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idwt-money · 4 months

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Love triangle pt.1

MDNI 18+

thank you to this beautiful anon for this idea, part 2 will be posted within the next couple days my lovelies <3 introducing noah next part!! super sorry its short! next part will be longer!

Series Description: reader is polyamorous and in a relationship with Nicholas, when Noah replaces the lead singer of the band, reader catches feelings!

1k words, Nicholas Ruffilo x fem!reader

CW: fingering (fem rec), virginity, unprotected sex

you met your boyfriend, Nicholas in your junior year of highschool. you two had been close friends after graduation. even though Nicholas had gone down a different path in life, being in a band with some of his closest friends, and you going to college as a business major, you both kept in touch.

it wasn't until mid-way of your first year in college that you realized you had feeling for Nicholas and you'd only hoped he felt the same.

although, you were hesitant about it. Nicholas knew you were polyamorous, but you weren't sure he would be open to the idea himself.

one day, you were sat in the garage Nicholas and his band were rehearsing in. after the band finished their, rather lengthy, rehearsal, Nicholas had sat down on the couch with you. it was later on in the evening so you all had a couple beers by the time the band finished up.

through slightly drunken words you and Nicholas had confessed your feelings for each other.

"i care about you so much, Nick. you mean so much to me." you had your head resting on his shoulder, his hand interwoven with yours, his thumb soothing over your own.

"you're my entire world, y/n. i'm not quite sure what i would without you, if i'm being honest." there was a small chuckle that left his lips.

you looked up at him, with small tears threatening their way out of your eyes.

"Nick, i really do want you. all of you. i just don't want to hurt you if-" you couldn't finished before Nicholas started to reassure you.

"my love bug, you aren't going to hurt me. you know that. i accept you and love you just how you are." his palm was now comforting your face, giving a reassuring caress.

neither of you had anymore words to share, there was no need. within seconds, your lips connected with Nicholas' and you were sat upon his lap.

he was so gentle with you. his hands softly gripping at your skin as if he was taking in every feeling, every little thing any other man would find insignificant.

embarrassingly enough to admit, this would be your first time. you were almost 20 and still had yet to lose your virginity. the thought of it was enough to make your head spin and your heart pound against your chest.

you broke away from the kiss, taking a deep breath in hopes it would calm your shaky and worked up nerves.

"are you okay, love bug?" his voice was ridden with concern, his eyebrows knitting together as he took in your shaken up state.

"um- yeah i just...it's like.." it was hard for you to admit. especially to Nicholas. he had a small moment in senior year where he was hooking up with girls left and right, you knew he was decently skilled in the topic, yet you knew nothing. well, nothing besides the copious amounts of porn you watched in an attempt to get off.

"you can tell me, don't worry. you don't need to feel embarrassed. we don't have to do this, we can go at your pace." his words did a number on you, helping you calm down enough to tell him what was wrong.

"no! i do want to, it's just going to be my first time.." you bit your lip as soon as the words left your mouth.

he raised his eyebrows. sure he had taken girls virginities before but you? you were different. you had a hold on his heart, he had never felt like this for someone else and although it was a scary feeling, he wouldn't have it any other way.

"i'll go slow with you. if you want to stop at any point, just tell me." his eyes were bearing his soul into yours, his facial expression was dripping in love and concern, a wild mix of the two.

you nodded and gave a small "okay" with a soft smile before going back in to finish what you had started.

in no time, it felt natural. it felt natural to give yourself to him in your most vulnerable form.

his hands were soft while touching you, making cautious moves lower and lower until his hand got the privilege of dipping into your waistband, feeling how absolutely drenched you had become because of him.

he gathered your wetness on his fingers, causing his fingers to slip into you easier. your breath hitched. what a foreign feeling it was, having someone else's fingers buried deep into your cunt. his fingers were by far much longer than yours and hit new places yours would have never reached.

you made eye contact with him as he slowly started to move his fingers in and out of you. you put your hands on his shoulders, helping to ground yourself. you let your eyes flutter close as Nicholas watched your blissed out state. as Nicholas' fingers worked their magic, you felt your stomach pull into knots.

"faster, please Nick, i need it faster." you whined and you let your hips grind down onto him.

"oh does my baby need it faster? hm? harder? need my fingers deep in your pussy?" his words were like warm honey entering your ears.

your nails sunk into his skin through his shirt. your stomach had become hot and bothered, your body creating its own tension as it prepared for what was about to come.

Nicholas attached his lips to your neck, suckling purple and red hickies onto it while speeding up his motions with his fingers. it was a gentle reminder that you were his.

"Nick...oh fuck i'm gunna cum, fuck im gunna cum!" your words were blurring together and your mind went blank as Nicholas talked you through your orgasm. his voice was soft as your mind spiraled in the feeling of your pleasure.

when you came down from your, undeniably heavenly, orgasm, your body collapsed into Nicholas. he gave you gentle forehead kisses as you two talked later on into the night after you both moved into his room.

you had made it official just a few days later.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #badomens #badomenscult #noahsebastian #nicholas ruffilo #jolly karlsson #nick folio #noah bad omens #jolly bad omens #nicholas bad omens #folio bad omens

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jacksonroseroth · 6 months

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~The Price~Chapter 1~

Patrons in The Drunken Wench were loud and rowdy as a fight broke out and the bouncers had to not only break up the fight, but call the cops once it got too out of hand for them to control. The red and blues flashed outside and the guilty parties tried to scatter, but they were all soon taken down and to jail for trying to incite a riot. Once everything calmed down and the bar was more or less back to how it was, one of the barmaids slipped around and began sweeping through the establishment, fixing chairs, cleaning up glass and clearing off tables.

Thatcher eased past the straggling bar fighters as the cops dragged them out, patting the bouncers on the back with a light smirk. He chuckled as he and his bodyguards shuffled in, then the men behind him dispersed to different corners of the room, while Thatcher went straight to the bar and slid onto a stool. He swept his gaze over the talent they had behind the bar for the night, noting one new face as she slipped back, tossing the broken glass in her dustpan and putting it, along with the broom, away before washing her hands and jumping back in line to take orders.

He kept an eye on her as she inched her way down, not giving any of the other barmaids any attention as they attempted to take his drink order. He watched her curls bounce around, long enough to just spill over her shoulders in a deep, rich chocolate brown color that glinted red when she walked under the lights. Her green eyes sparkled as she smiled at the patrons she mixed drinks for and her laugh floated down to him; Loud, light, and hearty.

As she approached him, wiping down the bar and quickly mixing drinks, Thatcher’s piercing green gaze poured into her as she finally slid in front of him and she lifted her head from wiping, flashing him a bright, sweet smile. Thatcher returned it as she said, “Hi. Welcome to The Drunken Wench. What can I get you?”

“Whiskey double. Shaken. Neat.” Thatcher said, watching her face as it remained neutral, but her sweet smile stuck. She gave a nod, then gestured to the wall behind her as she said, “Do you have a preference? We have Crowne, Jameson, or Rye?”

Thatcher nodded and briefly held up three fingers before he pulled out a gold plated, rectangular container, flipping it open to pull out a cigarette from a line. The woman arched a brow at him, then turned to grab a bottle of rye whiskey and glass. She turned back to set the glass on the bar, then poured about two shots worth into a metal cup, then scooped ice into it before she capped the cup and began to shake it. As Thatcher sparked up his lighter, watching her, he was impressed that she didn’t ask any extra questions about his order and got it right, to boot.

Taking a drag from his cigarette, he watched her take the cap off then slide a filter over the top before turning it upside down over the glass. She dunked both instruments into soapy water before setting them on a rubber mat to dry. As Thatcher reached for the glass, she slid back over as she asked, “Did you want to open a tab, sir?”

“No, just the double, darlin’. Thank you. Keep the change.” Thatcher said, producing a $100 bill from the inside breast pocket of his jacket and handing it to her, between two fingers. She blinked as she reached for it, freezing when the last part registered. His smirk lifted, slightly, and tilted his fingers toward her more for her to take it.

“Th-Thank you.” She said, stunned, taking the money. She stared at him for a moment, then cleared her throat as she turned away to put the ticket into the register and close him out. Thatcher took another drag then a sip of his whiskey, watching her as she broke the $100, taking 4 $20’s as change then pulled out a blue rubber bag, unzipping it. Thatcher saw the name ‘Taddie’ scrawled across it and she tucked a $20 into it, then pulled out three more, all with the names of the other barmaids on them, tucking the remaining $20’s into their bags, zipping them all and putting them back under the register when she was done. She took the remaining 5 of his change and stuffed it into the communal tip jar. Giving a nod, Thatcher downed half the glass of whiskey before taking another drag and sitting back as he cast a glance back to one of his bodyguards and giving him a nod. The man nodded back and zeroed in on the woman as he moved from his position in the corner, to the bar to grab her attention for a drink.

Thatcher wathed his man give her a polite smile and strike up a conversation with her as she made his drink. An excited, happy smile spread across her face as she happily responded to whatever it was he had said, pausing in the mixing of his drink as they locked in a quick, deep conversation, then she immediately picked up her pace again, finishing the drink and setting it on the bar for him. He handed her a card that she quickly ran, coming back with his card, the receipt and a pen for him to sign. They continued to talk as the man signed and handed the pen and receipt back, giving her a wide, flirtatious smile, to which she responded with a less than matching, polite smile, quickly moving on. Thatcher chuckled and nodded at his bodyguard as he went back to his spot, sipping on the drink.

The woman slowly made her way back down to Thatcher and he downed the rest of his drink, stamping out his cigarette in the ashtray beside him. She moved in front of him and spotted his empty glass, then reached for the bottle again as she said, “Another double for you?”

“I’m good, darlin’. Thank you.” Thatcher said, giving her a once over as her back was turned and he smirked to himself. She turned back and raised a brow, slightly, than nodded, giving him a sweet smile, moving on as she said, “Have a good night, sir.”

Thatcher smirked and pulled another $20 from his pocket, slipping it under his glass before he turned from the counter and slipped out of his chair, nodding at his men. They all abandoned their spots, converging at the front door, two walking out as their heads whipped around, while the other two stood by the door with the bouncers, waiting for Thatcher. They walked out and Taddie lifted her gaze from the drink she was mixing, watching the men file out. She shook her head with a soft sigh and pasted on a smile as she handed two drinks off, then began wiping down the bar where it was empty. She made her way back up to Thatcher’s empty seat and grabbed the glass, then stopped as she stared at the $20 he’d left as her tip.

Taddie picked it up and blinked, utterly confused. The man handed her a $100 bill for a $15 shot, telling her to keep the rest of the $85 as her tip, then left her another $20 tip on the same drink. Whether it was some weird, new flirting tactic she wasn’t aware of or the man was ridiculously rich and just wanted to throw it around, she wasn’t about to turn it down as she desperately needed the cash, which was the whole reason she took the bartending job in the first place. She would take the flirty, drunken men and the half ass passes they tried to make at her if it meant close to $300 nights in tips. Stuffing the bill into her bra, she dunked the glass into the disinfectant water, then set it on the rubber mat to dry.

As she went to the register to run a few cards, one of the other girls slunk up to her, gripping her arm with a wide eyed stare. Taddie glanced at her then snickered as she shook her head and said, “What’s the look for, Ash? Who’s the hottie you’re after now?”

“Not me-You, bitch! You have no idea who that even was you were serving, do you?” Ash asked, leaning one hand on the counter, planting the other on her hip. Taddie chuckled and gave a shrug, glancing up at the perky blonde as her blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

“No? Just some guy? Loaded, by the way he’s throwing around hundred’s like they’re ones…Why? Who is he? Some hotshot Wall Street banker or something?” Taddie asked as she closed out tabs and waited for receipts. Ash tsk’d at her and sighed, shaking her head as she said, “You’ve heard of the Price family? The Swedish Mafia family?”

“Oh, please. I’ve heard those rumors. If this bar was owned by the mob, I think they’d do better--They don’t want cops crawling all over the place.” Taddie said with a soft, disbelieving laugh. Ash gave her a look and said, “Alright, you’re new to Virginia, especially Roanoke. The mob is very present here, but the Swedes do a very good job of hiding themselves.”

“I thought you hated the mob in Roanoke?” Taddie asked, giving her a look. Ash gave a shrug and said, “I’m not gonna lie and say they aren’t attractive. They’re good to look at. ‘Bout it.”

“Okay, so who is he? The head honcho? The son? The cousin? The best friend? What, Ash?” Taddie asked, going along with her friend, though she very much did not believe her.

“He’s Thatcher Price. The youngest. He has like 6 brothers that are all in the business. Thatcher is the rebel, likes to bullshit around town, plays in a band-”

“He plays in a band? Mr. All Black, Fancy Cuff Links and Silver Chain? Yeah, I caught that, by the way.” Taddie said, shooting her friend a look and raising her brow. Ash smirked and let out a soft, swoon sounding sigh.

“Yeah, they all look real good when they clean up…Um, no-Really, he’s in a heavy metal band and his father hates it. Loathes when he goes on gigs and shit. He zeroed in on you, Tads. I’d keep an eye out. The Price brothers are a little rough with their women. I dunno about Thatcher? But he might not be completely the black sheep he’s made himself out to be…Just be careful, okay?” Ash said, giving her a firm look as Taddie grabbed her receipts and a few pens, nodding along.

“Ash, you’ve seen me handle myself. I don’t think a spoiled, little rich boy is gonna be able to shake me.” Taddie said with a soft laugh, giving Ash a bubbly smile and wrinkled her nose at her before flitting away to hand back cards.

Over the next several months, Thatcher made frequent stops to The Drunken Wench when Taddie was working. With one of his brothers taking it over from their father 4 years prior, Thatcher was able to get a hold of her schedule, even tweaked it once or twice to give her a few days off when he found she needed it, other times to coincide with when he’d come back into town after being dragged on a business trip. While he wanted to talk to Taddie himself, he was more interested in how she interacted with his bodyguards and his other friends he sent over to her, watching her closely as she spoke with the men.

Thatcher was the middle of 4 brothers and rebellious as any middle child. He held no interest in his father’s ‘business’ dealings, in complete contrast to his three brothers, who gladly took over where ever their father had felt they were ready to. His oldest brother, Thomas, was his father’s heir and there was no disputing that; He was by his father’s side on a daily basis, learning how to run the business to one day take it over. Thomas was 6’3 with a constant brooding expression boring out through his near jet black eyes, they were such a deep shade of dark brown. His hair matched, dark and hanging past his ears that glittered with a single diamond earring in each ear.

Tristan and Theo were the youngest, and twins; Tristan running the bar and Theo running the strip club down the street. Fraternal twins, Tristan was the oldest and taller of the two, with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes, making him swoonable toward any woman he looked at, Theo having dirty blonde hair and green eyes that matched Thatcher’s. Though both had their own much softer, more angelic features than Thomas or Thatcher.

While the three were quite happy and content taking their place in the family business, Thatcher was always somewhat repulsed by the idea behind the mob, but seeing the advantage of being the son of a mob boss is what made him stick around to use and abuse it to his benefit. He joined a local band in Richmond, he dedicated most of his time toward it and soon fell in love with music, though he’d never tell his father that. Thatcher was far more interested in the arts and music than he was in shaking down local businesses that were already struggling to begin with. He was glad his family was able to provide protection from other mob families that constantly tried to take over the small town, but not at the cost his father made them pay.

Luckily, Tristan told his older brother he could always come to The Drunken Wench and do what he pleased and their father would never know. Thatcher was often there to find a semi drunk, but still consenting woman to bring home and have a wild night with, or hustle a few drunken assholes out of a few hundred bucks, only once having gotten into an all out brawl, from which Tristan dragged Thatcher away from it and shoved him in the back room to keep him out of any police reports that would travel back to their father. Now, however, he had a new interest that brought him to the bar and kept him out of trouble, for once…For now.

Taddie noticed Thatcher frequenting the bar more often, but always got the same order and left her with a whole extra $100 tip from a $15 drink. She questioned his motives, but never said anything as she’d amassed quite the savings in the last several months, her piggy bank overflowing with $20’s and $50’s. Around the same time, she also noticed a slew of men had begun to order about 2-3 drinks from her, leaving her rather generous tips. What was suspect about it, was they all had something new they asked about her.

The first was what she did outside of bartending, to which she responded that she was an aspiring painter and saving to get a small studio space to work and display her pieces. Another asked if she ever did anything outdoors or like being outdoors. There was a brief and passionate conversation about camping, something Taddie had been dying to start up again since she moved from California to Virginia, moving in with Ash to start over. A few asked about her perfume, though she wasn’t wearing any, and they started guessing her favorite scents. She gently corrected them, not wanting to really engage with a few of them, but otherwise let it go. As it neared Christmas and the snowfall got heavier, Thatcher began plotting and making moves of his own.

It was a busy Friday night when Thatcher stopped by, brushing the snow from his jacket before he slipped it off and one of his bodyguards took it from him before he went to the bar and his usual seat. Taddie had seen him walk in this time, finding it odd that he handed off his jacket, then watched as the posse he walked in with split up as he headed toward her. Taddie took a deep breath as she finished the slew of drink orders she’d been given, then quickly handed them off to the other girls to deliver them to their tables. Wiping down her section of the bar then her hands, she went over to Thatcher and grabbed the bottle of rye whiskey that they were now running low on, again.

As she shook up and poured out his drink, she said, “You’re back again. Not surprising…At any point were you going to tell me you’re name?”

“Why would I do that? We’ve never spoken more than a few words to each other.” Thatcher said with a teasing smirk as she set the glass on the counter and he quickly produced a $100 bill. Taddie narrowed her gaze at him, snatching it from him and waving it back in his face as she said, “That’s why…If you’re gonna be handing over hundreds, I think I should at least know your name?”

“Thatcher.”

“Thank you…Uh-Um, th-thank you.” Taddie snapped, quickly changing her tone when she realized. Thatcher raised a brow at her then chuckled as he lifted his glass to his lips, taking a slow sip. She bit her lip and let out a soft huff, holding up the bill again as she added, “Why though? I’m-Not that I’m complaining…I just-I don’t understand. You get a double whiskey then leave…Why?”

Thatcher gave a shrug as he set the glass down and folded his arms over the bar with a small smirk as he said, “Because I can? I felt like it? If you don’t want it, give it back.”

“Never said I didn’t want it--Just said I was curious…I-I…I kind of need the money, so-so thank you.” Taddie said, chewing her lip before she gave her head a shake and turned to make the change, then split it between the girls that were working, as she did every so often. Thatcher watched her with a smirk and took another sip, waiting for her to come back.

“So, you split the tip instead of taking the whole thing, because you kind of need the money…Why?” Thatcher asked, dragging his gaze up to her with a knowing smirk. Taddie pursed her lips, slightly, trying not to smirk in embarrassment of being caught. He chuckled and pulled his gold cigarette case from his breast pocket, taking out a cigarette and his lighter, glancing up at her, waiting for an answer. Taddie tapped her manicured nails on the bar a few times before she pushed off it.

“Because some of the other girls need it more than me. They’ve got kids, medical shit, bills upon bills upon bills…Money is the only reason most of us are working here. At least in my case, this isn’t what I want to do and the last job I would take…Which…Is why I’m here.” Taddie said, looking away as she began to squirm under his intense gaze. Thatcher lit the end of his cigarette then quickly tucked the lighter in his pocket as he said, “Why are you here? What do you want to do?”

As if he didn’t already know.

“I, um…Well, I’m-I’m actually saving for a studio that’s still for rent downtown. I’m an aspiring painter, I need space.” Taddie said, a genuine smile slowly creeping across her face. Thatcher’s smile lifted as he nodded and he lifted his cigarette for another drag.

“Painter? Mmm--Might need to talk to my boys, have you commission something for us.” He said, closing his lips around the filter and taking a deep drag, one he ghosted before blowing out, away from Taddie’s face. She raised a brow, laughing in her head at the thought of being invited to the family mansion and painting a portrait of the secret Swedish Mafia family of Roanoke.

“Commission? For who? You and your brothers or something?” Taddie asked.

“How do you know I have brothers?” Thatcher asked, smirking at her as he lifted his glass for another sip.

“You give younger brother energy-Rebel child…Do you have brothers?” Taddie questioned, raising a brow at him as she spread her arms across the bar as she planted her hands on it. Thatcher chuckled and nodded, setting his glass down.

“Three-Older brother, me, then the twins. Middle child syndrome, is what you’re getting.” Thatcher said, taking a quick drag. Taddie nodded and slowly leaned back from the bar, twisting the rag in her hand, pretending to dry them off.

“Alright, then.”

“So, you’d do a commission for me and my brothers too? I was actually talking about my band.” Thatcher said, ashing his cigarette in the ashtray before bringing it to his lips again. Taddie raised her brows as an amused smirk crossed her face, chuckling softly. Thatcher raised his brows as well, surprised by the reaction. He blew his smoke just past her head as he rumbled at her, “Something funny?”

“I ju-I’m sorry…I can’t see you in a band. Everytime you come in here, it’s all black, all fancy, all suit. I-I can’t picture anything else?” Taddie said with a soft chuckle. Thatcher arched a brow as he took a deep swig of his drink.

“So, we picture me in something other than a suit?” He teased, making her jaw drop a little more, caught off guard by the question. She stammered a little and swallowed, hard, before she cleared her throat and glanced away as he snickered to himself. “Yes, I’m in a band. Metal band, in fact. Can you picture me in that?”

Taddie bit her lip as she felt her cheeks heat and she darted her eyes away. Thatcher slid his tongue over his lower lip, lightly, letting his gaze drag over her, then back up as she looked at him again, opening her mouth to respond, when someone called her name, soon followed by glass shattering from across the bar. Her head snapped over and he glanced over his shoulder. Turning back to her, he blinked when he saw she was gone, then looked around, seeing her flying down the bar and around it, shooting over to a booth where two men sat, grappling with a third that had stepped in on behalf of the waitress they were harassing. Thatcher abandoned his cigarette in the ashtray and his drink on the bar, following her as he made eye contact with two of his men, who quickly made a beeline to the altercation.

“-You want her? You can fuckin’ have the whore!” One of the problem men hollared at the third man, who stood between the table and the waitress, who cowered behind him. The third man shouted at him, then sent a cross hook to his jaw that started an brawl between the three, a fourth man jumping in to aid the third.

“Hey! Hey! Knock it off! Break it up, asshole! Hey!” Taddie shrieked at them, managing to pull one of the problem men off and shoving him into a table.

“You want to go, bitch!? Fuck off! This isn’t your fight, cunt!” He shouted at her. Taddie grabbed his shoulders and shot her knee into his groin, making him double over as the breath whooshed out of him and he collapsed.

“That’s for me. Your boy will get it for my girl.” Taddie spat at him, planting her foot on his side and giving him a shove, pushing him onto his side. One of the men she’d seen walk in with Thatcher grabbed the man, another accompanying him and dragging him to the door, shoving him at the bouncers before they headed back to break up the rest of the fight. Taddie quickly turned and grabbed the waitress, tucking her away from the brawl as she screamed at the men to stop fighting. Thatcher’s bodyguards hurried back and tore the men apart, the two that came to the rescue immediately backing off once the other man was subdued and dragged away by the bouncers.

“-And make sure you get their licenses and put them on the list, Charlie! Fuck-Natasha, are you alright, babe?” Taddie shouted to the bouncers, lowering and softening her voice as she turned to the brunette waitress, Natasha, and consoled her as she shook like a leaf.

“Ye-Yeah-Yeah, yeah, I’m-I’m fine. Ju-Just a little, um…Shaken. Can-Can I take ten or-or something?” She asked, looking at Taddie as she let out a shaky breath. Taddie shook her head and said, “No. You’re going home. It’s Friday, we’ve got the bar, it’ll die down soon anyway-Go be with your kids, Tash. Don’t forget your tip bag.”

“Are you sure? Okay-Thank you so much, Taddie.” Natasha said, giving Taddie a tight hug before taking off to the back, ripping off her apron. Taddie sighed and thanked the two men that had jumped in to save and defend Natasha, offering them drinks on the house for their heroics. They agreed, happily, and headed off to the bar to claim them, while Taddie sighed and turned to the table, clearing it off. As she muttered to herself, she’d completely forgotten about Thatcher until she turned and gasped, seeing him standing behind her.

“That was quite the jewel destroyer you gave that guy. Not as innocent as you look, are you?” He asked with a charming smirk. Taddie let out a huff of a sigh and moved around him as she said, “Never said I was innocent. He called me a cunt so I tried to make him one of his own, he loved the word so much.”

Thatcher raised a brow with a soft snicker and followed her at a slower pace, returning to his seat, his drink and his cigarette. Sliding onto the barstool, he watched her plunge the dishes into the disinfectant water, scrubbing them with a sponge before setting them on the rubber mat, then beginning to move around the place, cleaning up. Thatcher took another drag before he stamped out his cigarette and downed the rest of his drink, slipping a $100 under the glass this time. He cast another glance down the bar as Taddie returned, then turned and signaled to his bodyguards that he was ready to go.

Taddie glanced at him as he walked out, watching the four men converge on him at the door, one handing him his jacket that he slipped on before they walked out into the cold Virginia air. She ducked to the back room for a breather, dropping into the armchair with a sighed and closing her eyes. She let out a deep groan as she stretched, then sighed as she curled up and pulled out her phone, scrolling for a few minutes. She shifted in the chair, with another sigh, then closed her eyes as she cradled her phone against her stomach, letting herself drift off for a while.

Before she knew it, there was a sudden burst of chatter that startled her awake, making her gasp and sit up quickly, rubbing her eyes with a soft groan. As she shifted in the chair, yawning and looking around, she saw all the girls taking off their aprons and switching shoes as they grabbed their things. Taddie blinked as she braced her hands on the cushion, letting her mouth hang open for a while before she pushed herself to stand.

“Um, okay, why is everyone changing and getting ready to leave? We-We still have like 4 more hours-”

“We’re closed, Tads. It’s 2:30.” Ash said with a chuckle, tossing Taddie her jacket and bag. Taddie let out an oof as she caught them, slightly stumbling back as she was still half asleep.

“I’m sorry-So, what you’re telling me is, you let me sleep the last four hours of my shift?!” Taddie cried at her, giving her a half scared, half incredulous look. Ash chuckled, as did the other girls, going to her friend as she tossed her things onto the chair and went to the door.

“Tads! Tad-Chill out. We had it handled. You needed a break anyway.” Ash said, catching Taddie’s arm. She whirled around and shot Ash a look as she said, “And if Vincey came in while I was snoozing in the back? He would have fired me on the spot. Don’t let me sleep that long again, Ashlen. Seriously.”

“Well, Vincey didn’t show up, so we let you sleep. Come on, let’s go home.” Ash said, guiding her back to the chair and pushing her jacket at her. Taddie sighed and reluctantly shoved her arms into the holes before she tore off her apron and stuffed it into hers and Ash’s shared locker, kicking off her shoes and stuffing her feet into her grey sherpa boots before grabbing her bag from the chair. Ash grabbed her bag and closed the locker, both her and Taddie making their way out with the rest of the girls, through the back door.

As their boots crunched in the freshly fallen and still falling snow, headed for the car, Thatcher watched her from across the street in the comfort of his heated and illegaly tinted SUV. Taddie intrigued him and the fact she had a wit about her made it grow. She seemed shut off from her true emotions, save when she spoke about art. Though it was a brief conversation, he’d seen the sparkle in her eye grow when they talked about her art. He made a note to be back on a day when they were slower so he could actually speak to her and discuss his proposition.

Well, shit, here we go. DX XD

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@badwolf-in-the-impala

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