hunters for hire

Oona isn’t too surprised by his response, Hopkins tended to be witty. She smiles at him slowly, “Little bit of both.” Hopping down from her perch, she walks until she’s toe to toe with him. Somehow, she’s even shorter than Kizzy. The Marigas sometimes resembled nesting dolls. 

“She tell you to lay low, huh?” She’s leaning in like it’s a big secret, head tilted up so she can see him. Kizzy is obviously perturbed across the shoppe, now angrily stacking books.

Matt grins, but he keeps sweeping across the books without looking up to greet her properly. He knew Kizzy was trying her best to hide him, but he came here on purpose even though he denied it. Matt was curious after all, did all of her family have the same intelligence and beauty? Most likely.

    Her heart feels like it’s going to explode, watching him act like this. She knows tomorrow might be a horrible day, but she doesn’t want to think about it. Today was a good day, and she wanted to live in today. She’d begun to lose hope that there would be any good days at all. Smiling almost shyly, she feels her cheeks flush a soft pink. It’s been awhile since he turned that charm on to her. “Thinking,” she murmurs, then looks up at him through her lashes. That sweet look she always gives him when he’s made her happy. “About you.”

About him and the kids, how they used to play in the backyard. She would watch from here sometimes, as he provided her with alone time to get work done for the Council. The kids loved chasing their papi around the yard, tackling him all together while Ari hit him in the head with her sippy cup. Her nose crinkles in amusement at the memory, curling her feet tighter under her bottom.

“Me?” He smiled and leaned forward toward her. He had an overwhelming need to have his hands on her, just to hold her in his arms and never let go. But he knows he’s not whole, so he stays where he is for now, happy to even be able to share these light days with her. “What a coincidence, me too.” He laughed.

    Kizzy was ashamed of a lot of things. Mostly, that shame was learned. She was ashamed of being a witch. She was ashamed of being a dragon. She was ashamed of being in love. What fucking kills her is that Matt can erase every ounce of that shame with a few laps of his skilled tongue. Her back is arching clear off the bed like he has his tongue buried inside of her rather than tracing the pretty picture her scales made.

     "  F-          ah-       fuck!“

    She was good at hiding things, all sorts of things. From him and from Lissie, from her family and from the Council. She had a little something called control. But not tonight, no he made that fly out the window. When his fingers first brushed them, she hadn’t even noticed her scales yet. And then there’d been that brief moment of insecurity; he’d find her disgusting, recoil, laugh. The last thing she was expecting was for him to get off on it. Just knowing that he did had her skin overheating but the knowledge of that and what he was doing to her? Scales broke out in patterns across her neck and spiraled up her cheek. They twisted and turned in circles on her breasts, appearing and then fading slow so that he could watch them flicker. And it was entirely her dragon’s doing. Her words are hot against his mouth, her own open to steal his breath.

        "You’ve never had me this worked up before.”

Matt captures her lips in a lingering kiss before moving to tease her more. He’s disappointed he never brought her to this level of pleasure before, but now that he knows it exists he wants to carry her there every time.

“Never got you this worked up before?” He teases in-between licks to her glowing scales, "Are you sure? What about that one time on your desk?" He loved her scales, they didn’t burn his tongue in the way a hot pan might burn his hand, it was more like the sensation of the warm sun shining against his bare skin. Similar to a sweet, fresh slice of razzleberry pie. It was absolutely delicious.

    Arrogance dripped from this one. It made Kizzy want to vomit. She rolls her eyes, shoving a few bags back into one of his hands. “You’re the Hopkins. I’m sure you were bred to kill innocent witches while sipping the proper wine for the occassion.” She had a right to be snippy, the fucker tried to kill her for absolutely no reason. And now he was following her with the scent of confusion and arousal, as if she would even think to open up to him.

He didn't interest her whatsoever. What interested her was who sent him after her, and if they were going to send more idiots like him. He really should learn to do his own thorough research. And what fights to pick. The only thing keeping her from disappearing on him around the next corner is she wants to make sure he was only after her, and that those under her care are safe.

Matt had played hard to get before, but this had to take the cake. She was making it very difficult and now he almost doesn’t even want to go home with her. Did he really need those answers? He should probably find out if someone is trying to rid the world of his family. He bit the bullet and laughed, “Okay, I’ll pick the best wine they’ve got.”

The little girl in her chest is jumping for joy. Her father was just feet from her, behind her, like she always wanted him to be. The woman standing before him though, she had to maintain her calm. To pretend like the last thing she wants to do is hold onto him until the world falls away around them.

Staring at her feet for a moment, she lets him hang onto the silence. “Are you?” she asks in a level voice, as if that isn’t the only compliment that ever mattered to her. “That’s cute.” Smirk back in place, she looks over her shoulder at him and gestures with her chin. “Come on, I’m starving. There’s a deli on the corner.”

If someone were to tell him he was going to meet a teenage girl, one that looked too much like Kizzy, in a bar and want to get to know her, he would tell them they’re insane. Lay off the drink, keep your prophecies to yourself, et cetera. His questions keep swirling in his mind as he nods to catch up with her, “I am, your moves have a flair that reminds me of someone I know.”

   "And I’m disappointed that you’re a Hopkins.       Only reason you’re still breathing.“

Clara pauses in tidying up to shoot him a look.

She wouldn’t respond to his excuses, he should know better. Still, she didn’t want to drive him away from Kizzy. The two witches were inextricably linked, and he couldn’t have one without the other. Where Kizzy went, Clara went, and if Clara’s relationship with Matt ended badly… Well, she wasn’t about to make Kizzy chose. Looking back down at her soapy hands, she takes a deep breath.

“You left us because you’re selfish, Matt. I’m not going to argue about it.” Rinsing her hands in the luke warm water from the faucet, her words come together slowly. “Kizzy needed you, there were these… Well, she’ll fill you in. I’m guessing you haven’t seen her yet. Small fish first, right?” She turns the tap off, finally looking at him again. 

There’s no convincing her, it was both annoying and helpful. Clara was good at calling people on their bullshit, so Matt kept his mouth shut and stared at her as she spoke. The more she said, the more irritated he became. Sometimes it’s hard for Matt to mask his feelings, other times he’s an open book and the rage is slowly spilling out.

Kizzy laughs as he kisses her belly, hands immediately burying in his curls. Of course he’d be happy, why would she be nervous? Well, there was the fact that less than an hour ago she was begging him to stay the night. But Matt loved his family, dearly, and she shouldn’t forget that.

“What will your mom have to say about that?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

Sometimes she feels like he’s closer to her height kneeling than standing. Gently, she kisses him until her throat constricts with the need to breathe. And until she hears the soft pitter patter of little feet on the kitchen tile. Looking over at the doorway, she smiles at their daughter. “What are you doing up, you little sneak?”

“You really don’t want to know what my mother would say.” he narrows his eyes and looks in the general direction of Yorkshire. They will never agree about the name, she thought it was beautiful and he thinks it’s literally just a mistake all around.

Oona sat on the counter’s edge, slowly turning one of the many crystal balls in Kizzy’s shoppe in her hand. Her mind is elsewhere, eyes trained on the witch hunter pretending to browse the books. She can smell him out a mile away. A Hopkins, there’s fire in his blood. She can smell it. Setting the crystal ball down, she gestures to him with her chin. “How long you been sleeping with my sister?”

The ridiculously long title had kept his attention for all of two seconds before he moved his fingers across to the next one. It was boring having to be on his best behavior, but why on earth he actually did care was beyond him. Keep Kizzy happy, a happy Kizzy meant great sex. Though he couldn’t ever recall them having anything less than great now that he thought of it. Matt sighs and sweeps his fingers over the next book, but before he can read it she’s talking to him.

“Flatterer,” Kizzy mutters to Tsura across her father and the little girl is in stitches. Laughing herself, she stands up to leave them to it.

Tsura has fallen against her father’s shoulder, little breaths barely making her way past her giggles. “You’re silly, Daddy,” she finally gets out, wiping her eyes. “Mommy is beautiful.”

As Kizzy walks away, Noah swings to slap her butt and chuckles when he barely misses. How could he deny his love for that booty.