assholes

[valentinexblack]

Black Knights and Vodka

[boneletters]

bl-oodletters:

He shrugged, “Never claimed I was a wordsmith now, did I?” Leo far more enjoyed teasing nipples to perks, ghosting fingers over her body until it stood and smiled.  Reading the mood had never been his key trait but he was apt enough at understanding what was or wasn’t about to fly and let his fingers slip from the modest breast.

The trust fund brought into the equation made him laugh. “You don’t need my money,” he said through the laughs. “And you’d be hard pressed to grab it.  My Mom’s a real tight ass about letting me in that bank account.”  She leaned closer to play games but Leo silenced them all to kiss her instead, capturing her lips between his with a child’s timing.  It was forceful without being dominating, pressing near only to pull away with a grin. “I’m a talker, yeah, but it’s also true.  You want to pretend like my friends don’t run this establishment? Shit Harry alone  has his hands down so many pants I can’t even count.”

“Nae,” she replied, chucking. “Ya dinnae. Bu’ I expected a lil’ more than since ever. Ya’ll have t’ work harder t’ seduce me, Mr. Raske.” Her back arched slightly as she felt the skin on her breasts tighten and her nipples harden. Valentine wondered for a moment if he could smell how wet she was. Her ex had always joked about being able to smell when she was turned on, but they had been having sex for a couple of months before that became a running joke.

A joke about tight asses and moms wanted to come out Ryder’s mouth, but her lips were otherwise occupied with Leo’s. Her brow raised in surprise, and she very nearly whimpered when he pulled away. Oh, no, no. This would not do. She was going to have to find a quick and easy fuck soon if she was going to keep playing games with the younger Raske. Very soon. Like, after she left this exchange, soon. “Tha’s all well an’ good,” she replied, “Bu’ I’d rather boost my own status. I dinnae really need your cock, nor Luke’s, nor Harry’s, t’ help with tha’.”

The Scot adjusted herself slightly, lying back so that she was more comfortable on the bed, and taking the place that Leo had occupied while receiving his mark from her. “Your turn t’ do me now,” she told him, ignoring the sexual connotation of her words and pointing to the makeshift needle she had set on his bedside table.

[bl-oodletters]

The Hills || Hal & Meghan

[boneletters]

bl-oodletters:

Behind the muttering girl, Six grunted and Hal watched the beast of a man almost smile before flipping the expression into a scowl once more.  His second had a brilliant way of sensing that moment before the enemy struck, steeling the woman against Hal’s oncoming blow. Hal himself had learned to love the malice with how he now conducted himself.  He’d had no other choice.  The streets of New York were not Oxford; it was not your intellect or your wit that was most revered in this circle.  It was your fury.  Hal had not been born with the anger- Atticus had brought that onto him.  Women had been the hardest for him but it was amazing how substances could change a man’s moral.

Now it seemed automatic, the voice in his brain that reminded him There are no exceptions.  Exceptions become weakness and weakness’s become dead. His face was muted fury, eyes so cold the color had gone dark.  Meghan’s white cheek was already smarting, the skin raised and rapidly shifting purple.  Where the gun had slashed her skin, she bled and Hal heard the hush over his motley crew.  They were not seasoned gangsters - just starters.  The silence proved exactly what Hal had set out to prove.  

Someone - Hal thought it was the pudgy one named Blue - whispered his name.  “Sting,” it was from behind, but Hal ignored the plea.  He leaned towards the brunette, watching the wound swell before smiling.

“Glad to hear it.” With a jerk of his chin, Six pulled Meghan straighter, though Hal noted the gentile way of it.  “Now,” he started, “You’re going to help me make some product.  Creating that’s what you’re new duty is.  Do it well, Sparrow, and there will be perks.”  The next question he directed to Six as well as her, staring at the mans dark eyes.  “She a street punk or more credible?”

“She’s credible,” the man named Six grunted. “Married to one of the Carte kids out of Chicago before he got himself killed.”

Her nostrils flared in anger. “Hey, I wasn’t just married to one of the Carte kids. I transported arms and money for the Carte’s for five years. Before that, I sold drugs and guns for the Godfathers of the Night out of Heraklion.” Meghan pointed a finger at the boy. “I know you know who they are. They run out here, too. I’m not fucking around, and this isn’t my first rodeo.”

She rolled her shoulders forward and gruffly  pulled her arms from Six’s loosening grip. “Deixe-me ir.” She’d have to get on Six’s good side if she made it past this night club experience, but for now she was going to remain a cunt. Meghan leaned forward and crossed her arms on the table. “None of this is gonna mean shit to you, though, so you have to just trust me. Trust that Six brought you someone worth your time, and trust that if I’d fucked over anyone I’d worked for before, I’d be dead. You know how this business works. Once you’re in, you’re in. And yet I’ve worked for two, now three different groups without getting myself killed. If I was bad at what I did, you wouldn’t be talking to me, and you certainly wouldn’t already know who I am. So screw these vague details about creating. Tell me what I’m going to be doing.”

Her heart rate had been picking up, even as the haughty speech left her lips. Though it was all true, talking like that to someone as testy as Hal seemed to be was be a very bad idea. Best case scenario, he respects her a little bit. It wasn’t likely, but a girl could dream. Worst case scenario, she ends up dead behind the club. Whatever the case, she’d be in a better position than she was in that moment.

[valentinexblack]

Black Knights and Vodka

[bl-oodletters]

The boy gave an enthusiastic nod, delayed only by his body’s satiated laziness.  “Course we are,” he looped his arm around Ryder’s shoulder to skim her breast instead and sighed, as if it was the clearest thing in the world.  “Two bodies haven’t matched up this well since …..ever.” He’d have to bone up on history, for his metaphors sake. “I know you haven’t really given this baby a test ride,” he gestured from abs to crotch quickly, “but I promise, we will not disappoint.”  

Leo turned to her then, suddenly swooping to hover over her, one arm resting beside her head as he smiled. “You sure I can’t repay?  Feels wrong to only receive…like I definitely owe you an orgasm.” His nose was near hers but the kraut was fairly sure Ryder wouldn’t have liked a kiss from him now.  “Not sure sleeping with me would do anything to make you less interesting.” He grinned. “It’s a status booster, if anything.”

[boneletters]

The Scot neither hesitated nor hid the eye roll that came along with his wandering finger on her breast. Her German counterpart certainly went for what he wanted, and part of her loved it. Not that she would ever let him know. He’d let that go too easily to his head. “Since ever,” she repeated. “Eloquent, Leo.” 

She tensed slightly as he took his new position over her, but let herself relax and smirk once again. “Maybe I’ll let ya repay me la’er.” Valentine winked. “Though I dinnae promise it’ll be in the form o’ an orgasm. Maybe I’ll jus’ take all your money.” This time as his arrogance became blatant, she suppressed the dramatic eye roll. Instead, she lifted her chin slightly – angling her lips closer to his – and took on a significantly more sexual smile. One she had perfected in previous years that had been known to bring men to their knees with incredible thoughts of sexual pleasure. “I bet ya say tha’ t’ all the lasses ‘round here.”

[bl-oodletters]

The Hills || Hal & Meghan

[bl-oodletters]

He’d half a mind to shoot her then, just to see her reaction.  Women grated on him just in nature, the dichotomy of their gender never ceasing to annoy him in etiquette- especially since his induction into Atticus’s world.  Prior to New York, women existed in a net to be protected, a safety completely abolished the moment he took a second name and drew arachnid limbs on the contours of his back.  Here women had a queer equality.

Six was cautioning her to silence, a grunted “Shut up,” in his gravelled baritone.  Hal himself tsked.

“He’s all brawn,” Hal sighed, nodding the gun towards his stone faced second.  “Six’s real soft underneath.  Doesn’t like roughing up girls when he doesn’t have to.” His stare chilled.  “We have to work on that, he and I.  Luckily, I don’t have the same issue.”

The butt of his gun struck against the brunt of her cheekbone, an expected crack following the hit.  He’d brought the weapon down harsh on her skin, arching in a quick flick of his wrist.  His grin was gone and his eyes shone dangerous, manic.

“Don’t think I need to tell you this meeting is going poorly but, seeing as you’re obviously slow, might as well have that right out in the damn open.” He was standing now, leaning over the table and to fist a hand tightly in her dark hair.   By that hold he tugged her up, letting six adjust until the bloodied cheek was near enough he could snarl in her ear.  “You want to be smart, save it for another fucking crowd in another fucking bar.  There’s only so many bridges you can burn in NYC.” His fingers cupped her jaw, already turning purple from his smack. 

He squeezed his hold there tight.

“One more time,” he hissed against her ear, “Can you behave?”

[boneletters]

“O que um homem bom,” she murmured, more to herself in response to his comment about Six. Her mouth was shut though, when the heavy butt of his gun met her cheek. She felt skin break easily and her legs collapsed beneath her, the weight of her slender form falling to the men still gripping her arms. 

That was going to hurt in the morning. It’s just foreplay, she reminded herself. You’ve had worse. You’ve felt worse pain inflicted by people you loved. This is just a child trying to show he’s got the biggest dick in the room. She let her body relax, head lulling back, he got a good grip of her hair and made sure to lock her eyes on a space on the wall just beside his head. The less tense her body was, she found, the less being beat hurt. At least Aden had taught her something decent. Part of her wanted to laugh at that thought. 

She inhaled sharply through her nose as he gripped her jaw, and her eyes shifted back to his from their spot on the wall. “Yes, sir,” she hissed, enunciating the syllables. “Anything else?”

[bl-oodletters]

The Hills || Hal & Meghan

[bl-oodletters]

For a moment, Hal wished the Greco gang dealt in sex more heavily.  Throwing the prickly brunette into his father’s line of work would have amused him to no end.  She’d likely get herself killed a month in, he realized, then thought it lucky on her behalf she was only attempting to run the Widow’s narcotics.   She was trying his patience, without a doubt.  You couldn’t be in this business thinking the world ran on sunshine and rainbows but respect was the name of the god damn game and so far his bottom feeder crack peddler was dealing out zero.  He knew his face, fought the doe eyes and posh past through metal and ink, but he was still surrounded by crones.  More importantly, his name was known.  Wanted or not, Hal Elias was protected in the streets of New York and he’d tasted enough blood to feel the weight behind his name.  

He drew on that name now, a vein jumping in his jaw as he listened to her hubris.  You don’t scare me.  The thought was not completely uncommon.  Compared to the cold cruelty of his father Hal was easily the lesser evil.  Evil, however, had many forms and he’d learned very quickly to bite the ears of dogs if he expected them to heel.  

“Right,  I think we’ve solidly established you’re one dumb fucking bitch.” It took only a look at Six and the man behind Meghan had both arms caught in a gorilla handed grip, Hal drawing his gun with a practiced efficiency. His elbow rested on the table before her, barrel of the Glock pointed directly at her throat.  “I’m not one to wave my cock around willy nilly but it seems to me you’re having a bit of a tough time keeping straight just where the fuck you are, so consider this a friendly reminder. Whatever fancy title you had before this - and I don’t mean this year, or this new chapter in your fucking yogalates life - I mean this moment. Right now.  Whoever you were before you stepped into my bar and decided to jump up the shark ladder using your tits for your brains - throw it right out the fucking window.  Because now?”  he unlocked the safety. “Now it’s just you and me baby, and I can tell you very quickly which one of us is calling the shots.  Your bravado is useless to me so let’s nip that in the butt right the fuck now and move on.”   

He lifted his chin, grin tight as he brought the gun down on the table.  “Think you can do that or does Six here have to break your wrist?”

[boneletters]

Meghan drew a neutral face as his speech started, despite the strong hands wrapped around her arms and his pissed off tone. No sense in letting him think he had any real affect on her. Not yet.

His reaction, though, did make it seem as though he was relatively new at this whole thing. Leading and taking in new recruits. This was barely scratching the surface of how truly cuntish she could get, and he seemed entirely upset by her. Teague had a look – perfected through years of making threats that were anything but empty – that made kids like this shit their pants. Valarie had that demonic smile that came out when she knew she would get to use the knife sheathed within her boot that struck fear in most hearts. Hell, even Mad Madge could get someone silent with a properly placed growl. Shows of brute force were rare in the Carte family. But they were all born into the life. Raised in the tradition of alcoholism and violence. Rarely a day went by where one member did not try to kill another. They were scary. 

This was painful, sure, but it made Hal reek of petulant child, and the awful part of Meghan that saw daylight far too often wondered if he was more bark than bite. A name like his carried certain connotations, but those could’ve easily been earned by a daddy who did all the work and let his kids reap the benefits. 

“Aw, but then who’d jack you off when Six here gets tendonitis?” She hissed as one of the men tightened his grip and twisted her arm, prompting Meg to backtrack slightly. “Alright, fuck. I’ll shut up. But I’m pretty sure the phrase is nip it in the bud.” 

Yeah, she was gonna bruise. Sure, he might still decide to shoot her. But she had found the man’s breaking point for being tormented, and that was worth it. And she was about to find out if he had the balls to back up his threats.

[bl-oodletters]

The Hills || Hal & Meghan

[bl-oodletters]

Behind the booth, Hal had his legs crossed, leaning a dark head against the red leather cushions.  He was beyond cocky where he sat, light eyes turned black from drug dilated pupils.  Already he raked his gaze over the girl, a craftsmen crudely but carefully assessing his wares.  They could pimp her and make a hell of a penny, but that was not strictly his business.  

“Yeah, I’m sure plenty of junkies would wanna fuck her,” he nodded approvingly to Six, as if the man had told him as much.  Despite his mass, Six was a fairly quiet man.  He kept to himself and offered his opinion only when prompted.  It was why Hal had taken this suggestion so seriously.  If Six had thought this woman was noteworthy it had to mean something.

Hal snorted at her joke, though he was anything but amused.  “I’d be careful being too mouthy.  You’re not in fucking wonderland, Alice,” he raised his chin and smiled.  “So keep your cunt comments thin and we’ll have a much easier time doing business.”  

A waitress came by then with a tray of shots they’d ordered earlier, a man sitting by with a crew cut eagerly reaching to pass the shots around.  Hal listened, scoffing at her bravado before tossing his shot back and hissing.  

“You don’t need to finger yourself with words, babe. It’s just damn words as far as I see it.”  Arms wired with muscle crossed,  already reaching for a cigarette.  “You call yourself, what, fucking Sparrow?  How long’ve you been in the game then, baby bird?”

[boneletters]

This was not the first time she’d heard whispers of whoring her out. Though, that was usually what they were. Whispers. The Greeks muttered it with tongues thick with liquor. The Portuguese were more brazen, pointing and speaking in their native tongue. Assuming that the boss’ trophy wife had no knowledge of her new family’s heritage. With a signature roll of the eyes, Meghan leaned back and interlaced her fingers behind her head, legs spread apart to show an entirely false comfort in the situation. Teague hadn’t taught her much – not that he was trying – but she had managed to walk away from her father-in-law with a better handle on how to look cool in any situation. 

Her relaxed smile faltered only for a brief moment, lower lip barely quivering, as an old memory came to mind. Jack, the first time she’d helped him and his family. You don’t have to accept our fate but fake it like your life depends on it, he had told her. Act like dying doesn’t faze you. Act like the feeling of hot metal against you skin is just foreplay. Your skin craves the touch of a knife. Fake it. No one here admires the dainty female act. Take care of yourself. Someone touches you and you don’t like it, punch them and shove them away. Okay?

“Yeah,” the word came languidly from her lips, smile stretching as she maintained eye contact with the mildly annoying man. “You don’t scare me. And my words aren’t just words. I wouldn’t be here if they were. My reputation clearly precedes me if someone here has told you what I’m called.” Though hubris was clear in her voice, she truly was not scared of Hal or his goons. Anything he could do to her had already been done. Her form, filled with a very particular brand of self hatred, bore those scars clearly. 

“Eight years,” the first straight answer from her. “Two in DC, one in New Hampshire, and five in Chicago.” Fuck, she hated that nickname, though.

[bl-oodletters]

The Hills || Hal & Meghan

Drug mules were a dime a dozen in the business, flooding in and out with less loyalties than the junkies they served.  Hell, half of the people trafficking drugs for them were junkies, overdosing as often as they managed to score him cash.  It was simply that kind of business, certainly not one Harold Cutteridge would have found lucrative and certainly not enticing.  

Hal Elias, however, thrived in the world of drug and crime.  He’d adapted easily, snorting lines off the silicon breasts of bought women, burning his own concoctions into chemical smoke to test on his mind.  It took care, creating the perfectly intoxicating drug, the kind of thing that got you hooked on one drag.  This was the kind of score Atticus Elias craved of the boy, his only son.  It was Hal’s prerogative to toe with the line - to push his body through that and see just how long it took before this nightmare was sparingly ended. It had worked well enough.  He spent most of his life feeling nothing and the rest of it in violent, chemically addled bursts.  The consequences or lost nights were minimal, merely waking up with a new bruise or broken bone.  

He waited in the private booth of Sinsations probing at one such bruise, a blooming pain in his right shoulder that he’d only showed to Six, who’d groaned at the size. The second of his father’s posse did a decent job seeming like he cared about his ‘young Don’ but Hal knew exactly where his loyalties lay.  It was why he watched the entrance to the club warily, looking out for the shaved head and stern eyes dragging in this new mull.

Six has spoken of her through other mens comments, having met this particular dealer briefly but seeing potential.  He was told she was prettier than most of their other mules, all her teeth still intact and sans the growing marks of long term addictions.  The reason she was coming here was due to a certain expediency. And as he saw the tell-tale, lumbering gait of Six and he slim form beside him – he instantly understood better.

“Well fuck me sideways,” he said with a laugh, blowing a mix of smoke from his joint towards the dark haired girl.  “You weren’t kidding- what a face.”  He smirked, cheek bones sharpening with his amused judgement.  “So you want to sell up, Leggy?”

[boneletters]

 Oh, yes, because this was exactly where Meghan wanted to be. A dark, loud club that reminded her of the same exact places she frequented almost nightly in high school. A dark, loud club that held the man who was going to be her “boss” for the next few months. A dark, loud club that she was only entering because she was required to by the Federal Bureau of Investigation if she ever wanted to see her two sons again. She was doing this for them. That had become her new mantra. Do it for the boys. 

It was that mantra that she had been repeating to herself ad nauseam that day since she woke up at four in the morning. Fuck, she hadn’t felt this physically and emotionally sick since she was actually pregnant with Charlie and Henry. Were it not for this hulk of a man – Six, apparently – leading her through the dark, loud club, she probably would have left out the back and puked in a bush or something. Do it for the boys, do it for the boys, do it for the— Her eyes met the man with the defined bone structure, sitting alone in the corner and looking like he was watching his domain. With her luck, that was going to be Hal. God, he looked like an arrogant fucker.

Come on, Six. Take a left turn. Don’t keep going straight. Yup, of course this was him. Fuck, the mental begging would have worked with Josh. She scoffed at his verbal appraisal of her and rolled her eyes. “I’d rather not,” she retorted, “But I’m sure this big fella could do a good job.” Her head tipped slightly to the right and she gave him a once over. “You look like a decent power bottom.” Meghan dropped heavily into the seat across from the man she would apparently be working for and crossed her arms over her chest. This really was going to be a nightmare, she could tell already.

“No. I don’t want to sell for you.” She shook her head slightly, a gentle smirk coloring her lips. “You need me to sell for you. I’m one of the best in the business. Have been for a long time. People’ve begged for my help.” Lie, lie, lie, lie. Or, half truth. She was a convincing little fucker, but far from the best in the business. But her husband’s family had taught her that enough cockiness could get anyone anything.