#whiskey chauffeur

[shadesofmauve]

I started reading a list of stupid-user style euphamisms, but they just made me think of that one coworker who's apparently incapable of starting at step 1 and following through to when the numbers stop. Which is traditionally how one follows numbered instructions.

So I occassionally field calls where the problem turns out to be "User started at step 5" or "user stopped following instructions halfway through for no apparent reason."

Sometimes all your picnic/pebcak/id10t errors are the same person, and you have to wonder wtf they're missing.

(Steps 1 through 4, apparently).

[wolverteen]

motel six

cw age gap, smut (overstimulation, unprotected p in v, riding, rough, drunken sex, creampie). pair old man!logan howlett + younger!reader. sum after meeting logan at a bar, he takes you back to a motel and goes harder than you think you can handle. a/n first post for kinktober.. some other works have been postponed for this month, but expect uploads according to my schedule xx

the smell of whiskey stung you as you entered the bar; varied customers drank for a reason, but you felt empty and just really needed a drink. a relationship with your best friend went sour after you discovered she spoke lowly of you behind your back. she was one of the first people you met since moving into town for college, so you didn't think it was even possible she could do something so.. bitchy.

coming to your senses once getting to the front of the bar, you spotted a man not far on a stool. his brows furrowed in a way that suggested frustration and his glasses, thin readers specifically, told you that that frustration came from concentration. you peered down to his hands and saw a cold, wet beer glass that was near empty. next to it was a finished glass of what you guessed to be whiskey.

with his worn tux shifting as he started to get up, you neared him. "leaving a good drink so early?" he raised a sharp brow and looked back at the cheap beer and short, foggy glass.

his brown eyes fixed back on you, "if you can call it good, yeah." you smirk and huff before ordering.

"just two whiskeys, please," your request catches the older man's ear, causing him to turn back and question it.

"you gonna handle two by yourself?" he presumed you were just now able to drink and taking advantage of your legal id. you took both drinks in your hands and didn't hesitate to start sipping on one. "don't have anyone to enjoy them with.."

the slight movement in your eyes tore his confidence down as he towered over you, but the free drink in your hand called him. he wasn't much of an alcoholic, except when he was. when he sat with you, he learned your name, why you bothered the shitty bar, etc. his job as a chauffeur helped him get by; bachelor and bachelorette parties, mostly. he's seen his fair share of craziness; you were on your third round of drinks when logan slowed down, wanting to savor the conversation and the sight of you.

before you knew it, your shoes felt uncomfortable and kicking them off in his motel room was what you needed. he shuffled off his blazer and watched as you undressed, "this what a couple of drinks does to you, hm?"

you shook your head and backed him into the leather comforter in the corner of the room. he huffed and laid back, watching as you strutted towards him in lacy black underwear, topless and exposed. he'd been in this position before, nobody he cared to know, though. you weren't different in his eyes, but he'd treat you like such for your experience. you'd end up leaving in the morning and forgetting the name you moaned over and over again.

"fuck, logan-" you yelped as he pulled you onto his lap and unbuttoned his shirt. his fingers snaked down to slide your lacy fabric over. you helped the thin clothing off of him and grinded down on his rough jeans, feeling the friction warm your pussy before he could really touch you. he was eager to rid his thick thighs of his { now wet } jeans. the air conditioning hummed and cooled the room as he heated you up; logan's cock throbbed against your clit before he slowly slid into you, not moving until your fit of moans hushed.

his thrusts began easy and when he picked up the pace, it was at your request. you rode him, holding onto his shoulders and raking your fingers slowly up to the bottom tufts of his dark hair. it took all of your energy to bounce on him, the back of your thighs smacking the top of his.

you felt his large hand reach for your lower back and he gently ran it over your ass, smacking in his favor. they made you yelp and flinch up to a position where he felt more of you. "oh, god! right there, fuck-" you cried out and sunk your nails into his skin; no need to apologize for the harsh action after hearing his grunt of pleasure. you felt a wave wash over you as you came around him and slowed until he was finished.

logan's movements quickened, blinding you from the fact that he already came inside you. he lifted you and kept your pussy around his dick as he moved to the near bed and laid you down. he didn't stop; his thrusts seemed now like an unexcused punishment.

"logan, please- i already-" you lips eluded a whine, but your arms still held him close, appreciating temporary scars you gave him. "you're fine, baby, c'mon," he groaned, "ya feel that, hm?"

the mutant grunted into your ear, his dog tags hanging and hitting your lips with each movement. "what? my baby need it rougher?" he teased, snapping his hips up aggressively.

you held his veiny arm and pushed against it, feeling your orgasm near. your stomach grew tight as you clenched around him and logan felt it. he hissed again; his stamina didn't quit, though. the feeling of another orgasm chased through your aching body.

"don't stop, pleaseeee," you dragged your words tiredly and felt yourself leak onto the bed, wet noises filling the motel room and logan's grunting lowering into soft moans as he filled you up. the tip of his nose met yours with a heavy huff.

dt @bulllsseye @earth2lua @ohgodimgoungtodie @khoatic-with-no-energy

[thewriterg]

𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥

pairing(s); tom holland x fem!reader, sub!tom x dom!reader

summary; Tom hadn’t been to a costume party since he was in college but thanks to his brother Harry he’s broken his record but the actor quite say he regret making a deal with the devil —kinktober day; 21—

word count; 1.5k

warning(s); SMUT, spanking, face riding, oral (f receiving), tail job?, edging, kisses, pet names, and language

playlist; glory box by portishead

A/n:—GIFs; @ffckedup & @erensbitch— It’s kink mf tober

“Oh fuck you Harry” Tom muttered watching the banquet come into his view and suddenly his urge to crawl up into a ball and have his driver that was made to sure he entered the establishment by his dear brother of course take him back home while he inched closer to the party it was VIP, invite, and celebs only but the didn’t seem to make the brunette go jump off a cliff any less

If anything it could make the urge stronger

“Is there a problem Mr Holland?” The chauffeur questioned as he opened the brunettes door a little underlying urge to his voice and the actor took the hint stepping out of the black Porsche patting the man on his suit covered shoulder shaking his head with a small smile

“No, thank you” Suddenly not really so for the suit secure on his toned body not expecting the familiar white flashing lights shoved into his face as multiple questions were thrown his way he tight lipped the pap before getting rushed into the building flashing changing colored lights and blaring music taking over his senses and he heard different greetings from all over the place

“Spidey!”

“Oh Tom hi!”

“Is that the real suit man!?”

it was definitely college nostalgia to say the least

He smiled and waved at all of who he could making his way toward the bar a whiskey on the rocks imbedded in his mind greatly he had been mingling for less than twenty minutes and he already wanted to leave the least he could do is indulge in a little drink to treat himself for not already crawling under a rock

“Need a drink?” Tom heard a voice directly by his ear and when he turned to his head to look at the direction of sound just to turn around and find nothing before he reset to his usual position you were in front of him horns coming from your forehead your eyes crimson fangs peaking through as you spoke

“Pretty boy can’t handle loud noises and flashing lights?” You questioned lowly a teasing underlying tone thick on your tongue as you took a glass from the counter setting a cube in the glass and pouring Jack Daniels in the glass passing it to the brunette swiftly

“That’s cute, well aren’t you adorable” He hummed before taking a swallow of the bitter liquid falling into his mouth and down his throat eyebrows furrowing when he looked up from his glass and you weren’t there in front of him like you were

“Willing to make a deal with the devil Tommy?” You hummed in the actors ear making him shiver his mouth agape at the sudden change his eyes darting from behind the counter back towards where you’re standing now his heartbeat staring to beat a bit faster

“I-I um, guess I’ll roll that dice” He whispered before jumping in his seat as something wrapped around his leg before retreating and looked down to see a very realistic looking tail swinging back and forth at his feet before you were walking away a dramatic sway in your hips

“That one’s a looker who’s your designer? Woah where you going darling?” Tom was out of his seat following after you dodging dancing bodies until the music was dying down in his ears the lights no longer flashing in his eyes the actor felt a fog take over him clouding his senses until he was somewhere he completely didn’t recognize

“Gonna ask you one more time, willing to make a deal with the devil” He could see you fully now his head spinning his sense fully clouded of you his pupils dilated and his control felt compelled to you

“Whatever you want.. Miss whatever you want” He uttered dropping to his knees in front of you while your tail swayed against the back of your calves while you circled the brunette your heels clicking against the floor before you took a seat behind him your head tilting at the sight of his toned back

“You’ve done this before?” You interrogate him not moving from your position on the end of the giant bed frame while pressing a heel on the surface of his back pushing him to all fours while he goes down without a protest

“Yes mam” You hummed in response he’s obedient and pure with just with a little dark underlying it was… refreshing to say the least

“Go across the room strip I want everything off and then, crawl back to me” The brunette scurried away and he thanked the years of rushing in and out of the suit all over the world while he heard you heels against the floor the sound imbedded in his mind while crouching back down to his knees slowly returning to the spot he once was this time his carved face looking up into yours with those doe brown eyes filled with just about zero thoughts, jaw sharp enough to cut a sheet of glass, and the slight bump on his nose that would hit the spot

“You’ve ever been punished Tommy?” You whispered and he felt the presence of your tail against him again this time a thousand more times pleasurable causing him to let out an uncontrollable moan slipping from his lips his cheeks heating up tinting a soft pink before he could open his mouth for a response something whipped down on his lower back and the crack of his ass a whimper tangling in the brunettes tongue his curls sticking to his forehead

“I asked you a question” You hissed patience wearing blatantly thin

“Yes miss I have” He winced at the crop coming back down on his ass the sting subtle at first before cracking a burning punch and it continues tears brought to his eyes dripping onto the floor his backside battered and bruised and the actor knew sitting down would be a challenge for the next few days to come

“You think you should apologize for your manners pup?” You come into his view now only in a set of black lace that didn’t cover much he could feel himself salivating in his mouth

“Yes, please let me I’ll make it right I swear- I’ll do anythin-” He quiets at the look of you hand in the air aiding him to stop your presence demanding attention and affection God by the looks of it to Tom you deserve to be prayed to a temple built directly off of your body You slip down the pair of underwear your cunt bared to him while you took striding steps towards his frame and the pale boy took a small second to dart out his tongue to wet his lips before you hovering directly over his face like a dog with a bone

“Look at you finally learning being a real good boy, stay, stay, eat.” You hummed as he dived into your clit at your call his tongue dipping into you fold collecting the build up of arousal and your hand slithers up to his head and into his hair pulling and tugging roughly causing Tom to whine coyly the vibrations shooting up your spleen causing you to close your thighs on his head a borderline pornographic moan spilling from you while your rolled you hips against his face the bump in his nose hitting your clotting causing your hips to stutter

Toms hips suddenly bucked up into nothing a muffled groan that would’ve shook the room otherwise coming from his throat your tail wrapped around his cock stroking him the same pace he was stroking your clit with his tongue and the brunette began to come to the realization that it really wasn’t a prosthetic as he circled your clit flattening his tongue against your bundle of nerves while you hissed in pleasure your knees shaking on either side of his head he takes this time to finally attack your bud like a shark in a pool with a drop of blood and your eyes snap open while you let out a scream your coating rushing down to Tom’s tongue dribbling down his chin while he lapped up all the juices he scientifically could and then some the action riding you through your high almost putting you into overstimulation until you finally lift up your knees a little wobbly and your stance a little more slouched and the look you explain on the man’s face is drunk to say the least

You smirk while he whines your tail coming of his flushed cock his release slipping through his fingers like sand

“Didn’t think it’d be that easy did you?”

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[archangeldyke-all]

Touch starved reader crushing on sev and totally overthinking and overanalyzing everything, trying to be respectful and not make sev uncomfortable - all the while missing the signs that sev likes her back 👉🏻👈🏻and then maybe some soft ending - if you‘r like

oh, so you mean like me? lmaooo

men and minors dni

you've been in love with sevika since the first time you laid eyes on her. you can remember it like it was yesterday, though at this point it's been years.

you'd just been hired at the last drop as a barback, still learning the ropes. you weren't allowed to make drinks, just clean the bar and collect empty glasses for thieram.

but then, you met sevika. sevika who came storming into the bar, a bruise blooming on her cheekbone. sevika who bumped into you as you carried some new bottles behind the bar, who took one look at your uniform and sighed, then demanded, "whiskey. and bring the bottle."

you tried to explain to her that you weren't a bartender, that you couldn't bring her a drink, but you were completly gobsmacked by how fucking hot she was, and she was already walking away to settle down in a booth.

so you brought her whiskey. and the bottle.

she just nodded at you in thanks.

the next time you saw her, about a week later, she caught your eye and burst into laughter. your stomach did a somersault at the sound, at the sight of her sharp canines and the gap in her front teeth.

"why didn't you tell me you aren't a bartender?" she asked, approaching you. you gulped.

"i-- uh. you seemed stressed. and i knew where we keep the whiskey so..." you trail off with a shrug. she just laughs and settles down at the bar, watching you polish glasses.

and since then, you guys have been great friends.

sevika keeps you company on slow nights; and you've kept your habit of pouring her her glasses of whiskey.

she gets upset when thieram tries to serve her now-- insisting that you somehow pour her glass better.

your crush doesn't subside. no matter what you do.

each time you pass sevika a glass over the bar, her fingers brush yours. it's like electricity zapping up your spine, and you snatch your hand away swiftly each time.

when she catches you staring, you turn away quickly, biting your cheek and cursing yourself for being so obvious.

when she's tipsy enough, and stumbling away from the bar, you have to pinch yourself to keep from offering her a shoulder to lean on or a chauffeur home.

she's all you ever think about.

you're pathetic.

one night, sevika's drunk and happy, high off a big win from a round of cards, giggling and watching you work with her chin in her hand. she's so cute. she's got some sauce from the wings she'd been eating on her chin, and without thinking, you lick your thumb and swipe the sauce off.

sevika freezes.

you die on the inside.

"s-sorry." you mumble, before turning on your heel and taking off for the bathroom.

you hide out in the stall for half an hour, trying to get your breathing under control. when you leave, sevika's gone.

a few weeks later, you're sweeping up after closing while sevika's smoking in her stool.

as you finish up, putting the last chair up on the table, sevika rises from her stool, stretching and groaning.

with her hands over her head as she stretches, more and more of her abdomen becomes exposed as her hem rides up. you stumble into a table in your temporary distraction, and she laughs at you.

you sigh in embarassment, looking away and scratching the back of your neck.

"you're cute." she says. you gulp, not looking at her, knowing she's just teasing you.

"sorry." you whisper. she laughs and strides over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

she's so solid and warm, you almost melt in her grip. you haven't been held in... months? maybe even years. a lump forms in your throat, and you carefully look up at sevika.

she's smirking down at you, the same cocky little thing she always wears when she's got a girl in her lap or hanging off her arm. you sigh, and pull away before she can ruffle your hair, blinking back the tears in your eyes, reminding yourself that it's sevika, and you're just... you.

she doesn't want you. not like you want her.

over time, sevika becomes your best friend. there's nobody who knows you better, and you're pretty sure it goes both ways.

sevika's always telling you about her latest sexual conquests, how none of the girls she sees at babette's can ever fully satisfy her. you just laugh and shake your head, your heart breaking a little more each and every time.

she's always sharing her meals with you, insisting you eat, not letting you deny her. it's how she shows she cares, you figure, her thanks for always listening to her rants.

when she's tired from a hard day, she's quiet, just watching you work, a small smile on her face. she's told you before about how she used to work as a barback, way back before she got involved with silco. you figure she's just jealous, reminiscing on when her work was easier, when times were simpler.

tonight, you're feeling fragile.

you've had a horrible day. customers have been assholes, thieram's sick so you've been swamped, and you've been delivering drinks to sevika and some girl from babette's tucked away in a private booth all night.

you're just trying to get through this shift, so you can go home and cry into your pillow until you fall asleep.

the night's nearly over, only a few stragglers hanging around as you begin to close up shop.

and just when you think you'll be able to make it home without any further incident, an empty bottle you're carrying back to the bar hits the corner of a table, and it shatters in your hand, cutting your palm.

a sharp pain shoots up your arm, blood quickly filling your palm as tears fill your eyes.

frustration, anger, and exhaustion take over, and you start to cry as you run to the bar to clean your wound.

sevika's there in seconds.

"are you okay?" she asks, rounding the bar to stand beside you. she only makes you more upset.

"i'm fucking fine." you spit, swiping furiously at your eyes as you run your wound under the faucet. "go back to your girl."

"shit, you're bleedin' real bad. lemme help you." she reaches out to grab your wrist, and the overwhelming comfort of her touch only makes you more upset.

"fuck off, sevika!" you cry, your emotions finally bubbling over. she blinks at you, eyes wide.

"...did i do something to piss you off?" she asks. you just huff and turn away from her.

"i'm just being fucking stupid." you whisper.

"you're not stupid." sevika says, quietly. she touches your shoulder and you flinch away from her. she sighs. "i'm sorry." she says. you look over at her.

"you didn't do anything wrong." you say. she chuckles.

"clearly, i did." she says, gesturing to you. you roll your eyes, too tired to mince words.

"i'm just tired, sev. it's been a hard fuckin' night and now i'm not gonna be able to use this hand for a week, and you--" you cut yourself off. she raises an eyebrow at you and you shake your head. "you were distracted tonight. weren't keeping me company. i just... missed you." you say quietly, pressing gauze to your wound before wrapping it up.

"i don't get you." sevika says, studying your face.

"what do you mean?"

"i dunno. i flirt with you all the time, and you don't do anything about it. every time i touch you, you jump away like i'm gonna hurt you. i get it in my head that you don't like me back, but then i bring another girl to the bar and you act like you're jealous, and you get all snappy with me. what the fuck is that?" she asks.

"what?" you ask, completely floored. "when the fuck do you flirt with me?" you ask. sevika blinks at you.

"are you kidding? all the fucking time!" she says. you blink, and she laughs. "you're kidding, right?" she asks again. "holy shit, you aren't. you're serious. you seriously don't know?" she asks. "i'm-- i'm all over you! all the time!" she exclaims. "i share all my food with you, i'm constantly ogling you, i'm always lookin' for an excuse to touch you-- what the fuck did you think was happening here?" she asks.

"...wha?" you ask.

sevika giggles. "fuck, you're kinda clueless, aren't you?" she asks, reaching forward to swipe up the tears on your cheeks for you. you shiver at her touch, and sevika sighs, dropping her hand back to her side. "see, there you go again." she says, gesturing at you. "all fuckin' jumpy." she says.

you gulp. "i... i don't..." you say. she laughs.

"relax, i'll leave you alone." she says, pulling away. "i can take a hint."

sevika sounds sad. she's never sad.

but right now, she's looking down at her feet with big wet eyes, her shoulders slumped, her lip between her teeth. you take a shaky breath, and reach forward with your un-wounded hand, grabbing her wrist. her eyes snap up to yours.

"it's not a hint." you say. "it's just-- i don't-- you're always talking about your girls! i didn't think you'd be... and it's not-- i don't-- i like it when you touch me. it feels nice... too nice. makes my brain melt, can't think straight... it almost hurts, touchin' you. 'cause you're not mine." you finish weakly with an unsure shrug.

for a second, you and sevika just look at each other. then, someone on the other side of the bar clears their throat. you jump, dropping sevika's wrist and turning to look at the woman across the bar-- the girl sevika'd come in with.

"this is her, huh?" she asks with a smirk. you blink. sevika's shoulders come up to her ears, and she rubs the back of her neck.

"y-yeah." she whispers.

the woman looks you up and down, her smirk growing. "good for you, sev. 'm happy for you y'know." she says. you blink in confusion.

"what--"

"here're those files. i'll get outta your hair, clearly i'm interrupting something." she says with a wink, passing a few files over the bar to sevika, then turning on her heel to walk out of the bar. you blink.

"what--"

"i brought her here to close my tab at babette's." sevika says, avoiding your gaze. "it... was a pretty big tab." she says with a self deprecating laugh, gesturing to the files in her grip.

"wha-- why?" you ask. she shrugs again.

"i... i'm not really satisfied with the services offered at babette's anymore." she says. you blink.

"what're you talkin' about, the girls at babette's are kinky as shit!"

sevika chuckles. "no that's not-- i caught feelings for someone." she says. "'ve had 'em for quite a while, actually." she says, hesitantly reaching forward to grab your healthy hand. "it's not the same fuckin' the girls when i all i can think about is you. 's just a waste of money, really." she says shrugging.

"...you have feelings for me?" you ask. sevika laughs and nods.

"hence the flirting." she says slowly, like you're stupid.

you feel a little stupid.

but mostly... you feel giddy.

"oh." you say. sevika nods.

"yeah." she says awkwardly.

a smile slowly creeps up your lips, and you adjust your hand in sevika's so you can intertwine your fingers. "oh." you whisper again, butterflies fluttering in your stomach, your heart racing, your palm buzzing at sevika's touch. she snorts.

slowly, hesitantly, you step into her space, releasing her hand to wrap your arms around her body. sevika blinks at you, but doesn't stop you, so you just lean forward and rest your head against her chest, hugging her to you.

sevika's heart is beating crazy beneath your ear-- almost as crazy as yours. she takes a deep breath, and then her arms wrap around you, tugging you impossibly tighter against her.

something inside you cracks open, and warmth floods your body, you sigh against sevika, and she sighs against you, nuzzling against your shoulder as she holds you close. you giggle, and she giggles, and soon, you're both laughing hysterically against one another.

when you catch your breath, you pull away just enough to see her face, not releasing your grip around her waist. she smirks down at you.

"hi." she says. you grin.

"i'm in love with you." you say. sevika's teasing smirk melts, her eyes going wide and her mouth forming an 'o'. you giggle.

she shakes her head and gulps, blinking rapidly, before shooting forward to press her lips against yours.

you melt in her hold, knees going wobbily, a sigh escaping your lungs as you kiss sevika back.

she pulls away far too soon, laughing at the pout on your lips.

"i'm in love with you too." she says.

tears well up in your eyes, and your head falls forward to rest on her shoulder.

"shut up." you say shakily. she laughs.

"no fuckin' way." she says. "i've got years of flirting to catch up on-- now that you know i'm flirting." she teases. you giggle against her, and sevika kisses the top of your head.

"fuck." you whisper against her. she laughs again, gently pulling your head away from her chest to admire you, wiping your tears away. "i'm so stupid." you say with a giggle.

"you... you're perfect." she says. "a little airheaded, sure, but so am i." she says shrugging. you raise an eyebrow at her.

"you're the smartest person i know."

"it took me two years to realize i liked you. i couldn't figure out why i wanted to be around you so much. for a while, i thought i wanted to fight you." she says. you burst into laughter.

"oh." you say between giggles. she nods at you with a sweet smile. "we're perfect for each other, both the same amount of oblivious." you say, teasing.

sevika doesn't laugh, though. instead, she just goes quiet, a soft smile on her face.

"we are perfect for each other." she whispers. tears start to well in your eyes again.

"y-yeah. i always thought so too." you admit. sevika grins.

"so... will you be my girlfriend?" she asks. you grin.

"only if you'll be mine." you say. sevika laughs.

"deal." she says.

you swoop forward to seal the promise with a kiss.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess

[rullakebu]

Mobster's temptations (F/M, tickling, fur fetish)

“Okay, she should be here any minute now,” Vince figured.

He stared at the objective briefing on a note in his hand: “Seduce Savarino’s wife and get the data about their operations.”

The Apolloni crime family had always had a rivalry with the opposing Savarino family. The feud went back to the start of the 1900’s when they had left the old country for new opportunities. The founders had initially been close friends but had a falling out due to disagreements in the code of conduct. It eventually led to a shootout and the two families had been at war with each other ever since. Sabotage, scams and espionage were not uncommon occurrences between them.

Vince, a devoted, yet newly appointed, soldier of the Apolloni family, had received a task from his caporegime. The higher ups had received info that Regina Savarino, the wife of the rival mob boss, frequents the club called “Tears of Joy” after sunset every weekend. The rumor around town was that Regina had not been all that faithful to her husband—a dangerous game.

Vince’s first official mission as a soldier was to seduce Regina for the night and gather info about Savarinos’ next business ventures. No one really knew of Vince yet so he was the perfect pick for the task: seducing a lady with deep connections in the mafia. Easy enough, right? That is if the rumors about Regina’s promiscuity held true.

Vince read the description: She was 36 years old, of Italian American descent, 5 feet and 10 inches tall. The data also notified that Regina had an affinity for high fashion, in particular fur clothing. She could be spotted around town wearing the fluffiest, softest and most luxurious fur coats, stoles, hats. The way an influential mob boss’s wife would dress.

“She wouldn’t be hard to miss. This club is full of chumps,” Vince thought to himself, lighting a cigarette.

He was standing by the entrance of a restaurant opposite of the club across the street. Rain had forced him to take shelter under a small canopy on the restaurant’s premises. The light of the club’s sign was reflected off a small puddle in front of the door.

Vince saw a black Mercedes coming from around the corner. It had custom rims and tinted windows. You could not see who was inside as it pulled up to the club. The chauffeur stepped out. Dressed in a black suit he walked to the right side of the vehicle and opened the passenger door. Out stepped a tall, beautiful brown eyed lady with straight shoulder length brown hair. On her she wore a sleek black dress, dark stockings, black heeled boots and a fluffy beige full length golden island fox fur coat.

“Regina, no doubt about it,” Vince mumbled to himself.

She thanked the driver and ventured inside.

“Time to move,” Vince determined.

He quickly smoked his cigarette and threw it on the ground, stepping on it. Vince came out of the shadows into the light of the lamp posts. He reached into his pocket and put his trusty Colt 1911 pistol on safety. Wearing a classy suit, his dark hair slicked back and green eyes squinted he made his way across the street and opened the club door.

Classy piano music became clearer step by step as he ventured further from the door and into the club. He stayed for a moment scanning the club. The venue was relatively empty that night–perfect. Regina wouldn’t be hard to find. Vince glanced at the bar and there she was, the bar light highlighting her luxurious fur coat.

He gulped and walked graciously towards the bar, towards his mission. He stepped to the bar and leaned against it right next to Regina.

“Excuse me, Miss. I don’t believe we’ve met before. May I buy you a drink?” Vince suggested.

“Of course, thank you. A negroni, please,” Regina smiled.

“One negroni and one whiskey, please! I’m Vince, by the way. Vince Medici. Pleasure to meet you,” he grinned.

“Regina Savarino. And likewise,” her slightly deep voice sounding almost like a purr.

Vince’s heart pumped. He had to succeed in seducing her. Otherwise he’d be in big trouble and his future in the mob was at risk. Knowing how important first impressions are, he could not, under any circumstances, fuck this up.

“Regina,” Vince repeated, grinning warmly.

“So, Regina. What do you make of this place? Do you come here often?” Vince attempted to make conversation.

“Yes, I do. I practically live here,” Regina laughed, sipping her negroni.

“That so?” Vince laughed.

He took a look at her hands, adorned by long red nails. She didn’t wear a ring, hah.

“You said your last name is Savarino as in Don Savarino, the mob boss. However I see you’re not wearing a ring. Aren’t you married to him?” Vince asked.

“Well, I am but he’s barely there. And I like to keep my options open to be quite honest with you,” Regina purred, caressing Vince’s arm.

Jackpot.

Vince's grin widened. Things were going smoother than he expected. He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone.

"Smart woman," he murmured, his eyes locking onto hers. "But surely a woman as captivating as you must have suitors lining up at your door."

Regina chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down Vince's spine.

"You could say that," she replied coyly, her gaze holding his with an intensity that made his pulse quicken.

He couldn't afford to lose focus. This was his chance to gain the upper hand, to charm her into revealing valuable information that could give his boss the advantage over her husband's crew.

"Tell me, Regina," Vince whispered, his voice low and husky. "What's a woman like you looking for in a man?"

Regina's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in to match his intensity. "Oh, Vince," she murmured, her breath warm against his skin. "I'm looking for someone who can handle a little excitement. Someone who's not afraid to take risks."

Regina's gaze locked onto his, her eyes shimmering with intrigue. "And what about you, Vince? Are you a man who enjoys taking risks?"

Vince flashed a charming smile, feeling the weight of the moment. "Oh, you could say that. I'm always up for a thrill."

“I like that. Taking risks is… sexy,” Regina whispered, her breath tickling Vince’s ear. She caressed his face with the sleeve of her coat, the soft hairs brushing his cheeks, giving him goosebumps.

“So, Vince, what do you do? What’s your story?” she asked suddenly.

He had to come up with something quickly so as to not blow his cover. Luckily she had no idea who he really was.

"Oh, you know," he replied nonchalantly, his mind racing to come up with a convincing cover story. "Just a man trying to make his way in the world. But don’t worry about boring old me. I'm more interested in hearing about your adventures. I bet you have some stories to tell."

Regina raised her eyebrow as she smiled, slightly surprised by his response.

“Tell you what. Why don’t we continue our conversation somewhere else. I’ve got a VIP booth,” she suggested.

“Sounds good,” he replied delightedly. She was making this all too easy. This was going to be a piece of cake.

They made their way across the venue to the lone VIP booth, Regina’s heels clicking loudly. As they settled into the plush seating of the VIP booth, the atmosphere shifted, crackling with anticipation. Regina leaned in closer, her scent intoxicating Vince as she spoke.

"So, Vince, you never really told me more about yourself," she purred, her voice low and seductive.

Vince swallowed hard, realizing the importance of maintaining his facade. He had to keep Regina intrigued, keep her distracted from his true intentions.

"Well, there's not much to tell, really," he began, his words carefully chosen. "Just a guy with a taste for adventure, you know? Always looking for excitement, trying to live life to the fullest."

Regina sighed.

“You seem to have a thing… for women older than you. How old are you anyway, Vince?” she asked, squinting her eyes in curiosity. She caressed her coat up and down, the soft fur yielding to her hand with each stroke.

“I’m 25,” he replied.

Regina's lips curved into a knowing smile as she continued to study Vince, her gaze piercing yet playful.

"Ah, 25," she mused, her voice like velvet. "Such a tender age, full of promise and potential."

Vince shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, acutely aware of the need to maintain his cover.

"Age is just a number, right?" he quipped, attempting to steer the conversation away from his youth.

Regina chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down Vince's spine.

"Indeed it is, Vince. But tell me, what is it about older women that intrigues you?" she pressed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Vince hesitated for a moment, weighing his words carefully. He couldn't reveal too much, couldn't risk blowing his cover.

"I suppose I've always been drawn to maturity, experience," he replied, his voice steady despite the nerves that churned in his stomach. "There's something captivating about a woman who knows what she wants, who isn't afraid to go after it."

Regina's smile widened, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. She was still caressing her fur coat gently. She looked at her hand teasing the soft fluffiness at the coat’s seams

“What do you think of fur, Vince?” she asked, her voice smooth as silk, a subtle challenge in her tone.

Vince's gaze followed Regina's hand as it glided over the soft fur of her coat, his mind racing with the need to maintain the illusion of charm and intrigue.

"It's... exquisite… elegant," he replied, his voice husky with desire. "There's something undeniably alluring about it."

He couldn’t and wouldn’t hide it. He found women in fur coats incredibly attractive. There was something about the softness, the status it added and the sensuality he admired deeply. Ever since a child he had seen women in fur clothing. He had always wanted to caress them and play with them but he wasn’t allowed.

Regina's smile deepened, a knowing glint in her eyes as she continued to stroke the fur with a delicate touch.

"I'm glad you think so," she purred, her voice a seductive whisper. "Because, you see, Vince, I have a particular fondness for fur. It's a symbol of luxury, of indulgence. And I have a feeling you appreciate the finer things in life, am I right?"

"Absolutely," he replied, his voice filled with conviction. "I believe in embracing pleasure, in seizing every opportunity that comes my way."

“Mm,” she acknowledged, her gaze filled with satisfaction as she tickled Vince’s chin. “Vince, why don’t we head out… and continue this conversation at my place?”

He had done it. He had seduced Regina Savarino. But he was really only half way there. His remaining objective was to have her reveal the confidential information about her husband’s activities. The capo would surely praise Vince for this.

“I like that idea,” he whispered, totally prepared for what was to come, and moreover step 2 of the plan.

Regina smiled slyly as she grabbed Vince’s hand with surprising intensity, her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through him. Without a word, she began to lead him outside of the club, her movements confident and purposeful. Vince's heart raced with anticipation, unsure of what lay ahead but eager to follow wherever Regina led.

The chauffeur was waiting for her in the Mercedes leaning into the car smoking a cigarette. He saw Regina and Vince exit hastily from the club, the door almost flunging open. The driver swiftly opened the car door for the pair.

“Enzo, take us to my penthouse, pronto!” she commanded, excitement extruding out of her voice, yet there was something mischievous about it.

“Yes, ma’am,” Enzo replied.

As the sleek Mercedes pulled away from the curb, the atmosphere inside the car was charged with a palpable tension. Regina sat close to Vince, her presence a tantalizing blend of allure and mystery. The low hum of the engine filled the silence between them, punctuated only by the occasional sound of tires rolling over pavement.

Vince stole glances at Regina, his pulse quickening with each passing moment. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, a mischievous glint dancing in their depths. He couldn't help but wonder what awaited him at her penthouse, what secrets lay hidden behind its luxurious facade.

As they arrived at the imposing building housing Regina's penthouse, the Mercedes glided to a smooth stop. Vince's heart hammered in his chest as he followed Regina out of the car and into the opulent lobby. The grandeur of the surroundings only added to the sense of anticipation that pulsed through him.

Regina led the way, her steps confident and purposeful as they ascended the marble staircase to the private elevator. Vince couldn't shake the feeling of excitement mixed with apprehension that coursed through him with each passing moment. He was so close to completing his objective.

Finally, the elevator doors opened to reveal the lavish expanse of Regina's penthouse. The space was bathed in soft, golden light, casting a warm glow over everything it touched. Vince's breath caught in his throat at the sight, his senses overwhelmed by the opulence that surrounded him.

Regina turned to him with a smile, her eyes alight with excitement. "Welcome to my humble abode, Vince," she said, her voice a soft murmur that sent shivers down his spine.

As they stepped further into the penthouse, Vince couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration mingled with trepidation. Regina, ready to make Vince’s night, grabbed his hand once more and led him to the bedroom.

The bedroom exuded an air of luxury and intimacy, with plush furnishings and soft, ambient lighting casting a warm glow over the space. Vince's heart raced with anticipation as Regina guided him further into the room, her movements graceful and deliberate. As a contrast to the soft vibe, a white wooden X-frame, decorated with glowing golden accents and a head rest, stood tall at the corner of the bedroom.

Vince turned to Regina. “Regina, I bet as a wife of a mob boss, you harbor a lot of secrets. I’m looking forward to uncovering all of them. It turns me on so much. I love knowing what I’m not supposed to,” he whispered, incredibly aroused, oozing with desire.

“You’ve got no idea, dear Vince,” she whispered, her voice sensual and husky. “But don’t rush so much. I have a surprise for you. Stay right there.”

She strolled seductively behind a dressing screen. A tent was pitching in Vince’s pants and there was no hiding it. He waited with great anticipation what would be revealed from behind the elegant, mysterious dressing screen.

Vince heard heels slowly clicking as he saw a figure taking shape. Behind the screen emerged Regina dressed in black lacy 3 piece lingerie set the impossibly soft golden island fur coat still draped around her. She caressed the seams of the fur up and down slowly and seductively as she approached Vince.

His jaw almost dropped to the floor in pure lust. He couldn’t help but stare at her in total awe of her beauty. He pulled Regina close. “I can’t wait to uncover all of you: all your secrets and desires. I want to know what makes a lady like you tick,” Vince whispered, pulsing with desire.

“All in due time,” she whispered back, taking a hold of Vince’s jacket and unbuttoning it slowly. Next came off the shirt, as Regina admired his lean body. She caressed his midriff and up his chest with the sleeve of her coat, giving Vince shivers. The silky fur tickled slightly but felt pleasant traveling up his body.

Regina giggled as she saw Vince twitch slightly. “Ticklish, Vince?” she purred, blowing into his ear. She reached for his belt and started to unbuckle it. Down came the slacks and with them the underwear that was protecting his undeniable and visible excitement. She looked at his enlarged cock and smiled slyly to herself. “Your cock seems to like it when I touch you with my fur. I think I discovered one of your secrets, Vincy.”

Regina took a gentle hold of his arms and started to push him towards the X-frame looming in the corner of the lush bedroom. “One secret about me, Vince, is that I’m a bit… kinky,” she admitted playfully, acting embarrassed. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I’m open to anything. Like I said, I’m always up for a thrill,” he grinned.

“Perfect… spread your limbs for me…” she whispered, taking a gentle nibble out of his ear.

Click, click, click and click. He was tied to the X-frame by his wrists and ankles, with no escape.

“You look so helpless and sexy right now, Vince,” she whispered, caressing his sides with her fluffy cuffs. “I could do anything I’d like to you, Fur boy. Aren’t you nervous?” she asked, continuing her stroking down to his waist and into his inner thighs.

“I like danger, Regina. You know that,” he moaned as the soft fur caressed his body ever so gently.

“Aren’t you afraid it would bite you back? That playing with fire would burn you sooner or later?” she questioned, with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Her hands wandered back up again closing in on his exposed armpits.

“There’s always a risk, I guess,” he replied.

“You’re right, Vince,” she purred, her voice low and seductive as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear. She started gently skittering her long red nails in his wide open armpits. “You’re absolutely right.”

The sudden tickling caught poor Vince off guard. His laughter erupted uncontrollably, mingling with Regina's soft chuckles. He squirmed beneath her touch, trying to evade the ticklish assault, but she persisted, her nails dancing over his skin with expert precision.

Regina leaned back slightly, a wicked grin playing on her lips as she watched Vince wriggle and squirm. "See, Vince? Sometimes, a little risk is exactly what we need to feel alive," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“WHATHEHEHEHEHE FUHUHUHUHUCK? LET ME GOHOHOHOHOHOHO!” he pleaded helplessly, his laughter echoing off the bedroom walls filling the room with ticklish sounds of despair and hopelessness. He bucked, left to right, front to back, trying to evade the spidering nails of his fur clad tickler.

Regina giggled evilly as she tickled his vulnerable flesh. She shifted her focus downwards, towards his sides. Tickling the hopeless Apolloni soldier gave her such immense satisfaction. Her nails moved with lightning speed. It was like millions of tiny tiny feathers caressed his sensitive skin.

Vince’s laughter only intensified when she targeted the new tickle spot. His heart pounding and adrenaline pumping through his veins. His fight or flight triggered, he couldn’t do anything but stay there, exposed and vulnerable. He could buck and plead as much as he liked but he was totally hers. Hers to tease, hers to torment, hers to tickle.

She moved her fingers down to his waist as she came closer to the cackling Vince. “Say, you’re awfully ticklish Vince. I cannot say I was totally surprised. Caressing you with fur made you shiver and twitch,” she said, skittering her nails under his stomach. “You have a bit of a fur fetish, don’t you, Vince?”

He couldn’t answer. He was too busy laughing and bucking. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I- I- I- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Only ticklish laughter, no words. Regina knew he couldn’t respond but wanted to tease him anyway. She had learned that psychological teasing is almost just as important as physical teasing.

Vince’s cock pulsed and jolted around as he bucked around trapped to the beautiful, white X-frame. Regina took notice of it, letting out a sultry low giggle. She stopped tickling him for a second to caress him with her fur again. “Tickling doesn’t really turn you off, now does it?” she whispered, the soft hairs of fur stroking around his pelvis. He was charged with arousal but he couldn’t say a word. He panted like a dog and tried to catch his breath after the ticklish exploitation he had endured.

Knock knock. Someone was at the door. It opened and in stepped a 60-year-old man with a suit, his gray hair parted in the middle and a cigar in his mouth.

“Hey, honey,” Regina greeted.

Don Savarino. He walked closer into the bedroom taking a puff. “Now would ya look at this? Another little fly caught in the web. What’s your name son?” he asked.

“Vince… pant… Vince Medici…” he replied.

“You with the Apollonis?” Savarino questioned.

“Go… pant… to… pant… Hell…” Vince cursed.

“Heh, guessed as much, son,” Savarino snorted, knowing exactly who Vince was now. “You Apolloni boys never learn… or anyone else for that matter.”

“What do you mean?” Vince asked, puzzled by what Savarino meant.

“Ya hear about my wife and then think to yourselves with ya little monkey brains that wooing her would help ya milk some info outta her. And they always end up in this situation. My wife’s a big tickler but I’m not really a fan of all that so we figured this way she’d have some fun too. I catch some snoopers and she gets to make some poor sucker laugh to death. Win win,” Savarino explained, the scheme now unfolding in Vince’s mind.

“You’ll pay for this, Savarino!” Vince yelled.

“Yeah yeah, keep yapping. Have fun ya two!” the don waved his hand as he made his exit.

“We will!” Regina chimed in as she turned to Vince and wiggled her fingers. She struck at his ribs, wreaking jolts of ticklish havoc instantly on his helpless body. “At least I will. Tickle tickle, Fur boy!” she teased. Her tickle talk made Vince blush even harder than before, not even considering that first he had been tricked so easily into being tickle tortured, he had to endure a personal humiliation from Don Savarino himself and he couldn’t hide his arousal.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUCKING BITCH! LET ME GO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” he laughed and cursed, his face red with defeat.

“Aww, you don’t have to be embarrassed. You aren’t the first chump I’ve tickle tickle tickled to bits. But the fact, Vince, is that I like you. Furs and tickles turn you on, you can’t hide it. So just keep laughing for me like the good Tickle boy you are… and I’ll give you some love too,” she said slowly, caressing his erect sex with her fluffy fur whilst scribbling her fingers on his skin making sure to not pleasure him too much. For a second his laughter mixed with moans as the fur glided on his sensitive skin, eliciting an arousing mixture of softness and tantalizing tickles.

She started tickling up and down his arms, her movements feather-light yet relentless. Vince's laughter grew louder, his attempts to escape her touch becoming more frantic. Regina reveled in the sound, her mischievous grin widening as she enjoyed the playful interaction between them. With each ticklish squirm from Vince, she felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing she had the power to both tease and delight him in equal measure.

“See? You love me and my ticklish touch. You’re not fooling anyone here,” she notified, stopping her tickling and walking over to her wardrobe.

Vince watched, twitching in ticklish ecstasy, as she graciously opened the huge door of the wardrobe and pulled out something fuzzy and long. It was silver in color and glistened in the bedroom light, its soft texture inviting yet mysterious. As Regina approached him with the object in hand, Vince's curiosity piqued, his face warping into eager anticipation.

“What do you think about fur stoles, Vince?” she asked as she set the fluffy silver fox fur stole around her neck, the luxurious material draping elegantly over her shoulders. Vince's eyes widened in admiration at the sight, his gaze lingering on the opulent accessory. She walked closer to Vince, her stole slightly swinging with each step.

“One could say even more elegant than a coat," she mused, a playful glint in her eyes as she adjusted the stole with a graceful motion. "After all, a stole adds a touch of sophistication and allure, don't you think?" Her lips curved into a knowing smile as she awaited Vince's response, already aware of the effect her sartorial choice had on him. “But that’s a matter of taste.”

Regina looked at Vince’s cock. It was begging for attention.

“They are mainly sexy accessories,” she said, taking the long stole off her neck and kneeling down. “But who’s to say that they can’t have other uses… as tools,” she continued, wrapping the stole gently around his manhood. “As tools of pleasure, of soft ecstasy.”

Vince moaned as the fluffy stole entwined around his penis and Regina started pumping the soft accessory up and down, giving him a furjob. The soft tickle of the fur felt relaxing yet tantalizing. Each fluffy caress, sending signals of pleasure and desire to his brain. His pulsating member was totally engulfed in impossibly soft and teasing fur.

“But I’m not done with you yet,” Regina announced, unwrapping the stole so cruelly from Vince and setting it around her neck once more.

“Please continue!” Vince pleaded.

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel my stole again. But for now I have something else for you,” she consoled.

Regina moved over to a big white chest next to the X-frame. She opened it and picked up something. “I hope you like feathers, Vince,” she said, pulling out a massive feather duster. It must’ve been around 3 feet long, adorned with pearl white ostrich feathers on top of a wooden handle.

“I had this custom made… for ticklish men like you,” she said, twirling the huge tickle tool around. “A tease for the eyes, isn’t it? Imagine all these feathers, exploring and engulfing your body in unimaginable ticklish softness. Would you like that?”

“Don’t tickle me, please,” Vince begged.

“Don’t lie to yourself, Tickle boy,” Regina rolled her eyes slightly amused.

The ocean of feathers descended upon Vince’s body, sending soft tingles of ticklishness coursing through his senses. His cock jolted as the pleasurable feathers swayed all over his ticklish form tantalizing his flesh. Up, down, left, right the feathers traveled leaving heavenly tickles in their wake. His mind was scrambled and the only word he could think about was tickle… tickle… tickle….

The feathers covered every inch of where the duster was targeted. His arms, sides, chest and legs. No spot was safe from the ticklish feather cloud of the duster. Vince didn’t know whether to laugh or moan, as his voice became a mixture of both: ticklish despair and pure unadulterated pleasure.

“Please, let me go… hahahaha… I’ll give you all the info you want… pant…” he pleaded

“Don’t you understand, Vince? I don’t care about any of your Apolloni stuff,” she clarified, coming in close whispering. “The only thing I want is to tickle you. And we both know you don’t wanna leave. You want me to keep tickling you. You want me to keep pleasuring you. And that’s exactly what’s gonna happen, Tickle boy.”

Vince was still squirming, trying to evade the feathers, but Regina was having none of it. She set one of her hands behind his back, the fur of her coat softly caressing him, and pulled him closer directly towards the duster. Despite his efforts, he couldn’t pull away, caught in the irresistible grip of her playful coercion, engulfing him in a whirlwind of ticklish sensation. Regina directed her tickle tool to his burning crotch. She wiggled her duster as the ostrich feathers totally enveloped his package filling him with ticklish pleasure.

“That’s it. Let the feathers take hold over you, let them tickle you. Embrace the sensation, coochie coo,” Regina whispered into Vince’s ear.

Vince moaned loudly as she giggled with soft sadism. “My duster’s lovely, isn’t it?” she teased, her voice dripping with playful satisfaction as she watched him squirm under the ticklish assault. The duster's feathers danced tantalizingly over his genitals, eliciting a mixture of pleasure and torment that left him utterly stunned in ticklishness. It’s like an angel of God was sent down to Earth to personally tickle him. It was no angel, however. Rather a tickle demoness.

Regina stopped slowly easing the duster away. “But I miss your laugh,” she informed, setting the duster on the bed next to them.

She walked behind the X-frame and pulled a lever. To Vince’s surprise, the bondage device tilted back 90 degrees and he was now lying down. Regina went back over to where his feet were now exposed. And alas, the ticklish scribbling of her nails met his sensitive soles.

“NO! NOHOHOHOHOHO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Vince begged, laughing hysterically. The tickling before had been unbearable and he wasn’t sure he could take in anymore. Regina was a true sadist. She took pleasure in seeing Vince squirm and scream in ticklish despair. It turned her on.

Regina bowed down slightly, broadening her reach. Her fur stole swang side to side almost touching the floor as she tried to keep up with his wiggling feet. She was having the time of her life tormenting him and so was Vince. His cock was already dripping with precum ready to explode.

Regina’s nails explored his feet thoroughly. She moved to his heels and back to his soles. Her nails ran up and down his ticklish arches, causing him to howl with helpless laughter. The tickler’s fingers rose up to the balls of his feet making him spring and jolt in his restraints.

“That’s it. Laugh for me! Don’t hold anything back! It tickles! It tickles so much! You can’t help it! Laugh!” she urged, so incredibly aroused by his ticklish helplessness.

Vince’s stomach ached from laughing so much, and it worsened every second Regina’s nails glided along his feet, exposing every ticklish weakness. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, his breath coming in short gasps between fits of laughter. Despite the discomfort, there was a strange thrill in surrendering to Regina's torment, each ticklish sensation sending waves of both agony and ecstasy through his body.

Regina ceased her assault and walked between his legs. She leaned forward and continued by targeting her talons to Vince’s ticklish vulnerable armpits once more. The fur of her coat caressed his sides as she scribbled in and around his poor pits. Her stole, moving as she tickled, caressed his inner thighs gently teasing him to bits.

She quickly moved her hands to his hips, deliberately keeping her arms close to his body, ensuring that her soft fur stroked him along with every tickle. Regina reached over to the bed and picked up her duster again, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she prepared to unleash a newfound mixture of ticklish torment upon Vince.

She laughed sadistically as her left hand still spidered along his left side and hip, as she fluttered the huge feathered tickle stick along his defenseless body with her right hand. Regina tickled his face quickly with the duster as she grabbed a tail of her stole and stroked it up and down his cock for a moment, resuming the tickling right after.

The soft and intense hurricane of tickling left Vince breathless and utterly defeated, his body writhing with uncontrollable laughter as Regina's skilled fingers worked their magic. Every nerve ending tingled with sensation, his senses overwhelmed by the dizzying whirlwind of pleasure and torment. Surrendering completely to the ticklish onslaught, Vince found himself lost in a state of euphoric exhaustion, unable to do anything but succumb to the irresistible power of Regina's domination.

“PLEASE LET ME CUM! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I AM ABOUT TO LOSE IT! HAHAHAHAHAHA!” he pleaded.

“Aww, had enough of your tickles?” Regina teased, giggling at his helplessness.

“YES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I NEED TO CUM! PLEASE!” he screamed.

“Alright, alright, Fur tickle boy,” Regina consoled, as she relented with Vince gasping for air.

She set the duster back on the bed and stroked up and down his legs. Vince tried to twist his body closer to Regina, who was still standing between his legs. Her fox fur stole still hung in his inner thighs looming near his genitals and he was trying to get closer to it.

Regina raised her eyebrow puzzled at his movements until she looked down. “Oooh, you miss my fluffy stole, don’t you? Well, you’re in luck because she missed you too,” she winked, personifying the fur stole, as she lifted the soft accessory from her shoulders.

“She missed coiling around you… and tickling… and pleasuring you,” she whispered in a low, husky and sultry manner as she wrapped the stole around his manhood once more.

“She missed having her fur caress every sensitive inch of you, engulfing you, making you moan as her soft fluff brings you closer and closer to pure heavenly bliss,” she teased, stroking the soft fur on his flesh.

Vince moaned in pure lasciviousness as he looked at Regina smiling gently while stroking the stole up and down his cock. The fur truly felt blissful after the relentless tickling he had endured a few minutes prior. Regina had put him through Tickle Hell and Fur Heaven was the reward for his endurance. Vince stared at Regina as he saw her eyes squint, as if she had just got an idea.

“But Miss Stole isn’t selfish. She likes sharing,” she said as she started to stroke his inner thighs with her golden island fox coat, still pumping the silver fox stole with one hand.

Getting closer and closer to the edge Vince moaned loudly aroused by the double fur treatment. The soft tickle of the fur around his genitals and inner thighs awakened new heights of arousal, desire and lust within him. He wished he could stay like this forever. Pleasured by Regina and her ever-so-soft furs.

“You see, I can be nice to people I like. Sink into the feeling of my fur, Vince. Sink into it. Let it bring you closer to paradise. Let it stroke you. Let it caress you. Let it tickle you. Let it pleasure you until you scream with ecstasy,” Regina teased, taking joy in making him ooze with desire.

As Vince neared his orgasm his whole body was on fire. He was so ready to explode in blissful pleasure. He was so close. The amazingly soft fur felt so good rubbing him all over his most sensitive parts. Each hair, each strand, each piece of fur joined in an ecstatic orchestra aiming to send Vince to Cloud Nine.

“Cum. Cum for me Vince. Let my fur bring you to orgasm, Tickle boy. Cum for your fur goddess,” Regina urged.

Vince had been tickled, pleasured, tickled and pleasured again. His cock felt like it was about to split in half. His senses heightened, he felt every single individual fur caress his sensitive skin. His limbs were tingling and cramping. The stole and the coat felt so good tickling between his legs.

And so he came as he yelled in pure, unfiltered and raw bliss. All of his muscles joined in unison as he sprung up in his restraints. The intense screams of pleasure echoed throughout the bedroom as hot sperm spewed out of Vince’s penis. Every nerve in his body tingled down towards his crotch.

As he blasted the last drop of cum from his cock, Vince was exhausted. He panted heavily, still strapped to the X-frame. His legs shook as cold sweat dripped down his body. Vince felt his eyes become heavy.

Vince heard one last thing as he slowly fell into a slumber, passing out: "That's it, Tickle boy. Go to sleep."

[incompleteth0ts]

At your best(you are loved)

Prompt for day 2:

“I was tempted to take a nap at Hades’ feet. Curl up here and sleep forever.”

“Percy, if we want to make the reservation, we must leave now.”

“I’m coming Hades, don’t get your wife's panties in a twist.”

Percy smiled at his reflection when he heard his wife laugh down the hall. Putting on the rest of his jewelry, Percy ran out of his bedroom, grabbed his jacket out of Hades' hands, and offered his arm to Persephone.

“You make us late for dinner; you steal my wife, and now you expect me to get the door. What am I going to do with you, seastar?”

Percy blushed at the kiss the older man gave him. Despite the complaints, the words were said with so much fondness that Percy almost felt sick. He’s been with the married couple for nearly six years, yet they still made him as shy as the day he met them.

Percy tried to steal another kiss, but Persephone was already dragging him out the door and to the car. Percy rolled his eyes at Hade's chauffeur, and the limo parked pretty at the top of the driveway.

“Hey, Charon.”

“Hello, Percy.”

The inside of the limo was covered in red leather and had fluorescent lights illuminating the hardwood floor in the car.

The limo smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. A tell-tale sign that Persephone had been in the car earlier. Hades crawled inside the vehicle after me and his wife and waved a dismissive hand at his chauffeur the way he always did when the older man asked for a raise.

I sat next to the mini fridge that was unfortunately empty and across from my aunt, who was pulling out party favor wine bottles from the ice chest. There was a variety of 8 oz bottles that I feared she would binge on before we even made it to the restaurant.

“Out the bottles down, Persephone. You can drink at the restaurant.”

“You are such a bore. I was only seeing what the limo service had to offer; just look, they even have whiskey.”

I watched as Persephone opened her black Gucci bag and carefully snuggled three of the bottles in the bottom of it.

“You guys are a bunch of alcoholics. Keep this up, and you won’t live to see me graduate from med school.”

“And not embarrass you in front of all of your little friends? I don’t care if I need to pull up in a hearse, you’re going to see us.”

“Bold of you to assume you’re going to graduate.”

Persephone grabbed an ice cube from the bucket and threw it at Hades' forehead.

My night in sexy armor.

“Oh shut up, you grouchy, old man. Ignore him; he's just mad because he hates joy and fun.”

My uncle rolled his eyes and lowered the divider to ask Charon how much longer until we got to the restaurant.

“Be patient Hades; the table isn’t going anywhere.”

“No, but the reservation expires in less than an hour, and I’d hate to miss it; it was nearly impossible to set up a reservation for this place. I had to schedule for a week in advance.”

I blinked at the wealthy man and watched Persephone do the same.

“Hades…please shut up.”

“Yes dear, do be quiet, not all of us grew up swimming in Olympic pools of gold coins and having our butts wiped with Benjamins.”

“I do something nice, and I’m immediately made the bad guy.”

“Yes, now be the good guy, and get out of the limo, you’re trapping me and Percy in.”

I pressed my face against the glass to take a look at the building we had pulled up to. The sign at the front of the restaurant read, ‘Lago’. The entire building appeared to be white and had an open patio that overlooked the Vegas Eiffel Tower.

“I’m going to send you back home if you don’t stop pressing me against the door Persephone.”

“You don’t seem to mind it when we’re at home.”

“Not to be a buzzkill of anything, but I can feel my stomach eating my shirt through my belly button. Can we go inside and eat?

“See Persephone, the boy is starving.”

Hades held my hand as he helped me leave the vehicle. Persephone was standing by the driver's side window, telling Charon when she wanted him to pick us up. I almost felt bad for the guy. Did he ever sleep? I’m pretty sure he was even older than Hades.

“You look handsome, Perseus.”

Hades brought my hand to his lips and kissed my inner wrist. He was an old-school lover, but maybe that’s why I enjoyed being kissed by him. He reminded me of my father but could keep a wife and choose not to abandon his family.

“Thank you. Did you notice I’m wearing the earrings you gave me last week?”

“Of course, I was beginning to worry you didn’t like them. I was planning on buying you a different pair.”

“Didn’t those earrings come in a set, though? If you throw them out he’d have nothing to match the bracelet and necklace, too.”

Persephone flanked my other side as Hades led us to the entrance of the building.

“I would have bought you a whole new set. One much more expensive and attractive.”

“And one that matched your eyes better. You look good in diamonds, but you would look perfect in sapphire or zircon.”

“He would look perfect in anything.”

I sucked my gut in to make room for the rich couple to kiss around me. Hades put his hands on my waist, and Persephone curled a strand of my hair. If I leaned into one of them enough, they would diverge and kiss me.

“The reservations, dear?”

“Can wait.”

My stomach gave an unappealing kick. “No, I don’t think they can. I’m hungry now, baby.”

Pressing one last kiss behind my ear, Hades peeled himself off me and straightened his suit.

“In that case, what kind of man would I be if I let my lovers starve? After you two.”

The inside of Lago was just as white as the outside. Multiple fluorescent lights gave the room a heavenly look, not metaphorically but rather literally. It's like an airport to heaven.

The back wall appeared to be made entirely of glass, giving the guest a full view of the fountain display outside.

“This place is gorgeous.”

“Nice to know you like it; this is where I took Persephone for our first date. I hoped you would like it too.”

Hades was waved by a passing waiter and held out his ID.

“I made reservations for the patio view. I want a mint spritzer, two glasses of bourbon, one with ice and one without, and a pineapple amigo.”

Without waiting for the approval of the poor, employee Hades made his way to the top of the restaurant.

When we got to the open patio, I was starstruck. I've seen photos of the view before, but none of them brought the place justice. The lights reflected off the white and blue decals and gave the experience an expensive air.

“Do you like it? I made sure to get you the best seats in the whole damn restaurant.”

I spun around the room, falling over one of the wicker

Deck chairs pointed towards the fountain.

“Why is there no one else here?”

“I got reservations for the entire patio dear; no one is coming up here but the staff.”

“Damn Hades, what's into you today? Is something special planned today?”

Hades and Persephone shared a silent look from across the room. It was one of those glances I have yet to decipher; it was something that usually meant ‘We're both hiding something from you, but it's not the time to share it’.

“Try not to think so hard about it, or you'll hurt yourself. Now, look at the menu and see what appeals to you.”

A waitress different from the young man that was flagged down earlier brought us our drinks and left once Persephone told her we were still searching.

“The fonts are starting to hurt my eyes. What do you two recommend? I've never been here.”

Hades scanned over my menu before pointing towards the bottom. “You'll enjoy, Polpo Lago.”

“Or the, Calamari alla Griglia.”

“Yikes, I'll just get whatever is easier to pronounce.”

“Don't you speak Spanish?”

“Doesn't mean these words aren't a mouthful.”

I picked up the Mint spritzer and gave it a sniff. I didn't trust the alcohol that strangers made, but if anything happened to me, I was confident Hades and Persephone would bomb the building for me.

“What do you think? Do you want me to send it back?”

“No, it’s fine. Plus I’d hate to be a bother”

Persephone put her hand on my knee.

“Oh sweetheart, you could never be a bother.”

“I was talking about the staff.”

Hades downed his first glass of bourbon and picked up the second.

“Bother them all you want. That’s what they're here for.”

“As someone who’s worked in customer service in the past. Fuck you.”

The waitress from earlier marched back up the stairs with a pen and notepad.

“Have you three decided what to order yet?”

The woman had an accent.

“Yes me and my husband will be having…”

The accent was thick. It was hard to understand what she was saying. It sounded Polish. Maybe Romanian? She was pale. Her complexion reminded me of Abbey from Monster High.

“Percy! Do you want the waitress to bring you anything else?”

While I was lost in my head, Hades and Persephone had managed to order our food and refills.

It looks like it was my turn to act like an adult.

“I’m good with everything you guys got; just make sure to keep my water glass filled.”

Hell yeah.

“Excuse him, he’s more eyebrows than brain.”

“You said you liked my eyebrows.”

“I do.”

The waitress walked off with our order and Persephone went back and forth on the state of my eyebrows.

“What were you so lost in thought over?”

I stopped mid-sentence to look in Hades ' direction. He was looking at the direction the waitress turned in like he was waiting for her to come back so he could pick a fight with her.

“I was thinking about her accent. She reminded me of Abbey from Monster High.”

“You mean that show your sister watches?” Persephone pulled out one of the limo wines from her purse and poured it into her restaurant drink. “Didn’t we buy her like, three of them for her thirteenth birthday?”

“Yeah, Cleo, Ghoulia, and Clawdeen.”

“Ghoulia was my favorite.”

Persephone pulled out a pack of cigarettes from Hades' coat pocket but put them back at the look I shot at her. I hated it when they smoked around me.

“I'll be right back.”

Hades stomped down the stairs, disappearing.

“What's up with him?”

“Who knows.”

After too long of a while, Hades came back with a new waiter in tow.

“What did that jealous old man do now?”

The waiter quickly dished out our orders and left without a word. I made a point not to look at him just as Hades made a point of not looking at us as he began to eat his meal.

“Hades.”

“...”

“What did you do to the waitress.”

“...Just eat your dinner dear.”

____

I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my stomach. I ended up eating a little bit of everything off the menu. It was spectacular having to date two rich people.

“I’m stuffed to the brim, I don’t know if I can eat anymore or else my buttons will go flying.”

Persephone chuckled and rubbed wide circles on my tummy like I was our pet dogdogNot even dessert?”

I sat up straight and grabbed the nearest fork. “Maybe one dessert.”

Hades had disappeared again earlier, and said he was going to put in a ‘special request’.

“Hey, Sephone, do you know why Hades is acting so loopy today?”

“Persephone stacked up our empty plates for the waiter to pick up when he got back.

“Hades is…an enigma. Try not to worry too much, you know how he is in public spaces.”

A small group of servers walked onto the patio cleared the table and left just as quickly as they arrived.

“Where is that husband of yours? If this keeps up I’m going to start thinking that he no longer wants us.”

“I don’t think there is a lifetime or universe where I don’t want either of you.”

Turning around I was planning on chewing Hades out for making us wait so long but froze when I saw the plate he was holding. In his hand was a slice of blue cake.

“Happy anniversary.”

What.

“What! What do you mean-”

“Hades your ass, it is not our anniversary, calm down Percy.”

Hades' shoulders shook with laughter as he handed me the slice of cake. “She’s right, I just wanted to make you sweat.”

I swat Hades' arm when he moved close enough pushing his face away when he leaned in for a kiss.

“No way, you don’t get a treat after scaring me like that. Persephone can have it.”

I took Persephone’s hand pressing my lips to her giggling mouth. She’s drunk all night so far and if she kept up she wouldn’t remember anything tomorrow. Her mouth tasted fruity and made me feel tipsy myself.

“That’s enough you two, keep this up and you're splitting the bill.”

Me and Persephone separated with a wet pop. After taking sobering sips of my water (and thinking of naked grandma’s) I felt clear-headed enough to dig into my cake. The inside was chocolatey and spongey like red velvet, when Hades had ordered my cake he must have put in the works. The cake wasn’t as good as my mom's, but it was still tasty.

“If you two could excuse me, I’m going to head out and powder my nose.”

Persephone pulled out the Hades pack of cigarettes and a box of matches then headed down the stairs.

Hades pulled me close to his side as I finished my slice of dessert. I pulled my feet up on Persephone's abandoned spot and leaned my weight on him. If I was a cat I pur would have made itself known in my chest by now. Despite all the fun I loved to poke at him I couldn’t help but feel like such a schoolgirl with him.

Hades was old enough to be my father, even older than him. Persephone wasn’t that much younger than Hades herself, midway through her thirties and still as blooming as ever. Hades was twice my age and five times more mature. Maybe I was overglazing him, but he made me feel…extraordinary.

Yawning I felt myself slipping into the beginnings of a nap. I was tempted to take a nap at Hades’ feet. Curl up here and sleep forever. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.

“Tired seastar?”

“Yeah. Thank you for taking me out here. I can see why Persephone loves it so much.”

“Mhmm.”

Hades lifted my head and pulled me into a kiss. I couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed with him. The kiss was different than the tipsy one I’d shared with Persephone, even though he’d had just as many glasses of bourbons as she had ‘amigos’, he was much better at holding his liquor than either of us.

“Percy. I must admit that there is a reason why I haven’t brought you here until now.”

Hades slid down the couch and kneeled in front of me, grasping my hands.

“Percy I am so proud of you. Since the day I met you, I knew that you would live on to be great. You once told me that you’ve had people look down on you all your life and you felt that you wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything.”

“Damn Hades, way to not hold back.” I intertwined my finger with him leaning down to kiss him. He was such a sap. I wanted to hop into his lap and let him talk me through _____.

“Percy. This is the spot where I proposed to Persephone nearly eleven years ago,”

My heart fell to the bottom of my shoes as I watched Hades pull out a blue velvet box from Persephone’s purse. Popping the box open a band of black gold coiled around embedded sapphires until meeting at the center drawing my attention to the center of the show, a dark blue tanzanite that gleamed under the patio’s fairy lights.

“And Percy. This is the spot where I’m now going to ask you the same question. Perseus Jackson, will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

I ripped the box out of Hades’ hand so I could snap the lid shut and throw it on the chair I was previously occupying. Falling into my fiance’s lap, I kissed him until his lungs couldn’t take anymore. I pressed my forehead to his and tried not to sob into his mouth.

“I love you fiercely, Percy.”

“I love you too. Now let’s go back home so we can celebrate in our bed with Sephy.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I celebrated a proposal here.”

“Wait, what?”

_______

DAY 2!!!

@hadesxpercy-events

[imagines-fandom-backup]

Chapter 2.1

Masterlist

Warnings- Usual PB violence, swearing, allusion to SA at the very end

2 years later

All of us were gathered around Freddie's casket. Tommy stepped forward. "I promised my friend, Freddie Thorne, that I would say a few words over his grave if he should pass before me. I made this promise before he became my brother-in-law, when we were in France, fighting for the king. And in the end, it wasn't war that took Freddie. Pestilence took him. But Freddie passed on his soul and his spirit to a new generation before he was cruelly taken." The service ended right after that.

I took a little walk with Thomas and Ada. 

"We thought now that Freddie's gone, you might come back to Birmingham."

"We really miss you, Ada."

"God, do you know how funny it is that Tommy's got chauffeurs in uniform now?"

"It's just for the occasion."

"Do you know how unfair it is that you have 4 Bugattis when half the country's starving?"

"So now they've made you ashamed of us, eh?" We stopped walking.

"Sometimes when I think about how I used to be, it makes me embarrassed." Tommy and I glanced at each other. 

Polly walked up to us with a smile. 

"Karl is with his cousins. I caught them trying to pinch flowers off a grave. Ada, are you coming home?" 

"I'm going home."

"We make her embarrassed," I mumbled. 

I looked at Ada who rolled her eyes. 

"That's not what I said."

"There's another reason we want you home. We're planning an expansion. I'm taking premises in London."

"Tommy, it's a funeral. Business can wait."

"Polly, if Ada was weeping, then I'd stop. But she's not. The expansion means it's gonna be dangerous to be a Shelby in London for a while."

"Yeah. Well, I'm not a Shelby anymore. And I'm not a Thorne now either. I'm free. I've got to get Karl home." She walked away. 

She left the 3 of us standing there. Polly turned to look at Tommy. 

"I told you to let me do it."

"It's alright. I'll have some men watch her house till the danger passes." We watched a man on a motorbike ride up to Arthur. 

He quickly whispered something to Arthur. Arthur waved Tommy over as he started walking toward us. Aunt Polly leaned over to me. 

"Till danger passes."

"That'll be the bloody day." She nodded as we walked towards the crowd. 

Tommy, Aunt Polly, a few of our men, and I went to the Garrison. Someone had blown it up. We walked underneath the chains to get a better look. A copper was already there waiting for us. "It happened at exactly 7:00 a.m. Nobody saw anything. Our patrols were not in the area. Mr. Shelby, you got any idea who might have done it? I'd say it was something to do with the gas." 

We both know that's not true. We knew exactly who did it and why. He handed money to the copper. "Just been fitted." Aunt Polly walked inside. "Madam, the structure hasn't been declared safe. Madam," he yelled after her. 

She bent over to pick something up off the ground. ​​"This is all over the place." She handed some to Tommy. It was green confetti. What the hell? Tommy nodded to the copper.

"You can go."

"Right." He walked away. 

We stood there looking at the building. "Who? Who did this to us," Aunt Polly asked. Tommy and I went to a pub to find the people who did this. "Whiskey, Irish. None for her." He flopped his hat down on the counter. The bartender poured him the drink. Tommy put the money on the counter only for it to be pushed back to him. 

"Heard there was a bit of a bang in your part of town."

"Gas and electric don't mix. Who would've thought they would, eh?"

"How's business otherwise, Mr. Shelby?"

"You know something? In these times of hunger and hardship, business is surprisingly good." He turned to lean against the counter. 

He took a swig of his drink. A little boy walked down the old wooden steps. His heavy footsteps echoed through the small building. "Which one is the Peaky Blinder devils?" Tommy downed his drink to follow after the little boy. I was right behind him. We followed the little boy through backyards and alleyways. 

We had no idea where he was taking us. We walked inside a warehouse with one pig hanging up on a metal hook. It was naked and gutted. 2 men grabbed us from behind. They stripped us of our hats, guns, and coats. They put bags over our heads before pulling us along. They sat us down on wooden chairs before taking the bags off. 

We were sitting in a tiny room. A man and a woman sat across from us. There was an old table separating us. There was barely any light in the room. The only light was from the spaces between the boarded-up windows. 

"Thomas and Anna Shelby."

"You blew up our pub."

"Anger defeats fear. Good."

"You blew up my pub." 

"Tommy has a reputation to uphold," she looked over at her partner.

Her partner looked Tommy up and down. He finally spoke. 

"A reputation for not being scared of anything."

"In all the world, violent men are the easiest to deal with," she seemed to almost laugh.

Tommy glanced at me then back to them. "So tell me, which brand of rebel are you...eh? I read somewhere that you Paddies started fighting amongst yourselves now. The king offers you a peace treaty and you start a war about it. That's funny, don't you think? A war about peace." It went silent as the 4 of us stared at each other. 

"So are you for the treaty or against the treaty? Forgive me, I get confused," he leaned back in his chair. Her partner slowly reached for the gun. He got up from his chair, dragging the gun on the table as he walked over to me. The lady crossed her arms over her chest.

"You are one decision away from your deaths, Mr. Shelby." 

"So stop fucking smiling," her partner snapped.

I cleared my throat as I shifted in my seat. "Your name is Irene O'Donnell. You have a son at the Cherry Wood Road School in Harborne. He has irons on his legs. His name is Sean. He comes last in every race...poor boy. Poor boy, race is important. If you know what I mean, Irene." The gun was cocked and held to the side of my head. 

It was cold on my temple. Her partner didn't seem too smart. "Oh, she speaks. There are other ways of carrying out this mission. Please allow me to put the bullet in the scum tinker's head." Irene watched as she waited for my reaction. She wasn't getting one out of me. 

She still stared at me. 

"No. They research their enemies. That's why they've been chosen."

"We are chosen," Tommy asked. 

I looked at her partner. "I'm chosen."

"Can the chosen one smoke," Tommy asked again. 

The gun was taken from my head. Tommy reached in his pocket for his cigarettes. 

"A vacancy has appeared and you are going to fill it."

"Chosen by whom?"

"An informed consensus."

"We have things to do. So perhaps you could tell the chosen ones what we've been chosen for."

"From now on, you shut your fucking Gypsy mouthes and listen to your instructions." We were ushered out of the room. 

Our jackets and guns were hanging on the hooks next to the naked pig. We didn't say anything to each other as we got dressed. "Fuck," Tommy yelled as he knocked over some boxes. I stood aside as I watched him. Why can't anything just be normal? He wiped his mouth with his hand before putting on his coat and hat. 

I went home as Tommy went to his office. I guess the look on my face told Aunt Polly that I didn't want to talk about what happened. She could hear it from Tommy. We had a family meeting soon anyway. We sat around waiting for Tommy to get here. Finn was pacing back and forth. "Sit down, Finn," Arthur snapped. 

Finn finally sat down next to me. John looked at Aunt Polly who was staring out of the window. 

"Where the bloody hell is Tommy?"

"He is on his way."

"Alright then, while we're waiting patiently...Whiskey. Left over from the explosion. Good stuff." He put a crate on top of the table. 

He started pouring us all glasses. After the day I've had, I wasn't going to say no. John cleared his throat. 

"Right, before Tommy gets here, I think there are a few things we need to get straight between the rest of us."

"You think?"

"Yes, Anna. I want to know...when did we take a vote on this expansion south?" He waited for an answer. 

Aunt Polly turned around, walking closer to the table. 

"You have anything to say, you wait for Thomas."

"Polly's fucking right," Arthur agreed. 

"I see all the books. Legal and off-track. So stuff you don't see-"

"I see the books too, John-"

"And in the past year, the Shelby Company Limited has been making 150 pounds a day. Right? A fucking day! Sometimes more. So what I wanna know is why are we changing things? Polly, look what's happened already. Haven't even set foot in London yet, they've already blown up our fucking pub."

"Who said anything about Cockneys," Arthur asked. 

"Who else," Esme asked. 

"Do you know who did it," I asked as I turned to look at her. 

"No, she doesn't know who did it," John interjected. 

"I'm told only family is allowed to speak." She looked back down at her book. 

Tommy walked into the room. No one saw him until he spoke. "Everyone is allowed to speak. On your feet, Esme. Let's hear what you have to say." John cleared his throat. He stood up a little straighter as he planted his feet firmly on the ground. 

"I speak for your household. So could-"

"John, this company is a modern enterprise and believes in equal rights for women. On your feet, Esme." Esme looked at John as she put her book aside. 

She slowly stood up. 

"I'm not a blood member of this family. But perhaps indeed because I'm not a member, I could see things in a different light. So I'll get to my point."

"That would be nice."

"Aunt Pol," I whispered as I gently nudged her. 

She shrugged as she lit her cigarette. "As my husband said, Shelby Company Limited has become very successful. But London...I have kin and Shepherd's Bush and Portobello. It's more like wars between armies down there. And the coppers fight side-by-side with them. And there are foreigners of every description. And the use of bombs is the least of it. I have a child. Blessed with the Shelby family's good looks. I want John to see him grow up. I want us to someday live somewhere with fresh air and trees. And keep chickens or something. But London is just smoke and trouble, Thomas. That's all I have to say," She sat back down. 

Arthur stared straight ahead. "That was a lot of words. A lot of words. Wash them down with a nice drink." He handed Tommy a glass of Whiskey. "Thank you, Esme." Tommy finished his drink. 

He lit his cigarette. 

"Firstly the bag in the pub had nothing to do with London, understood? The bang is something I'm dealing with on me own. Secondly, we have nothing to fear from the proposed business expansion as long as we stick together. After the first few weeks, nine-tenths of what we do in London will be legal. The other tenth is in good hands. Isn't that right, Arthur?"

"That's right."

"Some of you in this room have expressed your reservations. Fair enough. Any of you who want no part in the future of this company, walk out the door. Right now. Go raise your chickens. For those of you with ambition, the expansion process starts tomorrow." Tommy walked out of the room. 

The next morning, I was invited to go on a holiday with the boys. Arthur and I waited outside of John's house for Tommy to get the car and for John to come outside. I called up to his window. 

"Tommy's here."

"Alright, hold on." Tommy got out and stood next to the car. 

"John," Tommy yelled this time. "I'm coming!" John's voice sounded louder this time. 

Arthur took a swig out of the bottle he was holding. Tommy looked over wondering what it was. "Seven o'clock, twelve, ten if I'm still sober. I got it from the doctor." He handed it to Tommy. "It keeps me nice and calm." Tommy smelled the brown liquid. 

He pointed it at Arthur.

"Same thing they gave us in the trenches, stop us fucking wanking."

"Polly said it's good for me temper. It slows me down. "

"Arthur, there are some things Polly doesn't understand." Tommy turned the bottle over to pour it out. 

"Tommy," I shouted. 

He shook the bottle to get the remaining drops out. "I need you fast, not slow." He tossed the bottle to the side. John finally came out of the house.  "She wouldn't let go of me fucking leg."

"I bet that's not all she wouldn't let go of," Arthur laughed. 

"You know she's against this, Tom. She's got opinions."

"Nothing wrong with opinions, John."

"Get in the fucking car."

"Shut up!" We all climbed in. 

I sat in the back with John as Arthur climbed in front. "Peaky Blinders are going on fucking holiday," Arthur shouted as he stood up. "Sit down, you mad bastard." John pulled him back into the leather seat. We drove until we hit the field. The boys got out to take a pee break. I got out of the car to stretch my legs. 

They were making jokes about raising chickens and living in the countryside. As we walked back to the car, Tommy ripped up a tarp from the very back seat. There was a body in the back.

"Who the hell is that?"

"It's Irish business. I thought it'd be best to deal with it meself."

"I was sitting that close to a random dead guy? I'm not helping." I hopped into the front of the car as they buried him. 

We finished our trip to London by night. We walked into a crowded club. It was full of drunks and druggies. The music hurt my ears. The people dancing around us were giving me a headache. John seemed to like the atmosphere. I did not. 

We found a table in the middle of the room to sit at. They brought out a bottle of booze. "Isn't this Sabini's club," I yelled over the music. Tommy nodded as the waiter put the bottle down. 

"Jesus Christ. Everybody in here is a fucking face."

"Just the lieutenants, John. No sign of the officers." 

"Let's line 'em up," John smirked as he lined up the glasses. 

He started to pour us all a drink. A different waiter walked over to our table. 

"There has been a mistake. I'm afraid you are going to have to leave."

"We just bought a fucking bottle," John shouted.

"A couple of the men know you from the tracks in the north."

"We get that a lot."

"They say you have no business coming south of the line without prior agreement."

"What line would that be, my friend?"

"They say, this is provocation."

"Right, well, you tell them we're on holiday," I smirked as I held up my drink.

I took a drink as did Tommy. "You're breaking the rules. They say you are the Peaky Blinders." A glass was thrown at our table. It shattered everywhere. "Peaky scum," someone shouted. Tommy immediately turned to that person. 

A giant fight broke out. We fought until a gun went off. The waiter was pointing a gun at us. "Get out," was all he said. We had no choice but to make our way outside. "We came here not to make enemies but to make new friends. Those of you who are last will be first. You know where to find us," Tommy announced on our way out. We took the bottle of booze with us. 

We walked back to the car. Arthur reached into his mouth. 

"I think I lost a fucking tooth. At this rate, I won't have any. Some fucking holiday this is."

"Yeah. You lost without your fucking medicine now, Arthur?"

"Here, this'll fix you."

"Give me that." He took the bottle of Whiskey from Tommy. 

Tommy pointed to John as we walked along. 

"You John-boy, eh? How are you? Or should I ask your fucking wife?"

"Give over!"

"No more talk of chicken, you hear me?"

"Fuck the chickens," Arthur slurred as John broke out into a fit of laughter.

Tommy walked a little further ahead of us. "Got 50 quid in my pocket. Let's go paint the town, eh?" That's exactly what we did. We didn't get back home until late morning. We were all exhausted and drunk. It was a miracle that we made it home in one piece. It was the most fun any of us had in a while. 

I sat with Tommy in his office late at night. He sighed as he looked up from his paperwork. 

"Polly is pissed at me."

"Why's that?"

"I poured out Arthur's medicine and this came in an hour ago." He handed me a slip of paper. 

'Let's break bread.' It didn't have a name but it came from Camden Town. I sighed as I put the paper down. "Do we go see Alfie?" He shrugged as he took a drag of his cigarette. After he finished his drink, we made our way out to the garage. We didn't feel like walking home in the rain tonight. 

I flinched at the sudden cold raindrops. Luckily, we didn't have to walk far. I sighed in relief when we made it under. I put my hand on the cold door handle. The back door creaked open. A man with a gun pointed at me stepped out. I held up my hands as I backed up. 

Another man came out, then another. We tried everything to keep them off of us. They just kept coming. Tommy and I were both on the ground in seconds. They were punching and hitting us as if we were trash. I had no idea how many men there were now. I didn't even care at this point. 

I knew one or both of us were going to die. I was drifting in and out of consciousness as I lay on the wet ground. They were still working on Tommy. I wished I was unconscious. I was surprised I already wasn't. The pain was too much. "Get her over here," one of them screamed. 

They pulled me away from Tommy as I screamed. I couldn't move. Fire ripped through my body every time I did. I couldn't fight them anymore. I got a glimpse of Tommy. It was almost too dark in the garage to see. He was lifelessly laying there.

I was barely above the surface as they pulled me up. The last thing I felt before everything went dark were hands on the buttons of my pants. 

[museqmeg]

Reporter’s Notes - Chapter Six: Earrings

___________________________________________________________________

A vashmeryl fic

Author’s Note:

Another little fanart inspiration by @aleikats . I thought this concept was so cute!

___________________________________________________________________

Dinner was a jovial affair. With everyone freshened up, bellies full of warm food, and with the promise of sleeping in a bed, spirits were high. There were also spirits being passed around the table.

Roberto had made the decision as the senior (in appearance) member of the group to purchase a bottle of whiskey. He came back from the bar with the bottle and four glasses before slamming them on their table, glass clinking. “Drinks on me! We deserve to relax a little before God knows what gets sucked into our Typhoon.”

Vash gave a sheepish grin and nervous chuckle saying, “Yeah… sorry about that. I can’t seem to catch a break.”

“It doesn’t help, blondie, that you seem to have a death wish,” Wolfwood retorted, tapping the ashes of his cigarette into the ashtray on the table. “It's a good thing I’m here to do some damage control and clean up after you.”

Vash just looked at the Undertaker with his held sheepish grin.

Roberto was pouring out everyone’s shots when he said, “Before you get on my case, newbie, about ‘being on the job,’ this is outside of normal business hours. Plus, if we get the Stampede liquored up here enough, we’ll probably get some good information out of him for our article. Little personal trick of the trade,” Roberto winked at her.

Vash had the decency to look a little worried before nervously laughing it off.

Meryl huffed, “Fine… but don’t go too hard. The last thing I want to do is be chauffeuring a bunch of hungover crybabies tomorrow.”

“No promises, little lady,” Wolfwood said as he picked up his glass and raised it, “Here’s to the hope that we get to July with little to no incidents.”

“That’s a pretty tall order, given everything we’ve already been through,” said Roberto. He just shrugged saying, “Here’s hoping,” and tossed back his shot.

Vash just smiled at Meryl raising his glass, she raised hers too and watched as Wolfwood threw his back, then Vash, and Roberto was already pouring his next round. She tossed hers back and was met with that familiar burning sensation of the alcohol going down her throat. She tried to hide her cough, but Wolfwood seized the opportunity to tease her.

“Geez, shortie. Can you not handle a drink at all?” He poked her in the ribs.

“She was the ‘top of her class’ at November University, I doubt she’s had more than beer and some fruity drinks in her time,” chuckled Roberto. “She got rip-roaring drunk back at Jeneora Rock after only one ale.”

“I did not!” She shot back. “I was maybe a little buzzed.”

“Like hell you were, your speech was all slurred and you were wobbling in your chair like a toddler,” Roberto stated. “I even had Rosa ask if you were old enough to drink since it hit you so hard.”

Meryl just glowered at him. Angry because she knew he was a little right. She didn’t want to admit it, but her size made it difficult for her to tolerate even the most acceptable of alcoholic portions. She had drinks with friends and the occasional party while at university, but she never built a tolerance to the stuff.

Vash spoke up, “It’s okay, Meryl. I don’t hold my alcohol well either.”

“Seriously, needle-noggin? You’re the tallest one here. It’s gotta take quite a few drinks to get you good and tipsy, no?” Wolfwood smirked at him.

“Only about two or three.” Shrugged Vash. “I think I’m sensitive to the stuff… I get kind of silly.”

“Silly, how?” Asked Roberto. “Do we need to attach a leash to you?”

Vash raised his right hand to scratch the back of his head saying, “Probably not? The farthest I got was about a quarter ile from the town I was at. I got drunk enough to stupidly prove that I could break a thomas that was giving the innkeeper a hard time. I say I only got a quarter of an ile away because that’s where the bird dumped me… not one of my finest moments.” Vash chuckled at the memory.

Roberto took another shot saying, “We’re going to need a leash.” He looked around the inn.

Meryl was feeling pretty good after her first shot, inhibitions slipping when she blurted, “You should ask him about his earring!”

Vash shot her a look of betrayal as Wolfwood asked, “What’s this about his flashy jewelry?”

“He had his ear pierced on a dare, another drunk incident, and liked it so much he decided to keep it.” She giggled at the memory of him flicking it in the sunlight at her when he told her the story. “He really likes it.”

Vash winced and took another shot. “Alright Meryl, your turn for another shot.” His grin was devious, as if daring her. She knew she shouldn’t take the bait, given her low alcohol tolerance, but she was feeling so good. Vash poured her glass and she quickly drank it down to prove she wasn’t going to back down.

“Easy newbie.” Roberto said. “I can’t find one leash, let alone two. Undertaker, you’re going to have to help me keep watch of these lost puppies if they get out of hand.”

“No promises, gramps. I kinda want to see what happens. And… maybe I wanna cut loose too.” He grinned devilishly.

“I’m regretting this already…” groaned Roberto.

“I know!” Meryl chirped. She shuffled off her chair, feeling extremely bold albeit wobbly, and walked around Roberto to Vash before plopping in his lap.

“M-Meryl!” Vash squeaked, his face full of surprise. She was still wobbling, so he held her in place, hands resting on her hips.

“Just hold still, I’ve got a leash.” She unclasped the hoop from his left ear and then removed her right earring. She clumsily put her earring through his pierced ear and fastened it before replacing her empty right ear with his hoop. He was watching her intently.

“There!” She said triumphantly, hands on his chest. “Now you can’t go far because I have your precious vanity hoop and you have half of my graduation gift. You better not run off with it!”

“That goes for you too, Meryl.” He countered as he repeated the same flicking gesture to his earring now on her ear as he did during their coffee “interview.” She glowered at his grin and hopped off his lap, returning to her chair.

————————————

The rest of the evening got as silly as Vash said it would be. They had a game of darts and despite the amount of alcohol consumed and Vash’s proclamation that he was a lightweight, he was deadly accurate and beat them all at the game.

Another bottle of whiskey was downed before Vash took notice of a piano in the corner and rushed over to play. In a very “concert pianist” manner, Vash stood over the piano bench and whooshed his coat over as if he had tuxedo tails before hammering out a bawdy tune. In Meryl’s inebrious state, she gaped at him in awe. He played better than most, even with the silly folk song he was pounding out. He seemed to be a magnet of joviality and it got the rest of the inn up and dancing.

Roberto took that as his cue to duck out, yelling over ruckus, “Old drunko’s going to bed! You kids behave!” He waved the half empty whiskey bottle over his head in ‘goodnight’ and went up the stairs, taking the bottle with him.

“What?!” Asked Vash over the crowd. He was still playing and someone had tied a scarf around his head, making his already spikey hair stand straight up.

“Gramps went to bed!” Wolfwood hollered back at him. He looked over at Meryl, doing her best to stay upright in her chair before proclaiming, “We’re dancing, little lady.”

“Wha-!“ was all Meryl could get out before Wolfwood scooped her up and into his arms. He started dancing and twirling her around, laughing loudly. He was holding her so high against him that her feet didn’t touch the ground. She was literally being swung around like a doll! Her head was spinning before, but this was too much. Between the heat of Wolfwood’s body, the strong odor of nicotine, and the spinning, Meryl started to feel her stomach roil. “You oaf! Put me down!”

Luckily, or maybe not so luckily, Vash took notice of her pale face and hollered to Wolfwood, “Hey! Bring Meryl over here! She can sing us a tune!”

Wolfwood swung and danced her over Vash. It was a miracle that she didn’t vomit on Wolfwood before he stopped and set her down.

“I’m gonna take a smoke break since you got shortie,” Wolfwood said to Vash before walking to a corner of the room and lighting a cigarette. He may not be actively participating, but he wasn’t going to miss Meryl’s performance.

Vash finished out the final phrase of the piece to give her time to get her bearings.

Everything was still spinning when she heard Vash ask, “So what song are you going to sing for us, Meryl?”

“I never agreed to that!” She said, swaying. She turned to glare down at him on the bench, but quickly realized he was eye level to her just sitting. ‘That’s right, he was a lanky giant.’ She mused, adjusting her gaze to meet his eyes.

He was grinning goofily at her before addressing the crowd, “What should we have the little lady sing?” Meryl glowered at him for using Wolfwood’s nickname for her. He never did that!

Shouts and suggestions came a-plenty before a title caught Vash’s ear and he started to plunk out the intro. “You know this one, right Meryl?”

“Yes,” she slurred, “but I didn’t agree to sing.”

“Aww come on, you’re gonna upset the audience,” he pouted.

“Yeah girly!”

“Sing us something pretty!”

“They’re clearly your audience and you just enjoy hamming it up!” She said looking disgruntled at him.

“Guilty!” He chirped, vamping four bars of the intro to give her time to join in. “Please?” He looked especially pathetic.

“Fine…” Her inhibitions were all but gone.

He grinned ecstatically as she began to sing. Meryl didn’t have a bad singing voice and she knew it. Growing up she was part of her school’s choir and even participated in her university choral ensemble. Sometimes she even got solos. She hated to admit it, but it was fun making music with Vash. He was a lively duet partner and he made it easy for her to answer back his phrasing. She was just getting into it when a loud “My turn! Woo!” came from Vash and he started singing loudly with her… completely off pitch.

His singing was all unpolished enthusiasm and raucous energy in his tenor range, completely at odds with his piano proficiency. Meryl stopped singing to gawk at him. He had not a care in the world and the effects of the alcohol were so apparent, his voice was cracking through the registers. Wolfwood guffawed loudly at Vash and Meryl gave a quick laugh at his performance before joining back in.

“Hey! Shut it blondie! We can’t hear the little lady!” Wolfwood hollered through his hands. Vash bashfully grinned and promptly stopped singing, focusing back on the piano.

They finished their duet. Their audience, clapping and cheering. Meryl smiled widely and went to take a bow… with a little too much enthusiasm. She all but fell forward before a forearm came around her waist and yanked her back.

“Whoa, Meryl!” Vash giggled. He got her upright, but didn’t release his arm around her. She still swayed against his arm and her eyes started to get droopy. Vash felt her unsteadiness and scooped her up under her knees with his prosthetic arm.

“Alright folks, that’s it for our star tonight!” He said, standing up from his bench with Meryl in his arms princess style. He nodded to Wolfwood who nodded back. A mutual understanding that their small traveling companion had reached her limit for the night and it was time to get her to bed.

—————————————————-

Vash carried her up to her room, Meryl half dazed and mumbling incoherent nonsense.

He looked down at her, “What was that, Meryl?

“You sing awful,” she slowly articulated. The four syllables taking everything she had to get out.

“Haha, I actually can sing, but I didn’t want to overshadow your performance.” He grinned down at her, pulling her blankets back and laying her down.

He was pulling her shoes off when she replied, “How very considerate of you.” Her eyes were getting heavier.

He just chuckled as he pulled the blankets over her.

“Hey Vash…”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget that you can’t run off. You have my earring…” She trailed off, sleep quickly overtaking her.

He smiled down warmly at her. He reached out with his right hand and stroked her hair, it was so soft. “As long as you don’t run off with mine,” he answered. He gave his hoop on her ear a little touch before straightening up.

He was shutting her door as he said, “Goodnight, Meryl.”

Her soft breathing was her only response. He just smiled to himself as the door latched.

—————————————————————————————————————

Well, that was a fun chapter to write. I got to use some of my professional music experience for some bits.

Their little duet was inspired by this hilarious video.

[birkinmilan]

Sweet Red - Chapter 1

The luxurious black limousine glided smoothly along the winding road, ascending towards the hilltop where Alfonzo's mansion stood as a symbol of his immense wealth. Inside, Maia sat across from the man who had suddenly become her guardian, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation. She had never imagined a life beyond her humble neighborhood in Houston, and now, this unexpected turn of events had her feeling both thrilled and overwhelmed.

Maia's delicate fingers traced the intricate pattern on the soft leather seat, her eyes darting around the opulent interior. "This is... incredible," she whispered, her voice filled with awe.

Alfonzo, a tall and imposing figure with a commanding presence, smiled warmly at her. His deep brown eyes held a hint of mischief. "You haven't seen anything yet, my dear Maia. Just wait until we arrive at the estate." His voice, rich and smooth like aged whiskey, sent a shiver down her spine.

"I can't believe this is happening," Maia said, her voice laced with disbelief. "I mean, I never knew my father had a friend like you, Sir... or should I call you 'Daddy' now?" She bit her lip, unsure of the appropriate address, her cheeks flushing at the thought of their intimate encounter in the gym bathroom.

Alfonzo leaned forward, resting his muscular forearms on his thighs. "You can call me whatever you feel comfortable with, Maia. I want you to know that I'm here to take care of you, to provide you with a life your father would have wanted for you." His voice softened, and for a moment, Maia saw a glimpse of the grief he carried for her father, his dear friend.

"But, Sir... I mean, Daddy..." Maia hesitated, her eyes widening as she gathered the courage to speak. "What about that day in the gym? I... I didn't know you then, and I..." Her voice trailed off, the memory of his touch, the sensation of his fingers on her skin, still fresh in her mind.

Alfonzo's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Ah, my curious little one. I couldn't resist your beauty, your innocence. And I must admit, I wanted to claim you, to show you the pleasures we could share." He leaned back, his broad shoulders relaxing against the plush seat. "But now, we have all the time in the world to explore that side of our relationship."

Maia's heart raced, her breath quickening at his words. She felt a surge of desire mixed with submission, an unfamiliar yet enticing sensation. "I... I want to please you, Daddy. I want to learn from you."

As the car approached the mansion's grand entrance, Alfonzo reached for Maia's hand, his touch firm and reassuring. "And you will, my sweet Maia. This is just the beginning of our journey together. A journey of power, family, and love." He paused, his eyes glinting with a possessive glint. "And yes, my dear, of dominance."

The limousine came to a gentle stop, and the chauffeur opened the door, allowing the afternoon sunlight to flood the interior. Maia stepped out, her eyes widening at the sight of the palatial mansion. It was a breathtaking estate, with grand columns, lush gardens, and a view that overlooked the city below.

"Welcome home, Maia," Alfonzo said, standing beside her. "This is where you belong now. This is where our story truly begins."

Maia turned to him, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of emotions. "I'm ready, Daddy. Teach me, show me everything. I trust you."

Alfonzo's laughter filled the air, a deep, hearty sound that made Maia's heart flutter. "Oh, my eager little one. We have so much to explore, and I promise, you will learn the true meaning of pleasure and submission."

As they walked towards the mansion, hand in hand, Maia felt a sense of belonging and anticipation. The sound of her heels clicking against the marble entrance echoed, signaling the start of her new life—a life of luxury, passion, and a unique father-daughter dynamic that would shape her destiny.

KINDA SHORT..

[shadesofmauve]

Usually when I give accessibility advice, either personally or for work, I couch it in nice qualifying words and leave a lot of room for the fact that people have widely differing experiences and what one person appreciates in, say, alt text, another one won't.

But don't leave your god damn two-line garbage zoom meeting URL in the visible text of your webpage and then tell me you're 'pretty sure' it's 'required for accessibility.' No one wants to read that. No one wants to listen to that. Do you? No! Because no one does!

(The best bit of this is that the person in question is going to take my disagreement up to the Head Reviewer for these pages. When she doesn't know the answer, the person she's most likely to ask is... me.)

[troublesomemix]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE !!

Repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. if you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own!

Tagged by: @uncontrolledhavoc

Tagging: @kizhavvorsa (dany), @lancasterabbey ( wanda and/or steve ), @rennisaturate (emica)

► NAME: reid abel caverly

► NICKNAME: reid

► AGE: 38

► SPECIES: human

► SEX: male

► NATIONALITY: born in the usa, jewish heritage

► INTERESTS: : exercising, working late nights for ‘business things’, playing piano, astrology, fresh baked breads, quiet spaces, modern architecture, numbers, the color black

► PROFESSION: financial broker mafia mobster boss

► BODY TYPE: fit, lean, lightly muscular but well built

► EYES: dark brown

► HAIR: dark brown

► SKIN: caucasian

► FACE: ben barnes

► POSTURE: standing with arms at sides or folded, any type of posture that commands attention. always stands at full height with squared shoulders

► HEIGHT: 6''1

► VOICE: lower baritone

► SIGNATURE OUTFIT: black. dress clothes, suits with an occasional pop of color in the pocket square. gothic. fingerless gloves

► SIGNIFICANT OTHER: multiple, (but with @uncontrolledhavoc its destiny <3)

► COMPANIONS: his siblings, especially aurelie ( eldest sister ), and desmond ( his right hand man for ages )

► STRENGTHS: charismatic, playing the long term game. cooking. board games.

► WEAKNESSES: attatchments. losing what he's worked hard to build or create.

► FRUITS: cherries, grapes, berries, apples

► DRINKS: water (he's huge about hydrating his body). equally in love with coffee and certain energy drinks.

► ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES: prefers classier drinks, like whiskey neat or whiskey on rocks. won't dare touch cheap wine.

► SMOKES: not at all

► DRUGS: never

► DRIVER'S LICENSE: yes. but as much as he likes to drive, he also really likes the status of being chauffeured around.

[midwestmade29]

CHAPTER 2 is here!!! 🥳

I’m on a roll guys! Let’s hope this momentum continues 🤞🏻 This chapter is written from Christian’s POV and has a *certain best friend* of his in it too! I’m excited to see where my brain takes this story, and I hope you are too. Enjoy! 🤩

If you are not 18+ years old, please KEEP SCROLLING. Do not interact with any parts/chapters of this story.

Due to the explicit nature, this story is NSFW or minors.

This chapter is written from the POV of Christian Cage and has dialogue between him and Adam Copeland. It features references to the female character of the story too.

Some topics/actions/theme(s) of this story may not be suitable and/or triggering for some readers. Foul language, alcohol consumption/use, drunkenness, arguments, self doubt, and self sabotage are a few examples.

Word count for Chapter 2: 1,365

CHRISTIAN’S POV

“What the fuck am I doing?” I asked myself as I still sat at the table. My head was swimming, and I wasn’t thinking straight. I just let the best damn thing in my life walk right out the door and didn’t even try to stop her. Instead, I asked her “what about dinner?” as if that even mattered anymore in that moment. Once again, I did what I do best; fuck things up. When our waiter walked up to the table, he spoke to me, but his words fell upon deaf ears. I was too much in my head to give a shit about what he had to say. “I have to go after her!” I announced. I threw enough cash on the table to cover what had been ordered and to give the waiter a decent tip and ran to the door as fast as my drunk legs would let me. I could feel the alcohol slosh around in my stomach with every step I took, causing a wave of queasiness to overtake me. The night air hit me like a ton of bricks and threatened to sober me up as I looked from side to side and all around for my beautiful girl. When she was nowhere to be found, I raked my fingers through my hair and ripped my phone out of my pocket to call her. “Come on baby, please pick up.” I repeated like a prayer. After 5 more calls and a handful of text messages, she still wouldn’t answer. I paced back in forth in front of the restaurant in the pouring rain, cursing under my breath and talking to myself, causing everyone who walked by to stare and look at me like I was crazy.

I had a chauffeur drive me from the airport to the restaurant earlier, so I didn’t have any transportation currently. I wasn’t even sure where I would go if I did anyway. Should I go home and own up to my mistake for the millionth time and see the hurt and sadness in my girl’s eyes? Maybe stumble my way to a random bar and continue to drink myself stupid? I got halfway down the sidewalk when a car started driving slowly along the curb, following me. I didn’t recognize it from the darkness of the night, so I ignored it and continued walking wherever my feet wanted to take me. The passenger’s side window rolled down a few inches, and someone began to speak but I couldn’t make anything out through the rain. Who knew what this creep wanted, and I really didn’t want to find out, so I picked up my pace. When the driver rolled the window the rest of the way down and yelled “Hey dumbass!” in my direction, I stopped in my tracks. “Get in the car, now!” I bent down and squinted my eyes to try and make out the driver, and a sense of relief and a surge of annoyance washed over me when I recognized them. “Adam?”

“Get in the car you idiot before I have to make you!” Adam threatened. I was still a little stunned that he was here, but I didn’t protest and slid myself into the passenger’s seat. “Damnit man, you’re soaked! You wreak of whiskey too. What the hell happened Christian?!” I dodged his question by asking some of my own. “What are you doing here? How did you know where I was?” My head was still foggy and a little slow to react, but Adam’s silence answered my questions for him. “She sent you, didn’t she?” I asked sheepishly. Adam nodded as he pulled the car away from the curb and into traffic. “Yeah, she did. She called about a half hour ago and told me that you were shitfaced and that you should still be at the restaurant. She didn’t want you to be on your own since she had to leave.” He explained. “Is that all she told you?” I replied. “And that she was worried about you and asked me if I would come get you. What happened, man? She sounded pretty upset.”

I groaned into my hands before trying to explain myself. Adam continued to drive us out of the downtown area while waiting for my response. “I fucked up.” Was all I offered him, earning a disgruntled look from Adam. “Well thanks Captain Obvious. I kinda pieced that together already.” He spoke sarcastically. “How did you fuck up?” “On the plane earlier, some of the guys were busting my balls and I guess I let it get to me. They mentioned the stuff that’s been plastered all over social media about me being “washed up” and “a burden to AEW.” Everyone has been relentless lately and it messes with my head.” My hands balled up into fists the more I carried on. “For the last 12 days it’s felt like it's been me against the world and I was sick of feeling like that, so on the plane I helped myself to the free drinks to drown the bullshit out, but one drink led to two and then three and I lost count of how many I had after stopping at the bar in the airport. I was 40 minutes late getting to the restaurant because of my stupidity, and things just continued to go downhill from there.”

“Dude, how long have you been in this business? You know how the journalists, and everyone can be. Why do you let it get to you like that? You didn’t mention any of this before I left to come home the other day.” Adam put the car in park inside his garage and opened his door to get out. “Why are we here?” I asked. “Because you need to sober up and I’ve been given the task to make sure you do. You also need to give that poor girl of yours some space and time to work through her own thoughts before trying to patch things up. You can stay in the guest bedroom, but so help me God if you hurl anywhere besides in the toilet, I’ll unleash Beth on you. There are some dry clothes on the bed and a couple ibuprofen and bottles of water waiting on you inside. We can continue this conversation once you change.” “Thanks, man.” Was all I could say without getting too emotional as we walked inside the house. If it wasn’t for my sweet, beautiful girl, my best friend, and his wife, who knows where I would’ve ended up tonight.

After getting myself changed and settled, I figured it was time to come out of the guest bedroom and pick up where Adam and I had left off. Beth and the girls were already in bed, so I was thankful they didn’t have to see me like this. I started feeling worse and worse the more I sobered up and I could already tell that the morning was going to be rough. I plopped myself down on the couch and Adam begrudgingly turned off the hockey game recap he was watching on tv. I was the first one to speak this time. “Being in this business for as long as we have doesn’t mean that it gets easier hearing such harsh and cruel criticism. You know I’ve been told my entire life and my entire career that I’m second best. That I’m a nobody and that I’m riding on the coattails of you and every other successful wrestler I’ve worked with. No one has ever seen me as a star in my own right and I carry that around with me every day. It’s exhausting.” “I get that man, but is sabotaging yourself and the great relationship you have with your girl the best way to deal with it? Will that prove them right or wrong? The assholes who say that shit about you don’t know anything. They only write that garbage for the tiny paycheck that comes from it. I know how good you are as a wrestler and as a man. I just wish you would see it too.”

…CHAPTER 3 WILL BE POSTED SOON! 🖤

[kotoneshiomiofficial]

what s.e.e.s./the shadow operatives are drinking at the company afterparty

[this is written with the assumption that everyone involved is 1. of age and 2. alive]

minato: designated driver. dont worry he is most certainly indulging in an edible when he's done playing chauffeur

kotone: into the sweeter side of cocktails, nothing too strong but willing to try different stuff. will start lecturing you about the intricacies of breakcore when she gets tipsy

yukari: unashamedly orders dessert drinks every time. if you tease her about it she'll make fun of you for wanting to drink things that taste bad

mitsuru: doesn't actually like cocktails, usually orders red wine. every now and then she tries one at the recommendation of kotone or akihiko

akihiko: into the old school prohibition era cocktails, orders stuff like old fashioneds and last words, not really into the sweet stuff

junpei: probably doing shots of something he really shouldnt. is currently throwing back peppermint schnapps for some reason

shinjiro: also doing shots but of actually decent liquor. teases mitsuru about not being able to drink whiskey. can drink the rest of them under the table

fuuka: big fan of coffee drinks but also likes the sweet ones. espresso martinis and white russians. surprisingly not a complete lightweight

ken: he'd be in college with the p5 seniors at this point (probably for civil engineering or something). would absolutely order a rusty nail to look mature or whatever and get knocked flat on his ass

aigis: can't drink for obvious reasons but very interested in mixology as an art

koromaru: can't drink also for obvious reasons.

[dari-ede]

In the Middle of the Night: Ch 23 (M)

Chapter 23: "자꾸 멀어져가" [jakku meoleojyeoga]

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

Summary: As Bangtan prepares for a new chapter in their lives, they head to their private property in the forest for a songwriting workshop. As a songwriter and producer they have worked with for years, I’m asked to tag along. I was ready for the heavy workload and small amount of sleep during the workshop week. However, I wasn’t ready for the storm that came that changed my friendship with Namjoon forever.

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut

Pairing: Idol!Namjoon x Female Reader

Rating: M (language, explicit sexual scene)

Status: COMPLETE

Trigger warnings: familial problems, sexual assault scene (once again, this will have a ***** at the beginning and end), mother-daughter issues, misunderstandings

Warning/spoilers: anal, fingering

********

NOTE: First and foremost, Happy Indigo Day!!!! Don’t forget to stream/listen/buy “Indigo”! 🥰💜💜💜

Second, I'm sorry to inform you that this will be the last weekly chapter I post this month. I've fallen behind on this story due to the crazy holidays (work tends to double around this time). There is a lot I have to work on and I would rather not rush as I have been lately. There are seven chapters left (they’re mostly finished but need heavy editing), so I want to ensure I take my time with them. Plus, I have another short story I’m working on that I want to take care of first (“Seven Times I Hated Kim Seokjin”). I think I’ll be able to release one more chapter of ITMOTN in December but I won't make any promises. I’m hoping to be back to posting weekly by the beginning of the new year.

On a positive note, this chapter is a long one. Enjoy!

_______________

-Early December- 

“You do have a beautiful home, Mai-Mai,” Hoseok said as he stared into the ocean.

Hoseok, Yoongi, Taehyung, and I were all sitting in the backyard of my home. They were done with their shows and had officially started their vacation. Jin, Jimin, and Jungkook had already flown back to Seoul, the rest were staying in the States for a little longer to enjoy some of their time off. Tae and Hobi were flying out first thing in the morning with their families for their vacation while Yoongi would be staying behind alone in California. Namjoon was also set to leave tomorrow with Hakun and Yongrae and another friend of ours. They were going to be visiting several museums in the States; the trip they had been planning for months.

I was putting on a brave face. Namjoon and I were going to be separated once again. Only this time, it was going to be for much longer. I wasn’t set to go back to Korea for another two months or so. Honestly, my heart ached at thinking about it. Even with the guys' busy schedules, Namjoon and I still managed to see each other almost every day since they'd been here. It was going to be difficult not seeing him as often.

“I bet this has a killer view in the morning,” Yoongi murmured as he took a sip of the whiskey he had brought out from my collection.

An idea popped into my head, pulling me away from the sadness I was feeling. “Why not just stay here?” I asked.

Yoongi turned to me, confused.

“I have plenty of room for you, Kiwoo, and Dal. Rather than stay in the hotel, why not here? There’s plenty of security at the gate. If you need a driver, call the company I use or call Ky. His schedule is flexible.” Kiwoo and Dal were the two staff members staying behind with Yoongi. If I was going to invite Yoongi to crash at my place, I needed to extend the invitation to them.

“Use Ky as my own personal chauffeur?” Yoongi asked, chuckling at the idea.

“Get him dinner and he’ll be happy to do it,” I suggested. Yoongi tended to eat at high-quality restaurants and Ky was always too cheap to go to those places. If Yoongi agreed to take him out to dinner, I knew Ky would be happy to drive Yoongi through all of California for that free meal.

Yoongi considered it for a moment. “It's not a bad idea. The guys won't be bored here either. I’ll talk to Kiwoo and Dal.”

I smiled, liking my brilliant idea. Yoongi's flight wasn't for a couple of weeks. It would be nice to have some company. Maybe I could introduce him to an old friend of mine. I didn't get involved in my friends' love lives unless they asked for my advice. Yoongi had never asked me to introduce him to someone or even hinted at wanting to find someone, but I did have this one friend who I genuinely believed would be a great match for him.

Suddenly, Namjoon's appearance pulled me out of my thinking. He had two beers in hand. While Yoongi and Hobi were drinking the whiskey, I was craving beer. Namjoon, being the sweetheart he was, offered to get some for us. Tae opted out of drinking, which wasn't a surprise to us.

Namjoon came to my side and handed me the ice-cold beer. As he took the seat next to me, he caressed my head gently.

The butterflies in my stomach flew in all sorts of directions.

“Such a gentleman, Namjoonie,” Taehyung said as he gave his brother applause.

Hobi mimicked Tae and clapped, laughing at our expressions.

I got a light blush. For some reason, I didn't get embarrassed by the kissing or full physical flirting, but when it was small or intimate touches, I turned into a tomato. Namjoon rolled his eyes at his brothers. He took a sip of his beer and draped his arm on the back of my chair, scooting closer to me.

“You’re seriously not going to join Namjoon on his travels?” Hoseok asked me, changing the subject.

“Yeah. There just isn’t time. I’ve got some meetings with an artist on their next album. Plus, this is a guy’s trip. Namjoon and they have been planning this for months, I don't want to intrude,” I said taking a sip from my beer.

Yoongi laughed next to me. “She doesn’t want to spend all that time in museums.”

Hobi chuckled at the accusation.

I didn’t answer and took another sip. He wasn’t wrong. While I wanted to spend as much time as I could with Namjoon, it also didn’t excite me to spend that many days and hours discussing art. I enjoyed my time at an art gallery and having Namjoon next to me explaining everything, but I feel I would be more in the way than anything else if I went. But I also mean it when I said I didn’t want to intrude on his trip with the boys, all of whom were art enthusiasts.

“She’s not saying anything, so you might be right,” Hobi teased.

I flipped him off.

Namjoon turned to me, his eyes giving a mock expression of hurt. “You don’t want to spend hours of your days walking through a gallery or on your butt in a car, trying to get to another destination?”

He was so close to me that the cluster of freckles around his eyes and nose became more prominent. I swear, they looked like a constellation of stars I could not name. “Depends. If I go with you will you go to a couple of off-Broadway shows in New York?”

Namjoon pulled away and resumed drinking his alcohol, refusing to answer me. I took that as a fat ‘no’.

“The sky looks very pretty,” Tae said as he looked out into the ocean. “I bet the sunset is quite the view.”

I nodded. “The colors against the water are almost breathtaking. And the shadows it makes with the trees give you goosebumps. It gets really beautiful. Like a movie.”

“We haven’t caught a sunset in this view, right?” Namjoon asked me, pulling my chair closer to his.

I nodded. We hadn’t. We had seen one once at the beach but not at my house.

We all turned to the sun as it got closer to disappearing. Everyone was quiet.

Someone cleared his throat. “You want to shoot some pool?” Hobi asked Yoongi.

Yoongi smiled at him and nodded. “Come on, Taehyung.”

“Come on, Tae,” Hobi echoed as he got out of his chair.

“Why?” Taehyung asked, pouting. “I want to see the sunset. Sounds romantic.”

“That’s why, dummy,” Yoongi muttered as he let out a chuckle.

Hoseok took ahold of Taehyung’s arm and pulled him out of his chair. It seemed Tae finally understood why the other two wanted to go inside when I heard him make an "Aaaaaah" sound. Yoongi and Hobi simply laughed at him.

“Well, they were subtle,” Namjoon said, getting up himself and picking up our beers with one hand.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“It’s ‘where are we going’,” he corrected and took my hand, dragging me out of my chair.

I followed him over to a couch that overlooked the water. Namjoon set down the bottles on the floor and then motioned with his hand for me to take a seat first. I sat down and moved the cushions so we could recline on them and still have a good view of the sunset. Once I was done, Namjoon climbed on, pulling me to his chest.

I snuggled close, draping my leg across his stomach and placing my head on a pillow next to his own. Normally, I would have opted to lay on his chest or neck, but I wanted to keep my eyes on his face. I had first-hand knowledge of how breathtaking his face looked at sunset. There was no way I was going to miss it.

As we lay there, waiting on the sun to come fully down, Namjoon’s fingers lightly stroked my back and his other hand wrapped warmly around the thigh that was on top of him. “You really can’t meet me in New York? Even for a day before I fly out?”

I let out a groan at his words. We had discussed this several times. At first, I thought I would be able to go to New York and spend a couple of days with him, but Ky had booked us some meetings with labels which looked promising. Plus, I had a project with another artist and needed to stay in LA.

“I wish I could, but I can’t,” I said, sounding and feeling crappy.

Namjoon squeezed me. “I know. I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. Just sucks.”

I nodded, holding him tighter.

He turned to me, his warm chocolate eyes landing on mine. I reached over and traced the dots around his nose and eyes lightly. “I’m gonna miss these the most.”

He snorted. “You’re the only one. I’ve never had a girl that paid them any mind. I’m not even a fan myself. Takes so much product to cover up since there’s so brown.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What’s so wrong with brown?” I asked jokingly.

He chuckled. “Nothing. On you, it’s beautiful,” he said, reaching for my lips and giving me a deep kiss. “But beauty standards placed upon me growing up made me have a strong dislike for them. Took me a while to simply accept them.”

My fingers continued to explore his face. “Do you like them now?”

Keeping his eyes fully on mine, he spoke. “I like that you like them.”

My heart felt like it would burst. Something lingered on my lips that wanted to desperately come out. I bit my lip, keeping myself contained. He was leaving tomorrow and we would be separated for close to two months. I needed to be rational here.

Suddenly, I noticed a change in the lighting. We both turned to the water at the same time.

The sky turned into different shades of purple and orange as the sun began to fall out of view.

Namjoon’s eyes stayed in nature, taking in the moment. “Beautiful,” he breathed out.

My eyes traced the shadows beginning to form on his face, making his features stronger. “Yeah,” I agreed.

How the fuck did I get so lucky?

**************

A few hours later, we were back at the hotel. Everyone, minus Yoongi, would be leaving first thing in the morning. It was easier if I stayed the night at the hotel than a car picking him up early from my place. As we arrived at their floor, Namjoon and my hands stayed linked.

Staff members greeted us and I noticed some of their eyes lingering on our hands. I had the instinct to pull back my hand and step away from Namjoon. However, I resisted the urge. It wasn’t getting easier being stared at, but I needed to learn how to tolerate it.

The only thing I had on me was my purse where I only had a few things. I felt slightly embarrassed and felt anxious in them knowing I would be staying over the night with no extra clothing.

Judging by Namjoon’s face, though, it didn’t seem the same worries were going through his head. Quite the opposite, he looked quite content as we held each other’s hands and got to his room. Once the door was open, he allowed me to go in first, a big smile on his face as he looked at me. Jesus. I don’t think I ever felt such conflicting emotions about his smile. On one hand, I never wanted him to stop looking at me that way, but on the other hand, I wanted him to stop. We were being watched, goddamn it.

After settling in his room, he put on some music. He needed a few things to pack and I decided to help. I looked around, searching everywhere to see if he had forgotten anything.

It didn’t take long for him to finish. However, he was having difficulties closing one of his suitcases.

He looked around the zipper, trying to figure out what was wrong.

I sat back, finding it endearing to see him struggle. Also, I knew how it sometimes irritated him when he was treated like a child. He liked to do things on his own.

After less than a minute, he figured out what was wrong. “Oh, you didn’t align this well, Namjoon,” he muttered to himself and fixed the problem.

I held back a laugh, not wanting to ruin the moment.

After closing it, he turned to me. “Finally.”

As he stared at me, I caught the glint in his eyes. I knew it all too well.

Biting his lip, he made his way to me. I was sitting on the bed, watching him. Once he got to me, he took a seat in the bed and then tugged at my arm.

I let out a laugh, understanding what he was trying to say. I moved my body on top of his, placing my thighs on either side of his legs.

Once I was sitting on his lap, his hands made their way up my back. “Hey,” he said to me, looking at me with heat in his eyes.

I came closer to him, not being able to control my smile. “Hey.”

We kissed for a moment, but nothing heated. A few touches and caresses. We were content just holding each other.

I wasn’t sure how long we stayed that way, but eventually, a knock at the door snapped us out of it.

“Coming,” Namjoon called out, placing his gentle hands on my hips and applying a little bit of pressure, signaling me to move.

I brought my leg up and moved off him. His hands remained on me as he stood up. His palms gave my lower back a soft rub before letting go as if needing to touch me for as long as possible before our bodies fully separated.

I was noticing this was happening more—the gentle and intimate touches. My body and heart thrilled at the growing emotions, but I couldn’t help but get worried that things were going too fast. Opposite to Namjoon’s thinking, I didn’t think three months was too long. How could our emotions be developing so quickly and intensely? Every touch and look now felt so incredibly intimate.

As Namjoon came to the door, a staff member announced he was there to collect Namjoon’s luggage. Namjoon brought out the suitcases he would be checking into the flight but was keeping his bag and small carry-on behind.

After closing the door when the staff left, I had a lingering question. “Um, do you have an extra shirt or sweater for me?”

He looked at me, confused. “Are you cold?”

I tilted my head, giving him a “are you for real” look. “You don’t like me bringing anything when I stay the night. I would hope you have something for me to wear, at least.”

The realization finally hit Namjoon. He let out an embarrassed chuckle and went to his carry-on. “I should have a couple of shirts. Hold on.”

After finding one, he placed it on the nightstand closest to the bathroom.

On my nights here, that was the side I tended to sleep on. His remembering that and considering me brought warmth.

Namjoon went back to his carry-on and tried closing it. Unfortunately, he was having a similar difficulty with it as he had with his other suitcase. He pushed down hard on it, making a sound.

I got a little worried, thinking he might have broken something. I looked over at it but didn’t see anything damaged. Still, I stayed where I was, ready to help if Namjoon asked me to.

“Namjoon, hands nice and steady,” he muttered to himself.

As brilliant as he was and as wonderful it was to witness his moments of intelligence on the topics of art and philosophy and music, I found it equally as beautiful watching the man struggle with trivial things such as packing. And hearing him talk to himself was the icing on the cupcake.

After a couple of minutes, he turned to me and stopped what he was doing. “What? What are you smiling at?”

Damn, I got caught. “Nothing.” I looked away and tried to busy myself using my phone.

“What?” he pushed, making his way to me, determined to know what I found amusing.

“Nothing,” I repeated, feeling a smile on my face. I looked away.

He knew I was lying. He took my phone and placed it n my nightstand, next to the shirt. Then, he poked my side gently. “Tell me. What was I doing? I know you’re making fun of me.”

He knew me too well, but I wasn’t going to admit it. “No.” I squirmed away from him.

“Liar. Why don’t you tell me?” He poked me again.

“Because if I say what you were doing, you’ll stop doing it.” I backed away from him as he reached for me again. “And you look so fucking cute doing it.”

He sent me a teasing glare and looked ready to pounce.

I climbed up the bed, keeping distance between us. “Don’t.” I could read his next move.

His Cheshire smile and dragon eyes looked almost predatory. He climbed onto the bed, slowly crawling towards me.

There was a thrilling feeling that shot through me. “Don’t!”

Suddenly, I was captured. Fiery lips were on me, soft hands touching me, strong arms pinning me down. And my pussy was fully wet.

It didn’t take him long to undress us both. Then, somehow—I don’t know how—he managed to put on some loud music and take us both over to the balcony door.

Memories of the time with the butt plug flooded back, making my pussy quiver in anticipation.

He turned me around roughly, making me face the city lights like he had that one night.

His hand moved across my stomach and moved down between my legs. His fingers slipped in between until he reached my bottom lips, rubbing my clit with his talented thumb.

I mewled under his touch. One of my hands clutched his arm while the other pressed against the glass in front of me.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he growled into my ear, pressing his body against mine. His cock against my lower back.

I pressed my ass to his balls. “Make me wetter,” I challenged.

I could feel his dark chuckle all the way to my dripping pussy. “How would you like me to get you wetter? Finger-fucking your pussy, or…” His fingers drifted lower, moving away from my cunt and to my asshole.

We had discussed having anal sex and I had told him I was ready whenever he was. He said he wanted to wait for a special night. Tonight was our last one for a while. It seemed a better night than any. Thinking of his long cock inside me there sent shivers everywhere.

“…finger-fucking your tight, little asshole?” he finished asking as he pressed the tip of his finger into my back ring.

A sound came out of me that sounded primal. “Put it in!” I bucked my hips against his hand, my body needing him.

His finger came back to my front juices and went back to my tight little hole. “I need to lubricate it first, girl. Can’t rush this. We have all night.”

He reached down the stand next to us and took the lube I had left there. He applied some onto his fingers. Then slowly, he pushed one finger in, making circles as he went in and out in slow motion. I heard his dark, unmerciful chuckle every time I let out my primal sound.

“Please!” I begged, minutes after his slow but beautiful work. I thrust my ass against his finger, needing more friction. Unfortunately, his other hand was firmly around my waist. It was keeping me from pushing him further in.

His other hand went back to my pussy, rubbing and driving me insane. Once he had more juice coated on his hand, he moved three of his fingers to the ring of my asshole. But stayed there and didn’t move.

“Please!” I was ready to move his hand away and do it myself.

“So impatient,” he said in a mocking tone. And then he finally pushed in, his middle finger was more than halfway sucked inside me.

“My god!” I pounded the door, feeling a combination of discomfort and pleasure.

His finger slowly moved out then moved back in.

My ass shook from the indulgence.

“Shit,” he let out as my walls tightened, his teeth grazing my neck as he picked up speed.

It was perfect friction. “Yes!” I let out, rocking into his hand, and feeling grateful that he wasn’t stopping me. He was now knuckle-deep; I could I his entire middle finger sucked in.

His lips came to my ear. “Ready for another one?” I felt the tip of his forefinger tease my back entrance.

I took a deep breath and nodded frantically. “Fuck, put three in me already.”

He made me feel wild and hungry. Like I could take anything he gave me. I backed roughly into the digit inside me to prove I could handle more of him.

Another dark chuckle filled the room and I heard him spit behind me. Some of the spit landed on my round ass. He took away his finger from inside me—I whined at him—and he coated his fingers with spit. His magical digits traveled back to my hole and went in.

I bit my lip as I tried to ignore the ache I felt, doing my best to focus on the desire it would be bringing me. His fingers moved in and out at a patient pace, allowing my body to get used to the intrusion. It didn’t take too long, my body eventually loved anything Namjoon did to it. Eventually, I was bucking into his hand and letting out grunts of pleasure. My walls squeezed all his fingers, welcoming them.

His lips left pecks and small bites along my back as he brought me pleasure. His other hand took hold of one of my heavy breasts and he played with my nipple.

My back arched into his body. I was on the edge of something fucking beautiful and I wanted him to fully engulf me.

However, he didn’t let me reach my orgasm. He pulled his fingers out and I let out a whine.

My pout was short-lived when I felt his thick and massive head at my back entrance.

“Still want to do this, baby?” he asked sweetly into my ear. His lips pecked and chin.

I nodded urgently. “Please.”

He got closer to me and took hold of my lips, giving me a soft kiss. “Stop me anytime, ok?”

Another nod.

Then, softly, I felt the head of his cock push through my back entrance.

Thank god Namjoon had the music on blast. Hopefully, it was drowning out my sounds.

I felt so fucking stretched. It stung a little. Biting my lip, I allowed my body to get used to the intruder. Thankfully, the displeasure was short-lived. Namjoon’s fingers hand made their way to my clit. He did his best to bring me full pleasure as he worked my ass.

My fingers went around his arm and my nails dug into his skin. He first moved at a snail’s pace. Once he felt my body loosen, he built some momentum.

After some time, his massive cock was finally halfway in, pumping in and out of me like a jackhammer. One hand came to my curly hair, wrapping his fingers around it and pulling my neck to the side so he could nip at my neck. His other hand was pressing onto my heat, stroking my clit to keep me in full ecstasy.

“You ready to cum soon?” His fingers sped up and his hips thrust hard into me.

I let out a loud wail, but his mouth swallowed me silently.

“We’re still in the hotel, baby,” he said once his lips pulled away from mine. “Can’t have anyone start knocking on that door.”

He was right. So many people were on this goddamn floor. And I would personally murder whoever would dare interrupt us.

His cock went further in. “You’re beautiful, baby,” he says almost in a prayer-like voice.

My body was shaking and close to nirvana. My heart swelled three times its size and words lingered behind my lips again. I felt something threatening to come out.

The two of us worked in unison, bringing each other to the cliff. I was working him just as much as he was working me. I enjoyed how we moved together. We went back and forth between gentle and rough and sometimes fell in between. Usually, towards the end, our primal instincts took over and gentleness almost flew out the window. Right now, we were nearing the edge.

“Come on, baby. Come on,” he growled into my ear. The sound of flesh against flesh is loud in the room. The liquids coming out of us added an exotic sound. He pumped his thickness into me with such power, such desire, and an unidentified emotion that almost felt foreign to me.

“Namjoon,” I sob out. My feelings were flying in every direction. I was about to lose it. I clutched onto his arm, needing him to ground me. But at the same time, I knew he was the reason I was close to shattering—close to losing all control.

“I’m here, baby,” he promised. “Cum for me.”

His body moved over mine, molding me. He fused both our bodies into one.

And it was at the realization that we were merging in more ways than one when he hit a special spot inside me. His fingers stroked my clit just right. And then I became untethered. Euphoria.

My walls squeezed him tight, never wanting him to leave. I came calling out his name.

And he was right at my heels, spilling inside me and breathing out my name.

It took moments for us to come down from our high. I was so exhausted.

He left me briefly, but only to collect a cloth so he could clean me.

We fell into a sleep, wrapped around each other.

That feeling in my chest was still there.

The words stayed behind my teeth, edging to escape.

Not now, I told them. It wasn’t time….

********

I heard my phone ring. Stupid me forgot to put it on silent mode. I hurried to turn it off before it could wake up Namjoon.

I intended to reject the call—no one sane would be calling me at this hour. However, at seeing the name on my screen, I jumped out of bed, grabbed Namjoon’s shirt on the nightstand, and locked myself in the restroom.

My mother never called at this time. She was always in bed early.

“Mamá?” I asked into the phone, worried and panicked.

“Did he rape you?” her voice sounded angry and irritated.

The question threw me off. It was not what I was expecting. Plus, I had woken up from two hours of sleep. “What?” I asked.

“Did he rape you?” she asked, her voice louder as she enunciated her words.

“What are you talking about?”

“I finally got to what happened two years ago with you. It took a lot of digging and threatening a lot of past interns and secretaries if they didn’t spill, but I got to the bottom of it." She was out of breath and angry. It was tough following her. "I know you met with Chad alone around the time your contract was getting close to expiring. I know he was supposed to be there with another executive but that other executive never made it to the meeting. You were supposed to be there with Ky but Yori went into early labor and he missed the meeting.” My mother was talking so fast, I could barely make out her words. However, I understood what she was saying; what she had discovered.

My mother didn’t think highly of herself academically speaking. She thought I didn’t think highly of her intelligence, but that was far from the truth. I had always been aware of my mother’s intelligence. She was clever and resourceful. She didn’t get to where she was now without having a brain like hers. I knew it was only a matter of time before she figured out who had been the executive who had assaulted me.

“Apparently, the female assistants in the company have stories of Chad being handsy with some of them. There have been some accusations that he has even raped a couple of them. The higher-ups, of course, have managed to cover it up, but that hasn’t stopped the women from sharing suspicion. Chad’s secretary at the time says you went into the meeting alone. She didn’t know about the rumors circulating Chad at the time since she was fairly new. She said you were fine when you went into the room, but less than an hour later, you came out looking disheveled. She thought you guys had finished having sex and coughed it up to you just being an easy lay. Your makeup was a mess. Your top was open. Your hair—”

****The top button popped off. His hand reached down. Took a grab. As if it was nothing. As if he had done this multiple times. As if it belonged to him.

He squeezed and I felt my skin crawl.

I wanted to reach over and push him off.

I wanted to get up. Run. Yell. Scream. Punch him.

I tried to remember the boxing moves my brothers and cousins and uncle had taught me.

But everything was blank.

I was glued onto the chair. I was frozen into place.

One of his hands was inside my bra and the other was on my hair.

Slobber stuck onto my cheeks and lips. It was like a frog was on me.

MOVE! I yelled internally at myself, but I didn’t listen. Why the fuck wasn’t I listening?!****

“Stop!” I screamed at my mother. I had already gone over these details in therapy. I had learned how to move past it. Or so I thought. Since coming back to LA, I was starting to question whether or not I had fully healed. The last session I had with Dr. Rob was over a year ago and I had thought I was better.

Maybe I had been wrong?

“What?” My mother’s voice pulled me back to the present.

“I don’t want to relive that,” I tell her, determined.

“I knew there was no way you would ever be caught in that kind of situation. But I had to make sure, so I called Chad. I painted out the same details to him and his reaction was all I needed to know what he did to you was not consensual.”

His words sent chills down my skin. “You talked to Chad?” The name came out of my lips and it tasted like vaseline.

“Well, what was I supposed to do?”

I felt an anger boil at my core. “Madre, I didn’t tell you so you could stick your nose where it didn’t belong. This is my issue. I’m the victim here, not you.”

“You’re my daughter—”

“Yes, I’m your daughter. So instead of thinking and acting on your emotions, think of fucking mine for a change.”

“Something has to be done about this. That asshole can’t get away with this. You have to report him.”

The thought of going to the police made me feel more uneasy. “Listen, this isn’t up for discussion. I’m hanging up.”

“We’re going to talk about it, Maya. I’ll come over to your house right now.” I was certain she meant it.

“I’m not at home, Madre. I’m over at a friend’s house.”

“I’ll be over next week, then,” she promised.

I let out a sigh and hung up on her before I fully came apart.

My hands were shaking and I was taking deep breaths to settle myself down.

How had I allowed my mother to bring me to this stage? It felt like it had just happened. Like I had just lived it. Shit, I should have never answered the phone. I should just block her from now on. Talking to her for too long makes me feel like a broken child. A weak, fragile, lost child.

I did my best to calm myself. It took a long time, but I refused to leave the bathroom until I was fully ok. I didn’t want this to ruin my last day with Namjoon. If he saw how upset I was, he would focus fully on me and wouldn’t get any sleep. And it was going to be a long trip for him. He needed to save his energy.

Finally, I came out of the restroom, feeling settled.

I found Namjoon sitting on the bed, fully awake, and his eyes on me. A look of concern was written on his face.

“Is everything ok?” he asked.

I nodded, climbing onto the bed and giving him a small smile. “Everything is ok. Just some small family drama. Nothing to worry about. Everyone’s healthy.”

His brows knitted together as he continued to look at me. “Are you sure? You don’t want to talk about it?”

“No, I just want to go to sleep,” I said, genuinely. I got under the covers.

“Do you want to talk about it in the morning, then?” he pressed.

“We have breakfast with the others in the morning. And then you have your flight pretty early,” I answered.

“So?” he sounded a little annoyed.

I tried to rationalize with him. “You need rest, Namjoon.”

He took a breath. “Ok. Will we discuss it tomorrow night then?”

“After a long day of travel and activities?” I asked, hinting I didn’t think it was a good idea.

“So, when do you think we’ll talk about it?” I quickly noted he was keeping his voice tightly controlled.

My heart quickened a bit, nerves kicking in. I strongly disliked thinking of the future. “I don’t know,” I said, my voice sounding low.

“Next month? Two months from now?” He was pushing, his eyes now digging into mine.

A feeling of intimidation came over me and made me look away. I didn’t know how to answer him. The thought of sharing with him the memory of when I never felt weaker and more worthless was unimaginable. I never wanted him to know that story.

He looked more than annoyed. “When are we going to get past this? Things with us are not new,” he said with finality. His jaw jutted forward, his chest back. He’d never been this angry with me before. “We’ve been together for 100 days. And every time I want to go further, this is what I’m met with: a wall. Also, when I bring up our progress and what our next step should be, you say the same thing: ‘It’s new. Let’s take it slow.’ How much slower are we going to take it?”

I sat there, not sure what to say that wouldn’t get him angrier at me.

“I mean, you can’t even tell the truth to your family about me,” he said.

This threw me off. Weren’t we passed the Thanksgiving incident? “I genuinely meant to tell my brothers, Namjoon,” I said as calmly as I could. “I didn’t keep you a secret from them on purpose.”

“It’s not just your brothers. What about your parents?” he challenged. “Seems like you have no interest in telling them. I heard you talking to your mom.”

Blood drained from me. Fuck. What had he heard?

“You told her you were at a friend’s house. Not boyfriend, but a friend’s.”

I was slightly relieved by this. It meant the worse he heard had been my mislabeling of him to my mother rather than discussing my sexual assault. I tried to keep my voice calm as I tried to explain myself to him. “Not everyone has an amazing relationship with their parents like you do, Namjoon. Some parents are fucked up.”

“I know you don’t have a great relationship with her, but why lie to me about it? You’re still holding back in telling me the whole truth about your relationship with your mom,” he rambled.

“What?” I asked, caught off guard. “I’ve told you everything there is to say about her. About both my parents. Do you want explicit details of the fights I heard? Of the violence I witnessed?”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. There’s something else—something more when it comes to your mother. You left Los Angeles for a reason—it wasn’t just because of your ex. Something happened and you don’t want to tell me. I heard you discussing Chad. You got upset at your mom for talking about him. Chad was one of the executives at your label, I remember. What’s going on with him?” he asked in a demanding tone.

He had said his name. And he was upset with me. My anxiety was not faring well as I felt my palms start getting clammy. My heart rate accelerated.

I decided to go with some honesty. “You’re my best friend, Namjoon. I tell you almost everything. I’ve told you about my issues with my mother.”

The melty, cocoa eyes that made me feel alive so many times were now digging into me and making me feel pathetically small. “You haven’t told me everything. You’re keeping things from me. Including the real reason why you left. I thought eventually you would open up to me. As a friend, I accepted you keeping that secret. But we’re not just friends anymore. I want more. I need more.”

I didn’t know how to respond.

Almost like a sudden switch flipped, his eyes lost all the hardness in them. “Why are you keeping it from me? Do you not trust me?” he asked with a voice of genuine hurt.

Guilt began to make its way through me. “Of course I do!”

“Then what is it? Why can’t you take that step with me—open up?” his voice was edging towards desperation. “Our feelings are past taking things slow. I know you know it. This is when things have to leap forward. There is no backward; there is no freezing time.”

I tried to control my breathing and shaking. After a moment, I said, “I feel if we don’t take it slow, then we’re bound to make a mistake.”

His eyes lost their softness. Their sharpness came back. His chest huffed forward as if my pulled by my words. “Boundto?”

I was puzzled at his reaction and didn’t quickly respond.

“As in, you know it’s not going to work out? You don’t have hope for us?” There was a mixture of hurt and anger in his voice.

I regretted my use of words. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then, what did you mean?” he demanded.

I took a breath, trying to think quickly of what I could say to make this better. “Every other relationship I’ve been on has ended badly. And I think it’s because I rush things. I can’t do that with you. I feel if we take things slow—if we take our time in getting completely serious, then we have a higher likelihood of being successful.”

His jaw clenched. He let out an exasperated breath as his dark eyes looked down at me with puzzlement and frustration. “You let me—” he stopped himself, looking as if he was inwardly reasoning with himself. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and turned away from me.

Something clawed at my heart seeing him like this. My words were driving him to such anger and I don’t know what it was that I had just said that made him look like he wanted to punch a wall.

“What?” I asked, my voice small but determined. As much as I feared to know the answer, I still wanted to know. When it came to Namjoon, I always wanted to know.

He didn’t speak, just kept his eyes away from me.

It felt like a knife was now pushing its way into the organ that kept the blood flowing through my veins. “What?” What had I done to cause him such disturbance?

He shook his head, taking some steps away from me. He walked towards the door. To get away from me.

My body jerked forward, acting on its own. “Don’t.”

I didn’t scream it out, but my voice wasn’t small either. It was said in a tone I had never made before. And it was enough to make him stop. His body instinctively turned back to mine, his eyes looking concerned at my tone.

“Don’t,” I repeated with the same voice.

He didn’t leave, but he didn’t walk back to me either. He was thinking—debating with himself. He was trying to figure out how to work through this. I did my best to wait patiently, despite how desperately I wanted to start groveling.

Please. Please. Please. Seeing his back towards me cracked something in me. If he left…I don't know what would become of me.

Finally, he took in a breath and looked straight at me. “Why are you with me, Maya?”

What kind of question was that? “What?”

“Why are you with me? Why do you want to be with me?”

Was he serious? “Because I like you.”

“But what is it about me that makes you want me as a boyfriend?” he challenged.

Did this have to do with his self-loathing? Is that what this was stemming from? Was Namjoon having an episode again—how had I missed it? “You’re kind and funny and smart,” I said in a rush, needing him to know that he was completely valuable. If he needed reassurance to crush his self-hatred, I would give it to him.

But Namjoon didn’t look moved. “Seokjin is all those things. Why not be with him?”

Honestly, it felt like I was experiencing whiplash. “What?”

“What makes me boyfriend material for you?”

“Namjoon, I don’t know where this is coming from—”

“Is it my friendship?”

“Yes.”

“You can have that with Hoseok. Do you like how you can relate to me musically?”

“Yes.”

“You can have that with Yoongi.”

“Namjoon, will you—”

“Are you with me only for sex?" His voice was full of hurt and pain. His eyes were wet and red with agony. "Because I’m a good lay?”

This left me at a loss for words.

It took a moment for him to speak again, still keeping full control of his tone. “What we just did is not something I’ve done many times. Certainly not with someone I’m just casually seeing. It’s a carnal act that I treasure. An act I don’t take lightly. I’ve had a couple of one-night stands, and they weren’t for me. I told you this. I’m no prude, but I don’t do certain things in the bedroom that are that intimate with just anyone. You’ve told me how open you are with past guys—whether it be one-night stands or serious relationships. You’ve given it up easily before, whatever. But I’m not that way. I can’t detach emotions from sex. And the fact that you don’t feel strongly for me and you did that with me…. I just don’t know how to feel about that.”

It felt like a knife was being injected into me. In so many words, he was telling me what he thought of me: I gave it up easily. I had let him take me up the ass without the emotion of love attached. I could think of the perfect word of what he thought I was….

“We started this wrong,” he said, further pushing the knife into me. “Sex should have come much later and I knew that. But like a fucking horndog, I gave in.”

I could throw up right now.

Tears began to make their way out of his eyes. “I can’t do this, Maya. I can’t be in a relationship where it’s just about sex. I want more. And I can’t even say we can go back to being friends because I can’t. I can’t and won’t go back to that. I respect myself too much.” He sniffed, his head low.

And he walked out.

The door closed with a soft click.

I was left alone with his words floating in the air.

He respected himself….

Himself.

He didn’t say he respected me.

A slut.

I could feel my anxiety tipping over the edge. I needed to get out of here quickly.

Stumbling out of the bed, I took off his shirt, putting on my spaghetti strap and bottoms. I had no idea where my second top had landed. I hurried to find my keys and got the hell out of there. I couldn’t find my shoes fast enough for my liking, so I left barefoot.

I looked like a whore who had just been fucked and used, walking down the halls barefoot and with only my skirt and spaghetti strap on. Tears had smeared all of my makeup. I looked like a goddamn wreck. My shoes and undergarments had been left behind. Security both gawked at me and looked away in shame.

The scene I was in was similar to two and a half years ago….

I felt nothing but humiliation. The sobs came fully down the moment the elevator doors closed.

__________________

Last note: Sorry that weekly posting is ending on this scene. I wish it had been a much happier one. 😖

Also, Happy Holidays, everyone. Be sure to look after your health during this time; be happy and merry. And if you have a mother like Maya or your family has similar toxic traits, do yourself a favor and cut them off. You deserve better. 🥰

___________

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30

MASTERLIST

[not-a-robot-i-swear-really]

Stygian Dawning: Chapter One

Chapter One: The Wolf

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Eddie Munson x Valera Savoy (OC)

Word Count: About 3200 words

Chapter Summary: Valera finds her target and a new wolf is born.

Chapter Warnings: Not beta read, mentions of alcohol, violence and blood, terrible Google translated Latin, Eddie gets his shit rocked and not in a funny way

Heavy thunderstorms had rolled into the town of Hawkins on a dark May night. The whole of the town had cooped themselves inside, heeding the forecast’s warning of blackouts, washed out roads, and flash flooding.

Valera had never been one to let a bit of rain stop her, so regardless of the storm, she went rolling into town in a jet black Cadillac. When she got out the car, she hid her crimson eyes behind a pair of dark sunglasses, and handed her chauffeur a hefty $500 tip.

She turned to survey the scenery; a seedy little bar with the words “The Hideout” displayed proudly above its doors in yellowing neon, with the letters “i” and “o” flickering. Under normal circumstances she would never even set foot in a dive bar like this. But she had tracked her target here, and she wouldn’t be deterred by an unpleasant neighborhood. She would simply have to put up with it for the night.

Quietly disgruntled, she glided through the doors with her head down.

As she set foot inside, she whispered a quiet spell to hide her presence: “Ego Gyges anuli vim invoco.” It wouldn’t make her invisible, but it would keep people from bothering her while she did her work.

She slid into a tiny booth on the other side of the bar hidden away from everything else. The bartender, his eyes glazed over with a unnatural cloudiness, came to sit a bottle of single-malt whiskey and shot glass at her table. Nobody noticed the bartender stopping to serve Valera, exactly as she intended. With her drink in her hand and a vantage point secured, she began her impromptu stakeout.

Her eyes swept across the dingy-yellow lit room; at the bar sat a trio of older men drunkenly complaining about the state of the world, in the corner across from her sat a young couple french kissing and whispering in sultry tones to each other, and on the tiny stage across from the bar stood a band consisting of four boys a bit too young to be drinking alcohol.

The kick drum read “CORRODED COFFIN” in thick, striking letters. They were halfway through a cover of a song by Metallica, “For Whom the Bell Tolls” if Valera was correct. The band was unprofessional, their style rife with all the mistakes of a group with only trial-and-error as their teacher. Valera had never particularly enjoyed metal but she could give credit where credit was due. They had talent and passion, every single member pouring their heart and souls into the performance.

The lead singer, a dark-haired lanky man with chunky silver rings adorning his fingers, played and sung with all the fervor of a piano maestro. He looked a bit older than the rest of his band, in the weird age where he was still a child in the eyes of many, but a man in the eyes of the law.

Valera turned her back to the rest of the bar. As interesting as the frontman was, he wasn’t the target. He smelled different; like a mixture of pine and bergamot. The man she was looking for had smelled more musky with a spicy undertone to it, much closer to the smell she associated with wolves.

This bar wasn’t just Valera’s stakeout, it was her lure, her bait. The full moon was over two weeks away. She knew she would have to get creative to find the wolf before he fled once more, so she’d had Tiberius whip up a little spell made to entice wolves like the one she was hunting. It would only be a matter of time before he showed.

Valera had more than enough time on her hands.

Time passed, the tiny hands on Valera’s wristwatch ticking away as she awaited the wolf’s arrival. Outside the rain’s assault eased as the moon rose higher into the sky. The band brought their set to a close, each member steadily peeling away to pack up their equipment. Only the frontman remained, chatting idly with the bartender; presumbly to get the band’s pay for the night.

As he turned to leave, the man’s doe brown gaze glided over the room, and landed right on Valera. A shock ran through her – it couldn’t have been a coincidence that the man had seen her. Her glamour was all but impenetrable to most beings, supernatural or not, but the guitarist didn’t smell any different than the average human. Maybe he had some supernatural ancestry, something was laying dormant in him? Or perhaps he was a seventh son of a seventh son? It was increasingly rare these days for humans to have so many children, but it wasn’t impossible.

Valera had no more time to deliberate his origins, because the very object of her pondering had strolled up to her table. He plopped himself in the seat across from her, roguish grin on his pink lips.

“So, I take it you enjoyed the music,” he said almost purring.

Valera only lifted an eyebrow in response.

“I mean you’re obviously not here for the alcohol, judging by the untouched shot glass you’ve got here.” He gestured to the bottle of whiskey by her hands.

“And clearly you’re not here for the company, because you’re sitting here all alone.”

“That may change in the near future,” Valera finally responded. She kept her senses open, watching the young man and the rest of the bar at the same time. A little conversation wouldn’t hurt her.

“And what, I’m not company?” He gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in faux-offense.

“You are, just not the one I’m looking for at the moment. And to answer your earlier question, I found your performance... Satisfactory.”

“Just satisfactory? Not amazing, not spectacular?”

“Just satisfactory. ‘Heavy Metal’ is not exactly my cup of tea.” Valera gestured to her attire with an ochre-skinned hand. While she was dressed in all blacks, it was more akin to wealthy aristocrats and Gothic Victorian maidens wandering around dark castles. Eccentric and stereotypical of a vampire, but Valera couldn’t help it if her tastes were aligned that way.

“Speaking of which, what’s a well-dressed lady like yourself doing in Hawkins? We’re not exactly the most interesting place on Earth.”

“That can be a blessing of sorts.” Valera mused. She knew more than anyone else that interesting things often equated to dangerous things.

The pale-skinned man snorted, “You must not get around often. This place is kind of a shithole. I’d take interesting over this any day.”

Valera pursed her lips as she circled the lip of her shot glass with her fingertips.

“What about your ‘company?’”

“Hmm?”

“The guy that you’re waiting for? He can’t be from here, ‘cause if he was, everyone here and the next town over would have heard about it. I know I wouldn’t be able to shut up about it.”

“Oh? And why is that?” She leaned her chin on her hand, long black fingernails tapping on her cheek.

The young man stuttered, his cheeks tinting pink under the dingy yellow lighting of the bar. “Oh, well- it’s just- you know...”

“Know what?”

“You’re, um, you’re really gonna make me say it?”

“Say what?” She leaned forward to stop only inches away from his face, her dark eyelashes fluttering behind her sunglasses.

At this, her impromptu companion was rendered speechless, dark eyes wide in incredulity and his entire face colored in red. Just before he could give a response, the door to the bar flew open as the bartender struggled with another man at the entrance.

“C’mon man, you know you can’t be here.” The bartender grunted as tried to push the man back out.

“Please-please, I just need to talk to her! Just for five minutes. Three, i swear!” The man, no younger than 25, tried to edge his way into the room. Valera narrowed her eyes as she watched the exchange.

There was only one other woman in the bar, and her companion was the only person who had seen through her spell so far, which meant-

“Don’t make this any harder than this has to be-“ The bartender fell to the ground with a deep thud, the other man finally having forced his way inside. At this, the room seemed to spring into chaos; the old men rushing to the bartender’s side, the couple slipping out of a side door, and her doe-eyed acquaintance frozen like a deer in headlights.

An energizing jolt ran through Valera’s body as the scent of blood flooded her nostrils. She forced the thought of it down though, focusing on the other scent wafting through the air: a feral musky odor, with a spicy undertone.

The wolf had arrived.

“As enlightening as the conversation has been,” Valera said as she gathered herself, “I’m afraid our little talk has come to an end. I’ve found who I’m looking for.”

She left before the boy could follow her – he was more concerned with the chaos unfolding before him.

Valera – and the wolf – followed the couple fleeing into the dark woods surrounding the bar. It was easy for her to find them, as despite her inexperience as a tracker, she could still smell leagues better than any human could.

“Stop,” she appeared before them in a flash of mist. A scream ripped from the girl’s throat as her boyfriend darted arm in front of her.

“Calm yourselves. I’m only here to help.”

The boyfriend growled, “Who are you? Where did you come from?! If you’re with Hayes back there, I swear to God-!”

“I’m not, I assure you. But you should leave before he finds you. What happens next will not be pretty.”

“What are you talking about?” the girl behind him asked in a trembling voice.

“I said, leave.” Valera’s smooth voice echoed with her power, and the young couple fell into a stupor. They brushed by her without protest, almost trudging away like zombies. Valera, in turn, whistled a short high tune, calling four crows to land before her. She handed each a scrap of fabric, taken from the couple’s clothes as they glanced by her. The crows flew off in different directions – now, if the wolf wanted to find the girl he would have no choice but to confront her.

And just she expected, the werewolf came tumbling into the clearing, wild-eyed and panting with a ferality only known to few.

“David Shaw.” She addressed with him with a dismayed drawl.

“You again,” the werewolf snarled. “I told you I don’t want your help. I don’t want anyone’s help!” Already his form was twisting, eyes glinting yellow, and claws pushing fingernails off his hands.

“Oh, we are far beyond helping you, Shaw.” As she spoke, Valera dropped her coat to the ground, revealing a simple and elegant sabre on her belt. “You’ve hurt people. You ruined your friends and family, left bodies in your destructive wake, and refused to get treatment for your condition all the while.”

“And let you lock me away in some dark dungeon? Poke and prod at me like some kind of lab rat? I don’t want your treatment.”

She brandished her sword at him, ignoring his interruption. “My only mission now is to bring you in, no matter the cost.”

With that, Shaw mind was subsumed by the beast within. He growled as his skin buckled and peeled, dark fur bursting forth to replace it. Feet lengthened and his shins shortened to form powerful hindlegs. He dropped to all-fours and bared his sharpened teeth in a roar as he rushed at Valera.

Valera met outstretched claws with solid parry; she ripped a gash in the werewolf’s thigh. Shaw yelped and snapped his jaws at her shoulders. He was met with only air, Valera’s body dematerializing into dark mist. The mist split and twisted in the air until she was behind Shaw with a heavy kick aimed at his head. Before it could land, the wolf whipped around to grab her ankle and throw her into a wide oak tree. She cried out as pain arced up her spine.

Valera was a frighteningly strong vampire when compared against humans, but against beings like lycanthropes she was greatly outmatched.

“Gladii vim invoco, Zulfiqar!” As she spoke, her sabre split into six copies floating around her body. With a flick of her wrist, each sword rushed at Shaw to impale. One by one each sword impaled his chest and broke into motes of light; all except the last one which Shaw just barely managed to dodge. With an haunting howl he darted forward to swipe his claws at her. Valera, unlike her opponent, darted to the side long before he could even reach her.

Dark misty wings burst from Valera’s back. With a single flap she carried herself into the air and knock Shaw back with a burst of wind.

“Virtutem Titanis Gaiae invoco!” Thick thorny vines burst from the forest floor and wrapped tightly around each limb to pin him to the ground. Shaw howled. pulling against his thorny restraints. But with Valera focusing so intently on him, he wouldn’t be able to get far. She summoned a silver collar dipped in a potion, made to force werewolves into their human forms.

She approached the struggling wolf, unclipping the collar to snap it around his neck. But then the sound of snapping branches rung out through the clearing. Valera whipped around; at the edge of the glade stood the guitarist from the bar, dark wet eyes glinting in the moonlight.

With Valera’s concentration broken, Shaw broke free of the vines to sink his jaws deep into her leg. She barely had time to let out a pained shriek before he slammed her into the ground. The vines whithered away as Shaw stood, slashing his claws down on Valera. With her leg already wounded, he attempt to dodge was foiled, his claws sinking deep into her side.

No blood was spilled, instead black liquid pouring from her wounds. Valera slammed her fist into the side of Shaw’s head just as he leaned forward to sink his jaws into her shoulder. He stumbled off her with a yelp, leaving Valera to scramble out of his grasp.

“You shouldn’t have followed me,” she called to him as she pulled herself to her feet. She summoned a dagger to her hand and flung it at Shaw’s outstretched hand, pinning him to a tree.

“What- what the fuck?!” he sputtered as he took in the scenery before him. Valera, bleeding black blood, and a beast, a horrific mixture between man and wolf.

“Leave.” She stressed, pushing her power into her gaze. There was no time for it to take effect though – Shaw pulled the knife from his hand and tackled Valera. He raised a hand to attack, but she refused to let him get another hit in, Valera’s body bursting into thick mist again. This time, she did not try to circle him; instead she flew backwards to put space between her and her opponent.

But much to Valera’s horror, Shaw didn’t try to pursue. Instead he turned and lept at the man. The werewolf was on top of him in seconds, faster then any human could hope to react. He brought his hands up to shield himself, but it did little to help. Shaw sunk his teeth deep into the man’s arm. He screamed as the werewolf ripped a chunk of flesh from his arms.

Valera dashed forward, using her wait to shove Shaw to the side.

She shouted another incantation, “Venite ad me, corvi mei!” Seemingly from nowhere, a cloud of darkly feathered birds swarmed around Shaw. With her foe distracted, Valera pulled the dark haired man to his feet.

“Let’s go, they won’t keep him busy for long.” She said as she pulled him with her. He didn’t respond, only murmuring curses beneath his breath as he clutched his bleeding arm to his chest.

Just as Valera said, the ravens only served as a distraction. Shaw was on the their tail in seconds, tearing through the underbrush like a bulldozer. Valera summoned her wings again to pull herself and the brunet into the sky. But before she could lift a few inches off the ground, Shaw gripped her leg and pulled her back down. She was quick to break the grapple, pulling up dirt to throw at his eyes.

Shaw howled in pain and let go of Valera immediately. He flailed, desperately trying to hit something. Unfortunately, the closest possible thing was the guitarist. His claws swiped across the young man’s chest, sending him sprawling to the ground with a shout. He was left with four deep gashes, and the werewolf soon added to his wounds by snapping his jaws around the man’s leg.

It was clear now that bringing Shaw in alive was simply impossible, not with him lashing out at both Valera and the other man at the same time.

She drew her sword once more, but this time brandishing a silver dagger in her off-hand. She darted between the werewolf and the dark-haired man. As the werewolf moved to slash at her, Valera brought her sword up to meet his claws. With Shaw’s hand occupied, she dug the knife deep into his abdomen. Shaw stumbled back and yelped, clutching at the newfound gash in his side. Wasting no time, Valera placed the heel of her boot onto his chest, and kicked him back with all of her strength. Shaw flew back onto the ground with a heavy thud.

“Virtutem Titanis Gaiae invoco!” She chanted again. When the thorny vines returned to do her bidding, she wasted no time in restraining every part of Shaw’s body that could move.

The vines tightened and tighented, thick briars driving deep into the werewolf’s body. Before he could do anything else, Valera rushed forward and stabbed the silver dagger right into Shaw’s forehead.

He could only let a gurgling whimper before he went limp.

The vines fell away as she released her control over them, and finally Valera was allowed a moment to breathe. She turned to the guitarist now curled up on the forest floor. She knelt next to him, holding his face between her fingers.

His eyes were wide open, but they were glassy and unfocused. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. Blood was still pouring from his wounds, the red coating his hand and indication of his attempts to stop the bleeding. He wouldn’t survive if Valera didn’t act fast.

“Invoco Hehu potentiam.” With that, the bleeding slowed to a halt as did his breathing. He was frozen perfectly in time until Valera saw fit to release him. He wouldn’t be healed, but at the very least, he would survive until she could get him help.

Valera sighed, crimson eyes drifting up to the sky to meet the moon. A silver crescent, just barely present, hung high in the sky. It would be a good two weeks before the full moon, but the symptoms of a werewolf transformation could show up as soon as tomorrow.

She looked back at the man, still frozen in time on the ground.

This mission did not go as planned, and someone else was paying the price for it.

In English: “I call upon the ring of Gyges.”

In English: “I invoke the power of the sword, Zulfiqar!”

In English: “I invoke the power of the Titaness Gaia!”

In English: “Come to me, my ravens!”

In English: "I invoke the power of Hehu."

A/N: Finally got this one finished! Felt like i was working on it forever, it's been a while since i've worked on a fight scene. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy it, don't forget to reblog and allat. Have a nice day ~❤

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[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

Love Everlasting.

A/N: I had a different name and plot for this fic over a year ago. But after being in the RP community for more than a year, I've decided to write the current Royal Life of my favorite OTP.

Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 13K words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

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This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

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TW: mentions of Abuse, Child Abuse, and Childhood Trauma! Reader Discretion is STRONGLY ADVISED!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations

Boys Of Summer PT. 2.

Meanwhile, it was a party in the Maldives. When Marquise touched down at the private resort airstrip he was immediately chauffeured to the resort to his private ocean-view villa. Far as his eyes could see it was nothing but sunlight and crystal-clear blue waters. After changing, Marquise walked out to his deck and took it all in. When he looked at the outdoor bar he noticed a bottle of rum, whiskey, tequila, and scotch all of them were top-shelf liquors with a card next to them. It was a note from his wife.

Let loose. Have fun. I love you.

He smiled before pouring himself a glass of rum. Just as he downed that drink there was a knock at the door. It was the boys. They all filed into Marquise’s villa.

“Now hold on! Why is your villa bigger than the rest of us?” Logan asked.

Marquise shrugged. 

“Perk of fucking the owner every night. You get the owner’s villa. Take a look around.” he replied. 

The boys explored until they found themselves with Marquise around the bar. After pouring them each a drink Marquise raised his glass in a toast.

“Here’s to the girls. This was their idea.”

The men toasted. 

“Where did you find this place?” Sam asked His Majesty.

“I didn't. It was given to my father way back when and it was used by the nobles back home until they just stopped coming. And it sat vacant for years. And when Shanelle found out about it she decided to turn it into all of this.” Marquise replied. 

“I knew I liked Butta. Girl be on her shit.” Eddie quipped.

Marquise snorted before finishing his drink. 

“I don’t know about you guys but I'm going swimming.” Marquise announced.  

“You going down to the beach?” Logan asked.

“Nope. Right here. Off the side.” Marquise replied before walking to the edge of the deck and diving off.

When he resurfaced he was feeling it.

“What are you dopes waiting on? Get in here!” Marquise called out to the boys. 

Marquise watched as the guys jumped off. The boys spent the next two hours horsing around, laughing, and cracking jokes. This is what Shanelle wanted. She wanted her husband and the guys to relax and have fun. To be like kids that were locked in a candy store. That night after an amazing dinner literally for a King, Marquise decided to FaceTime his wife. 

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey yourself handsome. How is it?” she asked.

“You are a fucking genius! This place is beyond my wildest dreams,” he replied.

“Yay! I'm so happy to hear that you are enjoying yourself. How are the boys liking it?” she asked.

“They love it. We're having an amazing time.”

“Good. Very good.”

“I miss you and my little ones though.”

“We miss you too. But it's been good to have the girls and the kiddos here.”

“What did you all do today?” he asked.

“We took the horses out and let the kids ride in the field behind the stables,” she replied.

“Did the boys finally learn that the horses don't giddy up?” he asked.

She snorted. 

“No, at least not yet. They did learn how to feed the horse though,” she replied.

“Good. As long as you two aren't by yourselves in the palace.”

“Even if the others weren't here with us, Khari and I would've still spent the weekend here.” 

“I know.”

Shanelle noticed the tan her husband has gotten.

“You've been out in the sun.”

“How can you tell?” he asked.

“Your tan. You've gotten darker. The sun looks good on you.” 

“Thank you, my love. I plan on being in the sun as much as possible.”

“Sunscreen. Don't forget!”

“I won't. Since I know it's late there, I'll let you go so you can get some sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you too baby. Sweet dreams.”

After blowing him a kiss, he ended the call and they both went to bed. The next day Shanelle woke up to giggles and the pitter-patter of little feet. 

“Good morning mommy!” Khari said as she climbed into her bed followed by Logi, Branden, and Brayden. “Morning TiTi!” 

“Morning babies! What are the four of you doing awake?” Shanelle asked.

“Auntie Bronwyn woke us up and we played for a little bit,” Khari replies. 

Shanelle watched as Brayden laid his head on her belly to listen for the babies. 

“Baby?” he asked.

“That's right angel. The babies are in my tummy.”

Branden put his hand on her tummy. 

“There?” he asked.

“Yes, baby. There. Although they might not be awake yet.”

“They're sleeping?” Logi asked.

“Yup. And you know how we wake them up?” Shanelle replied.

“How mommy?” Khari asked.

“Breakfast! Let's go get us some food!” Shanelle replied. 

Seeing the kids cheer made Shanelle’s heart leap. She walked with them to the dining room where the girls and the last two babies were. 

“Morning my beauties! Let's eat!” 

They had a smorgasbord of food to choose from complete with an egg station. After getting the kids squared away with their food, the girls got something to eat. When Shanelle sat down she had a plate full of food.

“Damn. What did you get?” Robin asked.

“A ham, swiss, and spinach omelet, French toast, three types of bacon, berries and cream parfait, Belgian waffles, breakfast potatoes, chocolate chip pancakes, and orange and cranberry scones. Why?” Shanelle replied. 

“You're gonna eat ALL of that Princess?” Nina asked.

Shanelle patted her belly.

“Table for three,” she replied. 

The girls laughed. 

“Mmmm! What kind of bread do they use to make the French toast?” Dee asked.

“Brioche,” Shanelle replied.

“Oh yeah, that's right! We have to remember that you’re a Queen now. So you’re into all the bougie bread.” Robin teases.

“And all the bougie butter. And all the bougie big ass breakfast buffets.” Shanelle quipped. 

Brayden tapped Shanelle on her leg.

“TiTi more?” he asked, holding up his plate. 

“Of course angel. Come on,” she replied.

“Are you sure?” Bronwyn asked.

“Yeah. You finish eating your food babe.” Shanelle replied.

Shanelle led Brayden to the buffet and got him what he wanted before taking him back to his seat. Before he sat down he told her thank you.

“Thank you TiTi,” he said before giving her a big hug and kiss. “Love you.”

Shanelle literally floated back to her seat.

“I am Brayden’s favorite Auntie. Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk! Have a good rest of your Saturday! God Bless!” 

The girls laughed. 

“Bronwyn, you better watch him. That's gonna be your heartbreaker.” 

Bronwyn snorted. 

“Just like his dad.”

“Worse!” Shanelle and Nina said in unison.

Meanwhile, in the Maldives, the boys were racing jet skis all up and down the beach. After a big breakfast of their own, the guys made it down to the marina where they were each given a jet ski.

“Wait! We get to keep these?” Eddie asked the attendant. 

“Yes sir. You each get a jet ski to keep. Each jet ski has your name on them.” the attendant replied.

“I love my big sister,” Logan said out loud.

Marquise snorted.

“I would hope so. She just gifted you a jet ski. So who's racing?” 

The boys hopped on and took off. Racing across the water enjoying themselves. This was what the girls wanted for their men. To be able to relax, have fun, and be themselves. They each work so hard and they needed time to just be guys. The boys split up after spending 3 hours on the water. Marquise and Dino took the time to visit the spa. The Deep Tissue Massage Marquise got was life-changing.

“Remind me to thank the Queen for this,” Dino said to Marquise as they walked back to his villa. 

“Noted,” Marquise replies.

When they got there the boys were there raiding the bar and smoking cigars.

“Why am I not surprised to see you boys here?” Marquise asked as he went behind the bar to pour him and Dino a drink.

“You got the best liquor and cigars. That's why.” Eddie replies. “Man these are smooth! Where you get this shit at?”

“Cuba,” Marquise replied. 

“¿Auténticos Cubanos?” Sam asked.

“Sí. Los he importado de una fábrica en las afueras de La Habana.”

Sam nodded appreciatively.

“Nice.”

“What the hell did y'all just say?” Eddie asked.

The men laughed. 

Meanwhile, the girls were setting up for painting the boys’ nursery. Well sort of. They had the kids change into bathing suits and swim trunks and had buckets of paint-filled balloons ready to go. 

“Alright, kiddos! When I say go, you throw.” Shanelle announces.

“Throw?” Branden asked before throwing his balloon at the wall.

“No, not yet baby. You have to wait until I say go.” 

“Go? Go!” Brayden said before throwing his balloon.

That's when Shanelle made a decision. 

“You know what? Have at it!” she said before getting out of dodge. 

She and the girls watched as the kids got to have fun throwing balloons and getting messy. It was a fun time had by all. And when all the balloons were splattered against the wall, the kids got to write their names. or at least they tried to.

The men were sitting around a poker table smoking cigars, drinking, and laughing. 

“I fold! You have been on a tear.” James said to Marquise.

Marquise snickered.

“Damn, just when I was having fun.”

“I'm not about to lose AJ’s college fund to you.”

“Now you know I would never allow my niece’s college fund to be depleted. Whatever you lost would've been replaced. You know me.”

James took a sip of his rum.

“This is true but still I'm good.”

“Very well,” Marquise said before turning to the rest of the guys, “who's up?”

That's when Eddie down his drink.

“Deal me in Lo.”

“You sure man? He's been unstoppable.” Logan said to Eddie.

“Ain't nobody scared of his ass,” Eddie replies.

A slow smirk bloomed on Marquise’s face. 

“Finally! A challenge! I was starting to get bored.”

“I’m about to rob yo ass,” Eddie said to Marquise.

“And I’m about to send you back to my sister in tears.”

Eddie scoffed. 

“Best 2 out of 3?” Marquise asked.

“Hell yeah!” Eddie replies.

“Deal the cards, Logan.” 

With liquor, cigars, food, and poker in hand, the boys spent the rest of the night enjoying one friendly competition after another.

And for the girls, it was movie night! Complete with chicken tenders, French fries, Chicken Caesar Salad wraps, applesauce for the babies, create your own hot fudge brownie sundaes, and 101 Dalmatians. The kids didn't even make it through the first 30 minutes before all of them were out like a light. 

After putting the kids to bed, the girls were gathered in Shanelle's room with wine in hand. They were discussing the latest chapter of The Forgotten Heir. Well, the girls were discussing it. Shanelle kept her mouth shut. Which was unusual for her. 

“Alright, Nelle you've been quiet. Way too quiet. What's wrong?” Robin asked.

“Nothing. I'm just sitting here listening.” Shanelle replies.

“That's just it, you don't listen. So what is it?” Nina asked. 

Shanelle took a big sip of her sparkling cider.

“Is it the book? Are you bothered by it?” Bronwyn asked.

“Bothered? Hardly. Annoyed that people are making a big deal out of nothing? Yes.” Shanelle replies.

“Now now Your Majesty. Be nice.” Dee said to Shanelle.

“I am being nice. I haven't called bullshit have I?” Shanelle asked.

“No. But you want to.” Nina replied.

Shanelle shrugged. 

“I feel for Myah,” Bronwyn said.

“That's because you’re little miss give everybody a chance,” Robin said to her. 

“I’m glad you feel for her because I don't.” Shanelle said.

“Why?” Bronwyn asked.

“Because your sister-in-law kept coming for my husband and she feels entitled to something that isn't hers to begin with that's why. I'm not about to feel bad for her or anyone that cares for her.” Shanelle replies.

“Okay. I get why you feel that way but you have to understand that she's hurt.” Dee said.

“Okay and?” Shanelle asked.

“Don't be like that Nelle,” Bronwyn replied.

“Don't be what? Fed up? The crown is more than just some fancy title. It is a job. One that is nonstop and never-ending.” Shanelle replied.

Shanelle sighed.

“Look, if she's angry, fine. I get it because Connie at the end of the day, was a cold-hearted, calloused, selfish, self-centered bastard. He didn't care about anyone but himself. But her anger at Connie should have nothing to do with my husband. She's not his responsibility. He owes her nothing. Connie did. And if Connie chose not to do right by her, then that's on him. The old man’s sins are not Marquise’s to pay. If she's gonna be mad at anyone, be mad at the two people who acted like they didn't know how a condom works.” 

“Ouch,” Dee said.

“Though her delivery needs major work, Nelle has a point. While it is heartbreaking that Connie chose his responsibility over Myah, you just can't expect Marquise to just hand over anything. Especially when he's got Khari and the twins to think about.” Robin said. 

“Finally someone gets it,” Shanelle said.

“I don’t know. If he didn't want her to have a title he wouldn't have granted her one.” Bronwyn quipped.

“He didn't want her to have it. Believe me.” a voice called out. It was Margo. “I apologize for butting in.”

“How do you know?” Nina asked Margo. 

Margo sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Because I have worked for The Royal Family for almost 40 years. A good 38 of those years have been spent serving The Family. I know all there is to know about Constantine.” Margo replied. “Constantine was a lot of things. A loving, caring, concerned father? Never. If he couldn't even do right by his sons, I can assure you, he would never do right by this girl.” 

“Then why grant her a title?” Nina asked.

“Let me ask this, why do you think he never married her mother?” Margo asked.

“Because there was a chance his enemies could come after her and her mother,” Bronwyn replied. 

Margo shook her head no.

“Only if she were the heir to the throne. Which she wasn't. Because the Monarchy would never recognize her.” 

“Why not?” Robin asked.

“Because he didn't marry her mother. Cordonian Law is crystal clear: the declaration he signed would only be valid if he married her mother. And Connie knew that. He was the King after all. But since he didn't, granting her a title is not an obligation for my son.” Margo replied. 

“So he signed it to do what?” Nina asked.

“Pacify if nothing else. You have to understand his thought process. If it wasn't selfish or self-serving Constantine did not care. That is who he was. A selfish, self-centered, cold-hearted, cruel, calloused bastard.” Margo replied. 

Shanelle poured Margo a glass of wine.

“Thank you, dear. Listen, what you girls read in that book is not who Connie was a father. Because if he was that concerned of a father, he wouldn't have left the raising of his two children to me and the rest of the staff. Not that I’m not grateful. Marquise was a wonderful child. Hard-headed and stubborn as an ox at times but no less loving and protective. Raising him and Leo was and is one of the joys of my life, but it should have been Constantine's responsibility. Not mine.”

“If you feel that way, why have you stayed all these years?” Dee asked.

“Because they needed someone to protect them from the madman he had become. The year and a half after Eleanor was killed was the worst of them all. To be fair every day that man breathed was terrible but those first 18-19 months were completely unbearable. And I was ready to resign. But my Prince begged me to stay. Besides, I couldn't leave two innocent children to face his wrath alone. I wasn't about to kidnap them either. That would've meant death for me and my family. So I promised Marquise that I would stay until he turned 18. And I have been here ever since.”

“You keep saying that Connie was a bad father but what exactly did he do?” Robin asked. 

Margo went quiet before clearing her throat and taking a sip of her wine.

“I'm not even sure I should tell this story because I swore to Marquise that I would take it to my grave.” Margo replies.

“What?” Bronwyn asked.

Margo looked at Shanelle.

“Marquise had just gotten his acceptance letter to Harvard, which was just about 5 months after his 16th birthday. Around that time, Connie would go into his study and drink himself into a stupor and then get belligerent as all hell. Well, one night my husband George and I were making our rounds as we did as the senior staff when we heard Connie’s raised voice coming from the King’s study. We knew it couldn't be good.” Margo replied.

“What was going on?” Robin asked.

“When we got there Connie was in Marquise’s face yelling and screaming at the top of his lungs. George and I were able to separate them. He took Constantine and I took Marquise with Connie still berating him, calling him everything but a child of God. George tried to get Connie to calm down and leave Marquise alone but that only angered him more. I had just gotten him to the doors when Constantine broke free of my husband and it happened.” Margo replied.

“When what happened?” Nina asked.

Margo closed her eyes while shaking her head.

“I watched Constantine ball up his fist and strike his own son.” Margo replied.

The girls went deathly silent. When Margo opened her eyes, she saw the look of shock and utter horror written on Shanelle's face. 

“Oh My God! Oh My God!” Shanelle whispered.

“The hit knocked Marquise back into the door and it stunned him. And that's not even the worst part, the worst part is Connie got ready to hit him again. But that second time my husband was able to catch his fist and pin him to his desk. That's when George told me to get Marquise out of that office. Imagine all 5’2 of me trying to drag a then 6’3 16-year-old out of his father’s office. When I finally got him back to his wing of the palace, he sat down on his bed with his head in his hands. And when he looked up at me, I saw all the rage, the shock, the heartbreak, and the pain in his eyes. When I sat down next to him, he laid his head in my lap and just cried. He kept asking ‘what did I do wrong?’ ‘Why does he hate me so much?’”

Margo paused to collect herself.

“I was able to get him to take a shower and get something to eat. But not before he told me…that wasn't the first time that Connie had hit him.”

The girls were in shock.

“I have a question.” Bronwyn finally spoke.

“Yes?” Margo asked.

“Why didn't you let Marquise go so he could bury that sonuvabitch?” Bronwyn asked.

“I couldn't,” Margo replies.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! What do you mean you couldn't?” Robin asked.

“She's right.” Shanelle finally spoke. Her voice was shaky. “She couldn't. Neither could George.”

“What?! Why not?!” Nina asked.

“Because had Marquise hit his father, Connie would've wasted no time having him arrested and thrown in a dungeon,” Shanelle replies.

“But Connie started it!” Dee piped up.

“That wouldn't matter. Because at that time Connie was the Monarch. And the Parliament and Monarchy’s job is simple. Protect the Monarch at all times. Especially from family. It was a rule established by the Monarchy back in the 1600s when then Queen Kendra’s brother plotted to kill her and take the throne for himself.” Shanelle said. 

Margo nodded while taking Shanelle’s trembling hands in her own. 

“Connie would've spun the story to make himself the victim of an assault by his unruly and ungrateful son who wanted to usurp him and take the throne from him. And with many in the Parliament being stuck so far up Constantine’s ass at the time, they wouldn't have hesitated.” Margo said. 

Shanelle closed her eyes to stop tears of anger from rolling. 

“My husband never would've stood a fighting chance. The Parliament would've convicted Marquise without question. And Connie would've sentenced him to death.”

Margo nodded sadly.

“And I would've had to watch my sweet, cocky, thickheaded, loving, caring, protective boy. My beautiful son…I would've had to watch him walk to the gallows. And that would've killed me.” 

“The gallows? Like Pirates Of The Caribbean?!” Bron asked.

“Yes. Cordonia still believes in criminals being hung by the neck until dead. Marquise hasn't implemented it but it is a punishment in the books.” Shanelle replied.

Shanelle took a deep breath. 

“I hate that man. I hate him so much. If I could I would've killed him myself if his cancer hadn't beaten me to it. Maxwell told me years ago that Connie used to take whatever he was feeling when he was drunk out on Marquise but I never thought it would be that bad.” Shanelle seethed.

Margo rubbed Shanelle's knuckles.

“I'm sorry if I upset you. That was never my intention. And please don't think Marquise was intentionally hiding this from you.”

Shanelle nodded. 

“I know he wasn't. I’m not mad. Well not at him or you. I am furious with Connie. Absolutely disgusted. But that's exactly who that good-for-nothing bastard was. As Margo said, he was cold-hearted, callous, and cruel.”

Margo looked at Shanelle softly.

“This is why I fight so hard for him. That night was the first and last time he ever allowed Connie to break him and his spirit. As soon as he was able to, Marquise left for Harvard. And was determined to stay in Boston. He even invited me and my family to live there with him.” 

“Why didn't you move to Boston with him?” Dee asked.

“Because Leo abdicated that's why. There was no need to leave. The new King was coming home.” Margo replied.

Shanelle squeezed Margo’s hands gently.

“Thank you, Margo,” Shanelle said to her lead attendant.

“Of course, Your Majesty. Again I didn't mean to upset you and I can only hope my son won't be too angry with me for telling you.” 

Shanelle gave her a small smile.

“If he does get mad, you have a 4-year-old trump card in your pocket.”

Margo chuckled.

“Indeed I do. Now if you will excuse me, I will go check on the children.”

“Thank you, Margo.”

Margo smiled.

“Of course my Queen.”

Once Margo left Shanelle let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in before looking at her girls.

“Do you believe me now?” 

Robin threw her arms around Shanelle. Bronwyn just shook her head. Nina and Dee just sat there trying to process everything.

“He used to…” Bronwyn trailed off.

“Hit his son? Yes. He did.” Shanelle said. 

“That's…he…” Dee said. 

“Yeah. So while Myah’s version of Connie is cute as all get out, it's historically inaccurate. You wanna know who Constantine Leonidas Rys really was? Ask the son he abused. Ask the staff he always terrorized. Ask the people he exiled. Hell, ask the families of the people he had killed. They will tell you all you need to know. He wasn't loving, or caring, or compassionate, or concerned. He deserved his cancer. He deserved the pain it caused him. He deserves to sit in hell and rot.”

Shanelle shook her head as she angrily swiped away a stray tear. 

“Just know. Marquise is loved and protected by us all the same way he loves and protects us. And he will never ever have to deal with that sperm donor ever again.” Robin declared. 

“I need you girls to do me a favor. Do not speak of this to anyone. Please.”

The girls all agreed and Shanelle nodded gratefully. 

The next night was the final night in the Maldives for the guys. After spending all day doing their own things, they met for one final drink and salute to their amazing weekend together. 

“Well, boys! This is it. Our final night in paradise. We have been spoiled by our beautiful wives. We've had a great time together and we will be doing this again.” Marquise said in toast, “Here's to the incomparable FabBabes!” 

The boys saluted before downing the last of their shots. The next morning just before the guys checked out, Shanelle had one more surprise. She gifted each of the guys iced-out chains, rings, watches, and earrings. 

“It's official! Butta loves her some of me!” Eddie said as he flicked his wrist. The diamonds in his watch caught the sun. 

“You will break your wrist doing that,” Marquise said to him.

“You see this watch? Nigga it's worth it!”

Marquise shook his head with a smirk. This whole weekend was more than he could've asked for. But now it was time to get back home. Back to his life. Back to his job as King. But he would definitely be linking up with the guys again. When he got back to the palace he was greeted by his daughter. 

“Daddy!” Khari called out as she ran into his outstretched waiting arms. “I missed you so much, Daddy!” 

“I missed you too, my love,” he said as he hugged his daughter. 

“And what about me?” Shanelle asked Marquise with an eyebrow raised.

“I always miss you, my Queen,” he replies with a sweet kiss to his wife. 

“Good answer Your Majesty.” 

Marquise spent the rest of the afternoon and evening with his two favorite girls and after putting his little one to bed, it was time for some one on one with the woman of his dreams. They were snuggled together. 

“I missed being in these big strong arms of yours,” Shanelle said to him.

“I missed having you in my arms,” he replies, “did you and Khari have fun this weekend?”

“Yes, we did. I can't wait for you to see the boys’ nursery. Those kids made a mess. Even the baby babies got in on the fun.”

Marquise groaned.

“Are you sure I don't need to hire professionals?” he asked.

“Yes. I wanted the kids to have fun, get creative, and be messy as all get out,” she replies. 

Marquise chuckles.

“Fair enough. So what did you and the girls do while I was gone?” he asked.

“The standard overindulgence, gossip, and giggles,” she replied.

“How much overindulgence, gossip, and giggles happened?” he asked.

“The girls talked about your little sister's new book,” she replied.

Marquise rolled his eyes.

“Blood makes you related. It doesn't make you a family.”

“This is true but she's still related to you.”

“No, she's related to him. She's his child out of wedlock. Not mine. We have nothing in common. I have one blood sibling. That's it.”

Shanelle shrugged. 

“Okay. I'll back off. But that's not all we talked about.”

“What else is there?” he asked.

Shanelle sat up in bed and cleared her throat before speaking.

“Margo came in mid-conversation and she…” Shanelle trailed off.

“And she what?” he asked as he sat up as well.

Shanelle turned her head while biting her bottom lip. Marquise gently grabbed her chin and turned her face so that she was looking at him.

“Tell me.”

“Promise me you won't be angry?” she asked in a soft voice.

“I promise now what is it? You’re starting to scare me,” he replies.

“Margo told us that Connie…he…” Shanelle struggled to say the words. Not that she needed to. Marquise already knew what she was going to say.

Marquise closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“She told you about?” he asked.

“The time he punched you in front of her and George? Yes,” she replied.

Marquise nodded slowly.

“Please don't be mad at her. She didn't tell us to betray your confidence or your trust. The girls wanted to know why Connie was so bad and that's when she told us.”

“I'm not mad at mom. Because truth be told, I should've told you years ago. I was just…”

“Still traumatized?” she asked.

“Something like that,” he replied.

Marquise let out a breath.

“She said you told her that wasn't the first time he hit you.”

“That's right. He had hit me before. That time was just the first time he’d done it in front of an audience.” 

Shanelle’s heart began to break. She'd never seen her husband like this. So vulnerable.

“If you don't mind telling me, when was the first time?” she asked.

Marquise set his jaw then inhaled and exhaled slowly before he spoke.

“I was 14. I had just won my latest chess match and I wanted to show him the trophy I'd gotten. I knocked on his door but I didn't hear anything. And I should've just left but instead, I opened the door. He was sitting at the desk drunk with a bottle in his hand. He looked at me with this rage in his eyes. He asked me why I was there and I told him. That's when he took a swig from his bottle and went off on me. I did everything I could think of to reassure and calm him down but I was a kid. And it didn't work anyway.” 

Marquise stopped and Shanelle wrapped her arms around him.

“He grabbed me by my collar and kept screaming for me to stop haunting him. That I should've died the day she did so he wouldn't be cursed to know she was never coming back. That's when he let me go and he backhanded me.”

Shanelle shuddered.

“George must've heard me fall because he came running in and when he saw me on the floor he asked what had happened. And in classic Constantine Rys form…” Marquise trailed off.

That's when he contorted his face into a scowl that mirrored Connie’s sneer.

“Calm down George! Everything is fine. This clumsy idiot tripped over his own feet. Isn't that right boy?”

Their bedroom was quiet for a few seconds before he continued. 

“George helped me up and walked me out of his office. And when we were far enough away, he asked me what really happened and I told him everything. That's when he brought me to mom and told her. And I begged them both not to say anything. Because at that time I was terrified he would retaliate. Either against me or worse them. So they agreed to keep quiet. She got me cleaned up and something to eat and then put me to bed.”

Shanelle’s heart broke for her husband and her blood boiled.

“I'm so sorry baby.”

Marquise shook his head.

“Don't be. Because I got my revenge in the end. I got his throne and his kingdom. I got to watch the devil incarnate die a slow, painful, and well-deserved death. And if that's who Myah wants to call her father, she can fucking have him.”

“Marquise you are a victim. He abused you.”

“I refuse to be one. I refuse to let him believe he could ever break me twice.”

Shanelle kissed his cheek just before he kissed the palm of her right hand.

“I need you to swear to me that you won't say anything about this. I'm not saying that I don't trust the girls but it's bad enough that they know. So you have to swear not to say anything to anyone else. Not even to Khari.”

“Marquise—” she started to say something before he cut her off, “swear to it Shanelle!”

Shanelle closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. 

“I swear to you that I won't say anything to anyone else.”

Marquise let out a breath.

“Thank you, my love. Now let's get some sleep. It's been a long day.”

Shanelle nodded before they laid back down with him holding her close with his left resting on her stomach. 

The next week it was business as usual for His Majesty. There was a kingdom to be run. He spent the week in and out of meetings with advisors and foreign dignitaries. And he got the news he’d been waiting on. Monterisso finally agreed to be acquired by Cordonia. Which was a major win for him. He could leverage Monterisso’s spy tech with his kingdom’s special ops corp. 

He couldn't wait to tell Shanelle the great news over lunch.

“Well done Your Majesty! This is quite an accomplishment for you and our kingdom.” Shanelle said to him.

“Thank you, my Queen. It took me negotiating tooth and nail but we are now a truly fortified kingdom.” 

“I'm proud of you. You didn't let the last few Monterissan holdouts deter you.”

“Thank you, beautiful.”

“So what happens now?” she asked.

“I have a trip to Monterisso in the coming weeks to tour the kingdom and take stock of everything,” he replies.

“You mean you plan to play with all the drone tech?” she asked.

“Stop raining on my parade!” he replies.

Shanelle snickered. Just then there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!” Marquise called out.

An attendant came in with a Manila envelope in their hands.

“Pardon the interruption Your Majesties, but I was told to deliver this to you, my King.” the attendant said.

Marquise nodded. 

“Set it down. Thank you.”

The attendant nodded before setting the envelope down and leaving the room.

“What's that?” Shanelle asked.

“I don’t know. Let's find out shall we?” Marquise replied before grabbing one of his letter openers.

He broke the seal and then pulled the documents out. After a quick scan, his features darkened. 

“What? What is it?” Shanelle asked. 

“This is the autopsy report I had done on Tariq’s body,” he replies.

Shanelle’s eyebrows shot up.

“What does it say?” she asked.

“Exactly what I feared. Tariq didn't die of acute organ failure. He was poisoned.” he replies.

“WHAT?!” Shanelle exclaimed.

“Naya killed her husband.” 

Shanelle’s jaw dropped. 

“So what happens now?” she asked.

Instead of responding, Marquise dialed a number on his office phone.

“My King?” a voice answers.

“Issue an arrest warrant for one Princess Naya Laurent of Duchy Arnaud,” Marquise replied.

“The charge?” the voice asked.

“Murder,” Marquise replied.

“At once Your Majesty.” 

The call ended. This was it. Marquise was about to issue his first-ever death warrant as King. Whether he wanted to or not was a different story.