#that arabian tuck brought me to tears

[megaclubdiolis]

Shilese Jones | US Nationals 2022 Day 1 AA 57.200

· bonus:

#the most beautiful double turn ever

[amorgansgal]

Cruel, Cruel World - I'm Gone

Chapter Two of Cruel, Cruel World! If you'd like to read the first chapter it's here and also on Ao3. This chapter does include description about gutting an animal, but as it's a relatively small chapter you can skip it without missing anything.

Warnings: Depiction of gutting an animal.

She peeps around the curtain watching the strange man make his way through her garden. Even through the windows she can hear the piercing whistle he gives and is amazed when his horse comes galloping up the road towards him, slowing down to a trot and then sidling over. Charlotte watches as he gently strokes the horse’s neck and seemingly murmurs a few words to the animal.

She admires the horse from the safety of her home. The pure white Arabian is beautiful, the soft hair shining like the sun glinting on the first fall of snow. She wonders if the man had brought the horse or found them. For whatever reason she doesn’t like the idea of him stealing the animal. After all, a horse as fine as that should be earned, not snatched away from someone else.

Charlotte sighs and moves back to the table, where the rabbit lay. She had found a cook book that had been gifted to her and Cal by his grandparents. She flips it open to the section that details how to butcher all manner of animals. Charlotte closes her eyes and grimaces slightly. She wasn’t a great cook by any means, how she and Cal had thought that going to the middle of nowhere with no skills - even very basic ones like cooking - was going to work out she never knew!

She has managed to snap the head off and after clearing it up of the fur and ears, chucks it into the pot with plenty of water. She doesn’t know if it is completely correct, but she knew the basics of stock. A few onion peelings, the heads of what withered carrots and potato peelings she has left, a couple of herbs that have managed to poke their heads above the cold, dark ground and she’ll have a fine stew in no time.

‘If you have a gut hook, so much the better.’Charlotte reads the instruction several times. She’s not sure if she would recognise what a gut hook is, even if she did have one.

It’s a mess. Removing the guts is harder than she expected and she wonders if her parent’s cook would know what bit is kidney and what part is the bladder. If she recognised them, she could add them to the pot for stock, but she doesn’t. And a stock filled with animal poo isn’t exactly appealing!

So, she discards them and cleans her hands on an apron. Even then her hands are grimy with blood and she knows her face is covered in mud still. Once she’s fed and her hands have stopped shaking, she can heat some water and wash properly.

She’s too eager for food, the stew has barely thickened and she hasn’t really bothered with seasoning, before she’s ladling some into a bowl. Even while cooking she hasn’t been able to avoid sipping on the hot, savoury broth. It feels like every small sip renews her, each bite of tender meat and half cooked carrot brings life flooding back into her. It has taken willpower enough not to eat the whole thing while it cooked!

She removes the stew pot from the heat, places another pot on the fire with nothing but water in it and then sits at the table with her bowl. Even that small delay felt like it could kill her! She knows she must be careful not to eat it too fast or it could all just come back up again, but she can’t help but groan with delight at the hot, delicious bowlful and finds herself ladling a second portion once she is done with the first.

Her stomach feels round, heavy and satisfied and Charlotte finds herself leaning back in the chair, a hand resting on her waist. The water is almost boiling and eventually she manages to persuade herself to get to her feet and find the old bath tub that’s tucked away at the back of the house.

She’s tugging it along, her mind half pleading not to bother, to curl up in bed and leave it all tomorrow morning. ‘But if I do that then I’ll wait and wait and wait for someone else to save me. I need to save me. Charlotte Balfour needs to save herself,’ she mutters through gritted teeth. Perhaps if she had any neighbours nearby they would think her mad, but she is alone here and she doesn’t even know if the man who helped her will return.

Her heart twists slightly at the thought and she hope he will. She hopes he did not find her rude when she sent him away from her door, but she was too worried about a flood of tears overwhelming her again or that she’d rip into the raw rabbit with her teeth.

She manages to wrestle the bath through the door and into her kitchen. Then she closes all the curtains and carefully pours the boiling water into the tub. She adds some more cold water, then strips off her filthy skirt, blouse, her corset, undergarments and stockings. She grabs a bar of soap, a book about trapping and living in the wild and a linen towel, all of which she leaves on a chair by the bath. Then gingerly steps into the water. The warmth bleeds into her aching limbs and for a moment she luxuriates feeling her pain slowly diminish little by little.

‘Why, Charlotte Balfour, you yourself are a carrot in a stew!’ Cal’s voice in her head is so clear and it is something he would say that she finds herself sitting upright, eyes blinking open and a willing laugh tumbling from her mouth. There’s still a moment of bittersweet realisation when she does not find him sitting by the fire reading a book or whittling a small bit of wood. But it still feels better to laugh at something he might have said, than to mourn every part of him that has been lost to time.

She soaks and reads the book. Carefully studying the diagrams of traps and lures, the description of how to make bait and not inadvertently interest animals that you may not wish to find you. If she can trap animals, rather than shoot or kill them herself then that might give her some time to learn how to use Cal’s rifle, but still have a full belly by the end of the day. She finds herself wishing the strange man had stayed, he probably knows what a Vanilla Flower and Bay Bolete mushroom looks like. She knows Cal did buy some herbivore bait from a general store, but only a little.

She scrubs her face, running soap over her skin and hair, cleaning away the dirt, blood and grime that felt like they had become part of her whole being. As the water becomes murky and a layer of dirt begins to float on the surface, her idea to wash her clothes seems foolish now, she should have done that first. But that is a new lesson learnt. Tonight, she will salt and smoke the remainder of the rabbit and finish the book about trapping. Tomorrow she will wash her clothes, she will make one of the simple traps, she will read a new book about herbs, she will live and learn. Charlotte Balfour will survive and what’s more she will thrive.

[awesomenightfall]

[’til death]

Haven’t written in 5ever and this is my first time writing Furuba ficlet! Rated PG, Ritsu/Mitsuru, Ayame/Mine, some mentioned others. Unbeta’d. 1,887 words.

With Ayame’s wedding looming, Mitsuru thinks, not for the first time, that they should definitely elope.

---

The invitation to the Sohma/Kuramae wedding was so big, so bedazzled and lace filled, that it had to be hand delivered to Mitsuru’s doorstep because it was too enormous to fit into the mailbox.

It was more box shaped than a standard paper invitation, Mitsuru observed, and knowing the ostentatious nature of her boyfriend’s relative, she wouldn’t have been surprised if live doves flew into her face when she opened it.

This was even fancier, if possible, than Ayame's baby announcement from the prior year. The pink lace monstrosity had taken a lot of people by surprise, but Ritsu sobbed hysterical happy tears for “Ayame-’niisan” and knitted no less than 12 pairs of baby socks for his new little cousin.

The older Sohma relatives were apparently not as impressed with the gaudy announcement or the out-of-wedlock baby girl that Ayame had brought into the world. The whole thing had been "Terribly scandalous," Ritsu's mom told her in a stage whisper, clutching her metaphorical pearls, "a baby before marriage and with his employee, no less… his mother almost had a nervous breakdown."

Her first thought: Wow. Rich people sure do things differently.

Her second thought: Am I going to have to see The Spawn of Satan - Shigure-sensei - at this wedding?

Ritsu, the sensitive, romantic soul that he was, was already blinking back tears by the time she pulled the velvet invitation out.

“I’m so happy for Ayame-’niisan and Mine-san. They’re such a kind, wonderful couple,” Ritsu sniffled, pausing from his knitting. He was curled up on her worn brown couch underneath an old blanket, hands working diligently at the tiny mittens he was knitting for one of his relatives' upcoming babies. They were adorable, of course, with a kitten motif in soft orange. “And it will be so good to see Hatori-’niisan and Shigure-’niisan again!”

Mitsuru shivered violently at the mention of her old boss. It was a Pavlovian response at this point and no amount of therapy in the world would help her work through it. Her worst fears were confirmed: she was definitely going to have to see Shigure-sensei and she was definitely going to have to be on her best behavior in front of Ritsu’s parents and relatives.

Ritsu lifted the blanket, looking concerned. “Mitsuru-san, are you cold? You should come under here before you get sick.”

She smiled to herself as she slid next to him. In the five years they had been dating, Ritsu had come a long way in terms of shyness and self confidence. He still asked if it was okay to kiss her and he blushed from neck to navel at the thought of anything beyond an innocent smooch, but they had gotten past the “apologize hysterically for holding her hand too long” stage and that in itself was a miracle. 

“You’re so cold,” Ritsu said softly, setting the knitting needles down on the coffee table in front of the couch. He tucked her into the blanket next to him and took her hands in his, rubbing them for warmth. “Maybe we should plan a trip to my mother’s hot spring resort sometime soon, they’re the best in the winter. And she would love to see you, she’s always asking for you.”

Mitsuru rested her head on his slender shoulder and took this opportunity to stealthily stare at him. He was so cute, she thought. Beautiful, even with his cropped hair and more masculine clothing. And he was so darn sweet, always worried about her, worried if she was working too hard, if she had enough to eat, if her new clients were treating her right. 

She had always thought she would die alone in her house surrounded by Shigure’s unfinished manuscripts with only cats to keep her company; Mitsuru never thought she could be so happy.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, catching her gaze with his own. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Do you not want to see my family? You -- you don’t have to, I mean. I don’t want to pressure you. Are you too warm? Do you want me to--?”

She put her fingers to his lips, shushing him. “Nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you.”

Her words had their intended effect and Ritsu nearly shot off the couch in embarrassment. “N-no no no no, Mitsuru-san! I’m the one that’s lucky to have you!” he babbled, face red. “I’m not --”

Mitsuru cut him off with a gentle kiss; the most effective way, she learned over the years, to stop his self deprecating apologies. “Ritsu,” she said with a smile. “I love you.”

Immediately his eyes glistened, even though he had heard this from her hundreds of times before. It never failed to make him emotional and it was infectious -- Mitsuru could feel her throat tighten at the look of gratitude on his face. “Thank you,” Ritsu said quietly, hugging her to him tightly. “I love you, too. And I’ll work so hard to make you happy.”

They sat in silence for a long while, enjoying the company and warmth.

“Weddings are nice, aren’t they?” Ritsu asked, somewhat hesitantly, not quite looking at her. “Being married must be wonderful.”

Mitsuru wondered if he was feeling her out on the subject. She knew he was getting some pressure from his family on proposing and while it was amusing, she didn’t want him to stress too badly. There was only so much knitting and yoga he could do to stave off a freakout. “I think so, too.”

“Y-you do?”

“Of course,” she said, snuggling closer. “To be with the person you love every day -- is there anything better?”

He let out a quiet, “Oh,” but said nothing further, only kissing the top of her head absently, looking deep in thought.

As the comfortable silence returned and she drifted off, a thought so horrifying nearly jolted her from Ritsu’s embrace:

If Ritsu and I get married, does that mean I’ll be related to Shigure-sensei?

The things people do for love, she thought with a heavy sigh, and let herself succumb to sleep.

---

The Sohma clan in its entirety was overwhelming, to say the least. The grounds of the complex were decked out with an explosion of flowers, beautiful against the autumn backsplash. There were gazebos and arches and tables upon tables of food, alcohol, and desserts that spanned as far as the eye could see.

Mitsuru recognized a lot of Ritsu’s relatives -- mostly the ones that had once lived at Shigure’s house -- so she didn’t feel entirely out of place. Shigure had yet to make an appearance because of course he would be fashionably late, even to his best friend’s wedding.

“Mitsuru-san, you look beautiful,” Ritsu said at her side. “I love your dress.”

“Oh? Thank you.” She didn’t even bother to hide how pleased she was that Ritsu thought so. The black, long sleeved cocktail dress has been a safe choice and not nearly as lovely as the kimonos Ritsu once donned, so it was nice to know it made an impression. “Is your suit warm enough? It’s a bit chilly out.”

He squeezed her hand. “Oh no, I’m fine. If you get cold, I brought an extra shawl in the car.”

How was it possible, Mitsuru thought as they walked towards familiar faces, that this angel shared DNA with Shigure?

Ayame’s brother, Yuki, looked resplendent in a dark gray suit but, well, the pinched look of stress sort of ruined the ambience.

“Bets on if you think Aya-’nii is going to wear a wedding dress?” another Sohma relative, the one with black and white hair, asked.

“He would look so good in one!” a blond, perky Sohma replied. He paused from digging into a huge plate of desserts. “Do you think they’re wearing matching dresses?”

Yuki looked pained. “Please, don’t even breathe life into those words. My mother is already having an aneurysm at the whole situation.” 

The redheaded one -- Kyou, Mitsuru remembered -- handed Yuki a very full glass of champagne. Yuki took it gratefully and immediately started imbibing. “Kind of serves her right, don’t you think?” Kyou asked with a snort. “She bitched and moaned about him not being married before. Well, wish granted.”

A very pregnant Tohru beamed up at Yuki. Her hand cradled her round belly, a modest gold ring twinkling on her slender finger. “I think it’s wonderful. I can’t wait to see what Ayame-san and Mine-san wear!”

“Are you okay?” Kyou asked her, a protective hand on the small of her back. “Are you tired? Do you want to go sit down?”

Yuki rolled his eyes good naturedly, turning to Mitsuru and Ritsu. At least something was distracting him from his existential dread. “He’s only gotten worse since the pregnancy. I’m surprised this idiot hasn’t implanted a GPS chip into her neck so he can keep track of everything Tohru is doing at all times. It’s borderline obsessive.”

Yuki’s girlfriend - Machi? - gave him an even look. “As if you’re one to talk. Who is the one browsing baby websites at 2am and reading all the reviews to make sure Honda-san only has the safest baby toys?”

“Thank you, Yuki!” Tohru trilled over Kyou’s protests. “You’re so kind.”

Before Yuki could retort, the lights dimmed. A literal orchestra started playing as Mine -- wearing a breathtaking lace and crystal ball gown with a hoop skirt that would put Victorian novels to shame -- slowly walked down the aisle. Mitsuru could hear Ritsu sniffling and she immediately handed him some tissues from her purse.

Before anyone could inquire where Ayame was, the music stopped. The spotlights zoomed in on one of the temporary partitions that separated the food area from the reception area. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Yuki muttered. “‘Niisan kept mentioning a ‘surprise’.”

Hatori, arguably the one sane person at this event, clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Just remember… this will be over soon and we can all go back to ignoring him.”

The partitions slowly opened to reveal Ayame -- not wearing a dress, to his credit, but a white tunic and pants outfit that looked like it belonged to an Arabian king-- in a lavish, horse drawn carriage, baby tucked in one arm, being pulled down the aisle. He waved benevolently to his subjects with his free hand and then blew a kiss to Yuki and then to his future wife.

“Please repress my memories of this night, Hatori,” Yuki said miserably. “It’s the least you can do for making me come.”

“Yuki, your mom fainted,” Hatsuharu said helpfully.

“Holy. Shit,” Kyou said.

Yuki grabbed an entire bottle of champagne from the nearby waiter. “I formally renounce the Sohma name and am now an orphan.”

Ritsu wiped at his eyes, passing a tissue to an emotional Tohru. “What a beautiful wedding. I can’t wait to see what they have planned next!”

“I hate this family,” Yuki said and honestly? 

Mitsuru couldn’t blame him.

---

“Ritsu,” Mitsuru said a few hours later, once they were back in the safe haven of her house, “let’s elope.”

Ritsu dropped all of the plates he was washing with a loud crash, hands pressed to his burning cheeks. His voice went up at least three octaves. “Elope--? As in-- marriage?? Mitsuru-san???”

Elopement would be perfect, she thought happily. 

The further away... the better.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Burned Part 13

Summary:  Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Part 13: Tommy confronts Alfie about the things Louise doesn’t know about. 

           “Fucking all the way out here to give him some bits of paper,” Alfie grumbled under his breath. He’d been complaining about the ‘nerve of Tommy fucking Shelby’ the entire drive to Birmingham.                  

           “I’m sure he has some reason for it.” But Louise wasn��t too sure when they pulled into a mostly abandoned warehouse.

           Tommy stood alone, a sharp look of distrust on his face.

           Louise stepped out with Alfie, trailing behind him. The sound of her heels and Alfie’s cane echoed through the warehouse. It gave her a sinking feeling of dread and uncertainty. She had three pieces of paper tucked away in her coat. She didn’t know what was on them, Alfie had written something out, folded the paper and handed it to her without telling her.

           “I asked you to come alone and unarmed,” Tommy spoke curtly once they stopped in front of him. “You didn’t need to involve her in this.”

           “Well, she’s me secretary, innit she? She keeps the books, Tommy.” Alfie replied casually. “As for the cane, that’s just me sciatica.”

           “He’s unarmed,” Louise confirmed. “I made sure of that.” Indeed she had, tucking her hands into Alfie’s pockets and removing the revolver he had stashed away. He protested but she made him leave it with the driver.

           Tommy dropped the cigarette in his hand, stubbing it out with his expensive shoe. There was once a time when he trusted the woman who had no stake in the game. He’d paid her for protection and he was sure she was grateful. But she had spent too much time with the Jewish gangster. Enough time to lose credibility. “What have you got for me, Alfie?”

           Louise reached into her coat pocket and passed the papers along to Alfie. Tommy spotted the sapphire ring now adorning her left hand. An icy feeling traveled down his spine but he remained quiet.

           “Right, so here are the names of all the men in England whom I would approach, right, if I had a Faberge egg for sale.”

           Louise raised an eyebrow at the name of such an expensive luxury. She could remember her mother talking about the eggs ages ago. Her father playfully remarked that he would indulge her one day with such a gem of a piece. But her mother simply laughed and told him she would much rather a racehorse that would be far less expensive. So he bought her a gorgeous, dapple grey Arabian that very week.

           Now her fiancee was acting like he’d seen one first hand. Knowing Alfie, he probably had.

           “And then,” Alfie continued on, handing Tommy the second paper. “here is all the men on that list, you know, who would buy the egg even if they knew that the item was stolen.”

           Louise closed her eyes for a moment. Things were starting to line up. Alfie had helped Tommy with the Russians’ jewelry but it was far more involved than he had told her. Lying by omission.

           “Here’s a list of the men who would buy a Faberge because of their wives’ obsession.” Alfie finished. “’Bout done here then?” As if to answer his question, Tommy handed him a thick envelope of the promised cash. “Thank you, Mr. Shelby, lovely doing business with you.” He turned to Louise and handed her the money to keep safe. “All set then, love.”

           Louise stared at him, a mixture of disappointment and anger bubbling up to her throat. “You have a lot of explaining to do. I thought-”

           Tommy stopped her from going off. He turned around, pulling out a gun and pointing it at the man. “You left a name off the list, Alfie.”

           “Did I?”

           “I’ve already spoke to my people in the jewelry quarter, experienced dealers.”

           Louise startled and gripped Alfie’s arm. This wasn’t as straightforward of a meeting as she expected.

           “You missed the richest one off the list.” Tommy’s hand was steady.

           Alfie played it cool, as he usually did. But if anyone could tell he was caught in the act, it was his new fiancee. He obviously wasn’t planning for this to happen or he wouldn’t have brought Louise. “Yeah, well, if you knew already how come you dragged me all the fucking way out here, mate?” He protested in a bored voice. He wasn’t afraid for Louise’s safety, Tommy would leave her be. And he was eighty percent sure the Brummie wouldn’t gun him down there. Maybe another time and place, but not there. “Could’ve spared us both the trouble, now couldn’t ya?”

           Tommy’s jaw clenched and his anger was unmistakable. “By withholding a name that you have proven to me that you have done a deal. It was you who told them about the tunnel. You who told them about the fucking deal with the Soviets.”

           Louise’s lips parted. The information just kept building up and she wasn’t sure how she had been so in the dark about it all. “Alfie…” She whispered. “What is he talking about?”

           Alfie was caught between Tommy Shelby and his fiancee. Still, he remained level headed. He could explain everything to Louise when he didn’t have a gun pointed at his face. “Listen, sweetie-”

           No one in the warehouse was in the mood for his typical behavior, least of all Tommy. “You gave information in exchange for a share.”

           “Just leave it, Alfie please.” She whispered and squeezed his arm to try and draw his attention to her. “Tommy, I don’t know what’s going on but whatever it is…”

           He cut her off with a sharp accusation. “You crossed the line, Alfie.”

           “You fucking what?” He spat. He shook Louise’s hand off of him. At that moment he didn’t care what she saw. If she was going to marry him, she was going to marry the man that stood beside her at that moment. There was no picking and choosing.

           “They’re using my boy!” Tommy shouted. Tears formed in his piercing eyes, anger and grief eating him up from the inside out.

           A brief lapse of confusion and concern washed over Alfie’s face. Louise was horrified and couldn’t find the nerve to move. She wasn’t even sure she could talk Tommy down at that point. Charlie was Tommy’s weakness just like she was Alfie’s. She had seen when Sabini threatened her. Alfie had gone ballistic, now Tommy had every right to.

           “Did you fucking know?” Tommy hissed in disbelief.

           “Yeah I knew, you know?” He shrugged and shook his head. “But damned as I am, it made no fucking difference to me, mate!”

           Louise barely had time to move before Tommy wrestled Alfie to the ground. “Tommy, stop!” She cried and looked to the driver who had accompanied him. The Jewish man tried to pull Tommy off when a loud gunshot rang through the warehouse. She screamed and ducked, putting her hands over her head in defense. When the echo died down, she looked up and saw the driver dead on the ground. Her heart leapt to her throat when she saw Michael standing there with a smoking gun in hand.

           Tommy staggered to his feet, blood splattered over his face. He abandoned his gun on the ground and tried to right himself after the scuffle.

           “Oh, for crying out loud!” Alfie barked and stiffly stood up. “What the fuck is going on?”

           Louise was too stunned to even offer to help him up. She slowly lowered and picked up his cane, unsure what else to do.

           But Alfie didn’t seem too bothered by the sudden turn of events. He stormed up to Tommy, getting into his face “What is the matter with you, Tommy, eh? Eh?! You gone fucking angry, ain’t ya?”

           “I got fucking angry!” Tommy wasn’t finished either, it seemed and gladly took on the challenge. In his eyes, the man had sold out his son for a cut of Russian jewels.

           “Alfie, stop.” Louise found her voice again and rushed over to try and pull him away.

           Michael appeared to be on her side as far as trying to break the two angry men apart. “Tommy, I know this bastard deserves it, I fucking know.”

           Tommy didn’t budge, his icy glare driving through Alfie’s skull. His breathing was ragged as he stood his ground. “Michael…”

           Louise did her absolute best to apply her full weight against Alfie, pressing against his chest to drive them apart. But it was no good. When he was angry, he was as strong as a brick wall. So she tried to appeal to Tommy. “Whatever he did, he’ll stop. We can help find Charlie, we can help bring him back to you! I’m sure he didn’t know about Charlie, he never would do that if he knew.” Frantic tears sprung from her eyes. She was undeniably upset at Alfie but the potential of him being killed was too much for her to bear. “You promised you’d offer protection to me, I gave you all I had. You can’t take him away from me.”

           Michael managed to get Tommy a few steps away. “If you kill him now, the truce with the London outfits will be blown to fucking pieces.”

           The Jewish gangster paced a bit, his limp more prominent without his cane and after being tackled. Louise tried to keep between him and the Blinder but his movements were too erratic. He was too deeply immersed to realize the distress he was causing her. “Yeah, well it don’t fucking matter anymore, do it? That truce, it fell apart, yeah? It’s fucking done. You’ve got nothing to worry about when it comes to the old, scary London boys.”

           “Which fucking side are you on, Alfie!?” Michael yelled.

           “I don’t give a fuck right now, kid!” His voice was trembling with rage. “I do not want him to spare me because of some fucking peace pact or money Louise paid! I want him to acknowledge that his anger is un-fucking-justified!”

           “For the love of God, Alfie, please.” She cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

           But he wouldn’t quit and stormed over to invade Tommy’s space again. His face going red with anger. “I want him to acknowledge that he who fights by the sword fucking dies by it, Tommy!” His voice rose louder and louder until the warehouse was teeming with chaos. “You fucking stand there, judging me? Stand there and talk to me about crossing some fucking line? If you pull that trigger, right you pull that trigger for a fucking honorable reason. Like an honorable man, not like some fucking civilian that does not understand the wicked ways of our world, mate.”

           Tommy was silent for a moment, his eyes not moving from Alfie’s face. Finally, he spoke. “Michael, go and call Inspector Moss, tell him its Palmer.”

           Louise breathed out in relief when Tommy stepped away and touched Alfie’s shoulder without malice.

           “Well said, Alfie. Well said.”

           The Jewish gangster furrowed his eyebrows. He opened his mouth to speak but just grumbled incoherently. “I did not know about your boy, though.” His voice softened and he sighed.

           “I know, I saw.” Tommy finally looked at Louise. “Congratulations on the engagement.” He said with no clear enthusiasm or malice. “Brave girl.”

           Louise swallowed and shook her head. “This won’t happen again.” She spoke to the Blinder. Her voice quivered.

           Tommy didn’t remark. He had more important things to do than to inform her that it most definitely would happen again as long as Alfie was still breathing. The gangster was highly skilled at betrayal and indulged in it.

           When he left, Alfie grimaced at his dead driver, bleeding out on the warehouse floor. “Fucking hell.” He grumbled.

           Louise wasn’t sure which emotion was most prevalent in her. She jabbed a finger into his chest, her hazel eyes fiery with betrayal. “You’ve lied to me for the last time.” She spat out and stormed towards the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~

           Alfie was surprised to wake up in an empty bed. He always woke up before Louise did. But things hadn’t been well since the confrontation with Tommy. She didn’t speak to him for the rest of the day or night. She retired to bed early and he came upstairs to find her back turned to him. Now even Cyril was missing.

           He wasn’t sure what to tell her. Yes, he had double-crossed the Peaky Blinders. No, he didn’t think Tommy’s son would be kidnapped. He might’ve thought about the implications but not for very long.

           “Lyn, where did Louise go?” Alfie asked as he walked into the kitchen.

           “She left for the bakery ‘bout an hour ago.” His maid informed him. “Took Cyril with her.”

           “Fan-fucking-tastic.” He knew he was in for it. His punishment was waiting for him at the bakery, now he had to gather what courage he had left and face it. It was much worse than dealing with any of the Shelbys or the Italians.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Alfie begrudgingly walked to the bakery. It was nearly empty because of the early hour. Only a few men loitered around. Ollie was sitting at Louise’s desk. The office door closed. He gave his boss a concerned and sympathetic look.

           “She in there?”

           The young man nodded. “Been in there for an hour.”

           “Right…” Alfie steeled himself and reached for the door handle.

           “She’s got a gun, just…by the way,” Ollie informed him.

           “Mate, that’s the least of my worries. I almost wish she would fucking shoot me instead of what I’m ‘bout to get.” He grumbled and walked into the office.

           Louise sat at his desk. Cyril was comfortably resting in his bed. The bullmastiff’s tail thumped against the floor when he saw Alfie enter but didn’t get up to greet him.

           She was rifling through stacks of paper. Her revolver was resting on the desk, pointing towards the door. Her hazel eyes didn’t look up even when she heard his heavy boots on the floor.

           “Lou.”

           No response.

           “Louise, what are you doing?”

           She slammed a pile of papers down on the desk and finally looked up. “I’m going through your notes to make sure you’re not keeping anything else from me.” She informed him with poison in her voice. “If you’re planning some foolish scheme that could end with you being shot. Or maybe having me kidnapped or killed.”

           Anyone else going through his paperwork would receive a harsh punishment. But Alfie felt like he might owe her some sort of transparency. So he cleared his throat and sat down. “M’not keeping anything else from you.”

           “Oh really?” Louise went back to shuffling through his scrawling handwriting. “What makes you think I’ll believe that?”

           “Lou, you didn’t ask ‘bout it so I-”

           “That’s enough!” She snapped and startled him right out of his early morning stupor. Her eyes burned as she glared at him. “I know you think that the world bows and bends to the will of Alfie Solomons. You think that no matter what you do, it’s justified. You always have an excuse, don’t you? You could talk your way out of hell if the devil gave you the time.” Her jaw tightened and she took a few huffing breaths. Her anger had bubbled and boiled over since the afternoon the day before. Now he was finally pushing her over the edge. “I am not a fool and I will not turn a blind eye to the stupidity you continue to pull.”

           He pinched his eyes closed. “I never thought you were a fool. I didn’t mean…”

           “Don’t you realize that the choices you make have consequences, Alfie?” She demanded. “What if they had killed Charlie? Would you feel good about yourself? Would it be worth it?”

           “Fucking hell, that’s what this is about? You’re worried ‘bout his fucking kid?” He protested. “Love, that kid’s been in danger since the day he was born. I didn’t make Tommy have a fucking kid, Louise.”

           “That’s not the point!” She shouted. “You can continue to put this off on everyone else but at the end of the day, you’re going to have to answer for what you’ve done, Alfie!”

           He was silent. His calloused fingers pressed deep into the bridge of his nose.

           “Look at me.” The volume of her voice lowered but she was still agitated.

           He obliged, to please her if nothing else. “You want transparency? Fine. Good, we’ll be transparent. You want me to tell you how I fucking slaughtered that man who tried raping you? Want to hear what he screamed as I was burning off his fingertips? Want to hear how many men I’ve killed, love, because I’ve fucking lost count by now, haven’t I?”

           Louise bit her tongue but never looked away from his gaze.

           “This ain’t a world full of friendships and sunshine. I take care of my own.” Alfie pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m not ‘bout to pretend I care about the Shelbys. Ain’t my job to make sure they’re all alive at the end of the day. Those fucking gypsies are cursed, that’s not my problem. But Tommy, he’s just like me, right? He’ll do whatever it takes to get to the top. Fucking killed just as many men as I have, love.”

           Louise exhaled slowly through her nose. “Get to the point, Alfie.” She whispered.

           “Me fucking point is I’m only concerned with one thing. Protecting you, yeah? Because you’re the woman I love. Tommy will get his son back. He always wins, don’t he? As for me? I’m gonna protect me own interests.”

           “So you don’t care how I feel about all this?” She replied coldly. “You don’t care how I felt when I heard an innocent child had been taken?”

           He sighed and ran a hand over his face. It was hard putting himself in her shoes sometimes. “I get that, love. I do. But you know that wasn’t my intention.”

           “Intention is irrelevant.” She leaned back in his leather desk chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

           Alfie saw the sapphire still sparkling on her finger. At least she hadn’t chucked it in the Thames that morning. “Lou, you know who I am. You’re smart and you wouldn’t’ve have agreed to marry me if you had any doubts.”

           Her lower lip trembled because she wanted so badly to be angry with him. But he was right. She knew the kind of man he was before they even ended up together. If she were really disturbed by his actions then she would’ve been gone ages ago. “You can’t do this to me again. You can’t keep things from me, especially not if you plan on marrying me.”

           His face softened with relief. “I won’t.” He promised. “I just want you to be happy, love, that’s all.”

           Her brow creased and she kept her arms pressed to her chest. “Alfie, I’m happy with you but things like this…it’s difficult for me. I know you want to keep me out of it but sometimes that just makes things worse. It’ll get out eventually and I’ll hear about it. So maybe it’s best I know upfront so I’m not surprised by something like yesterday.” She was uncertain, at best. But things in her life were often uncertain. What she did know is that she loved Alfie and he loved her back. But he was decisively dedicated to being the gangster London feared.

           “Right, we can work that out.” He agreed and stood up to walk around the desk. “You’ll still marry me, then?”

           Louise looked up at him and sighed heavily. “Tommy was right, I am brave for being engaged to you.”

           “Well…” He grumbled and shrugged.

           She rose from the chair. “No more lies.”

           “No more lies.”

           Alfie was overly relieved when she hugged him. He had planned to get down on his knees to beg for forgiveness. There wasn’t any worry towards striking a balance between her and the firm. His main focus now was marrying her and becoming a more complete man.

           “I love you, Alfie, but you’re a real pain in the arse sometimes.”

           He chuckled. “I’ve been called worse, love.” He pecked her cheek. “Let’s get the day started, eh? You should probably let Ollie know that you’re not planning on fucking shooting me.”

           “You have a meeting in an hour.” She told him and returned her gun to its holster before walking out of the office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent Tag: @sansajonsastark​ @giftofdreams​

Tag list: @vehement-care​ @kimmietea​ @eleventhdoctorsangel​ @fire-treasure-iii​

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[apurehetalian]

I wanted to write something for Valentines Day and this is what I came up with. I hope you like it and happy Valentines Day!

Pairing: Bulgaria x Romania (Robul)

Warning: Fluffy and some quotes used from the Princess Bride movie/book.

Past Convo and Quotes are in italics.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Bulgaria was feeling quite nervous. He never did anything like this before, but he wanted to do something special this year for Romania on Valentines Day.

His boyfriend always seemed to out do himself on Valentines Day and it actually made the Bulgarian feel like he wasn't doing enough. But this year he had a plan, but he just hoped that Romania liked it.

They both had finished dinner and Romania had gotten up to do the dishes while Bulgaria went to sneak out to his care to retrieve two out of the three gifts for his boyfriend from his car.

The two gifts were something he got Romania every year. Roses that were grown from his garden and homemade chocolates that he added some alcohol to, however, he hoped by spiking it up this year by quoting Romania’s favorite romantic movie and book. Though figuring out what his favorite movie and book was a challenge in itself.

When he watched movies with Romania, it was always something horror, supernatural, and dark fantasy or fantasy. There were some romantic moments in some of the movies they watched together, but nothing really stuck out to him. So he went to England and Norway for help, since they were close to Romania as well.

They at first suggested Ileana Cosânzeana that is Romania’s favorite fairytale, but the Bulgarian had to explain to them that he already did something with Ileana Cosânzeana. He was looking for a book or movie that was something that he didn't know Romania loved and was romantic at the same time.

"What you are looking for is the Princess Bride." Norway said.

"The Princess Bride?" Bulgaria asked.

"Yes, it is one of Romania's secert pleasures." England said. "If he isn't watching the movie, he is always reading the book."

"Whenever he gets a craving for it, he comes to my house to watch the movie or to read the book." England said. "He didn't want Hungary or America to find out for he was afraid they would tease him about his weird obsession with it."

"Do you mind if I borrow the book and movie?" Bulgaria asked.

"No, go right ahead." England said. "Just give it back when you are finished."

Bulgaria owed Norway and England for helping him out. Maybe he could have Romania help him pick out a gift for those two.

He brought himself out of his thoughts and went back inside as he hid the roses and chocolates behind his back. He could already feel his nerves getting to him, but he did his best to pushed it to the side.

He stopped at the entrance of the kitchen as he stood there and watched Romania as he was drying and putting away dishes with his back towards him. His boyfriend was humming a tune he didn't quiet reconize. He listened to him for a minute as he finally gathered his courage and begin to speak.

"Do I love you?" Bulgaria said. "My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches."

He watched as Romania stopped drying a plastic cup with the towel he was using before Bulgaria continued.

"I love you," Bulgaria said. "I know this must come as something of a surprise to you, since all I've ever done is scorn you and degrade you and taunt you, but I have loved you for several hours now, and every second, more. I thought an hour ago that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt then."

Romania let out a loud gasp and dropped the cup and towel on the ground. He had turned to look at him with wide eyes, but Bulgaria just smiled at him and continued on.

"But ten minutes after that, I understood that my previous love was a puddle compared to the high seas before a storm. Your eyes are like that, did you know? Well they are." Bulgaria said. "How many minutes ago was I? Twenty? Had I brought my feelings up to then? It doesn't matter."

Bulgaria finally moved towards Romania from the place he stood as he kept the flowers and chocolates still hidden behind his back.

"I love you so much more now than twenty minutes ago that there cannot be comparison. I love you so much more now then when you opened your hovel door, there cannot be comparison." Bulgaria said. "There is no room in my body for anything but you. My arms love you, my ears adore you, my knees shake with blind affection."

When Bulgaria reached Romania, he gently tucked a stand of his hair behind his ear with his free hand. He begin to notice that his boyfriend’s eyes were starting to tear up.

"My mind begs you to ask it something so it can obey." Bulgaria said. "Do you want me to follow you for the rest of your days? I will do that. Do you want me to crawl? I will crawl."

Bulgaria finally pulled the roses and chocolates to him. He watched as Romania took them with shaking hands and held them tightly into his chest. Romania wasn't looking at him anymore and it looked like his entire body was shaking.

He reached up and cupped his lover's cheek gently as he tilted his head up. He realized that Romania was fully crying now. He didn't plan on making him cry. He just hoped that this was a happy cry or otherwise he will feel guilty afterwards.

"I will be quiet for you or sing for you, or if you are hungry, let me bring you food, or if you have thirst and nothing will quench it but Arabian wine, I will go to Araby, even though it is across the world, and bring a bottle back for your lunch." Bulgaria said. "Anything there is that I can do for you, I will do for you; anything there is that I cannot do, I will learn to do."

Bulgaria leaned down and started to kiss his tears away gently. He wrapped his arms around him and brought him close to him. He dtared into his eyes lovingly before he leaned down and whispered into his ear.

"Because Romania there isn't anything I am not willing to do for you...even if it means that I have to be super cheesy and quote something you love to you." He whispered as he felt Romania lean his head against his chest and burried his face against his shirt. "Because I love you that much."

He ran his fingers through Romania’s hair gently as he let his boyfriend cry. They stood there holding each other what seemed like hours until Romania pulled away and looked into Bulgaria's eyes.

"How did you know that I loved the Princess Bride?" He asked.

Bulgaria felt his face heating up and looked off to the side. "Well...I kind of wanted to do something extra special for you on Valentines Day since you seem to always out do me. I was trying to figure out which romantic movie or book that you like was..." He said as he scratched the back of his head. "...so I went to asked England and Norway. Norway told me that you liked the Princess Bride and England let me borrow the book and movie..."

"Wait, are you saying you that you watched and read the Princess Bride for me?" Romania asked. "And then you learned those lines..."

"Yes, I did it for you, but I only picked those lines out because they stuck out to me the most and..." Bulgaria didn't even get to finish that sentence because Romania reached behind his head, tangled his fingers into his hair and pulled him down for a kiss. His eyes widen for a moment before he closed his eyes and kissed him back gently.

Bulgaria pulled away as he smiled down at his boyfriend. "So I take it that I did good this year?" He teased.

"Just shut up and kiss me again, you damn lovable dork."

"As you wish."

[damn-daemon]

For Ruth and Thomas : I keep seeing you and don't touch me

So, I made an 1100 word prompt. Um...oops.

Ruth Coleman looked strange standing in the middle of the betting shop, a prize Arabian forced to stable with plow horses. But she didn’t shy away from the trappings and curiosities. Her gloves were tucked away in her purse, hands free to roam the shelves without thought of dust or dirt. She didn’t bother picking up her dress, letting the ends drag along the worn floorboards; she’d even taken off her hat and placed it on one of the tables.

The war might have ended, but society had yet to force itself back upon her. She wasn’t one of them anymore.

But she wasn’t one of his lot either.

“Why are you here?” Tommy asked, placing his hands in his pockets. “A woman like you shouldn’t be wandering ‘round Small Heath by herself.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Ruth replied, pausing to read the chalkboard. “Wherever I go, there’s a proverbial parting of the Red Sea. It’s seems you’re with me no matter what I do.”

Her voice lilted more than it used to, a proper and pleasant pitch for a proper and pleasant member of society.

She turned back to him, crossing the room slowly until she stood just before him. 

“What did you tell them, hm? Don’t touch Miss Coleman under pain of death, by order of the Peaky Blinders?” she asked, eyes never leaving his. There weren’t many who could hold his gaze anymore. “Or was it more nuanced? Perhaps you just pointed a gun at everyone.”

The silence dragged. He sensed a challenge in her tone, defiance in her eyes. Seemed Ruth enjoyed her ability to talk back to the king.

“You never answered my question,” he said, turning to his office. “Why are you here, Ruth?”

Tommy stepped inside the small room, grabbing a cigarette from the pack in his jacket pocket. But he didn’t light the thing, just let it hang from his lips, an excuse to do something with his hands.

Ruth lingered outside the door, eyes slowly taking in the space, making it feel much larger than it was. She was good at appearing interested in things that shouldn’t concern her.

“My husband was in a rage earlier. Said you came to see him, offering a business proposal. He accused me of sleeping with you,” she admitted, looking him in the eye. “By the time he was finished, I was nearly convinced that I had.”

“You don’t sound very upset about it.”

“Trust me, I’m furious, but I’ve been told yelling at a gypsy only adds fuel to the flames.”

He almost smiled at that. Seemed she remembered quite a bit from their talks.

“Are you going to tell me off then?”

“No. I just want to know why.”

Tommy sighed, leaning against his desk. He took the cigarette from his mouth and crossed his arms, measuring. Ruth simply watched him, still as stone, unmovable. No wonder Polly didn’t like her. Never was a fan of a woman who could stand toe to toe with her.

“I have a deal with a Chief Inspector, whom I believe you’ve met. Your husband’s interference complicates matters, so I attempted to make a deal to keep the peace,” Tommy said, eyes locked onto hers. “I brought your name up in an attempt to even the playing field. That is all.”

Ruth didn’t speak for a while, but he noticed the way her hands tightened around the handles of her purse. She was holding back.

“You’re an eloquent liar, Tommy,” she said eventually, her voice quiet. “But that doesn’t make you a good one.”

She turned away then, heels echoing across the vacant space. Tommy watched the now empty doorway, feeling a small sensation bursting in his chest. Regret maybe. He wasn’t very familiar with the sensation anymore.

“I keep seeing you.”

Silence. She’d stopped moving.

“Used to just be in the trenches,” he said slowly, tossing his unused cigarette away. “With every shell that flew over my head, every tunnel I had to dig, every German I killed with my shovel, my mind would go back to that day on the field when I saw you smile. Guess I thought if I could just hold on to that, I might just have a chance.”

He listened to her slowly return, the click of her heels interrupting every sentence, until she finally stood in that same spot.

“Then it turns out, you followed me home. Sometimes I dream of the shovels, sometimes I dream of you. Those are the better nights.

“And then, you turned up here, and I saw your husband and thought ‘now, there’s a man who has never made you smile the way I did.’ It’s a funny thing, that.”

He was staring at her, but he couldn’t see her. His gaze fell somewhere else, on a far off field on a clear and sunny day.

“So you decided to make him angry?”

“So I decided to make him angry.”

Ruth watched him for a while, quiet, stunned perhaps. There was a strange look in her eyes, as if the next noise she heard would send her running, a frightened creature in over her head. Tommy kept looking at her, at that field that always lingered in the back of his mind, his hands clenching the corners of his desk tightly. He could feel the grain of the wood rubbing against his palms.

Then she took a step, and another, and her hand reached out. It was shaking.

And then it wasn’t.

Her touch was as gentle as he remembered from those fleeting moments in the war, gentle but sure in its path. Her fingers moved slowly across his face, her thumb caressed his cheekbone, and for once, Tommy felt he could not hold on to her gaze. He closed his eyes, and even sighed; he felt weak, blissfully weak.

“It’s true, my husband is a terrible man,” Ruth admitted, her voice in a distant place. “But so are you, Tommy.”

“Yes, I am.”

He stood then, looking down at her, closer than he’d been in years.

She was trembling again.

Tommy lifted his hand, running it up the side of her arm, hovering. He just missed catching one of her brown curls around his finger, bringing his hand to a halt just short of her face. He could feel the heat from her skin.

He waited.

He moved closer and barely grazed her skin.

“Don’t,” Ruth blurted, ducking her head quickly. She wiped a tear from her face. “Don’t touch me.”

And then she was gone.

Thomas Shelby could get anything he wanted, and then Ruth Coleman walked through his door.

[bxcketbarnes]

Undercover

Pairing: Mitch Rapp x Reader

Author: @ninja-stiles

Words: 5363

Author’s Note: So, this was supposed to be done a long time ago, but I couldn’t like, I didn’t feel like writing smut cause it always discourages me, but I finally finished it! Mitch was the result of the survey and someone had provided this idea, although it’s slightly different, so thank you! I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you to my lovely best friend @mf-despair-queen for proofreading this for me!

I’ve been working under Stan for a couple years now, even before he brought in new recruits. I’m the only women that he had taken under his wing and I couldn’t be anymore grateful. He took me away from my fucked up home life and made me feel loved again. I saw Stan as a father figure now since my actual father died in combat and my step father is a fucking piece of shit who beats his wife and daughter. While he was training the new recruits, he sent me out on many missions, not wanting me to meet them yet since he didn’t know how they’d feel about a women being in this profession.

I laid on my bed staring at the ceiling as I stroked the top of my unloaded gun, thinking about how my mom’s doing or if she’s even alive. I sighed, sitting up, grabbing the cleaning supplies, trying to keep my mind off of everything. I take apart my pistol, cleaning every piece of it when there's a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I muttered, glancing towards the door as Stan walks in, closing it behind him as I begin putting the pieces back together. I place the now put together gun on my nightstand, giving him my full attention.

“Keeping your mind off things?” He asked and I raised my eyebrows, shocked that he knew what I was doing. “I used to do the same thing,” Stan mentioned, answering my mental question as he picked up my gun. “Whenever my mind needed a break, I'd always clean my gun,” He chuckled, placing it back on the stand, sitting down on the bed next to me.

“Yeah. Well, my mind wouldn't shut the fuck up,” I muttered, playing with the ends of my shirt, glancing up towards him. “Did you need something, sir?” I asked.

“Yeah. You're going to be going undercover to this grand ball event. The target you’re after is going to be there tomorrow night and I need you to take him out. You’re one of my best recruits here. You think you can do it?” Stan asked and I nodded my head, getting off my bed, grabbing the suitcase that’s under my bed and beginning to pack. Stan placed a file on my bed, telling me to study up before taking off tomorrow morning. After I had packed a few clothes, I sat down on the bed, picking up the file.

“Geoffroy Silvestre, huh?” I mumbled, opening it, reading everything on this man, assuming I’ll have to interact with him at some point during the ball. Two kids, an ex-wife. So, if I have to make a move on him to get him alone, so be it. I glanced through the papers, seeing some surveillance photos of the man meeting with an Arabian man, men in the background carrying crates, presuming to be weaponry. I looked through a few more of them when a familiar guy in one of the picture’s catches my attention, sitting up straight. No way… I looked a bit closer, seeing my step father standing in the background with a guy, testing out a gun and my blood boiled. How could he put my mother in danger like that? Did Stan know about this?

I set the file in my suitcase, sneaking out of my room, heading towards Stan’s office. I opened the door, barging in without knocking. Luckily, no one was in his office. I slammed the door behind me, standing in front of his desk, arms crossed, glaring at him as he closed his laptop, giving me his full attention.

“Something wrong, Y/N?” Stan asked, leaning back in his chair and I scoffed, pacing from side to side.

“Is something wrong? Of course there’s something wrong, Stan,” I glared, placing my hands on my hips. “How come you didn’t fucking tell me that my step father was involved with the target?” I asked him, leaning my hands on his desk. His face stayed blank, always able to hide his emotions well.

“This is the reason why. Your reaction. Plus, I thought you hated him?” Stan asked and I let out a breath, sitting in the chair.

“Of course I fucking hate him. He’d beat me and my mother, but I’m just worried for her safety. If he pissed someone off, they’ll find him and she’ll be in the crossfire. I can’t lose my mother,” I sighed, tears pooling in my eyes. Stan got out of his chair, crouching down in front of me, grabbing my hands.

“It’s alright. She’s safe, okay? I have people out there who keep an eye on her since you can’t,” He told me and I smiled softly, wrapping my arms around his neck, giving him a hug.

“Thanks Stan. Sorry I got all pissy at you,” I mumbled and he chuckled, ruffling my hair and I hit his hand, playfully glaring at him.

“It’s okay. Now, get to bed. You have a plane to catch in the morning.”

 I stepped out of the cab in Paris, staring up at the beautiful hotel in front of me while smiling slightly, not believing that I’m actually here. I’ve wanted to come here since I was a kid, hoping to kiss someone I loved at the top of the Eiffel Tower. I sighed, remembering that I’m here on business and walk into the hotel, checking in before heading up to my room on the 63rd floor. Once inside the room, I see a beautiful blue dress on my bed and I smiled, placing my suitcase on the space next to it, picking the dress up and holding it to my body in front of the mirror.

“This is absolutely gorgeous,” I muttered to myself, glancing towards the clock, seeing it was almost five p.m. “I should probably start getting ready., I mumbled, placing the dress back on the bed, heading into the ensuite, taking a quick shower. After I finished washing the essentials, I walked back into the bedroom, white towel wrapped around my body while another towel held my hair up. I open my suitcase, pulling out a blue lace bra and matching panty, sliding them on before placing a robe over my body. I blow dryed my hair, curling it in some loose curls afterwards, applying some light, natural makeup to my face. When I walked back out into the bedroom again, I noticed the clock telling me it was almost seven o’clock.

“Damn it. I’m going to be a bit late,” I sighed, slipping the robe off, sliding the dress up my body, adjusting my breasts, making sure they’re shown off in the best way possible. I slipped on my shoes quickly, my phone going off and I glance at it, seeing a text letting me know that my driver was here. I replied that I’d be down in a minute, grabbing my gun holster, attaching it to my left thigh before heading out.

 The driver pulled up to the big building where the event was held, a guy opening the door for me and I quietly thank him before waltzing inside, showing security my invitation. I glance around for exits inside just in case something goes wrong while also trying to find my target, making my way over to the open bar. I smiled at the bar tender, ordering a sex on the beach. As I waited for my drink, a handsome man that seemed to be around my age stood next to me, ordering a rum and coke. He glanced over at me, giving me a grin and I melted a bit. Holy shit. This guy is gorgeous. Introduce yourself, idiot.

“Evie,” I smiled, holding my hand out to him and he took it, smiling softly at me before bringing his lips to the back of it, blushing slightly at his actions.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful lady. The name’s Jacob,” He smiled and I grinned, the bartender handing both of us our drinks. I go to pay when Jacob stops me. “This is on me,” Jacob smiled, handing the guy a twenty before walking off with me.

“Oh, Jacob. You didn’t have to do that. I could’ve paid for my own drink,” I blushed, getting a little distracted from the mission. I glanced around the room as I took a sip of my drink, loving the taste, finding the target in the corner of the room, flirting with some broad. “Jacob, do you mind if I go say hi to someone I know? It’ll take a minute unless you don’t want me to come back,” I asked, cursing myself for getting involved with this cute chestnut-haired man who has this stubble on his face and gorgeous whiskey colored orbs that I could get lost in.

“Of course I’d want you to come back. I would like to get to know the woman that took my breath away,” Jacob mumbled and my cheeks flushed, pressing my lips together.

“A-Alright, I’ll be right back,” I muttered, taking a gulp of my drink after I turned my back to him, feeling his eyes burn a hole into my back. I let out a sigh, my heartbeat pounding against my ribcage as I strolled closer towards Geoffroy. By the time I got over to him, I finished my drink, placing my glass on one of the servant's trays when they had walked by. I stood near him, listening to his conversation with a man, the woman he was with disappeared from his side.

“Sir, do you think discussing the weapon dealing at such a high security ball is wise?” The man asked and Geoffroy scoffed, rolling his eyes at the naive man.

“Please. I own half the security in this place. It’s fine,” He muttered, glancing over at me and I gave him a small charming smile, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “Excuse me, Dan,” He mentioned before walking over towards me. “Hello, beautiful. Need a drink?” Geoffroy asked and I nodded my head and he stopped a servant, ordering a scotch on the rocks, before looking over at me.

“Sex on the beach, please,” I smiled and the servant nodded, heading towards the bar. “What’s a dashing man like yourself doing at a ball without a lady on your arm?” I asked him, grinning and he gave me a seductive smile.

“Well, I’m supposed to be here for work, not pleasure. But, why not have both?” I fake giggled at the man, placing a hand on his arm as his wrapped around my waist, squeezing my ass lightly and it took all my might not to sucker punch him. I looked out of the corner of my eye, seeing Jacob glaring at us and I bit my lip, wondering if he’s jealous. God, I bet he’s an animal in the sheets when jealous.

“Work? What do you do?” I asked, grabbing my drink from the servant when he came back, taking a sip from it.

“I’m an arms dealer. Does that turn you on? A big muscular man like myself dealing with all different types of guns?” He smirked and I almost threw up in my mouth, giving him a fake grin.

“Oh definitely. Pardon me for a moment? I have to use the ladies room.” I dragged my hand down his chest as he let me go, making my way back towards Jacob, hoping he’s out of sight from Geoffroy. Jacob grabbed my wrist, pulling me to a secluded area and I gasped as he pushed me against the wall.

“Flirting with other men, huh?” His deep, coarse voice whispered into my ear, making me shiver slightly, gulping.

“I-I…” I started, getting cut off by him pressing his lips to the edge of my ear, dragging it down towards my earlobe, nibbling on it slightly.

“Don’t even try to lie to me. I saw you. Was this your plan? Make me jealous? Hm?” He asked, trailing his lips towards my neck, placing wet kisses against my flushed skin, my heart jumping, arousal pooling in my panties. Christ almighty.

“Y-Yes… was it working?” I asked, suppressing a moan from escaping my lips. His hand gripped my waist, pressing his body against mine, moving his lips down towards my exposed collar bone.

“Absolutely it was. You’re lucky I’m not going to take you right here, right now,” Jacob growled, biting my skin as a gasp left my parted lips.

“As much as I’d love you to have your way with me here, I have a hotel room not far from here,” I muttered, taking my lip between my bottom teeth as he brought his head back up, looking down at me with lust circling in his orbs. He brought his hand up towards my face, rubbing my cheek with the pad of his thumb, feeling the calloused skin against my soft skin before he leaned down, connecting our lips. My fingers ran through his hair, tugging on the ends of it slightly as I moved my lips against his. Jacob’s arm wrapped around my waist, holding me close to him as his tongue poked out, licking my bottom lip, asking for entrance. I parted my lips, granting him entrance as our tongues danced together, Jacob trying to fight for dominance which I’m all for him having. He pulled away from me, resting his forehead against mine, rubbing circles on my hips.

“We should take this back to your hotel room…” Jacob whispered, glancing into my eyes as I nodded my head, swallowing thickly, running my hands against his broad chest. He intertwined our fingers together, leading me out of the building and into a taxi, giving the driver the address to my hotel. Jacob leaned his head into my neck, nipping at the skin as my hand gripped his wrist, holding in the moan until we’re alone. I leaned my head back, lips parted as I felt him suck on my skin, surely leaving a dark purplish mark on my neck. My hands rested on his cheeks, moving his head up towards mine, looking into his eyes for a few seconds before pushing our lips together. One of Jacob’s hands trailed down my side, staying on my hip as his lips moved against mine, dragging his lips up, pulling away slightly, feeling his minty breath hit my face.

“Your lips are so addicting.” I whispered, eyes closed as I heard him chuckle lightly. I opened my eyes, glancing up at him as his hand moved a curl out of my face, smiling softly. He was about to say something when the driver cleared his throat, both of us pulling away from each other, cheeks flushed as Jacob payed our driver. We get out of the cab and I intertwine our fingers, leading him into the building, quickly getting into the empty elevator, pressing the 63.

“Well, this will be a long wait,” He muttered, eyebrows raised. I giggled, leaning on my tippy toes, still feeling short while wearing six inch heels, kissing down his jawline towards the nape of his neck, looking for his sweet spot. His hands made their way back to my waist, his lips grazing the side of my head as I placed wet kisses to his neck, biting the skin softly, small moans leaving his lips.

Jacob’s finger lifted my chin up, placing his lips back on mine for the third time tonight and my heart fluttered a bit, never having a guy so soft with me before, especially with my past. I pulled away from him resting my head on his chest as I let out a small breath, trying to get the bad memories out of my head.

“You okay?” He asked me and I nodded my head slightly, my eyes closed as I softly rubbed his chest.

“S-Sorry. I-I just, um, bad memories,” I muttered, running my hands through my hair, pressing my lips together lightly. He smiled down at me, rubbing his large hand on my arm, placing a chaste kiss to my lips.

“I can help you forget those bad memories, if you allow me to?” He asked and I nodded my head, feeling a little desperate.

“Please…” I breathed out, the ding of the elevator going off, signaling us that we finally got to our floor. I take his hand again, walking towards my hotel room, opening the door. Once both of us are inside, Jacob pushes me up against the back of the door, lifting me up by my thighs after he pushed my dress up, roughly moving my lips against mine. I let out a little moan, one of his hands pushing down one of the straps of my dress, exposing the blue lace bra I’m currently wearing.

“Fuck. Lace and my favorite color,” He groaned, placing some kisses on the top of my breast, carrying me towards the bedroom, throwing me onto the bed. Jacob moved my robe and suitcase off the bed before crawling on top of me, his hand trailing up my thigh, landing on my gun holster. My breath hitched, digging my nails into his bicep as his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, leaning up, taking the gun out of the holster. “Why do you have a gun?” He asked me and I leaned on my hands, lips moving like a fish out of water, trying to find a unsuspicious answer.

“U-Uh, I-I carry it… for protection,” I muttered, looking up at him and he didn’t seem convinced. “I-I wasn’t going to shoot you if that makes you feel better.” I bit my lip as he put it down on the nightstand, standing up, pacing slightly.

“Are you here for a reason?” He asked me and I gulped, shaking my head. “You just lied to me.” Jacob growled, narrowing his eyes at me.

“No! I didn’t, I swear! A friend of mine gave me the invitation because she couldn’t make it and since I live in America, I had to fly here. She knew that I always wanted to come to Paris, so she thought this would be the perfect opportunity to go out and find someone that I could fulfill my dream with,” I semi-lied, sitting on the edge of the bed, Jacob now standing two feet in front of me.

“What’s your dream?” He asked and I blushed, letting out a small sigh, not really wanting to reveal the dream I’ve had since I was a teenager.

“I-I’ve always wanted to kiss someone I truly loved on top of the Eiffel Tower. Childish, I know.” I frowned, looking down at the floor, thinking that he’s going to want to leave now.

“That’s not childish at all. I’m assuming you’re the hopeless romantic type. It’s cute,” He smiled, crouching down in between my legs, grabbing onto my hands, rubbing the back of them with his thumb slowly. I was about to tell him something when my phone rang, pulling the device out of my bra, seeing a text message from Stan.

 “Y/N, have you gathered the information on the target? Haven’t heard from you in quite a while…”

 “I thought you said your name was Evie,” Jacob muttered and my body stiffened, holding the phone close to my chest. When I didn’t say anything, not making eye contact with him, he let out a sigh. “So you were lying. Why’s Stan Hurley messaging you, huh?” He asked and I furrowed my eyebrows together in confusion, knowing that I don’t have his last name written on my phone.

“How do you know that’s his last name?” I asked him and his eyes widened, standing up, moving towards the dresser that’s in the room.

“Because, it says so on your phone,” He lied and I stood up, heading towards my nightstand where my gun is.

“It doesn’t actually. It just says Stan. For all you know, he could be my father or something,” I muttered, bitterly and my hand reached for the gun. By the time I pointed my gun at him, he had one pointing at me as well.

“Who are you?” He asked and I laughed bitterly, tilting my head to the side.

“I could ask you the same thing. Here’s what we can do. We can be civil and truthful and no one has to get hurt. Just answer me this. Are you working for the good guys or the bad guys?” I asked.

“Alright, I can do that. I work for the good guys. Specifically, I work under Stan Hurley,” He muttered and I lowered my gun, letting out a sigh of relief, placing it back on the table. “Now, what’s your real name?” He asked me and I glanced towards him.

“Y/N. What’s yours?” I responded, asking him the same question and he put on the safety on the pistol, placing it on the dresser, walking towards me.

“Mitch, Mitch Rapp,” He answered lowly, turning me on slightly with his deep voice, his eyes glancing down at my exposed breasts. “We were after the same target, but luckily you got something out of him. I seemed to got distracted somehow,” Mitch muttered, his arm sliding around my waist, pulling me close to him as his fingers played with the zipper of the dress.

“Oh yeah? A lady get your attention?” I whispered, our faces inches from each other as he nodded his head.

“Most definitely. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and there was no way that I was leaving without getting a little closer to her.” Mitch bit his lip, brushing his lips against mine, nibbling on my bottom lip slightly. My breath hitched in my throat, gripping his biceps as he began to unzip my dress, making the blue fabric fall to my ankles, exposing my body to him. I stepped out of the dress, moving Mitch towards the bed as he sat down on it, looking up at me.

“Well, I was a bit distracted as well. You see, there was this guy there and he looked so incredibly good,” I whispered, straddling his hips, resting my hands on his shoulders. “I’m not usually the type of girl to go home with a guy I just met, but I totally wanted to go home with him.” I bit my lip, pushing his shoulders down, his back hitting the soft mattress below us.

“Shut up,” Mitch muttered lowly, pulling me down by the back of my head, pressing his lips to mine, shutting me up. I moaned into the kiss, my hands on his chest as I gyrated my hips on his a bit. He groaned, thrusting his hips up a bit, feeling his semi-hard on against my ass. Mitch’s hands trailed down my sides and onto my ass cheeks, squeezing them lightly before he smacks one of his hands against the panty-covered skin. I let out a gasp in our heated kiss, my fingers gripping his hair as I brushed our lips together.

“O-Oh, god.” I moaned, my forehead pressed against his as he smirks.

“Do you like that, baby? Huh? Do you like when I smack that fine ass of yours?” He asked me, his hand smacking my ass cheek once more before he moves my panties to the side, pressing his fingers against my wet folds.

“Y-Yes,” I muttered, bucking my hips against his fingers, needing more from him.

“Yes what?” Mitch growled and I whined as his fingers left my skin. His fingers running through my hair, tugging on it lightly, my head tilted back.

“Yes, sir,” I moaned, his lips pressed against my neck, sucking on it lightly. One of his arms wrapped around my waist, standing up as he kept his hold on me, laying me on my back. Mitch crawled on top of me, ripping my bra off, gasping as the cute fabric was ripped into a few pieces. I was about to yell at him when he pressed his lips against mine for a few seconds.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” He muttered, trailing his lips down my chest, wrapping them around my hardened nipple. My hands reached above my head, gripping onto the sheets as he bit my nub before moving his attention to the other nipple.

“Fuck, Mitch. S-Sir, please,” I begged, my eyes fluttering shut as his lips left my nub, moving down my stomach towards my core. His hands gripped my panties, pulling them down my legs, throwing it to the floor before spreading my legs open, kissing up my legs. I leaned on my elbows, looking down at him as his head was placed in between my thighs, licking up my slit. A  loud moan left my lips, arching my back as his tongue came into contact with my clit. I glanced down again, seeing his eyes on me as I writhed underneath him, his tongue delving through my folds, lapping at my juices. “Jesus Christ,” I muttered, feeling my lower stomach clench as Mitch slipped a few fingers into my entrance, pumping them slowly.

Mitch removed his tongue from my clit, leaning up towards me as his fingers continued pumping into me at a faster pace, small pants leaving my lips. He leaned his forehead against my cheek as I gasped, moaning his name softly as he continued. “You like that baby? You like when I’m touching you like this?” Mitch asked and I nodded my head, one of my hands gripping his bicep.

“God, yes, sir. I need more. Please give me more,” I moaned, looking him in the eyes as he grinned sinisterly. My nails digged into his skin, my legs beginning to shake as the tips of his fingers kept brushing against my sweet spot. I let out a loud gasp, my juices flowing as I came on his long slender fingers, his teeth grazing my earlobe.

I breathed heavily as he slowed his fingers, prolonging my orgasm. Once I came down from my high, I sit up, unbuttoning Mitch’s dress pants as I pull them and his boxers down. His cock slaps against his stomach, my lips parted at how big he is. I kneel next to him, taking his length into my hand as I stroke him slowly, licking my lips a bit. His head hung back, groans leaving his pink lips as I begin to jack him off faster. I dip my head down, licking up the underside of his cock, feeling the veins pulse slightly. My tongue circles around his tip before taking him into my mouth, bobbing my head on him slowly.

“Fuck baby girl,” Mitch moaned, his hand resting on the back of my head, pushing it down lightly. One of my hands rested on his thigh as the other softly massaged his balls, hearing him moan my name. His fingers gripped my hair, moving my head on his length, his tip close to hitting the back of my throat. I groaned on his length as he began to fuck my mouth, hisses leaving his lips as both his hands hold onto my head. I breathed through my nose, taking him deeper into my throat as my nose is pressed against the dark hair. I gag slightly, deepthroating him as his hand slapped against my ass cheek once more. Mitch pulled me off his cock, pressing his lips roughly to mine. “I need to be inside that tight pussy, right now,” He growled lowly and I bit my lip.

He got up off the bed, getting behind me as he pushed my back down, bending me over. My chest was pressed against the mattress, my ass in the air as he rubbed his length against my skin. Mitch stroked his tip in my folds a few times before pressing in slowly, sinking fully into me as I moaned, my walls squeezing his cock. He began thrusting into me, my hands gripping the sheets, lips parted as no sounds came out. Fuck, he’s so big. Mitch’s thrust started to become faster, his hips slamming into my ass, a clapping noise echoing throughout the hotel room along with our heavy breaths and moans.

“Oh fuck, Mitch,” I moaned, leaning my head back as he bent down, pressing his lips to my bare shoulder blade. “God, you feel so good. Don’t stop,” I breathed, moving my ass back against him, his cock reaching new depths.

“Trust me, baby. I’m not going to stop. Not until we both cum,” He groaned, biting my skin as his hand came around from the front, rubbing my clit roughly. I gasped loudly, writhing underneath him as he hit my sweet spot over and over. Mitch brought my hands behind my back, pinning them to the small of my back with his free hand, his thrusts becoming more rough.

I let out a small scream, desperately wanting something to grab onto as his thrusts dug me into the mattress. “I-I’m going to cum, sir,” I moaned, biting the sheets as my eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure surging throughout my body as his hand that was rubbing my clit move to my ass, slapping it.

“You can’t cum ‘til I tell you to,” He growled, slapping my other ass cheek, alternating as I moaned, loving the demanding side of him. “Got it?” Mitch asked and I nodded my head on the mattress, gripping my own hand.

“Y-Yes, sir,” I groaned, my walls clenching on his length, trying really hard not to cum, my stomach churning. Mitch groaned from behind me, his thrusts becoming a little sloppy as he released my hands, both his hands moving to my ass, spreading my cheeks.

“Cum with me, baby,” Mitch moaned, smacking my ass once more, pleasure surging through my body as he hit my sweet spot once more, my walls clenching tight against his cock. My body begins to shake a bit as I began cumming on his length. His hands gripped my skin, slamming into me once more, his cock deep inside me as he released his warm load deep into me. I grip the sheets once more, moaning out as I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling his hand rub my outer thigh.

“Fucking hell,” I panted, Mitch pulling out of me slowly, feeling our juices drip from my pussy onto my leg. I collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily as Mitch laid down next to me. “You are absolutely incredible. Holy shit. I don’t think I’ve ever been fucked that good.” I bit my lip, blushing slightly as he grinned at me.

“Well, I’m glad. Um, I don’t want you to think that this is all I want. I-I actually knew of you before I came here. Stan sent me here to keep an eye on you, just incase something happened. I saw you one night at the Barn and I always wanted to talk to you, but Stan hid you from everyone,” Mitch confessed and I sat up, my eyebrows raised slightly.

“Y-You knew of me?” I asked and he nodded his head, sitting up as well. “Then how come you didn’t bother trying to see me?” Mitch’s lips parted as I asked the question, looking like a fish out of water.

“I don’t really have a good answer for that, but I practically begged to be let on this mission,” He mentioned and my cheeks flushed, honored that someone went through so much trouble to get to me. I smiled, realizing that he actually knew who I was.

“So, you pretended not to know who I was then?” I asked and he nodded his head again, scooting a little bit closer to me.

“Yeah, and now that you’re in my grasp, I want to know more,” Mitch whispered, his lips brushing mine ever so softly and my heart skips a beat. My eyes flutter shut as he pressed his lips to mine, kissing me softer than he was earlier.

“I’d be glad to let you know and have more of me,” I whispered, glancing up at him and he grinned, pulling me back into a kiss.