#because we have a lot of downtime on our shifts together. and i like to learn new shit

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Learning bartending is so fun

#for months ive been begging the bartender at my job to teach me how to bartend #because we have a lot of downtime on our shifts together. and i like to learn new shit #and yesterday it was dead af so finslly he said 'do you want to learn to bartend?' #so he filled a bottle with water and for the first hour he just had me pour shots until i was consistently getting the right measurement #then he said 'okay were gonna make some cocktails' #and he would say 'okay a six count of vodka. a three count of triple sec. a three count of lime juice' or whatever #and i would take my little water bottle and pour it into the shaker #and then shake all of my ice water together #and he taught me like. a dry martini has dry vermouth in it. and dry vermouth is clear so it only goes into coear liquors #whereas sweet vermouth isnt coear and goes into not clear liquors. and the dofference between well and top shelf #and serving etiquette. and what a one and one is #one and ones are my fav because theyre easy. its stuff like vodka cranberry. gin and tonic. rum and coke #a shot of liquor and then fill the rest with the other stuff #he told me a bunch of stuff and not all of it stuck but he had fun teaching and i had fun listening

[luinhealthcare]

Hello lovely Lofty❤️

What would you say is the pros and cons of EMS work?? Or like, things you would say to someone looking to be an EMT?

I have a full time job I don't plan on leaving, but tbh learning about what you do and reading your stories has kind of put it on my heart and I was curious if volunteer EMT jobs are a thing. Like, getting all the training done and then volunteering when I can?

Idk, I was just curious if you had anything to say regarding this😅

I could probably google some of this info but if if you feel like answering it would be appreciated! I value your opinion❤️

Ok, give me just a sec—*SQUEALS excitedly into pillow*

Hello Anon! :D That’s so exciting to hear!! I’m glad you’d rather just do it volunteer, as career EMS pays very little (my nursing job is what keeps a roof over my head, not my EMS one lol), but nearly every agency in my area has volunteers so I imagine it’s the same for your area!

So general pros and cons for EMS:

Pros

Tight knit work crew - These people see some bad things together, and trauma bonding is a thing, so they tend to be pretty close and have a lot of fun together. A note of care, we all have dark senses of humor. It’s a natural coping mechanism for people, and it can make life really funny too. But generally, working with EMS providers is quite fun! There will probably also be things like banquets, cookouts, and other fun bonding activities!

Boo boo bus - Driving is one of my least favorite parts of the job, but it is very fun to drive the truck around with lights and sirens and have the power to stop traffic and go through a red light lol. Super dangerous, but very fun

Knowledge - You learn so much in EMS! Medicine and our understanding of diseases and injuries is constantly changing, so you’ll always learn something new if you keep up with your training. Speaking of which, your agency will provide training opportunities to help you grow!

Patient care - You’ll find that the majority of your calls aren’t actually emergencies, but when you can actually take care of someone who needs you, you’re gonna ride that adrenaline high for ages. I still remember calls from years ago where I actually made a difference in someone’s life, and it’s a thrilling feeling.

Shift style - We work in 12-24 hour blocks, which means you knock out your work week in 2-3 days. As a volunteer your hour requirement would be much less than 36, but you could knock out a 24 hour monthly requirement in a single day if you wanted. Also, depending on a few factors (day vs night shift, busyness of your run area), you could literally just be spending your time chilling between calls. Sometimes I bring video games to work and play the switch because we have so much downtime. At night we get paid to just sleep if nobody’s calling 911.

Cons

Management/staffing - Like most jobs, somehow we’re all cursed with idiots in charge. Obviously this is variable, but a general trend in EMS is to overwork its people and toss them out to sea before they sometimes feel ready. And also like most jobs, we’re perpetually short staffed and everyone gets stretched thin to make up for it. Luckily for you, this shouldn’t be as big a problem because volunteers are usually treated very well!

Patient care - It’s a pro but it’s a con too. 85% of your calls are going to be for things that people should have never called 911 for. Your big pretty Boo Boo Bus is mostly going to be an Uber. And it will get frustrating, and you will have frequent flyers, and some people are not kind at all. They’ll call for your help and then get pissed off at you for trying to help. Anyone who’s worked customer service can relate, I’m sure. You get trained to handle life and death emergencies and then instead you’re picking someone up for a cough they’ve had for three days and you’re wondering when you became their mother/father and have to take the baby to the doctor when they haven’t tried anything to take care of themselves at home or see a less urgent health facility. It will burn you out if you’re not careful.

TMI - Speaking of patient care, get ready to see people at their absolute lowest. Hoarder houses, maggots, abusive households, all that jazz. Another reason for trauma bonding with your coworkers! 👍🏻 (This won’t be the majority of your calls, but you’ll see them)

Physical strain - If you don’t take care of your body, this job will hurt you. I’ve thrown my back three times working EMS; there were times where I was hobbling around like an 83-year-old and I was 22. You’ll be lifting patients of every weight, you’re gonna be contorted in weird positions trying to splint someone, CPR is a cardio exercise in itself (lol), you will probably be sore after some calls like you just went to the gym. Also, we don’t take meal breaks - you eat when you can, and you will become a speed eater very quickly in this line of work.

Mental strain - You’re gonna learn a lot about yourself and others in this work. How do you cope with stress? You will watch people die, you will see suicides and shootings and stabbings, you will watch family hurt each other and grieve over lost loved ones. You will be on edge for the majority of your shift as you wait for the tones to drop, you will be stressed trying to find an address or navigate the road and make sure nobody gets into a wreck with you. Military and first responders are so alike because the stress level and distribution is quite similar - downtime with boredom gets interspersed with spikes of huge adrenaline rushes. Have good coping skills, have a strong support system, take care of yourself. 95% of the people I know on duty are in therapy to stay sane.

Overall, I adore EMS. If I could survive off EMS pay I’d work it full time and do nursing as a side gig for funsies lol. The majority of the work is fairly mundane, but when you get to make a difference boy do you get to make a difference. And you’ll have so many funny stories to share. And the people are awesome.

Hope this helps! :D

#asks #I’m so excited you’re interested!! :D #EMS is very fun and fulfilling #Despite all the grumbling we do about our work we couldn’t imagine life without it #I’d be very sad if I had to leave EMS #even if working two jobs is definitely burning me out lol

[todayimgonnaplay]

Today I'm gonna play: Final Fantasy XIII-2

This is my first post! I don't have a format on how I'm going to discuss games, so I'm just going to rant out whatever comes to mind I guess! I'm putting an apostrophe for terms exclusive to the game and will detail them at the end.

I've recently finished FF13, which...wasn't the most enjoyable FF I've played. Although its level design was linear, and the characters can be a little tropey, I had more issues with the lack of party customization that only gets unlocked later on in the game, and the general difficulty as well as its expensive economy, it had some very impressive art direction and music that still holds up to this day! I've jumped on to its sequel to see how it fares.

I'm currently on episode 4, and I've seen some nice improvements so far! The Paradigm Shift* system is a lot faster and responsive, and the game allows you to do Preemptive Strikes* which gives you an advantage with the Stagger Bar*, as well as grant Haste* temporarily which is a nice tactical advantage. Your additional party members now consist of up to 3 monsters you capture and equip, who each have their own paradigm class. Overall this makes the combat very fun and customizable!

The first game also constantly focused on combat. This time, I'm seeing puzzle segments, which are somewhat confusing, and some options to dress up monsters you catch. Not perfect systems, but it's nice to see some downtime. I do find the Mog Throw* funny though.

Levels this time are larger and non-linear, giving more replayability as well as a sense of exploration. This exploration is linked to the main story too, so it doesn't feel too much like a chore. I'd say it's somewhat of an improvement.

The graphics are still the same, but I'm enjoying one area in particular for its futuristic aesthetic, so it still has some nice artistic direction going on. I would say the character designs are a hit or miss compared to the first game. Serah's outfit in XIII-2 seems...odd despite looking more battle-ready. Her gloves and weapon are the only pluses, but it looks like they're more keen on showing more skin for some reason (with her having a swimsuit outfit too apparently). Noel on the other hand has a more appealing design! His head gives me Squall Leonhart vibes but with the hair grown a little.

I also like the characterization more than the first game. Noel is really smart and capable, and even shows a side of impatience so he's not perfect. Serah is also interesting as she journeys from being a girl that couldn't do anything to being a courageous heroine. The duo's dynamics are more pleasing to watch compared to where the first game had a larger cast that was constantly at odds with each other but awkwardly come together at some point.

The story is also easier to follow as there's not a lot of weird terminology anymore that doesn't explain itself. Even though it's about time travel, I haven't seen anything crazy yet.

One detail I really like is that it reminds you of previous events. Every time you get back into the game, it has a ''story so far'' segment that pops up before entering a world to catch you up to speed, and for those that have not played 13, there's a whole summary section available in the menu. This may be annoying for people who have been continuously playing the game (like me) and don't need to be reminded, but there are times where we drop a game because life happens, or another game catches our attention and we wander off to playing that. But having a reminder is a nice touch for a positive experience. Perhaps this feature could have a toggled off option in the settings.

One detail I dislike is the pacing of the extra dialogue that plays in the overworld. The first game paced this well, but this sequel seems to have longer dialogue that could potentially pressure you to stop and listen if you want to hear the extra details, otherwise interacting with anything else risks you from skipping them. Grand Theft Auto also has this issue, when you're driving during a story mission and you cannot hit the destination marker yet because the characters are still talking. The only solution I can see to amending this would be to allow the player to see/hear the next dialogue by pressing a button. NEO: The World Ends With You has (non-voiced) dialogue pop up in the overworld, which you can interact with to see the rest of it while still on the go.

Overall, I'm looking forward to what the rest of the game has in store! The music is as great, if not even better than the first! I have listened to some of the tracks long before getting on this game, but I've heard some new ones that are absolute bangers! 13 made me a fan of Masashi Hamauzu, but 13-2 is now making me a fan of Naoshi Mizuta too! I'm gonna put a link to my current favourite track.

Terms exclusive to the game: Paradigm shift - Strategic set of roles your characters can have which you can switch around during combat. Preemptive strike - Allows you to strike an enemy first to gain an advantage. Similar to Player Advantage/Ambush in the Persona/Shin Megami Tensei games. Stagger bar - A gauge the player fillswhen fighting (best by casting magic) which allows the enemy to be vulernable to more damage Haste - An effect (or spell) common in FF games that makes you act faster Mog Throw - An ability that allows you to throw Mog (Moogle, a creature in FF games) to inaccessible/far places and give you treasure in return

#game analysis #ff13 2 #final fantasy xiii 2 #Youtube

[confessionblog]

I don't know if this blog is still active, but I just want to take a minute and talk about possibly one of my favorite people in the world right now.

We go to the same university, and we absolutely would have not met each other if we didn't have the same on-campus job (we set up and break down most of the student run events on campus), but I'm so glad that we did meet. We don't meet up outside of work very often because we have very different schedules and activities, but we'll say high to each other when we pass on campus and whatnot.

But when we're on shifts together at work it so fun to just chat with him and hang out while we're wiring lights, or putting up curtains or doing any of the other things we do to make sure events look good and run smoothly. And he lets me talk about what ever the latest thing that I'm working on is, even if it's just a homework assignment I'm excited about.

And like, when we're talking in a group in our downtime, I feel like he always tries to listen to what I'm saying, which means a whole fucking lot because I'm used to just being talked over.

And also, I feel like we match each other energy-wise. Like, yesterday, us and a couple other people got dinner in the dining hall before our shift together, and it was pouring out. So, when we had to leave the dining hall to go to the fieldhouse where the event was being held. And I had my backpack so that I could do homework during the event, and I didn't want that getting wet, but it was too windy for an umbrella, so I was like, "i'm going to sprint it" and I ran the distance between the two buildings, and he was right there racing me to the building, while the other two people we were with walked.

And that just made me so happy because it's so fun to just goof off with people, but I feel like the people who are willing to goof off with me is dwindling as I get older and it's just really nice to have someone that I can do that with.

I love him so much (platonically) and I'm just so glad that we were able to meet

This blog is still active. I check Tumblr every other day, and I do get notifications, but I've been working and unable to make time to address each submission correctly. A confession blog should treat each secret with care. It's an expression of the inner self to the world! I made this blog specifically for submissions like these. I wanted a space where I myself could speak anonymously my thoughts to and about the world, and mostly because I was scared of expressing how I really feel about people. I get afraid I'll overwhelm people with affection, platonic or otherwise, but I can't hold in the energy, so I write it down and post it places disconnected from the people it would effect. Nowadays, I've been honest. I'm sure if you tell this person you appreciate them a lot, they won't mind. You seem like good friends! And sometimes friendship should be spoken of. It's the nicest part of life, having someone grow alongside you, but not necessarily with you, and you see them change more with every meeting.

#anonymous confessions #confession #the power of friendship #hopecore ig

[ofcatnaps]

          Garrus’s mandibles click together fastidiously, his chin tipping upward in a motion of mock-conceit. The Turian teases, “It’s called remote learning, Shepard. And it’s Definitely Not Porn.”                   ......

          ...Okay, it was a little bit of porn. But also some legitimate research in human medical science and sociology! Vakarian had to ensure he covered all his bases (and also that he was...uh...actually attracted to humans). Close enough.

         Groaning at Inara’s reminder of allergies, Garrus covers his face with his clawed hands, trying not to think about the very real possibility of her experiencing a reaction in the middle of coitus. “-- Please don’t remind me of the risks, or I may never actually touch you. I prefer you alive when possible, Shepard.” 

          The Turian drags his palm down his facial ridges, hand dropping away as he huffs bemusedly at the commander’s open laughter. It’s good to see Inara so uninhibited, her head thrown back with unreserved mirth. The sight curls warmth like a slow-smoldering flame beneath Garrus’s carapace, and his gaze follows the motion of Shep’s hand through her hair.

                mmh..

           “I’m not going to send that Salarian notes about our sex-life, Inara” He confirms at last, sounding amused but also determined. Vakarian’s voice abruptly dips lower in register, almost a rumbling growl as he adds, “...you have inferred correctly that I Do Not Share. “  || @immortalmuses (moved for beta)

Inara had to admit, one of her favourite pastimes was quickly becoming the flustering of Garrus Vakarian, and the way he'd so vehemently denied the implication of watching Turian-Human porn in order to do the research. Peals of laughter filled the air and she shifted closer to him with a flirtatious smirk toying at the edges of her lips. ❝ I'm going to call whatever we do remote learning from now on, I hope you know that. And I'm going to enjoy ever minute of those lessons. ❞

The little tease had been enough that she was close enough now to rest a hand against his chestplate, releasing a huff of air and casting her gaze upward at him. ❝ I promise I'll keep an epi-pen handy in case the worst comes to pass, but I'm almost positive that we're compatible. If we weren't, I wouldn't have been thinking as frequently about what the first thing I wanted to do with you was. ❞

Truth be told, she'd been doing a lot of thinking about what she wanted to do, and she did wonder if the level of attraction she held for the Archangel would be as intense if they weren't physically compatible. Surely there was some part of her genetic makeup that would keep her from having repeated intimate dreams of Garrus between her thighs if their bodies weren't meant to tangle.

With the space between them thoroughly closed, Shepard slid the hand that had been in her hair only moments prior up to the Turian's face, brushing her fingers over his mandibles in an affectionate graze. ❝ I'm not very fond of sharing, either. So, if we do this - and god forbid you tell me now that we're not going to, because I might have to stop on the Citadel for some downtime - I want you to know that I'm all in. Even if it's just to ease stress for you. I'm not exactly a sleep-around kinda girl. ❞ She didn't have the time, nor the energy, to try. And someone like Garrus, who made her feel more than anything, was the perfect match.

#in character ➳ inara shepard #immortalmuses

[bestofbucky]

Eavesdrop

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: none really, enemies to ?

A/N: This is my first time posting something I have written. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much @tuiccim for your help, couldn’t have done it without you.

Being an Avenger is tough. Of course, there are the obvious missions and kicking ass that are exhausting, especially because you don’t have any sort of enhancements or powers. You are just a regular human being, fighting with and against some not so regular human beings. Naturally when you have downtime, you spend it doing things with the least amount of effort. Watching Netflix, listening to music, taking baths, etc, meaning that your social life outside of the compound was, to put it simply, non-existent.

You had just returned from the worst date of your life, well, one of the top five worst dates of your life. Over the past couple of months Steve and Natasha had grown tired of you whining about being single but not making any effort to change it and began sending you on blind dates. Somehow, they managed five different times to find five completely awful people. This time they had set you up with Arthur, a recruit for SHIELD and a good one at that. You wouldn’t be surprised to see him on the elite squad soon, but when it came to your date, he was really blunt and inappropriate, and you had cringed your way through the entire thing.

Once you got back to the compound, you first went to your room to get changed into gym clothes for training with Nat, then headed to her room. On your way you passed one of the common rooms and heard two voices. One familiar but one you didn’t recognise, you decided to check it out and found Steve and another man.

Steve called your name inviting you over to them as they both stood up. ‘This is Bucky. He’s moving in today to begin training.’ Steve explains. You nod and smile at Bucky, remembering Steve told you about him and that he would be living here and eventually joining the team.

You have to stop yourself from gasping out loud at the sight of him. He is a 6 ft something hunk of muscle and beauty and you can’t stop yourself from trying to take him all in with your eyes.

Steve then introduces you to Bucky who looks in your eyes for all of two seconds to say, ‘hi’ before looking down at his feet. He is probably really nervous. Even from that two second glance, you could tell he had one hell of a past. They had you hooked already, you wanted to stare into those eyes and let them tell you the stories of the lifetime they had seen.

‘You were just in Wakanda right? How was it? I have only ever seen it in pictures but I really want to go.’ You let your excitement show, hoping to relax him a bit.

‘Yeah, it was nice. I was frozen for most of it though’ Shit, he curses himself. He didn’t mean to come across so rude but he was really nervous, you are really pretty and it is messing with his head a little. It doesn’t help that he has had to meet a lot of different people today and he is all socialised out. He sees your face fall slightly before you quickly compose yourself, any normal person would have missed it but he has his past of being a trained assassin.

‘Well, Nat is probably waiting for me, she told me she would show me some new moves today.’ You say realising that Bucky had probably been under a lot of stress lately and most likely just wanted to be alone, or with Steve rather than chatting to you, a stranger. At least you hoped this was the reason and it wasn’t that he already disliked you. Saying goodbye to the two of them you head off to Natasha’s room.

Not even bothering to knock, you walk into her room leaving the door open behind you, since you’ll be heading down to the gym soon anyway. Natasha is sitting on the end of the bed braiding her hair. ‘You almost ready?’ You ask.

‘Yeah, just got to finish my hair then put my shoes on.’ She tells you so you take a seat on her bed while you wait.

Meanwhile, Bucky told Steve that he wanted to go get his room sorted. Really it was just an excuse to be alone for a little while. On the way there he walked past a room with the door open and heard two voices talking, recognising them to be you and Natasha. He was just about to carry on walking to his room when he heard Natasha ask, ‘did you meet him yet?’

Bucky assumed she was talking about him and wanted to hear what you had to say. He hoped you would be understanding of his reticence after his taxing morning. 

‘Yeah, I met him today.’ You sigh and roll your eyes.

‘That bad?’ Nat asks, raising her eyebrows with a slight smirk on her face.

‘Yes, I tried to be as friendly as I could but he seemed like a jerk.’ You huff.

‘How so?’

‘He was so blunt he just came across really rude. I had high expectations, especially after hearing Steve say so many nice things about him.’

‘Maybe he was just having a bad day?’ She attempts a defence. 

‘Bad day or not, he should have the courtesy to smile and be polite even if it is fake.’

Bucky was so hurt to hear this. Yes, he wasn’t the nicest to you but your reaction seemed a bit dramatic. He didn’t want to hear you say any more so he rushed off to his room.

‘So, I guess you aren’t going to go on a second date with him then?’ Nat asks.

‘No, I really appreciate you and Steve trying to set me up but seeing as this is the 5th time and none of them were any good, I think I’ll go back to my old methods.’ You smile at her.

‘What, never putting yourself out there and waiting for the right person to just fall into your lap?’ Nat teases and you both laugh when you nod. She finishes tying her shoelaces and you head off to the gym.

The next day you were leading a meeting of recruits who have the potential to be moved up into the squad that worked with the Avengers. The elite squad. Unfortunately for you, Arthur was in the group of recruits and was probably the next one to be promoted.  You finally dismissed everyone and started getting your stuff together to leave as well when Arthur came up to you.

‘What’s the word on who is moving up next, dove?’ You look up in shock, surely, he didn’t just call you dove.

‘Excuse me?’ You look him dead in the eye.

‘I said what’s the word on who is moving up next? I think you might need to get your hearing checked.’ He laughs at his own joke so you fake laugh with him.

‘That’s confidential., we’ll let everyone know when we have made the decision.’ You say and go to walk past him but he grabs your arm.

‘Does someone need a little convincing. If it’s you, then I can think of some ways.’ He whispers seductively in your ear. You pull your arm out of his grasp and frown at him.

‘I’m only joking, dove, come on, you can’t even take a joke?’ He laughs again.

You put on your best fake smile and your customer service voice. ‘There will be no convincing necessary. You are a good agent but you also have good competition. We will inform you all of our decision when it is made.’ You say and quickly turn and walk out the door before he can say anything else. When you get into the lift you ask FRIDAY where Steve is.

‘Common room A, Agent Y/L/N’. You make your way there as quick as possible. Heading around the corner, you slam into a solid object. You hiss at the contact on your fresh bruises, a frown appearing on your face. As soon as you look up to see what or who you bumped into, the frown quickly fades into a smile when you see its Bucky. He is already looking at you.

‘Sorry I should have been watching where I was going.’ He mumbles quickly.

‘No, it’s just as much my fault as yours. I shouldn’t have been in such a hurry.’ You apologise to him. As much as you would love to stay and chat  with  Bucky, you need to get to Steve to explain what just happened with Arthur and hopefully you can get him kicked off the team.

Bucky had left his room to try and find someone to help him figure out a few things with FRIDAY but as soon as he bumped into you that completely left his mind. You were all that filled his mind ever since he met you. He stood in the hallway for a while before realising he should ask you to help. Maybe this would be a good excuse to make up for his poor first impression. He heads in the direction you went but stops short when he hears your voice.

‘I think he bruised me. The dick.’ You say and Steve frowns at you ‘Come on, Steve. I’m  allowed to be angry. He has been nothing but a jerk to me,’ you explain and shift to get more comfortable.

‘What did you say to him when he did this?’ Steve asks, holding your arm and examining the newly formed bruises in the shapes of fingers.

‘I put on my best fake smile and pretended like everything was ok,’  You joke and Steve laughs, ‘as much as I hate the guy, I don’t have the confidence to actually show it.’ You sigh and Steve pulls your sleeve back down and leans back into the sofa. ‘Is there any way we can kick him off the team?’ You exaggerate batting your eyelashes at him.

‘He isn’t even on the team yet and you already want to kick him off?’ Steve questions.

‘Yes! I really don’t like him. I know he is your friend but I trust him about as far as I can throw him’ You explain and Steve nods.

Bucky had heard enough. He can’t believe you could be so horrible. You had the sweetest exterior and, from first impressions, you didn’t look like you could hurt a fly. But as he heard you say, you clearly put on a fake act to come across as polite and kind when really you are rude deep down. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. Twice now. But he is so glad he did, because now he knows not to waste his energy on you. He knows what you think of him and he has formed his opinion of you. He hurries back to his room.

‘He’s not my friend Y/N, I only said that to you to make you go on the date with an open mind. I’ve only ever had one conversation with the guy,’ Steve jokes and you playfully push his arm, ‘All jokes aside, his behaviour breaks a lot of conduct rules and is a good enough reason to have him knocked down a few squads.’ Steve replies and you sigh with relief. You hug Steve and thank him for his help, he’s taken slightly off guard but hugs you back before you go your separate ways.

 A few weeks later, you walk into the kitchen to find the whole team eating their breakfast. Sam is cooking and when he sees you, he makes a plate and hands it to you.

‘Thank you Sam.’ You hug him and take the plate, turning around at the sound of Bucky’s scoff. You haven’t had a conversation with Bucky since you bumped into each other in the hallway. You had tried to but he either completely ignored you or just rolled his eyes and left the room.

At first it hurt, you wondered if you had done something wrong. The team seemed just as confused by it as you. Bucky didn’t have a problem with anyone else. That wasn’t to say he was extremely friendly with them, he wasn’t there yet and nobody blamed him but he could hold conversation with the others. He even laughed at their jokes. You were starting to get fed up with it so after breakfast you headed to Bucky’s room to talk to him. You knocked on the door and it wasn’t long until he answered it. As soon as he saw you his face fell visibly.

‘Can we talk?’ You asked hoping he would let you into his room. He paused to consider it then stepped out of his room, closing the door behind him. He stood there with his arms crossed and waited for you to talk.

‘Is there something I did wrong?’ You ask him and he keeps a blank face.

‘Why do you care?’ He asks still arms crossed over his body.

‘I care because you are always scoffing or rolling your eyes at me whenever I try to talk to you.’

‘I’m not scoffing or rolling my eyes now.’ He points out.

‘No but you’re not exactly being very friendly.’

‘Would you prefer for me to fake it then? Just put on a smile and pretend to like you?’ He jabs. You take a moment to process what he just said. You didn’t realise he could be so mean.

‘No Bucky I would prefer for you to maybe make an effort to get to know me before making a judgement.’ You scowl at him.

‘I have a perfectly fine judgement of you. I am not going to fall for your fake smiles and fake friendships.’ Bucky snarls and walks back into his room closing his door in your face. You are left to stand there in shock.

On the other side of the door Bucky is leaning there conflicted. The shock on your face looked so genuine. No, he has to remember it is all an act with you.

From that day on you decided you weren’t going to make an effort with him. It wasn’t the most mature decision but you were tired. What used to be eye rolls and scoffs, now turned into snarky comments and you were no longer afraid to throw them right back at him.

Steve had tried a few times to talk to you about it but, when he couldn’t tell you why Bucky hated you, he realised there was nothing he could do to change how either of you felt about the other. What he could do was change up your schedules so the two of you were rarely ever in the same room together.

Unfortunately, instead of the arguments happening quite calmly but consistently over the course of the whole day. They were now much shorter, confined to just mealtimes, and much more heated and intense. None of the team knew which was worse.

You were sparring in the gym with Natasha trying to work off some steam from this morning’s argument with Bucky.

‘Your moves are sloppy, get whatever is making you emotional out of your head.’ She grunts at you but this only forces you further into your head.

You go hard at her, but she blocks every move so you go to defence. She smirks at you, ‘Has a certain super soldier got into your head?’

That causes a surge of anger to hit you and again you go hard at Natasha, but your anger only allows her to catch you off balance and you are pinned to the mat in a matter of seconds.

‘So it is Barnes.’ She  pulls you up and you brush yourself off before getting back into a fighting stance.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ You grunt at her and start your attack. Your moves are still predictable and anger clouds your mind. You feel yourself getting more and more worked up with every hit she blocks.

You retreat to take a breather, you hear the door open and you glance over, the man of the hour has just entered and you roll your eyes but continue to spar with Natasha.

Out the corner of your eye, you see him make his way over to you both, watching as you take a lot of hits from her and barely manage to land any of your own.

‘I have seen toddlers fight better than you Y/N.’ You hear him chuckle.

‘I don’t need your opinion.’ You grunt, still trying to keep your focus on Natasha.

‘Fight like that on the field and you’ll be dead in two seconds.’

‘Keep talking and you’ll wish you were dead.’

He laughs ‘Is that a threat?’ You ignore him and continue sparring. ‘Your punches are so weak, how did you become an Avenger again?’ He is still smiling knowing exactly which buttons to push.

You stop and make your way over to him. ‘I became an Avenger because of my talent and my strength, that I worked hard to earn.’ You are right up in his face, almost chest to chest. You are breathing hard, partly from the exercise but mostly because of how riled up you are. You notice he is breathing hard as well, his breath fanning across your face.

Your mind can’t help but drift, is this what he would look like in bed, his chest rising and falling faster than normal. Small beads of sweat gathered at his hairline from his recent run. You suddenly realise how close the two of you are and force the inappropriate thoughts from your mind. You hate how seeing him so riled up is actually a huge turn on. How could you let yourself be attracted to such an asshole?

‘You wouldn’t stand a chance against me.’ His voice drops so low that in a different circumstance you would have happily dropped your panties.

‘You’re right. I wouldn’t stand a chance against you and your metal arm that you were given. Or you and the super soldier serum that you were given.’ You know they are cheap shots but you just couldn’t help how absolutely fuming he makes you. He had managed to get under your skin and the thought of him being successful only made you angrier.

He leans down even more, your noses almost touching ‘I don’t know how everyone else can’t see through your little nice act. You pretend to be so kind on the outside but deep down you’re a bitch.’ Ouch. You deserved that one for what you said to him but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Especially because if you were hooked up to a lie detector and asked to say those things again, it would flash up as a blatant lie. However, looking into his eyes there was not an ounce of regret for what he said.

Bucky knew he shouldn’t have said what he did, but you had hit a nerve and it was the only thing he could think to say back. He saw the hurt flash across your eyes but it was too late to take it back now. The only thing he could do was exit the situation before it got any worse. He turned on his heels and left the room, leaving you standing there in complete shock at your exchange. 

Natasha calls your name but you quickly leave for your room before anyone can see you like this.

The team was split all across the base. This wasn’t how you would usually handle missions but as soon as you arrived the mission started to go sideways.

‘Target headed towards the west elevator. Anyone nearby copy?’ You hear Steve’s voice through comms.

‘I'm on it.’ You say back, your comms crackling more than usual.

‘Copy that.’ Bucky said, his comms crackling from the two of you talking at the same time.

The rest of the team had heard both of your voices but neither of you had heard the other. So it was a big shock when you were waiting for the elevator and you heard his voice behind you.

‘You have got to be kidding me.’ He sighs and slowly walks up to you to wait for the elevator as well. ‘Did you not hear me say I got it?’ He snaps at you.

‘No because I was the one that said I’m on it.’ You snap back and thankfully the elevator dings it’s arrival. Normally in creepy Hydra bases you would avoid elevators but seeing as there was no stairwell nearby, this was the only option.

‘Age before beauty.’ You say to him, gesturing to the elevator.

‘Very funny’ he says sarcastically before stepping inside. You follow after him and press the only floor button available.

Silence permeates the small space as you prepare for what’s to happen once the doors open. Instead, the elevator jerks to a stop.

‘No.’ You panic and start pressing the floor button over and over. ‘No no no no no.’ Nothing is working.

‘Let me try.’ Bucky says pushing you out of the way, you so badly want to say something but the only thing you can focus on is the fact you might be trapped. Bucky taps the button and looks around for anything else to press but there is nothing. You can feel yourself start to get light headed as claustrophobia takes hold and the thought of falling to your death in this metal box takes over your thoughts. You shrink down onto the floor and hold your head in your hands.

‘Do you always have to be so dramatic?’ Bucky huffs. You don’t answer him, the only thing you can think about is the pain starting in your chest and your breathing getting heavier. 

‘Stop breathing so fast. You are going to make yourself pass out.’ Bucky grunts but when you don’t reply or make any effort to slow your breathing he gets worried. He kneels down in front of you ‘Hey? Doll? Can you hear me?’ You can’t answer him, you just feel the impending doom and the immense pressure on your chest. ‘I’m going to move your hands.’ He announces then you feel him take your hands and pull them away from your face. You look at him, tears in your eyes, a look of pure fear across your face. ‘Breathe with me, doll. Can you do that?’ He asks and you manage to nod. He speeds his breathing up to your pace then gradually slows it, you follow him as best as you can and eventually you get your breathing back to normal, with the occasional hiccup or sharp intake.

Once he sees you are ok, he lets go of your hands and sits on the floor as far away as he can. You both continue to sit in silence.

‘Thank you.’ You eventually manage to whisper, he nods without meeting your eye.

You can’t help but feel disappointed, you just got to see a caring side of Bucky and it felt amazing to be on the receiving end of it, but now you are back to him not giving a shit about you. You go back and forth wondering whether it is the right time to bring up the issues between you two. If not now, when?

‘Why do you hate me so much?’ He looks across at you and sighs before he answers.

‘I don’t hate you.’

‘Yes you do. It seems like you go out of your way to make me miserable.’ You push, making him lean his head back on the wall behind him.

‘I don’t hate you. I just don’t like how you formed opinions about me so early on. You wanted me off the team before I even got cleared to be on the team.’ Bucky explains. You stare at him in confusion.

‘How do you know what opinions I formed of you? I may have wanted you off the team but it was only because you were mean and that was after you were cleared.’ You could feel yourself starting to get angry.

‘Then how come I overheard you talking about the first time we met to Nat, you said I was blunt and rude. Then after I accidentally bumped into you, you told Steve you wanted me off the team.’ Bucky says agitatedly.

‘I never-‘ you think back to any conversations you had with Nat and Steve about Bucky. The only ones that came to mind were asking them if they knew why Bucky didn’t like you. Then it hits you, he had overheard you talking to Steve and Nat about Arthur. You sighed.

‘Let me guess, you overheard me and Nat talking not long after we first met. We were in Nat’s room getting ready to go train?’ You ask and he nods.

‘Then the conversation you overheard with Steve was straight after we bumped into each other. We were in the common room?’ Bucky looks confused but nods again.

‘You are such a prick. You eavesdrop but don’t even listen long enough to hear who we were talking about.’ You can’t help but chuckle at the situation, even though it’s not particularly funny.

‘What?’ Bucky looks more confused than ever.

‘Well, if you had listened properly to the whole conversation you would know I was talking about that asshat agent, Arthur.’ That came out more blunt than you intended.

‘The recruit that got bumped down a few squads even though he is really good?’

‘Yep. That’s the one’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Before you came Steve and Nat had been setting me up on blind dates with people. Arthur was the fifth one, I really didn’t want to go so Steve convinced me by saying they were friends and all this nice stuff about him.’ You pause to take a deep breath. ‘The day we met, I had just come from the date with him and it was awful. That's what me and Nat were talking about. Then when we bumped into each other in the hallway, I had just come from a meeting with the recruits. Arthur had been inappropriate and he hurt my arm, I was rushing to Steve to tell him and ask if he can be kicked off the team.’ You finally manage to say and Bucky just looks at you. You can see the cogs turning in his head as he is finally getting context to the snippets of conversation he overheard.

‘Shit. I am so sorry. I am such an idiot.’ He scolds himself and you can’t help but feel bad for him.

‘I am not going to disagree with you, but we have both said and done some pretty nasty stuff. I am sorry for any hurt I caused you.’  You say sincerely and he looks over to you and smiles.

‘So you didn’t think I was rude when we first met?’ He still holds your eye contact and you take a moment to look at him. You have never seen him look so vulnerable before, he almost looked scared.

‘No, Bucky, I thought you were probably nervous or tired from meeting loads of new people.’ You explain and his shoulders fall.

‘I feel like such a jerk.’ He sighs and you scoot yourself closer to him so he has to look at you.

‘I’m not all that innocent in this either. It was a misunderstanding. I am just glad we have cleared it up now.’ You say meaning it and he smiles earnestly back at you. It is something you have never experienced first-hand. You have seen him give those gorgeous, slightly lopsided, smiles to other people but seeing one directed at you causes a rush of heat to your cheeks and you find yourself blushing.

Bucky must have been thinking along the same lines ‘You’re cute when you blush. I have never seen this side of you before.’ He brushes some hair out of your face and behind your ear. ‘You know, part of the reason I was so nervous when I first met you was because I was taken off guard by how beautiful you are.’ His cheeks flush slightly at his confession.

Before you can say anything the elevator jerks again and starts moving, you and Bucky are quick on your feet, preparing yourself for the doors to open.

When they finally do you are met with a group of Hydra agents ready to attack. You and Bucky work in tandem, playing off each other’s strengths. When the Hydra agents realize this, they work to separate you. The majority of them are on Bucky but you are fighting four at once. You are onto the last one when he raises his gun to shoot but you force his arm down. Not quick enough, it fires and clips your calf causing you to cry out from the pain 

It is not as bad as actually being shot in the leg but it still hurts like hell and you can’t put pressure on it. The room is pretty silent apart from footsteps you recognise to be Bucky approaching. You move quickly and uppercut the guy in the nose. The crack echoes throughout the room as the guy falls to the floor at your feet.

You turn to Bucky, his mouth agape and eyebrows raised in shock. ‘That was hot.’ He announces finally, making you laugh, you go to take a step towards him but realise too late that your injured leg won’t hold your weight. You would have fallen to the floor if Bucky hadn’t rushed to catch you.

‘Thanks.’ You chuckle, your faces are extremely close. Your eyes completely entranced in his. Your whole body warms at the safe feeling of being in his arms. You start to wonder what it would be like to fall asleep in these arms, to wake up the next morning still wrapped up in them. Protected.

You force yourself back to reality by clearing your throat. ‘We should probably get back to the team.’ You say and he nods. He puts his arm around your waist and you put yours over his shoulders to use him as a crutch.

The ride back up in the elevator goes smoothly this time and before you know it you are hobbling up to the quinjet where the rest of the team awaits. Natasha and Steve are both looking back and forth from you to Bucky in confusion.

‘What the hell happened?’ Steve asks not trying to hide how baffled he is that you and Bucky are holding onto each other and not arguing. Natasha simply smirks. Bucky helps you into a seat then sits opposite you with a wink as you smile at him.

‘No, this is too weird. Please argue, bicker, roll your eyes. Anything.’ Sam begs Bucky who doesn’t break his eye contact with you. Bucky simply laughs knowing his behaviour is unsettling Sam and enjoying the newfound comradery with you.

#bucky #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #enemies to lovers #enemies to something #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #reader insert #marvel #marvel fanfiction #avengers #avengers x reader #bucky x agent!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #mcu #mcu fic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #james buchanan barnes

[rosiehunterwolf]

@fabro-de-omres HOLD UP BESTIE, I GOT ONE LAST FIC FOR YOUR LIST-

Star-Ninja!

Prompts: Siblings and Competition

Word Count: 5,884

Characters: The ninja

Timeline: Snapshots throughout the series

Trigger Warnings: None

Summary: What happens when the loveable gremlin the ninja adopted off of the streets introduces them to Starfarer comics?

Chaos ensues, of course.

Read on FFN.net

Read on Ao3

Tumblr work under the cut

“Take that! And that! Oh, yeah-” Jay leaped to his feet, grinning. “Die, lava zombies, die!”

Level complete. The words flashed across the screen, and Jay whooped. Only one more level and he would beat Zane’s high score.

“You could’ve beaten it faster if you had taken out the little guys first.”

Jay whipped around to see the little wispy-haired kid draped over the arm of the couch, staring at the TV screen with a glazed, listless look in his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Jay snapped.

“I’m borrrred,” he whined, kicking his legs against the couch. “Can I play with you?”

“No.”

“Can I use the training course?”

“No, you’re not a ninja.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“It’s not our job to entertain you, kid.”

“I didn’t ask to be kidnapped by you,” Lloyd snapped.

Jay felt his face flush. “So you’d rather still be with the Serpentine?”

“Well no, I just wanna have a choice!”

Jay stared at him for a moment. I don’t know his whole story. He’s a kid who’s been dealt a bad hand in life. He exhaled slowly. “Look, Lloyd, you’re just a kid. I know it’s hard for you to understand- but you’ve caused a lot of trouble. The Serpentine are dangerous, and you don’t know enough to deal with them. You just gotta trust us, okay?”

Lloyd sighed dramatically, sliding off of the couch and onto the floor. “Yeah, whatever.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Can’t you find something to do for a little while? Please? I’ll talk with Sensei about what we’re going to do with you as soon as he gets back.”

To his surprise, Lloyd actually left him alone, and Jay turned back to his game. He knew it wasn’t a very responsible move, but he had never agreed to babysit the kid. Besides, they were going hunting for Serpentine again tomorrow, so it would likely be Jay’s last chance to have some downtime for an entire week.

By the time Jay had finally beaten the top score, his fingers were sore from playing. Flopping onto the couch, he glanced up at the clock. It had been an hour since he had sent Lloyd off, and he hadn’t heard so much as a peep from the kid.

Jay had only known him for a couple of days, but already that seemed like suspicious behavior.

He headed into the storage room that Sensei had scrapped together into a makeshift bedroom for his nephew. Lloyd was sprawled across his mattress, reading a book.

I guess he’s not up to anything. I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge him. Jay turned to leave before stopping suddenly and whirling back around.

“Hey!” he yanked the book out of Lloyd’s hands. “Is this a Starfarer comic? Have you been snooping around in my room?”

“No! I haven’t touched your stupid stuff. Figures, the one time I actually didn’t do anything wrong, you blame me.”

“Have you not heard of The Boy who Cried Wolf?” “What?”

“Nevermind.” Jay examined the comic. It was an old edition, but not one he owned. Besides, the cover was wrinkled and there were dog ears on several pages. Jay would never treat his comics so harshly. “If it’s not mine, then whose is it?”

“It’s mine. Is it so hard to believe that I don’t steal everything?’

“No, I mean, you like Starfarer?”

“Of cou- I, uh, I mean, Starfarer’s for babies, ha. I’m only reading this because it’s the only book I have and you wouldn’t give me anything else to do.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I guess I’ll have to go enjoy my Starfarer comic collection on my own, then. Since it’s too babyish for big kids like you.”

“Your what?” Lloyd was suddenly sticking to him like a barnacle. “You collect Starfarer comics?”

“Not just comics.” He grinned as he watched Lloyd’s eyes widen. “Movies, posters, action figures- you name it.”

“No way! Can I see? Please, please? Just for a second-” Jay put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back. “Hang on, kiddo. I thought Starfarer was for babies?”

Lloyd shifted on his feet. “Well, I didn’t really mean that, I just- I was just testing you!”

Jay raised an eyebrow, smothering a laugh. “Uh huh. If you’re such a master, why aren’t you reading the new comics?”

Lloyd looked down, shuffling his feet. “I… this is the newest one I have. We didn’t really get many opportunities to buy what we wanted at Darkley’s. Especially not a book about superheroes. Because we were super busy being evil and stuff, heh.”

Jay felt his heart twist. Am I really pitying Lloyd Garmadon right now just because of some comics?

Although, when he looked at Lloyd now, he didn’t see the annoying, mischievous son of a villain. He saw a wide-eyed, naive kid looking at Jay with such hope that it was hard not to feel a strong urge to protect him from the burdens of the world.

Jay crouched down next to him. “Y’know what? I’ll show you my newer comics. You can even keep some, if you like.”

“Really? You’re not messing with me?”

“As long as you promise not to treat them like that.” Jay gestured towards the wrinkled comic. “Seriously, dude, you better go wash your grubby little hands before I even let you within five feet of my stuff.”

Jay didn’t think he’d ever seen Lloyd be in such a hurry to do anything.

---

“What’s this do?”

Nya snatched Lloyd’s hand away from the control panel. “Don’t touch that!”

“But what about-”

“Or that! Just-” She took a deep breath, running her fingers through her hair. “Don’t touch anything unless I specifically tell you to, okay?”

“Well, then what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, find something. I’m not here to babysit you, Lloyd, I’m managing the comms. It’s important to make sure we stay in touch with the guys when they are on their mission.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he huffed. “Why couldn’t they take me with them? I am a ninja now. I could’ve bashed in some Serpentine heads!”

Nya glanced at him, glaring defiantly in his oversized gi. “I’d hardly call you a ninja, squirt. You haven’t even grown into that gi yet.”

“Yes, I have! See, it fits me perfectly!”

“...Lloyd, those pant legs almost completely cover your shoes.”

“They do not! Uncle Wu said I was a ninja.”

“A ninja in training, at best,” Nya corrected.

“What’s the use of being the green ninja if I don’t get anything fun out of it?”

“One day, green machine. You just have to be patient.”

He groaned loudly, flopping onto the chair. “I hate being patient.”

“No! You? Impatient? Who would’ve guessed?”

“Can’t you at least show me how to turn on the alarms?”

“No. Alarms are for emergencies only.”

“It is an emergency! I’m going to die of boredom!”

“Fine,” Nya relented. “What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone- and stay out of trouble? Can I rent you a movie?”

“Ooh, can I watch Zombies: Back for Revenge? Or Ghost Story? Or Dawn of Destruction?”

“Nope, nope, and nope. Too scary, too mature, too violent. Pick something more family-friendly, Lloyd.”

He pouted. “Kai got to watch those movies.”

“Yeah, well, Kai’s older than you and is responsible for his own actions. If you watch those, you’ll be up all night with nightmares and Sensei will never trust me again.”

“I won’t have nightmares! He’ll never know! Please, Nya.”

“No. End of discussion. Pick something else or nothing at all. Remember, it’s my money paying for the movie here. What about those… space wars movies you love?”

“It’s Starfarer,” Lloyd snapped, although his expression looked considerably lighter. “There’s one I haven’t seen yet…”

After Lloyd showed her the movie and she paid for it, Nya turned back to the control panel and checked for messages from the guys. Still nothing.

She really hated when they left her in the dark like that.

There were sounds of explosions from behind her, and a cheer from Lloyd- she glanced over her shoulder to see him grinning gleefully at the screen as the main characters blew something up. She shook her head- what was it with young boys and explosions?- but she couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto her face. Glancing over at the comms, she double-checked that no one had said anything.

The guys obviously weren’t taking the effort to communicate with her. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick break.

Sitting down next to Lloyd, she focused her attention on the movie. It seemed nonsensical and boring at first, but after a bit, Lloyd started explaining things to her, and, to her surprise, she found herself happy to listen. As it got later, his talking slowed, and at some point- Nya couldn’t quite identify when- Lloyd was leaning against her side, snuggling with their shared blanket.

Nya watched him carefully. She hadn’t cuddled with anyone like this since she had been younger, with Kai- but then, she had been the younger one, the one being protected. Now, she was experiencing what she imagined Kai must’ve felt, and despite how annoying he could be, Nya felt a strong urge to pull him close and never let him go.

She understood their reluctance to let Lloyd fight fully now. She didn’t want to ever send him off into battle, especially not the Final Battle.

How could this sweet, stubborn little wisp of a child be the green ninja?

Many hours and three movies later, Nya was afraid to even look at the clock. Rubbing Lloyd’s head, she murmured, “It’s way past your bedtime, kiddo.”

“‘m not tired,'” he mumbled in an obviously tired voice.

“I already let you stay up way later than you should be.”

“Just one more movie!” “Lloyd! These things are two hours long!”

“I promise I’ll go right to bed after!”

“That’s what you said after the last one.”

“Well, I really mean it this time.”

“No way.”

“Please?” Lloyd suddenly looked a lot more nervous, twisting his hands together. “Just… just until we hear something. From the ninja.”

“Oh, Lloyd.” She put a hand on his back. “It’s okay. They’re okay. Most likely, they just forgot to report back. They do that all the time.”

“But we don’t know that.”

“...Yeah. You’re right. We don’t.”

“Is it always this scary? Waiting for them to talk to you, not knowing what’s going on?”

Nya nodded slowly. “Yeah, a lot of the time it is, bud. But eventually, you learn to trust them. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t worry about their safety, but I know they are strong and capable and can take care of themselves.” Lloyd nodded. “That makes sense.”

He still didn’t look quite content with her answer, though. Nya leaned in, murmuring to him.

“Tell you what. What if we watch half of one more movie?”

Man, she was turning into such a disgustingly gross softie for this kid so fast, wasn’t she.

But the wide, genuine smile that split across his face made it worth it.

---

Kai stood in front of the long expanse of bookshelves, stacked with dozens and dozens of comics.

“Excuse me,” Kai gestured to the nearest bookstore employee, and he walked over. “Which part is the Starfarer section?”

The employee blinked at him. “You’re already in it. This entire wall is Starfarer.”

Kai gawked at the wall in utter amazement. There had to be at least a hundred books there. How were these many Starfarer comics even possible?

“Which one is the best one?” he asked the employee.

The man pushed his glasses up his nose, looking increasingly annoyed with Kai’s lack of Starfarer knowledge. “That’s hardly a straightforward question. Starfarer is our most popular franchise, they’re all popular. It’s impossible to pick one book. If you’re looking for our most popular selling comics of all time, that would be volumes 1, 32, 45, and 79. As for comics trending right now, that, of course, would be the most recent ones, 273 through 282. Although volume 13 has seen a sudden influx in readership. If you are looking for those with the best ratings-”

How do I say, ‘which comic is best for my little brother who was just aged up several years, without warning, and I want to help him regain his sense of childhood?’

Deciding this wasn’t going to be helpful, Kai gently dismissed the employee and began looking on his own. He tried to pick out ones with interesting covers, but ended up throwing many of them back after skimming the summaries on the back.

That wasn’t working very well either, and Kai was just about to throw the towel in and grab some random comics and hope for the best- or worse, call Jay and ask for help- when he decided to open one comic to skim it.

This quickly turned into a mistake, because before Kai knew it, five minutes had turned into an hour, and he had completely finished the comic. One comic turned into two, then five. He only was able to yank himself from his reading when he got a text from Zane asking where he was and that dinner was going to be ready soon.

Gathering up a large handful of the comics he had liked, Kai headed back towards the Bounty on his motorbike.

He found Lloyd on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with earbuds in. He pulled them out when he saw Kai, his gaze darting curiously towards the stack of comics.

“I got you these,” Kai said, setting them down next to him. “I know things are… different now, with you being older, but you’re always going to be my little brother. And I wanted you to know that just because you’re physically older doesn’t mean you have to stop doing the things you love. So if you still want to make doodles for our fridge, or make your food into shapes on your plate, or read Starfarer comics, no one’s going to judge you.”

Lloyd picked up a comic, slowly leafing through it. He was quiet for so long that Kai began to worry that he had completely messed something up. But when he finally spoke, he simply said, “You read it.”

“I… what?”

A smile spread across Lloyd’s face. “You read these before you bought them. Didn’t you?”

Kai spluttered. “I- what? That doesn’t make any sense! You have no proof!”

“The pages are creased over here. You always crease back the pages when you have a book. And there’s a slight depression here that shows the presence of fingers. Too big to be Jay’s or Nya’s, and too small to be Zane’s or Cole’s.”

Kai blinked at him. “You pay way too much attention to people, don’t you?”

“Hey, I paid attention during training, y’know!”

“More than we give you credit for, apparently.”

“I just can’t believe I spent all those months trying to pressure you to read Starfarer and you suddenly pick it up when I’m not even forcing you.”

“Shut up.” Kai shoved him gently. “It was a one-time thing. I was only doing it so I could find a comic you would like,”

“Yeah, so it makes sense you would look at them for five hours.”

“How did you- I mean, I didn’t go to the bookstore right away! I was doing other things! I only went there a few minutes before I came home!”

“Oh, yeah?” Lloyd raised an eyebrow. “What ‘other things?’”

“Uh, very important ninja business, like, um… patrol?”

“Cole returned from patrol two hours ago.”

“Well, this was a super-secret different patrol that Cole doesn’t even know about.”

“Really. Does Sensei know?”

“Nope. Just me.”

Lloyd elbowed him playfully. “You’re gonna have to watch all the movies with me now, y’know.”

“No way. Aren’t there like, fifty of those?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“No, thanks.”

“You have to! It’s part of the experience. Wait until I tell Jay you’re into it now.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You bet I would!” Lloyd looked over at the pile of comics again, examining them more closely. “Nice, these are some good ones. Which ones did you read?”

“Um. The ones I bought?”

Lloyd looked up at him, his grin fading. “But like… not just these, right? You read others? In between them?”

“No… is this supposed to be some sort of poke at me being a slow reader-”

“No! I just can’t believe you read them in this order! Seriously, you couldn’t have gotten it any more wrong! You’ve ruined the whole series for yourself!”

“Oh, that’s such a shame, guess you better not tell Jay, then-”

“Oh, no way, you’re still getting into the fandom. We’re going to fix this. Come look at my comics. We’re going to read them together, and I’m gonna show you how to do it right.”

“Oh, is that Zane calling for dinner-”

“Nice try,” Lloyd smirked. “But you’ve entered the Starfarer fandom now. You’re in it, good and deep. There’s no coming back from this, Kai.”

“Glad to see your psychotic gremlin tendencies weren’t lost in the tea,” Kai grumbled. “Probably the one thing I could’ve gone without.”

---

“Are you out of your mind? The movie adaptions of Starfarer are way better.”

“Okay, there is clearly no hope left for you, Lloyd. The show is far superior to any of the movies.”

“Are you kidding? The budget for the show was so much lower! They just used a bunch of cheap, corny special effects, the movies were much smoother!”

“Visuals aren’t the most important thing, Lloyd. The show had a smaller storyboard team, meaning their ideas were more consistent and developed. The plot is overall much more in-depth in the show, and the extended time also gives them more space to do what they want.”

“It also leaves a lot of space for pointless filler! The movies are more direct. Every scene is important. Whereas I can name half a dozen episodes from the show- and that’s just on the top of my head- that were completely useless and would not change the plot at all if discarded.”

“You’re insane, every filler episode had importance! Some just showed it in smaller ways than others.”

“They could’ve fit the minor details into the other episodes!”

“Yeah, but filler is nice sometimes. Getting some more chill episodes between all the action is good.”

“No way, they’re boring and ruin the pacing. The movies have you on the edge of your seat throughout the whole thing.”

Zane sighed, glancing over at Jay and Lloyd. Their argument was getting increasingly more physical, with each boy attempting to tower over the other- not an easy task, considering they were both short.

“Can you two please be quiet? Or at least take this somewhere else? I’m trying to watch the news to make sure there aren’t any danger reports in Ninjago City.”

Jay suddenly whirled on him. “Zane! That’s it!”

“...What’s it?”

“Zane should decide! Which is better? The Starfarer movies, or the show?” Turning to Lloyd, he added, “Since he’s a nindroid, he’ll be the least biased of all of us.”

“One problem,” Lloyd said. “Zane hasn’t watched either.”

“Well, then, he’ll have to watch them,” Jay shrugged.

Zane glanced back and forth between them. “You want me to watch twenty-seven movies. And all seven seasons of the TV show. Just to help you win a disagreement.”

“It’s actually eight seasons,” Lloyd corrected.

“Exactly!” Jay beamed. “You’ll do great. Get back to us when you’ve watched them all and have formed an opinion. The sooner the better, so that I can prove Lloyd wrong as quickly as possible.”

“Hey! If anything, I’m going to prove you wrong!” “No way! The show-”

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it!” Zane stood up suddenly, putting his hands between them before another argument could break out. “Just stop fighting. Please.”

“You got yourself a deal,” Jay winked.

Two weeks and over a hundred hours of content later, Jay and Lloyd were staring at him expectantly over the dinner table.

“Well? What’s the verdict?”

Zane blinked at them with glassy eyes. “They were both very good. I enjoyed them. However, I feel like I never want to watch a minute of Starfarer ever again.”

“Seriously?” Lloyd fumed. “We waited all this time for him to not even properly answer the question?”

“Who cares about the question?” Cole grumbled. “Zane was so tired from watching your guys’ dumb Starfarer stuff, he messed up the gumbo.” Cole drew a spoon listlessly through the stew. “This is my favorite meal. I’m never forgiving you guys for messing it up.”

“Starfarer isn’t stupid,” Jay and Lloyd cried at once. They blinked at each other, surprised, and Kai and Nya laughed.

“I think that’s the first thing they’ve agreed on all week,” Nya grinned.

“It won’t last,” Kai murmured to her as the green and blue ninja set on Cole for his statement on Starfarer. “I give them two days to find something else to bicker about.”

---

“Hurry, Nya, he’s almost at the navigation!”

“I’m trying!” Nya bit her lip, an iron grip on her video game controller. “He’s sabotaged the security system!”

“No-”

Game over flashed across the screen, and Jay leaped to his feet, cheering. Nya rolled her eyes, tossing down her controller, while Zane, Lloyd, and Kai watched with disappointment.

“I can’t believe he won again,” Kai huffed. “How is he still undefeated? We’ve been playing this game for weeks.”

“I thought you were supposed to be good at this, Lloyd,” Nya grumbled. “You’re the Starfarer expert. You’ve got so many hours logged on here.”

“I’d like to point out that I’ve gotten closer to beating him than any of you have,” he snapped. “The last time I was only seconds away from winning.”

“Yeah, well, close isn’t good enough,” Kai said. “We need to beat him. Otherwise, it will get to his head.”

“Clearly none of us are going to be winning any time soon,” Nya groaned.

“There is someone who hasn’t played against him yet,” Zane mused. “Someone who has a track record of beating Jay’s top scores in games.”

Five gazes drifted towards the chair on the other side of the room. Cole looked up from his book when he realized the others were looking at him. “What do you want this time?”

“You gotta beat Jay in Starfarer: Alien Invasion 3,” Lloyd insisted, at his side immediately. “He’s undefeated. You know how unbearable he gets when he’s cocky.”

Cole blinked slowly up at them. “I don’t know the first thing about Starfarer.”

“I can teach you,” Lloyd begged. “Just do it. Please. Since when have you passed up an opportunity to beat Jay in something?”

Jay grinned. “Admit it, guys, I’ve defeated you. There’s no way Cole will ever win against me.”

Cole stood up abruptly. “Oh yeah? We’ll see about that. Lloyd, give me that controller. Jay’s about to get a serving of humility.”

For what appeared to be just another mundane rendition of a classic monster-fighter game, it surprised Cole to find it was actually much more complex and engaging.

It would’ve actually been really fun, had Jay not been so ridiculously goated at the game.

“What? Your character is invulnerable to the imperial sludge? How is that fair?”

Jay scoffed. “If you had read the Aliens Strike Back arc of Starfarer comics, you would’ve known that.”

“This totally isn’t fair. You have a bunch of background knowledge on Starfarer that I don’t.”

“It’s not our fault you’re the only one who hasn’t read or watched any Starfarer,” Lloyd said.

“Oh no,” Cole groaned. “You guys are dragging me into this too, aren’t you?”

---

“Where’s my copy of issue 117 of Starfarer?”

Jay looked up from the counter, where he was munching on crackers. “Like I would know, Lloyd. It’s not my responsibility to keep track of where you put your stuff.”

“I know exactly where I put it. But it’s gone now! I left it on my nightstand last night, right next to my bed. I haven’t touched it since.”

“Well, evidently, you have, since it’s not there now.”

“No, I didn’t touch it! Someone must’ve moved it!”

“And? I don’t see how this is my problem.”

“Everyone knows you’re the biggest Starfarer fanboy on the team apart from me, and I happen to be aware that you don’t own that particular comic.”

“I didn’t steal your comic, Lloyd.”

“Oh yeah? Then what happened to it?”

“Don’t ask me!” “You know that’s my favorite issue, Jay.”

“So? You think I’d take it just to spite you?”

“I think you’d-”

He cut off as Kai meandered into the kitchen, eating crackers and reading a comic.

Lloyd’s eyes widened. “Hey! That’s my missing comic!”

Kai glanced up at him. “You said I could borrow it.” “I did not! And give it to me, before you get cracker crumbs all over it!”

Kai rolled his eyes as Lloyd snatched it from him. “Alright, fine, take your dumb comic.”

Jay crossed his arms. “I think you owe me an apology, Lloyd.”

Lloyd stuck his tongue out at him, and Jay returned the gesture.

“Hey!” They turned to see Nya strolling into the room behind Kai, elbowing her brother sharply. “You said I could have that comic once you finished it.”

“Seriously, Kai? You can’t go around giving my comic to people without asking.”

“I wasn’t going to give it to her! She’s lying!” “Excuse me? You literally just said that like ten minutes ago-”

Zane and Cole joined them not long after, glancing around. “Guys! What’s with all the racket?”

“Kai promised me his Starfarer comic after he was done-”

“It’s not Kai’s, it’s mine! And he took it from me without asking and just auctioned it off to Nya!” “I didn’t auction off anything, it’s not like she paid me for it. Although, that's honestly not a bad idea…”

“What is this, a monopoly?” Jay asked. “We’re not paying for comics we already own, that’s dumb.”

“Yeah,” Lloyd agreed, “especially when they were mine in the first place.”

“Liar! Most of them were mine!” Jay insisted. “I should get dominion over my own comics!”

“Just because you own the most doesn’t mean you own all of them,” Lloyd countered. “You may have more comics by sheer number, but I have more rare comics than you and, overall, my comics have a higher value.”

“I’m sick of you two always deciding everything about Starfarer,” Cole said. “Why can’t one of us regulate the comics?”

“Whoever gets control over the comics is just going to have bias and distribute them to their advantage.”

“I think I would be the most responsible man for the job-”

“Stop lying to yourself, dirtclod, I’d obviously be better-”

“Better than Kai, yeah, if you’re trying to set the bar low.”

“Excuse me?”

“Guys,” Lloyd interrupted, slamming his fists down on the table. “There’s only one solution to settle this. We have a competition. Winner gets control over the Starfarer comics for… let’s say, the next six months.”

Kai cracked his knuckles, grinning. “You had me at competition.”

---

“When you said, ‘competition,’ somehow I was expecting something a little more grandiose than this.”

The ninja had gathered around the kitchen table, glancing down at the box Lloyd had dropped there. Starfarer: Galaxy Wars, it read.

“Yeah, Lloyd,” Cole agreed. “A board game? Seriously?”

“Not just any board game. The most popular, most difficult, most fun game out there. It is truly for the Starfarer master. Part roleplay, part strategy, part trivia- it puts your Starfarer knowledge to the test. That way, we know whoever wins this didn’t just get the win out of chance, but actually deserves it.”

Nya raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I guess. But you better not be an expert at this game.”

Lloyd shook his head. “I’ve only played it a few times, I promise.”

“Okay then,” Kai said. “May the best ninja win.”

As usual, that lasted about five minutes until they were all yelling at each other.

“Oh, come on!” Cole threw down his card. “I got stuck in the Imperial Sludge Swamp again?”

“Ha!” Jay leaned forward, moving his piece across the board, jumping over Cole’s pawn. “Next time you know to pick a character with better environmental perks.”

“Cole’s character is more well-rounded, though,” Zane pointed out. “If you are unable to gather enough energy before the end, it is likely the aliens will take you out.”

“Quit your yapping and let me take my turn.” Kai snatched the dice from Jay’s hand and tossed them- landing a perfect 12.

“You’re cheating!” Nya snapped. “That’s the third turn in a row you’ve rolled higher than a ten. Are you using weighted dice or something?”

“He’s using the exact same dice I just used, Nya.”

“It’s called skill,” Kai scoffed. “Maybe someday, you can be as good as me.”

“Rolling dice is completely based on chance! If the best skill you can boast is being able to roll high numbers, I think I’m doing pretty well.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see how useless it is once I win this thing and get total control over all the Starfarer comics.”

“Fat chance,” Nya huffed as Kai moved his piece.

“Oh, look at that, I found a pile of scrap metal! I get to roll again!”

“Are. You. Kidding me!”

“Wait,” Zane put a hand on Nya’s shoulder. “He’s right by the alien spaceship. If he gets an 11 or less, he’ll be on their turf and they’ll shoot him down, kidnap him, or confront him, depending on his stats. The only way he could possibly get through this without negative consequences is by rolling a 12.”

“There’s no way he’ll do it again,” Cole agreed. “Nya, this is your chance to overtake him.”

“Let’s see.” Kai grabbed the two dice and shook up his hands. He shook and shook, stopped to blow on the dice, then shook some more-

“Just roll the stupid dice,” Cole snapped.

Kai dropped the dice, and time seemed to move in slow motion. Lloyd held his breath, leaning forward-

And watched as the dice rolled one six, then another.

A perfect roll.

“Cheating!” Nya cried. “Cheating, I tell you! There’s no way this is possible.”

“We can’t let him win,” Jay groaned. “He won’t share any comics with us.” “Not true! I’ll let Lloyd have one.”

“Only one?” “That’s better than none at all,” Jay snapped. “At least he’s giving you something.”

“He’s not going to be giving me anything, because he’s not going to win.”

Kai grinned, gesturing at the dice. “Sure, be my guest. See if you can beat me.”

Lloyd rolled, earning a seven.

Jay hissed between his teeth. “Tough luck, green bean- you get injured and robbed by aliens.”

“Actually,” Lloyd said, slipping a card from his pile and slamming it down on the middle of the table. “I don’t, because I play this special ability card, allowing me to pick the number of spaces I travel. I choose 10, landing myself on the abandoned spacecraft. Then I use my character’s high level mechanics skills and use this card-” he slammed down another card that showed scrap metal reserves- “to instantly fix the ship. Then I spend my energy points to get another turn, use the gas from my generator to fuel the ship, and then am able to fly the ship back to the base and restore the artifacts. According to the manual, it would take three days from my location, and Kai, the closest, would take five days in his slower spacecraft, meaning it is impossible for anyone to beat me back, and I win the game.”

For a moment, they were silent, gaping at him.

“How?” Cole murmured. “Dude, how did you do that?”

“He just crossed half the board in one turn,” Kai spluttered. “And I was about to win! That shouldn’t even be possible!”

“How many moves were you planning ahead?” Zane shook his head. “Your strategy appears to be far more complex than any of us were anticipating for this kind of game.”

“I knew something was up when he kept stashing his ability cards,” Jay groaned. “We were all using ours, but he hardly used any- he was saving them up to use them all in a big power move and catch us off guard, the little rascal!”

“You liar,” Nya hissed. “You said you only played this game a few times! This was way too complicated of a plan for a novice player.”

“Technically, that’s true,” Lloyd grinned. “I have only played a few times. But I never said how long I played for each time.”

“You conniving little gremlin.”

“Now, Nya,” Lloyd scolded in a sagely voice, barely able to suppress his laughter, “I’d be careful how you speak to me from now on. If you’re rude, I may not give you any Starfarer.”

“Yeah, this is going to get old, very quickly.”

“I can’t believe it,” Jay sighed. “You never share comics with us.”

Lloyd gawked at him. “Are you kidding? It’s because of my sharing that you guys are even into Starfarer in the first place! Jay was the only one who knew about it before I came, but even he didn’t tell anyone else he was a fanboy and kept stuff hidden in boxes. When I showed interest, do you remember how excited you got? You took everything out, just for me.”

Zane shook his head, smiling. “I still can’t believe you got me to binge the entire series.”

“Or how I spent hours investing in that game and tracking down all that information in the comics just to beat Jay’s high score? Which I crushed, by the way.”

Jay scowled. “For the last time, you beat me by five points! You didn’t crush anyone.”

Cole scoffed. “Someone’s just jealous. If it weren’t for Lloyd, I would’ve never beat you.”

“You showed us all something we love, huh, squirt?” Kai ruffled his hair, and Lloyd pulled away, like usual, but grinned at him, bumping his shoulder gently.

“Remember when you used to get all upset at me for slacking off and reading Starfarer comics during training?”

Kai reddened. “That was different! We were preparing you for the Final Battle, there was a lot to be done.”

“Hypocrites,” Lloyd whispered, giggling as he ducked a swing from Kai.

“Well, what are you going to do now, ‘master of the comics?’” Jay asked. “Hoard all the books to yourself? Read in front of us to taunt us?” “Tempting,” Lloyd said, “but I think first, I want to play another round of the Starfarer board game.”

Cole blinked. “Lloyd, it’s seven pm. And this took us like five hours to get through the first time.”

The ninja blinked at each other.

“Oh, it’s on!”

#ninjago #ninbingo #my fic #rosie writes #lloyd garmadon #jay walker #ninjago kai #ninjago nya #ninjago cole #ninjago zane #ahhh this is my last bingo fic! #its been so fun thank you all! #I'm especially grateful for Fabro :) #without this event we might've never been anything more than just acquaintances :) #im so glad we're friends now #luv u bestie #thanks for being so supportive and for hosting this event! #thanks for reading! #reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!

[cherishedproperty]

The Power of Protocol

The biggest difference between the D/s life I imagined and the one I live today is the relative lack of formalized D/s—the rules, rituals, and protocol that signify our power exchange. We have a few rules, of course. But generally, we operate without much formality. I just do what he tells me to do, and that’s that.

I have an interesting relationship with these sorts of formalized D/s. When I first learned about bdsm, the rituals and protocol were part of what turned me off about the lifestyle. I decided I couldn’t be a submissive because those things felt entirely incompatible with who I am and the life I wanted. 

From what I could see, D/s involved rules about things like submissives’ appearance, chores and sexual service to Dominants. I don’t wear makeup or whatever, and I expect my partner to split the chores with me 50/50. I watched my mother struggle with a husband who expected her to do all the housework and be flawless at all times, and that was never going to work for me. And the sexual service I saw just seemed like fantasy. Naked and kneeling every day when your Dominant gets home? I don’t like being cold, and I’ve got things to do. Not to mention the impracticality of it all once you have kids.

But now I see these things differently. I see how these formal parts of D/s are intimate and loving. They aren’t strictly about catering to a Dominant’s whims; they are about purposeful connection through power exchange. Formalized D/s requires constant engagement and re-engagement in the dynamic. It’s an expression of devotion from both partners, with the submissive performing the act and the Dominant acknowledging it. While these things may seem arbitrary from the outside, they are deeply meaningful to the people involved. 

Monsieur and I have talked many times about building more ritual and protocol into our dynamic. Part of me longs to feel the leash held more tightly. It has been a long time since I’ve felt the need to be on point with my behavior. I do follow rules, but they feel more like habit than active submission. And I don’t get the feeling I once did from them—the feeling of smallness and deference and loving confinement. 

A big part of this is our current circumstances. Working from home means we spend a lot of time together that is not “home time.” And instead of having a commute home to help me shift focus, one thing just blurs into the next. Work blurs to family blurs to Netflix blurs to sleep blurs to work... Not to mention struggles with depression and anxiety during the pandemic that have made me need more downtime to recharge. He has expressed concern that additional requirements would only add stress and lead to resentment. He might be right about that. And besides, maybe we aren’t suited to maintain a higher level of protocol on a long-term basis, given everything else in our lives. Perhaps this is the way 24/7 works best for us.

Still, I miss feeling that active, purposeful engagement in the power exchange. I miss feeling his vigilance, looking for those signs of my submission. I miss the tightness of the leash. I miss the clarity of knowing exactly what is expected of me. I miss the accountability. I miss that constant awareness that this is not a normal relationship, that I have surrendered my choices, that I am owned. 

While more rules or protocol may add some stress, maybe that would be outweighed by the calm and connection they bring. Maybe a tight leash would recharge me more than an evening of relaxation. Maybe it would help us discover new ways to connect. Maybe.

#personal #sccwriting

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 27

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut ➻ Word Count: 4.1k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

✧✧✧ act four ➻ part two

​​

When Hongjoong said that you would reconvene the next day to discuss the plans further, you expected it to be quick and easy. Instead, one day turned into six and a half days that consisted of playing a waiting game. No one was allowed on the bridge aside from Seonghwa – even Mingi was told that he couldn’t take his regular post at the captain’s side, which left the bitter taste of curiosity in your mouth. And since you and Seonghwa are on a break from your regular physical activities, you haven’t been able to ask him what the hell is going on because he spends all his time on the bridge talking with Hongjoong because you don’t get to see him. You aren’t bitter or anything – honestly and truly, you aren’t – but it does feel a bit strange to go from sleeping in the same bed as someone every other day and having a certain level of intimacy with them to not even seeing the back of their head for almost a week. The one time you did see Seonghwa, it was so brief that if you had blinked, you would have missed him and the rushed greeting and farewell he gave you on his way to the bridge.

Maybe you are a tad bitter, but only because you would have appreciated a better explanation than the silence you got instead.

Hongjoong’s strange and unexplained delay in conducting his plans led to a spike in stress throughout the crew. You would assume that having this downtime and not having to do anything would be something they enjoy and look forward to, but that’s limited to being able to leave the ship on said downtime. No one has been allowed to set foot off the ship according to a vague order over the ship’s intercoms. Despite the much-needed rest, you have to admit that even you are growing tired of it. You spend your days reading about Sirens in your room, sparring with Jongho or San, or just milling about the ship with little purpose because there isn’t much to do. More quality time spent in each other’s presence isn’t always good though. This whole situation has caused a spike in Wooyoung’s complaints about the food primarily because Jongho has been the only one cooking in Seonghwa’s absence.

“I’m just saying that if you lowered the heat on the stove, maybe the food would be so burnt!” Wooyoung’s voice rings through the mess hall before you even reach the archway leading into the room.

“That’s called flavor, Wooyoung!” Jongho argues back, dark head of hair coming into view as you cross the threshold. You don’t even bother looking over to where the food waits because if Wooyoung is this loud in his complaints already, then it’s worse than usual.

“The eggs are black, Jongho. Black! How do you even manage to do that?” Wooyoung scoffs, leaning back in his seat as he motions down at his plate. Yeosang is at the man’s side as always though he doesn’t engage in the conversation happening before him. He still bears the same cloth sling that he’s been wearing since that explosion in the marketplace. As much as he insists that he’s fine, Yunho continues to make him wear it just to be sure that he won’t tear anything.

And, speaking of Yunho, he’s the first to greet you as you draw closer to the table. He lifts his hand to offer a gentle wave but says nothing more than that because Jongho is still hellbent on getting the last word.

“Look, I don’t appreciate this kind of attack. Your tone is very hostile and accusatory, and I’m not really vibing with it in all honesty.”

You huff out a weak laugh at Jongho’s comment, stepping around the man to sit between Yunho and San when they make space for you.

“I’m not vibing with eggs that look like gravel! We can’t all vibe with what we wanna vibe with!” Wooyoung protests as he slaps his hand against the table. The silverware and plates shudder at the impact, but Jongho remains unblinking, lips drawn into a fierce pout.

“Suit yourself. More for the rest of us!”

“More for you,” Yunho cuts in with a quick shake of his head.

“And only you,” San adds a moment later.

“All of you are cruel. At least I can rely on Y/N to treat me better than this.” Jongho angles his chin towards you, and you resist the urge to look over at him. You’re certain that he’s going to be wearing those damn puppy dog eyes that he’s too good at, and you are more than slightly susceptible to. “Wow, nevermind! She’s not even gonna look at me.”

“Careful, Jongho. She might be cranky. She hasn’t fucked in maybe a week with our dear lieutenant always on the bridge.” Jongho chokes on his coffee, Wooyoung’s eyes all but bulge out of his head, and San coughs to cover the laugh that threatens to breach his lips. Only Yeosang maintains a sense of normalcy, but you can spot the hint of a smirk as he hides behind his coffee mug. You swing an elbow into Yunho’s side, hitting him square in the ribs, and he yelps from the impact. “Ow! Hey, rude!”

“Fuck you,” you huff.

“Oh? Okay, what time? I’ll gladly clear my schedule for some fun.” Yunho props his elbow up on the table and angles his chin to look you in the eye. You glare in response to the teasing gleam there, opting not to give him the pleasure of hearing another response from you.

“Breakfast is always so much fun, isn’t it?” San teases, pulling his arm up to rest on your shoulder.

“Can’t we have one breakfast with Yunho making things about sex?” Wooyoung whines as he slumps forward on the table.

“Why is everyone cranky except for me?” Yunho scoffs. “It isn’t like you all have never had sex, I don’t see what the big issue is! Why can’t I just chat abo–”

“Can it, horndog!” Wooyoung interrupts, and he chucks a wadded up napkin at Yunho’s forehead a moment later.

“Fine! Just remember that one day, I’m gonna stop talking altogether, and you lot are going to regret having ever been mean to me about talking too much.” Yunho purses his lips, drawing his arms up to cross over his broad chest, and Wooyoung shakes his head in response.

“No, no, you idiot! Shut up because someone is present,” he hisses out. His index finger comes up to jab in the opposite direction, and you have to swivel your head to see what exactly he’s pointing at. Yunho does the same, but his expression melts into a neutral one in an instant. Mingi stands at the other side of the room, oblivious to the eyes upon him and as stoic as ever. The talk at the table falls quiet. It’s such a sudden shift that it sends you reeling, especially since you haven’t seen Mingi in the mess hall since – well, you can’t recall ever seeing him here. The tension and discomfort in the air is palpable. You consider breaking the silence, but Yunho’s flitting eyes and Wooyoung’s suddenly stiff muscles convince you not to. Rather, it’s Jongho who cuts through it.

“God, can’t you all act normal around him?” He pushes himself up and turns to where Mingi lingers near the edge of the room.

“I’m confused,” you mutter, shifting your head to look in San’s direction. He looks back at you with lips drawn tight together. They relax after a moment, and San opens his mouth to say something. The words never come out because Jongho interrupts the train of thought with a booming tone that echoes through the hall.

“Hey! Mingi just said he loves my eggs, you rat!” It’s obvious who the comment is directed at, and Wooyoung is quick to respond with an equally loud scoff.

“He is only saying that to make you feel better. He knows how bad they really are!” Wooyoung huffs. You try to relax your shoulders as the hanging tension begins to thin and dissipate. Jongho all but drags Mingi closer to the table where you all sit, but once the pair gets within three feet of you, Mingi halts. Jongho tugs his arm a little to no avail because Mingi still shakes his head and refuses to budge.

“I think… they would feel safer if I stay at this table instead,” Mingi says, tone hesitant. His tongue darts out to drag over his lower lip, and his gaze lands on each person at the table before settling on you. Jongho doesn’t push him any further though and lets Mingi move towards the other table instead. Yunho lets his gaze flit between Jongho and Mingi, watching the silent exchange before huffing out a sigh and standing up himself. He goes to sit beside the taller Berserker without a word and doesn’t bother bringing his food or coffee with him as he drops to the bench, elbows propped up on the edge of the table. He’s almost tall enough to stretch across the space between the tables with his legs alone, and you’re sure that he could if he put in the effort.

You don’t face forward right away. Mingi’s presence looms behind you like a ticking time bomb. Even if the tension is slowly ebbing away, you can still clearly see that everyone is on edge. Maybe it is only because you’ve all been stuck on the ship for so long, perhaps everyone is on edge and tense because of that, but you know that Mingi is an influential factor regardless. It’s suddenly everywhere in the room: in Yeosang’s sharp eyes narrowing on Mingi’s form, Wooyoung’s shifting weight as he glances over at the Berserker every so often, the hand that San inches across the bench to brush against the nape of your back. Jongho and Yunho stay close to Mingi, but it doesn’t seem like a gesture meant to be solely friendly. It looks more like a blockade than anything else. The way Yunho stretches his legs out to cover more distance, his body facing towards your table rather than the opposite way, and Jongho finding a statuesque position evenly between the tables with arms pressed firmly against his hips.

It isn’t necessarily Mingi or his aura that makes you uncomfortable and tense. It’s the crew’s reaction to his presence in the mess hall that does that. Normal conversation slips back in, though it doesn’t help to ease the discomfort churning in your gut.

“What the hell is taking Hongjoong and Seonghwa so long anyway?” Wooyoung asks, slumping over the table after pushing his plate of unfinished food out of the way. “It’s been a week. What kind of plans are they making for a week?”

“Big ones?” San offers with a half-smirk stretching his lips.

“Haha, you’re so funny, San. Have I ever mentioned that? How funny you are? Because you’re fucking hilarious.” Wooyoung doesn’t try to hide the overexaggerated roll of his eyes.

“In all seriousness though, I have no idea. They could be playing a waiting game, just like the rest of us.”

“A waiting game for what?” Wooyoung shifts a bit in his seat. Yeosang glances over in his direction and seems to pick up on something that no one else does because he pushes closer to the dark-haired man until their shoulders rub against each other. The simple touch releases some of the tension in Wooyoung’s shoulder in a fraction of a second.

“Given where we are, it would be no surprise if they needed to wait like the rest of us,” San explains through a sigh. “Especially with what happened the last time you were out and about in the city.” If you didn’t already know what San is referring to, you would be able to tell just from the way Wooyoung and Yeosang look at one another, eyes sad to a degree, and Wooyoung pushes a hand back to brush against the one that hangs out of Yeosang’s sling.

“It’s been a long time since Hongjoong was this patient,” Jongho notes as he finally takes his eyes off Mingi. “Do you think something happened?”

You know why he’s patient all of a sudden. The reason is you. Your identity as a Siren, your revelation to him a little over a week ago, and the fact that Hongjoong has two Sirens in his grasp rather than just one. You can’t very well come out and say that however; you don’t need the rest of the crew treating you like anything less or more than what you are. Nor do you need them doubting your abilities all of a sudden like Seonghwa did (another thing you aren’t bitter about in the slightest). If it were up to you, you would make sure that none of them found out. The underlying need to be appreciated and wanted for who you are rather than what you are outweighs the desire to explain Hongjoong’s patience.

“I’ve got no clue.” San shrugs, casting Jongho an uninterested glance before returning to his coffee.

“Being on Kebos sucks ass.” Wooyoung huffs air through his nose, but the sound is masked entirely by a sudden clatter behind you. San’s grip shifts to your hip and squeezes tight before he turns around. It’s a split second shift, and the tension spikes tenfold. Wooyoung claps his hand over his mouth, eyes growing impossibly wide. You dare to turn with the rest and stare directly at Mingi. The sight before you, however, is an entirely normal one.

Mingi sits in the same position as before. He hasn’t even budged. You wouldn’t be able to tell that something is wrong if not for the next words that come out of his mouth.

“We’re on… Kebos?” It isn’t clear who he is talking to because he keeps his chin dipped to his chest.

“No! Uh, I just meant that — I was thinking about it. We were talking about it. Earlier!” Wooyoung exclaims as he drops his hand to the table. That turns out to be a mistake, however; he releases a cry of pain the second his hand connects with the metal, pulling away and cradling the limb to his chest. Yeosang lunges to shield Wooyoung from view, but he doesn’t move fast enough thanks to the awkward position at the table and one of his arms being out of commission. There’s a flash of crimson trickling down Wooyoung’s arm. Yeosang’s weight slams into Wooyoung, and the two topple off the bench and thrash a little before hitting the ground at a painful angle. Wooyoung takes the brunt of the impact, Yeosang falling on top of him with a grunt.

When you glance down at the table again, there’s a knife beside Yeosang’s plate, one that has the same shade of crimson as Wooyoung’s arm coating the blade. It isn’t difficult to figure out what happened. San notices the knife the exact moment you do. He jerks and stretches across the table to knock it off the edge, and the blade clatters a few times before skidding across the metal floor. You don’t dare move a muscle. San leans closer to you, lips grazing the shell of your ear as he turns back to Mingi.

“Move to the other side of the table,” he mutters. “Don’t make any sudden movements.” You’re tempted to nod, but the warning in San’s tone prevents you from even doing that much. So instead, you slide across the bench as slowly as possible to do as asked.

“Hey, Mingi,” Jongho starts. From your new position, you can clearly see what was going on, and Mingi’s gaze is firmly fixated on the spot where the bloodied knife just sat. “How’s the weather up there?”

Mingi doesn’t respond. His hands are trembling in his lap without cease, and even as San slides to block his line of sight, he remains stuck in place.

“Mingi…” Yunho stretches a hand towards the Berserker. He barely makes contact with the man’s shoulder, but it triggers a visceral response in Mingi. The speed he moves with is almost a blur. Next thing you know, Mingi has Yunho sprawled on the floor with his hands straining around the healer’s neck. “F-Fuck. Jongho, ge–” Mingi cuts the words short by squeezing tighter.

“Mingi, can you hear me?” Jongho asks, stepping closer to where Mingi has Yunho pinned. He moves slowly still, no rush or panic in his steps or tone. “Mingi.”

“Y-Yes, yes. Yes, I can – I can hear you.”

“Can you still move your hands?”

“Not re… no, yes. I can.” Mingi’s fingers flex around Yunho’s neck. He relieves some of the pressure on the other man, letting him gasp in deep breaths of air.

“You need to let go of Yunho.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“No! No, I can’t. They–”

“You’re hurting him, Mingi,” Jongho murmurs, squatting beside the pair. He doesn’t reach out to touch Mingi the way Yunho did, but he doesn’t need to. Mingi listens, understands, and slowly but surely his grip on Yunho’s neck alleviates until it’s gone altogether.

“I-I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to — I wasn’t trying t–”

“It’s okay, Mingi.” Jongho drops a hand to Mingi’s shoulder at last. This time, Mingi sits still and lets himself sink into the touch. Jongho tugs him ever so gently off Yunho, allowing the older man to roll out from under Mingi’s weight and get to his knees further away from Mingi. “Can you stand up?”

“Yeah… yeah, I can.”

“Cool, let’s get up then, yeah? We can talk somewhere quieter.”

The silence in the room is suffocating, so you aren’t what on earth he means by that, but Mingi just nods in agreement and pulls himself to his feet. Jongho’s hand remains clenched around his shoulder. There’s too much pressure around his knuckles for it to merely be a comforting touch; it’s a secure and robust grip, one that keeps Mingi in check as Jongho guides him out of the mess hall without even looking back. You aren’t sure how much time passes, but no one moves for a long time after both Berserkers leave. Yunho’s chest heaves as he reaches up to rub at the reddened skin around his throat. Wooyoung and Yeosang are still on the floor behind you, both sitting up now, and San remains rigid like a statue in his seat across the table.

“Wooyoung, let me look at your hand,” Yunho says after a long while, voice a bit raspy. Wooyoung scrambles to get to his feet and meet Yunho halfway.

“I-I’m sorry. I forgot. I know I wasn’t supposed to say anything but I–”

“It’s not your fault, Woo,” Yunho murmurs as he pulls Wooyoung’s hand away from his chest and examines the cut on his palm. “He was doing well until I touched him so… the blame falls on my shoulders as well.” A sigh escapes him. “You won’t need stitches, but I need to clean it and dress it. Head to the medbay; I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. Yeosang, you can go with him.”

“You aren’t coming right away?” Wooyoung inquires, head tilting to the side in echo to his question.

“I need to tell Hongjoong what happened.” Yunho brings a hand up to his pale hair and runs his long fingers through the locks, eyes squeezed shut for several seconds.

“Y/N and I can do that, Yunho,” San interrupts. He motions to where you’re sitting, and the sudden attention has you straightening your back and nodding a few times. “Take care of Wooyoung and yourself first.”

You expect some sort of denial from Yunho, but one glance at Wooyoung has him nodding in agreement before leading the way out of the mess hall. You and San are suddenly very alone in the large room. The weight of what just happened begins to sink in, one thing nagging at the forefront of your mind more than anything else.

Mingi apologized. Not just a half-assed emotionless apology either. His tone held guilt, and it was clear that he genuinely felt back about nearly choking Yunho to death.

“Hey…” San is suddenly at your side, hand rubbing between your shoulder blades, and you jerk your head to look up at his face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you agree quickly.

“That’s not a pretty sight, I know.”

“I’ve never seen something like… that. Fights, sure. But t-that was so–”

“Sudden?”

“Exactly,” you confirm through a sigh. With a small shake of your head, you push up from the table and step over the bench to stand beside San.

“Mingi is a hand grenade with a hairpin trigger, but he isn’t that way intentionally. He is trying to get better. We have good days and bad days with him, then we have days like today. Rough but productive. There was a time when Mingi wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Yunho, and there was a time when he couldn’t even be in the same room as us.” San offers a shrug before motioning to the other end of the mess hall opposite the doors Yunho and the others left out of.

“So, this is normal or…?” You trail off before finishing the question, staying close to San’s side as he leads the way to the bridge.

“Yeah, you could say that. I know it’s not something that you’ve gotten the pleasure of seeing or witnessing, but this has happened several times since you joined the crew.”

“He didn’t want to hurt Yunho,” you note in a quiet tone.

“Of course, he didn’t. He never wants to hurt anyone, especially not anyone on the crew. He wants to have a reason to hurt someone before doing so. He has no qualms with hurting or killing someone who hurts one of us first. Or even threatens us for that matter.” San hesitates to look down at you. “Mingi is a lot like you and me in actuality. He has these ghosts of the past that haunt him. A guilt he’s grown into and a burden on his shoulders. The person he used to be isn’t the person he wants to be now. Unlike us, however, he doesn’t have the luxury of knowing and understanding his own emotions. He was conditioned to ignore them and block them out. Robbed of basic knowledge on how emotions work. So he has a harder time because he has to relearn what it means to feel things. It’s one thing to kill and feel nothing, but another to kill and not understand why you’re in pain.”

“Then he had a visceral reaction to hearing that we’re on Kebos because of what? Since this is where he was born and raised? Or because he feels like he’s being forced back?”

“Part of him fears that he’ll be the same person he used to be, and that being on Kebos will reawaken that part of him. Or that he won’t be able to hold the voices back and turn back into the monster he used to be.”

“The voices?” You glance at San out the corner of your eye.

“Yeah, like flashbacks but without the visual hallucinations.” San cracks a small smile.

“I know what you mean by voices, smartass. I was asking about what he hears.”

“I know, I know. He hears the cheering from the arena most of the time. Cries for blood and death. Other times he will hear his master’s voice telling him to kill. But from what I understand, it’s constant. They never leave him alone, even when he’s asleep.” San comes to a halt, and it’s only when you glance forward that you realize you’ve made it to Hongjoong’s office. There’s a faint din coming from inside, rapidly exchanged words that you can’t make out, but you’re certain that it’s Seonghwa and Hongjoong. San knocks his knuckles against the door several times. The voices fall silent, then the sound of Seonghwa clearing his throat breaches the door. Three seconds later, the door slides open to reveal the dark-haired lieutenant. He looks like he hasn’t slept a single day in the whole week that has passed since you saw him last, but you don’t have time to dwell on that fact because San is already speaking on your left.

“Mingi had an episode in the mess hall.”

✧✧✧ a/n: okay ngl i feel like this chapter is a bit of a mess so im sorry for that ;-; i couldn’t get a chance to sit down and write it in one sitting and make everything as cohesive as i wanted and i ended up cutting some bits so that i could shift them into the next chapter instead so we’re left with this hot mess 😭

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#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #hongjoong #seonghwa #yeosang #yunho #wooyoung #san #jongho #mingi #mists of celeste #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez wooyoung #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez angst fluff smut #ateez series #ateez pirates #ateez space pirates #mingi x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yeosang x reader

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

afterhours

request: Spencer x reader where the reader is apart of the bau and has a huge crush on Spencer. The first time she invites him to her apartment he notices she has a guitar. He asks her to play something and she plays “after hours” by the velvet underground. She finishes singing/playing and they kiss?

for: @thatsonezesty13

word count: 1,847                                                                                     reading time: 7 mins

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Within the last month, the BAU has received nothing less of unpalatable and bestial cases that comprised of multiple homicides, kidnappings, and dead children. It was safe to say that the entire team was mentally and physically drained from all the tragedies we’ve encountered. So with the approval of Hotch, the rest of the team gathered together for their monthly bar get together, leaving only me and Spencer to our own. 

Alcohol was never my vice when it came to downtime; music was. No matter how gruesome a case would be, it was always the calming sensation of the strings hitting my fingers that solaced my mind. 

Since the team had already left, I was left to drive Spencer home considering his license had gotten suspended from him speeding to get to a physics and engineering convention, also known to me as the nerd convention. 

We were walking to my car in the parking lot when the sky began to weep, completely drenching the both of us in cold water. The crisp air of the night didn’t ease the incommodious feeling in the slightest as the material of my blouse glued onto the surface of my skin.  

“Shit” I cursed, looking over to Spencer as he reciprocated the same harsh and fatigued expression I wore on my face. He nodded in agreement lifting his satchel above his head while the both of us practically bolted to sides of my car. 

We chuckled as we stared at one another, our hair slicked back and tousled at different angles. “Hey, do you mind if I stay at yours tonight?” Spencer asked, narrowing his eyes at me in reluctance. “I wouldn’t want to intrude, it’s just that the drive is farther away and I wouldn’t want to be a burden a-” He rambled. 

“That’s- you’re okay Spence, of course you can” I reassured, reaching over my shoulder to attach my seat belt. But truth be told, anxiety ran through my veins like cold blood. It would be the first time Spencer would be stepping into my apartment despite him being one of my closest friends. 

I sucked in a breath as I turned the engine on, hoping that I remembered to clean up before I left. 

-

The drive home was comprised of listening to Broadway musicals while belting our voices until our esophagus’ burned like a shot of liquor. Any time I spent with Spencer felt like an all time high, even when working burdensome cases, if Spencer was beside me, everything felt like things were in place. 

As we climbed up the few flights of stairs to my apartment, I fumbled around in my bag searching for the keys to the front door. Although that was quite a difficult task to complete, thanks to the sweat that had accumulated on my palms. 

“You alright Y/L/N?” 

“I’m okay Spence, I just-” I picked through the pockets of my jacket, desperately wanting to feel metal. “Just- can’t seem to find- there we go”. Fortunately the keys were located in the back pocket of my pants and I was able to let the both of us in. “I’m sorry about that” I apologized, brushing the hair out of my face in embarrassment.

Spencer nodded in assurance, swinging me a soft smile as he ventured throughout my apartment. “Great place you got here Y/N” He complimented, running his hands through the books I had stocked on my bookshelves. 

“Thank you” I chuckled, a blush forming on my cheeks as I felt him judge the selection of genres I had displayed. “I know it’s not your usual science fiction, but-” I explained. 

“No, it’s fine Y/N. I find it kinda cute actually” He laughed, picking up my copy Pride and Prejudice. “It’s actually better than Morgans, but to be fair he doesn’t even remotely have anything indicating a book” He teased, sifting through more of my collection. 

I chuckled at his comment while hiding the blush that resurfaced on my cheeks as he complimented my taste. “You can make yourself at home, I’ll go see if there’s anything that fits you” I gestured to the whole of my apartment, making my way to my bedroom in a hurry to catch my composure. 

As I arrived, I practically jumped out of my damp clothes and changed into my pjs. I then combed through my drawers to find anything large enough for Spencer until landing on a large over sized shirt I used to wear when I was in college. Fixing myself up, I walked back into the living room. “Hey Spence, it may be a little small but-” I was cut off by the sight of Spencer holding my guitar between his hands. 

“I’m sorry, I-i just didn’t know you played” Spencer explained, keeping the guitar close to his chest. Despite his apprehension, it was quite an unforgettable sight seeing Spencer’s long fingers stretched out along the neck of the guitar as his fingertips strummed the strings lightly. Warmth radiated in my chest as I thought of unspeakable things; things that an individual shouldn’t think about their best friend. “I-it’s fine, I j-just. I don’t know, I play here and there” I confessed, rubbing my elbow as I stepped closer to him. 

“You should play me something?” He suggested, pushing the guitar in my directions. Although I immediately declined, feeling nausea run up my throat at the idea of embarrassing myself in front of Spencer. 

“I-i don’t know Spence, I’m not even that good” I shook my head in disagreement, hoping he’d drop the subject. 

“Come on Y/N, I’m sure you’re amazing” He consoled, gently wrapping his hand around my wrist, pulling me towards him and the instrument. I shook my head once again, pulling against his grip in deviance. 

“Pleaseee Y/N?” He begged, looking at me with soft eyes. I finally gave in as he peered into me. The softness of his skin and the warmth of his eyes pushing me to admit defeat. 

With a groan, I settled next to Spencer, witnessing him cross his legs in a childlike matter as he faced me with excitement. I giggled at his antics, smiling at him as I laid the guitar between my hands. 

With a calming breath, I steadied myself in my seat and began to strum the chords to one of my favorite songs. The melody of ‘Afterhours’ by the Velvet Ground permeated both mine and Spencer’s ears. I carefully observed the changes in Spencer’s macro-expressions, hoping to not identify any signals of disgust, considering that the first verse was up ahead. 

I got a hold of my composure and let the lyrics flow out of my lips as if it was natural. The entire time as I sang, I felt the intensity of Spencer’s scrutiny, afraid that he was going to run away and never talk to me again. But he did the opposite, he sat beside me as if he was invested in my performance wearing a cheeky grin. 

With every phrase that transpired out of my mouth that pertained to affection, I knew that a small part of myself sang it soulfully to Spencer. Although another part told myself of the reality of the situation; that Spencer might not even acknowledge my exponentially growing attraction towards him.  

After feigning some confidence, I looked straight into his eyes as I sang, watching the hazel hue shift from light to dark as the moonlight reflected off of them. Throughout the entire event, he wore the same giddy expression, smiling at me as if I were the love of his life. 

Or so I wished I was

With the song coming to an end, I strummed the last few chords prolonging the whole thing to provide myself time to prepare for Spencer’s judgement. Finally, I halted, placing the guitar next to me awaiting Spencer’s reaction. 

To my surprise, nothing was said or done from his part. I sighed, running my hand through my hair, “You hated it, I told you” I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. I refused to look at him now, knowing the shame I’ve brought onto myself. 

Suddenly, I felt two warm hands plant themselves on my wrists, wrapping around them tenderly. Spencer placed himself between my legs as he pulled me close to him. I could feel his breath fanning over my cheeks as he kneeled in front of me. 

My heart began to race at the speed of a NASCAR race, my hands began to twitch and shake while my throat became as dry as a desert. I licked my lips as a habit, taking notice of the supple skin that covered Spencer’s lips. 

Oh how I would love to know how those would feel against mine

“Y/N that- that was amazing” He professed, staring into my eyes. 

I shook my head in denial, not believing a single word that came out of his mouth regardless of the lack of distance between us. “You’re only saying that because you’re my friend” I countered, feeling my throat tighten up. “I’m probably as bad as my choice in genres” I joked in attempt to lighten up the air and escape from the event that was taking place. 

“No Y/N, I’m serious” Spencer retorted, his tone filled with nothing but encouragement and praise. “You have a real talent there Y/L/N” He whispered, glancing down at my lips in the process. 

I reciprocated his actions, feeling the butterflies erupt in my stomach with how his eyes gazed into my own. Slowly we moved closer towards each other, his hand reaching up to comb my hair to the side. 

“Spence-” I interrupted shyly, my words faltering as the distance between us began to diminish. The objects in the room also became nonexistent to me, feeling the weight of the presence of only me and Spencer in the room. 

“Ca-can I?” Spencer asked, flashing me a loving look. I nodded in affirmation, not being able to form proper words.  

With that Spencer caressed the side of my cheek as he pulled me into him. Our lips collided, moving in careful unison as we studied each other’s movements. We both pulled away, our cheeks tinted red, but our eyes were still interlocked with one another. With a boost of confidence, I grabbed his face and pulled him in for another kiss, this time, lingering slightly longer than the kiss we previously shared. 

Pulling away, I giggled in disbelief. My mind had a difficult time processing what had occurred. Smiles crept up on both of our lips as Spencer wrapped an affectionate arm around my waist. “I-i, um” I staggered over my words. “I don’t know what to do now” I laughed nervously, causing Spencer to lean over and place a chaste kiss on my nose. 

“How about you let me take you out on date?” Spencer suggested, pressing another kiss to my forehead. I closed my eyes feeling his skin touch mine as ardor coursed through my entire body. 

“I think that’s a great idea” I agreed, pulling him close to me. 

-

A/N:

and writing It ‘Should’ve Been You Pt. 2′ commences ;)

#spencer reid imagines #spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid icons #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer x oc #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler imagines #matthew gray gubler imagine

[talkfastromance4]

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

**copyright listed below

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

Word count: 27.1k

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

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Enjoy! :) feedback is always welcomed

• • • •

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell. Me,” Ashton says fiercely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wanted to; you had a rough week.”

“It’s only Tuesday,” she giggles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I missed you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What wrong idea is that?”

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

 ***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sir?” Paco answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You—”

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

“Is she one of Rozhkov’s—”

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

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

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

Her small sniffle pulls him from his thoughts.

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” she begs breathlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be right back, angel.”

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

***

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

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

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

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

“Find everything okay?” he asks politely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long have you been with them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes sir,” Michael nods.

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

“I’m sorry, I was—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

“Mike, you know the rules—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No. Should I have him come upstairs?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do I look?” he asks.

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

“Handsome as ever.”

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Two spoons.”

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

“Thank you, it’s perfect.”

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

“How did you sleep?”

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

Ashton notices her shy demeanor is back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How can she be so effortlessly beautiful?

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

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

Ashton curses himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can—”

“Please, just…five minutes, Ashton.”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is Nadia.”

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

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

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

“Thank you,” she replies politely, nonetheless.

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

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

“You’ve been spying on me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where do you want my lips?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” she mumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Popcorn?”

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

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

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

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

“How so?” he grinned.

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

“Are you making observations?”

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

“For what?”

“Figuring out your job.”

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

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

“I do trust you, remember?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t want to leave Nadia alone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if she says no?”

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

“No…should I have?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why’s that a bad thing?”

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

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

“Oh. Would I be here by myself?”

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

“How long would you be gone?”

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

“What’s that option?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?”

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

“I can have that arranged, Nadia.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My own Barbie Dream Closet, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then just kill me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He wants Nadia.”

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

“What does he want with her?”

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

“What does this anonymous dealer plan to do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What for?”

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

“But Nadia’s all right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, he is back, then?”

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

“Nadia?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pick any seat,” he tells her quietly.

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

“My passport—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You should go to sleep.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s up?” Nadia asks.

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

Nadia laughs softly and considers Asana’s suggestion.

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

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

“What if he does get mad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re going to that club.”

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

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

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

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

“Si, si! Divertitevi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s Nadia’s turn to blush.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, I—”

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” she sighs quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s gorgeous!”

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

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

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

“Seems like you didn’t really want it to fit,” she giggles then pulls his arms off his chest. “How can I ever thank you for this?” Her hands move to his belt already undoing the buckle and snatching his zipper, falling to her knees.

“Seems like you already have an idea,” he grins enjoying the view of her breasts even more at this angle.

“Just a little thought,” she shrugs shucking his trousers off his hips. She takes him in her palm, he’s hot and heavy in her hand and she gives the head of his dick the gentlest kiss, but it spurs his member to life. She continues to give him soft, wet kisses, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

Ashton strokes his fingers across her cheek trying to keep his breathing even. “Don’t tease me, angel,” he sighs just as she darts her tongue over his slit. “Fuck, baby.”

He watches her open her mouth, eyes still on him, as she takes him in. Her tongue and lips are soft and warm around him as she swirls her tongue up and over his shaft. She works him over, salivating the more she takes him into her mouth until he hits the back of her throat for the smallest second before she tightens her lips on his shaft and pulls off him with a pop. A string of spit clings to her lips and Ashton is aching to be in her mouth again.

“So pretty like this,” he sighs as she wraps her lips around his head again. This time she sucks him into her mouth as she goes down, slightly gagging as he hits the back of her throat once more before she pulls off again. Ashton threads his fingers in her hair, halting her from moving forward. “Don’t strain yourself for me, okay?”

“I want to make you feel good, sir,” she blinks and Ashton groans. She knows what calling him does that to him.

“You always make me feel good. Don’t hurt yourself, Nadia. Keep going,” he nods.

Nadia smiles excitedly latching her puckered lips over his tip, her hand grasping the base that is now slick with her spit. Her hand and mouth work in tandem, sliding up and down effortlessly slurping as she goes. Ashton steadies his breathing keeping his climax at bay so he can enjoy his Nadia this way. His fingers are still in her hair but he’s giving her full control of the situation.

She takes him all the way to the back of her throat for a third time, her tongue clicking against him. The pulsation has his stomach clenching and he’s so close.

“C’mere,” he says gruffly pulling her off him. He spins her around, so she’s seated at the edge of his desk and hooks her leg over his waist sinking into her swiftly. He fucks into her with quick snaps of his hips, groaning against her neck.

She gasps in time with his thrusts, arms and legs wrapping around him like a vine as he fills her with the utmost pleasure. Ashton bites into her neck, sucking on the warm flesh until she’s screaming his name and they’re coming together. He stills inside her as he releases himself dry and her legs fall limp against the desk.

Ashton hums pulling his mouth from her neck that now has a dark bloom flourishing from his love bite. He cradles her cheeks in his hands, nudges his nose against hers then kisses her with a smile. He pulls out of her slowly, Nadia groaning as he does.

“See? Felt so good,” he sighs, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” she whispers on his lips, legs trembling from the loss of his girth. He tucks himself back into his pants as she leans against him, still coming down from their shared pleasure.

Ashton makes sure she’s stable against the desk before retrieving a towel from the sink along his wall. He wets it then makes his way over to her again to clean between her legs. He kisses her bare shoulder as he does, her hand rests on his shoulder for balance.

“Good thing you didn’t have panties on,” he commends on the corner of her mouth. He tosses the towel on his desk, rubbing his palm on her inner thigh.

“I planned it,” she smiles.

When their dinner date is over Ashton speeds to The King’s Club, his hand on Nadia’s knee as he drives to the destination. He’s second guessing gifting her with this dress because now all eyes will be on her. He holds her hand as they walk past the black velvet ropes and two bouncers that he recognized from his past. They let him in easily and others inside guided him and Nadia to the second floor where Liam is waiting on a white couch. Veronica is next to him looking bored.

To Ashton’s surprise, Calum and Asana are sitting on chairs beside him. Nadia smiles at them tugging a preserved Ashton over to them, his eyes are on Liam who is smiling widely.

“You made it!” he announces rising from his couch. “Last minute I invited Calum and Asana who just finished informing me that you two had dinner plans. I hope I didn’t cut into that.”

“Just a little,” Ashton responds tersely. Nadia squeezes his hand.

“It’s no trouble,” she speaks up.

Liam steps forward grabbing her elbow and kisses her cheek affectionately in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it. Please, take a seat, take a seat. What would you like to drink?”

When the acquired drinks are served, Ashton watches Liam very closely as he interacts with Nadia. He’s somehow pulled her next to him on the couch with his arm thrown casually behind her shoulders. He’s telling her about how he and Ashton bonded over the loss of their fathers and all the wild things they got into.

Ashton watches on high alert, his drink held carelessly in his fingers. He feels smug when Liam notices the love mark on Nadia’s neck. Calum and Asana’s gazes are set on their boss wondering how he is so calm while Liam is so close to Nadia. Ashton assesses the situation with a tight jaw but Nadia’s constant smiles at him lets him know she’s fine.

Calum and Asana are getting restless. Then when Liam laughs loudly at something Nadia said, his hand falls to her knee, Ashton slams his drink on the glass table.

“I think it’s time for us to use the bathroom,” Asana says grabbing Nadia’s hand. “We’ll be back gentleman.” She throws a look between Ashton and Liam tugging Nadia along.

Ashton gives Asana a look of gratitude and appreciates Nadia’s hand cupping his chin as she walks by. Her simple touch eased his irritation slightly. He knows she’ll be safe with Asana but nods his head to the guards that accompanied him here and they followed the girls. Liam watches the small party leave to the VIP bathroom then moves to sit on the table in front of Ashton. Calum leans forward wanting to be a part of the conversation.

“What are we doing here, Liam?” Ashton asks bored, he wants to get Nadia home and away from Liam.

“I know Aleks wants to get Nadia,” Liam starts. “Veronica found that out for me and I think we should let her take him.”

In a light of blinding rage, Ashton launches at Liam, his fist connecting with flesh as the sound of glasses shatter to the table and floor. Shouts of surprise are heard all around and Calum pulls on Ashton’s shoulders yanking him off before he could do worse damage.

“Not with Nadia here,” Calum hisses and that’s what really stops Ashton. Liam rubs his jaw where Ashton hit him, but he doesn’t seem surprised that he was hit.

“Listen to me,” Liam growls standing close to Ashton. Calum tightens his hold on Ashton’s arms. “I have the best trackers with the best equipment. We give Nadia a tracker and follow her to wherever Aleks is.”

“I don’t want her involved in any of this.”

“What have you been telling her all this time? You’ve been lying to her for how long, Ashton? She needs to know the life she’s wrapped up in and that she’s the key to stop it. I’ve seen the reputation you’ve built here and Aleks has been threatening that since Nadia has come into your life. She needs to know.”

“Tanya knew and look what happened,” Ashton blurts before he really thinks of his words.

Liam’s eyes flash and he rushes at Ashton. They’re both scuffling on the floor of the suite while others try to get the men away from each other. Calum shouts them away though because they need to solve their differences in their own way. There’s so much history and discord between the old friends it needs to be hashed out. He won’t let it get too ugly and he hopes Asana is keeping Nadia occupied in the bathroom while the situation plays out.

After a tiresome ten minutes, Liam and Ashton are left panting on the floor. Their suits are ruffled, their hair tousled, and their knuckles bruised but their five years of hurt and anger have finally come forth.

“Nadia is safer not knowing,” Ashton sighs standing to his feet. He holds his hand out to Liam who takes it as help. “I’m so sorry about what happened to Tanya. I wanted to tell you five years ago but you left before I could even try and help you.”

“I know…but my whole world ended that day. I had to get out. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“How is letting her get taken going to keep her safe? You know what Aleks wants to do before he sends her off to this anonymous dealer?”

“She will be safe because Veronica is a double agent. She’s been getting into Aleks’ good graces for over a year.”

Veronica appears beside Liam and hands him a napkin to clean the blood from his face. He takes it graciously.

“Then why don’t you lead him to wherever Aleks is?” Ashton asks her. “Why does Nadia need to be the pawn?”

“Aleks is all about his power trip. He has to believe he’s the one in control right now because whoever this anonymous dealer is, has him scared,” Veronica explains. “He’s on a time crunch and if he doesn’t deliver, he’ll be killed. He won’t hurt her because we won’t give him the time to.”

Ashton glances between Liam and Veronica, Calum calls his name. Ashton turns and Calum waves his fingers signaling Ashton to follow him to the railing.

“Excuse me,” Ashton says then meets Calum.

“How can we trust Veronica? Or Liam, actually,” Calum asks glancing at the pair.

“Liam may have left but he’s never lied to me.”

“It’s been five years, Ashton. You of all people should be questioning if he’s not really working for Aleks. For all we know, he could be.”

“Tanya was the whole reason he walked away from this, and if…if Nadia knew what I do, and she asked me to leave…I wouldn’t question it. I’d leave this all behind.”

“So, you’re seriously considering having her taken, just like that?” Calum is baffled at his friend, his boss, giving in so quickly and releasing Nadia to the lion’s den.

“No, not just like that. I want every detail. I know Liam left, but he came back and is offering to help. Family is family, Cal, you know this.”

Calum eyes Liam and Veronica some more than stares at Ashton for a long time. Nadia is going to have a field day at the state he’s in wondering what the hell happened while she was in the bathroom.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Calum shakes his head surveying the situation.

Then the club cracks into darkness and a deafening silence, screams echo throughout the building and Ashton quickly races blindly to the bathrooms. Any sign of trouble and his mind reverts to Nadia. He stumbles with Calum and Liam trying to find their way blindly. The sound of two gunshots and more screams fill the air then he hears Asana’s voice calling for Nadia. Ashton panics, his heart racing.

The three men skid to a stop as the lights power back on, the club fills with the loud bassline as he looks in front of him. Asana is on the floor with a cut on her cheek, Calum is quick to aid her by standing up. He touches her cut cheek delicately.

“What happened?” Ashton asks. “Where’s Nadia?”

“We were coming back out; I was hit and fell to the floor just as the lights went out. I heard Nadia struggling then two shots…” Asana shakes her head looking in the direction Nadia must have left in.

“Veronica—”

“He knows. He knows I knew his plan and he executed it early,” Veronica gasps. “Liam, I swear he told me in confidence it was supposed to be on her opening night.”

“Where is she?” Ashton demands, his fingers shaking because his Nadia was taken right from under his nose.

***

It took Veronica a few hours to pinpoint exactly where Aleks was which resulted in giving him a few hours head start to run with Nadia. Asana didn’t know if the gunshots meant Nadia was harmed or not and it left Ashton uneasy not knowing. She could be hurt or dying and he’s not with her to help.

Aleks took her to Spain which is where Ashton is now killing the few men keeping guard outside an elaborate mansion. He races inside with Veronica’s voice in his ear telling him where to go.

On his way, he takes out more men until he’s in the elevator descending into the basement. He made sure Asana and Calum stayed outside for visuals and had an ambulance and the police on standby. The basement is dimly lit with shelves along the walls filled with bottles of wine. The guards standing inside didn’t even approach him as he stepped inside, they simply watched him pass by.

“You’re right on him, Ashton,” Veronica says in his ear but Aleks isn’t in sight.

“You’ve always been too trusting, Ashton. I knew it would be your downfall.”

Ashton stops dead in his tracks. Stepping into the light from behind a large wine barrel, is his father, Frank Irwin. He smiles cynically.

“Hello, son.”

“What the hell are you doing here? Where’s Aleks?” Ashton is baffled to be looking at his father who left him nearly eight years ago. His hair has thinned and has a few more wrinkles on his face.

“With Nadia, I’m assuming. He was meant to bring her to me like we agreed,” Frank responds moving in front of the barrel. He folds his hands in front of his stomach, Ashton can see the family crest ring is still on his finger.

“It’s you? You’re the anonymous dealer?” Ashton feels like he’s going to throw up from this information.

“Yes, and Nadia is very lovely, isn’t she?”

“Where the hell is she?” Ashton is shouting now advancing to his father. The guards in the room step forward but Frank holds up his hands.

“It’s all right, gentleman. I need to explain to my son here how Nadia is teaching him to be the best boss. Nadia, dear, please come out.”

In horror, Ashton sees Nadia stumble from a closet or room of some sort. In the short amount of time they’ve been apart, her hair has been chopped off to just below her chin. Her beautiful hair that she’s always cherished, and he’s ran his fingers through so many times, is gone. Her face is pale with chapped lips, bruises and cuts are scattered all over her body as the dress he bought her is ripped.

He’s torn between his love and the need to protect her and his anger in realizing she’s been working with his father. His anger wills out and roars inside him.

“Ashton…” she sniffs, tears spilling over her cheeks. “What—”

“Is it true?” he interrupts, voice shaking. “You’ve been working with my father to get to me?”

“What? Ashton, I don’t know who he is—”

“He’s right there!” Ashton shouts pointing to his father. Nadia jumps. “You’ve been fucking with me this whole time under his order, haven’t you? Tell me the truth, Nadia.” He advances towards her, his voice dangerous, and Nadia is visibly shaking at his outburst. He’s never spoken to her like this before.

“Ash…please, believe me. I love you; I would never hurt you and I’ve never met him before in my life.” She’s sobbing, reaching for him but then gasps as a loud bang echoes, and she’s clutching her stomach. Beneath her hands, red blooms in the fabric of her dress.

As if in slow motion, Ashton turns to see Aleks with his gun poised at her from another doorway. Then Liam appears in the elevator and kills Aleks quickly. He’s finally avenged Tanya and his unborn child. Aleks is dead before he hits the ground then the guards jump into action. Ashton and Liam are quick to fend them off, either by injuring them or using their guns until they’re all slumped to the ground.

“Asht—”

Ashton turns around from his most recent casualty in time to see Nadia collapse in a small heap. Frank is laughing behind her.

“She’s right, son. We’ve never met but I arranged for you two to meet. I’ve been a guiding voice in the now late Aleks Rozhkov’s head to egg you on to be a better boss. I thought the continuous chase of her wanting to be taken would flip a switch in you.”

Ashton’s mind is racing with questions and doubts.

“Ash…” Nadia whispers from the floor. Her warm brown eyes are half-lidded as she stares up at him. “Please, I love—”

He knelt beside her immediately because his need to protect her is stronger than his doubts. He helps apply pressure to her wound, and through her blood, he sees the two small condor tattoos on the outside of her wrist, and he’s transported to another time.

“I love this tattoo of yours,” Nadia told him as her fingers daintily traced over the dark ink on his neck. He was in his study at home writing figures down on a pad of paper. “I read that condors mate for life.”

“Is that so?” he asked and pulled her onto his lap. That’s when he noticed the all too familiar looking bandage on her wrist. “What’s this?”

“I got my own birds on me,” she smiled. “I love you, Ashton and I wanted to match this one you have.”

“If I’m a condor bird, then you’re a condor bird, huh?” he grinned taking her hand in his delicately.

“Something like that,” she giggled. “Take it off so you can see.”

Ashton carefully peeled the tape and gauze from her wrist to reveal two birds in flight. One is larger than the other which he’s assuming is meant to be him, and he’s so enamored by the gesture.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s perfect,” he nodded then met her brown eyes. “I love you, so much. You are my soulmate, Nadia.”

He’s kissed those small birds so many times since then and he feels downright idiotic and gullible to believe that she would double cross him. He is too trusting, and he was much too trusting of his father who was never trustworthy in the first place. His trust really is his downfall and it might cost his whole world.

He knows Nadia would never hurt him, and these two birds are proof of that whereas his father has been hurting him his whole life. Nadia’s eyes begin to close and Ashton panics.

“Liam!”

Liam runs to him quickly, sliding on the floor and int the small pool of blood that’s coming from Nadia.

“Shit,” Liam mutters.

“Get her upstairs and to Asana. I’m going to deal with my father.”

Liam rips off the sleeve of his shirt pressing it into the wound. Nadia grunts at the pain trying to keep her eyes open. Ashton touches her cheek the best he can without smearing her own blood on her face.

“I’m sor—”

“Shh, shh, you’re going to be okay. Liam’s going to help and make you better, okay? I’ll see you soon, stay awake for me.”

Liam lifts her carefully into his arms, murmuring a soft “I’ve got you love.” He gives Ashton a look before leaving the basement quickly and then it’s just Ashton and his father.

“How could you do this to me? Is this some kind of sick training session you’ve been instigating for the last eight years?” Ashton asks.

“I’ll admit, I did leave because I would have been stuck in jail well past my dying days. Then I wanted to use this opportunity to build you up to be the best boss there could be. I kept tabs on you, Ashton. You were doing everything right from partying, having women but you were lacking in one major role: being a boss. My leaving was really a chance for you to be great.”

“You left to save yourself. When you were around it was never a family. We protect our own and after you left we finally became a real family,” Ashton says.

“You’ve befriended the authorities and other families that we’ve always held an animosity with. They should all be beneath you.”

“No, we’re equals. I’ve helped with other dangerous mobs in the area and we keep the cities safe instead of stealing from it.”

“You’re abusing your power.”

“I’m utilizing it. There’s a big difference. You’ve hurt a lot of people Frank, me especially and you won’t do that anymore. Your little puppet, Aleks, is now dead and we’ll take down the rest of his Snatchers and whoever else follows him. But your time is over,” Ashton says reaching for his gun.

Frank laughs again.

“Is all of this really because of that girl? You can have hundreds of women, son, that’s the glory of being in this business! You take what you want when you want it.”

“No, that’s not how this business works. It may have been for you, but not me. I won’t leave my men or women behind. I have their back and they have mine.” Ashton raises his gun and clicks it; it’s aimed right at Frank’s head.

“I can keep teaching you to be better, how to be feared. You’ll really kill your own father?”

“I never had a father.”

He pulls the trigger and Ashton turns not even willing to spare his father another glance. He knows he’s dead, he has an excellent kill shot but he couldn’t look at the man who’s hurt him for so many years. He trudges to the elevator, eyes glued to the blood smear on the button as he ascends up. Ashton thought it hurt when he left but the fact that he used Nadia to try and hurt him? Nadia, the one person who loves him so completely and….

Ashton slams his palm against the elevator wall in anger. She’s been loving a liar this whole time because he’s kept so many secrets from her. Her blood on his hands is the last he’ll ever have, it’s because of him she’s hurt when he’s fought so long to prevent that from happening.

His mind is still reeling as he steps outside of the house in the blazing sun. An ambulance is parked near the cars he and the rest travelled in. Police sirens are heard from the distance, but Ashton needs to see Nadia. He finds her in the back of the ambulance with an EMT working on her wound and Asana holding her hand. There’s an oxygen mask over her mouth but she’s more alert, her hand slips from Asana’s and she reaches for him, eyes wide.

Ashton and Asana switch places quickly, he kisses Nadia’s hand fiercely, keeping it pressed to his lips.

“I’m so sorry, Nadia. This is all my fault, but no one will hurt you now. I swear it. It’s time I’ve come clean to you,” he confesses.

She winces as the EMT continues to stitch her up, her lips move beneath the mask, but he doesn’t hear her words.

“What?”

“She already knows, Ash,” Asana says from the doors of the ambulance. Nadia nods at him.

“She knows? How?”

“She figured it out months ago. The Sheriff stopped by when she was home alone once and wanted her to relay a message of thanks to you for taking out the LeBlanc’s. Hotchkiss assumed she knew everything and kept talking, giving her all the information she needed,” Asana continues to explain but he’s watching Nadia as if she’s speaking. Her eyes are soft at her admittance through Asana.

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew?” he asks, and Nadia pulls the mask down slightly so she could speak.

“Because all you’ve ever done is protect me and part of that was not telling me what you do. I was protecting your secret just the same because I love you.” Her voice is soft and quiet.

“And Asana knew this whole time?” he asks bleakly but his smile is of relief.

“She filled in the gaps. I made her swear not to tell,” Nadia whispers.

“I’m sorry I kept these secrets from you.”

“I know, but it’s okay,” she sighs falling deeper into her pillow.

“We are going to transport to the hospital,” the EMT says, “she needs rest.”

Ashton nods then turns to Asana but doesn’t quite know what to say.

“We’ll meet you there and take care of everything else here,” Asana nods. “You take care of her, boss man.”

The doors close and the ambulance rocks as it starts to move. Ashton presses his lips to the birds on Nadia’s wrist, she cups his cheek as tightly as she can. His world fell apart and has been restored by having her in his life.

“I love you so much, angel,” he whispers squeezing her hand. In her eyes she sees the same love reflected back. Their past, present and future are held between their gazes. “You’ve always been the beauty to my madness.”

• • • •

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[ficsbynani]

Chasing Delilah (1)

Chris Evans/OC

March 22, 2018

Atlanta, Ga

Honeylux Studios

"Thank you for filling in on such short notice. Kendra is sick and can't do it."

Delilah nodded fixing her hair in the mirror in front of her, she had heard the same thing from stuffy nosed Kendra when she called a couple hours earlier, so she didn't want to hear it again from their supervisor, Kelly. Doing the interview didn't bother her, the constant last minute changes was starting to annoy her.

"What is this interview for anyway?"

"It’s for endgame."

“Like Avengers? Marvel?”

Kelly stared at her and nodded slowly, “Yeah. What else would I be talking about, Delilah?"

Turning away from the mirror Delilah stared at her for a moment about to say something smart until she heard one of the assistants call her name. She approached the assistant accepting the cards she was handed. The assistant ran through how much time Delilah had for the interview, what to expect for the duration and all of her angles.

"Got it, honey. How much time do I have until they get here?"

"He was supposed to be here about 10 minutes ago but he's running a little late."

Delilah nodded. "And how long ago was that?"

The assistant looked at her watch and hummed, “About twenty minutes ago. He's probably stuck in traffic or coming from filming. He should be here soon."

"He's here now. I assume you two were waiting on me."

Both women looked away from each other toward the voice. Delilah walked towards him with a polite smile and her hand extended to him. "Glad you made it safely. Hope it wasn't too much trouble."

He shook her hand enthusiastically with a big, wide smile. "It was no problem at all. I'm sorry to have kept you ladies waiting like that on me. I'm usually pretty punctual."

"It's no problem, Mr. Evans, we didn't mind waiting."

Delilah shook her head a small smile on her face, "Speak for yourself, I did mind."

"Please call me Chris," he chuckled, “Well in that case, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting..." His voice trailed off waiting for her to tell him her name.

“Its Delilah, Chris."

 "Accept my apology, please, Miss Delilah."

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Delilah nodded at him with a polite smile. "I guess l accept your apology Chris. You ready for your interview or you need a little time to get yourself together?"

"No ma'am I'm ready to get down to it if you are." he replied smiling.

Both went to their respective seats, neither spoke as they were given last minute touch ups from hair and make up. Delilah was given some last minute information from Kelly just before the cameras started rolling.

Delilah put on her big, bright smile looking into her camera, “Welcome to Honeylux Backstage Pass, I'm Delilah Anderson. With us today we have Captain America himself, Chris Evans." She paused for him to speak to his camera. "I'm glad to have you here today."

His brows rose playfully, "Thank you for inviting me, Delilah. That's a great dress by the way. You look gorgeous."

"Thank you, I see you trying to match me, Chris."

A hearty laugh escaped him when he looked down at himself and back at her realizing that they were pretty much wearing the same shade of brown. "So that was you I saw peeking in my bedroom window this morning."

Delilah smirked, “Oh, Chris, if I'm going through all that to peek in your window, I’d go all the way and climb right in."

A light blush rose across his cheeks that he tried to conceal by wiping his hand over his mouth and beard. "Noted, duly noted."

Delilah laughed, glancing down at her cards. "Since I've gotten you all the way here, tell me what you've been up to."

"As you know I'm here in Atlanta filming Endgame. And that's why I was a little late today, we got a little behind in our schedule."

"A little late? " She asked, chuckling. “Since you brought it up, you were not a little late, you were a lot late. You didn't want to come see me and Honeylux, Chris? I'm hurt.”

Chris laughed again, starting to get a little flustered, unable to hide the blush that creeped into his cheeks. "No, that's not it. I wouldn't do you like that, Delilah.”

“You wouldn't do me like that," she repeated playfully, “Then how would you do me, Chris?" They held each other's stare for a few moments before Chris broke and looked away rubbing his hands over his clothed thighs trying to dry his sweating palms "Chris, what do you like to do when you're not filming? I know that you've pretty much been in Atlanta on and off for the last two almost three years."

"I really don't do much. I go to a good restaurant every now and then, go to the gym and go home."

"Come on, Chris. I know you do more than that. You don't seem like a homebody to me. In fact a little birdie told us that you're a bit of a night owl."

"I... Who told you that? Was it RDJ?” he laughed. 

Delilah laughed giving him a playful innocent shrug, "I can't reveal my sources. "So let's try this again, what does Chris Evans do when he's not filming?"

"When I'm not filming I may, possibly go out to a bar or two or have a little party or go to a party."

An hour later, they wrapped their interview and Chris left her with a promise to not be late next time and a big hug. Delilah avoided her boss knowing that she wanted to talk about the flirtatious parts during the interview. If they were gonna make her do that interview last minute then she was going to do it her way. 

---

"Here you go. A strawberry lemonade vodka."

Delilah look up from her phone frowning, "I didn't order this. You can take it back."

"Its from a gentleman in the booth across from you. He asked me to bring it." The waitress discreetly nodded her head in the direction. "Trust me, you wanna take it."

She looked around the waitress spotting the patron who sent it and slid out of her booth. "I'm gonna move over there. You can send my food there." Not waiting for a response, Delilah grabbed her drink and crossed the bar sliding into the empty side of the booth. "An apology drink?"

"That depends. Are you accepting?"

"Hmmm … I accept but this doesn't completely make up for it."

Chris laughed, his hand going to his left pec, "This is not gonna be easy, I see. So what are you doing here? Alone at that?"

"I'm here to get my fried pickles." 

"And why are you alone?" 

"Hmm … maybe you should've been a journalist. You're pushing that question of yours," she responded taking a sip of her drink.

He shrugged, turning his baseball cap backwards. "Learned from the best I guess."

Shaking her head, Delilah stirred her drink around with her straw. "You didn't. If you had then you would've known why I was here alone before you asked the question."

"Okay, you got me there. Can I have an answer?"

"I'm alone because I'm always alone, Chris. I hope that answers your question."

"So since you're alone and always alone you wouldn't have a reason to turn down an offer to go to a more comfortable place."

"Comfortable place like," she drug out staring at him, "your place?"

Chris returned her stare, feeling sure of himself in the moment. Mentally applauding himself for not blushing the way he did during the interview. "My place. It's a few minutes down the street. You keep pulling on the sleeves of your sweater so I assume that you're cold in here, its an unusually chilly evening and my place just happens to be pretty warm. Got a fireplace."

Delilah smirked looking away for a moment, "Observant. Tryna get me to your place using your fireplace. Smart."

"Thank you. So you'll have your pickles and drink and then we'll go try out this fireplace. It's a date."

"I guess so then. But what are you gonna have?"

Chris peered over at her from the top of his glass as he drank from it. Once she returned his eye contact, he winked at her. 

---

The pair enjoyed their drinks, food and conversation with no interruptions. Chris' cute family stories and funny stories from set had their flirtation a bit forgotten by Delilah. Their conversation became animated a few times leading to one or the other reaching out for small, innocent touches every now and then. Their playful banter continued on their walk to his condo. 

He spoke politely to the men coming out of the building as he and Delilah entered. Their conversation ceased on the elevator ride up. Chris whistled softly to fill the silence until the elevator pinged on the 20th floor. 

"Ladies first," Chris offered playfully. 

Delilah walked out in front of him, tucking her clutch under her left arm. She looked down between them when she felt him hook her pinky with his then at him laughing at the smile on his face. 

"Don't want you to get lost or anything. It's a pretty long hallway." He kept her pinky hooked tight until he let them into his condo. She stood in her spot looking around as soon as he cut the lights on, she could hear him locking the door. "This is my temporary home. Not bad right?"

She shook her head slowly, "Not bad at all, Chris. Now where's this fireplace?"

Chris shrugged off his jacket and took off his hat sitting them on the stand beside them. He put his hand the the small of her back giving her a gentle push. "Let me give you a tour. I'll make the fireplace our last stop."

Chris stood with his hand on the doorknob of the last room he needed to show her. "What do you think so far?"

"It's nice. I could almost buy you being a homebody when you have downtime," she joked, "Almost. But I like it. The floor to ceiling windows and that shower are definitely being added to my wishlist."

"You like the shower? Well if you're nice, I'll let you use it." He joked opening the last door. "And the reason you're here, lounge room. Or if you'd like the fireplace room."

Laughing, Delilah walked into the room and tossed her clutch onto the sofa. Her eyes lit up a bit when it lit up. She assumed he did it from behind her with a remote. "Fireplace room, I like it, we'll call it that."

Standing behind her, Chris put an arm loosely around her neck pulling her closer to him sending a chill through her. "Cold still?" He asked in her ear.

"Uuuh," she hummed biting down on her lip, "You could say that."

"I can warm you up, if you want." He spoke in a low tone moving his other hand to her waist, gripping it. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Had he not been so close to hear and felt the vibrations from her body as she spoke, he wouldn't have heard her answer. Releasing his hold on her, Chris pulled his shirt over his head then removed his shoes and socks. He approached her again, this time kneeling in front of her undoing the clasp on her right heel then the left and tossed them aside. His hands traveled slowly up the outside of her legs, from her ankle to her thighs, disappearing under her dress. 

His hands went to her panties, slowly pulling the thin straps down her hips from under her sweater. She braced herself on his shoulders stepping out of the thin fabric. Drawing back a bit, he pushed her sweater up above her navel holding it there looking directly at her pussy. Delilah pulled the sweater off, tossing it into the sofa on top of her clutch. 

Chris caressed her thighs, her back arched slightly, and his hand moved from her thigh towards my quivering center. Using his other hand, Chris put her right leg over her shoulder pulling her closer. Gently he parted her lips and ran the palm of his hand against her clit, stoking Delilah's inner fires. A soft chuckle escaped him when her body jerked in response, followed by a deep guttural groan. His head lowered a bit moving in closer, deeply inhaling her scent. Then leaned closer and started to lick at her wetness, from bottom to top, the long smooth strokes, making her knees buckle prompting him to hold her up as he worked. Giving only hums in response to her moans, her groans and her whimpering. 

He sucked on her clit, and swirling his tongue around it at the same time, pushing her to the brink repeatedly. Her hips bucked against his face, lifting and rolling in an instinctive rhythm. Chris followed Delilah relentlessly, devouring her and then slid one finger deep inside her, following with another. They slid in and out while Chris focused his attention on her clit. Delilah could feel herself slowly building as the flames were in the fireplace were. 

Chris double his efforts, feeling her push his face into her center.  Delilah's body locked, becoming rigid as the convulsions hit me, staggering in their intensity. She came crashing down as the flames started to crackle a bit louder. 

She cried out loudly as her stomach muscles clenched and tightened. Her body shuddered with the aftershocks and Chris stayed there slurping and sucking as the aftershocks faded slowly away from her. Pulling away, Chris started to plant slow kisses up to her stomach, looking wickedly up at Delilah.

"Warmed up?" He asked standing to his full height licking remnants of her from his lips. 

"Very. Helluva first kiss."

Closing the small gap between them, Chris lowered his head capturing her full lips in a kiss. His hands instinctively went to her ass, grabbing and massaging it while her hands rubbed up his chest meeting at the back of his neck both deepening the kiss.

"How was the second one?" His words were a soft whisper against her lips.

"Just as good as the first."

Chris grabbed her hands and kissed her palms then placed them on his belt. "You mind giving me a hand with that?"

An audible groan passed Delilah's lips as she tugged his belt open. Her eyes met his, silently asking him for permission to unbutton his jeans, smiling when he ever so slightly nodded. Delilah had them open and down in seconds, her hands went to grab him. Chuckling, he stepped out his jeans putting his hands on top of her easing them off. He pulled her in front of the sofa and turned her around, her back facing him. 

"You remember what you said to me during the interview,  Delilah?" 

Delilah paused to think. "I said a lot to you."

"You said that I didn't want to come see you. Ring a bell?" 

"Yeah, I remember."

Chris caressed her sides, "Put your knees up on the sofa and grab the back. And I said I wouldn't do you like that. What was your response to that?"

Delilah did as she was told, looking over her shoulder at him. "I asked how would you do me."

Leaned down to kiss her lower back, using his tongue to trail up her spine to her neck. Her back arching in response, curses falling from her lips as she tilted her head back. 

Chris gently pushed her hair away from her ear, nipping at the skin below it. "You asked me how I would do you. My answer," he bent his knees a little lining himself up with her entrance slowly pushing inside her, "Like this. Hold on, beautiful."

He moved slowly at first, standing back up straight and placed a hand on her back keeping it arched. He gave her just a little. Not going all the way in, and pulling back out. 

He teased her this way a few times, until she started begging him to give it all to her. In that moment all she wanted was for him to bury his dick inside inside her. He smirked moving his hand to her shoulder and thrust his dick deep inside her. Delilah moaned loudly and gripped the sofa right as he pulled back and thrust again. Slow, long, hard thrust, in and out. In and out. 

Chris started moving faster acknowledging he desires she was moaning out to him.  Him burying his shaft deep inside of her wasn't enough. She started moaning, begging for more, faster, harder. She wanted all of him. He picked up the pace, moving faster, careful not to disturb her curls. He wet a finger and reached around to stimulate her clit while plunging deep inside of her.  Chris felt her start to squeeze him and his smirk grew into a wide grin. He thrusts hard and fast, until she screams for mercy, cumming again. He was more than pleased with himself to have brought her to a second orgasm. 

Chris eased himself out of her watching her head drop and slowly start to catch her breath. "Turn around and sit down," He instructed gently. Delilah turned slowly, now eye to eye with his dick and her mouth started to water. "Can I touch your hair?" 

"Yes, Chris. It's already sweated out," she joked softly. 

A chuckle escaped him, one hand went to the back of her head urging her closer and the other brought his dick to her lips tapping for her to open which she did. 

She sucked him the same way he had just fucked her. Hard and fast. Careful not to hurt her, Chris gripped Delilah's hair, holding her in place. He paused for a second to firmly plant his feet before thrusting into her face. Strings of curses and groans came from him feeling her stroke and massage his balls with his nails as he fucked her face. He groaned louder, telling her that he was about to cum. Delilah braced herself just as he exploded, filling her mouth with his seed. Delilah swallowed every drop and slowly licked his dick clean as he released his hold on her and pulled out.

---

Waking up warm, Delilah felt an arm around her waist and slowly opened her eyes. The events of the night before all coming back to her. A great night that she wasn't sure what it meant, her body was sore beyond belief but she was satisfied. Her mind and body was conflicting with her. She enjoyed herself but she didn't know what to say to him. Maybe it was a one night thing, a good end to a heavily flirtatious day. 

Easing his arm off of her, Delilah crept out of the bed putting a pillow in her place. She limped around the room looking for her clothes for five minutes until it hit her.

"Fireplace room, duh," she whispered limping out of his bedroom. 

Dressed aside from her panties that she couldn't find, Delilah rushed as fast and quietly as she could out of his condo. She fought hard against herself on the elevator ride down to the lobby to keep herself from going back up to his place and starting again. 

She decided against sitting in the lobby while she waited on her Uber and stood outside. Texts from Kelly about other interviews she had lined up came through momentarily taking Delilah's attention from the man she'd just left. But nothing could take her attention from the ache at the apex of her thighs.

#Chasing Delilah #Chris & Delilah #Chris Evans/OC #chris evans #chris evans fic

[shuwuwua]

with you [mark]

in which anywhere is fine, with him. [friendship/romance/fluff]

word count: 2k

“dude, let’s go outside. i’m going crazy,” mark announces as his busts into your room which may as well be his room from all the times he doesn’t bother to knock. quarantine had you two, like many other people, cooped up at home. while you didn’t mind the downtime, you have to agree with his sentiment. you’d seen too much of your tiny apartment in the past half year. you wonder if you’ve seen too much of each other in the process.

you look up from your phone. “do you actually want to hang out with me or do you just need me to drive because you can’t?” 

mark scoffs in mock hurt. “don’t ask me stupid questions.”

you weren’t actually going to deny his request, in the end. there’s not much you wouldn’t do for him, but you’re never going to let him know. you roll off of your bed, glance at yourself in the mirror to make sure you don’t look too unacceptable, and grab your keys. you two make it all the way down to the parking lot and in the car before you think to ask, “where are we going?”

mark fumbles with the seatbelt. “literally anywhere. just go. i’ll tell you if i see something.” you roll your eyes but smile a bit to yourself. he never has a plan. but you trust his gut, so you start the ignition.

you two don’t live right in the city, it’s a bit of a ways out. you’re familiar enough with the few coffee shops and shopping centers nearby, but you won’t be stopping in to those today. seems like this late afternoon is going to be a time for exploring. you head towards the city. on the drive up, mark rambles over the hum of the car about some class stuff, some total nonsense, as he usually does. he's the talker in this friendship. sometimes you bicker with him, most of the time you just listen, because you love everything he has to say. everything that funny little noggin comes up with. 

“... like, they’re so cute, oh my god dude do you think we should get one? does our apartment allow—wait, turn here,” he cuts himself off suddenly. you lift the blinker to turn. “why, is something down here?” you ask. “no, i just... i have a good feeling about this right turn.” you snort. “yeah, ok.”

a few minutes later, he decides to turn right again. then left. “mark, you better remember all these turns.”

“don’t worry, i’ve got it. i’m a natural at directions.” (no he wasn’t, but it’s fine, you’ll GPS the way back.) 

eventually, it seems you have made it to the edge of the city, but a side neither of you have seen before. by some miracle, you manage to find free parking. (albeit in a sketchy location, but something tells you towing management has long forgotten this area) the sun sits lower than it did when you left home, colors deepening into an warm pink and orange. sunset doesn’t seem far off. mark takes note of that. “let’s find a roof and watch the sky.”

“couldn’t we have done that at home?”

“i don’t know, something about being lost when the sun is going down in the city hits different.”

“oh, so you are planning to get us lost?”

mark gives you that cheeky grin of his. “i never plan for it, but even if it happens i’m not worried. we’ll find our way.” you believe him. he’d never actually put you two in crazy danger.

you two head off, commenting on the displays of the small shops that are closing. the outskirts of the city have a personality you can’t put a name to. quirky? unseen? the center of the city has urban outfitters or whatever, but here where the sidewalk is cracked and the brick is several decades old, the shops look timeless. there would always be a time and place for antique toys and custom stationery.

“yo, let’s come back here during the day. i need to see you wear that hat.” he points to some white, lacy monstrosity.

“i’d look so stupid.”

“that’s the point.” you shove him lightly. “i’m joking. i think you’d look cute.” he says things like that sometimes. you can’t ever tell if it’s just because you two are best friends and have that level of honesty with each other, or something else. you have never allowed yourself contemplate the latter possibility. 

you pass a few more blocks before finding a parking garage. you regret not parking here, but it’s okay. the walk was nice. it’s not the tallest structure in the city, but it’s tall enough to have a nice view. you two take the elevator to the top.

“damn, it’s windy up here,” mark says once you step out. the setting sun seems brighter, more intense here. you glance over at him. it was indeed windy, the breeze tousling his bangs and exposing his forehead. he squints as he scans the area for a good place to sit. it should make him look silly, but you should realize by now you’re whipped for him, because all you notice is how prettily the sun highlights his cheeks.

“over there!” you’re jolted from your thoughts as he turns to face you. his eyes glow, a warm brown that shapes into crescents as he smiles. he grabs onto your sleeve and pulls you to sit on the ledge. it’s wide enough to stretch your legs out, but you’re thankful for the short railing. during construction had they considered activities like looking off at the sun from this ledge?

the two of you settle yourselves, sitting thigh to thigh and leaning forward onto the railing. it’s getting a little chilly, but his leg is warm. tints of blue have joined the pinks and oranges in the sky, sun continuing its descent onto the skyline.

you sit in comfortable silence, because even though it is mark, he’s not talking all the time. he knows how to appreciate the mood. still facing the sky, you glance over to mark at your side, and you admire how admiration looks on his own face as he looks out. he’s so in the moment. when he's focused, he develops a stillness that you’d never find from him any other time. when he’s focusing on work or studies, he has a furrow in his brow and his jaw is set, but in this stress-free sort of focus his features lack tension. his eyes are glazed over as his mind stirs with thoughts. he looks like he’s forgetting to breathe. (he probably is.) you poke him in the ribs. he turns to you slowly, raising a brow. 

“you must be thinking up a storm, you haven’t said anything for like ten minutes,” you say, leaning back onto your crossed arms and peering at him over the folds of your pullover. he smiles gently and mimics you, faces not far apart, eyes open wide enough to see into each other’s souls, if you so desire.

“hmm... i dunno, like...” he glances up in contemplation, minimizing his need to say “like” five times. but he can’t help letting out another one. “like... i’ve just been thinking about the future, i guess.” it’s your turn to raise a brow, prompting elaboration. 

“you know, like, after we graduate, what's life going to be like? i probably won’t be able to talk to all of the other guys like i do now.” pre-quarantine, he had a pretty hefty friend group he would hang out with, some he was closer to than others but he still really loved them all. some of them would still come over nowadays, but he has a point that things would be different in the real world. “i know we care about each other, but i noticed when you get older you kinda have to focus more and more on yourself. so then... we’re not gonna be able to talk to each other as much. and maybe i’ll never see some of them again.” his mouth settles into something shy of a frown.

“whoa there, don’t be dramatic. whenever you get married—if you do—” he pouts at you and you grin. “—you can invite all of them to your wedding, you can look forward to that at least.”

“haha, yeah i guess. well, i mean, i know i’ll get over it once the time actually comes. life moves faster than we do, you know? so it’s ok, i’m just overthinking.”

“damn, you sound so profound today.”

“thank you, i know it’s rare.” even though he doesn’t share his serious thoughts too often, you know underneath the rambles and high energy, he’s so intentional about everything in his life. you’re grateful to be part of it.

you move one of your arms out from under your head to fumble with the cuff of your sleeve, staring at your fingers as you ask, “what about us?”

“what do you mean?”

more fumbling. “i mean... do you think we’ll inevitably grow apart too?” a moment passes with only the fabric of your sleeve making noise. you look up to him to gauge his thoughts, only to find him staring at you. there it is, the set of the jaw. you blink, unable to hold his gaze. 

“what’d i say about not asking stupid questions?” you thought your question this time was valid. his eyes soften. “well, i mean. i can’t imagine life without you. you’re always there. you’re always here. i never even had to consider it... the idea of us growing apart. so... if we suddenly don’t talk anymore, it’s your fault, because i have no plans on doing that.” he’s so confident in the two of you. it was just you afraid that he didn’t feel the same way. how could you have doubted him? 

the sky’s more blue and black than orange now, but the sun is still there, a sliver that permeates the horizon. the light has receded from mark’s face, the remaining shadows contouring his small, prominent features. another breeze cuts through the air that has shifted from chilly to cold, and you put your hands together, sitting up.

mark covers your hands with his, straightening up to scoot even closer to you, which you didn’t realized was possible. he rubs his palms over your knuckles then brings your hands up and breathes warm air onto them. he touches you delicately, like something precious. he knows you’re not fragile, but he only wants to show you tenderness at the moment. his thumb swipes back and forth over your fingers as he seems to be lost in thought again. 

making up his mind, in the last light of the day, he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to it. warmth spreads from the point of contact all the way to your toes. you hope your face isn’t as red as it feels hot. mark lifts his head to meet your eyes. even though the sun’s down, his eyes glow. you could lose yourself in them. you can’t help smiling widely at him, joy overpowering your shock and the palpitating of your heart.

mark looks out over the railing. he holds your hands to his chest, to keep them warm, or maybe just to have you close to him. “well, i guess the show’s over. should we go home?”

“yeah, okay.” the two of you hop off the ledge, mark still firmly holding your hand and your other tucked away in your pocket. once you make it to the bottom of the parking garage, there are only a few streetlights on and ahead the sidewalk is mostly lit by the moonlight. standing under one of the streetlights, you look at your intertwined hands and steal another glance at mark. you think that he glows in sunlight, moonlight, streetlight, anywhere. he’s simply always alight. 

“how are we supposed to get back to the car now, mark? do you even remember the way back?”

mark laughs and puts up his hand not holding yours to your cheek. “it doesn’t matter, as long as i’m with you.”

#mark scenario #mark scenarios #nct scenario #nct 127 scenario #nct dream scenario #nct u scenario #nct 2020 scenario #super m scenario #SuperM scenario #mark #mark lee #nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #nct 2020 #SuperM #super m #type: scenario #format: normal #genre: romance #genre: fluff #scenario: mark #scenario: nct #scenario: nct 127 #scenario: nct dream #words: 5k #author: jae

[spencers-dria]

Light Amongst the Darkness

Ch. 13 of Someone to Stay

Spencer Reid x fem reader

POV: Spencer

I wake up for the third time this morning as a technician comes in the room to take my vital signs. It seems like it's always something, labs, vital signs, or medicine. I look over to see Y/N curled up on the couch, sleeping soundly. She really could sleep through just about anything, but somehow she seems to always know when I get up.

I slip out of bed and make my way to the bathroom as quietly as possible to shower and get ready for the day. I feel a hand grab by wrist as I pass the couch. I look down and see her still half asleep, her eyes aren't even open yet.

"Spence?"

"It's okay, go back to sleep. I'm just going to take a shower."

"Let me know if you need anything" she says through a yawn as she rolls back over. I can tell she has fallen back asleep within seconds by the sound of soft snoring. I can't help but smile. It was an adorable quirk of hers.

By now I'm able to take the bandages off and wash the surgical wound. I wince slightly as the gauze pulls as the staples. It seems do be doing okay. Y/N has really been helping a lot. The nurses here seem to know her well and let her do as much as she wants to help take care of me. I've tried convincing her that she's not at work and she doesn't have to be my nurse but she insists.

I make my way out of the steamy bathroom in fresh sweatpants as I towel dry my hair. Y/N is wide-awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with bandages all laid out on the side table.

I start to sit down next to her as I try one last time to convince her to take a break. "You know you really don't have to..."

"Shush. I want to help."

I turn to face her as she delicately dresses the wound after covering it with an antibiotic ointment. I had to admit, it hurt much less when she did it. I watch her as she puts all of her focus into what she's doing. I really enjoy getting to see her do what she does best, what she's passionate about. She looks really beautiful, despite having just woken up. It's almost not fair. Her hair is hanging down in its natural light waves, I'm almost tempted to reach out and run my hands through it. I can feel my skin tingle where she's placed her hand on my other shoulder for balance as the leans in to examine her finished work. I shake the feeling from my head. I can't scare her off.

After she's finished, I slip on a t-shirt as she pulls out her laptop and we settle into the hospital bed, ready to watch the final Harry Potter movie. Downtime in the hospital had allowed us to make our way through the series much quicker than anticipated. She had asked for a couple extra days off, which I fought against and lost. This was my fourth, and hopefully last day staying in the hospital.

As we get into the movie I hear her say "mmm I miss it."

"Miss what?"

"Hogwarts" she laughs as though this was obvious.

I give her a quizzical look.

She continues. "You know, the wizarding world, in Orlando?"

"Ohhh yeah I almost forgot they had that."

She pauses the movie and turns to look at me with wide eyes. "You mean you've never been?"

"No. By the time they built it I guess I was older and already working for the FBI."

"Spencer I only went my first time in college." She laughs. "You're never too old to go to Hogwarts!"

She sits for a moment, lost in her thoughts, before her face lights up with a huge smile.

"We have to go."

"What, the two of us?"

"No genius, me and Hotch." We both giggle at the thought as she elbows me. "I used to take road trips with my friends back home all the time. It's been awhile though..."

I can tell she's been a bit homesick lately. She misses her friends and family. No one has been able to visit her yet. So I decide that this is a great idea for us both.

I look over to her, unable to hide a grin. "When are we going?"

"Really? Really??! You'll go? Oh my gosh, Spencer!" She jumps up out of the bed and starts pacing the room.

"We have to start planning. When do you want to go? I have to ask for days off. You will too of course. I can't wait to show you everything. We'll have to get you a robe..."

"Y/N!" She stops to look at me, as I can't help but laugh at her.

"Take deep breaths. We have plenty of time. You really get excited for trips, huh?"

"Oh you have no idea! Vacations are my absolute favorite! Planning is half the fun."

She stops and loses herself in thought for a moment. "It's not weird, is it? Us taking a trip together?"

I simply shake my head and she continues to plan out loud.

Her question makes me think. We are just friends. Friends can take trips together. My thoughts drift to the events that took place a little over a week ago at her apartment and at the bar. We still haven't talked about that. I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it, but ever since then I have taken extra notice of little things.

We used to sit apart to watch movies together, but ever since that day she seems to snuggle next to me. I find myself incredibly aware of how close she is, or when her arm brushes mine, my skin igniting at every touch.

She eventually settles down and makes her way back over to the bed, setting us up to continue the movie. Her head settles onto my shoulder, as if it belongs there. As her gaze falls on the screen, my gaze falls on her, and I can't seem to tear it away. I love watching her reactions. Despite having seen the movie so many times before, her expressions are as dramatic as someone who is seeing it for the first time. She told me she still cries at the boathouse scene, every time. I love that about her, her ability to see light in dark places, good among the evil. She is definitely the shining light amongst the darkness I face every day at work. I never want to lose that...lose her.

Eventually the nurse comes in with the discharge paperwork and instructions for wound care. They try to offer me prescriptions for pain medications at home, but I insist on sticking with Tylenol and Advil. Y/N drives me home and helps me carry my things up to my apartment. After we make our way inside. She immediately starts cleaning, switching on some music before she gets to work. I think about telling her to stop but I know better by now. Instead I lie across the couch and grab the book I was reading before I left for the case.

I try to focus on the words in front of me, but I find myself reading the same page over again as my eyes are continually drawn to Y/N. I see her go in my room and come back out with a laundry basket and bed sheets. After starting a load, she makes her way to the kitchen, wiping down counters and cleaning off any dishes in the sink. She's too focused on each task to notice my lingering stares.

She had come back out dressed in some loose fitting, high-waisted denim shorts and a black tank. She's pulled back the top half of her hair and tied it with a silk, gold scarf. She's still got no makeup on with her glasses. I normally take absolutely no notice of what women wear, but I really admire her style. It's always changing, completely unique and completely hers.

I try to hold back a grin as I watch her dance around the kitchen, barefoot as she sings a song I don't recognize.

"You get ready you get all dressed up, to go nowhere in particular. Back to work or the coffee shop, it don't matter because it's enough to be young and in looovee."

I can't put my finger on it but something about her has definitely been different lately. There's a new glow about her, and I'm drawn to it like a moth.

During her cleaning she's also opened up all my curtains and window's letting light in. She brought home all the flowers that had been dropped off during my hospital stay and is rearranging them into small vases to spread across the apartment. Its almost as if her light is so infectious, she's spreading it into every corner of my life, my home. I blush at the thought of how nice it would be to have her around all the time.

Every once in awhile I catch her gaze and she simply smiles at me as she continues to sing with equal enthusiasm. I appreciate that she's finally comfortable enough around me to sing, to be completely herself.

When she finally runs out of things to busy herself with, she makes her way to the couch and sits across from me, handing me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich as she bites into one she made for herself.

"Thank you" I say appreciatively with a mouth half full of food.

"Thanks for everything actually; cleaning my apartment, staying with me at the hospital, taking care of me...and just for sticking around, being my friend."

She leans forward placing her elbows on her knees. "I couldn't have found anyone better if I had hand picked them myself." She laughs at her own cheesiness.

I cough, clearing my throat for a moment. "Should we talk about the other night?"

"The other night? Oh!...oh." I notice her face turns a bit red and she breaks eye contact, staring at the wood floors instead.

"We don't have to I just thought..."

"No it's okay. We should talk about it. Well, first of all I want to apologize for making you uncomfortable. Sometimes when I drink I flirt with just whoever is around. It's not personal. I'm really sorry." I notice her start to nervously pick at the hem of her clothing, a sign of her anxiety.

"No! No you didn't make me uncomfortable." I shake my head, biting my lip as I try to think of how to continue.

"It was unexpected. I've never seen you be so confident. It was really s-s-something else." I feel my face heat up as I catch myself almost saying something I regret. I shift in my seat, incredibly aware of the thick tension lingering in the air.

She finally speaks up. "So the trip? I guess we can pick some dates once you're back at work. Then we can request off and buy some tickets. Sound good?"

"Mmmhhmm." My heart is still racing from the previous conversation. I can't believe how quickly I go from completely at ease around her to a hot mess of nerves. I tell my self it's nothing, that it will go away if I only give it time. It has to.

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x reader #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #writing #harry potter #original story #spencer reid x y/n #lana del ray lyrics #universal #wizarding world #deathly hallows #Spotify

[not-close-to-straight]

100% Professional (Seven)

MASTERLIST

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

The first few weeks after the cancelled date with Wade, Peter checked his phone at least once every ten minutes out of both hope and habit and every time it was only Gwen texting some bullshit or Harry demanding he come over and watch something, or even occasionally Flash who was working on reaching out to people again. 

It was never Wade though, and it took most of Peter’s self control to not text over and over and try to establish some sort of conversation, some sort of connection, some sort of anything resembling the camaraderie they had found and lost so unexpectedly. 

The next few weeks were filled with appointment after appointment, Peter filling his book full in an effort to distract himself from how badly he missed Wade. He worked double shifts for the Bugle, booked massage appointments as early as seven am and as late as ten pm and the few minutes he had of downtime were spent sleeping. 

“I said be his friend, not become a hermit!” Gwen smacked Peter with a magazine before flopping onto his couch and shoving her feet into his lap. “Foot rub please, I spent eighteen hours marching outside Hammer Tech yesterday and my feet are killing me.” 

“What did Hammer Tech do this time?” Peter sent off a confirmation email for an appointment later that week and began rubbing at Gwen’s feet. “And holy crap, eighteen hours? Gwen--” 

“Flash had a bad day.” Gwen’s blue eyes dimmed in sadness. “Threw something at me when I let myself into the apartment and then later called me crying from the hospital. He checked himself in because he doesn’t think he’s okay and he won’t let me come see him. So eighteen hours at a protest was about the only thing I could handle.” 

“Sorry, honey.” Peter murmured. “I get it.” 

“Yeah, except you’re being smart about dealing with your broken heart.” Gwen scoffed. “You’re actually making money while distracting yourself. I’m walking through my shoes and probably giving myself knee problems.” 

“You’re making a difference, I’m saving for a trip to the Caribbean.” Peter shrugged. “It’s sort of the same thing, right?” 

“It’s not the same thing at all.” Gwen snapped her magazine open and sighed. “So no word from your Special Forces Wonder Boy?” 

“Nothing.” Peter shot a look at his phone. “You think I did the right thing, texting him?” 

“I think it’s too late to care either way.” she answered promptly. “You sent it, it’s done. He will either text you or he won’t. Whether it was the right thing or not, you won’t know until he answers, and even then? Just because he answers doesn’t mean it was the right thing. You just don’t know, Pete and I don’t know either.” 

And then in a softer tone than Peter had ever heard, “Don’t think I know much about anything these days.” 

“Well you know you want to take down Hammer Tech.” Peter comforted and Gwen switched gears immediately, pumping her first into the air and exclaiming, “I think I’m getting close to being slapped with a restraining order! Fun stuff, right?” 

“Right.” Peter shook his head with an exasperated grin, and then stole one more look at his dark phone. “Whatever you say, Gwen.” 

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

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

“So I got asked out on a date a couple months ago.” Wade stared down at his clasped hands and forced the words out slow and steady. “Actually, I should back up. I ended up um… making friends with someone over the last few months. He kept joking about asking me out and then he finally did and I sort of uh--” 

He stopped, swallowed, and someone in the group murmured something encouraging. “I uh-- well I freaked out. Worked myself into a panic attack and said some pretty stupid things about not wanting to be-- to be his project--” a ripple of understanding from everyone gathered. “--and that was that.” 

“Alright.” Sam Wilson, former paratrooper, veteran, certified counselor and probably one of the best people Wade had ever met, clicked his pen a few times as he looked down at his notes. “So when you say that was that, what do you mean? Did you tell him not to call anymore? Did you tell him to leave you alone? Or did he get mad and walk away?” 

It took a moment, but Wade answered, “He didn’t get mad. He just left.” 

“Sometimes that’s worse.” a woman spoke up from Wade’s left, the skirt of her dress pulled all the way to the floor to hide her prosthesis. “Sometimes when they just leave instead of arguing to keep you, it feels worse.” 

“Okay, but I think we can all agree that it’s better to have our boundaries respected and left alone, than trod over in a well meaning but usually terrible attempt to make us comfortable, right?” Sam said calmly. “Wade, would you have rather your friend have stayed and tried to argue with you?” 

“...no…” Wade hesitated. “No, I think it would have made everything worse. I was basically ready to hyperventilate and I guess him being calm-- I can’t say it helped, but it's probably better that he left. I don't respond real well to people pushing my comfort levels."

“I remember.” Sam smiled a little, but didn’t bring up how Wade had freaked out at the first group therapy a month ago and snapped a chair over his knee before storming out. “So how do you feel about the cancelled date now that it's been a few weeks?” 

“...empty.” Wade dropped his head again, and the guy sitting next to him put a friendly, if not cautious hand on his shoulder. “I just feel empty. Not relieved the pressure is gone, not breathing easier cos I don’t have to think about being presentable in public or keeping my shit together long enough for a date.” 

He waited a beat and then added in a very small voice, “I just feel empty. Like I missed the one and only chance I’m gonna get to find love.” 

“I hear that.” Someone else spoke up and it made Wade feel less on the spot to know he wasn’t the only one going through this. “It’s been months since I got asked out, and last time it happened, I turned them down and they were real nice about, promised to call and ask again, but then they never did. They never tried to connect with me again. At the time I was relieved, but now it just feels like that was my one shot to be normal again and I blew it. Lost my chance."

“Here’s the thing about normal.” Sam cleared his throat and gentled his tone. “This is normal, guys. Me not being able to fly anymore after losing Riley, that’s normal. Tasha having an issue with the dark? Normal. Wade, your days of modeling buck ass naked for the annual edition of Special Forces Uncovered are over--” Wade and another ex Special Forces guy managed a laugh and Sam grinned. 

“-- those days are gone and now your new normal includes wearing specific materials that don’t hurt your skin, and that's fine. What we all have going on right now? This is normal. The past is the past, this is now and this is normal and it’s gonna be hard to move forward if we’re stuck thinking about what used to be.” 

“There are some people who look at us and see our trauma and see a fix-it, a project.” Sam said truthfully. “And there will be others who will realize that our normal is a lot more difficult than their normal and not want to deal with it. But not everyone will be like that. Someone will think our normal is perfectly fine, perfectly doable and those are the people we should hold on to.” 

Group therapy let out close to an hour later and Sam stopped Wade before he left, asking, “You seem like you’re doing a lot better Wade, how’s things outside of here?” 

“Bout the same.” Wade put his beanie on and slid into gloves, trying to cover as much skin as possible for the dozen or so blocks he had to walk to his place. “I’m getting out to see a massage therapist now instead of having one come to my house, I’m walking to and from therapy instead of hiding in a cab-- same old, same old.” 

“And the friend who asked you out?” Sam prompted. “Do you still talk to him? Didn’t want to ask in group in case it was too emotional but I wanted to check anyway.” 

“I don’t talk to him.” Wade blew out a deep breath. “I uh-- I didn’t delete his number but he might have deleted mine, and I think I’d actually lose my mind if I texted him and got one of those stupid ‘new phone, who dis’ texts back.” 

“Alright, first of all, we’re all adults here and I think we stopped texting that bullshit after college.” Sam joked and Wade smiled a little. “Second of all, just based on what you’ve told me about the guy, I highly doubt he’s lost your number. I think you’ve made some great steps towards personal healing lately, and if you think you can handle it, a little closure on that whole deal might not be the worst.” 

“I’ll think about it.” Wade zipped his coat clear up to his neck. “Thanks Sam.” 

“Take it easy, Wade.” 

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

From Wade: Heya Pete, it’s Wade. 

From Wade: Could I see you on Tuesday?

From Peter: YES

From Peter: I mean, yes. Sure. Absolutely. Is this a purely professional thing?

From Wade: I was hoping it could be more of a friends thing.

From Peter: I can’t wait.

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

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE CHAPTER!

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

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @livewire28 @tulipsnbigcats @kimstark @alex-stark-rogers @bibbarnes @heeeyitskay @goindownshipping @quietgayguy @nanita90a @justaniche 

@chiby-chan @thanossucks @i-am-worth-it-25 @dan4thefam

#ncts fics #spideypool #peter parker #wade wilson #sam wilson

[sinceileftyoublog]

Small Isles Interview: Filmless Music

Photo by Dustin Aksland

BY JORDAN MAINZER

It’s rare that you find a record with a genesis as specific as The Valley, The Mountains, The Sea, the debut album from Small Isles. The new project of guitarist Jim Fairchild (Grandaddy, former Modest Mouse) and songwriter/composer Jacob Snider has its basis in film scoring. The catch? The films don’t exist. The Valley, The Mountains, The Sea is presented as an imaginary score to an imagined sequel to Ang Lee’s 1997 familial drama The Ice Storm, itself based on Rick Moody’s 1994 novel. And the band’s upcoming, unfinished EP, with strings arranged by Snider and recorded by collaborator Sienna Peck, is, according to the band, a distillation of the concept of the band, one that consciously combines film scoring motifs with traditional songwriting. In a way, you could say that Small Isles is music about film scoring as much as scores itself.

Fairchild and Snider hold the belief that film scores should hold their own as a piece of music independent of visuals, and on The Valley, The Mountains, The Sea, they announce themselves convincingly. Opening track “The Concept”--essentially the prototype for the band--combines vaguely harmonic deep bass sounds with pristine, echoing string plucks, and wordless vocals, building up like an Explosions in the Sky tune. Other tracks, too, juxtapose the ambient with recognizable structures. “Fort Wayne” shimmers atop a drum machine, while the vocal samples of “Maybe We Will” cut in and out among the beats and arpeggios. Each track also has a pristine sense of place, as much of the album was written while Fairchild was on tour with Modest Mouse, tracks like “Fort Wayne” and the washy, atonal “Lake Superior” started in those locations.

I spoke with Fairchild (calling from his home in Ojai, California” and Snider (calling from near Philadelphia) last week, a few days prior to the release of the album via AKP Recordings. (The album comes out on vinyl next month). Read our conversation below, edited for length and clarity, about the band’s artistic process, The Ice Storm, adapting the songs live, and what Small Isles has in common with Olivia Rodrigo’s Sour.

Since I Left You: You’ve called this record an imaginary score to an imaginary film. Did you think of the sequencing of the record in a narrative arc?

Jim Fairchild: Kind of, but honestly, there’s a sequence that originally existed, and I don’t remember what it was, and it would have been more aligned with what I pictured from the movie, but it didn’t work as well as a comprehensive piece of music. The last song on here, “The Plot to Take Clover”, that was earlier before. “Life at One”, the first single, really kicked off me and Jacob’s partnership. It was designed that way; it’s not the way the record plays out. I wrote all of the principle themes, the underpinnings of all the compositions, as an imagined score to some sort of a sequel to The Ice Storm. I don’t know exactly how it would play out with Rick Moody. The first one was really successful. I have this idea for a similar type of movie that takes place in contemporary California and all these cues I can use as a mood board. Like, let’s sit down and figure out what this palate is. Let’s write a movie around it. That’s what I was thinking.

SILY: You wrote a lot of this while on tour. Had you conceived of the idea before then and wrote while on tour because of your downtime, or was the downtime the launching point for the idea?

JF: I was totally inspired by the idea. I started some of the themes that popped up, but once the actual Ice Storm Ang Lee idea came to mind, it was really generative. It’s how a lot of this stuff works with me. It kind of floats around for a while, reaching out this way or that. Once the real kernel appears, it’s like, “That’s it!” It all happens pretty quickly. That was definitely the case with this. It was the real fine-tuning that’s the most time consuming. That’s what Jacob and I have experienced. The EP that we’re releasing later this year, basically how it’s worked so far is I send him a sequence of chords and basic rhythm, which happens pretty quickly. Then--and we’ve only done it on Zoom with the new EP, though it was the same with “Life at One”--there was this theme. Jacob came in, we were gonna write some other stuff. He came in with a mic and sang some stacked harmonies. Then it’s carving out all the other elements around that to make it. 

These are unconventional compositions. They’re meant to accompany visual ideas. With that in mind, cues and scoring music doesn’t always work in recorded music, traditionally speaking. There’s all these lengths, sometimes time signatures shift, a melody might exist in an unconventional way to fit what’s happening visually. I really wanted to embrace that. With “Life at One”, Jacob did all this stuff, and there’s this really interesting sound I don’t know how to describe. He asked, “What are those over there?” [My partner Natasha Wheat] had made these ceramic bells for me, and that’s the most fun part about working with Jacob. A lot of the people who are trained as Jacob is--and I say this with great admiration for his abilities--are stuck in certain modalities. This is a perfect example. He looked at the bells and said, “Let’s do that.” He grabbed a drumstick and played the edge of these bells and processed them. That was a big feature in the composition of “Life at One”. This all happens very thematically and reflexively, but to then carve it up and get it to have purpose, meaning, ebb, and flow and make it work visually--that’s where the dirty shit happens. [laughs] I also look forward to when Jacob and I can be in person more. We’ve made a lot happen over the past 7 months, but it’s hard when you’re not in the same room. Plus, I’d like to show off. If he’s sitting right next to me, play some fast guitar...[laughs]

SILY: The title of the record refers to various aspects of topography, and there are song titles that refer to specific places, like “Fort Wayne” and “Lake Superior”. Do these aspects exist within the narrative of the film?

JF: “Lake Superior” and “Fort Wayne” were just started in those places, literally. I picture the Ang Lee movie--the new Ang Lee movie that is inevitably gonna take form because he’s gonna hear me and Jacob’s music and think, “You’re right, we gotta do this,”--in this zone a little bit east of Berkeley. It’s the West Coast equivalent of the Connecticut zone where The Ice Storm exists. It’s this affluent, green place. But the reason I chose to keep the others as titles is like, Fort Wayne, that’s pretty grand and has Batman implications. And Lake Superior, what a fucking great name for a lake, you know? I like the power of those, and if I were sitting down and writing a movie, those titles could be at least generative of a conversation.

SILY: What about the other song titles? What inspired them?

JF: “The Concept” is literally the concept for our band. The concept has expanded since then, but out of the ordinary--no sounds are out of the ordinary in modern production--but in the film scoring landscape, out of the ordinary, ambient, or textural sounds. But then big, beautiful melodies. Jacob’s voice. All that stuff. Synthesizing our two strengths. Jacob’s also a songwriter and makes amazing songs, but my background’s in bands, and so I treat our relationship as if it’s a band. Taking our two strengths. Jacob’s more conventionally trained, schooled, and knowledgeable than I am. He has a richer depth of knowledge in theory and orchestration. I can arrange that way, but he knows what’s going on. Mine is more reflexive--I don’t want to say auto-didactic because that’s kind of an arrogant term--but learning through mistakes. I think Jacob’s made fewer mistakes than I have.

SILY: What were all the instruments used on the record?

JF: There’s a lot of found stuff. 12-string guitar. I was writing it using this Rosewood Fender Stratocaster that Fender made for me. The 12-string is prominent on “Life At One”. There’s a piano Jacob played. There’s a lot of me coming up with drum beats. A lot of the initial stuff was in the box. I’d roll in my portable studio backstage, I’d have a guitar, Universal Audio space, whatever drums and synths I had.

SILY: What is your background in film scoring?

JF: I don’t have a specific background. From a very early age, I’ve been into film scores. I’d buy them starting when I was 15 or 16. CDs. Pretty obvious releases, but things like Danny Elfman’s Batman score, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. Sort of getting into Jerry Goldsmith. Elfman, Morricone. I like some of the Bernard Hermann stuff. I started studying it from the way I study everything: figuring out chord sequences, the way the melodies work, to the degree I was able. In the early 2010s, I was making a lot of music that was getting licensed for TV. Once Modest Mouse really started touring [2015 album] Strangers to Ourselves, I let a lot of those pursuits wither a little bit. But I’d always longed for a collaboration. A lot of that stuff was done in a solitary way, so I felt very fortunate when Jacob and I met. He was into that idiom but has a range of skills I don’t have. We also really work well together. All the reflexive stuff that happens, the melodies, it’s easy for us to go back and forth and see what we’re into and where to keep going. Neither of us get upset when the other person isn’t feeling whatever the direction is.

As I get older, I realize the value of stimulating multiple senses. I look forward to Jacob and I doing more of this stuff in collaboration with people. The Riley Thompson video for “Life At One” was him responding to a finished track, but in an ideal world, filmmakers would come to us and, in the way Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross work with David Fincher, where he says, “This is the concept for the new film,” and Jacob and I come back and say, “This is the sonic and melodic landscape we’re thinking of, and here are some character cues. Let’s take it from there.” I love being in conversation with people collaboratively and am attracted to the idea of it across media.

SILY: Do you think the idea that the music might not be responding to a finished film would make the score stand on its own more as a piece of music?

JF: The scores that I like totally stand on their own as music. When Morricone passed away, I read that John Zorn had a quote when they were hanging out in the late 80′s or early 90′s, Zorn said, “Don’t do it unless you’re thinking about what the soundtrack record is gonna be like.” The music needs to be cool enough to just be music.

SILY: Tell me about the album art.

JF: Natasha and I sold our place in Los Angeles last year and moved to Ojai. We thought it was a temporary transition, and now it’s somewhat permanent, because we bought a place here. We’ve been in this guesthouse next door since November. I like taking pictures at night with whatever ambient light [there is], so I took that picture from our place. I wanted there to be contrast with this technicolor paint and silver border on the upper and lower parts of the image. Homes are very interesting to me, and there’s a lot of that in The Ice Storm. There’s that shelf people look at from the outside and think, “It could be dilapidated, it could be beautiful.” People think of it as a thing. But there’s this whole other world that only exists inside of there. It’s always fascinating to me when walking by the place. Stories in the shell. I like the idea of a structure having implications. I don’t have an agenda for what those implications might be, but I like the idea that there could be implications there.

SILY: Jacob, when Jim came to you with this idea, how aware were you of The Ice Storm?

Jacob Snider: I had seen it. I don’t know if in our first meeting, it came up that specifically and clearly that this is where the music was going. In fact, it started more as a casual meeting of creative types. When I came over to Jim’s studio, he just showed me the latest thing he was working on without any huge idea behind it expressed to me in that moment. Jim might have been thinking it in that moment, but that day was more, “Alright, I’m working on something, what do you hear and is there something you think you could contribute to it?” It was really organic. Like Jim mentioned before, the best thing you can do when making something is show it to somebody else, because they’re gonna hear it in a different way or they might suggest something if you’re open to it. People can make amazing solitary music, but it will always be just their thing. You bring in someone else, there’s a different energy, a different perspective. 

As it stands, I do love that film. It’s really haunting. Jim and I talked before that it’s not a movie you can watch every week. It’s heavy, and the themes are deep: family, loss, grief, betrayal. It’s a great one. I think it’s a movie that’s cinematic but also has a lot of depth. I think that’s what we’re going for with Small Isles. It has shades of film music but also shades of rock and roll and romantic string writing from the orchestral traditions. I think we’re trying to combine a few things at once, and we’re really curious how it starts to strike people and how some filmmakers respond to it.

SILY: Are you both generally Ang Lee fans?

JF: I haven’t devoured all of his work. There’s plenty I like. But I’m so in love with [The Ice Storm]. I was in love with the book before the movie came out. He treated it so beautifully. As high in the sky as it is for two nascent film composers to say, “I want to work with Ang Lee,” it’s very important to know where you want to go. It may take a long time to get there, but [it’s important] to have a place where you’re headed. That was definitely the case in the early Grandaddy days, and having watched [Modest Mouse lead singer] Isaac [Brock] for as long as I did, I think it was the case there, too. It may not be as specific knowing that I’m traveling in this direction, but that direction can totally change. There can be diversions that knock you off your course positively or negatively, but thinking about how beautifully he treated that material, that’s where I want to go.

SILY: How are you adapting Small Isles to a live performance?

JF: We’re gonna play at least some of this, maybe all of this live. I’m really looking forward to it. Jacob’s only on half this record, and the 5-song EP we’re releasing later this year, he’s on all of. That’s a straight-up 50/50 collaboration. I’m looking forward to the stuff Jacob didn’t contribute to on the record, hearing what he does with strings. We’re still figuring out how we’re gonna approach it. Jacob will be on keys and vocals, and I might sing a little bit. I’ll be on guitar. Our friend Sienna who Jacob went to school with, who’s doing the strings, we’re talking about having her lead a double string quartet. I would like to have a drummer doing some electronic drums and maybe a kit as well. I definitely don’t imagine we’ll totally nail it on night 1. There’s a lot of stuff we have to work out. There aren’t many antecedents in this zone, but something like Explosions in the Sky mixed with Johann Johannsson. I saw [the latter] in 2010 in San Francisco; there was a little bit of strings, various electronics, and he was on piano. That was a very striking performance. So the explosiveness of a big arena rock show with lots of subtleties and nuance that can come from strings and orchestral.

SILY: What else is next for Small Isles?

JF: We wanna finish this EP. I also really love the way a lot of rap and hip-hop people have gotten it right over the years. Using current listening habits and technology to get out as much music as possible. I definitely have the seeds for at least another EP behind this. Once we get this EP done--there’s just a little bit of tinkering to be done over the next month before going into the mixing stage--I want to make as much music as possible and release it. With the spirits of the world willing, I want to get off the ground live and collaborate with filmmakers, dancers, artists, people in the visual medium. I just love making music with Jacob and this type of music. I’d like to have a few releases a year. EP length [or] album length. I have a number of concepts written down. The seeds that Jacob and I have been playing with to make the EP. I was thinking about The Last Black Man in San Francisco when making this EP, and I’d love to collaborate with those filmmakers. Even just being in person, to tell Jacob, “What do you think of this sequence?” and have him respond without dealing with latency issues and dodgy DSL.

SILY: Anything you’ve been listening to, watching, or reading lately that’s caught your attention?

Jacob Snider: I’ve been listening to a lot of pop. I’ve been listening to the Olivia Rodrigo record [Sour]. I think there’s great writing on there, great production. Watching, I’ll just piggyback on The Last Black Man in San Francisco. It took me a while to finally see it, but I had a filmmaker friend tell me I had to, and I loved it. Also the other film Emile Mosseri did the score for, Kajillionaire, the Miranda July film. Reading-wise, I’m about to jump back into Louise Erdrich’s The Round House.

JF: I’ve been digging the Olivia record, too.

JS: There’s some cool strings on there too from the guy who does a lot of the strings for Portugal. The Man, [Paul Cartwright]. They created a string orchestra sound with just one guy layering violin and viola, which is really cool, and that’s what we’re doing with our collaborator Sienna Peck. There’s totally room for that now, the way the world has been so remote. We can’t put 16 players in a room right now due to public health restrictions, so let’s get one person. It’s really hard to do--you can be a great violinist and not be able to layer yourself in a way that makes it sound like a string orchestra. You have to change your position in the room, the way you’re playing slightly, pretend to be three different people sharing a stand. That’s what you’ll hear on the next record.

JF: I just got into How to Change Your Mind, the Michael Pollan book about psychedelics, which I really loved. I just started a book called The Magic Years, which is about child development. I have a three-and-a-half-year-old son, and I’m very fascinated by what’s going on in his brain and what makes him make the decisions he makes. Just how to be a better dad. I am always a religious reader of The New Yorker, every week it comes out. Natasha and I watched The Kids, a documentary [about the making of Larry Clark’s Kids]. When that movie came out, Grandaddy were skateboarders, so it was important to us. But even as a young kid, I felt that it was really exploitative, and the documentary verifies it. It’s heartbreaking. Larry Clark is a really derelict dude. Truly lecherous. But [The Kids] is a beautiful movie. We’ve been watching Los Espookys. I’m really excited about Vince Staples’ upcoming record. My friend Nik Freitas put out a new song. My musical diet’s gotten really regressive in a way because my son is very into the Super Furry Animals record Radiator. It’s all he wants to listen to in the car.

#small isles #akp recordings #the valley the mountains the sea #dustin aksland #jim fairchild #grandaddy #modest mouse #jacob snider #ang lee #the ice storm #rick moody #sienna peck #explosions in the sky #olivia rodrigo #sour #danny elfman #batman #the good the bad and the ugly #jerry goldsmith #ennio morricone #bernard hermann #strangers to ourselves #riley thompson #trent reznor #atticus ross #david fincher #john zorn #isaac brock #johann johannsson #the last black man in san francisco