he was around, Ashton never felt love from him. He was always gone on “business trips” and would only say a few words to Ashton when he was home. He grew up void of love. When his father ran, Ashton swore to himself he wouldn’t have a family so he wouldn’t treat his children the same way.

Liam came around and soon after so did Michael, Luke, and Calum. The four of them became his brothers, his true family. He vowed to protect them with his life. So, when Liam left, too, he felt abandoned all over again. But he’s proud that he left to be what their fathers couldn’t be, present.

There was a raid that was happening, and Ashton called Liam for backup. He could fight like no other and drives better than any professional racecar driver he’s ever met. Liam was quick to say yes and once he arrived it was just like old times. Liam filled Ashton in on the new house he and Tanya bought, how the nursery was going to be set up with dinosaurs because they were having a boy.

Ashton could see the change in Liam, he had a new light of happiness and even showed him a picture of a large diamond ring he bought to give Tanya. Ashton was happy for him, he truly was, but to have one of his best friends—his brother—back by his side made him happier.

The raid went awry as soon as Ashton and Liam crossed the threshold of the warehouse. There were explosions and Liam was quick to pull Ashton into cover. One of the Snatchers—the Rozhkov’s errand boys—ran by and Liam took care of him quickly with a flick of his wrist and pull of his trigger. Just as Ashton was about to ask what their new plan was, Liam’s phone rang.

He picked it up because it was Tanya. Ashton remembers hearing her crying through the phone, Liam asking her what was wrong, where she was and then a scream followed by the loudest dial tone Ashton ever heard, was left in her wake. One of the Snatchers cackled behind them, gloating to another that their plan worked.

Angry and confused, Liam sprung from his place with Ashton reaching for the coattails of his suit, his gun pointed directly at the two Snatchers. They cackled again as they informed Liam that his new cookie-cut-life is no more.

Tanya and his unborn baby were in the house as a bomb went off and Liam lost control.

“Ashton…Ashton!” Michael snaps his fingers in front of Ashton’s face, snapping him back to reality.

Ashton composed himself quickly, “Did he say what he wants?”

“No. Should I have him come upstairs?”

“No, no, I’ll…I’ll be right down. Seat him in the Brandy Room, have Paco make him whatever he wants.”

“You got it,” Michael responds quietly. He looks like he wants to say something else but nods instead and moves back to the elevator.

As soon as he’s gone, Ashton backs into his office. He hears his name but it’s as if his head is underwater, his ears are ringing, and the numb feeling is back. He walks robotically to his desk, eyes on his glass as he lifts it in his fingers then flings it across the room. The glass shatters loudly on the door, the wood glistens from the liquid and ice as it runs through the panes.

The resemblance of names makes his head pound. Then his ears stop ringing and he’s shifted back into focus, Nadia’s hands are clutching at his arms spinning him around to face her. When his hazel eyes meet her warm brown ones, he locks into her gaze and holds on. When she touches his cheek, his hand is quick to cover it, feeling her warmth on his skin.

“What is it? Talk to me,” she asks him softly.

“An old…” Ashton swallows harshly and licks his lips, “a family member is here that I haven’t seen in a very long time.”

Nadia’s eyes soften, she rubs his cheek with her thumb. “Okay. What for?”

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head then knocks his forehead to hers. He breathes in her coconut and white gardenia perfume. All he wants is to stay here with her, but his past is flowing like a river into her life. He doesn’t want her to drown like him. “We didn’t leave on good terms.”

Nadia lifts her other hand to his cheek and stretches her lips forward to give him a soothing kiss. Ashton wraps his arms around her back, holding her close. She continues to stroke his cheeks lovingly. “You don’t have to tell me now,” she begins, “but if you’d like to talk about it, you know I’ll listen. Do you want me to stay up here and wait until you come back?”

“I’d like you with me,” he sighs giving in to his own selfish desires. Nadia helps keep him grounded, keeps his head level and his anger at bay.

“Okay,” she nods shifting her fingers to link together at the base of his neck.

Ashton pulls her into a tight embrace, he kisses her shoulder and exhales deeply as she kisses his ear. He gives her one more kiss before pulling back.

“How do I look?” he asks.

He watches Nadia fondly as she fixes his hair, adjusts his buttons and smooths down his shirt. Her eyes flick to his and she smiles.

“Handsome as ever.”

“Thank you, angel,” he forces half a smile. His mind is already downstairs on Liam waiting for him. Ashton grabs her hand, making sure she’s careful as they walk over the broken glass; he’ll ask Peter, one of his best waitstaff, to clean it up.

Their footsteps echo against the walls to the elevator. He leans against the parallel mirrored wall, the doors still open as Nadia settles next to him. She pushes the correct button and the doors close, showing their reflections.

***

Ashton and Nadia’s reflections stare back at them. They’re a good half a foot apart in the elevator as it starts to descend. He’s offered one of his guest rooms for her usage and for her safety. It took some convincing but after she finally agreed, he decided to take her to his place, it’s getting late.

He tries not to stare at her in the reflected elevator door but something about her captivates him. He wants to know more about her, and the thought terrifies him. the doors open once more and Ashton leads her down the hallway, he notices the way she inches closer to him, then pushes open the secret door.

There are only a few patrons left in the club, two of them being Luke and Michael sitting close together. Their heads snap in Ashton and Nadia’s direction as Ashton leads her by.

“See you tomorrow, boys,” Ashton tells them. They nod, eyes flickering to Nadia.

Once outside, Ashton opens the passenger door of his car for Nadia as she slides in. He makes sure to turn her seat warmer on which she thanks him for quietly. The ride is silent as he takes side streets and back roads, always taking the long way home in case he’s followed.

In another life, maybe he would be driving Nadia back to her place after a nice dinner, not back to his place because her home was raided. His fingers tap on the wheel reminding him how exposed they are without his rings. He’s being his most vulnerable with Nadia and they just met.

After twenty minutes, he’s pulled into his garage and shuts off his car.

“We—” when he looks at Nadia, her head is against the seat, eyes closed. He admires her for a moment, trying to decode what it is about her that has him going against his norm. Shadows from her long lashes kiss her cheeks and her cupid’s bow sticks out a little as she breathes evenly.

He doesn’t want to wake her. She looks so peaceful after a night of crazy circumstances that is ending even crazier by spending the night at a stranger’s house. Ashton sighs then exits the car moving to her side quickly. He opens the door and unbuckles her belt with care then places his hand on her shoulder.

“Nadia,” he calls her name softly. She sighs deeply, eyes fluttering open and she jumps in her seat taking in her new surroundings until her gaze lands on Ashton. “You’re all right. You fell asleep.”

He holds out his hand helping her get out, he can feel how heavy with sleep she is as they walk into the house. When they’re in the guest room, across the short skyway where Ashton’s room is, she’s practically hanging off his arms but he’s supporting her.

“There’s a bathroom just next door and remotes are in the nightstand if you’d like to watch TV,” he explains sitting her gingerly on the bed. “My room is right through the other end of the skyway, come get me if you need anything.”

Nadia nods heavily, her eyes drooping from exhaustion. Her adrenaline has finally started to subside, and she feels so drained.

“Thank you, Ashton,” she begins to crawl under the covers.

Ashton is frozen in place at the sound of his name leaving her lips. He watches her slip into the bed and curl up to one of the pillows. Her long brown hair fans behind her then he remembers it’s time to leave her be and rest. Even though everything in him wants to sit in the corner and make sure she does sleep soundly.

“Right,” he clears his throat, “Goodnight, Nadia.”

He closes the door as quietly as he can then walks through his skyway, his pathway illuminated by the moon. He hangs his suit jacket on the back of his chair, removing the rest of his clothes. Usually a man to sleep in his boxers, or naked, he pulls on some shorts and a tank top just in case. In case Nadia needs him and he doesn’t want to burst into her room completely naked.

As Ashton settles into his own California King bed, he stares up at his ceiling mulling over the events that happened tonight. Sitting outside the abandoned warehouse felt like days rather than mere hours ago. He didn’t even get a chance to investigate what exactly Rozhkov’s men were doing there. Nadia’s presence had completely shifted his focus and now all his attention is on her and keeping her safe.

He’s never truly felt alone until now, sure, he has his brothers, but this is a different kind of loneliness. It’s a loneliness of companionship while there’s a beautiful woman who crossed his path sleeping alone as well. What a twisted piece of fate.

The next morning, Ashton is on a phone call with Calum going over logistics of the raid in the kitchen when Nadia makes her way downstairs. Her arms are wrapped around herself as she takes in the whites and blacks of the appliances and surfaces, Calum’s voice drones on.

“I’ll call you back,” Ashton interrupts Calum then hangs up without a goodbye. “Good morning,” he greets Nadia.

“Morning,” she responds with a wan smile, eyes still taking in the room. Then she zeroes in on a coffee pot.

“Would you like a cup?” Ashton springs into action quickly by opening a cupboard and grabbing a mug. He pours her a decent amount then shifts to the fridge opening it up. “I have quite a selection of creamer, what would you like?”

“Um, do you have French vanilla?” she steps towards him peering into the fridge doors.

He pulls the requested creamer from the door then moves to her cup he’s started; she follows like a shadow. Ashton swirls the contents then pops the top and begins to pour.

“That’s good,” she stops him when the cream blooms in the dark coffee.

“Sugar?” he asks opening another cabinet. He realizes the double meaning of the sweet product and the pet name, for some reason he wishes he were calling her that.

“Two spoons.”

He stirs the concoction together with a spoon, tapping it on the lip before turning around to hand it to her. Nadia takes it graciously, blowing gently over the hot liquid before taking a tentative sip. She hums in approval then gives Ashton a smile.

“Thank you, it’s perfect.”

He’s hypnotized by her eyes, being this close and in the natural light he can see tiny flecks of green and gold around her pupils. He blinks then lifts his own mug back into his hand.

“How did you sleep?”

“All right. I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything that happened last night…”

Ashton notices her shy demeanor is back.

“I know, it is a lot. I was speaking with a colleague of mine before you came in and he’s going to check it out, make sure there isn’t anything dangerous left behind. I was thinking I could take you there so you can gather some of your things and bring here,” Ashton suggests.

The notion didn’t sound so odd in his head but now that he said it aloud, he’s realized how peculiar it is to have a woman he saved from the street move in with him in less than twenty-four hours. Even if it is temporary. He hopes she doesn’t question his motives, that she can see he only wants to protect her.

Nadia takes another drink of her coffee. “That sounds like a good idea, thank you,” her voice wavers slightly.

She leans against the counter, staring outside as two little birds dance around each other on the birdbath. She tilts her head as one of the birds do, wings flittering before it hops into the water near to the other bird.

“I’m assuming you want me to stay here because it would be safer than a hotel?” Nadia asks thoughtfully.

“Your assumption would be correct,” Ashton moves from her side to stand in front of her, he cocks his head so he can capture her attention. “I want you to feel safe, Nadia. I’m so sorry that you’ve been brought into this and I hope you trust me.”

“Can’t the police do anything?” she asks, and he smiles smugly.

“I’m better than the police, trust me.”

“I do trust you,” she downs the rest of her coffee, eyes flickering to the two birds who are now gone then back to Ashton. “That’s what scares me.”

Nadia then retired to her room while Ashton waited to hear from Calum about her apartment building. When he received an all clear, he ascends the stairs walking across the skyway then pauses before he knocks gently on her door. She responds with a quiet ‘come in’ and when he opens the door he finds her sitting on the window seat with her legs curled up underneath her gazing out the window.

How can she be so effortlessly beautiful?

“Um, if you’d like to get changed we can head on over to your place,” he says from the doorway.

She turns her head then slips off the seat, her bare feet sinking in the plush carpet with every step. “I have nothing to change into,” she shrugs, “this is all I have right now.”

Ashton curses himself.

“Right. Um, then let me get dressed and we’ll make our way there. I won’t be long; you can meet me in the kitchen.”

Ashton changed into one of his more casual suits, making sure he had his gun holstered inside the jacket, before meeting Nadia in the kitchen. Their drive is silent, Ashton doesn’t really know what to expect when they arrive at her building. He made sure Calum would be there and stand guard outside while Ashton and Nadia were upstairs.

He parks smoothly along the curb, rushing to her side of the car so he can open the door for her. Calum meets them halfway on the sidewalk, he grins at Nadia kindly.

“Calum, this is Nadia. Nadia, this is Calum, he’s a colleague of mine and a brother,” Ashton introduces them.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nadia,” Calum grins again holding out his hand which Nadia takes. “I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nadia smiles weakly. When their hands release, she crosses her arms over her chest, an action Ashton notices she does a lot.

“We all right to go in?” Ashton asks nodding to the building.

“Yeah, everyone else is out. I spoke with the landlord and he said he’s going to have authorities take over to try and catch the—whoever did this.” Calum glances at Nadia then Ashton, he heard from Michael that Ashton doesn’t want her to know what his line of work is.

“I know who did this,” Nadia offers throwing a quick glimpse to Ashton, “he just won’t tell me why.”

Calum’s eyebrows raise in amusement, eyes darting between his boss and this woman he rescued the night prior.

“He’s a smart man. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

“Thanks Calum,” Ashton claps him on the shoulder as Nadia skirts around him. She pulls on the door; Ashton follows her down the hall to the elevator. “Which one are you in?”

“4C,” she says pushing the number four.

He follows her again as she walks down the hallway to the fourth door on the right, he knows Calum cleared the building but he’s keeping his wits about him. Nadia pulls her key from the pocket of her borrowed sweatpants, slotting it in the lock and turning. He notices her shoulders rise, then fall before she pushes the door open.

Peering over her head he can see the destruction her apartment is in. Plates and mugs are broken on the kitchen floor, chairs and tables are overturned. Her couch is even ripped open on the seats and she takes tentative steps inside, Ashton close behind. Picture frames are askew on the wall or tossed on the floor along with magazines, books, and dirt from upturned plants.

After taking in his surroundings, he shifts his focus to Nadia who has her hand over her mouth, eyes wide as she takes in her home. Nadia walks slowly to certain areas; her couch and her bookshelf in the corner, a spot on the wall that has impressions of picture frames left on the paint. When she pushes open her bedroom door, that’s when she gasps.

Not wanting her to be here longer than necessary, he moves behind her with his hand out as if to hold onto her elbow or cup her shoulder in comfort. He drops his hand in silent defeat, shoving it in his pocket instead.

“I can help you pack some clothes or pillows or whatever you need—”

“Can I have a few minutes, please?” she asks quietly, her voice cracking.

“I can—”

“Please, just…five minutes, Ashton.”

Ashton backs out of her room silently. Before he can make it to her main door, he hears her choked sobs as she cries. He swears in that moment he will protect her with his life.

***

The two men standing guard in front of the Brandy Room door, Charlie and Emil, step aside as soon as Ashton and Nadia approach. They nod solemnly to Ashton then smile in unison to Nadia as they open the doors. Nadia notices the usual men and women standing along the border of the room, Ashton always had his best security in La Belle Vie but she pauses on the woman with sleek black hair sitting at the table and a man in an Armani suit standing with his back to them. She assumes this is the family member Ashton is nervous about.

“Liam,” Ashton calls his name and Liam turns.

Nadia’s taken aback at how handsome he is, sharp jaw, chiseled beard with an odd, hard glint in his eyes but when he smiled it disappeared. When he smiled Nadia was reminded of a puppy that she wanted to get to know.

“Ashton! How’s it going, mate?” Liam sets his short glass of brandy on the circular table in front of him. He walks around the table, his arms opening wide for a hug but Ashton steps back. Liam chuckles shaking his head, resting his hand on the back of one of the chairs. “I deserve that,” he indicates the woman, “this is Veronica.”

Veronica has almond shaped eyes that are a piercing green in color. A beauty mark lies above her perfectly full lips. She stares at them as if bored and Nadia feels very intimidated

“We’ve met briefly,” Ashton’s voice is clipped as he keeps his gaze on Liam. “What are you doing here, Liam?”

“We’re not done with introductions yet! Who may you be, love?” Liam peers behind Ashton at Nadia.

Ashton turns to her; his face softens as he stares at her. He wants to hold her hand, but he knows if he does in this moment, he’ll be weak at her touch which is the opposite of what he wants to be right now.

“This is Nadia.”

Liam brushes past Ashton to take Nadia’s hand in his, bringing it to his lips, smiling on her knuckles.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nadia. I’ve heard whispers about you and they’re true, you are an exceptionally beautiful woman,” he murmurs then kisses her knuckles before releasing her hand.

Nadia’s cheeks flush at the compliment, she’s quick to peek at Ashton whose jaw is clenched at the interaction. She knows how protective he is of her and although Liam looks like a puppy when he smiles, he could have a mean bite for all she knows.

“Thank you,” she replies politely, nonetheless.

“What are you doing here, Liam?” Ashton asks again forcing his voice to remain even and controlled.

“I hear Aleks is still at large and I want to help end him,” Liam shoves his hand in his pocket walking back around the table. He struts confidently as if he owns the place and Nadia is confused at how comfortable he seems as he picks up his glass and takes a smooth swallow. “Veronica has been my little fly on the wall relaying what’s been going on to me.”

“You’ve been spying on me?”

“Spying, getting intel…it’s all relative,” Liam shrugs finishing off his drink. He places his empty glass on the table then leans on it with his palms. “I’m sick of him getting away with shit. I know you’ve got a plan and I want in.”

Ashton is reverted to that horrible day, where he lost his brother forever. Liam went ballistic and charged for the Snatchers who were boasting about the death of his girlfriend and unborn son. It was a distraction that took Ashton and Liam from the main quandary of reaching Aleks.

Ashton hurled himself into the throes of Liam’s rage and broken heartedness until the Snatchers were unconscious. Then Liam fired two kill shots into their foreheads. Aleks got away. Liam and Ashton had a fallout with harsh words then Ashton was abandoned again.

“What do you say?” Liam’s voice pulls Ashton back to the present.

“Why do you want to help now? I haven’t seen nor heard from you in five years, Liam. You don’t want this li—you don’t want a part of this…business… anymore,” Ashton catches himself because of Nadia’s presence.

Liam’s eyes flicker between Ashton and Nadia, the corner of his mouth twitches as he makes the connection that Nadia is completely in the dark of Ashton’s true business. He lets it slide this time.

“You’re right, I don’t. But I want to get rid of Rozhkov more. Veronica is my eyes and ears and when she heard Rozhkov is selling or buying or whatever the hell he does, I had to see you. Just think about it, yeah?” Liam reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a card. He holds it out to Nadia between his two fingers, she plucks it delicately from him. “I know he won’t take it from me, but I can tell he trusts you, beautiful. Make sure he calls me.”

He winks at her quickly, gives Ashton one final look then snaps his fingers. Veronica springs from her seat gliding to the door as they both make their exit. Nadia reads the card in her hand, it’s slate gray with silver writing that reads his name and below that it says ‘Efficient in getting the job done’ followed by a phone number.

Ashton exhales loudly, leaning on the tabletop and Nadia shifts her attention to him. She moves forward, stroking her hand over his back while the other grips his bicep giving him a comforting squeeze. She waits patiently for him to say something, analyzing how heavy his body seems. Not entirely sure on what he did today, she can tell that whatever it was has left him drained then Calum’s advice pops in her head.

“Let’s go home, get you in a nice hot shower and into to bed,” she offers.

He stands to his full height, sighing with a smirk as he strokes her cheek with his fingers.

“I’ll never deny a shower with you, angel. Come on.”

The couple say their quick goodbyes to everyone in the main room of the club, Calum and Asana now seated at the bar. Asana’s long legs are crossed as she sits atop the bar, Calum’s hand resting on her knee as he eyes Ashton after watching Liam exit the Brandy Room. Ashton shakes his head, Calum nods in understanding then turns his attention back to Asana who pokes his nose with her gold painted fingernail.

Ashton keeps a firm hand on Nadia’s thigh as he races home. The events of the day and seeing Liam are trying to catch up with him but he doesn’t want to face them quite yet. He’ll face them after spending time with Nadia in the shower and in their bed until she inevitably falls asleep from the activities they’ll be participating in.

Nadia takes the lead by grabbing his hand and pulls him upstairs to their shared bedroom. While she gathers their towels, Ashton discards his gun from his holster. He unloads it, double checks the safety is on and places it in the perfect outline of the case next to his side of the bed. Before Nadia, he’d always kept it loaded and right on the nightstand but now, he didn’t want her to accidentally pick it up and hurt herself.

He shuts the case with a satisfying snap then turns to Nadia who’s leaning against the opening of the bathroom door. She flashes him a keen smile then pushes off the door jamb entering the bathroom. The water sprays on as he makes his way into the bathroom just in time to see Nadia reach for her zipper.

“Let me,” he tells her softly. His fingers overtake hers, pulling the zipper down its track to the very bottom of her lower back. He brushes the straps off her tanned skin, the fabric drops to the floor in melted gold. She turns around and his breath is stolen at the sight of her naked body before him. “I’ll never get over how beautiful you are.”

Her cheeks flush, then Ashton watches her intently as she unbuttons his dress pants yanking his shirt from the waistband before working on the buttons of his shirt. He lets her push it off his shoulders while he kicks off his boots. He takes over by removing his pants, boxers and socks; his eyes never straying from hers. He lets her lead him into the large shower, steam rolling over them in clouds.

In a controlled manner, he cradles the back of her head in his hand pushing her against the dark tiled wall under the stream of water. Nadia gasps at the movement then hums when he presses his body against hers. She tilts her head back, eyes darkening with lust and love. He smirks at her submission, moving his hand from the back of her head to her neck, his thumb pulling her mouth open.

“What do you want from me, angel?” he asks huskily dipping his head so he can kiss the underside of her jaw. His teeth graze at the lobe of her ear before sucking a bruising kiss on her neck, his favorite form of showing she’s his woman, his love. “Speak to me.”

“Your lips,” she sighs, and he smiles pulling his head back to meet her eyes.

“Where do you want my lips?”

Nadia raises her hand then taps her bottom lip. “Right here.”

He crushes his mouth to hers, tongue invading her mouth easily and he tightens his grip on her waist and the back of her neck. His fingers knot in her hair while her hands travel up his back, squeezing the muscles in his shoulders. He feels as if he’s kissing her too roughly, so he reins it back. Many times before, he’s taken his frustration out by releasing it in rough sex with her. He knows her body well so he knows what she can take, and she always, always has a safe word that if she utters it he will stop whatever he’s doing immediately.

Right now, though, he wants a different form of passion with her, so he kisses her slowly.

“What else?” he mumbles on her lips and she hikes her leg up to his waist. The height difference makes it difficult because she can’t get a firm grip, so he helps by securing his hand behind her knee. His already hard and aching dick brushes against her inner thigh, she bucks her hips forward.

“Want you to fuck me,” she gasps, her nails digging into his skin.

“Already? You don’t want my fingers first?” he teases pushing his hips against hers. Her eyes close and he grins. “You were so good for me in my office…took my fingers so well.”

“Please, Ashton, please,” she whines trying to grind her core over his hot, wet dick.

He leans back then lifts her other leg, so it hooks around his waist securely. He grabs the base of his dick, rubbing his head through her leaking folds, pushing in slightly. Nadia bites her lip.

“You want me to go slow or fast?” he pushes in more, his senses tingling by feeling her warm walls take him in.

“Fast,” she whispers, eyes lowering to watch him enter her inch by inch.

As soon as he’s slotted into her fully, Nadia gasps from the fullness of him, and he begins a fast pace of thrusting. His grip is firm on her thighs as he holds her against the shower wall, cock propelling easily with his force. Nadia’s nails scratch at his back while her body jerks against the tile, her head smacking it as well.

Ashton nudges his hand behind her head as a cushion, he doesn’t want her to get a headache but continues to pound relentlessly into her as her moans bounce off the walls from the stimulation. With each push she clenches around him and it brings Ashton closer to his release. Nadia’s head falls to his neck, her lips suctioning onto his skin.

“Nadia,” he warns through his teeth not wanting a mark to show and he slows his movements. She moans against him instead, her breath hot on his skin, teeth still embedded on his shoulder. “Nadia,” he repeats more sternly, and she releases her teeth.

Satisfied, he picks up his pace, dick slamming in and out in an effortless glide. Her moans are more consistent as she’s rocked with pleasure, clenching around him as she comes.

“That’s my good girl,” he groans, his own orgasm taking over. His hips continue to pulsate against her, his body stilling as they both come down.

Nadia hums, releasing her nails from his skin that Ashton’s sure is covered in red streaks. He doesn’t mind those marks because his men won’t see those. He loves the lasting impression of her passion ingrained in his back, the burn a constant reminder of their fiery love.

He kisses her wet hair, thumb rubbing at the bottom of her scalp before lifting her off him. He sets her down tenderly onto the floor keeping a steady hand on her hips as her legs shake slightly. He glides his hands up and over her chest to cradle her cheeks.

“Let’s clean up and go to bed, yeah? What do you say?”

“Thank you,” she mumbles.

He smiles at her response, it’s not quite the one he was looking for now, but he appreciates it all the same. It was a method he came up with. If she didn’t thank him for an orgasm, it meant he didn’t satisfy her enough—or at all—so that’s his green light to keep going until he pleasured her.

He kisses her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, then gives her a soft peck on the lips before he cleans her up. They massage shampoo in each other’s hair, letting it rinse off as they held each other kissing under the water. Ashton turns the water off and wraps her in the large fluffy towel.

As their bodies dry, they brush their teeth and he brushes through her hair after she toweled it off. It’s one of his most favorite intimate acts to do with her, Nadia adores her hair and he loves the shine and softness of it. Changing into their sleep clothes, he shuts the light off as she crawls into their large bed. When he’s settled next to her, he turns her by the cheek to look up at him.

“I love you, Nadia. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I do. I love you, too, Ashton.” She stretches up to give him a kiss. “Get some sleep and we can discuss Liam tomorrow, okay? I know you’re thinking about it.”

He doesn’t reply as she nestles into the sheets and against his chest, she’s asleep in seconds. Ashton remains awake for hours after. His mind reeling from his past coming into his present, it’s bringing forth emotions he thought he’s long forgotten. Nadia’s fingers tighten on his tank top, sighing out “sleep, honey. ‘m right here.”

He kisses her head then closes his eyes, she’s his weakness as much as she’s his strength.

***

It’s been three weeks now that Nadia has been staying with Ashton. In that time, he’s driven her to and from work and to practice in the city. He’s always parked outside so he can watch for Rozhkov’s men and thankfully she’s been safe every time. Ashton prefers when they’re at his home or La Belle Vie because he knows Nadia is one hundred percent safe.

With his new role of security for Nadia, Calum, Luke, and Michael have all stepped up to take over his usual duties at the club and intercepting phone calls. Ashton is constantly in the know on everything which caused endless late nights; he’s running on caffeine.

The only time Nadia and Ashton are truly apart are when he’s in meetings at the club and while they sleep. One night while he was sending e-mails, he heard a commotion from the kitchen. Jumping into action quickly, he flew down the stairs with his hand on his gun, when he saw her poking around in the cabinets.

Sighing with relief, he removed his hand as he approached her slowly while also forcing himself not to stare at her long legs extended from her shorts.

“Are you all right?” he asked, and she jumped at his voice.

“Yeah, I’m…I can’t sleep so I was looking for a snack…I’m sorry, this isn’t my home I shouldn’t be—”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” he shook his head. “I’m the reason you’re here, treat it like your home. Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“Popcorn?”

When the popcorn was popped and in a large glass bowl, he invited her into his study that was opposite his room. Hearing her munch on the popcorn behind him was oddly endearing as they walked through the skyway. He motioned to a plush armchair that had a blanket thrown over the back. Periodically he would place blankets all over the house for her to use, they appeared to be a comfort for her.

“You’re still in a suit this late?” she asked pulling the gray knit blanket over her legs. “Doesn’t that make you uncomfortable?”

“Not really,” he shrugged crossing out a number on his sheet of paper. “I’ve been wearing suits since I was eighteen.”

“It’s like a dress code,” she mumbled shoving popcorn into her mouth.

“How so?” he grinned.

“All of you wear them. When we’re at La Belle Vie, everybody there is in a suit. Even the women, which, isn’t a bad thing of course, but it’s…interesting.” She gave him a narrowed look and he laughed.

“Are you making observations?”

“I am. I’m trying to do process of elimination.”

“For what?”

“Figuring out your job.”

Ashton froze. The playful banter was short lived like he should expect, but he never wants her to know what he does or has done in the past. He never wants her to see the copious amounts of blood on his hands.

“You won’t figure it out, and it’s better if you don’t. Trust me.”

“I do trust you, remember?”

Nearly every night after that, she would join him in his study while eating a bowl of popcorn talking with him until she finished it. It was always his favorite part of the day, spending this time with her. He got to ask her questions and understand her the more she opens up about herself.

He discovered she started dancing at the young age of four, she was constantly dancing and spinning around the house until her parents decided to set her up with lessons. Nadia quickly danced her way to the top of her class and was always excelling to the next age level, two years ahead her own age.

While ballet had its own structure and poise, Nadia really felt free when she danced, like it was the only place for her to be. She received a full scholarship to Juilliard at the age of seventeen, even studied abroad in the Royal Ballet School in London for one semester and then in The Paris Opera Ballet School in Paris.

Ashton is impressed by her successes asking what made her decide to dance at the Chamber City Company when there are plenty other prime ballet companies to be a part of.

“I love it here; I love teaching other young dancers and ballet is more of my soul than a job. If I were to join any other troupe, I’d be run like a machine and it wouldn’t be enjoyable,” she explained.

On another night, he found out how much she loves chocolate covered strawberries and the fog that blankets over dewy grass in the early mornings. Her guilty pleasure is watching classic black and white romance movies amongst her other likes of Italian food and dislikes of avocadoes. Her brown eyes shine a bit brighter when she talks of her interests, but nothing compares to the sparkle in them when she talks about her dancing.

She’s tried to figure out what his job really entails but Ashton catches on to her innocent questions easily and doesn’t reveal a thing. She never gives up and although he admires her perseverance, it upsets him that he continually lies to her but it’s for her own protection. He knows he’s rationalizing, but he brought her into this mess and telling her the truth would make it messier.

Nadia’s upstairs in the bar area with Michael while Ashton is down in the third lowest level of the club with Asana in the weapons room. She’s tapping away at her laptop while he eyes up some new artillery she has displayed out for him.

“I hear you’re going to Italy soon,” Asana starts conversationally.

“I’ve been trying to get out of it,” he mumbles.

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t want to leave Nadia alone.”

Asana smirks and continues typing when she replies, “Why don’t you bring her with you?”

“Absolutely not,” Ashton deadpans, the look on his face clearly signifying it wasn’t open for discussion.

“She’s safest with you,” Asana sighs and closes her laptop. She leans on it; her dark eyes pierce his. “And if Aleks is keeping eyes on you, he’d use your distance from her as an advantage. He could come here and take her out while you’re gone.”

Ashton ponders this for a moment. He would trust Luke and Michael to protect her while he was gone but Asana has a point; Nadia is safest with him. Wherever he goes, there’s plenty of security plus he’s a deadly weapon himself.

“Wouldn’t that be moving too fast? I’ve known her for three weeks and I’d already be bringing her on a trip to Italy? What would she even do while I’m meeting with the Guerriero’s?”

“I could come with and take her shopping,” she smiles.

“This isn’t a vacation, Asana. And Calum would be working as well.”

“I know, and you know that I protect my own,” Asana’s voice turns assertive. “I can see how much she means to you, boss man. Three weeks or three years, there isn’t a deadline on caring for someone. It happens unexpectedly.”

“What if she says no?”

“Then she says no,” Asana shrugs crossing her arms. “I’ll stay here and help make sure she’s safe and going to practice. Have you seen her dance yet, by the way?”

“No…should I have?”

“I’ve read the forums and reviews of the Chamber City Company, and she’s the best dancer. I was only curious.”

“I’m sure I will someday. Thanks Asana, I’ll think about what you said,” he says then turns to the door, but he stops. “What’s going on between you and Cal anyway?”

“Figure it out, boss man,” she sighs airily then goes back to her work.

Later that night Nadia knocks on his study door and Ashton invites her in with a dull tone. He’s standing near the window rubbing the knots in his neck as she enters. His suit jacket has been tossed on one of the armchairs and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He’s been stressed all night.

“Everything all right?” Nadia asks setting the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. She crosses her arms over her chest approaching his desk.

“Not really,” he sighs. “I’m needed in Italy for the next four days. I’ve tried negotiating and sending only Calum but they’re requesting me.”

“Why’s that a bad thing?”

Ashton turns to look at her, his jaw tensing. “I won’t be here to protect you. And while I trust my men and women to do that while I’m away…it puts me at ease when I know for sure you’re safe. With me.”

A soft pink blooms on Nadia’s cheeks at his sentiment. Over the last few weeks, her trust in Ashton has increased tenfold. He’s treated her with the utmost respect and never overcrowds her. He’s sure to give her her space and that she feels comfortable in his house. She’s still trying to figure out his line of business but her only leads are that it’s dangerous and Ashton is fearfully respected from everyone around him.

“Oh. Would I be here by myself?”

“No,” he responds quickly, “I’d have Michael and Luke here with you. My security system is top of the line but--”

“How long would you be gone?”

“Four days. There’s another option but I’m unsure of it,” he swallows thickly then rests his hands on the desk. He lifts his head looking at her in an almost morose way as he weighs the options he’s been given.

“What’s that option?”

“Asana, my head specialist, suggested I bring you with me so I would know you’re safe. But by knowing me…your life has already been upturned, and I don’t want to add more by flying you across the world.”

Nadia chews on her lower lip. How odd is it that if he were to leave her here, she’d be worried about him? From what she’s gathered on her own probing, his job is dangerous, but she doesn’t know exactly why or how.

Since the moment they met, he’s been protecting her with his life.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Italy,” she says brightly.

Ashton’s eyebrows raise in bemusement then he’s laughing, and Nadia follows.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to miss practice or your classes with your students.”

“I’m sure. I can get a sub and practice is on hold because the floors are being redone. There’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t have a passport,” she laughs nervously. Excitement and nerves bubble in her stomach at the thought of traveling to Italy. She has always wanted to go but never would have dreamed it would be with a man like Ashton, this mysterious, handsome man who has taken her in.

“I can have that arranged, Nadia.”

***

Every morning before Nadia leaves for practice she and Ashton share a cup of coffee and a light breakfast of English muffins and fruit. She leaves the remaining crumbs outside for the birds that always come by the feeder and birdbath, a request she made to Ashton long ago of keeping birdseed on hand. There’s something about watching them that soothes her and always brings a smile to her face.

“How long is practice today?” Ashton asks watching her place the small scraps of food in her palm.

“Three, then I teach from four to five thirty,” she rises from her place at the table and opens one of the French doors. Ashton watches her as she sprinkles the treats on the wooden platform of the feeder then comes back inside to stand next to him. “Do we have plans tonight?”

“Well,” he sighs winding his arm around her waist to pull her closer, “I’ve got a big meeting today that I’m hoping won’t go until five thirty. I was thinking we could go downtown to Caesar’s Palace for dinner?” He rests his other hand on her stomach, rubbing her affectionately.

“You know I never turn down Caesar’s,” she smiles brushing his dark hair away from his forehead. “Should I have Vinny drop me off at the club or come home and wait for you?”

“Meet me at the club, I’m having a new dress delivered for you,” he grins up at her and Nadia tugs on his hair.

“Ashton! What did we just discuss last night?” she whines in mock irritation.

“I can’t help it that I want to spoil you, baby,” he tickles her stomach until she’s doubling over squealing in laughter.

“Spoil me too much and I might get used to it,” she growls lowly in his ear. She nips at the shell of his ear and Ashton tries to drag her onto his lap but Nadia fights away from his grasp. “No, no,” she wiggles her finger at his perplexed expression; she’s never pulled away from him before. “If I spoil you too much, you might get used to it, honey.”

She twirls on her heels and Ashton has half a mind to follow after her, take her in his arms and press her against the kitchen island while his teeth graze along her throat and his fingers slip into her shorts. He restrains himself, knowing that in doing what he desires will leave them both late which isn’t much of a concern for himself, but he doesn’t want to put Nadia in that position. So, he watches her in an ever-growing fondness as she skips upstairs to their room to get dressed.

Within an hour, both Ashton and Nadia are in the main foyer waiting for Vinny to arrive. Ashton is making sure his cufflinks (black with his initials in gold) are situated perfectly while Nadia is plucking off small pieces of lint that only she can see off his shoulders. Her hair is done up in a French chignon with some fly aways shaping her face.

“So, at precisely five forty-five you will be in your office waiting for me for dinner?” she asks, her eyebrows flicking up.

“If the meeting goes well, yes, I will be waiting anxiously for you at five forty-five itching with excitement to help you change into your new dress,” he winks.

“You’re terrible,” Nadia giggles gathering her bags in her arms and over her shoulders. “There won’t be room in our closet if you keep buying me all these dresses.”

“I could always have a new closet built for you,” he suggests tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“My own Barbie Dream Closet, huh?”

“If you say so, doll,” he grins bending down to give her a tender kiss. Nadia sighs into his affection, always welcoming it.

“People will think you dress me every morning,” she mumbles on his lips.

“I prefer to undress you,” his mouth travels to her ear. Nadia snickers and pushes on his chest, but his grip is tight on her forearm.

“You’ve been insatiable, lately,” she sighs in appreciation, “what’s gotten into you?”

Ashton’s lips freeze on her lobe as her words set in. He’s acting the way he did when he was eighteen with Liam, the feeling of losing control so he tried to combat it by fixating it on his sexual endeavors. He doesn’t want Nadia to be a part of that spectrum, but with Aleks Rozhkov coming at large and Liam reappearing, it seems he’s slipping into his old self.

“I’m sorry,” he huffs kissing her cheek innocently before pulling away. “Things have been tense at work.”

“We can talk about it at dinner, and Liam if you want. He’s a big part of this too, right?” Nadia frowns.

Ashton sighs, he desperately wants to tell her everything about his life. She’s been wrapped up in it with him for almost a year and a half. Could he tell her? Should he tell her? Before he can answer, there’s a swift knock on the front door, Vinny’s arrived and Ashton sighs again.

“We’ll talk at dinner. Have a good day and dance your heart out for me, okay?”

“I always do,” she smiles rising on her toes to give him a kiss. “I love you. Don’t work too hard.”

“I love you, too, angel,” he grins opening the door. “Vinny.”

“Hello sir,” Vinny greets. He’s a tall, very broad-shouldered man with a crew cut. He’s tough as nails but is sweet as pie to Nadia, much like everyone in Ashton’s mafia family is. “I’ll make sure she’s at the club right at five forty-five.”

“Thanks Vinny,” Ashton nods as he takes Nadia’s bags from her. “I’ll try to call or text around lunchtime, Nadia.”

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” she steals another kiss to his cheek then follows Vinny to his matte black Bentley Bentayga that is equipped with bulletproof doors and windows. A feature added thanks to Asana that eases Ashton’s worry when she’s away from him.

Ashton feels the ticking of his watch against his wrist as he watches Calum circle a new Snatcher in the middle of the interrogation room. When he arrived at La Belle Vie, Ashton immediately went to his office to listen to voicemails from the Sheriff’s department and the Guerriero’s requesting his and Nadia’s presence at their annual party. He was called into the interrogation room at eleven o’clock.

Calum has only received bits of information that don’t hold value to Ashton, the Snatcher’s name and his birthday, which Ashton has already forgotten. Michael and Luke have been eyeing Ashton throughout the whole altercation, waiting for his order to do something more or to take the situation into his own hands.

Ashton is exhausted. Each tick of his watch is another reminder that he’s missed his window to call Nadia and it’s left him on a dangerous edge. He wants answers and his fingers twitch at the thought of getting them himself.

“Should we turn the heat up on him?” Michael asks almost excitedly. Luke perks up next to him, this has been a boring questioning for all of them.

Ashton unbuttons his suit jacket, and immediately one of his other associates is beside him to help remove the jacket. He sets his jaw while rolling up his sleeves carefully, watching Calum as he’s bent in front of the Snatcher.

“Hang that up,” Ashton orders motioning to his jacket, “I have dinner plans tonight.” He steps into the square patch of light, revealing himself to the Snatcher who visibly gulps at his appearance. It makes Ashton smirk. “Why don’t you take a break Cal, get a drink.”

“You sure, boss? I just got my ring cleaned and wanted to test it out on this fucker,” Calum turns his fist in the light, his engraved ring that also matches Ashton’s initials engraved ring glimmers. Each member has their initials in a ring so they can leave their mark like Ashton, it’s a form of unity.

“Maybe later. You’ve been at this too long, let me see if I can get our friend here to talk.”

“You’re in for it now,” Calum grins devilishly at the Snatcher. He gives Ashton a quick glance then backs into the darkness.

Ashton cocks his head to the side, folding his arms over his chest as he inspects the Snatcher like a car he’s thinking of buying. He’s contemplating on how to proceed. The ticking of his clock is felt on his whole arm, a constant reminder that his Nadia is dancing.

“From what I’ve heard, you were quite easy to catch,” he begins. “Why’s that?”

“It was either get caught by your stupid men or fall off the building,” the man responds. “I didn’t want to die so this seemed like the lesser option.”

“Oh, you think so?” Ashton smirks. “If that’s the case, then why did you gulp when I showed up?” he walks around the man slowly, taking in his body language. His arms are bound tightly behind him on the back of the chair, but his body is full of tension, Ashton can see the sweat on his neck as he comes back around to his front. “You’ve heard things about me, right?” Ashton bends over to look into his eyes.

The man clears his throat and licks his lips averting his gaze from Ashton’s. “Maybe.”

“I’m curious as to how you think being brought to me is the lesser option,” Ashton stands straight again, planting his feet.

“Others have been let go and told to change their identity.”

Ashton stares at him for a long time, waiting for the punchline because that’s the furthest thing from the truth. When the punchline doesn’t come, Ashton shakes his head sighing.

“Who told you that? Your boss Aleks? Hate to break it—actually, no, I’d love to break it to you, Snatcher, but he’s been lying to you. I don’t let people go.”

“Then just kill me.”

“No…no, I don’t think I will,” Ashton rubs his chin as if in contemplative thought. “This could be your lucky day where I do let you go after you give me the information I ask for. This tough act of mine could be just that, right? An act? So, tell me what Aleks is doing in my city again after being silent and you’ll be on your merry way to Mexico or wherever you think your other Snatcher fiends have disappeared to.”

There’s silence for a long moment, Ashton waits patiently. The ticking against his wrist feels harder, sounds louder, and it just makes him angrier that he couldn’t call Nadia on her lunch break. He can’t let that show right now, he wants the Snatcher to think he’ll walk free and release Aleks’ information.

“I have all day here,” he sighs, “I can order food and drink and enjoy it right in front of you until you talk. Because you will talk. Sandy beaches calling your name and all that.”

“It’s… it has nothing to do with you,” the Snatcher finally says, shoulders falling in defeat.

“What has nothing to do with me? You need to be more specific.”

“He—Aleks, he wants….” He shifts in his chair, but it only tightens the restraints on his body.

“What does he want?” Ashton implores stepping closer.

“He wants Nadia.”

Ashton fights to keep his composure while his associates react to that information and the ticking against his skin isn’t helping as it sounds a lot like her name. Na-dia, Na-dia, tick, tick. He inhales deeply through his nose.

“What does he want with her?”

“He’s getting paid from some anonymous person with a lot of money. They say she dances like no one has ever seen before.”

“What does this anonymous dealer plan to do?”

“Aleks will get paid in full and the anonymous person will kill her.”

Ashton flexes his fingers walking behind the Snatcher again, so he won’t see Ashton shaking with rage. He looks to Michael who understands what he wants without a word; to check on Nadia with Vinny. Michael exits the interrogation room with his phone already pressed to his ear.

Ashton regains his composure then circles back in front of the Snatcher; he rests his hands on the arms of the chair peering at him with a look that could honestly kill.

“What is the point of wanting her then killing her?” Ashton hates speaking the words out loud, it leaves a vile taste in his mouth.

“Aleks negotiated he’d have her as his own tiny dancer before sending her off to the anonymous dealer.”

Ashton stares him down, his anger boiling as the ticking of his watch persists. When he stands to full height he walks back around the chair just as Michael comes back into the room nodding his head that Nadia is all right.

“When does he plan on executing this plan?” Ashton’s voice is leveled.

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head vigorously which in part shakes his whole body. “Can I go now? I told you everything I know.”

Ashton slips his gun from his shoulder holster meticulously; he runs his fingers over his initials on the grip.

“You’re wrong again, because if it’s about Nadia,” he bends down so his mouth is level with the Snatcher’s ear, “it has everything to do with me. It isn’t your lucky day after all.” In one swift motion, Ashton stands straight releasing the safety and pulls the trigger into the back of the Snatcher’s head. “You would’ve been better off falling off that building.” The Snatcher’s body crumples forward as the shot echoes throughout the room. “Put the lights on please. Clean this mess up.”

He holsters his gun while extending his arm for his jacket that is placed over his forearm and he leaves the room. Noises of his associates springing into action follow him up the stairs to the bar. Calum is sitting near the edge of the bar as if waiting for Ashton to ascend.

“Ready for me?” Calum asks rising from his seat.

“He’s taken care of,” Ashton mumbles continuing to walk past him towards his office. Calum is quick to follow, knowing to remain silent in the elevator until they’re in the safety of his office.

Ashton tosses his jacket over the back of the couch moving to his drink cart and pours himself brandy in a crystal glass. He swallows it in one pull before he pours another then sits himself at his desk. Calum approaches him carefully.

“What’d you find out?” Calum asks sitting in one of his chairs.

Ashton circles the rim of the glass with his finger. “An anonymous dealer is paying Aleks to capture Nadia. Aleks plans to use her as his own tiny dancer before sending her off to the dealer who will then kill her.”

“What for?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton murmurs, removing his finger from the glass then sits back in his chair. Calum’s brows are furrowed in thought. “The Snatcher didn’t know anything else. Security is going to be tripled, and I’m going to contact Hotchkiss to be on high alert.”

“But Nadia’s all right?”

“I wouldn’t be here if she weren’t. I don’t want to alarm her, but I’m sending more men to her dance class to be safe until Vinny brings her back here.”

“What about her performance of Romeo and Juliet? That’s in a few days, isn’t it?”

“Shit,” Ashton hisses. He sighs deeply twisting his engraved ring. “I’ll have to tell her she can’t do it. I’m not risking her getting taken right under my nose.”

“She’s not going to like that, mate,” Calum shakes his head.

“Quite frankly, I don’t give a damn. Her safety has always been my top priority, you know that, and she knows that.”

There’s a knock at the door and Peter, the best of Ashton’s waitstaff, enters swiftly.

“Sorry sir, this was delivered, and I was told to personally hand it to you,” Peter says holding out a square envelope.

Ashton takes it from him, inspecting his name scrawled on the front. “Thank you, Peter.” He cuts it open with his letter opener to see it’s an invitation. In a sloping font on hard parchment are the words:

Liam Payne requests the presence of Ashton Irwin and Nadia Sharapova at his favored residence of King’s Club at eight o’clock. Mr. Payne will be on the second floor.

Ashton curses and tosses the invitation across his desk. Calum picks it up, reads through it quickly then glances up at his friend, his boss, with eyebrows raised.

“So, he is back, then?”

“He wants to help take down Rozhkov apparently. I’ll go but Nadia isn’t coming.”

“You were just saying how you wanted security tripled. You know you’ll be more focused on her wellbeing than talking with Liam. Why don’t you want her to go?”

“He showed a little too much interest for my liking.”

Calum’s lips twitch. “Everyone shows a little too much interest in Nadia for your liking. She should go with you; I know how Liam being here is derailing you, but she helps keep you at ease. Security will still be tight, but if you don’t bring her she’ll know something’s up.”

Ashton sighs because he knows Calum is right. Nadia does keep him grounded and with the new information of requesting her kidnapping, he’d be a fool to let her out of his sight.

***

It’s the night before Nadia will be joining Ashton to Italy. She arrived home—how strange it is to call Ashton’s home hers and even stranger that it felt so natural—from ballet class to see bags set aside to the entrance of the kitchen. Curious, she inspects them closer to see one of them has a tag with her name on it. Ashton must have packed for her.

On the counter she saw his wallet and keys and a note of their flight departure, she noticed a passport wasn’t present. Had he forgotten she doesn’t have a passport? Nadia looks all over the counter and the kitchen table for the small blue book but saw nothing and decides to head upstairs in search of Ashton.

There’s low music coming from his room, the door partially closed. She knocks before opening it and doesn’t see Ashton. She steps in a bit further peering into his closet that was open to the right when the bathroom door swings open behind her.

“Nadia?”

“Oh!” she jumps turning around then gasps when she sees Ashton wearing nothing, but a black towel held in his fist on his waist. She ogles at his bare torso, the chains of his necklace shining with his tattoos on full display over his muscular stomach. Her eyes continue to travel over his perfectly curled chest hair down as it disappears in a thin trail passed his bellybutton. There are some scars littered about his skin that she wants to know each story of.

“Is everything all right?” he asks, fist tightening on the towel.

“Um, I’m sorry. I…uhh, I was…” she stutters forcing her eyes back up to his hazel ones that are dead set on her. Her cheeks warm by being caught gawking and clears her throat, “I saw things were packed downstairs but didn’t see a passport for me.”

“It will be on the jet tomorrow morning, don’t worry,” he smiles moving to his dresser. He pulls open a drawer, the muscles in his back flexing with the motion and Nadia’s mouth goes dry. There’s another tattoo on the back of his neck, some type of bird that piques her interest once more. Her eyes follow the slope of his back downward, stopping at the towel where she can see the outline of his ass. He turns around, his expression amused. “Is that all?”

His voice snaps her gaze away and she wishes the earth would open up and swallow her whole. How embarrassing to be caught not just once, but twice at checking out his body.

“That’s all,” she clears her throat once more then walks briskly to the door. “Um, thank you. Sorry.”

She rushes into her room, snapping the door closed behind her and touches her hands to her burning hot cheeks. The first thing she’d noticed about Ashton was how incredibly handsome he is, but she never thought of him without a shirt on. Now that she’s seen him—muscles, tattoos and all—that’s all she sees when she closes her eyes when she’s in bed.

The next morning, Ashton and Nadia arrive at the plane hangar just as the sun is starting to rise from the horizon. Nadia’s only flown on a plane a handful of times, but this is the first time she’ll be on a private jet. She’s still trying to figure out exactly what Ashton does; is he a CEO of some major company she’s never heard of? With all the security (there’s about half a dozen standing outside the plane) she almost wonders if he’s a Prince of some sort.

He motions her forward up the steps, she uses the railing to steady herself because without it she would fall to her knees in disbelief that she’s boarding a private plane. Once inside, it’s decorated the way she thought it would be in dark maroons, blacks and accents of gold. Ashton certainly has a desired taste.

“Pick any seat,” he tells her quietly.

Nadia moves a little bit more towards the back near the bathroom and sits down on the plush leather seat, her fingers rub over the fabric.

“My passport—”

“Is up with the Captain. You’ll get it just as we land,” he nods placing his phone on the seat across the aisle from her. He glances at her to see she’s sitting on her hands, legs shaking as she gazes out the plane window. “Are you nervous?” he moves to the seat across from her.

“A little,” she pulls her lip in her mouth, smiling bashfully. “I’m not too sure why.”

“If it’s your safety you’re concerned about, you’ll be well protected,” he leans forward resting his hand over her knee, “I promise.”

Nadia nods just as commotion from the front of the plane is heard, Calum and a strikingly beautiful woman with long dark hair held in a pony atop her head and skin to match board. Ashton removes his hand as Calum and the woman approach. The simple touch left Nadia’s knee burning, and she had to shift her mind from envisioning him in only his towel.

“Nadia, you remember Calum?” Ashton asks and Nadia stands from her seat, smiling to Calum. “And this is Asana, she’s one of my best specialists.”

“I’m the best,” Asana smiles then holds out her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Nadia.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nadia shakes her hand, “What do you specialize in?”

“Weapons,” Asana answers simply, Ashton sucks in a breath that doesn’t go unnoticed by Nadia. “The company buys, sells and trades weapons and I know which ones are worth keeping or selling. I hear you’re a dancer. How’d that start?”

Asana sits in the seat Ashton recently occupied and Nadia sits back down in her own.

“I was four when I started dancing and I picked it up super easily. Dancing has always been a part of me, and I dance with the Chamber City Company,” Nadia explains.

“Do you have any shows coming up? I’d love to see you dance.”

“Sleeping Beauty will be premiering in a couple of weeks,” she says glancing quickly to Ashton who appears to be in deep conversation with Calum. “I’m the Lilac Fairy.”

“Oh, how pretty. When’s opening night? I want to be front and center.”

Nadia continues to answer Asana’s questions and asks a bit of her own as well. Asana has been with Ashton’s company for almost four years, she sought him out when she discovered his company is number one in the business. Nadia feels a comradeship with Asana instantly, she’s easy to talk to and is excited to learn more about her on this little trip.

Nadia tries to listen in on Ashton and Calum’s conversation about their meeting, but the only thing she hears is that it’s with someone named Guerriero. Eventually, as the flight continues and meals are had, she becomes sleepy and curls up against the seat.

When she wakes to use the bathroom, Ashton is still awake on his phone as she passes by his seat. Her stomach grumbles a little while she washes her hands, back home she’d be in Ashton���s office with a bowl of popcorn. Nadia returns to her seat to find a small bag of popcorn on her pillow accompanied by another blanket. She looks to Ashton who gives her a smile then pops his own piece of popcorn into his mouth, an opened bag sits in his lap.

“Thank you,” Nadia whispers with a smile and sits back in her seat pulling apart the bag.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers back, eyes crinkling and shining in the blue light of his phone.

“You should go to sleep.”

“I will soon, just a few more e-mails.”

Nadia sighs shaking her head but watches him silently as she eats her small bag of popcorn. After a few minutes, Ashton looks up at her.

“You should sleep, Nadia. I don’t want you to have jet lag.”

“You should, too, Ashton.” Her lips spread in a playful smile and Ashton chuckles.

“All right, fine. When we’re done with our popcorn, we’ll both go to sleep. I heard you’re going to be in a show, soon?” he pockets his phone in his suit jacket then picks up his popcorn bag.

“Yeah, opening night is in two weeks from today actually, or tomorrow depending where we are in the world.”

“Would it be all right if I came and watched?”

“I’d like that,” she nods watching the way his jaw muscle works as he chews. “Asana said she’d like to come as well.”

“Then I’m sure Calum would like a ticket,” he grins.

The popcorn is finished in comfortable silence, Nadia drifts off to sleep easily and Ashton stays awake a little longer but he’s not answering e-mails. He’s on the Chamber City Company’s website buying the whole front row of seats and a large bouquet of flowers to be sent to Nadia on opening night. He glances at her while she sleeps, her long brown hair cascading over her shoulder looking soft as silk. He wonders if she thinks about their post shower interaction as much as he does.

The first two days of staying at Ashton’s villa in Italy are spent sleeping on and off by Nadia due to the jetlag. Ashton secretly favored this because he knew she’d be safer in the house with Asana. He made sure a chef cooked her three meals a day while he was with Calum discussing terms with the Guerriero’s and that there was popcorn stocked.

On the third day, Asana finds Nadia out by the pool basking in the sun. She sits on the pool chair beside her frowning.

“What’s up?” Nadia asks.

“Do you want to go shopping? I know Ashton wants you to stay here so you’re safe, but you’re in Italy! There’s a club Ashton and Calum are going to that’s always a good time. Please, Nadia, you’re killing me being cooped up in this villa while we’re in Europe,” Asana urges.

Nadia laughs softly and considers Asana’s suggestion.

“I do want to explore a bit…will Ashton be mad?”

She has seen him beat up three men when they first met after all, but he never raised his voice at her, and how could he expect her to stay inside while in a beautiful country? She’s upset that she wasted the first two days sleeping off her jetlag but that couldn’t be helped. There’s a feeling in her stomach almost nagging at her not to do it but another voice in her head is telling her this is probably a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“What if he does get mad?”

“I’ll handle him,” Asana holds out her hand, “come take a walk on the wild side.”

The pair venture out exploring the city and shop in almost every boutique they walk past. Asana made sure she had some security with them and had her own weapons hidden very discreetly on her person. She can handle Ashton no problem, but she’s seen him furious and hopes that her extra thought to protection would ease him up a bit.

After their quick dinner of true pasta cuisine, they arrive back at the villa to see Ashton waiting for them at the front door. He disappears inside, Asana and Nadia exchange a look before trekking up the steps after him, shopping bags jostling against each other before setting them down on the floor.

“I thought we agreed you’d stay in the villa?” his voice is low and controlled. Nadia can hear the slight aggravation in it though.

“If it was while I was sleeping than that’s not fair, I wasn’t that coherent,” Nadia defends crossing her arms. “I wanted to see more of Italy than out of these windows.”

“She was perfectly—” Asana begins but Calum clears his throat from the stairs. He shakes his head then motions her to come join him. Asana sighs moving next to him and Nadia is alone in front of Ashton.

“It’s dangerous Nadia, and I need to know you’re safe here.”

“What was the point of me being here if I can’t leave? I’m not your prisoner.”

“The point,” he steps forward, his jaw set and his eyes dark. Nadia stands her ground but can understand how intimidating he is to everyone else. “Is that you don’t get hurt. It’s the last night and you’re going to stay here. End of discussion.”

He stalks away down the hall with Calum following him. Nadia turns to Asana who has an apologetic smile. Nadia lifts up her bags of new clothes, grabs Asana’s hand moving upstairs.

“We’re going to that club.”

Ashton is listening to Angelo Guierrero over the pulsating music of the club, his eyes gliding over the dancing bodies below. The VIP suite is filled with members of both mafia families and the drinks keep flowing as women keep interloping between the men in seats. At his vantage point he has perfect view of the entrance and his heart plummets into his stomach when he sees Nadia enter with Asana.

“I am glad we have uh…how you say, come to agreement,” Angelo continues holding out his gold ring covered hand.

“I am too, Angelo,” Ashton responds shaking the man’s hand, his eyes darting away quickly from Nadia. “Do you mind if we enjoy the rest of our evening? No more business talk, yeah?”

Angelo gives out a hearty laugh squeezing Ashton’s hand.

“Si, si! Divertitevi!”

Ashton rises from his armchair leaning on the railing as he watches Nadia press through the bodies. He’s torn between anger and amazement that she disobeyed him by coming here. She looks exquisite in a sparkly maroon dress, her cleavage shimmers in the strobe lights while she dances to the music which is ironically a remixed version of Sexy Chick. Her flowing brown hair falls over her shoulder in a long ponytail while her back is exposed from the dress, and Ashton sees a tattoo inked along her spine.

He’s hypnotized by her movements, her arms are thrown into the air as she dances, her body fluid as water. It makes him want to see her dance ballet desperately. Calum joins his side who sighs in disappointment observing the two women in the middle of the dance floor.

“Do you think Asana convinced her to come?” Calum asks.

“No,” Ashton murmurs watching Nadia move seductively to the beat. Her eyes glide up to meet his and she gives him a sly smile. “This was Nadia’s decision.”

The two men watch Nadia and Asana dance and drink together for a few more songs until Ashton can’t stand it anymore and moves to the stairs without a goodbye to Angelo. He wants to get Nadia out of here and back to villa where she can’t get into trouble. She’s already in trouble with him but he’s not quite sure if he’ll reprimand her yet as he pushes through the hot sweaty bodies.

As he approaches her, there’s a man that’s trying to pull Nadia against him to dance but she’s clearly trying to push him away. Asana is cornered by two other men, but Ashton knows she’ll have them on their asses in about thirty seconds. When Ashton finally approaches, he shoves the man away grabbing Nadia’s wrist and drags her out of the club.

“What is your problem?!” she shrieks trying to twist her free of his vice-like grip.

“I told you stay at the villa,” he responds through his teeth.

“For my protection, right? What exactly are you protecting me from?”

Ashton ignores her as she continues to resist and yell drunkenly at him until they’re to his car. Calum and Asana’s voices carry over to them when he opens the door, pushing her inside.

“I’m not a child,” she glowers at him.

“You’re sure acting like one,” he growls back.

“Sorry, sir,” she snarls clambering into the car.

Ashton sets his jaw then shuts the door in her face. He slides into the driver seat easily, waiting for Asana and Calum to join them in the car.

Once everyone is settled, he peels away from the curb zooming back to the villa. He glances at her in the rearview mirror, his anger dissipates each time he looks back. He tries not to let his eyes wander over her long legs, but he fails miserably. They look smooth as satin and he’s desperate for a touch, but he tightens his hand on the steering wheel.

Back at the villa, Nadia storms out of the car slamming the door harshly in her wake. Asana glares at Ashton and Calum before following her inside. Ashton doesn’t see either of them until it’s time to drive back to the jet the next afternoon. Nadia won’t look or speak to him.

*

Nadia’s opening night is in a few days and in between that time and coming back from Italy, she still hasn’t spoken to Ashton, she’s been very cold and distant. Ashton had decided to be the one to drive her to practice and to her ballet class she teaches. At one point she looked like she was about to say something when he told her that bit of news, but she remained tight lipped, nodded, and walked away to her room.

Thankfully, when she accompanied him to La Belle Vie she would join Asana at the bar and talk with her. The two have become incredibly close since their rendezvous in Italy. Nadia’s laughter always follows him as he greets other associates in the bar area before inviting them to his office.

Nadia watches him disappear through the secret door to his office, his hazel eyes meeting her warm brown. For a moment she forgets she’s upset with him, that he treated her like a child by dragging her from the club in such a manner and forcing her to stay inside like she was a grounded teenager. Then she remembers how little he made her feel and her bitterness is returned.

“He’s very protective of people he cares about,” Asana tries to reason.

“He didn’t yell at you and drag you out,” Nadia mutters.

“That’s because he knows I would kick his ass. Don’t worry, I got a mouthful from Calum,” she shakes her head then gulps down the rest of her dirty martini easily.

“What’s going on between you and Calum, anyway?” Nadia peers at her friend with a slight smirk.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Asana winks then pops her olive into her mouth. “Probably the same thing that’s going on between you and Ashton.”

It’s Nadia’s turn to blush.

She’s not entirely sure what’s going between her and Ashton. There’s no doubt some form of chemistry between them, but there’s so many secrets he’s keeping. She appreciates his protection but the way he treated her at the club was almost insulting. She’s not some fragile doll that will break.

The next morning, she speaks to Ashton for the first time telling him she’ll be at the studio late.

“What for?” he asks scrolling through his e-mails and drinking his coffee.

“I want to make sure I have all my variations down.”

“Opening night is tomorrow; won’t you be tired if you have to be at the theater by five?” his eyebrows raise, and Nadia is taken aback at his knowledge of her schedule.

“No, I won’t be. So, you don’t have to stay while I dance. I’ll call you when I’m finished.”

“I’ll stay. No need for me running around and leave you there unprotected.”

Nadia sighs in defeat, she knows fighting him on this will only end in his victory. She’s not nervous about the performance at all, she’s more nervous about having Ashton seeing her dance.

At five thirty on the dot, Ashton enters the dance studio where Nadia teaches the smaller students. He holds the door open for the dance moms and dads as their little one’s prance along the sidewalk. Nadia is cleaning up small ribbons from the floor when he notices her.

“Can you lock the door for me, please?” she asks, and Ashton complies. “There’s a small office through that door you can use. You don’t have to sit out here and be distracted.”

“All right, let me know when you’re ready to go.”

As soon as Ashton settles in the quaint office area and has his phone opened to his e-mails, orchestra music starts to play, and he looks out the window of the door to see Nadia dancing. She’s everything he’s pictured in his head but so much more. He can see the true power in her body as she moves fluidly, her muscles pronounced in her movements.

He loses the concept of time as he watches her glide across the floor, he’s transfixed by her and realizes how deep his attraction and care for her truly runs. He rises from his seat, opens the door and the music fills his ears. With careful steps he moves towards Nadia, her legs lifting high in the air as she moves closer and closer to him.

She comes to an abrupt stop right into his arms, gasping at him being there. Her fingers squeeze on his suit covered bicep while his hand braces her lower back, her brown eyes shift to meet his honey green tea colored ones.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, chest heaving from dancing. “Is the music too distracting?”

“No,” Ashton shakes his head pulling a stray strand of her hair from her lips. “You’re distracting, I haven’t gotten anything done since you started dancing.”

“I’m sorry,” she tries to push away from him, “we can go—”

“Not yet, I have something to do first.”

“What?”

In an instant, Ashton dips his head to kiss her and as soon as their lips touch an electric shock is exchanged. Nadia hadn’t realized how desperately she wanted to kiss him until now and now she doesn’t want to stop. She gasps on his mouth letting him guide the kiss how he wants, her stomach filled with butterflies.

The hand that’s not on her back slides up her thigh underneath the practice skirt she’s wearing giving her chills at his touch. Nadia rises on her toes and Ashton lifts her in the air, their lips still connected in passion. Her legs wrap around his waist, she can feel his strong muscles as he holds her.

Already wanting to be closer to him, she tries to work open the buttons on his shirt and Ashton halts their kiss settling her back down on the floor.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Stop apologizing,” he holds her jaw in his hand, his thumb brushing over her lower lip. “The reason I stopped is because what I want to do with you shouldn’t be done in an open window studio.” He feels her shiver at his hushed words, and he smirks. “Let’s go home.”

*

Ashton leads Nadia through the skyway hand in hand, the sun is just setting below the trees and they’re cast in a burning red glow. Her stomach twists in anticipation at what’s about to come as they enter his bedroom. Cloaked in red, he pushes her to the edge of his bed, his fingers lifting up her skintight shirt. She pushes off his suit jacket, eyes widening at the shiny gun secured to his stomach.

“Let me put this away,” he tells her covering the weapon with his hand, “and you take this off for me, hm?” his finger dips below the waistband of her skirt. His finger leaves her skin ablaze.

Eyes glued to each other, he watches her pull her skirt down and off her legs, followed by her leggings so she’s standing only in her bra and panties. Ashton groans slightly as she pulls her hair out from the low bun, it cascades over her breasts in dark waves. When he’s finished with the proper safety precautions with his gun, he locks it in his case. He stalks towards her, unbuttoning his shirt then tosses it to the floor. She looks so tempting in the red glow of the night, she’s the epitome of desire and he wants a taste.

“Can you take the rest off for me?” his eyes gesture to her bra and panties. Nadia’s quick to comply, the air of dominance in his voice is apparent yet not forceful. His questions always give her an option for an out if she wishes. She slips her bra off slowly, relishing in the way his eyes practically devour her before pulling down her panties. “Sit down.”

Again, she obeys then Ashton falls to his knees in front of her. He spreads her legs open so he can lean up and give her a burning kiss, his tongue swiping in her mouth. She kisses him back in excitement, hands sliding over his shoulders and into his hair. His fingers tickle up her thighs to her waist, he pulls his lips from hers and smiles as she chases for more of his kiss.

“I’m going to make you feel good, okay?” he pants, and she nods, her fingers tightening in his hair. “Lay down.” She lays back and he falls with her because of her hold on his hair but he leaves sucking kisses down her sternum to her lower stomach.

He lifts her legs so her feet rest on the end of the bed, his nose skims up her thigh then he transitions to the other thigh.  He kisses on her pubic bone and Nadia sucks in a harsh breath. Ashton wraps his arms around her thighs, then flattens his tongue against her core in one long, slow stroke. Her body lurches from the contact. It makes Ashton smile glancing up at her as her eyes close when he stretches his tongue on her lips again.

He dips his tongue lower, teasing her entrance then adds his lips to finally get a full taste. Nadia gasps, her thighs tightening around his head. Ashton moves in quick motions, flicking his tongue against her clit then suctions his mouth on her, eating her out vigorously. She rotates her hips with his mouth, her moans sound quiet and restrained so Ashton pulls his mouth from her.

“Nadia, look at me,” he says kissing up her thigh lazily. Her eyes open heavily. “Don’t hold back. When you orgasm, you’re going to say ‘thank you’ after each one. Then I know you’re feeling good. Understand?” she nods, and he nips at her thigh which makes her yelp. “Tell me.”

“Under…I understand, sir,” she gulps breathless.

“Good girl, I love when you call me that,” he mutters lowering his face to her exposed core. He teases her by ghosting his mouth over her pussy lips, inhaling her in. “Taste better than I imagined,” he sighs then dives right back in. Nadia gasps, circling her hips with his mouth again, back arching as his tongue licks the right spot.

Her thighs quake as she comes on his mouth, he slurps at her excitedly tightening his fingers on her thighs until they relax but Ashton doesn’t let up.

“Thank you,” she sighs quietly.

He hums against her, his tongue circling her clit while he adds a finger inside her. The moan she makes causes the strain in his pants become noticeable, but he ignores it to please her more. He pumps his finger inside her easily, curling it then tickling her spongy wall as his tongue frantically licks.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he sighs.

She’s wriggling beneath him, thighs clenching once more and her orgasm leaks on his tongue and finger. This orgasm lasts slightly longer, her whimpering drives him crazy and he needs to be inside her. He slides his finger out, sucking her taste off him as he does, and her body deflates against the bed. Ashton wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, appreciating the way she looks coming down.

He removes his clothes quickly, slipping on a condom then lifts her up placing her in the middle of his bed. Nadia lifts her legs so he can slot himself in between her thighs, he kisses up her stomach, tongue swirling over her nipple then he hovers above her, his arms on either side of her head.

“You forgot something, angel,” he sighs kissing her neck. “What do you say?”

“Thank you,” she responds automatically. He smiles, happy with her quick submission to him. He drops his hips against hers, she lets out an impatient huff. “Please, Ashton…need you.”

Ashton plants his knees on the bed pushing her legs up farther, the head of his dick nudging inside and clipping her clit. Her nails are scratching up the sides of his back urging him further until he bottoms out then begins an even rhythm. Nadia’s fingers slope up his back, meeting his thrusts evenly then he kisses her. He pushes her legs even further to her elbows so he can pound into her with ease and power.

“A-ash,” she pants, nails digging into his back.

He fists the comforter as he tries to keep his release at bay, he’s concentrating on his breathing but it’s so hard when she’s clenching around him. Her nails add another sensation he’s never felt, it’s pulling the burn for her from the inside out.

“Thank you, oh…Ash,” she whimpers in his neck and he quickly pulls out, flipping her over onto her stomach with ease.

He roams his hands over her ass then to her hips, dragging her closer. He slides into her easily, picking up a quick pace of fucking her from behind. From this angle he can see the tattoo inked up her spine, he glides his fingers over the intricate looped design and the flower that rests between her shoulder blades. Nadia’s moans are consistent at this angle, he feels her multiple orgasms lubricating him up, so he’s slick with her juices making it easier to snap his hips against her.

She’s pushing herself onto him, aiding in her release while a quick succession of ‘thank yous’ tumble from her lips. Ashton’s climax is approaching fast, so he leans forward, propelling his pelvis in quick movements. His nose is in her hair, he’s intoxicated by her smell, her pussy clenching around him as he finally lets go. She’s moaning with his groans until he’s finished then remains there for a moment catching his breath.

With kisses to her shoulder and down her back, he pulls out then steps off the bed. He removes the condom tossing it quickly into his bathroom trash. Nadia is still slumped over, her ass in the air and he loves the sight. He gives her a moment, pulling on some shorts and grabs a shirt for her to sleep in.

“Hey, look at me pretty girl,” he coos gently, brushing her hair from her face. She stares at him with tired eyes. “Put this on, use the bathroom and come back to bed.”

Her movements are sluggish as she flips onto her back taking the shirt from him. He helps her pull it over her head and pulls her arms out. She takes his offered hands leading her to the bathroom. He closes the door for her privacy then lays on his bed, the sun has well gone down now but the city lights and moon fill his room with a dim radiance. That fiery red haze is gone but he still feels it in his bones.

Nadia shuffles slowly back to his bed after using the bathroom and he welcomes her into his arms, she snuggles against him as if they’ve been doing this for years instead of the first time. He kisses her hair and she sighs contentedly.

“Now I might be tired for opening night,” she teases and Ashton laughs. “You’ve never done this, have you?”

“Slept with a beautiful woman like you? No, not until now.”

“No—I mean, you’ve never brought someone back here to your own bed. It’s always been in your room at La Belle Vie.”

Ashton sighs. “No, I haven’t. How did you know about that?”

“I know about the Gold Room, why else would you have a bedroom in your office?”

His heart sinks. Does she think she’s just another notch in his belt?

“Nadia, I’ve grown to adore and care for you in a way I’ve never felt towards another person,” he admits, and it feels so good to say it out loud. “You’re very special to me.”

She tilts her head up, her hand finding his cheek in the dim light then drags his mouth to hers for a sweet kiss.

“You’re special to me, too. I’m glad no other woman has been in your bed but me.”

The next night for her opening night as the Lilac Fairy went by without a hitch. All of Ashton’s associates filled the front row seats that he bought with Calum and Asana to his left while Luke and Michael were on his right. His eyes never left Nadia as she danced across the stage. Her name was whispered amongst the people around him and he felt smug that he’s the only one who knows her so intimately.

An hour before the show, Calum told him that Aleks has been keeping a low profile. There haven’t been any purchases on his end or deals that have been scheduled. It left Ashton feeling unsettled because if he knows Aleks, he’s plotting something for sure.

It’s in the background of his mind to set up more eyes on the Rozhkov mansion but Nadia’s performance is on the foreground of his mind. He’s transfixed by her just as last night but the stage lights and the make-up she’s wearing exemplifies her beauty. When the show is over, he plans on taking her to Caesar’s Palace, the most notorious restaurant in the city, after congratulating her in her dressing room on a job well done.

***

Five forty-five on the dot, Nadia breezes into his office with a radiant smile that grows bigger at the sight of the garment bag hanging from his fingers. Ashton grins back welcoming her into his free arm giving her a hello kiss that she deepens, hands roaming over his shoulders and into his hair.

“What’s the matter?” she sighs pulling away feeling how tense he is under her touch. “Did your meeting not go well?”

Ashton clenches his jaw. “It went good and bad, but we have to go to The King’s Club at eight o’clock, Liam’s requested us.”

“Oh, all right,” she shrugs then eyes the dress bag hanging off his fingers. “Can I see my dress?”

“I thought you don’t want to be seen as a sugar baby, angel,” he teases extending his arm away from her grabby fingers. “I can always send it back if you don’t want it.”

“No, please I want to see,” she pouts.

“How about you take it in the bedroom and put it on for me then let me know what you think,” he smiles handing her the bag.

She squeals quietly, snatching the bag the same time she pecks his lips then skirts to his bedroom but keeps the door open. Ashton shakes his head knowing she’s doing that to torment him, but he resists temptation and waits patiently. When he hears her gasp, he knows she’s opened the bag.

“What do you think?” he calls crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s gorgeous!”

He smiles then continues to wait patiently for her to change and grace him with her presence. It’s not long until she’s strutting out in the tight-fitting iridescent dress. It’s two toned with gold and silver fabric with the gold wrapping asymmetrically over the silver and Nadia looks like a bombshell. The colors contrast beautifully with her tanned skin and the plunging neckline showcases her perfect breasts.

“This is perfect, I love it,” her eyes dance with excitement as she parades in front of him.

“You sure? I didn’t know if this area right here would fit you,” he trails his finger down the middle of her ample cleavage, a smirk ghosts his lips.

“Seems like you didn’t really want it to fit,” she giggles then pulls his arms off his chest. “How can I ever thank you for this?” Her hands move to his belt already undoing the buckle and snatching his zipper, falling to her knees.

“Seems like you already have an idea,” he grins enjoying the view of her breasts even more at this angle.

“Just a little thought,” she shrugs shucking his trousers off his hips. She takes him in her palm, he’s hot and heavy in her hand and she gives the head of his dick the gentlest kiss, but it spurs his member to life. She continues to give him soft, wet kisses, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

Ashton strokes his fingers across her cheek trying to keep his breathing even. “Don’t tease me, angel,” he sighs just as she darts her tongue over his slit. “Fuck, baby.”

He watches her open her mouth, eyes still on him, as she takes him in. Her tongue and lips are soft and warm around him as she swirls her tongue up and over his shaft. She works him over, salivating the more she takes him into her mouth until he hits the back of her throat for the smallest second before she tightens her lips on his shaft and pulls off him with a pop. A string of spit clings to her lips and Ashton is aching to be in her mouth again.

“So pretty like this,” he sighs as she wraps her lips around his head again. This time she sucks him into her mouth as she goes down, slightly gagging as he hits the back of her throat once more before she pulls off again. Ashton threads his fingers in her hair, halting her from moving forward. “Don’t strain yourself for me, okay?”

“I want to make you feel good, sir,” she blinks and Ashton groans. She knows what calling him does that to him.

“You always make me feel good. Don’t hurt yourself, Nadia. Keep going,” he nods.

Nadia smiles excitedly latching her puckered lips over his tip, her hand grasping the base that is now slick with her spit. Her hand and mouth work in tandem, sliding up and down effortlessly slurping as she goes. Ashton steadies his breathing keeping his climax at bay so he can enjoy his Nadia this way. His fingers are still in her hair but he’s giving her full control of the situation.

She takes him all the way to the back of her throat for a third time, her tongue clicking against him. The pulsation has his stomach clenching and he’s so close.

“C’mere,” he says gruffly pulling her off him. He spins her around, so she’s seated at the edge of his desk and hooks her leg over his waist sinking into her swiftly. He fucks into her with quick snaps of his hips, groaning against her neck.

She gasps in time with his thrusts, arms and legs wrapping around him like a vine as he fills her with the utmost pleasure. Ashton bites into her neck, sucking on the warm flesh until she’s screaming his name and they’re coming together. He stills inside her as he releases himself dry and her legs fall limp against the desk.

Ashton hums pulling his mouth from her neck that now has a dark bloom flourishing from his love bite. He cradles her cheeks in his hands, nudges his nose against hers then kisses her with a smile. He pulls out of her slowly, Nadia groaning as he does.

“See? Felt so good,” he sighs, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” she whispers on his lips, legs trembling from the loss of his girth. He tucks himself back into his pants as she leans against him, still coming down from their shared pleasure.

Ashton makes sure she’s stable against the desk before retrieving a towel from the sink along his wall. He wets it then makes his way over to her again to clean between her legs. He kisses her bare shoulder as he does, her hand rests on his shoulder for balance.

“Good thing you didn’t have panties on,” he commends on the corner of her mouth. He tosses the towel on his desk, rubbing his palm on her inner thigh.

“I planned it,” she smiles.

When their dinner date is over Ashton speeds to The King’s Club, his hand on Nadia’s knee as he drives to the destination. He’s second guessing gifting her with this dress because now all eyes will be on her. He holds her hand as they walk past the black velvet ropes and two bouncers that he recognized from his past. They let him in easily and others inside guided him and Nadia to the second floor where Liam is waiting on a white couch. Veronica is next to him looking bored.

To Ashton’s surprise, Calum and Asana are sitting on chairs beside him. Nadia smiles at them tugging a preserved Ashton over to them, his eyes are on Liam who is smiling widely.

“You made it!” he announces rising from his couch. “Last minute I invited Calum and Asana who just finished informing me that you two had dinner plans. I hope I didn’t cut into that.”

“Just a little,” Ashton responds tersely. Nadia squeezes his hand.

“It’s no trouble,” she speaks up.

Liam steps forward grabbing her elbow and kisses her cheek affectionately in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it. Please, take a seat, take a seat. What would you like to drink?”

When the acquired drinks are served, Ashton watches Liam very closely as he interacts with Nadia. He’s somehow pulled her next to him on the couch with his arm thrown casually behind her shoulders. He’s telling her about how he and Ashton bonded over the loss of their fathers and all the wild things they got into.

Ashton watches on high alert, his drink held carelessly in his fingers. He feels smug when Liam notices the love mark on Nadia’s neck. Calum and Asana’s gazes are set on their boss wondering how he is so calm while Liam is so close to Nadia. Ashton assesses the situation with a tight jaw but Nadia’s constant smiles at him lets him know she’s fine.

Calum and Asana are getting restless. Then when Liam laughs loudly at something Nadia said, his hand falls to her knee, Ashton slams his drink on the glass table.

“I think it’s time for us to use the bathroom,” Asana says grabbing Nadia’s hand. “We’ll be back gentleman.” She throws a look between Ashton and Liam tugging Nadia along.

Ashton gives Asana a look of gratitude and appreciates Nadia’s hand cupping his chin as she walks by. Her simple touch eased his irritation slightly. He knows she’ll be safe with Asana but nods his head to the guards that accompanied him here and they followed the girls. Liam watches the small party leave to the VIP bathroom then moves to sit on the table in front of Ashton. Calum leans forward wanting to be a part of the conversation.

“What are we doing here, Liam?” Ashton asks bored, he wants to get Nadia home and away from Liam.

“I know Aleks wants to get Nadia,” Liam starts. “Veronica found that out for me and I think we should let her take him.”

In a light of blinding rage, Ashton launches at Liam, his fist connecting with flesh as the sound of glasses shatter to the table and floor. Shouts of surprise are heard all around and Calum pulls on Ashton’s shoulders yanking him off before he could do worse damage.

“Not with Nadia here,” Calum hisses and that’s what really stops Ashton. Liam rubs his jaw where Ashton hit him, but he doesn’t seem surprised that he was hit.

“Listen to me,” Liam growls standing close to Ashton. Calum tightens his hold on Ashton’s arms. “I have the best trackers with the best equipment. We give Nadia a tracker and follow her to wherever Aleks is.”

“I don’t want her involved in any of this.”

“What have you been telling her all this time? You’ve been lying to her for how long, Ashton? She needs to know the life she’s wrapped up in and that she’s the key to stop it. I’ve seen the reputation you’ve built here and Aleks has been threatening that since Nadia has come into your life. She needs to know.”

“Tanya knew and look what happened,” Ashton blurts before he really thinks of his words.

Liam’s eyes flash and he rushes at Ashton. They’re both scuffling on the floor of the suite while others try to get the men away from each other. Calum shouts them away though because they need to solve their differences in their own way. There’s so much history and discord between the old friends it needs to be hashed out. He won’t let it get too ugly and he hopes Asana is keeping Nadia occupied in the bathroom while the situation plays out.

After a tiresome ten minutes, Liam and Ashton are left panting on the floor. Their suits are ruffled, their hair tousled, and their knuckles bruised but their five years of hurt and anger have finally come forth.

“Nadia is safer not knowing,” Ashton sighs standing to his feet. He holds his hand out to Liam who takes it as help. “I’m so sorry about what happened to Tanya. I wanted to tell you five years ago but you left before I could even try and help you.”

“I know…but my whole world ended that day. I had to get out. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“How is letting her get taken going to keep her safe? You know what Aleks wants to do before he sends her off to this anonymous dealer?”

“She will be safe because Veronica is a double agent. She’s been getting into Aleks’ good graces for over a year.”

Veronica appears beside Liam and hands him a napkin to clean the blood from his face. He takes it graciously.

“Then why don’t you lead him to wherever Aleks is?” Ashton asks her. “Why does Nadia need to be the pawn?”

“Aleks is all about his power trip. He has to believe he’s the one in control right now because whoever this anonymous dealer is, has him scared,” Veronica explains. “He’s on a time crunch and if he doesn’t deliver, he’ll be killed. He won’t hurt her because we won’t give him the time to.”

Ashton glances between Liam and Veronica, Calum calls his name. Ashton turns and Calum waves his fingers signaling Ashton to follow him to the railing.

“Excuse me,” Ashton says then meets Calum.

“How can we trust Veronica? Or Liam, actually,” Calum asks glancing at the pair.

“Liam may have left but he’s never lied to me.”

“It’s been five years, Ashton. You of all people should be questioning if he’s not really working for Aleks. For all we know, he could be.”

“Tanya was the whole reason he walked away from this, and if…if Nadia knew what I do, and she asked me to leave…I wouldn’t question it. I’d leave this all behind.”

“So, you’re seriously considering having her taken, just like that?” Calum is baffled at his friend, his boss, giving in so quickly and releasing Nadia to the lion’s den.

“No, not just like that. I want every detail. I know Liam left, but he came back and is offering to help. Family is family, Cal, you know this.”

Calum eyes Liam and Veronica some more than stares at Ashton for a long time. Nadia is going to have a field day at the state he’s in wondering what the hell happened while she was in the bathroom.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Calum shakes his head surveying the situation.

Then the club cracks into darkness and a deafening silence, screams echo throughout the building and Ashton quickly races blindly to the bathrooms. Any sign of trouble and his mind reverts to Nadia. He stumbles with Calum and Liam trying to find their way blindly. The sound of two gunshots and more screams fill the air then he hears Asana’s voice calling for Nadia. Ashton panics, his heart racing.

The three men skid to a stop as the lights power back on, the club fills with the loud bassline as he looks in front of him. Asana is on the floor with a cut on her cheek, Calum is quick to aid her by standing up. He touches her cut cheek delicately.

“What happened?” Ashton asks. “Where’s Nadia?”

“We were coming back out; I was hit and fell to the floor just as the lights went out. I heard Nadia struggling then two shots…” Asana shakes her head looking in the direction Nadia must have left in.

“Veronica—”

“He knows. He knows I knew his plan and he executed it early,” Veronica gasps. “Liam, I swear he told me in confidence it was supposed to be on her opening night.”

“Where is she?” Ashton demands, his fingers shaking because his Nadia was taken right from under his nose.

***

It took Veronica a few hours to pinpoint exactly where Aleks was which resulted in giving him a few hours head start to run with Nadia. Asana didn’t know if the gunshots meant Nadia was harmed or not and it left Ashton uneasy not knowing. She could be hurt or dying and he’s not with her to help.

Aleks took her to Spain which is where Ashton is now killing the few men keeping guard outside an elaborate mansion. He races inside with Veronica’s voice in his ear telling him where to go.

On his way, he takes out more men until he’s in the elevator descending into the basement. He made sure Asana and Calum stayed outside for visuals and had an ambulance and the police on standby. The basement is dimly lit with shelves along the walls filled with bottles of wine. The guards standing inside didn’t even approach him as he stepped inside, they simply watched him pass by.

“You’re right on him, Ashton,” Veronica says in his ear but Aleks isn’t in sight.

“You’ve always been too trusting, Ashton. I knew it would be your downfall.”

Ashton stops dead in his tracks. Stepping into the light from behind a large wine barrel, is his father, Frank Irwin. He smiles cynically.

“Hello, son.”

“What the hell are you doing here? Where’s Aleks?” Ashton is baffled to be looking at his father who left him nearly eight years ago. His hair has thinned and has a few more wrinkles on his face.

“With Nadia, I’m assuming. He was meant to bring her to me like we agreed,” Frank responds moving in front of the barrel. He folds his hands in front of his stomach, Ashton can see the family crest ring is still on his finger.

“It’s you? You’re the anonymous dealer?” Ashton feels like he’s going to throw up from this information.

“Yes, and Nadia is very lovely, isn’t she?”

“Where the hell is she?” Ashton is shouting now advancing to his father. The guards in the room step forward but Frank holds up his hands.

“It’s all right, gentleman. I need to explain to my son here how Nadia is teaching him to be the best boss. Nadia, dear, please come out.”

In horror, Ashton sees Nadia stumble from a closet or room of some sort. In the short amount of time they’ve been apart, her hair has been chopped off to just below her chin. Her beautiful hair that she’s always cherished, and he’s ran his fingers through so many times, is gone. Her face is pale with chapped lips, bruises and cuts are scattered all over her body as the dress he bought her is ripped.

He’s torn between his love and the need to protect her and his anger in realizing she’s been working with his father. His anger wills out and roars inside him.

“Ashton…” she sniffs, tears spilling over her cheeks. “What—”

“Is it true?” he interrupts, voice shaking. “You’ve been working with my father to get to me?”

“What? Ashton, I don’t know who he is—”

“He’s right there!” Ashton shouts pointing to his father. Nadia jumps. “You’ve been fucking with me this whole time under his order, haven’t you? Tell me the truth, Nadia.” He advances towards her, his voice dangerous, and Nadia is visibly shaking at his outburst. He’s never spoken to her like this before.

“Ash…please, believe me. I love you; I would never hurt you and I’ve never met him before in my life.” She’s sobbing, reaching for him but then gasps as a loud bang echoes, and she’s clutching her stomach. Beneath her hands, red blooms in the fabric of her dress.

As if in slow motion, Ashton turns to see Aleks with his gun poised at her from another doorway. Then Liam appears in the elevator and kills Aleks quickly. He’s finally avenged Tanya and his unborn child. Aleks is dead before he hits the ground then the guards jump into action. Ashton and Liam are quick to fend them off, either by injuring them or using their guns until they’re all slumped to the ground.

“Asht—”

Ashton turns around from his most recent casualty in time to see Nadia collapse in a small heap. Frank is laughing behind her.

“She’s right, son. We’ve never met but I arranged for you two to meet. I’ve been a guiding voice in the now late Aleks Rozhkov’s head to egg you on to be a better boss. I thought the continuous chase of her wanting to be taken would flip a switch in you.”

Ashton’s mind is racing with questions and doubts.

“Ash…” Nadia whispers from the floor. Her warm brown eyes are half-lidded as she stares up at him. “Please, I love—”

He knelt beside her immediately because his need to protect her is stronger than his doubts. He helps apply pressure to her wound, and through her blood, he sees the two small condor tattoos on the outside of her wrist, and he’s transported to another time.

“I love this tattoo of yours,” Nadia told him as her fingers daintily traced over the dark ink on his neck. He was in his study at home writing figures down on a pad of paper. “I read that condors mate for life.”

“Is that so?” he asked and pulled her onto his lap. That’s when he noticed the all too familiar looking bandage on her wrist. “What’s this?”

“I got my own birds on me,” she smiled. “I love you, Ashton and I wanted to match this one you have.”

“If I’m a condor bird, then you’re a condor bird, huh?” he grinned taking her hand in his delicately.

“Something like that,” she giggled. “Take it off so you can see.”

Ashton carefully peeled the tape and gauze from her wrist to reveal two birds in flight. One is larger than the other which he’s assuming is meant to be him, and he’s so enamored by the gesture.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s perfect,” he nodded then met her brown eyes. “I love you, so much. You are my soulmate, Nadia.”

He’s kissed those small birds so many times since then and he feels downright idiotic and gullible to believe that she would double cross him. He is too trusting, and he was much too trusting of his father who was never trustworthy in the first place. His trust really is his downfall and it might cost his whole world.

He knows Nadia would never hurt him, and these two birds are proof of that whereas his father has been hurting him his whole life. Nadia’s eyes begin to close and Ashton panics.

“Liam!”

Liam runs to him quickly, sliding on the floor and int the small pool of blood that’s coming from Nadia.

“Shit,” Liam mutters.

“Get her upstairs and to Asana. I’m going to deal with my father.”

Liam rips off the sleeve of his shirt pressing it into the wound. Nadia grunts at the pain trying to keep her eyes open. Ashton touches her cheek the best he can without smearing her own blood on her face.

“I’m sor—”

“Shh, shh, you’re going to be okay. Liam’s going to help and make you better, okay? I’ll see you soon, stay awake for me.”

Liam lifts her carefully into his arms, murmuring a soft “I’ve got you love.” He gives Ashton a look before leaving the basement quickly and then it’s just Ashton and his father.

“How could you do this to me? Is this some kind of sick training session you’ve been instigating for the last eight years?” Ashton asks.

“I’ll admit, I did leave because I would have been stuck in jail well past my dying days. Then I wanted to use this opportunity to build you up to be the best boss there could be. I kept tabs on you, Ashton. You were doing everything right from partying, having women but you were lacking in one major role: being a boss. My leaving was really a chance for you to be great.”

“You left to save yourself. When you were around it was never a family. We protect our own and after you left we finally became a real family,” Ashton says.

“You’ve befriended the authorities and other families that we’ve always held an animosity with. They should all be beneath you.”

“No, we’re equals. I’ve helped with other dangerous mobs in the area and we keep the cities safe instead of stealing from it.”

“You’re abusing your power.”

“I’m utilizing it. There’s a big difference. You’ve hurt a lot of people Frank, me especially and you won’t do that anymore. Your little puppet, Aleks, is now dead and we’ll take down the rest of his Snatchers and whoever else follows him. But your time is over,” Ashton says reaching for his gun.

Frank laughs again.

“Is all of this really because of that girl? You can have hundreds of women, son, that’s the glory of being in this business! You take what you want when you want it.”

“No, that’s not how this business works. It may have been for you, but not me. I won’t leave my men or women behind. I have their back and they have mine.” Ashton raises his gun and clicks it; it’s aimed right at Frank’s head.

“I can keep teaching you to be better, how to be feared. You’ll really kill your own father?”

“I never had a father.”

He pulls the trigger and Ashton turns not even willing to spare his father another glance. He knows he’s dead, he has an excellent kill shot but he couldn’t look at the man who’s hurt him for so many years. He trudges to the elevator, eyes glued to the blood smear on the button as he ascends up. Ashton thought it hurt when he left but the fact that he used Nadia to try and hurt him? Nadia, the one person who loves him so completely and….

Ashton slams his palm against the elevator wall in anger. She’s been loving a liar this whole time because he’s kept so many secrets from her. Her blood on his hands is the last he’ll ever have, it’s because of him she’s hurt when he’s fought so long to prevent that from happening.

His mind is still reeling as he steps outside of the house in the blazing sun. An ambulance is parked near the cars he and the rest travelled in. Police sirens are heard from the distance, but Ashton needs to see Nadia. He finds her in the back of the ambulance with an EMT working on her wound and Asana holding her hand. There’s an oxygen mask over her mouth but she’s more alert, her hand slips from Asana’s and she reaches for him, eyes wide.

Ashton and Asana switch places quickly, he kisses Nadia’s hand fiercely, keeping it pressed to his lips.

“I’m so sorry, Nadia. This is all my fault, but no one will hurt you now. I swear it. It’s time I’ve come clean to you,” he confesses.

She winces as the EMT continues to stitch her up, her lips move beneath the mask, but he doesn’t hear her words.

“What?”

“She already knows, Ash,” Asana says from the doors of the ambulance. Nadia nods at him.

“She knows? How?”

“She figured it out months ago. The Sheriff stopped by when she was home alone once and wanted her to relay a message of thanks to you for taking out the LeBlanc’s. Hotchkiss assumed she knew everything and kept talking, giving her all the information she needed,” Asana continues to explain but he’s watching Nadia as if she’s speaking. Her eyes are soft at her admittance through Asana.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?” he asks, and Nadia pulls the mask down slightly so she could speak.

“Because all you’ve ever done is protect me and part of that was not telling me what you do. I was protecting your secret just the same because I love you.” Her voice is soft and quiet.

“And Asana knew this whole time?” he asks bleakly but his smile is of relief.

“She filled in the gaps. I made her swear not to tell,” Nadia whispers.

“I’m sorry I kept these secrets from you.”

“I know, but it’s okay,” she sighs falling deeper into her pillow.

“We are going to transport to the hospital,” the EMT says, “she needs rest.”

Ashton nods then turns to Asana but doesn’t quite know what to say.

“We’ll meet you there and take care of everything else here,” Asana nods. “You take care of her, boss man.”

The doors close and the ambulance rocks as it starts to move. Ashton presses his lips to the birds on Nadia’s wrist, she cups his cheek as tightly as she can. His world fell apart and has been restored by having her in his life.

“I love you so much, angel,” he whispers squeezing her hand. In her eyes she sees the same love reflected back. Their past, present and future are held between their gazes. “You’ve always been the beauty to my madness.”

• • • •

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

Taglist: @galcalirwin @cashtonasff5sos @thecurlsofgod @myloverboyash @rotten-kandy @tea4sykes @jannimoeller3 @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh @here-for-the-uproars @katiaw2 @g-l-pierce @fairyintheglass @gosh-im-short @banditocth @dezzym17 @koalacal @lukeisbaby @spicycal @mysticalhood @notinthesameguey @wastedheartcth @atlcalm @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @babylon-corgis @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @lanternlover2 @istaywithmyjonas @calteahood @sarcastically-defensive17 @another-lonely-heart @devilatmydoor @frontmanash @philthepegacorn @mantlereid @lukedorkyhemmings @addietagglikesbands @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke @mayve-hems @morguelth @haikucal @thatscooibaby @meghanrose05 @idontneedanyone @dinosaursandsocks @cassie-sos @suchalonelysunflower @burstintocolor @zhangyixingxing1 @dead-and-golden @mymindwide @everyscarisahealingplace @stardust-galaxies @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @lovelybonesetc @karajaynetoday

**if your url has a strike through it’s because your blog didn’t show up as a tag! :(

[ashestospace-fics]

Hi could I please request where Ging introduces is

S/O to Gon 

A/n: me anytime someone's mentions Gon my dad instincts kick in. 🥺🥺😭💞 Man I love that kid with my entire SOUL.

Tags: full on fluff and just two awkward dad's and their kid.

Ging Freecs

First of all, you did NOT know this guy had a kid until halfway of you two knowing each other.

He just happens to casually bring it up when you asked him what made him make a game for only hunters.

"oh and also I'm planning for my Son to be the one that beats it"

"your what?"

Rest assure you were booming him with question soon after with little to no response. He just told you he had a kid and that he was bound to find him one day. Knowing Ging he always let you wondering, and with just one simple "if you really want to try and keep up with me, then you might even meet him one day when he does finally catch me"

You didn't know why, but that made you stay and chase after him. And soon after somehow along the way you two ended up together. Until the day came and 12 years later a small boy came jumping on stage in the middle of the election as if a miracle just occur.

"So you actually stood still and meet up with him in that tall tree you are so found off as you promise?" You asked with slight hope in your voice as you stared at the short man next to you. Ging didn't look up at you as he ate away from an apple. A low sigh escaping him as he chews.

"I didn't promise anything, and I told you I did already for the million times" he mumbled back as he scratches his neck. Both of you sat on a bench in a park, in a few days you were both leaving for another of your expedition.

"Finally Ging! Jeez, after all this time. You gotta tell me about it. Does he act like you, he seems waaaay more cheerful than you" you poked him in a teasing manner as he didn't react at all like usual. A small smile rose to his lips as he looked forward to the first time of him eating that bloody apple.

"Judge for yourself he's heading this way" he motion with his head, your eyes darted forward to the child walking your way with a smile on his face. A part of you wonders if he was really his kid, the contrast in personality felt big. But something tells you were still far but wrong for doubting. Gon suddenly speeds up as soon he notices you both caught him approach.

"Ging! Hey!" He exclaims stopping in his track as he finally reaches both of you. both stood up at the same time.

"Yo, it took ya a while," Ging said back as he threw away the apple core into a nearby trashcan.

"yeeaaah, it took me a while figuring out the clues you left" Gon mumble out scratching his neck.

"clues?" You blurt out with a raised brow. Then it hit you with what he meant, you quickly smacked Ging in the back of his head.

"Are you serious?! You two already meet up, and you still giving him silly hints. Just give the goddamn direction next time you dumb boar!" You exclaim loudly, Ging only covers his ears.

"quit yelling" he groaned as he tried ignoring you. Gon stood quiet as he watches you, soon a smile creep on his face as he pointed at you.

"oh so are you also another friend of Ging?" He asked enthusiastically. You froze as you stare back down at him, his eyes almost sparkled. You felt your face flush, how where you gonna explain to this kid you were dating his dad?! you lean down slightly to his level.

"uhh well, not quite you see-"

" He's my Boyfriend"

God damn it Ging

You could feel your whole face burn as you clench your hand as you looked down at Gon. His expression didn't even change once he just seemed to smile even more.

"oh really?! How long? Those that mean you guys have more stories together?? I'll like to hear some whenever!" He exclaims excitedly. You were taken back slightly, this kid.

It didn't take long until you three started walking around the park and talking. A part of you got to see a slightly softer side of Ging as he and Gon when back and forth from sharing stories, you butt into correct somethings Ging would say. The more you heard them the more you realize how completely similar these two are. You couldn't help but smile at Gon, he was a good kid for the most part. Too alike this old man that you have fallen for as well.

"Y/n it was super awesome too meet you. I hope to see you again" you ruffle his hair up as you 3 said your goodbyes. It was already night time and needed to head back to your hotel rooms.

"Hey I'm counting on it, I'll keep better touch with ya than this old Fart, just call me whenever you need me! Hopefully, you get to join us on our next adventure. Right, Ging?" You elbow him, he brushes it off.

"yeah yeah, we already talked about it." He said back elbowing you back with a chuckle.

"right, then I'll see you later goodnight!" He waved as he runs off. That kid just radiated endless energy. You both turn around and started walking off. It was silent for the most part, your arm reaching out to tangle with his.

"what you think? Just like me" He suddenly said as he smiles at you from the side.

"Ging… I will kill for that kid" you whisper out with all seriousness. He stares at you before bursting to laugh.

"oh brother Y/n, you are something" he muse.

"isn't that why we're together in the first place?"

"hmm"

"I was being serious though, like what the heck was wrong with you leaving that precious kid behind"

[tbtssstuff]

Apple Bottom Jeans || pjm

Summary: CEO Park Jimin decides he wants a night to relax and there was no better time than on his birthday and at his favorite strip joint. Luckily for him you were preforming and offering him a special birthday treat.

Pairing: CEO!Park Jimin x Stripper!Reader

Genre: Mature (18+)

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Stripping, unprotected sex (plz be safe), riding, overstimulation, some dirty talk, Jimin flirts with Tae a little, uhhh what else? I’m not sure. I think I got everything. If not plz let me know.

Masterlist

-TJ/TacoAdmin 🌮

An: Happy Birthday Jimin!

With the amount of papers sitting on Jimin’s desk he swore his head was spinning.

It was his 25th birthday and for some reason he was still working at the office. Everyone would think that owning the company would come with the perk of not working on your birthday or at least not until almost 9 pm.

Well it didn’t work that way when everyone below you was absolute idiots.

Jimin takes off his glasses and rubs at the bridge of his nose. He was really about to lose his shit.

So he decides ‘you know what? Fuck it!’ and starts packing his things. Jimin just wanted ONE day to relax and his birthday was going to be the perfect opportunity and with no wife or girlfriend to go home to, Jimin knew exactly where to go.

He just hopes he was lucky enough that you were working.

Jimin smirks at the thought of you, the expert stripper that wiggled her way into his heart and his dreams. The amount of wet dreams he had about you was more than he could count on both of his hands.

You were a sex goddess and in there Jimin was nothing but your loyal servant, offering as much money to you as he could without bankrupting his entire company.

Now Jimin was more eager than ever to get the hell out of the office. He wants - no needs - to see you. Quickly, Jimin turns off his office light and makes his way out to his car.

Once he got to Dancing Fever, Jimin was escorted to his usual VIP seat, front and center of the stage. He situated himself as the waiter brought him his drink.

“It’s like you always know, Taehyung.”

Taehyung shakes his head, placing the drink on the table with a knowing smirk.

“I could say the same to you, Mr. Park. Apple is the last girl of the night.”

“Well what am I to say? When my girl is on I have to be here to cheer her on.”

It was no secret to the staff here that Jimin was infatuated with you, but they also knew he was harmless and their best paying customer, not just tipping the girls well - you especially well - but also tipping whatever waiter he had for the night a pretty penny as well.

Indulging in his whims every now and then wouldn’t hurt.

“What brings you tonight, Mr. Park?”

Jimin waves his hand dismissively. “Jimin.”

Taehyung always insists on calling him Mr. Park no matter how many times Jimin tells him otherwise. Jimin felt close to Taehyung, like they were really good friends, but Taehyung once told him that the owner had spoken to him on several occasions to treat all customers equally.

Last names only. Nothing person. Just business.

“You know I can’t, Mr. Park.” Taehyung shakes his head.

“I know, but it was worth a shot. Anyway,” Jimin downs his drink in one go, enjoying the burn in the back of his throat, “It’s my birthday today and I sure as hell didn’t want to spend it in the office. So I’ve come hoping to see my favorite girl and guy.”

Jimin winks at Taehyung, the taller male’s face flushing a pretty shade of pink. If Jimin wasn’t so into you, he would have gone for Taehyung. He was quite the looker, with a charming smile and alluring eyes.

And an ass to boot.

Jimin has always been an ass man.

Taehyung nods and takes his leave, going to the back room where you were getting dressed for your night.

Tonight you requested the song “low” by flo rida and had dressed very appropriately with a white bralette, apple bottom jeans, and some boots with fur trimming.

Your hair was tied up into a ponytail and your makeup was a little more on the flashy side.

You looked amazing and Taehyung secretly wishes that it was just for him.

“Hey Tae!” You smile, walking over to him and hugging his chest. “How’s it looking out there?”

“Your CEO is here. Says it’s his birthday.”

“It’s Jimin’s birthday? Huh… I didn’t know that.”

Of course you didn’t, how would you? The only time you saw him was when he was handing you money to take off your clothes. Still he did it with class.

“Other than Jimin?”

“It’s pretty packed. They all want to see their Apple.”

You scoff at the stage name given to you because of your ass. Really you should have been named peach, but it was taken. Then you think of Jimin. The sexy CEO that seems to almost go bankrupt every time he comes.

He must be into you right?

Maybe for his birthday you could give him a special treat.

You just hope you didn’t misjudge him.

Quickly, you tell Taehyung your plan and while he does grimace, he agrees to help.

Jimin was just about done with his second drink when Taehyung came out of the back.

“Miss me?” Jimin teases.

“Actually, Apple wants to see you in the VIP section. I told her it was your birthday and she wants to give you a special show as a present.”

A special show? That was rare considering you refuse to do private shows for anyone. Jimin knows. He tried to request one once. The bouncer told him flat out that you didn’t do that and Jimin understood.

So for you to do this for him was an extremely pleasant surprise.

Quickly, Jimin follows Taehyung from his seat, past a few dancers, and to a big red door with a gold VIP sign hanging above it. Past the red door was a bunch of other doors lined on both sides of the room to lead into the different VIP rooms.

Taehyung leads Jimin to the very last door, holding it open. “It’ll just be a minute.” And then Taehyung leaves.

Inside the VIP room was extremely fancy, as to be expected. Red velvet walls, black carpet, a comfy looking black couch, champagne in a bucket of ice with a few wine glasses, and in the center was a stage with a pole.

“Wow.” Jimin awes at the room and didn’t seem to notice there was a second door and that you were walking through.

You smile while watching him, amused by his interest in the room. He was a CEO of a big company, he must have seen his share of fancy looking rooms yet he seems to be so fascinated by the feel of the leather couch.

“Like it?”

Your voice made Jimin turn. He bites his plush lips when he sees your outfit. God you were beautiful. Like someone took their sweet time hand crafting you.

“I think I like you better.”

“Always the charmer.” You smile and make your way over to Jimin, running your fingers down his arm before effortlessly climbing up onto the stage.

Jimin licks his lips as he takes his seat across from the stage, his eyes never leaving you.

“I heard it was your birthday.”

“You heard right, 25.”

“25? And you’re a CEO?! That’s impressive.”

Jimin chuckles, shrugging nonchalantly. “What can I say? I’m an impressive man.”

That he was and you wanted to find out what else he could do. You grip the pole just thinking about it.

“Well since it is your birthday and this is a special treat, you can touch as much as you like.”

Jimin cocks an eyebrow, a smirk appearing on his face. No one was allowed to touch the dancers, ever, it was one of the rules the club enforced heavily. The last guy that touched a girl not only got a bloody nose from said girl, but the security was brutal when they threw him out.

That girl was you.

So for you to allow Jimin to touch you as much as he likes was a big privilege and one he would not take for granted.

Music pulls Jimin out of his thoughts, his smirk widening when he hears Low come over the speakers, but his jaw drops as he watches you bend over, ass in the air with the words Apple Bottom across your cheeks.

Jimin groans, feeling all his blood rushing down south.

You start dancing to the beat of the music, twirling around the pole with ease, dropping down low, and everything in between. Jimin shifts in his seat, the strain of his hard cock against his slacks getting a little uncomfortable.

And then the first piece of your clothes come off.

Your bralette.

Your bare breasts were free and Jimin could see how hard your nipples were. What he wouldn’t give to wrap his lips around them.

Slowly, you start moving from the stage and over to him, caging him on the couch with your arms, your breast now in his face.

Jimin licks his lips and before he could bring his hand up to cup them, you turn around and bend over, now your perfect ass now inches away from his face.

That was the breaking point for Jimin. He has been envisioned touching your ass since the moment he saw you on stage. Growling low in his throat, Jimin grips both your ass cheeks in his hands, savoring the feel of his hands against the denim.

You gasp and shiver. His rough hands feel so good and they were just on the outside of your pants, you could only imagine the electric feeling it would make if he touched your skin.

“Jimin~” You whine as Jimin continues to knead his fingers into your ass cheeks, the song long forgotten.

“Look at you. So perfect.”

You whimper as one of Jimin’s hands slips from your ass to your cunt, rubbing his fingers along the rough material, swearing that he could feel just how wet you are through your jeans.

You grind your hips against his fingers, hoping to feel the sweet relief they would offer, but just as you do Jimin removes both hands from your body completely.

You were about to turn around to see what happened, but instead were met with a harsh slap on your left cheek. You let out a loud gasp, followed by a moan.

“God I’ve been imagining this ass in my face since I first saw you on stage. It helps that you’re cute too.”

You let out a laugh at his comment, but was quickly cut off by Jimin landing a smack against your other cheek. Usually you weren’t one for spanking, but when he did it.

You couldn’t get enough of it.

Jimin rubs at the place he hit before lightly tapping it this time, signaling you to stand straight. “I want these off, Dollface.”

Obeying him right away, you shuck off your boots first and then your pants, tossing them to the stage behind you. Jimin licks his lips at the fact you didn’t wear any panties. Usually if you were going on stage you would, but this is exactly what you were hoping for when you decided to give your little CEO his birthday gift.

Jimin palms himself through his black dress slacks, groaning at the feeling.

“Naughty girl.” Jimin chuckles and pulls you onto his lap, thrusting his hips up into your wet cunt. “Not wearing any panties? Hmmm? Was this what you wanted, darling?”

You whimper, hiding your face in Jimin’s neck. Of course this was what you wanted and Jimin knew it.

And he couldn’t have been happier.

“Please, Jimin.” You whine.

Jimin hums, leaning back away from you. “You know what you want, darling. Go on.”

Not wanting to waste any time, you quickly undo Jimin’s buckle and work on his zipper. Every moment that he wasn't inside you seems to feel like torture, especially because you could feel just how hard he was underneath you.

Finally freeing his cock from his slacks, you moan at the sight and feel of him in your hands. While he wasn’t that long, the girth of him made your insides clench around nothing and your mouth water.

“Well?” Jimin purrs. “Go on. Don’t be shy, baby.”

You lift your hips and sink yourself down onto Jimin’s cock. You moan out at the stretch, the burn feeling euphoric. Jimin groans, his head falling back. You were so warm and tight that Jimin feared he wouldn’t last long inside of you.

Gripping his broad shoulders, you bounce up and down on his cock, moaning each time he was buried deep inside. Jimin digs his fingers into your hips, thrusting his hips up to match your pace.

“Ah shit- fuck you’re so tight, baby!” Jimin groans.

You cry out as Jimin hits that spot inside you that makes you see stars. Thrust after thrust, you were getting closer and closer to the edge.

Jimin watches as you close your eyes and lose yourself. God you were beautiful and he reminds himself to take a shot and ask you out after this, but for now he’s focusing on making you cum.

Angling his hips, Jimin thrusts into you like a mad man, trying to push his own end off by thinking about anything except how amazing you feel and the fucked out look on your face.

You scream as your orgasm washes over you in waves, digging your nails into Jimin’s shoulders causing him to hiss at the pain. Jimin only slows his hips for a little bit to let you come down from your high, but the moment he sees you start to calm down, he lifts you off his cock and turns you around, pushing you down onto the table in front of him with your ass high into the air.

Jimin licks his lips at your perfect ass and throbbing cunt, savoring the sound of your pants throughout the quiet room, music long since stopped.

“J Jimin?” You try to look behind you, but the moment you try Jimin’s hand comes down harshly on your left cheek. You whine at the feeling. “W what are yo- AHH!”

A moan tears through your throat as Jimin grabs your hips and bottoms out in one swift thrust, his hips unleashing everything he was holding back.

You cry and shake your head, the pain of your sensitive pussy becoming a little too much.

“Jimin! Jimin!” His name falls off your lips in a plea, whether to stop or keep going, you weren’t sure as the pain soon turns into blinding pleasure.

“That’s right,” Jimin grunts, never slowing his pace, “Cry out my name! Let everyone know just who’s bitch you really are. Who owns this pussy, Y/n?”

You’ve lost the ability to even speak, let alone say anything coherent, your mouth gaping open in a silent scream.

“Say it!” Jimin commands and smacks his hand against your ass, “WHO owns this pussy?”

“You! Only you Jimin!” You cry out as your second orgasm hits you, faster and harder than the last.

The sudden tightness of your cunt pushes Jimin right over his edge, releasing his cum into your tight hole, an animalistic growl falling from his lips.

Jimin pulls out of you, falling back onto the couch and pulling you with him to sit on his lap. You whine at the sensitivity when your pussy brushes against his leg.

“So.” You speak up after finally able to find your voice. “Like your birthday gift?”

Jimin chuckles, running his fingers over your back mindlessly, loving how lean into him. “I did. Maybe we can continue this back at my penthouse and then maybe I could take you out to breakfast.”

“Really?”

“It would be my after birthday wish to spend the morning with you, Y/n.”

You smile and nod your head, leaning in to kiss Jimin softly.

For Jimin, this was the best birthday ever.

[trashdeviant]

Chapter 1

Venom/Eddie x Reader

Tw: cussing, violence

Another round clocks you in the jaw; the rebound keeping you from darting out of the way of the following blow. The crowd roars in suspense, but not loud enough to drown out the pumping of your heart beating in your ears. You shake your head at the bleat of a bell that signals the end of this round before your opponent could crack your skull open. Bloodied spit shoots out the side of your mouth as you return to your corner.

“Get to your corner!” The referee waves his arm dismissively at the mass glaring you down.

You had plenty of bulk, but they looked like a mountain compared to you. There was a split in your eyebrow you hadn’t noticed before. Cold hands shove a bottle of water into yours. The condensation wets your palms and drips down your face as you desperately down the freezing beverage in an attempt to cool yourself off. There’s another split down the middle of your bottom lips. The stinging only amplified your adrenaline.

You hadn’t realized your brother had been talking to you until he lightly smacks the side of your head. You turn to him, almost dazed.

“Look, boss, it ain’t even that much! When they take you down, just stay down. You hear me? Aye! Aye, boss!” That wasn’t what you were looking to hear. You had already turned back to the middle of the ring. He sounds his frustration behind you before he snatches the empty bottle out of the way.

You finally begin to control your breathing when the bell rings once more. The both of you raise fists and circle each other. Your hands shoot out to reach for them as you lunge hesitantly. Just as you had predicted they were quick to react to your flawed grapple. As they tangle with you-their arms over yours-you raise your knee to push them back. Your hands gripped on the back of their neck with a vice as you rinse and repeat. You can feel them struggle against your grip as you give their nose one last thrust of your knee before you let them push you back.

A shot that lucky wont come as easily next time. You put your hands back up and await their retaliation. The light almost blinds you as they swing at you. Their ponytail flicks at your face as you dodge and pass them. Their other arm swings behind them and catches you on the cheek. Hard.

That was going to leave one hell of a bruise. They quickly come back with another wild swing and all you can do is block your face as they begin to corner you. You could barely hear the voice behind you scream your name to go down. They take the advantage to connect their fist to your stomach. It almost encourages you to double over, but you hold your breath. It was all or nothing.

You surprise them with a swing of your own. Despite their heat unrelenting you manage to find an opening. Suddenly your positions were reversed. Your blood pumping and your fists flaring, you kept your pattern. ‘Boom-boom-Pop!’ you kept repeating to yourself. A mental montra you drilled into your head for years. They were beginning to grow tired if their curling figure was of any indication. You managed one last uppercut that sends them spiraling to the ground as the bell signals your victory. Dopamine never felt so good. You take in the moment as you watch your opponent tire out on the ground and listen to the audience both cheer for you and scream in disagreement. You could see your brother lose it in the crowd...

“You stubborn ass-”

“Shut up and give me my winnings, Raffie.” He only scoffs and slaps a hefty wad into your palm. You smile to yourself as you feel it and quickly count out a good amount and then some.

Rafael cackles at your pleased expression, “Heh, feel that? Legit thought you were done for. You already looked dead tired.”

“Ha, when you fight someone like that–you can’t get tired.” you joked dryly as you two swayed into the night outside of the building. Adjusting your hoodie you feel him playfully punch at your shoulder. “For real though,” he looks at you casually, “you should learn when to fuckin’ quit. Each fight so far has been bigger than the last one.”

You could only squint at him, your lips tugged in a smirk, “Aren’t you the one getting me these g-”

“Shh!” He smiles a little, embarrassed, and pushes at you. You retaliate by ruffling his curly hair and laugh along with him.

Nights after a fight were usually like this. You, being pretty banged up, and your brother pretending he’s stern when he tells you to be careful. It was refreshing. Although he wasn’t blood related. You two had met in highschool when you were quite the handful. You felt a little guilty dragging him into this kind of business, but he insisted. It paid plenty for rent and although you could never find yourself getting used to the nausea it came with, you somehow enjoyed fighting.

“Damn, boss,” a nickname that manifested easily with your attitude, “Want to go buy some ice for that real quick?”

You were out of ice, but would rather be planting face-first into your mattress right about now, “Nah, pretty sure we got some peas in the freezer.” It was incredibly dark out and the fact that he could see the redness beginning to swell, it spiked a bit of your insecurity. You shook it off and made it to your apartment complex.

Entering your room felt like ecstasy for the soul. Rafael had already passed you to grab the peas as you toed off your shoes and got comfortable on the couch. That meant sweats and no top. You hold your hand out as a chilled bag is placed in your grasp from behind you. After wrapping it with your hoodie you gently place it against your cheek, wincing in discomfort. Raf is kind enough to turn the TV on for you as you put your legs up on half of the couch with your feet tucked under a blanket. Your kin just about to make himself comfortable-

You give your brother a pitiful look, “Raffie can you go microwave me some pizza?”

He sighs and hangs his head before lazily dragging himself to the fridge. A smirk tugs at your lips again, “Aye, why are you tired? I’m the one fighting!” An exaggerated groan is your only response. You chuckle at the fact that he wouldn’t dare deny your right to leftover pizza before you return your attention to the screen.

“-Four bodies were found in an alley. The heads have yet to be discovered as this appears to be yet another victim of the Demon of San Francisco, Ven-”

“Bah…” You flicked through the channels before landing on some wildly inappropriate cartoon.

Venom made both you and your brother nervous. It didn’t take a genius to see the pattern he had. He searched for those who do bad deeds. To some goody-two-shoes it would appear that he had it out for just anyone, but you knew those who were actually in danger. You feared that you were one of them with how you and your brother were involved in an underground fight club. The only hope you both clinged to was the fact that gambling was harmless. Mostly.

The scent of cheesy jalapenos and meat wafted your senses and successfully interrupted your thoughts. You greedily take a bite simultaneously with Raf. You were full of regret one minute in. Your busted lip was searing! You muffle a complaint before dropping the peas and booking it to the sink to cool off your lip.

You whine as you could hear Raf laugh at you from the living room. Your middle finger flashes him before you rush to the fridge to drown your mouth in milk straight from the gallon.

He was almost hysterical, “No hay vaso!?”

Your eyes roll as you finally cool down. Once you return and push your plate towards him you notice something. Both plates only had one pizza. He usually ate two. That bastard.

“You-”, you smack him upside the head. Your glare could turn a man to stone. Unfortunately, he only seemed to laugh in the face of death.

You make a dramatic show of retreating to your room as he eats. Living with him taught you that he would make it up to you in the morning so you weren’t terribly pissed off.

The moment your face hits the pillow, sleep cushions your fall...

Sweat beads down your throat. You were at the height of your capabilities and it felt victorious. Your audience chanting your name and your opposer struggling to get back up. There wasn’t a scratch on you either. This high was absolutely addicting and you couldn’t help yourself. You leaned against the ropes and rose to boast and flex-the crowd going wild. Just as you were asking for more out of the audience there was a gut wrenching pull that brought you back to the middle of the stage.

The lights were suddenly blinding and your opponent looked more fierce than usual. Eyes dark and mouth seething. There was a thin layer muffling the sound of the crowd. Something wasn’t right…

Everything was warped and the corners of your vision were dark. Despite everything feeling slower, your heart was panicking. You duck when the hulking silhouette swings at you and immediately put your fists up, trying to keep your head in the game-or keep your head in general.

It was more of a game of cat and mouse. You kept focusing on dodging and keeping a distance. There was no way in hell you were going to get them beneath you. It was almost like they were growing by the second. You shook your head and tried at throwing a punch at their stomach. Now something definitely wasn’t right. Your arms felt heavy with each hit. It was suffocating and felt like you were being drawn in.

Your opponent had made zero effort to block your punches. The crowd was still muffled, but grew louder. Things were getting darker and darker. The figure in front of you began to grow just as dark before you saw nothing but the white of its eyes as they morphed into something else. It narrowed at you and all you could do was watch as its stomach engulfed your fist.

Something was opening and suddenly there was pain in your stomach that felt closer to the ache of fear. You were being pulled into what felt like your death. Your breathing all but disappeared and your heart was a screaming mess. This was it-this was your last fight-nowhere to run-

Your name brings you crashing to the surface. You’re damn near hyperventilating, but you were just thankful to be able to breathe again. Everything was still dark, but you slowly recognized it as your room.

“Y-you’re in your room, boss-it’s me Rafael...”

You turned to Raf holding his aching nose with one hand while the other was held out to you defensively. He watched your eyes dart left and right as you took your time to calm down. Your body was shaking and sticky from sweat.

“A nightmare…” He tried his best to bring you back from those. You shook your head and grabbed his hand to anchor yourself. “I’m sorry.”, it was what you could muster for now. Apparently your mouth sounded as dry as it felt considering Raf released a hand from his undamaged nose to pass you his half empty bottle of water.

Finishing the bottle, you toss it randomly in the distance. Raf was always awkward at this point and it showed.

“Hungry?” your head motioned ‘no’.

“...TV?” You take a moment, but decide you would rather watch something than try to go back to sleep.

With that he grabs some pain meds from the nightstand and another water bottle before he walks you to the living room to cuddle and enjoy a show or two.

Unfortunately he passes out in the middle of an episode, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain. Quietly, you shimmy out from his tight hold and make your way to the bathroom.

Your sticky body makes you grimace. With how tired you were it was almost a challenge to get everything off. Regardless you make it to the valve of the shower and trigger the showerhead. Heated water pours out and you carefully step in. You relished in the heat and almost doze off. But you got busy and cleansed yourself of your stench.

Half an hour later you were out and drying yourself off before putting on fresh clothing. Something casual considering it was already morning. You throw on some underwear, pants, a nerdy shirt, and your hoodie. Hiding your bruise was the least of your worries. People seemed to mind their own business whether or not you actually hid anything. You decided you would go out and grab some ice to kill time since you weren’t heading back to sleep anytime soon. Dressed and out the door, you put on some tunes on your phone. You tuck your earbuds into your ears and leave the building; heading to a nearby convenience store. The back of your mind is hopeful that Raf rubs your shoulders when you get back.

There was a dangerous moment where you almost walked into a pole, but you made it. Passing through the door you made an invaulatory map of the store. A group of teenages over by the snacks and a women by the coffee makers. You almost missed the brooding man by the freezers as you made your way towards the candy aisle. You grabbed a packet of gum before making your way towards the cashier.

“What?” It was a hushed tone, but your gaze followed the whisper towards the man staring down a bag of tater tots. Suddenly he turned to look at you, but naturally you turned away, whether you were embarrassed of staring or just scared of interaction with someone so sketchy.

You continued your travels, paying for both the gum and the ice. Currently you were struggling with your hold on the ice outside of the store. You winced when you tried to carry it as you usually did. Flashes of your previous fight reminded you that you were still very sore. Sighing, you considered walking back in to ask for a big bag to carry it in.

“Need some help there?” he sounded casual and yet nervous. It was the brooding man with the tater tots. Maybe he was tired.

You couldn’t really give a fuck if he was as dangerous as he looked, at the moment, you were just happy to get some help. You would be more worried if you didn’t know how to defend yourself. “Please?” A relieved sigh left you as he picked up the bag and held it over his shoulder with ease.

“Thanks uh-”

“Eddie.”

“Eddie.”, you mimic.

“And you are...?”, something in you stirred at that, but you ignored it and answered respectively with your name.

“I don’t live too far if that helps.” The least you could do was provide a bit of conversation. You made sure to leave an earbud out so you could hear him. “It’s no problem. I don’t live far either.” You nod in acknowledgement. A small moment of silence follows persistently.

“What’s with the bruise, if you don’t mind me asking?”, his voice makes you jump lightly; not expecting him to ask that question.

Damn, you pretty much forgot about that now that it only hurt to touch. You weren’t about to tell him your nightly activities. Skillfully, you lie through your teeth, “I’m real clumsy. Vertigo acts up out of nowhere sometimes.” you throw in an embarrassed chuckle for affect. Too busy patting yourself on the back you fail to see through his smile that masked how unconvinced he really was.

You eyed the exaggerated amount of tater tots and chocolate he had bought. It didn’t really match his figure. Instead of commenting you simply dig into your pocket and retrieve your pack of gum, pulling out a strip and unwrapping it, “Gum?”, you offered.

He shrugs and lets you feed it to him. His hands were occupied anyways. You smile playfully at the gesture and his awkwardness as he thanks you.

“Anytime.” You finally turn to him as you reach the apartment complex. You mentally groan at the fact that you were about to carry the ice up the stairs to your apartment. With your hands out to him, you gesture towards the ice, “I’m not about to make you go up the stairs with that thing, but thanks for the help, Eddie.”

“It really isn’t a problem, please, I insist.” Somehow that made you smile. You didn’t argue as you would be the same way.

“Any ideas how I could thank you?” If not you could probably throw him a fake ass ‘IOU’. Or maybe just offer him some breakfast.

There was a beat of silence where he made an expression you didn’t have time to read. “You hungry?” smooth.

As if on cue there was a smell seducing the hell out of your senses. Your brother was making french toast. “Yeah, I could eat.” you chuckled, knowing he could smell it too.

You make it to your room just after that and open the door; the aroma amplifying and the sound of sizzling makes your mouth water at the thought of bacon. You hold the door out to Eddie.

“My treat?” You joked as he beamed.

“How generous.”

He set the ice into the freezer and shimmied awkwardly into the scene where he was met with a confused curly-haired man with a spatula in one hand and a plate of food in the other. He appeared to be wearing nothing but boxers and a frilly apron. You were leaning against his shoulder innocently.

“Eddie, this is my brother, Rafael, Raf, this is Eddie.” Following that introduction, you snagged the plate and handed it to Eddie before gesturing to him to sit next to you on the couch in front of the TV. He complies and for a moment or two, the silence was painful. Raf tosses you some chocolate syrup, a small salt shaker of sugar-cinnamon and whipped cream that he threw blindly in the direction of the living room. You had to be quick to catch them, but had a horrifying second in which you had to catch the chocolate syrup from the top of Eddie’s head before it could land on his plate. You sigh an apology, however, Eddie just chuckles a little, surprised and impressed.

“So is bringing home random guys going to be a thing or…?” You could tell your shit-faced brother was smirking from the kitchen as he fixes your plate. Eddie huffs in amusement behind your bickering. You were just thankful that he could break the ice-pun intended.

You debated throwing a spoon at him, “Is you wearing my things going to be a thing or…?” you fired back before gawking at the plate in front of you. He snickers, “Looks better on me.” and belatedly joins you two with a bunch of french toast in his mouth. It appears the newcomer stole his plate regardless of being capable of making another one.

“So are you going to tell us more about yourself, Eddie.” despite his muffled voice, you sensed something suspicious about his question.

Setting down the chocolate syrup he just drowned his french toast in, he clears his throat, “I’m a journalist, I write articles for the-” Rafael burps shamelessly, “Daily Globe…” Eddie smiles, obviously trying to be polite. He takes a forkful of his breakfast as Raf opens his mouth again, “Oh you’re the guy that did the Eddie Brock show, huh?”

“The Eddie Brock Report, yeah,”, he corrects, “that was me.” Another forkful just a beat later.

“Thats cool-”, you tried to offer before your brother decided to butt in again, “-Yeah real cool. Didn’t that show get cancelled?” Eddie was visibly uncomfortable and evidently irritated which struck a chord with you.

Although it seemed like Eddie had plenty to say in response to that, you slam your hand on the table to take the attention off of him, “Hey, Raffie!” You gave him a quick stare that only the two of you could decipher as ‘We’re going to have a fucking talk later’. “Mind making me some more bacon, please?”

It was more of an excuse to keep him out of the conversation for the most part. Raf rolls his eyes before taking the hint. You took the moment to pat Eddie on the shoulder apologetically. He seemed to understand the gesture as he nods in acknowledgement.

With a defeated sigh you take a break from questions, “Cool jacket.” He looks down as if he forgot he even had it on.

“Thanks. Your hoodies nice.” He was totally just being nice. Your hoodie was ancient. You didn’t comment though, “Thanks, you’re too kind.”

“I aim to please.”

“Naturally. You lift or...?” You poke at the bulk in his bicep through the aforementioned jacket.

“Oh uh yeah,” He removes his jacket to smirk and bulge his arms beneath your touch, “Working out ‘s been helping me through somethings actually.”

Snorting, you remove your hoodie to flex the muscle you were hiding beneath the fabric.

“I kind of do too… in a way.” It was almost second nature for you to try to compete.

“Oh damn-”

“Bacon’s done, boss, I’m going to take a shit-”

‘Ever so charming…’

Raf swiftly abandons the kitchen leaving a concerned Eddie with an unamused kin. You hang your head. Just as you were getting to the flow of a conversation.

“Is he going to be alright?” There was something in his voice that sounded like concern, but closer to relief. You didn’t blame him as you were just the same.

“Yeah…” You look down at his empty plate and the pile of bacon you weren’t really going to eat.

With a wavering sigh, you gesture to the bacon, “Want the rest?”

You were already grabbing the tubbawear when he answered, “Sure…”

There was a selfish part of you that didn’t want to kick him out, but you compromised by taking a sharpie and writing your number on the side of the container with a small smiley face next to a subtle ‘text me’. Once you hand it to him he glances at the message on the tubbawear before looking back at you.

“You should probably head out. I’m really sorry about Raf, but uh,” you were suddenly nervous, “I hope we can try this again sometime…”

You just met the man, but the guilt decided that you should try to make it up to him anyways. That and maybe the fact that you’ve been in a bit of a dry spell and this man certainly looked appetizing. You mentally slap yourself.

He sent his gaze towards the direction Rafael had left before returning to meet your hopeful eyes. It seemed he was throwing you a bone, “Sure, I’d love to try this again. Maybe not here though…”

“Yeah, totally uh we’ll figure something out.” wow, could you have sounded any more awkward and desperate? Regardless, there was a snarky comment here and there before you actually got him out the door. You pressed your head against the door as guilt hit you like a truck. It almost made you want to scream. You try to calm yourself down before you go say something stupid to Raf.

Look, your face? Isn’t very pretty after that last fight. You’re still a little cut up and that bruise looks like near-death! Someone actually took a little interest in you this morning. Not to mention, he didn’t look too bad! Bed head, five o'clock shadow, and all! That jawline was something nobody could miss…

You doubt he would have been so nervous if a ‘certain someone’ hadn’t been there. Raf never usually acted like this anyways.

You sigh through your nose before pulling off your shirt and pushing yourself to face your unbearable brother. The heater was on in your room and with the conversation you were about to have, you were not in the mood to feel suffocated. When you see him he is face down on the bed, brooding. With a roll of your eyes, you sit next to him and pat his back. You try to sound sweet, but it comes out a little irritated, “Raffie?”

No answer.

“Want to talk about your little break down earlier?”

A muffled protest.

You groan, “Raf stop being a little girl…”, using whatever force you could muster, you push him onto his back to look at you. Much to your displeasure, your arms were still sore so you only managed to get him on his side. If not for the soreness you could certainly bench press him. Raf blinks at you with brown-hazel eyes in what you hope is guilt.

“Raf, please tell me why you freaked out on Eddie like that?” Your voice was tired, but seemed to finally get him to speak.

“You don’t even know him…” His eyes narrow.

“And you think you do? You never even watched his show. The hell did you embarrass me like that for?”

He scoffs.

“Is this about Jessie?”

Raf answers your suspicions when he avoids your gaze. You demonstrate your disappointment in a stern voice, “Raf, that shit was a long time ago. I’ve moved on from it and you shouldn’t even-”

“Yeah and I get that you won’t change your mind-I promise I fuckin do, but-”

“Do you really ‘cause I’m tired of you bringing it up.” It was practically hissed at him.

“Alright-alright you know what? It’s whatever at this point, right? I won’t bring it up anymore, but like I’m just sayin’ I’m tired of you being stubborn n’ shit when it shouldn’t even have to be a problem! And I mean I don’t want to drag you into things you don’t want to do, but I just feel like we could be like how we were back then when we were doing crazy shit together you ‘member? I miss that! We-”

“I don’t care about that shit anymore-I’m doing my own thing, Raf, you shouldn’t be caring this much about this anymore.”

“Yeah well you shouldn’t be wanting to fuck random motherfuckers off the stree-” Your hand stung and Rafael held the side of his head. You couldn’t tell apart any emotion that was flowing through him at this point.

“I’m old enough to make these decisions, Raf.”

“Sure don’t act like it.” That made your blood boil.

“Says the one crying like a little bitch the moment I want some closeness,” Rafael opens his mouth to speak, but you quickly shut him up, “Grow the fuck up cause I’m not about to stand here while you talk me down like I’m a fucking dumbass.” Your voice wavers in strength.

You refuse to give him the chance to respond to that, figuring the power in you was beginning to grow too sensitive by the second. As you leave the room you’re sure to slam the door shut. Before you could break you grab your hoodie and your phone off of the counter and rush out the door. Looking down at the notification made your chest sting, but managed to cheer you up enough to smile thankfully. It was an unknown number, but you knew who it was regardless.

[:Hey, holding up okay?]

A huff leaves your worn figure before you text back a small ‘yeah, what’s up?’ before adding him to your contacts and trugging out of the complex for a walk.

Maybe it would calm your nerves and distract you from feeling watched.

[mdotmaro]

Winging It.

Chapter 2

Author's Note: I am so ecstatic at the reviews you all have left. I appreciate every kind word and am only mildly afraid of constructive criticisms :). I am going to continue this story along with a vague idea of what happens next. Confession time: I see much of my own relationship with Casey and Derek. No, not step-siblings, just their connection. The club scene with the drunken dancing and then kissing… yeah, that actually happened to us. Extra fun fact is that I was his boss at the time :P ANYWAY! Onto the main event.

"So, the glory of the stage wasn't all that in the end?" Lizzy assumed as she carefully packed Casey's dishware into the appropriately labeled boxes. Marti was on bathroom duty, and Nora was working on linens while Casey was backing her clothes and shoes. Casey's announcement to leave New York and go back to school for business with a minor in dance was warmly welcomed. Nora admitted that she was selfishly glad that Casey would only be a few hours away by car instead of a plane ride away. Marti was more curious about what happened. The now ten-year-old went through Casey's bathroom with precision to see if there was any clue her step-sister was hiding.

"Did Jessie do something stupid?" Marti asked from her perch on the bathtub. Casey gave a short laugh.

"No, he didn't. Even if he did, it doesn't matter. We broke up months ago. He was just a summer romance." Casey said with a reassuring smile. Marti narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced. Casey desperately wanted to change the subject, so she moved to Lizzie, who was tapping up the last kitchen box.

"So, speaking of summer romances. Have you heard from Oscar, Lizzie?" Casey asked abruptly; Lizzie slipped and cut off a much longer piece of tape than was needed. She glared at her older sister, who mouthed 'sorry' to the now blushing teen. Lizzie cleared her throat.

"Oscar lives in Parkhill, and we have a date over at the skatepark over there. He is going to teach me to skateboard." Lizzie said and quickly picked up the box and scurried off downstairs to the car. Marti came out of the bathroom with her box and a confused expression.

"But Lizzie already knows how to skateboard. She taught Edwin and me," Marti said, and Nora giggled and took Marti in a light hug.

"Yes, but Oscar doesn't know that," Nora said with a smile, and Marti shrugged, still not understanding but not invested enough to keep asking. Casey, Nora, and Marti went downstairs for the last time and finished packing the moving truck. Casey would fly back with the girls, and after a weekend at home, she would go to Queens to start the Summer semester.

Normally Casey loved falling asleep on long flights, but her heart was beating too fast for her to relax. Derek had left New York from his short trip to see Casey two weeks ago, and they were still 'Winging it,' so to speak. They talked nearly every night, more or less the usual banter and teasing, but there was something else there. It was impossible to tell how the family would react to the eldest step-siblings 'winging it,' so they had both agreed not to say anything until they were sure. Casey was relieved she could convince Nora and George that she could live by herself in a dorm instead of in an apartment with Derek. They were afraid of her being alone, but she quickly reminded them that she had lived alone in another country for six months and did just fine.

Besides, the idea of them living together so soon after they...they kissed. Casey absentmindedly touched her lips in the memory of those hot at heavy sessions at the club and in her room. She unconsciously clenched her thighs together. They didn't move past the over clothing caresses and kissing. Casey had tried having sex with Jessie, and by tried, she means tried to go for longer than a few seconds because it was just too painful. Jessie wouldn't pressure her to go any further than she was willing, but coincidentally after the third time they tried having sex with no success, Jessie came over to say things were not working out.

Casey had been relieved, but now what? Derek, Casey imagined, had a lucrative sex life in university, and now that they were... whatever they were. How could she tell him that sex was so painful for her?

"Casey. Your cuticles are bleeding." Lizzie said, snapping Casey out of her intense thoughts. She had been peeling the excess skin at her cuticle, and sure enough, little garnet bubbles of blood had appeared around her nails. Casey quickly wrapped her especially mutilated middle finger in a napkin and applied pressure.

"What's wrong?" Lizzie asked and then peered over to the aisle across from them where Marti and Nora seemed to be sound asleep. "It's just me. You can tell me, and then it could make up for totally throwing me under the bus earlier." Lizzie teased and poked at Casey's side. Casey gave her little sister a guilty smile.

"Sorry again about that," Casey sighed and contemplated telling Lizzie everything. Her little sister was extremely mature for her age, but she adored Derek like a blood brother, and Casey knew that this would be jarring even if Lizzie acted supportively. Casey decided on half-truths.

"I am nervous about having sex," Casey whispered, and Lizzie furrowed her brows.

"But you and Jessie never?" Lizzie asked, and Casey let out a heavy sigh.

"We tried, but it was just too painful," Casey admitted, and then Lizzie shook her head.

"From what I have researched, sex is not supposed to hurt. You are not really even supposed to bleed because of your 'broken hymen.' If it hurts that much, he is doing it wrong." Lizzie explained, and Casey couldn't help but smile at her sister. Of course, she researched sex. A quick flush of panic ran through Casey, and she looked at her baby, 14-year-old sister. Had she already had sex? Lizzie laughed at her expression.

"Relax, I haven't had sex yet. Not really interested yet, but I have plenty of condoms when I am ready, and I will make sure I have mom or George take me to get the pill. Casey stared at Lizzie, quite impressed.

"Have you told Nora and George about your well-calculated plan? And where did you get condoms?" Casey was trying to keep her volume down not to alert the other plane passengers. Lizzie shrugged.

"George kept having to leave the conversation to go outside and get some air, but mom was glad I am being responsible, and I got the condoms from Edwin," Lizzie explained. Casey had a brief moment to imagine sweet George trying to compose himself at the idea of his stepdaughter having sex. Casey was sure that he would need therapy after Marti hit puberty.

"And where did Edwin get condoms?" Casey asked incredulously and then realized at the same that Lizzie said

"Derek," they both said in unison. Maybe it was naive, but Casey, the thought of her little siblings being open to the idea of having sex made her queasy. Casey's finger stopped bleeding, and she tucked the bloody napkin into her now empty bag of pretzels.

"Don't worry, things will happen naturally, and now if you want to bail, you can use Derek as an excuse," Lizzie tried to reassure. Unfortunately, her timing was awful, and Casey choked on her water that she had been drinking. Lizzie smacked her back hard, and a few curious passengers turned to check on the commotion. Casey finally regained the ability to breathe and nervously laughed at Lizzie.

"And what would Derek do?" She asked, trying not to sound shrill. Lizzie smiled at her sister.

"Oh well, he can play the role of overly protective brother," Lizzie said but then tilted her head in thought. "I mean, he wouldn't do it for free" She laughed. Casey gave Lizzie a small smile and let out a deep breath, and continued to look out the window. Maybe she was getting ahead of herself. She and Derek hadn't even been on an official date yet. Sure they had gone to eat in the city and run around central park and even went to an amusement park but had those counted as dates? I mean, they held hands through the corn maze, but Derek insisted it was because he didn't feel like chasing after her when she inevitably got lost.

Casey smiled at the memories. Something else that made her chest flutter was waking up next to Derek. She missed being held while she fell asleep, but it's not like they could do that right away at university. There were rules. Weren't there?

Edwin had just passed his driver's license and was glad to volunteer to pick them up at the airport. He had seemed to have grown several centimeters in the six months Casey had been away and now was slightly taller than her.

"Edwin, look at you!" Casey said as she attacked him in a bear hug. Edwin grinned and twirled so she could see his new and improved preppy wardrobe too. His jeans seemed uncomfortably tight, and his polo was maybe a bit snug, but his face was losing its baby softness, and he had a ghost of a mustache on his upper lip.

"I know, your little brother Edwino is all grown up and looking cool," He said, and Casey couldn't help pinching his cheek.

"Aww, you are so cute." She said, and he shrugged off her pinching.

"Casey, cute isn't cool. I am a man now." Edwin protested. Marti laughed as she passed her brother.

"Really, you're a man now. Why didn't we get the memo." She snickered, and Lizzie laughed as she went into the backseat to join Marti. Nora squeezed Edwin's shoulder reassuringly.

"Aw, don't listen to them, Edwin. We know you are a man, and speaking of which, we can start talking about when you can pay for your car insurance," Nora said, and Edwin gulped. Casey road in the back with the girls and Nora road shotgun. They were all talking animatedly, talking about school, Simon, and generally anything in the neighborhood. Casey was excited to see Emily. They had coordinated to see each other the next evening. Casey was hoping to talk to Emily about her and Derek, just to be able to talk to someone for advice. Emily and Derek broke up a week after graduation; things just seemed a bit forced. After having a crush on someone for so long, it was hard not to be crushed by the heavy expectation of a perfect ending. Emily actually was discovering a newer side of her sexuality and actually had a steady girlfriend, Ruby.

The house came into view, and before she could get swept up in the nostalgia, her heart dropped to her toes at the sight of the prince in the driveway.

"Wait. Why is Derek here? He isn't supposed to pick me up until Sunday?" Casey asked in a loud and almost shrill voice. Nora sighed.

"He was able to come down for the weekend. Isn't this great, Casey? The whole family gets to spend time together before you both go off to University. So, try to be civil, please." Nora pleased, and Casey sighed and nodded to her mother. George came out with a crying Simon. Casey had been right on her assumption that he had doubled in size. Poor George looked exhausted but smiled at his eldest step-daughter warmly nonetheless.

"Casey, it's great to see you," He said, and Casey hugged him and reached for Simon. The baby was pink-cheeked and bundled in a light green onesie. Casey started cooing at little Simon and rocking him lightly.

"Careful, he just projectile vomited on Derek," George warned after he kissed Nora. Casey chuckled.

"Knowing Derek, he probably deserved it," Casey said with the same cooing voice. She was surprised at how quickly the jeer came to her. Old habits, she guessed.

"Well, he is taking a shower now, so you'll have some time to get settled before you two go at each other's throats," George said and took her dance bag from her shoulder. Casey thanked him and went to sit on the couch.

"Oh hey, Casey, I hope you don't mind. We had to do a little room rearrangement with both you and Derek gone. We moved Edwin into Derek's room and Simon into his old room, and yours into a guest bedroom, so If you don't mind sharing the space with Derek's things. While you're here." Nora said and then clarified after seeing Casey's wide eyes. "Just his things; he will be taking the couch at night." Casey might have a nervous breakdown before the end of the weekend.

Simon started reaching out his tiny pale fists towards Nora, who happily collected her baby. Lizzie dragged Casey up to show her how she redecorated her room, and such was the process for the other two Venturi children. Casey retreated into her old room, now a guest bedroom, and exhaled against the door. She assessed the room. Gone were her ballet trophies and academic achievement awards. Now there was a pale yellow walled, neutral sandalwood furnished and fluffy white carpeted room. Derek's battered duffle bag was on the cream-covered bed. Casey swallowed thickly and thought back to her conversation on the plane with Lizzie. Derek had given condoms to Edwin. Did he pack any for this weekend? Was he expecting something to happen in their parents' home? She had only just begun to unzip the bag when a voice came up behind her.

"Snooping, Case?" Casey shuddered at Derek's warm breath on the back of her neck. Casey jumped and reflexively swung a pillow at Derek.

"Der-rek, you scared me." She shouted and then took an extra step back when she realized that he was shirtless and slightly damp from the shower. Derek had always been lean, but there was a new indent of muscles, especially at the v of his hips from piling more hours at the rink in university, and Casey forced her eyes to stay now lower than his collar bones.

"Yeah, but you were still snooping. What's up Casey, you seem a bit flushed?" He said with a level of sarcastic concern; he couldn't keep the mischief out of his dark eyes. Casey kept her chin held high.

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't bring anything inappropriate that the kids could find, like how you gave Edwin condoms. He is fifteen, Derek," She said hotly. Derek caught on to her real question.

"Well, he's at that age where it's better to be safe than sorry, and though he is not as in with the ladies as I was, it's part of being a big brother," He said and took another step towards her. Casey was already leaning against the nightstand. There was no. Further, she could retreat to. "But don't worry, I wasn't expecting anything this weekend," He reassured and then smirked. "And in our parents' home no less, for shame, Macdonald." He teased and cupped her chin once she let out a relieved exhale.

"Oh, shut up. I just wanted to make sure you didn't have any ill intentions." She said but leaned into his touch nonetheless. She quickly glanced at the door. Thankfully she had thought to lock it. Derek followed her gaze, and with the minor level of privacy, he leaned down and kissed her pouty lips. Casey sank into the kiss; his wet curls brushed her forehead and ran her cool fingers down the side of his face. Derek's hands roamed up and down her sides, occasionally dropping to squeeze her outer thighs. The feeling made Casey release a shuddering gasp. Derek moved both hands to her face and kissed her firmly before breaking away.

"Think you can hold off with just that for now, Case?" He asked, a bit breathless. Casey looked up into his eyes and saw the restraint he was using, so she offered a small smile and let the tips of her fingers whisper down his torso and then stop at his jeans' waistband. Derek bit back a grunt.

"Sure thing, Der," Casey said and turned to head downstairs. When she didn't hear his footsteps trailing her, she saw him with his back facing her and his hands resting on his hips. "You coming?" She asked

"Mhmm, Just give me a minute," He said, and Casey bit back her giggle. Derek let out a breath.

"Oh, don't worry, Princess. I'll pay you back."

Next day

"I'm sorry, run that by me again. You and Derek?" Emily asked for the third time. They were at Smelly Nelly's, and Casey was picking at her salad.

"Sorta. It's just something that happened all of a sudden when he came down to New York. Now I just keep getting all flustered around him and even the thought of him." Casey explained and then gave up on her salad altogether with a groan and holding her head in her hands. "Pathetic, huh."

"Well..." In a high-pitched voice, Emily caused Casey's head to look up and give her best friend a desperate look.

"Emily! I am in a delicate state right now." She complained, and Emily giggled at her friend's antics. Same old Casey.

"Casey, I am your best friend, and so it is my solemn sworn duty to inform you that this is not all of a sudden," Emily indicated with outstretched hands. "You two have had this intense chemistry that you both were too stubborn and thankfully young to understand. I had my suspicions, but I didn't want to jump the gun before you told me and inadvertently caused you to blow it out of proportion." Emily explained and then took a sip of her mint tea. Casey was in open-mouthed shock.

"I don't blow things out of proportion." Casey protested. Emily pursed her lips into a knowing smile. Casey waved it off.

"I mean, this is wrong, right? He is my stepbrother; we've known each other since we were fifteen," Casey whispered. Emily sighed.

"It's not conventional, that's for sure, but as you said, you were fifteen when you met. You didn't necessarily grow up together like Edwin, Lizzie, and Marti have. Have you guys talked about it?" Emily asked. Casey nodded.

"We have; since we don't really know where this will lead, we didn't want to get everyone at home involved, especially the kids," Casey explained, and Emily nodded in agreement and then reached out to hold Casey's hand.

"Casey MacDonald, you are stuck in your very own version of 'Clueless.'" She teased; Casey couldn't help but laugh at that. She conjured up her best Cher impression.

"As if! Derek wishes he were Pual Rudd."

The weekend hadn't been such agony to get through as Casey had predicted. Thankfully with so many people in the house, it was easy to slip a gaze or two, and hand grazes without being noticed. All things carried on well until Sunday breakfast.

"Okay, Derek, now that Casey is going to school with you, be sure to look after her," George said before shoveling down some eggs. Derek was across from Casey at the table and gave a nonchalant shrug.

"I'm pretty sure Casey can take care of herself." He said through a mouthful of bacon.

"For once, you're right, Derek," Casey said with as much bite she could muster. "I will be fine, George, and I didn't need Derek to save me in New York. I don't need him to save me in Queens." She said proudly and continued to eat her avocado toast.

"I didn't know you went to see Casey in New York, Derek," George said, and Casey almost choked. Derek gave Casey a leveled look that read, 'Way to go, Space Case.'

"I take it back; Casey needs all the help she can get. She called whining about everyone being so mean to her, so I took pity and flew in." Derek said a nudged Edwin. "The theater girls were hoooot," and the brothers shared a chuckle. Lizzie made a disgusted sound, and Casey tried to keep the burning blush from rising from her chest.

"I should have let them rip you apart." She snapped. Derek rolled his eyes.

"Please, unlike you. I can handle a few catty girls." He said, and Casey chucked an apple at his head, he easily ducked, but Marti wasn't so lucky.

"Oww, Casey!" She shouted.

"Oh, I am so sorry, Marti." She said, and her stepsister grumbled by something along the lines of 'quit flirting.' Only Derek was close enough to hear, and he froze.

"What was that, Smarti?" He said, and she looked up at her brother, and her dark blue eyes said that she knew far more than they were letting on. Derek frowned at her; when did Marti start rebelling against Derek? Mari batted her lashes at him and smiled.

"Oh nothing, Smirk. I am just going to miss you and Casey when you go away." She said and threw her arms around Derek's neck and whispered so low that only he could hear. "I know."

[ineloqueent]

Starstruck: Part 14

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 14 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 13 / Part 15

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.  

Warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, swearing

Historical Inaccuracies: N/A :)

Word Count: 4.5k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

My birthday had been an absolute disaster, to say the least.

It hadn’t started out as a disaster, waking up with the morning sun warming my face. I normally hated to be woken up that way, because it meant that the dawn had broken into a new day when I’d only just managed to fall asleep. My thoughts kept me awake most nights, and when on a rare occasion they left me alone, the sounds of parties or sloshed band members took up the torch.

But I’d fallen asleep before the dawn on my twenty-seventh birthday, and had awoken with a rather lovely girl in my arms. Sure, I’d woken up with lovely girls before, but that had usually been after a drunken round of bedroom pleasantries, ones that became very much unpleasantries as soon as the night came down.

This had been different.

For one, I hadn’t taken her to bed, but for another, what had been beautiful in the nighttime remained so in the light of day.

She, usually alternatingly vibrant with talk and reserved with intelligent pensiveness, had seemed almost subdued where she lay in my arms. Her hair was messy, no doubt from my lack of usefulness as a pillow, and her lips, subtly pinkened, looked powder soft where her face was nestled against my chest. I felt afraid to move; she looked delicate in her unconsciousness, and my clumsy hand would only shatter her.

Yet I longed to touch her cheek.

Strange, this longing.

From my chest it ran to my fingertips and toes, and stole my breath away, like a thief who’d noticed that I’d purposely left my doors unlocked. Purposely, because I wanted this— I wanted to touch her cheek, to hold her in my arms. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted something so terribly, yearning taking over the few thoughts that did not concern themselves with my general fears of failure in life.

And I wanted to hear her laugh, all the time, because, god, that laugh. I wouldn’t mind kissing her laughter away, stopping only to hear it again.

When I spoke, she listened, listened like she truly wanted to hear what I had to say, not like she was just being polite and waiting for me to finish so that she could leave and get on with her day. No. when I talked with her, my words were light and they flowed that way, stories I’d never told anyone spilling from my tongue as though I believed I had it in me to continue to trust her, forever. As though she and her familiar presence would stay with me forever, would always be there to welcome me home.

But I’d just about ruined it all only a few hours later, in telling her the only truth I’d ever feared to tell her— the truth that would push her away if she chose not to come with us on tour. And of course she’d said no, because her whole life was in London, in the city, and neither I nor anybody else had the right to take that from her. Deep down, I’d known that she would say no, but my naïve and wasted heart had still tried to convince me otherwise, and so I’d asked her.

Now there was nothing to do but to leave and to bury whatever nonsense I’d been carrying around my head for the past few years.

Years I’d spent gazing at her, first from afar, and then from such a closeness that when a sigh escaped her lips, it brushed mine. If anything had been meant to happen, it would have happened by now.

And now, as I gathered my things from around my bedroom at Ridge Farm, it was too late. Six weeks had gone by, and six weeks had brought me as close to her as I’d ever get.

Soon, this would all be a memory. A sickening memory and a fever dream that would keep me awake for many, many nights to come, restless and sleepless and full of regrets of not making something happen when I wanted it to, instead of fucking waiting around for some divine intervention to lead into my arms the girl with stars of lovingness in her hair.

I’d have waited forever if I could.

But life goes on. And if you don’t move, the world will pull the rug out from under your feet and let you fall.

I hadn’t moved, I’d waited. The rug had been pulled, and I had fallen.

Wasn’t that what they said about love? That you fell?

Not that this was love, but hell, it might have become it.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

“Cheer up, Brian,” said Roger unhelpfully. “We’re going back to London to record an album, not attend your funeral.”

I continued to drink my coffee in silence, staring out the window. The sky was grey and the weather threatened rain. Just the thing to lift my spirits. Although, I supposed I was being selfish because the summer had been dry of late, and the farmlands needed water sooner rather than later.

But though the light outside was dim and the indoors were subsequently dark, there were no stars, no little pinpricks of light, to penetrate the gloom. At least in the night, I had that.

What would it be like if we could see beyond the Earth’s atmosphere, see the stars, during the day? she had asked me once.

I hadn’t said anything.

It’d be like looking into your eyes.

That was what I had wanted to say.

“Oh, Roger,” Freddie said, almost despairingly. “Can’t you see, darling?”

“No, Freddie. It’s all smudges and shapes.”

“You really must get that eyesight of yours sorted out. How can you even see the drums? No wonder you keep falling a beat behind.”

“That’s ridiculous. I could play the drums in the dark and you know it, Fred.”

“Brian?” John’s hand fell to my shoulder.

“Hm?” I looked up from my coffee.

Deacy was frowning.

“Are you quite alright, lovie?” asked Freddie, sweeping around the kitchen counter to sit down across from me. Roger wriggled the coffee cup from my grasp before pouring me another mugful, his expression far too concerned for my liking. Attention wasn’t something I relished. Particularly not when it involved having my picture taken. I took all the pictures, I didn’t look good on camera. I didn’t look good being looked at. It was a wonder I’d made it this far in the world of stage business at all.

“You’re moping,” Freddie remarked when I again neglected to answer.

“No, I’m not,” I muttered finally, figuring it would put him off.

An absurd notion, really. Nothing in the world put Freddie off.

“You are,” he insisted. “You’ve been moping ever since your birthday. You were fine in the morning, but then cranky in the afternoon and every day after.”

“On and on like a broken record,” Roger put in. “If I’d had wanted a broken record, I’d have scratched one myself, not asked for you to bloody become one.”

I sighed, feeling too tired to make a proper reply. Perhaps all those nights of staying awake were finally catching up with me.

“You’re all just as blind as Brian himself,” John tutted, passing Roger a couple of sugar packets so that he could get his one-and-three-sevenths.

Freddie narrowed his eyes at me, crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, as though he knew exactly what my problem was. He probably did know. I wouldn’t put anything past him. “Ah. So what now?”

I sipped my coffee. “So, what? We’re leaving, her life is here, ours is out in the world of never staying the same place twice—”

Roger smirked. “I see.”

“Said the blind man,” Deacy laughed.

“See what?” I snapped. “What is it you all claim to see? There’s nothing to see.”

“Darling, no one mentioned Y/N, and yet you jumped to the conclusion that we were talking about her. I’d say it’s all fairly obvious.”

My fingertips brushed the side of my nose in a nervous habit I’d had for years. It always seemed to make an appearance at the mention of one name in particular.

“And there’s the nervous tic,” Roger tapped the side of his own nose, and I hid my hand under the table.

“I was the same way around Veronica,” Deacy said with a smile, stirring his tea. “Any mention of her and my legs turned to custard.”

Roger snorted.

“We know, Deacy,” said Fred. “We were there.”

“Mmyes. I seem to quite forget the world around me when I’m around her.”

The conversation seemed to refocus on more unpleasant matters as all three of them stared me down.

“So did you tell her?” said Roger.

I sighed again. “Tell her what.”

“Not moping, bollocks to that,” Roger muttered. “Did you tell her how you feel?”

“No.” That was all I would allow myself. One word on which to dwell. No more. I would not dwell.

“We’re leaving, and you asked her to come with us, but you didn’t tell her?” Freddie leaned toward outrage.

I set down my coffee cup, a sudden anger slipping into my hands as the porcelain smacked the tabletop just a little too hard. The coffee sloshed over the cup’s sides.

“She said no, in what fucking world would I tell her?”

“In a better one,” remarked John.

“Oh, shut up,” I seethed. “You all act so superior, like you’d have done any better in my place.”

Freddie’s expression had turned sour. “You’re the one who’s acting superior!” he cried. “All moody and ooh, poor me, I’m the only one who’s ever had to cope with such a terrible thing as this.”

“Piss off, Fred,” I growled. “You’re dramatic enough for the four of us.”

“Says you! Pull yourself together, Brian. We wouldn’t be here arguing if you had.”

“Both of you, pull yourselves together,” Deacy berated. “We haven’t even begun recording yet and you’re already neck and neck!”

“Oh that’ll be fun,” I muttered.

“Not really, if you’ll be pining after some girl the whole time,” said Roger. “Should’ve tried that when you were writing songs instead.”

At that I stood up. “Some girl?” I scoffed. “Oh, don’t be so fucking ridiculous! Roger, she’s the only reason we’ve got our manager, she’s the only reason we’ve had this place to clear out heads and write our songs, and she’s the only reason I’ve written nearly four songs for the bloody album and not just two and a half.”

Not one of them said anything.

Then Freddie shook his head slowly. “You’ve got to tell her,” he said. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Drained of energy, I sank back into my chair. “And yet, it’s been going on for years.”

“Years?” said Roger disbelievingly.

I gave a rather pathetic shrug.

“Years?” he repeated. “You’ve been fucking pining for her, for years?”

“Yes, Roger, years,” I said mockingly. “Why do you think I wrote ‘White Queen’?”

Roger’s mouth fell open. “You— you wrote ‘White Queen’ for her?”

“Brian,” Freddie’s expression was contorted, “that was in ‘68.”

“Yes,” I said, feeling my chest tighten. “Why is that so hard for you all to understand?”

John shook his head. “Not for me, it isn’t.”

I looked over at him questioningly, a dull ache that made me wince spreading beneath my skin.

He glanced at us each in turn, then smiled pityingly.

“None of you have ever been in love, have you?”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

“I’m not in love,” I’d spat, my anger replenished.

Love, such a fickle thing. You expressed it too often and you were deemed careless, in-genuine. Too rarely, and every sign of sadness was dubbed heartache. Was it so wrong to simply be sad for the sake of being sad, to feel empty instead of restful when you closed your eyes, to feel your spirit leave you a little with each breath on a rainy day?

What am I going to tell my father?

That was what was bothering me at the moment, not her. Not Y/N.

I touched a hand to my cheek, feeling the warmth that flushed the skin there.

God, I couldn’t even think her name without my shoulders tensing or my face colouring. It was like I was back in the body of my fourteen year-old self, skinny and awkward and shy and riddled with holes of innocence that experience had yet to fill.

How was I going to tell my dad that I was giving up my perfectly good chance at a stable career for a full-time gig as the guitarist for a band that was barely known?

But there was no changing my mind now. Not because it was too late to re-register as an astrophysics student for the start of term in autumn, but because I was tired of neglecting my dream. Could I not have more than one dream? Why did everything always have to be so single-minded?

I loved music, I loved feeling the melodies form beneath my fingers, drawn from nothing by my imagination and the thin air. I loved working with Freddie and Roger and John, I loved what we became when we were Her Majesty, Queen.

I wasn’t willing to give that up. I realised that now.

And so I avoided Y/N for our final week at Ridge Farm, because she made me want to change my mind.

For the first time in months, I missed her Thursday night guitar lesson again.

Then the sun rose on our final day in Surrey, and as I opened my eyes to the sunlight despite having only just fallen asleep, a sickly feeling skittered about in my stomach, the wings of butterflies fluttering against my abdomen.

I’d spent the entire night thinking about the fact that after today, I would probably never see her again.

I sighed, closing my suitcase and sparing the room a final glance. I had not slept much here, but still I had dreamt, faraway sentiments that would never be requited.

I pulled on my jacket and smoothed down the velvet, squinting at my reflection in the small mirror that hung on the wall above a nondescript dresser.

I didn’t look particularly tired, though I might have felt it. Sure, there were smudges of shadow beneath my eyes and little bits of stubble clung to my jaw, but my shoulders did not sag, and tanned skin and rosy cheeks had replaced my usually pale complexion, my hair bore little streaks here and there that were lighter than the rest.

In a way, Ridge Farm had refreshed me. The quiet of the countryside had eased the tension etched into my muscles by the rush of city life, and I’d enjoyed being able to see the stars properly at night.

I’d enjoyed watching them with Y/N.

Who would watch the stars with me, and indulge my silly ramblings?

Who would stand up for me even when my opinion was ridiculous, or tease me when it was perfectly sound?

Who would leave me with a theory or a quip that would resurface in my memory when I felt uninspired or glum? Who would leave me with something to smile about when darkness hovered too close at the edge of my vision?

Who would be there to banish it all from my wretched mind?

With each thought, I felt dizzier at the prospect of just leaving, without… Well, without anything.

She deserved to know, didn’t she?

And yet, I deserved to keep my secrets, did I not?

I could allow myself a little dignity, at least.

What would I tell her anyway? That she both grounded me and made me feel like I was flying? That I would take her with me to space if I was to go alone, because I didn’t want to be alone if it wasn’t with her? That I felt my soul became made of stardust when she walked into a room?

People didn’t say such things, and without saying such things, I couldn’t tell her what it was— whatever it was— I felt for her, if I felt anything at all. It was hard to tell whether her presence terrified me or comforted me. I didn’t understand how I felt about her, really, and that was my problem.

“Brian!” Freddie shouted for me like it wasn’t the first time he’d called.

“Coming,” I muttered to no one but myself. I picked up my suitcase by its wooden handle and slipped my socked feet into my wooden shoes. I looked about once more, then went into the hall, closing behind me the door to this part of my life.

Mistress Melancholy settled herself into my bones, and she unpacked her bags, here to stay.

Down the stairs and into the living room, and there they were all standing.

Freddie and Roger and Deacy and Veronica and John Harris and Crystal and Heather and Mary, and… And Y/N.

Take my breath away, why don’t you?

But her parents and her brother were there too, and I squared my shoulders as I approached. Her dad had only warmed to me as of late, and if he took even a singular glance at the expression on his daughter’s face as I made my way toward her, he would have been right to throw me to the ground in a blind rage.

She did look tired. Beautiful, but tired. Mouth set grimly, her shoulders stiff.

Yet, the sparkle in her eyes had not dulled. And she shone, even in her weariness.

My evening star.

Our two roadies, Mary, Heather, and Veronica were the first to say their goodbyes and go outside to savour the last of the country air, Ronnie carrying little Robert in her arms. Roger would first ferry Crystal, Roadie-John, Freddie, and myself to the train station, then return to take himself and the others back to London via his beloved Alfa.

Hugs and kisses and generally well-placed sentiments of gratitude and affection were shared all around, between thanking Y/N’s parents for their hospitality and telling Y/N that she would be sorely missed in the days to come.

Freddie, Rog, Deacy, and I stuck around to say our own final goodbyes, with Y/N’s parents naming us family and welcome at any time, and everyone reminiscing about our time at Ridge Farm.

Y/N was mostly quiet, and I was silent altogether, my eyes only leaving her when her gaze flicked in my direction.

I wondered what she was thinking, if she would think of me, as I would think of her, when I was gone.

Roger excused himself to go to the car, no doubt fearing that the others would have trashed it in his absence.

“You’re in love with that car,” I said, sighing.

Roger shouted, “BETTER THAN WITH YOU, you nErD!”

Then Y/N laughed, and upon instinct, I smiled.

How lovely it felt, to smile. I should smile more often.

“I’m going to make sure he doesn’t get up to other things out there,” said Freddie, going after Roger. “Au revoir, darlings!”

“Au revoir,” Y/N’s parents responded.

Deacy left as well, offering a smile as a parting gift.

I cleared my throat.

“Thank you again for having us, Mr. and Mrs. Andrews,” I said, and when Mrs. Andrews held out her arms to me, I embraced her.

“Anna, dear. Please call me Anna,” she smiled as radiantly as her daughter. “It was so lovely to have you here.”

Then, to my surprise, Y/N’s father addressed me. “And I’m Sebastian to you, son. You’re in good company. No need for formalities.”

“Well, thank you Mr.— Sebastian,” I cringed.

“Brian,” Frank nodded to me, and I returned the gesture.

“Frank.”

Then, before I realised what was happening, the three eldest members of the Andrews family had left the room.

Y/N and I were alone.

I racked my mind for anything, for what to do, what to say, but I came up with nothing when she smiled at me.

She turned my mind to a puddle.

“Time to go, I suppose,” she said.

“Yeah,” I murmured, unable to take my eyes from hers, “I suppose.”

She felt so far away, as though I was already gone and it was too late to reach for her.

And still, I said nothing, for what could I say?

“You’re the reason why I play, you know,” she said.

I furrowed my brow. “What?”

“Guitar. I never would’ve kept going if I hadn’t seen you perform. I was so close to giving up. But, and sorry to be sappy,” here she gave a little laugh, “you inspired me.”

I inspired her? Now here was a reversal of roles. ‘White Queen’ was hers, and so was ‘‘39’. It was all hers.

“Did I really?”

She laughed again, and I had never heard a lovelier sound, even if she presently was laughing at me. “You’re too modest, Brian, and you’re insanely talented. I’ll never be that good, even if I were to practice every minute of every day.”

Her words tore at my heart. I had never felt so… so appreciated, so admired, so loved.

“If you keep playing,” I said, “I have no doubt you will be better than me. Easily, in fact. I’m not exactly the world’s most technical guitar player.”

She peered up at me beneath her eyelashes, her lips parted softly.

I couldn’t stand it.

I reached for her, tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. My touch lingered on her skin, and I found myself drifting toward her. She held a pull over me that gravity could only have dreamt to replicate.

Then, realising the intimacy of what I’d just done, my fingers curled into my palm and I stepped back.

“Brian—”

I would not dwell. And I would not stay around to hear her ask me to leave.

“Until next time, Y/N.”

And that would have been that.

Except she just had to say my name again, didn’t she?

“Oh, dammit, Bri. Come here.” Her hand brushed my shoulder. I pulled her into my arms.

Her heartbeat fluttered against my chest, and I missed her already.

I didn’t— I couldn’t— hug her cautiously this time, the way I normally did, gentle and only just there, driven by the fear that she would disintegrate beneath my hands. This time, I embraced her as though it were the very last time, because it might very well have been.

And then words slipped from my lips, my heart in control of everything and my mind tossed out the window.

“I don’t think I can stand an entire summer without you,” I said. She nestled further into my embrace, and despite everything, my heart soared.

“Not an entire summer,” she replied. “Just half.”

“Y/N,” I hummed pathetically.

“Bri.” She too sounded anguished.

“May I come see you? Just me?”

She said nothing, only held on to me, and really, what more could I ask of her?

“Or let me take you out,” I murmured. “Somewhere. Anywhere. Anywhere you want to go.”

“Anywhere?” she whispered.

“Anywhere,” I whispered back.

“I’d love that,” she said, and my breath caught. She’d love it. “Soon?”

I drew back from her, to see if the expression on her face was as genuine as the sound of her voice.

It was.

“Soon,” I promised, and I did not lie. I was already planning my return.

And then I leaned down, the thrum of my pulse far too loud in my ears to listen to reason.

I kissed her cheek.

Briefly, but kiss her cheek I did.

“Bri,” she sighed, and her hands wound around mine.  

“It’s difficult.”

She looked puzzled, but I didn’t elaborate.

It’s difficult. To leave you. But I must.

Mustn’t I?

I took my hands from hers and made for the door.

It’s not too late. You can still turn back.

Can I?

Could I?

No. I would not take her life from her in this way.

“Goodbye, beautiful,” I said.

I will not take her life from her, I will not take her life from I will not take her life from her—

Oh, but I wanted to be selfish.

For once in my life, I wanted something so badly that I couldn’t let it go.

I wouldn’t let her go.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You touched your cheek.

He was gone.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

And then he wasn’t.

In the doorway he was standing, the sun his backlight, a fallen angel who was still very much an angel.

“Come with us. Come with me,” he sighed wistfully, fingers wrapped around the doorframe so tightly that his knuckles turned to white.

You had rarely seen such raw emotion in your life, never known desperation so pure, outside of yourself.

But here was Brian, hanging onto the door as though it were his last hope to remain standing, and gazing at you like you were his only hope at all.

“You’re my best friend,” he breathed.

And then abruptly, it all became very clear to you. Utterly simple.

You wanted to go with Queen, with Brian, and staying behind would only mean once more sacrificing your own happiness in the pursuit of pleasing others.

Brian made you happy, damn it, and you were tired of hopelessness. You wanted to be happy, and for once, you wanted your own happiness enough to realise what it was you had to do.

“And you’re mine,” you said.

Mine. No more than a word, and yet it brought such a sense of belonging, a swell of warmth through you that could have outshone Sirius in all its glory.

Brian’s face broke into a smile, and involuntarily, so did yours.

He knew, even before you’d said it, that you were coming with him.

And when you returned to the living room ten rushed minutes later with your suitcase packed, your parents were there to kiss you goodbye, even if your dad did so reluctantly. But you explained hastily what it was you had to do, and promised that you would explain in further detail as soon as you could. You were an adult; this was your choice to make.

The truth was, you had no idea what came next, not in terms of school or residence or anything at all, but what did it matter? This was the adventure of a lifetime, to run away to god knew where with a rock and roll band, and if a little of spontaneity was to dictate your life for a while, then so much the better. After all, what was adventure without an element of spontaneity?

You ran out into the sunshine of the late afternoon, and Brian was there to take your hand.

The others gave a raucous cheer as the two of you appeared in the driveway, whoops and claps echoing around the courtyard to be met with recklessly happy laughter from you, from Brian.

It would seem you had always been part of the plan.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

taglist: @melting-obelisks​ @sgt-stardust-killerqueen​ @hgmercury39​  @topsecretdeacon @joemazzmatazz​ @perriwiinkle​ @brianmays-hair​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @ilikebigstucks​ @doing-albri​ @killer-queen-87​ @n0-self-c0ntro1​ @archaicmusings​ @cloudyyspace​ @annina-96​ @themarchoftherainbowqueen​ @annajolras​

Masterpost / Part 13 / Part 15

[dopescotlandwarrior]

The Dancer-Chapter Nine

                    A special thanks to @statell​ for all your help and wisdom

Previous chapters on AO3

Chapter Nine

Claire’s dance was torturous and punishing as she released her sadness, fear, and loss to the music. Her aerials were dangerously high as she was seeking the quiet solitude of… Madu pulled her to a chair and held onto her while she fell apart again. He was terrified by what he saw her do and wondered if she intended to smack her head on the wood floor. He didn’t care if she wanted space and alone time. He would hear her scream at him, but he would not leave her.

John saw Jamie from across the store and jogged to him until he saw the rage on his face. So she had done it, and this was the result. He felt suddenly afraid for Claire.

Jamie followed him up the stairs to the office and stood in front of John like a menacing mountain.

“Tell me what ye know of it then. Leave nothin out. Why did she tell ye who she was?”

“She didn’t, in fact, she nearly had a meltdown when I told her I knew. I recognized her the night we had dinner at Omar’s and waited a couple weeks to try to understand what was going on. I asked her about it coming back from Lallybroch last Easter.”

John did not like the energy coming off Jamie and felt no desire to sympathize or placate him. Clearly, it had not gone well for Claire and his heart hurt for her, but Jamie, he could care less about at the moment. Whatever long term pain he endured would be his own doing.

“Did ye lie to me on her behalf?”

“No.”

“Did ye know she was moving in with me in Glasgow?”

“No.”

“How did ye have such a close relationship with her?”

“I didn’t Jamie. She was the kindest soul I had ever met but we didn’t confide in each other, never spent time socializing, except for Easter with you. She was very private and refused to speak about her relationship with you or her secret life. I tried a couple of times and she just didn’t answer.”

Jamie’s anger was collapsing, and he looked around like he didn’t know where he was, his whole body seemed to deflate.

“We had one conversation, on the ride home at Easter. She told me what she did to you, but I had to pull it out of her. She couldn’t cope with her own brutality and pushed it out of her mind.”

Jamie's face suddenly went back to rage as he prepared himself for another truth about this lying girl.

“She had done things to you when she still hated you for running her out of business. You and I both know there are ways of dealing with that situation that would have been much kinder. You opted for a different solution, get rid of the ugly bookstore by the fastest means possible. Yes, she hated you for it and she disgraced you by dancing in front of you and turning her back on you to bow to the rest of the audience, thereby shunning you. She said you tricked her into a coffee, and she didn’t hate you anymore, but the deed was done. She had laid the hurt on you so to speak and now didn’t know how to undo it.”

John watched Jamie’s face go from murderous to contemplative to baffled. He looked at John like he had not a clue this was going on.

“I told her you wouldn’t know that type of retribution even if someone pointed it out at the time. But to her, it was unforgivable and she was already in love with you.”

John spoke softly hoping his words would pierce his heart like a sharp sword. People like Jamie were used to playing the almighty with the lives he disrupted in the capacity of his job. A heartless existence that he fell back on when she was pouring her heart and soul out to him apparently.

“Tell me, when she told you what she had done were you thinking of her life, her heart, her reasons, or did you focus on your own?”

Jamie’s eyes bounced around the room like he was a caged tiger. John’s questions were upsetting him, and he could not face the answers he knew to be true. He felt worse and more confused than when he pulled into the bookstore, at the time believing he would hear more poison about her character. His head was spinning, and he launched from the couch where Claire had laid last winter when she passed out in his store. He left quickly, running down the stairs and out of the store. He sucked air into his lungs and felt tears coming. Tears he denied the night before when she was crumbling in front of him. What had he done to the woman he loved? He became the heartless businessman, a thick skin so natural after nine years of hurting people. As her truth, and tears came pouring out, he slipped into the man without a heart and abandoned her.

Jamie walked the streets of Edinburgh like a lost soul, finally his right mind was correctly attached to his heart. He replayed a mind video of Claire sparkling around his house, jumping on him when he came home, cooking all afternoon for his pleasure, becoming a goddess when he held her. When the real Claire finally came back to his judgment he started to hurt, really hurt, deep in his soul until he could hardly put one foot in front of the other.

Madu escorted Claire to the dressing room, looking away when she shot arrows out of her eyes at him. She felt the sting of tears when the normal smells of the restaurant brought her memory back. She sat on the couch and made a heroic effort to push back on the tears. She heard a voice. The voice of her best friend sounding sad and sorry. Claire looked up at Geillis standing in the corner, with her own tears shining in her eyes. Claire ran to her and the women cried together, Madu cried on the couch.

Geillis was the salve to Claire’s heartache and broken spirit. She coo’ed her sympathy and dabbed her eyes with a tissue, telling Claire she had a full and glorious life to look forward to. Geillis loved Claire like a sister and had feared this outcome from her confession to Jamie. It is why she stayed away so long, she couldn’t stand knowing what would happen to her friend. Now she had to help hold her together until she could start to heal and let Jamie’s memory fade.

On the other side of town, a car full of girls celebrating a bachelorette party came gunning for the restaurant. The girls were already high from whisky shots and a shared joint. They laughed hysterically and passed an advertisement for the world’s best belly dancer coming back from her time off. The girls did their best impression of a belly dancer and the car rocked with laughter. They were heading for the restaurant and a party sure to become legend.

Geillis helped Claire into her costume and gushed over how pretty she looked while Claire concentrated on pushing her tears back. Geillis sat with her on the couch and held onto her while Madu left for a bit. He took long strides through the streets, head down, hands stuffed into pockets. He felt like the world was ending because his world existed in the eyes of his dancer. He passed a big man on a sidewalk, head down, looking like he lost his best friend. That snapped Madu back to reality and he crossed the street to get back to Claire.

The pile of girls burst into the restaurant and Omar came running, recognizing the large number of girls who were here to spend money on a memorable night. One of the girls had become snarly and pissed off, telling the others how her brother had been hustled by the belly dancer here. The more she talked about it the madder she got. When the group was seated, Jenny got up and made her way to the door near the stage. She figured it was the dressing room and the bitch would be inside, counting her ill-gotten gains no doubt.

There was no knock, no warning of impending doom. When Jenny crashed through the door Claire looked up and nearly fainted.

“Claire? What the fuck is goin on, why are ye dressed like that? Why are ye cryin darlin?” Jenny looked around the room, looking for the belly dancer. There was no one else there, just Claire and some redhead. The truth started kicking her brain with a force that nearly laid her out. Eyes narrowed and she pointed at Claire as the memory of her broken brother filled her head. She lost it and closed the gap between her and the Jezebel in veils.

“It was you, ye dirty fuckin, lyin whore!”

Claire stood and tried to reason with Jenny until ruthless hands came out of nowhere and launched Claire into a makeup station. The force was so severe two of Claire’s ribs cracked in half, dangerously close to her lung. Geillis tried to pull Jenny away from her and was screaming at the top of her lungs as Jenny approached for another beat down.

Claire looked up into the eyes of her friend as closed fists were thrown at her face sending her to the floor. Every object within arm's length was bashed into the dancer’s head followed by severe kicks to the sides of her body driving the rib into her lung. Jenny stood up looking for something heavy and picked up a side table holding it over her head to bring down on Claire.

She was already unconscious. She did not feel the intensity of the blow that hit her face and brutally crushed her nose and eye orbitals. One lung was collapsed, and blood poured from every break in her perfect skin. Jenny stood to find another object and was pulled to the ground by her hair. A heavy knee pressed into her neck as Madu battled with the need to end her life. He could hear sirens coming and police were jerking him to his feet. The room was in chaos and the paramedics shoved everyone out as they worked to save Claire’s life. She was little more than a bloody pulp on the ground.

Outside, Jamie drove by the restaurant on his way out of town. In his exhaustion and depression, he didn’t look at the restaurant that had taken so much from him. He barreled toward Glasgow as Claire’s life slipped away.

The paramedics had to shock Claire three times before restoring sinus rhythm to her heart. They ran the gurney to their vehicle pushing a line into her arm, the phone to the hospital pressed against a head as doors crashed closed and the siren wailed. The ER team did their best to pull her back to the living as blood, urine, and other tests were run to the lab.

Madu and Geillis sat in the ER waiting room looking shell shocked. White faces and vacant eyes were stuck on the floor and tears fell freely every now and then as they remembered the beating and the blood. The police had questioned them at length once they were separated. They tried the usual tricks to scramble their minds as they rapidly barked questions, finally concluding they were both reporting the attempted murder of a dancer. Jenny was arrested but her buzz had worn off and her girlfriends had left without her. She wailed like a stuck pig demanding they call her brother and screaming it was self-defense.

Claire was wheeled into surgery an hour later to remove her ruptured spleen and when Geillis looked at her friend, she was unrecognizable. Several hours later the doctor approached Madu pulling off his mask and asked him for a word. The two men stood in the corner, heads bent, and Madu cried and shook his head no. Geillis thought her heart would stop as she watched him. She stood and waited for him to come back and deliver the news, whatever it was. Madu walked back to Geillis wiping his tears with his sleeve and taking a deep breath. He held Geillis’s hands and exhaled.

“We may lose beautiful dancer.” Madu broke down and Geillis held onto him fiercely telling him she would survive, she won’t die.

At three o’clock in the morning, an officer approached and sat next to Geillis. He spoke while looking at his notepad and asked Geillis several questions. He stated there were several death threats received at the restaurant after Claire was taken away. The owner signed his permission for the police to use their technology to identify the phone numbers that were hidden by the caller.

“Do ye know someone with the last name of Dunsany?”

“Yes.”

“What about Hawkins?”

“Yes.”

“Ye need to come to the station for a statement. It’s important to yer friend.”

Geillis asked Madu to stay with Claire and she has led away to a squad car.

Jenny screamed like a banshee from her cell all night long. She was promised a phone call when she stopped screaming but it didn’t stop her, and the phone call was withheld until well into the next day. The hospital staff asked Madu for the names of her family members and learned there were none. The administrator pumped him with questions to jog his memory of a brother or distant cousin to which Madu shook his head. Several hours later Madu was allowed to see her for five minutes. He almost fainted at the sight of her face swollen beyond recognition, but he dropped to his knees and whispered something in her ear, and this continued until he was escorted away.

The hospital staff hoped Madu would bring her out of the coma so she could start fighting for her life. They watched her closely after Madu’s visit and like the miracle they hoped for, her eyes opened several hours later.

Next Geillis could see her for five minutes and the two women cried and gripped each other until the nurses pulled Geillis away. Claire was inconsolable and was finally sedated.

A nurse spoke to Madu and Geillis asking them to go home and get some rest so they could be of help to her when she was stronger. They finally agreed and left the hospital with hollow eyes laced with fear.

Jamie slept fitfully in Glasgow. He had walked for hours finally returning to his truck long after the bookstore had closed. Knowing Claire was doing the dance of seduction at that very moment made his knees week and his heart pound. He had to get away from this city and his crumbling heart.

He saw her clothes and belongings all over his house and dropped into his bed once it was pitch dark and nothing left to see. Sometime during the night, he dreamed he was making love to the Sassenach, her face smiling up at him as she shattered. His eyes opened and he looked for her until he remembered, and his world fell apart anew.

The following day Jamie’s phone vibrated in his pocket during a meeting with the architect and a contractor who were at each other's throats. He ignored the call to play referee wishing they would both just disappear.

An hour later Jamie was hanging off a very high ladder feeling his phone vibrate as he inspected wiring laced through the metal slats that reinforced the walls on the second floor. He felt the phone vibrate and ignored it.

At eight o’clock that evening he was hunched over his blueprints after hours of unsuccessful focus, but he felt better here, protected from the reality of his life. He didn’t want to return to his home and see her clothes, or her handwritten notes making his heart hurt with her memory. His thoughts turned to John’s weird behavior at the bookstore the day before. He acted like Jamie was the enemy and brute that had hurt her deeply when he was the victim in this mess.

He reached for his vibrating phone and took his last breath in the sane world he had controlled his entire life.

She was screaming into the phone with what little voice she had left. Something went wrong at a party and one of the girls tried to kill her. She needed Jamie to come to Edinburgh and sort this out, get her out of jail. She was crying hysterically and Jamie ran out of his office to save his sister. He pushed his speed well beyond the legal limit and was in Edinburgh in forty minutes. He tried to post Jenny’s bail but was told she was held over to see the judge.

He asked to talk to someone in charge about his sister’s arrest. She had played the victim card on the phone and he was shaking mad they were keeping her. One of the responding officers pulled Jamie into a private room and calmly explained what she was arrested for. Jamie just stared at the officer like he didn’t believe him. The officer exhaled a long breath and pulled several Polaroids from a file pushing them toward Jamie.

Jamie looked at Claire’s face and body, beaten and bloody. His adam’s apple bounced in his throat as he tried to swallow, feeling the fear almost strangle him. He launched from his seat with the officer calling behind him, but he never heard a word he said.

The officer had seen enough to know this was a crime of passion. The girl would be charged with manslaughter and probably spend the next ten years in prison. Before he reported this to the chief, he called the hospital to warn them Jamie was coming.

Jamie jumped out of his truck at the entrance to the ER, motor running, door hanging open. When he crashed into the hospital looking wild-eyed asking for Claire two armed security guards flanked him and peacefully let the nurse tell him she was alive so far and he could not see her. Jamie went crazy and tried to claw his way to the patient rooms. He felt painful electricity hit his neck and his body collapsed long enough to be handcuffed and roughly set into a squad car.

On the other side of the world, a man’s voice greeted the caller in Arabic. His eyes went wide with alarm and he clutched the phone with both hands.

“Madu?”

The sobbing voice of his long-lost son hit his ears like a weeping sledgehammer as he consoled his beloved son and promised to fix whatever had befallen him. He waited for his son to gain control and speak to him about what was happening. The servants in the wealthy household alerted Madu’s mother something was terribly wrong, and she came running to her husband, wide-eyed and worried. “Madu, we are here loved son, we will help, tell me what has happened.”

His father could hear the sweet voice of his sister’s daughter, Kamilah, also lost to America for many years, He almost cried knowing he would tell his sister tonight that her daughter was alive, and she was with Madu.

Thirty minutes later his father hung up the phone and waited thirty seconds before barking orders to his staff to prepare for an emergency transport that would bring the children of the family home. He held his sobbing wife and told his assistant to order medical transport from America and report hourly. The staff jumped into action while Madu’s father led his wife to their bedroom where he would soothe her worry.

Madu collapsed after his father clicked off. He listened to the rushed questions from his cousin before turning his head to look at her, “you are coming too”, he said to her shocked face. Kamilah loved Claire, from the first day she stumbled into her studio asking for refuge from a group of bullies. She would do anything for her star performer and friend, except face her father.

The days passed, Jamie was tased and arrested again at the hospital, each time he was kept as long as the law allowed, three days in a cell pacing like a wild animal. Praying all night she would live to forgive him. When he walked into the hospital the third time, he was calm and fighting his impulse to crash into every door until he found her. His little Sassenach.

Jamie blinked at the nurse and asked again. Again he was told that Claire was gone. She had been taken out of the country for protection. That very nurse had flown with Claire to the airport by medical helicopter and watched over her until relieved by the doctor staffing the medical transport. The nurse squeezed her hand and wished her luck.

“She is gone Mister Fraser, never to return and afraid for her life. If you had something to do with Claire’s attack it will come out in court. God save ye then.”

Jamie looked at the fat nurse and wanted to shake her and tell her he could never hurt the Sassenach. But he had hurt her, twice he had wielded his power against her. She had reached out to him, sobbing and crumbling, and he walked away from her.

They should have been allowed the time to heal the wounds and come back together but his sister had seen to that. He drove back to Glasgow in a trance. The only thing he knew for sure is he would not be working on Jenny’s behalf. Let her rot in prison with no hope of a reunion with him.

The days turned to months and then to years. Claire haunted him, year after year. She spoke to him in his dreams and drifted through his mind during the days. He was never so sure, it was she who attached her soul to him. His soulmate, gone forever.

When Claire finally woke up from her medical coma the first person she saw was Madu. His presence calmed her, but her surroundings were screaming sirens in her head. She reached for him, “Madu”. Their eyes connected and he spoke about how he was able to get her out of Edinburgh. There were threats against her life, and he had taken her to safety.

“Where are we?”

“Egypt.”

Claire felt the ground come up to smack her in the face as she fainted against her pillows. Madu called to the in-house medical staff as Claire spun into the darkness that calmed her. She found loving hands there, to hold her close, a voice that promised love and protection. Eyes that beheld her like a treasure. She fell into Jamie’s arms and remained there for many days while the doctor tried to revive her.

Claire’s challenge was finding enough in her life without Jamie, to stay alive for. She couldn’t find anything that would make her tortured life worth living so she gave up, refused to wake or eat, making the doctor concerned for her life.

The first time she was pulled to consciousness, Madu sat on her bed and took her hands.

“By some miracle, your gift survives Claire. You must fight for that life, he or she is depending on you to fight.”

Claire stared dumbly at Madu trying to understand what he was saying.

“What?”

“It was the size of a pea when you were attacked, and survived against all odds.”

Claire’s eyes were wide and frightened. Her hand moved across her swollen abdomen and she freaked out.

“What the fuck Madu, what is this?”

It has been months you have hidden from the world, deep in sleep, but the baby grew. The doctor says you must get up, and walk, eat and drink. Please, Claire.

It was unthinkable to condemn this child to a life without parents, or a parent at least. The baby growing in her body gave her a purpose and a strong will to survive. It was a hard recovery, but she dug in and made the progress that everyone around her said was miraculous. She worked and she worked until her strength came back along with her reason to live.

Geillis reached for her phone hearing the airy sound of a caller far away. She dropped to the floor hearing Claire's voice and cried. It had been almost a year since they took her away and she feared the worst all this time. Claire cried with her and the girls tried to speak and catch each other up. Geillis knew she would never come back and it touched her that Claire would call.

Two years later, Geillis was living in Glasgow and ran to her ringing phone. She held it to her ear and smiled at the news of a growing boy and his loving mother. The women talked for twenty minutes and Geillis prayed she would not ask about Jamie Fraser. Geillis clicked off the call. Heartsick from missing her friend, relieved there were no questions about Jamie. He was getting married to Geneva Dunsany in two months. He worked in Germany, made a fortune, and was living large without Claire. Geillis would walk over fire not to tell her about his happiness.

Her phone rang again and Geillis answered before looking at the caller, it was Claire again.

“I couldn’t stop myself because I have to know. How is Jamie?”

Geillis clicked off, knowing she had delivered the death blow to her friend's broken heart. She prayed that Claire would find the strength to get through this. It was the second-worst day of her life.

Claire slept on the floor, next to her son’s bed for the next four months. Her grief wrapped around her throat first thing in the morning and hung on until she fell asleep. Her only break from the agony was when her wee son smiled at her with his sparkling blue eyes, just like his father. The pain and loss grew less painful as the months rolled on, but each year on his birthday she cried for a whole day.

Claire sat on the train, hearing her stop called out, she made her way to the door. She had been hired by a dance company in London and relocated one month before today. She was finally getting her feet under her and her confidence inched up daily. When the door opened, the crowd of people behind her pushed her out the door with enough energy to lay her flat on the smooth concrete. That hurt, she thought.

Big hands reached for her pulling her to her feet, “there ye are lass.”

She looked up at eyes so blue they took her breath away, the burr in his voice pulled her heart to his, waking her sleeping soul.

“Sassenach! Are ye alright?”

Jamie was in shock seeing her after so many years. The girl who would not leave his thoughts and dreams was standing right in front of him. They were frozen in time, staring at the face that was seared on their hearts. Claire suddenly came to her senses and quickly looked around, for a wife, who would take his arm and lay claim to him. She decided to live the rest of her days without that memory and broke away walking as fast as she could.

“I can keep up with ye easily Claire so ye might as well slow down, or give me that heavy bag yer carryin.”

Claire looked around again for a woman walking toward him. She took off again, telling Jamie over her shoulder it was nice to see him. She walked toward the exit, breathing hard from the effort. Looking back he was nowhere in sight. Guess the wife caught up to him. Coming out to the soggy day she felt relieved to have some natural reason for her wet cheeks. She squeezed her eyelids closed so she could focus and there he was, right in front of her.

[somedayonbroadway]

Consider: Oscar kind of looks up to Jack, in that Jack became who he could've been if he'd handled things better. He was bitter about it for a long time, but, when circumstances lead to Jack giving him a hug when Oscar is going through too much, he breaks down

I love this idea so much!

Read more below!

So, yes!

Oscar met Jack at a very young age. They weren’t close. But they both grew up coming to and from the Refuge.

The first time Oscar met Jack was when he was six. Jack was eight. The same age as his big brother, Morris. Jack was already at the Refuge when the brothers arrived, left on the doorstep by their father who could no longer care for them like he once had.

Morris and Oscar would be separated almost immediately. That’s when Oscar first meets Jack. A smug, beaten and whipped yet seemingly unbreakable boy who Oscar assumes must be a man.

Jack tells all the kids in the same room as him stories to help them fall asleep and swipes them all every bit of food that he can.

Jack was supposed to be sentenced for two years for stealing and then continuing to steal from the Refuge itself. Every time he stole, his sentence extended three months.

He didn’t care.

Oscar always tried to place himself near Jack in the Refuge, drawn for him for some unknown reason. It was probably because he was smooth and fearless and never screamed, not even when Snyder took out everything he had on him. Jack always came back into the room looking just fine, albeit a lot more tired than he had been before.

The first time Jack escapes, Oscar is there.

The guards are taking Jack to Snyder’s office again, to talk about his latest rebellion. Oscar watches Jack swipe some keys from one of their belts. He turns back and gives Oscar a wink and then he’s gone.

He didn't return that night.  

Oscar and Morris are separated for the next couple years, only allowed short visits every couple months and Morris tells his little brother that he is training for a job that will help them both have some kind of future. Oscar accepts that.

Oscar gets a bit of better treatment in the Refuge because his brother works for Snyder. He gets at least a slice of bread every night. He really never got hit or beat. But he never stopped anyone else from getting hurt.

He would try to cheer the kids up, like Jack used to. But no one liked him because he was Snyder’s “pet” as they called him.

So Oscar kept mostly to himself for the next couple years.

Until a familiar boy got dragged into the Refuge, along with another kid, a couple years younger than Oscar, clinging to his side.

It’s Jack. And a boy who Jack claims is his little brother, Racer.

Race is crying for the first day, terrified of this place he’d heard so many stories about. He’s only seven. Oscar’s nine at this point. Jack is eleven.

To calm Race down, Jack let’s him sit on his lap and he tells him stories, allowing all the other kids in the room to sit around and listen as well. Oscar is the first to scramble towards him. And Jack looks at him a little shocked. He recognizes him.  

He eventually lulls Race to sleep and the rest of the kids nod off. But Oscar stays awake. And Jack talks to him for the first time. Oscar tells Jack everything about him and Jack promises that he’ll try to get him out.

The next couple months go by. Snyder takes a liking to Jack again. Oscar can see him wearing thin. But Jack never cries in front of him or Race.

Eventually, Snyder takes Race instead of Jack. It’s the first time Oscar ever hears Jack scream.

Oscar tries to calm him down, but Jack is hysterical. He starts begging Snyder to let his little brother go. Eventually, Oscar finds out that Jack found Race on the streets and was told by his Newsie leader that that meant Race was his “little brother” which basically means he’s in charge of protecting him and showing him the ropes. And Jack just got so attached to him.

Race is eventually thrown back into the room with handcuffs holding his arms in front of him. Jack holds him and tries to pick the locks and Snyder finds them like that. He goes to take Race again, telling him that he was being bad. Jack would jump up to protect him, but Oscar would be the one to stand up for him.

Snyder would take Oscar that night for the first time in years.

Jack would steal food for him the next day. Snyder would stop with the special treatment.

Oscar would be envious of Race who had his big brother right there to cling to all the time. He’d look up to Jack a lot. He wouldn’t understand how Jack could endure Snyder’s beatings constantly and not scream or cry.

Oscar would miss Morris.

Jack and Race would be released against Snyder’s wishes after five months at the Refuge. Jack promises Oscar that he’ll help him get out someday. And he begins to steal food and clothes for him and the other kids at the Refuge, dropping them off at the window.

Jack wouldn’t know who Oscar’s brother was. He would hate Morris. Because Morris was the boy who was hired to “keep the Newsies in line” as it was explained to them.

Anyways…

Oscar would be let out of the Refuge when he was twelve. Jack would be caught the day before he was released for stealing. Oscar would ask him to tell him a story. He was nervous about going out into the world. But Jack would sit with him and they’d just talk.

Oscar would go and work with his brother. Morris would stick to him like glue. Oscar wouldn’t know why at first, but he’d eventually figure out that if either of them did anything wrong, Weasel would hit them. He’d take a ruler over their hands or just flat out smack them.

At some point, he’d find himself crying for Jack instead of for Morris while Weasel punished him for being too kind to the boys.

Morris would be hurt, but he wouldn’t be angry at his brother. He’d more be angry at the world.

Oscar wouldn’t see Jack again until around six months later.

That’s when the legend is born.

Jack escaped jail on the back of Teddy Roosevelt’s carriage. Everyone’s talking about it and Snyder is looking for Jack.

Jack shows up looking like his old self, though covered in bruises and cuts. Everyone ignores it. His brothers especially.

Jack bounds up to the counter with two boys clinging to him. One of them is Race, the other is a boy Oscar barely knows as Crutchie. Jack is excited to see Oscar and greets him happily. But Morris snaps at him and Oscar avoids eye contact. So Jack leaves him alone.

For the next few years Oscar silently wishes he could have escaped with Jack all those years ago. Maybe his life would be different. Maybe he’d be a Newsie. Maybe Morris would’ve come with him. But he has to do his job. He can’t afford not to. So he and Morris are very cold towards all the newsies, even when Jack tries to mess around and be nice to them.

The coldness and hatred only increases with practice over the years. The Delanceys turn some of the boys over to Snyder and Jack stops trying to be friendly when they corner Race in an alley and take all of his earnings from that day, leaving him with a black eye and bloodied nose on the orders of Weasel who told them that the newsies were getting too comfortable and needed a reminder of who was in charge.

After the strike, after the brothers stage Crutchie off to the refuge, Jack corners Oscar. He can’t help it. He just wants to understand. He just wants to know why Oscar helped take another kid to that hell and Oscar would try to push at him and get away from him.

Oscar would eventually break down. He’d tell Jack that since the newsies won the strike, Weasel was taking it out on them. He’d told them that when they find a new warden for the refuge or release Snyder, that’s where they’ll be going.

Jack wouldn’t really know what to do. For years he and this boy had been against each other even though when they were young they’d been friends.

He sees Oscar crying because he’s scared and all he can see are his own little brothers. So he hugs Oscar. And Oscar just lets him. He just cries hard and asks Jack why they’d started in the same place and ended up in such opposite directions.

Jack wouldn’t know what to say. So he’d just hold Oscar until Morris found them and hugged Oscar instead, not shoving Jack away. More just telling him to get lost in a polite-ish kind of way.

Anyways, that’s my brainstorm for that. I love it! Thank you so much!

[believingispowerfulmagic]

“The Nanny” Chapter 36: Recovery

For the rest of her life, Regina would swear that for a moment time stopped. Both Dr. Espenson and Dr. Hopper would explain that it was a survival mechanism, that the brain processed everything as slowing down to help process what was happening and to help with reaction times. Yet it didn't seem like a trick of her mind. Time truly stopped.

She took a deep inhale of breath as she tried to step backwards, almost tripping over her dress. Robin turned to look at her, his blue eyes wide and face white. He reached for her, his hand pressing against her bare arm though she wasn't sure if he was pushing her out of the way or steadying herself before she fell. She saw his lips move but she didn't know what he said.

He let out a grunt, his eyes bulging and his body contorting as his upper body went back while his legs continued forward. Robin then crumpled in on himself, his knees buckling as he fell toward her. She gasped, catching him and falling to her knees as well until she was cradling him. "Robin?" she asked.

Reaching up, he squeezed her shoulder. His lips moved but only gasps came out before he groaned. "Run away. Hide."

"No," she insisted. She glanced down at his stomach, bile rising up her throat. Blood seeped between the fingers of the hand he had pressed there and the truth hit her hard. She swallowed as she croaked: "I am not leaving you."

"He wants to hurt you. Don't let him," he pleaded, gasping for breath to be able to speak. His arm flailed about and she guessed he wanted to push her away but did not have the strength to do so.

She looked up to take stock of the scene. Guests and security held Nat down on the floor, though he kept trying to fight them off. A woman dressed in an opulent red ballgown with a diamond chandelier necklace sat on a garbage pail, glaring at the man. It struck Regina as odd but she didn't pay it any mind. The important thing was that she didn't see a gun in Nat's hand, so she considered him neutralized.

"It's okay," she assured Robin, laying her hand over his and hating how cold he felt. "He can't hurt anyone right now."

Emma jumped onto the stage, a towel in her hand. She knelt next to Robin and reached for the hand he had covering his wound. Looking up at Regina, she warned: "You might want to look away. This is going to be nasty."

Regina swallowed but shook her head. "I'll be fine. Just help him."

"Okay," Emma replied. She looked down at Robin. "I'm going to move your hand so I can staunch the blood, okay?"

He nodded, smacking his lips. Regina held him tighter as Emma moved his hand, revealing a stain so red, it was almost black. Blood bubbled up from a hole in his shirt and skin, making the bile rise back up Regina's throat. She swallowed it down, knowing Robin needed her to keep herself together.

"Shit," Emma said softly, which made Regina's heart race.

"Is it bad?" she asked her friend, growing more scared. Emma looked up and Regina could see the conflict in her eyes – she knew the truth but wanted to reassure Regina. It made Regina feel even more sick.

Emma pressed a napkin to the wound, applying pressure to it before finally saying: "He needs immediate medical attention but I think the odds are in his favor."

"Has someone called 911?" Regina asked, looking around the room to see if there were any emergency personnel present.

"Yes," Will told her, squatting next to her. He looked as pale as the rest of them. "They should be here within minutes."

Emma nodded, looking a bit relieved. "That's good. The sooner we get him to the hospital, the better. You know his blood type, Will?"

Regina returned her focus to Robin, whose skin had taken on an ashen appearance. His body shook and his eyes looked around the room frantically. "Where is he? He can be anywhere, it's dangerous," he muttered to himself.

"Nat isn't a threat," she assured him, rubbing his back. "We're safe. It's okay, Robin. It's okay."

"Need to protect you. Need to keep…you…safe," he gasped out, almost as if he hadn't heard her.

Concerned, she pressed her hand to his cheek. It was clammy to the touch and that worried her even more. "Emma, what's going on?"

Emma looked up, frowning. She had Will continue pressing down on the towel against Robin's wound as she examined him some more. Regina's heart continued to beat wildly, though some relief came when police and paramedics swarmed into the ballroom. They would be able to help Robin and get him the medical attention he desperately needed.

"Over here," Emma called out, waving her hand. "We have a gunshot victim who is losing a lot of blood and going into shock."

Those words sent a shock through Regina and she held Robin tighter, wishing she could somehow transfer some of her blood into his body.

An EMT jumped up onto the stage, kneeling next to Robin. He looked up at Regina. "I need you to let go of him, ma'am, so I can properly examine him. Please."

She clutched Robin closer, not wanting to let him go even though she knew he would be in good hands. Regina worried that if she pulled away, he would take a turn for the worse and she would lose him. Feeling him in her arms assured her that he was still alive, she realized as tears blurred her vision. "I can't…"

"It's okay, Regina," Emma told her, gently gripping her shoulders. "He's going to be fine and you'll still be right next to him."

"We'll all be with him." Will gently pried her hand from Robin as Emma pulled her back toward her.

Regina leaned against Emma, who wrapped her arms around her. With Will by their side, they watched as the paramedics tended to Robin's wound. They then moved Robin to a stretcher so they could move him to the ambulance.

"I need to go with him," Regina insisted, reaching up to Emma and Will for help. "I need to be in the ambulance."

"I think it's better if I take you so that they have plenty of room to work on Robin," Will told her, grabbing her hand to help her to her feet.

She frowned as she let him and Emma help her stand. Anger surged through her as she snapped: "Will Scarlet, are you calling me fa…ahh!"

Pain stabbed at her midsection. She crumpled over, grabbing her stomach as another wave of pain washed over her. Regina struggled to breathe through it, trying to remember everything she had read about labor as she wondered if she was about to give birth while Robin lay bleeding on the stage.

"Regina! What's wrong?" Emma asked, sounding even more panicked.

Between the excruciating pangs, Regina asked: "Do you know what labor feels like?"

"We need a paramedic!" Will shouted. "And another gurney!"

"Was she shot too?" someone asked but Regina couldn't tell who it was. Her vision went blurry as her body continued to painfully spasm.

Someone supported her as she heard Emma speak to someone. "She's about twenty-nine weeks along with twins. Has had an otherwise good pregnancy, no complications."

"And what is she experiencing now?" a strange voice asked.

"Pain," Regina gasped out. "Sharp and strong."

Hands guided her forward and she made out a gurney. She climbed onto it, reclining as someone poked at her abdomen. Regina reached up, hoping to find a friend nearby. "Emma? Will?" she called out.

"I'm right here," Emma assured her, taking her hand. "I'm coming in the ambulance with you and Will is going to meet us at the hospital."

Regina felt herself start to move backwards and she knew they were rolling her toward the ambulance. She tightened her grip on Emma's hand as she saw Robin's pale and bloodied form in her mind again. "What about Robin? Who is with him?"

"John is riding with him," Emma told her. "He's in good hands."

Her hand fell away from Regina's as she was loaded into the ambulance. It only lasted a few moments before Emma climbed in and took her hand again. "You relax and focus on the Beans, okay?" Emma told her.

Regina nodded, noting that the pain was no longer as intense as it had been inside the ballroom but that there still was some in her abdomen. She squeezed Emma's hand. "Do you think they're okay?" she asked.

"The Beans? I'm sure they're fine. You just experienced a major stressor and your body is reacting to it," Emma replied.

Trying to take reassurance from her friend, Regina leaned back and tried to relax. She needed to focus on the twins for now and make sure nothing happened to them. They would all be fine, she told herself.

She was not going to lose her family tonight.

Continue reading on AO3 or Wattpad. Reminder this story is not on FFN so please help spread the word! 

[rogerinas-bra]

Blame it on the Booze

Rating: General to Teen

Summary: After a long practice session, Roger convinces John to go to the bar. Fluff + First kiss

Length: 2,410 Words

Notes: In lieu of trying to write a novel this month, I've decided to try to write as much fan fiction as I can for NaNoWriMo 2019 :)The prompt for this one was Heartbeat. A random Queen fact, from my google research, John didn't begin heavily smoking until the making of the album 'The Works'. And even then he didn't have a cigarette brand he preferred, he would just bum them off of Roger and Freddie. Brian chose not to smoke because he had a loved one die of lung cancer.

AO3 Link

Being in a rock band was nothing new for Roger Taylor. At the age of twenty five he could proudly say he had been in three bands already and he loved it. The lights, the crowds, the girls (especially the girls); He was made for it. He became alive when he stepped out on the stage.

John on the other hand…

John joined their band a few years ago. He still shook at the sound of the demanding crowd and his eyes would become too large for his face. It would take gentle coaxing by Freddie to even get him to consider going out to play half the time.

Roger really could not relate to that sort of anxiety.

The four members of Queen had just spent hours practicing for a show they had coming up soon. Roger, sweaty and exhausted, wished Freddie and Brian good night as they left. Both the singer and the guitarist looked as knackered as Roger felt.

Roger claimed he wanted to stay behind and try to work on the drum line for their song, ‘Ogre Battle’. He and Brian had spent the past hour arguing over Roger’s timing. Rather than shove his drum sticks up Brian’s ass, Roger conceded and say that fine, he’d practice it again. He bloody well knew he wasn’t going to but Brian didn’t need to know that.

Roger leaned back on his drummer’s throne. He stretched his arms while staring off into space. He really wasn’t in the mood to go home anyway, the night was too young.

Someone walked into the room and the sound of their foot steps brought Roger back out of his thoughts. Roger rose his eyebrows and smiled when he saw it was John. “Oh hey, didn’t know you were still here.”

A small smile was returned but John still looked tired and a little upset. While they were playing earlier a string had snapped on his bass. That was what made Freddie finally say they had practiced enough for one night.

“We didn’t have any stupid strings the right gauge, so this’ll have to do for now,” John held a replacement string in his hand.

Roger watched John sit down and begin winding the broken string still attached to his bass guitar in silence. After some time, Roger pulled a pack of Marlboros out of his back pocket. He offered the pack to John first, who politely declined.

Roger put a cigarette in between his lips and chased the tip with a lit match. “You’re just delaying the inevitable you know.”

“Brian doesn’t smoke.”

“Well yeah, because it’s Brian,” Roger rolled his eyes and got up to lean against the wall near John. He blew smoke in the air. “What’re you doing after this anyway?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” John replied as his fingers worked the peg on the guitar’s head stock. He still had chipped black nail polish on from the week before when Freddie had basically pinned him down to paint it on. “Freddie and Brian went straight home so I suppose the bar is out.”

“Aw come on,” Roger leaned towards John and blew smoke towards his face, making the Bassist gag. John glared at Roger as he continued to speak.

“We don’t need those two. Why don’t we just go? We can get loaded, pick up a couple of chicks, you know...”

“You mean that you can pick up a couple of chicks,” John replied. “I happen to have morals.”

“Okay so you can at least approve of the chicks,” Roger tapped his cigarette against the ash tray on the desk John was working at. “Come on, a couple drinks, you and me. We never get to do anything together.”

John glanced at the watch on his wrist and sighed. “Fine, you tosser.”

“A proud tosser thank you very much,” A large grin took over Roger’s face.

= = =

Once John had finished putting the new string onto his Bass the two men left the studio in search of a bar.

“Do you really need to wear your sunglasses this late?” John asked, looking at Roger incredulously.

Roger swept past him and declared, “They’re a magnet for the ladies, they’re essential.”

“Whatever you say, Rog.”

Roger stopped walking in front of a bar they didn’t frequent and looked back at John.

“This’ll do, eh?”

Roger adjusted his hat over his blond locks and took a deep breath as he prepared to woo whatever catch he could find. John wondered to himself if this had been a good idea, seeing as he was probably going to be ditched in about twenty minutes.

However, after some time had passed, John hadn’t been abandoned yet. Roger had ordered a couple beers and shoved one into John’s hand when they first arrived. They took a seat towards the back of the room. (‘To get a better look at who comes in’ Roger had said).

An old TV set rumbled as some sort of sport was being broadcast. Three men with beer bellies were playing pool on the other side of the room and a handful of men who looked as though they just got off work sat around the bar, surrounded in a cloud of smoke.

After about a half hour had passed, Roger decided to get something a bit heavier from the bar and he said to the bartender: “Oi, when do birds end up in here mate?”

The older gentleman behind the bar handed Roger two vodka and sodas, with his eyebrows raised. “Oh there wouldn’t be any tonight, its Tuesday.”

Roger looked at him as if he was insulted. The bar keep quickly added, “We’re near an oil rig site, during the week the women know to stay away because the men are usually here looking for tail.”

Roger opened his mouth to say something but then just huffed, handed money over and grabbed the two drinks to bring back to the table.

“Did you hear ‘em?” Roger said. “What a waste of a night.”

John shrugged his shoulders, and accepted the drink from Roger. He knew he was getting comfortably buzzed now, so he would have to say he was enjoying his night just fine, thank you very much.

“S’uppose the ladies aren’t just staying away from the oil field workers.” John teased. “They heard that Roger fellow was coming and ran to the hills.”

Roger, who had been fiddling with his sunglasses stopped. Glaring at John, he downed half his drink in one go. He slammed the glass down and looked away, crossing his arms.

“Hey now...” John lowered his voice. “Look… I’m sorry, I was just teasing you.”

John’s fingers reached across the table and he grazed them gently over the back of Roger’s forearm to get Roger to look back at him.

Roger’s dark blue eyes were beginning to cloud from the drink. He snorted and pulled out his cigarettes again.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just frustrated.” Roger placed a cigarette in his mouth and smacked the cigarette pack against his palm to resettle the other ones inside it once the pack was closed.

= = =

They weren’t at the bar much longer. After a couple straight shots they were both pretty toasty. Roger pulled on his jacket, signaling he was ready to go, and finally his blasted sunglasses had been put away in his jacket’s pocket.

“Staying with me tonight?” John asked as he shoved his hands into his pockets of his own jacket after holding the door open for Roger to leave through.

“S’uppose so,” Roger said, a pout on his face. “I can’t believe not one girl came to the bar tonight. I’m so horny.”

John shook his head. “I forgot that your filter melts away when you’re getting a little more than just tipsy.”

“I’m not tipsy.” Roger replied. He made it a few more feet before he staggered a bit. “M’kay maybe I’m a little tipsy.”

John laughed softly and nodded to the alley way a bit ahead of them. “We can take a pit stop over there.”

The weather was quite nice for a May night. The breeze was a bit cold but the sky was clear. It was a new moon and a spray of stars stretched across the sky. John shivered a bit as he leaned against the brick wall on one side of the alley. He and Roger were quite alone.

Roger struggled to pull his cigarettes back out of his jacket pocket. Once he had one lit he began pacing back and forth in an attempt to sober up enough to walk to the bus station.

After a few moments of comfortable silence Roger side glanced at John, a frown on his face. “Did I tell you another bloke came up to me yesterday and told me he thought I was a girl?”

It took a lot for John to not laugh. He and his other band mates were well aware how much of a sore spot that comment would have been for Roger. Roger wasn’t short but he was thin for a drummer and he didn’t exactly scream macho man.

“It’s not your fault you have prettier hair than any girl that he probably ever shagged,” John offered.

Roger’s face screwed up in what looked like he was stuck between breaking into a grin and sobbing.

“Nobody ever makes comments like that about you though.”

“S’uppose they don’t.”

Silence fell between them again and Roger leaned against the wall next to John, inhaling smoke then blowing it up into the sky. He was close enough that John could smell the beer Roger had spilled on himself earlier mixed with sweat.

“I don’t get it,” Roger said after some time passed. “Your hair is prettier than mine, and your ass too.”

“Um, I’m glad you noticed, I guess.”

Roger turned to look over John’s face. “No I’m serious, you’d think you’d be told you look more like a girl than I do.”

John stared at him unsure of how to make of that comment, but suddenly his heart was beating faster in a way he wasn’t expecting. He supposed it was just the alcohol making him anxious. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?” John swallowed.

“S’uppose it was.”

“You’re real funny, Roger.”

Roger was now staring at him so intently that true panic did start to course through John. What was Roger trying to get at? John didn’t have a low opinion of himself but he would never say he was the looker of their band. Freddie and Roger had that covered.  

Roger was now looking at John as if he’d never seen the bassist properly before.

After what seemed like an eternity, Roger tossed his half finished cigarette over his shoulder and moved quickly to pin a surprised John between himself and the wall. Roger’s warm, calloused, hand came to rest on John’s lower back under his jacket and shirt. It was a move John had seen Roger employ on girls countless of times. Roger’s nose was touching John’s and the cigarette smoke still lingered on his lips.

“Roger...” John said weakly.

“Deaky...” A sweet giggle fell out of Roger’s mouth as he copied John’s tone of voice, but as suddenly as it had come Roger became silent again

John would not be able say why he didn’t protest or pull away, he liked to think he would have normally. But the combination of the alcohol and the sudden, soft touch made his nerves feel on fire.

Time had stopped for them, except for the strong feeling of John’s heart beating out of his chest, his fingers threading through Roger’s hair and Roger rubbing John’s lower back gently.

Who had gotten the bravery to close the gap, neither of them knew. It was a hesitant kiss at first, like one that would take place on a first date, all lips and not much else. Roger pulled away looking as though he couldn’t believe what they had just done, but then he found his nerve again. His lips crushed against John’s in a deep sloppy kiss.

John’s tongue darted out to meet Roger’s and a natural pace established. Roger’s pelvis ground against John and he could feel that Roger hadn’t been joking earlier when he had said he was horny. John’s grip tightened in Roger’s hair and he felt his body involuntarily jerk against Roger in response.

Roger hadn’t expected that. He pulled away again with his eyes wide and his pupils blown. A soft “Oh” escaped his lips before he went back for more.

John brought his hands unoccupied to Roger’s hip and squeezed it, the denim of Roger’s pants biting into his fingers. A low moan came from Roger into John’s mouth and a blush spread across John’s cheeks.

When they finally broke apart for air, they were panting. Roger was trembling.

Roger then went for John’s neck, planting soft kisses down it, and nipping gently.

John had to bite back a moan. He tried to disguise it as a sigh but he didn’t think Roger had bought that by the way his fingers began to dig into John’s lower back.

“Roger...” John managed to squeak out. “We can’t.”

John didn’t really know what he meant by his statement. They couldn’t because what? Because they were out in the open? Cuz they were two drunk blokes who happened to be best friends?

In the end it didn’t matter though because Roger pulled away entirely at that point. The action wasn’t malicious but John did feel the energy change back to what it was before the moment prior, almost as if a switch had been flipped.

Roger uneasily looked both ways up and down the alley way. Satisfied they had not been seen, he wiped at his lips with the back of his hand and looked over at John anxiously.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” John smiled gently. “Why don’t we go home now? I’ll put the kettle on and we can have a cuppa.”

Relief and gratefulness spread over Roger’s features. They turned and walked towards the road, and went on to talk as though nothing had happened as they headed towards the bus station.

As they walked, John brushed against Roger purposefully and their hands met briefly. Once they crossed the road, Roger hooked his pinkie around John’s and they stayed that way the rest of the journey home.

[zefyre]

Excuse me? How could I miss any of your updates xD?!? Cheking in regulary and the new pfk one s just so swoon worthy! I love how you wrote the whole thing, And you are ofc right, the jelly thing would be more like James (maybe at first just teasing her how he is jelly, then really becoming jelly and last stage would be scared that she does leave dumb him? lol now I want a fic with james becoming jelly! *pretty pls?*). Ugh I loved how you wrote it so much! Cant wait for raising the stakes tbh

aksjhdfd i’m!! so sorry!!! / cries/ this has been sitting in my inbox for almost a year and i started it back when you sent this but couldn’t manage to finish until today when i stumbled onto it in my docs and decided to try again. thank you for your sweet words btw haha, i hope you see this and enjoy~

.

It started when James found Kagome muttering almost furiously one day, a letter in hand and a flush across her face. 

She hadn’t noticed his approach, so distracted by her letter she was, and he felt his curiosity grow to a point where he couldn’t help himself. He casually strode past her, a growing smile on his face when he did so undetected, before he backtracked to sneak up on her. 

Once close enough, James hooked his chin over her shoulder as he simultaneously grabbed onto her hips to hold her steady, so he didn’t get clipped in the chin if she jolted. 

A chuckle escaped him when not only did Kagome jump as he predicted, but she also let out the most adorable squeak, slapping the letter against her chest – an act that piqued his curiosity even more, as if she had something to hide.

“Wotcha reading?” he drawled, resting his head against the side of her own, only to draw back when he saw the flush on her face darken out of the corner of his eyes. His grin grew, a trickle of giddiness trickling up his spine at the sight of it spreading all the way down her neck. “Oh ho ho,” he said with a breathy laugh, “This wouldn’t be from a secret admirer now, would it?

He laughed in earnest when her face twisted in an expression of mortification, a whine escaping her throat. “Well that’s a yes,” he sniggered. He raised a hand, wiggling his fingers pleading. “Are you gonna let me see it?”

With a long-suffering sigh and a reluctance that one would think she was signing over her life, Kagome surrendered the letter, holding it out for James to read. Unable to witness the deed with her own eyes, she shut them and leaned her head back against James’ shoulder to save herself from the grief.

James eagerly scoured the letter and soon realized with a bubble of delight that Kagome’s reaction wasn’t an overreaction – the bloke actually opened the letter with some of the cheesiest poetry he’d ever laid his eyes upon. 

“To my dearest angel, with eyes so faire, even the stars cannot match the luster of your stare,” James tried reciting with somber flair – he managed up until the word “luster", breaking out into pained wheezes trying to hold back his mirth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no more reading aloud,” he choked out when he saw the tell-tale twitch of her eyebrow and the tightening grip she held the letter,  and knew if he kept it up she would looked ball up the parchment without hesitation. “Okay, okay, phew.” As he read on, his smile diminished once he got past the cheesy poetry and the letter took a more earnest turn. “You know him well?” he wondered absently as he continued to read, not knowing why that surprised him so much, and not wanting to know why that idea..  niggled at him, either.

He thought it was just some anonymous, star-struck underclassman writing her, to be honest, but the letter was now talking about a meeting they had in the summer. 

Kagome let out a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a hum. “For a few years now, yeah… He’s a good friend of Inuyasha’s brother. We met over… the summer after fourth year, I think it was, when we happened visit them at the same time.”

He glanced at her, blinking owlishly. “I didn’t even realize Inuyasha had a brother.”

Kagome snorted. “Half brother,” she explained,  “He’s a couple years older and they get on like cats and dogs. He also went to Durmstrang, where he met Kouga.”

“And he’s been sending you these things ever since?” James asked, taking her hand and waving the letter in the air before stopping short, mouth dropping open as realization hit him. He sputtered, laughter bubbling in his chest, “No, no, no, this isn’t the same guy that sent you that singing howler on Valentine’s day in fifth year, is it?

James all but exploded in laughter when Kagome groaned and buried her face in her hands. “You got detention for a week for setting that thing on fire in the middle of the hall!” he crowed, hugging her tightly to his chest in lieu of clutching his stomach, his head folding over her shoulder.

Kagome began to bang her head back against his chest, repeatedly. “That was so embarrassing,” she groaned, sinking against him. “The detention was worth it to get it to stop.”

“Merlin,” he muttered, still laughing, “I think I might be a little jealous,” he teased, pouting his lips at her.

“Don’t be.” Kagome said it so bluntly that it made him laugh again. “I tried telling him I’m not interested but he never really listened. I think he was hanging on in the hopes that I’ll give in one day.”

Now that made him frown. “Not bloody likely,” he muttered, unconsciously pulling her snugger against his chest. 

Kagome grinned and reached up to give him a little pat on his cheek in reassurance. “He’s harmless, if a little pushy maybe,  but I think he does it mostly to get on Inuyasha’s nerves. Now they really hate each other.“ Instead of pulling her hand away, she used it to cup his cheek, sweeping her thumb along the curve of his cheekbone. “Since he found out about you, it’s now like a jokey tradition kind of thing,” she explained, rolling her eyes to add, “Still bloody embarrassing though.”

James felt something in his chest settle then. “Oh,” he said a a small laugh, perhaps a little too relieved, and his chest puffed out a bit. “You told him about me?” he cheesed, feeling smug.

Kagome burst out into a bout of snickering. “More like Inuyasha gloated in Kouga’s face first thing that he lost his chance when we both visited this past summer.”

James was pleasantly surprised Inuyasha did that for him – after all, they got off on the wrong foot last year and things had been awkward around each other ever since, which made the moment’s they crossed paths in the tower uncomfortable to be sure. “He did that?” The ‘For me?’ unspoken, only to have his spirits dampened when Kagome snorted and shot him a look of pity. 

Not for him then.

“They really, really don’t get along,” Kagome explained, laughing once more.

.

.

Kagome continued to receive the letters, but after some time she began to keep the correspondence to herself. They weren’t cheesy love letters, she’d tell him, but more personal in nature and as such it didn’t feel right to share with others. 

James completely understood of course, didn’t mind, but he would be lying if he said there wasn’t a… discomfiting feeling that took to stirring inside his chest whenever he witnessed a certain owl delivering letters to Kagome, one that only grew over time when the letters increased in frequency – when he’d spied the soft smile blossoming along her lips upon reading said letters. 

It got worse when Valentine’s came and she received a package – a gift, more sincere than the obnoxious ones of the singing variety she’d gotten in the past: her favorite flowers and special chocolate truffles imported from France along with another letter that made her smile bright and laugh a flattered sort of laugh and even blush the faintest shade of pink.

The burning in his chest only eased slightly when a Howler came three days later and Kagome immediately panicked, arm whipping out, wand in hand, and lighting it up into flame before the owl could even properly take off from the table – causing a chain reaction of the owl shitting in fright on a fifth year, the tablecloth catching fire, and three sixth years getting drenched with pumpkin juice in a failed attempt to put it out.

Fifty points were deducted that night from Hufflepuff, and Kagome earned herself two weeks worth of detention for the spectacular display.

.

.

It all eventually came to a head one day in the middle of Hogsmeade when James stopped short at the sight of a handsome man with long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and striking blue eyes down on one knee in front of Kagome, one hand cradling her left while his other held out something that glinted bright in the rare sunlight.

“Holy shite, is that guy proposing to Kagome?” Sirius choked out from beside him, equally rendered stunned at the scene, but James could barely hear him over the roar in his head, over the heavy, rapid beat of his heart in his ears, over the monster that grew in his chest at the sight of someone proposing to Kagome.

Over the deafening thought that he wanted to be the one to propose to her, and the… the anger he was taken aback to find simmering hot and foul at the bottom his belly at the simple, and yet mind-blowing fact that he wasn’t the one do it first.

He was just about to turn on his heel and run away, afraid of the scene before him and even more terrified of the turn his thoughts had taken, when a sharp smack echoed out loud the street. His head snapped up to stare wide-eyed at Kagome’s hand still raised and the man’s head turned at an exact ninety degree angle.

“This is not funny!” James heard her shout, her voice strangled and frantic, tinged with disgust as she went on to say, “Put that thing away!”

And to his utmost shock, the man threw his head back in laughter and did as she asked, snapping the velvet box shut and shoving it back into his trouser pockets as he clambered back up onto his feet. 

And, to his ever mounting surprise, pull Kagome into a bear hug that while she didn’t completely accept, she didn’t exactly fight him off like he thought she would either.

Now, James found himself striding closer to the pair, unable to ignore the growing, curiosity gnawing his chest. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, old habits die hard,” James overheard the man say, still laughing. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re as bad as Miroku proposing to Sango every weekend.”

“Hey, she gave in eventually didn’t she?”

Kagome refused to deign that remark with an answer. “Now get off me you big oaf, you know I have a boyfriend. He’s gonna have a heart attack if he hears about some strange bloke proposing to me in the middle of Hogsmeade!”

Striking blue eyes caught James’s and he was startled to see a hint of fang in the smirk the other man flashed.  “Oh,” he chortled, not even bothering to keep his voice quiet. In fact, he projected it so James could clearly hear him. “I don’t think you have to worry about the rumors getting to him first – he wouldn’t happen to be the tall bloke with the glasses coming just now would he? Cause he’s giving me quite the evil eye.”

Instantly, Kagome’s hand snapped out to start wrapping him against the arms to release her, which he did a chuckle, arms steering wide.

Once free, Kagome whipped around, the familiar look of mortification whenever it came to a certain Durmstrang graduate clear on her face, and he already knew what she was going to say.

“James!” she said, a little breathless and on a nervous laugh. “This is, haha, this is Kouga. I’ve told you about him.” She sounded honest-to-Merlin at her wit’s end at that last part.

James crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Am I going to have to duel him for your hand in marriage?” He looked over Kagome’s head to lock stares with Kouga as she suddenly choked. Despite his snarking tone, his gaze was uncharacteristically serious. “Cause I will.”

“What is this, the dark ages?” she sputtered, before waving her hands hastily between them, “And there will be no dueling because that was just his idea of. Of a Joke.” She turned to give Kouga a filthy glare when he shifted a little uneasily behind her, adding in a much darker tone, “A bad one.”

James broke out in an easy smile that still held a bit of edge. “Oh I know,” he said pleasantly, sounding all light-hearted now, even as he smile turned a little smug. “I could tell by the slap. I think even kids in Hogwarts could hear it, it was a beautiful one, love.”

Kagome’s head tipped to the side to study him, and it was the uncertain look that crossed her face that had him inwardly sighing and backing down. He strode over, dropping a reassuring kiss on her temple as he passed her before offering his hand to the older man. “James Potter,” he introduced himself. He also offered a half grin, “I’d say nice to meet you, but, I just saw you propose to my girlfriend.”

“Kouga,” he introduced himself laughing a little, a little nervous. “It, uh, it really was a joke,” he said, taking James’s hand and shaking it. “The ring’s actually for my girlfriend. Fiancé. Hopefully, if she accepts that is.”

“And she will,” Kagome chimed in, giving Kouga another stink eye, “So long as she doesn’t murder us both if she ever hears of this.”

Kouga waved her off with a robust laugh. “She’s in Japan visiting family, she won’t know a thing!”

“She always knows,” he heard Kagome mutter, watching as Kouga suddenly gave a deep wince when she continued to say, “She knew about Valentine’s,” which was when James realized the Howler from back then must’ve been from his girlfriend instead of Kouga and… and that Kouga must have been dating her even that far back. 

Louder, Kagome went on to say something about how Kouga started writing to her about this Ayame, his hopeful fiancé to be, asking for advice and sharing about his ideas to propose, all which James heard but didn’t quite take in completely as he was slipping back into his thoughts.

This meant, that this whole time, the growing… growing jealousy that he’d felt – he couldn’t deny what it was now that he knew – seeing Kagome with the letters… all that worry had been for nothing…

Merlin, he felt like a bloody idiot. 

.

.

It wasn’t until after Kouga left, treating them all to lunch – Sirius included, who had hung back, fists at the ready for the moment James needed him to jump in to help kick the arse of the bloke trying to propose to his best mate’s girl – for his self-admitted “dumbarse stunt” before taking the Floo back to his flat, that Kagome confronted him. 

“James?” he heard her quietly prod, felt her nudge him gently against his side. He turned to see her looking up at her, “Everything alright?”

James sighed, managed a small smile to reassure her, before turning to Sirius to ask for a moment alone with Kagome. He caught on quick, clapping him on the shoulder before getting up and making his way to the bar. 

When he turned back to face Kagome again, he found her worrying her bottom lip. With another sigh, this one fond, he reached up with his thumb to gently tug her lip away from her teeth to save it from further abuse. “It’s not your fault,” he told her with genuine honesty, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers, “I’ve just been a bit thick lately and hadn’t realize it until today.”

“Kouga,” Kagome guessed, and correctly at that. James nodded, squeezing her hand. “I never realized the letters upset you, I’m sorry, James, if I did…”

She trailed off when he shook his head, squeezing her hand more insistently this time. “No, no, this was all me, getting into my own head, seeing things that wasn’t there and never… speaking up about it. I’d thought…” he trailed off, with a rueful, self-deprecating laugh as he confessed, “I’d thought the letters were working on you, I guess. I saw you get them, and how you’d… laugh, or even blush, and built it up to something it clearly wasn’t.” 

James reached up with his free hand to tuck a fallen curl out of Kagome’s face and behind her ear, pressing a kiss against her furrowed brow to smooth it out  smiling when it worked and Kagome leaned into his touch. “Never once realized I was jealous until I saw the bloke today, down on one knee in front of you and a pretty impressive rock in his hand,” he said with a wry laugh.

“Gods,” Kagome breathed out, laughing along with him. “All this time I was helping him with Ayame, it scared the shite out of me when he did it.” Quietly, more hesitantly, she added to say, a pretty flush rising to her cheeks, “Definitely, uh, definitely not the one I thought about… about proposing to me.”

James was not ashamed to admit how breathless her admission made him, the sight of Kagome shyly averting her gaze, her blush darkening further, as he whispered, “Yeah?” and she nodded, biting her lip once again to hide her flustered smile. 

Nor was he ashamed at how eagerly he quietly confessed in return, “I think what upset me the most was the fact that I wasn’t the one to propose to you first, joke or not.” 

Stunned, Kagome steered a wide eyed gaze back up at him, silently mouthing “Really?” and he laughed, a little giddy, and pressed his forehead against hers. 

“Trust me on this, Kagome, I was not kidding about dueling that prat for your hand. And I’d’ve kicked his arse, you know I would.” At her breathless, snorting laugh, James grinned a foolish grin, before he sobered and slipped his hand free of hers to cup the sides of her face instead. 

“One day, I’m gonna propose,” he promised, and watched with rapt attention how her blush returned in full force, mingling with the freckles smattered across her cheeks, and the roundness, the misty sheen her gorgeous blue eyes took on in response.

James felt his heart flutter, so incredibly entranced right then and there, and swallowed down the nerves that was building up in his throat. 

“Not now,” he ruefully muttered, “And certainly not in middle of The Three Broomsticks where all you can smell is the butterbeer and stale fish and chips, but…” 

James trailed off and gazed warmly at Kagome with gentle grin. “But one day it’s gonna be me getting down on one knee, offering you up a ring, riding on the hope you’d grant me the incredible honor of becoming your husband, because as sure as I knew it the day you threatened me with your bat that you were something special,” and James paused, grinning wider as Kagome burst out in a watery chuckle, her eyes way past misty now and almost spilling with tears, before he told her so solemn, so empathetically, with as much emotion and confidence that he could summon, “I know you’re it for me, and there’s not a chance I’ll let you slip away, not if I can help it.”