Synopsis: You’re a law student who performs shows at night, and you catch the eyes of a group of dangerous men.
CW: May contain mature content, poly relationship, afab!reader, very suggestive themes.
Bonus : Laces
They all stared at the laced underwear, delicately displayed on the glass table. Kyle spoke first.
“The most honest thing to do is to give it back to her. No bad conscience—“
“I’ll take it.” Johnny said, reaching forward, the other three men stood abruptly and Kyle blocked his way.
“Get off me,” Johnny pushed, “you said you didn’t want it.”
Kyle shoved him back.
“I never said that.” He defended
“You did.” Simon lied,
“I heard it too,” John nodded.
“Oh, fuck off!” Kyle exclaimed.
“I s’pose it leaves the three of us.” Johnny said ignoring him.
“I only said we should be correct about this,” Kyle cut in, “besides, I’m the one who found the thing, shouldn't I be the one to keep it?”
“You lost that advantage when you made it a group meeting.” John shrugged.
“You should have kept it for yourself, mate,” Simon added.
“I would’ve.” Johnny said, then took a frighteningly serious tone as he continued, “She always lets Simon in her room. He can steal one whenever he likes. Leave it to us, eh?” He pleaded.
“No.” Simon replied, they all glanced at him.
“You’ve stolen one before, haven’t you?” Kyle asked, Simon remained silent but Kyle’s eyes narrowed. “How many?”
“This one’s used.” Simon stated avoiding the question.
“Aye right, you can fuck off! That leaves us two. Price,” Johnny said. John’s hands fell on his hips, waiting for his proposition, “I’ll nosh your knob for it,”
“Come off it, you’ve done it for free,” he dismissed,
“I’ll suck harder—“
“We’re not fucking teenagers, are we? It’s a bloody pair of panties, we’re better than this.” Kyle tried to reason. Johnny looked almost offended.
“Speak for yerself mate, I’m fuckin' disgustin'. I'll take the fuckin' thing and have a wank over it!”
“Any other use would be a disservice, really.” Price nodded.
Simon hummed.
Kyle chewed on his lip, sensing he would lose to the three bigger men in front of him. He really should have kept this to himself.
“Well, I’m a decent bloke,” he started, “I’ll do the right thing and bring it to her” he lied, reaching for it, but was immediately blown off.
“Ye’d love that, huh, ye cheeky cunt,” Johnny snarled, his accent getting thicker as he got more riled up.
“Come on! it’s mine!” He finally admitted,
“She don' even fuckin' like ye!” Johnny yelled out frustrated.
“Should I remind you who’s currently higher on her shit list, Mr. Emotional?"
The upstairs door creaked open, and they heard footsteps as you skipped down the stairs.
Before anyone could react, Price reached forward, fingers wrapped around the lace, shoving it in his pocket right as you turned the corner.
“Hey, you guys seen my—“
Shocked by his own speed, John was unable to keep his victorious smile hidden.
He spun on his heels instead facing the window, his finger rubbing over his mouth silently laughing.
Kyle clicked his tongue, pushing off the table.
“Fuckin' bastard,” Johnny muttered furiously.
Simon, however, was the same stoic looming man, waiting for any inquiry you could have.
"Looking for something, dove?" He asked.
"My study book..." you trailed, a frown forming on your face as you took in the odd scene in front of you.
“What is going on?” You asked, instinctively looking at Johnny, his gaze softened when it met yours but you quickly looked away.
Realising you didn't mean to talk to him first.
“Did something happen?” You asked, this time to no one in particular. John finally managed to regain his composure.
“Nothing Doll, just business being…erratic this morning, I’m sorry,” John said as his fingers ran through his beard.
“Oh, I thought that maybe you'd found something…” you muttered disappointed.
John walked closer, “No, but rest assured, your issue is at the top of our priorities.”
“It's fine, I understand you have your…jobs on the side.” You said, glancing around the room hesitantly.
“What is it?” Kyle asked. You rolled your eyes, but answered anyway.
“I need to go shopping.” You said.
“With the amount of clothes you already have?”
“Not—" you sighed, "Don't be weird about it, but I need to go shop for some underwear…I was sure Simon brought a bunch but, ugh—whatever, is someone free to drive me?”
John bit his lip, turning to Simon, who held the most unbothered expression. Before he could say anything, a smile spread on your lips.
“Oh, the gentle giant’s free?” You asked, to which he tilted his head, unused to a positive nickname from you.
“Oh fuck off,” Johnny scoffed. You lost your smile, and he quickly retracted “Not you–”
“I’m sorry, didn’t want to impose.”
“You never impose,” Simon replied, immediately stepping closer.
“At least you’re always sweet,” You smiled softly.
Johnny rolled his eyes so hard he almost got a headache.
“It’s the least he can do,” Kyle muttered bitterly.
John cleared his throat, swallowing a laugh. “Sorry, love, we still have things to discuss. How about you get ready? Simon will take you out, yeah?”
“Yeah…okay...Thanks again!” you said, confusion plastered all over your face.
After you disappeared in your room and shut the door.
They all turned to the masked man.
“I think we’ve gone overboard with the stealing, haven’t we?” John said, raising a brow at his second in command.
“My mistake, I might have lost count.” He replied
“You lost count?!” Kyle yelled, “You absolute scumbag!” he walked out outraged.
mafia!Gaz can’t think of a better way to spend his time.
right here, head between your thighs, tongue between your folds. your legs trembling, your hands gripping his hair and trying (but failing) to pull away from him. you beg for mercy, for clemency, for doubting his love for you, for doubting his desire, his need to devour. his name spills from your mouth when he latches onto your clit and harshly sucks. then he releases the throbbing bud and goes right back to stroking soft licks over it.
“i said i’m sorry– Kyle, please!”
he highly doubts that.
you trying to run from him again is enough proof of that. and while he likes a good game of cat and mouse, he does not appreciate going this long without eating your pussy.
you try to twist away from his mouth, but he keeps his grasp on your hips firm. your struggle only spurs him on. it makes him want you even more. he can’t get enough of you. won’t ever get his fill for as long as he lives.
“Kyle– Kyle–” you cry out, legs flailing and twitching, thighs desperately trying to squeeze shut but fail because he shoulders them apart and settles as if he belongs there. your struggle persists, shifting and twisting, hands pushing at his head until he finally lifts up with annoyance riddled his expression.
“always running from me, love.” a huff flares his nostrils as he tugs at his tie. “always trying to keep me from having my fun.”
it comes to your attention how immaculate he looks in a suit. how easy it is for you to fall for its charm alongside his, the very weapons he uses to disarm and turn the tides on his prey. like he did with you.
“there we go.” the tie is wrapped around your wrists and bound above your head. he’s satisfied when he’s sure you can’t disturb his meal anymore. “now… where was i?”
your thighs are pinned apart from there on and you feel the deep rumble of his voice as he laps up your taste. his tongue making languid strokes inside your cunt, his nose pressed against your clit. you couldn’t get away from him if you tried. and you have. all you can do is lie there and take the onslaught of his desire whilst his name is chanted into the night like an ancient prayer.
pleasure is forcefully drawn out of you, the slow burn igniting to a roaring flame. your toes curl into his shirt when you come. he gives you a moment to breathe while unbuttoning the top button of his crisp black shirt then undoes the cuffs before going back to eating your pussy.
Synopsis: You’re a law student who performs shows at night, and you catch the eyes of a group of dangerous man.
CW: May contain mature content, poly relationship, afab!reader, very suggestive themes, stalking , drinking, smoking.
The Anchor
You shuffled through the crowd and managed to find your way to the exit, inhaling sharply as you finally felt the cool air filling your lungs and prickling at your skin.
As if by magic, you felt your heartbeat slow, and the spinning in your head gradually subsided.
You walked a bit further, getting away from the noise as fast as your wobbly legs could take you.
You shouldn’t have taken that shot. You shouldn’t have had anything for that matter. Not with the situation you were in. Coming here was a bad idea. You took another deep breath as your mind started to clear. But your breathing was still shallow.
Coco couldn’t be talking about that person , no they hadn’t sent you anything, or try to contact you it didn’t make sense.
You heard steps coming from behind you, but the person making themselves known. You turned sharply and an exasperated sigh came out from you. It was not who you expected. Surprisingly, it was Ghost.
“Really? You too? Were you just waiting outside ?” you said trying to control your breathing.
Ghost tilted his head slightly, leaning on the wall. “I just like the fresh air.”
You chuckled lightly holding your chest as to soothe yourself, “Next to a nightclub? Ah yes, the delightful smell of cigarettes and throw up.” you said taking another deep breath.
“It’s an acquired taste,” his tone was dry.
“You’re disgusting,” you moaned trying to pass it as a laugh.
“You have no idea, dove.” his tone was lighter now, eyes not leaving you. Your already restless heart shudder at the sudden nickname.
You paused, standing straight. Your hand finding your hips. “You’re a chatterbox all of the sudden.”
With the faintest shrug, he replied, “I talk when it’s needed,” again voice flat. You could never tell if he was lying, joking, or being nice.
He said nothing more, planting himself against the wall. Though he was intimidating, he wasn’t prying. You stared at each other a beat too long. Then, without a word, you moved to lean beside him. Your heart had slowed and breathing also.
“Are you keeping tabs? Do you have a tracker on me?” you asked again. He really chose the questions he wanted to answer. His presence was heavy but comforting, as if you could breath without being attacked. You closed your eyes.
For the first time this week, you had quiet. Even with the pumping bass from the club and the chatter of clients walking in and out, it wasn’t your empty apartment, with just your thoughts. The buzz of the alcohol also helped.
Coco said they were always around, but besides the club, you never saw them. Except for that time with Kyle of course.
Or maybe they did, what you learned that day was that they were fishing for information and would go to great length to get them.
It was a game to them, wasn’t it?
Would they give up after they found out? The mystery was the only interesting thing about you, you knew how to use your appeal, and were book smart, but that would eventually lose its charm, and be redundant?
You turned to look at Ghost. Would he go running inside and tell them as soon as he found out?
Leaving you outside with your heavy thoughts and fear, you inhaled deeply. Taking a moment before you would stumble again. You shifted on your feet, pulse drumming in your ear. Your lips parted hesitantly and then you said it.
Your name.
The thing you had been keeping secret. The only thing they were after. Their little game was over now.
Your eyes didn’t leave his face. Looking, searching for something—anything: a twitch of his brow, a shift in his eyes. Leave now, go tell them. Do something.
He must have felt your stare because he turned to look at you. But he showed nothing—not even a glint in his black-covered eyes.
“Nothing?” you quipped. “Really? You guys have been tormenting me for days, and when I finally give my name…you say nothing.”
He crossed his arms, you saw the lightest crinkle on the side of his eyes. Was it amusement? “Hardly a state secret, is it?” he said with a faint shrug.
You stared at him, pulling yourself from the wall. What the fuck does that mean?
“You left your purse unattended numerous times,” he said simply. “You’re distracted and getting sloppy.”
You fell silent. He was the one now studying you. You felt it as it bubbled in your chest and slowly rose to your throat and to your lips. You bit them—to no avail.
The laugh exploded out of you, sharp and loud, breaking through the weight on your chest. You held your side, the tears burning your eyes. Whether from laughter or exhaustion, you didn’t know.
“Of course!” you choked out through your laughter.
He remained silent, waiting for it to die down. You crouched on the dirty floor, your laughter slowly dying down. You took a deep breath of it with a chuckle of disbelief.
You were tired, the laughter had hurt your side. And the alcohol made your eyes sting with sleep and exhaustion.
“How long have you known?”
“About a day?” he started oh so not that long—“After you told us to stay away, a hard 27 hours really,” he said, you picked it up the hint of humour in his voice. It was subtle but there nonetheless.
You covered your mouth not to ugly laugh at the absurd confession,
“So you have been keeping tabs on me”
“We have,” he answered simply, “tracker would have been the last resort though” he pointed. You could tell now, he teasing but also telling the truth.
He was surprisingly honest. But they were absolutely out of their minds, every single one of them.
And you should be freaking out. Why aren’t you freaking out, right now?
Oh, you were tired.
And he was right. You were sloppy, blindsided. You had tools to get yourself out of this situation. The police wouldn’t be of any help—you could use them.
Even so, who turns to crime once they get a little hiccup? But it wasn’t a hiccup, was it? Though you didn’t hear from the stalker directly, you felt something ominous and needed to do something before it got worse.
You put your hand on your knees, pushing yourself up. What could you even ask? You weren’t sure what they really did.
Yeah you saw a man the roughed up. But your boss was a dick and you probably would have roughed him up too if you had the tools. how would you approach this.
“If I… hypothetically asked you for help with something…or someone, what would you do?”
“Want to rid someone?” he asked bluntly
Your eyes widened, quickly looking around to see if there were people nearby and if they heard.
“T-that’s not what I asked!” you defended. He didn’t seem convinced. “Scaring them away would be enough, no? I mean, they haven’t done anything since, but god, it’s just constant gnawing at my brain. Taking my focus. Whenever someone mentions a stranger I panic, I can’t do that. I have a life. The bar exam to study for.”
The words spilled out of you, lifting a weight you didn’t realize you carried. “I’m tired. Nothing is happening, but I just know it can’t be the end. You don’t just leave this type of note and disappear—it has to be on purpose!”
A firm hand held onto your arm, pulling you out of the space you had crawled into. He was now towering over you, his brown eyes boring into yours.
“You’re alright. Get to the point now, dove,” he said, his voice quiet but reassuring.
You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. Saying it out loud felt too real. You’d feel too defenseless. But you were already here. “They found my house,” you whispered, barely audible. “There is nothing I can do but sit and wait…”
Ghost’s head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing. “What? When?” The word was low, almost a growl, sending shivers over your body, and the silence that followed seemed to make the air heavier.
You blinked and tried to pull away, but his gloved hand was holding you firmly in the same spot. It wasn’t painful, just unescapable.
“Hum… that day after I told you to stay away,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I went home and I found flowers in front of my apartment building.”
His eyes darkened under the already dim light. “Fucking hell, Y/n,” he muttered, his voice colder.
“I told the police, and after nothing happened, I thought it was over.” You started to stammer.
“We’re not discussing this here.” He pulled you along, your feet struggling to keep up with his long stride.
“W-wait, what are you doing?”
His tight grip and the evident tension in his shoulders made your heart pound harder with every step.
He wasn’t bringing you to the club but to a car—a black SUV with tinted windows. Your eyes darted around, noting how empty the streets were all of a sudden. How had you gotten so far away in such a short amount of time?
Oh my god, you were getting kidnapped!
You dug your feet to the ground, “Ghost, wait! Let’s not be rash—I changed my mind!” you try pulling away him, but it was like trying to move a mountain.
He opened the car door. “Get in!” he ordered.
You took a step back, trying to get away.
“You know what? I think—”
Before you could say more, you were hoisted up and shoved inside. You stumbled, your hand gripping something—someone—for support.
You looked up, meeting Price's blue eyes. The door slammed shut behind you.
“Hello, darling.” His voice resonated in your chest. Were they all just…here? What is happening right now.
“Is this a fucking reunion?” you muttered
“Sorry for the wait, I can’t show my face in there,” he smiled, his eyes falling from your face to the small, revealing dress. From this angle, he had a perfect view. “Nice dress,” he added.
You cleared your throat while sitting properly, fixing yourself. The car smelled strongly of leather and cigars. He was the culprit.
You turned to the door trying to pull it open, but it remained locked no matter how hard you pulled on the handle.
“Child safety,” he explained. You turned to him, swallowing hard, as your heart pounded in your chest. It was a bit infuriating how amused he was by this. “My side can open. Want to climb over and try?” he playfully asked, pointing at the door to his side.
You thought about it, but you would have to straddle his lap. Yeah, no—that was a trap. And that mischievous little smile only confirmed it. You looked at the front thinking you could climb by the passenger seat.
Before you could decide, the door behind you opened. Kyle stood there with a proud grin.
“Scoot, beautiful,” Kyle said, climbing in without waiting for an answer, nudging you closer to Price.
His hand brushed your shoulder lightly, sliding down you back, sending an unintended shiver down your spine.
Price, his firm grip guided you to sit properly. You kept getting handled tonight.
You quickly fixed your dress again avoiding his gaze. Why were you getting shy? It really wasn’t like you, how embarrassing.
Ghost got into the passenger seat while Johnny got in the driver's seat, grumbling to himself.
“Don’t be a baby, and drive,” Kyle teased, nudging the seat in front.
Your eyes widened as you heard the humming of the car as it started. Right! Immediate danger!
“Where are you taking me? What about Coco?” you asked, looking around.
“You’re not a map, she can find her way home.” Ghost said
“We have more pressing matters,” Kyle buckled the seatbelt over you. “Getting the hell out of here,” he added with a wink.
You frowned, shaking your head, but they were already driving off.
“N-no, she brought me here, and I—”
“Yeah, and we’ll deal with that too,” Johnny muttered.
You chewed on your lips, your heart racing as you tried to find something else.
“My bag… I have things in my bag. If I leave it behind—”
“I got it,” Ghost said. “Your phone too. Now stop finding excuses. We are not going back there.” he said looking at you over his shoulder. You closed your mouth and sat back.
You were in trouble. You’d tried to be brave, but now look at you—waiting, helpless. Still, they wouldn’t hurt you, right?
Oh my god, what did you get yourself into?
Masterlist - Next
[A/N] For the record, I would NEVER pass on the chance of straddling Jonathan Price even for a second. They'd have to tear me away from his body!
On another note I'm on my post now think later phase, so if see mistakes, no you didn't. <3
Synopsis: You’re a law student who performs shows at night, and you catch the eyes of a group of dangerous man.
CW: May contain mature content, poly relationship, afab!reader, very suggestive themes, manipulation tactics, Stalking (Not the boys, so it's not fun.)
Previous
Disruption
You let your guard down. You should’ve known better. He seemed easy to read, but he’d played you the whole time. All that for a bit of information? Why did they care so much? It’s not like you were the minister's daughter. Can’t a girl have some privacy? You’d worked there for years without an issue, but now you were always on edge.
“Wow, well played,” you spat out, tightening your grip on your bag.
“I know how you feel right now, but I need you to stay focused, yeah?”
“Soap was funny—charming, even. But you? You’re a fucking asshole,” you snapped. “Scaring information out of me? Really? Was there even someone following us?” You glanced around, your voice sharp.
You had followed a random man, sketchy man, into an alley because he just pointed at a man next to a car. What if it was a random stranger? Or a friend of his?
Kyle tilted his head, “Yes, there was. I had no need for theatrics. I was doing just fine without all that.”
That stung. Your frustration must have shown because he quickly added, “Wrong choice of words. I’m sorry.”
His tone had shifted since the café. The easygoing charm was still there, but now it felt colder, more calculated, a little disinterested.
It was really just an act before, and your ego had taken a hit. You clenched your fist, trying to figure out how he’d known to find you outside the club. Had they followed you?
Then it hit you, and your jaw tightened.
“I lost my loyalty card. It was you, wasn’t it? That’s how you found the café!”
Kyle exhaled through his nose, his lips twitching slightly. “No. It wasn’t me,” he said calmly, though a slight hesitation betrayed him. “But yes, that’s how I found it.”
Your stomach twisted. He had stolen from you, followed and now tricked you.
You opened your bag, grabbing your phone. You needed to get away from him. Your heart pounded as you walked away from him.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone still even but with a hint of urgency as he followed you. You quickened your pace, your grip tightening on your phone.
“Don’t follow me, you lunatic!” you said, brushing your fingers over the keypad. You needed to call the police on this crazy man.
Kyle stepped in front of you, gently but skillfully taking the phone from your hand. His frustration was clear, but his movements were deliberate, not aggressive. Your eyes widened.
“What the hell! Give it back!”
“I’m trying to help you here,” His voice stayed controlled, “You’re smarter than this. Use your head, will you?” Before his words were challenging, amusing even now it was just grating to you.
“Oh, fuck you!” you snapped, glaring at him. He didn’t flinch.
That was the most frustrating part. He was calm, completely unfazed by your anger.
He should at least look the slightest bit annoyed, frustrated, even a little frown would have helped.
“You lied to me!”
“No,” Kyle said “You made assumptions. I didn’t bother correcting you. You were close, though.” he smiled.
He shouldn’t have. His smile made your chest tighten, heat rising within you.
“Close? No I wasn't, I didn't realize how off the rails you are!”
Kyle let out a slow breath, crossing his arms as if preparing for a lecture. “Why would I mention Soap if I were trying to hide something? Give me some credit, will you? You think I spent hours outside that bloody café for fun?” He stated. Your mouth dropped, and he closed his eyes, holding his hands up, recalculating his words.
“I know how that sounds, but it wasn’t like that. I wasn’t following you. I was just observing. I had no intention of scaring or harming you.”
You blinked at him, your brain short-circuiting for a second. Was that supposed to make it sound better?
The worst part wasn’t what he’d said. It was how he’d said it. Like he truly believed that waiting in a café to study your patterns and figure out how to approach you wasn’t completely insane.
“Seriously?” you managed, your voice tight with disbelief. “That’s your idea of being considerate?”
Kyle frowned slightly, his tone, again, maddeningly calm. “You’re not easy to approach. I had to be mindful and tactical.”
Oh my god, he thinks this is a sales pitch. You stared at him, he was serious—dead serious.
“You know what? Keep the damn phone.” you mumbled, turning to walk away.
Kyle raised a brow. “Wait,” he called after you.
You tried to be hasty, but as you walked out of the alley, a car stopped in front of you. Tires screeching, nearly running you over. Were there only crazy people here today?
The door opened only to reveal Soap. His usual shit eating grin plastered on his lips, as he glanced between you and Kyle.
“There she is! Already givin’ Kyle a headache, are ye?” Soap said, his voice lilting the air with amusement. Kyle huffed, mumbling something you didn’t quite catch.
Soap ignored him, his grin widening as he looked at you taking all your attention. “Don’t mind him, love. He's a bit tone deaf at times, but harmless. You, on the other hand…if looks could kill.” He gave an exaggerated whistle, making you roll your eyes despite yourself. “Go on, love, get in the car. We’ll talk it out, aye?”
“I’m not going anywhere with you two! Get lost, and take your crazy friend with you!”
“Don’t worry, I’m not coming along.” Kyle said, handing back your phone. “Here. You’ll be safe with him. Go.”
You hesitantly took the phone from him, expecting some trick. But he only looked at Johnny, his head tilting slightly, his index finger twirling, mentioning something. Johnny nodded and turned to you again.
"See? It’s just you and me, love.” He opened the passenger door, stepping back, giving you space.
You hesitated. Dealing with Soap for a few minutes was better than staying here and risking…whatever this mess was. He was annoying, sure, but he wasn’t studying like a school project.
“Fine, but if you so much as breathe wrong, I’m jumping out. Got it?”
“Deal,” he grinned. “I’ll even hold my breath if it helps.”
You rolled your eyes as you slid inside the car.
During the ride you focused on the passing street, your mind wandering elsewhere remembering Kyle's words.
Asshole. You scowled at your reflection in the window. You should’ve never followed him.
The car slowed, pulling you from your thoughts. When you glanced up, your brows furrowed. This wasn’t the club.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Someone wants to see you,” he quipped, his grin softening the edge of your nerves.
You sighed but got out, walking into the building. As you got inside, it was clear it was a nightclub. Another of their properties you guessed. It was sleek, polished. Too fancy for your tastes. The ceilings stretched high above, and the bar gleamed under dim lighting. There were some people there already working, preparing for the night.
“Come on, lassie,” Soap said, tugging your hand gently. His grip was firmer than Kyle’s, but warm, grounding. You didn’t want to admit it, but it was comforting.
He led you deeper into the building until you reached a door. He knocked once before pushing it open.
Inside, Price sat behind a desk, his broad frame relaxed. Ghost stood nearby, his imposing figure casting long shadows against the wall. Both of their gazes locked on you immediately.
Maybe you shouldn’t have let him bring you here. Kyle and Soap had felt less intimidating. But these two were something else entirely.
“I bring a little treat,” Soap said brightly, his tone cutting through the tension.
Their eyes flicked to your intertwined hands. You tried to pull away, but Soap’s grip stayed firm. When you glared at him, he just smiled, nudging you lightly.
“Hello, darling,” Price spoke up.
“Mr. Price,” you answer flatly, “ Soap told me you wanted to see me”
“Yes, I was made aware of a little incident earlier, please sit.” He gestured to you but you shook your head. You had no intention of staying longer than you needed. You were only here because Johnny had charmed you into it.
“The only incident was one of your men being invasive.” you said, finally pulling away from Johnny. “ You should keep them in check he—”
“I’m sorry love, but that is not what I’m talking about,” He said. As expected he knew what Kyle was up to and even if he didn’t there would have been no repercussion.
“A patron has been causing you trouble?” he asked, “why haven't you said anything?” he said firmly.
You frowned. Why would you tell him? He was not the authorities. If anything that might cause more trouble for the club.
“I asked you a question,” he said this time his voice was more authoritative. He was not joking or letting you go without an answer.
“ It’s nothing you need to worry about,” you said, shaking your head. Ghost tilted his head slightly but said nothing. Still selling the shit out of his name. What was it with these men and the staring? You shifted on your feet a little.
Your eyes met Price's; he looked very much unamused. Jesus did he always have to be this intense. He stood up slowly walking around the desk. You shift again. Staying composed was hard, you unconsciously took a step where Johnny was.
“Let me make this clear,” Price said, crossing his arms. “This is my club. My business.”
“I’m not here to humour you. You are one of the main attractions of the club, so your safety is a priority, if patrons are causing you trouble, they are causing me trouble. If something’s going on, you’ll tell me. End of discussion”
You nodded. “Good,” he gruffed. He cocked his head, eyes pinning you down. “Speak.”
“I get gifts sometimes. It’s always at the club—flowers, money, other stuff. But it stopped recently.”
“When?” He asked.
“A week or so,” you explained, “They probably lost interest,”
“Or they got closer, and the gifts aren’t needed anymore,” Johnny said, his tone more serious than usual. “Think about it. That lines up with when Price took over the club. If it’s someone who knows us, they’d back off and be watchin’ for you when you’re alone.”
You tried to remain calm, but his words sent a chill down your spine. No. They were mistaken. They had to be.
“Okay, everything isn’t about you.” You said shooting him a glare “Like I said these kinds of things happen, it's not a big deal.”
They would not scare you. You weren’t a damsel that would run to their arms. That’s exactly what they wanted, you were sure of it.
“Kyle was making a fuss over a man who was probably just trying to get in his car” You explained.
“He wouldn’t make that mistake” Price corrected.
“Maybe you're just involved in things that make you think the world is after you, but for normal people, these kinds of things are just coincidence.” you explained.
“And if it’s not?”
You rolled your eyes. “They’re just desperate men with fantasies. I know how to handle myself, I’ve done it long before you arrived.”
Price stepped closer, his tone lowering. “I’m not doubting that. But what happens if like today, they go from fantasies to actions. I can't protect you if I don't know where the threat is coming from.” he was not about to intimidate you into submission.
“I don’t know how you usually proceed, but this…” you gesture to everyone in the room “is work, you have absolutely no say in what happens in my personal life.”
You stepped closer, masking your nerves with false confidence. “If I get harassed at the club, I’ll tell you. Outside of that? It’s my problem. Fire me if that bothers you.” you said though you rather hate if it happened, but you would not let this man you barely knew talk to you this way.
The silence stretched between you.
“No? Okay then, see you at work boss!” You said walking out of the office.
Soap followed you shortly after. You quicken your pace but these men were quick on their feet.
“Bonnie! I'll drive you home,”
“No thank you,” you said, not stopping your pace, but he blocked your way and you licked your lips in frustration.
“You get where we’re comin’ from, aye? We know next to nothin’ about you, and that means you’ve got no safety outside the club. What if somethin’ happens?” His voice dropped its usual playfulness, serious now, though still softer than Price. He wasn’t going to charm his way through this one.
“Why should I tell you anything? What difference would it make? You’ll just follow me and invade my space, isn’t it what you guys already do? One stalker or the other, doesn't make much difference to me,” you shrugged, resigned.
“Look, I’ll give ye that—we went wrong about it. Shouldn’t’ve done that. But right now, we’re tryin’ to look out for you.”
“Why? You said it yourself, you know nothing about me. You want to be my protection? Is it because you’re attracted, you’re curious, scared of losing the main attraction? What happens when you lose interest? When you find another girl to fawn over? What then? I’ll just be on my own again, defending myself?” he opened his mouth to speak but you stopped him.
“Don’t give me excuses,” you shook your head “I’ll still be at the club, we’ll have our little banter, it’s okay, I’ll humour you, other than that, stay away from me, understood?”
He hesitated but nodded, “Fair enough. I’ll give ye my number,” he muttered, pulling out his phone. He paused, his gaze searching yours. “If anythin’ happens—anything at all…”
“I’ll call the police. Don’t worry. I’ll see you at the club.” you walked out.
——
You stepped off the bus, exhaustion dragging at your feet. You tightened your grip on your jacket and hurried toward your apartment building, desperate to get home.
Your steps slowed as you noticed something sitting on the stairs. A pot—no, a bouquet of flowers. How cute, you thought absently. Someone must’ve wanted to surprise their significant other. But why leave it outside this late?
You looked around. Nothing. No one.
Curious, you crouched to check for a name, thinking you could put them inside. Instead, you froze. The words on the card hit like a gut punch, knocking the air from your lungs.
‘I gave you my heart, and you crushed it. Marigolds for grief—you’ll learn.’
The handwriting. Familiar. The same cursive from all the notes on the gift you’d received before.
You shot up, the note crumpling in your shaking hands. Your head whipped around, searching. The street was empty. Eerily silent.
Those flowers were for you and you were sure of it.
They were always red tulips. Sweet, bright, and full of warmth. That’s why you hadn’t suspected a thing. But these weren’t tulips. These were marigolds. And they weren’t at the club. They were here, in front of your building.
Your hands shook as you unlocked your door and stumbled inside. You set the flowers on the table and pulled out your phone, searching.
Marigolds: grief. Betrayal. Jealousy.
Your breath caught in your throat. You shook your head, trying to clear your mind.
It’s okay. Everything was fine.
Yes, it was real. The gifts, the stalking. It wasn't just a coincidence. But you could handle it. You’d call the police and be done with it.
“Everything will be fine,” you whispered, clutching the phone tighter.
Just fine.
Masterlist - Next
If you love marigolds, I’m sorry! They truly are beautiful flowers, and depending on where you’re from, they carry some lovely meanings. I just… needed them to be ominous this time.
Synopsis: You’re a law student who performs shows at night, and you catch the eyes of a group of dangerous man.
CW: May contain mature content, poly relationship, afab!reader, very suggestive themes, Stalking (Not the boys, so it's not fun.)
Previous
Respite
It had been a few days since the incident at the café. As far as you knew, the man had respected your privacy. Johnny still talked to you, he would ask questions at times, nothing too personal, more related to your preferences. Probably due to the comment about not knowing you.
Though he tried to raise your morale, more likely to gain your favors. You were spiraling.
The stalking had stopped. No marigolds. No notes, or creepy little gifts. Nothing radio silence? You should be relieved but it only unnerved you. Were they waiting, watching?
They were trying to scare you. They had to be. That same night you told the police, but all they said they could do was make a report. No crime had been committed. He hadn’t broken into your house. The dismissal made your blood boil. Did something actually need to happen before they’d intervene? What a load of shit.
Someone had found out where you lived. That alone was utterly terrifying. You couldn’t sleep or study.
The thought of staying in a hotel crossed your mind, but that would cost money, and you weren’t sure they wouldn’t find you there, too.
You walked to the club, brushing the thoughts away. At least they hadn’t followed you there anymore. Johnny’s words, which had unsettled you at first, now brought a small bit of relief.
They were too scared to come to the club.
That bit of respite was deserved after all the weirdness. You thought.
Tonight was the last night before the club closed for renovations. You had to give it your all and get as many tips as you could. You were determined. You’d find a job in a café or something. You had refused the gig Price had proposed to you, not that he didn’t ask the other girls too. Just that this break would be good for you. But also you felt that it would be a trap.
Just as you reach the back entrance, in the corner of your eyes though you catch a glimpse of something your heart drops. Your head turned to the trash bin, a red color next to it catching your attention. It was a common pattern with the other gifts.
You hesitated walking towards it. It was similar to one that you had had before.
Was it them? Did they decide to show up again? What did they leave this time? You reached for the ribbon, it was hanging from the closed bin.
Your mind raced. Was it like in those movies, where you would open that bin and find a bloody finger or something.
Don't be a finger, don’t be a finger, don’t be a finger!
You opened it and sigh loudly.
“Oh thank god…” you mumbled, reaching to grab the piece of a costume looking at it.
A stupid piece of fucking fabric. God you were losing it.
You took a deep breath, cleared your throat pushing away the lump that had formed and put the thing back in the bin. Well that was a pointless fright.
When you turned around, your heart leapt as your eyes met the looming figure of Ghost.
You jumped, covering your mouth holding back the screech that almost came out of you.
“Jesus! Announce yourself, man!” you spat, unable to contain your irritation.
He didn’t react, his dark eyes flickered from the bin back to you, as if pondering.
Great. Now you probably looked crazy.
He was the only one who hadn’t tried to talk to you. Not once. And after seeing you going through trash, he probably never would.
“What, unfamiliar with dumpster divers?” you quipped, trying to regain your dignity.
There was a pause, his eyes narrowed a bit, was clearly holding back a comment.
He stepped towards you, and put the box next to your feet. He stood back straight towering you, as he looked at you for a moment before starting his walk back.
“I-I’m not actually…”
He disappeared inside not giving you time to explain.
Fucking great!
You looked to the sky, sighing he was going to tell them, wasn’t he. Heading inside you brace yourself. You paused when you heard snickering. Record time!
Turning your attention to the group of men sitting by the bar, your grip tightened on your bag.
“Is the pay not good enough, love?” Price asked, tilting his head. “That job offer still stands, you know,” he added, though he was teasing there was a hint of truth in his words.
“It was a joke!” You defend, “I wasn’t actually–” You cut yourself, realizing they were clearly trying to get under your skin. Besides, someone was snickering a bit too loudly for your liking. Your eyes narrowed on Kyle, raising a brow in annoyance.
“What are you laughing at, weirdo?” You yelled. “Don’t you have some elementary school kids to impress with your reading comprehension skill”
“Care to join? I hear they’ve got some real treasures in those bins.” He grinned, unbothered.
“Bite me!” You shot back, storming off to the dressing room.
You drop your bag dramatically at your station, before sitting down. Licking the inside of your mouth in frustration. The uneasiness from earlier had subsided with such short interaction. More like your anger was redirected.
You grab your makeup brushes, readying yourself. You weren’t late this time, so you had plenty of room to get set up.
After getting in makeup and outfit, you shuffle to the back of the stage. An uneasy feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach. You push a smile and step on stage, your fur coat held tight against your skin.
You strutted towards the center of the stage. Bracing yourself as you could feel the eyes on you. Ignoring how the attention that usually made you giddy and fulfilled now felt prickly and irritating.
You knew the stalker was a patron, and they probably would be watching. But there were so many of them, you wouldn’t be able to pinpoint who it was. You forced a bright smile and carried on, not letting it your anxiety. Pushing your playful side out
It was a simple peel set, no need for signing this time. You’d strip and get the hell out of here.
As the first note of I just want to make love to you started playing.
You lowered the coat of your shoulder off your shoulder slightly. Then faked a shiver before quickly pulling it back over your shoulder, a coy smile spreading across your lips. You could hear a few teasing protests from the audience.
Slowly, teasingly, you let the coat slide down your shoulders once more, shaking the faux fur to the rhythm of the song. Then dramatically letting it drop to the floor revealing the red laced undergarment.
Cheers erupted around you, and your eyes flicked around the crowd. He could be anyone of these people. You pushed back the nervousness, forcing your hips to sway.
You pulled at the end of your glove, feigning frustration as you bent over, slipping it between your parted legs. Reaching behind and pulling it off, the fabric brushing against the lace of your panties, and you bit your lip, feeling the material slip free, the movement drawing whistles and hoots from the audience. You gave a playful wiggle of your hips to the tempo, before standing again, holding the glove high in victory.
You scanned the room again, finding yourself looking for the only person who could pull you out of your head right now—Johnny.
He had a way of making everything less sinister and more playful and god did you need that right now.
And there he was, his usual adoring gaze. You felt the faintest flutter in your chest. You need to do crowd work and he would be your saving grace.
You walked toward the audience, tugging on your second glove pretending to struggle, the pouting dramatically. The crowd laughed.
With a loud sigh, you scanned the room, your gaze landing back on Johnny. You paused, tilting your head, before making your way to him. He shifted on his seat, his smile faltering.
You held your gloved hand to him. For a moment, he looked genuinely surprised, but his expression quickly shifted to a sly smirk. Leaning forward, he bit the end of glove, his eyes never leaving yours.
You gasped, covering your mouth, looking around the crowd. You pulled at your end the fabric peeling it right off. With the glove still in his mouth, he grinned widely.
Ignoring the way your heart leaped, you shook your head at him faking disapproval, he shrugged lightly. You turned your heels, the weight on your chest lifting with every step you took towards the stage.
You continued your set, your confidence fully returned. The music ended and the light dimmed, you hurried off stage, your heart was pounding out of your chest, proud that you managed to pull through.
That little play would cost you. You just know it. But for a minute you stop thinking about…oh no you were back at your dread.
You continued your way back, your eyes landing on him again—Ghost. Maybe it was the closing night, but the boys seemed unusually present today.
What was he doing backstage? He was never there. It felt like he was keeping watch, over something or someone.
His attention shifted to you. As you walk down the stairs. Your coat was now covering you again.
"Are you standing guard?" you asked, folding your arms. He never talked to you but had no issue ratting you out earlier. That irritated you.
“Do you ever talk, or are you just a glorified scarecrow?” you asked,
Your eyes stayed on him, searching for a reaction. He didn’t respond, he only tilted his head as expected. You sigh and lean on the wall turning your attention to your aching heels.
“Depends on the intent” His voice rumbled suddenly, catching you off guard. “Do you want me to talk or scare someone for ya?”
Your head snapped toward him, your back instinctively straightening. His voice was deeper than you expected, but it fit him perfectly. You swallowed.
Was he joking? You couldn’t tell. Not with the mask obscuring his face and his eyes giving nothing away. His words vibrated in your chest as he spoke again.
“Careful, now. Choose wisely,” his tone was flat. Was he really offering, or just messing with you?
You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, a hand pushed you toward the dressing room.
“Hurry! We need to prepare for the next one,” someone called. You stumbled forward.
Ghost’s eyes followed you until you disappeared into the room.
Huh.
You sat at your station. Changing your wig for the next set. You changed your lipstick, staring at your reflection as the chatter around you blurred into a muffled hum.
Ghost's proposition stuck with you. It made you realize something.
You spend the whole night spiraling, letting that stalker pull at every little moment you had been enjoying. It was the last night before a while damn it! You were supposed to enjoy it to the fullest.
You were not fighting, you were rolling over and taking it. Someone did get to your home, then was toying with you. That pissed you off to no end.
This was the last night for a while. You had to make it memorable.
Grabbing your feathers, you smiled brightly at the mirror in front of you. It didn’t feel right.
Didn’t matter. You’d fake it until it did.
Masterlist - Next
I spent so many hours watching burlesque dancers, and oh my god, research has never been so delightful. I might have lost track of time. Ahh ✨women✨~
