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sweeney's lore

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You saw a dark figure looming in the shadows of the trees behind the bar. Of course Will knew nothing about adequate street lights that would make bar hoppers feel much safer as they walked to their car at night.

No matter, you wanted to ignore the looming presence and continue to your car. Was it possible to be hung over before sleeping on alcohol? Cause that was the exact thought running through your mind to distract you from possible homicide.

You heard leaves snap as the presence stepped forward, you just barely crossing paths. Now you could tell he was definitely a man, an unmistakable mohawk sprung from his head. It was dark but not too dark that you couldn't see his face. He was staring at you, bottom lip perched in between his teeth.

You stopped to look at him, something you would have never done and were in fact surprised your mind told you to do so. The height difference was comical, he looked down at you with eyes filled with intensity.

You weren't scared, coming from the family you did taught you exactly how to defend yourself, no matter how tall or muscular the person was. And he was both of those things.There were no words for a few moments, both of you were trying to understand what exactly was going on. There was an electricity between you and the man, an unmistakable charge that willed you to want to be closer. Your brain was practically begging you to step closer, the heat coming from his body grew as he took a step towards you.

His western button down caught your attention, in fact his whole outfit did. A blue jean jacket, dark tweed pants and very scuffed up boots. With his bright ginger hair and beard, he looked like a page out of an old-timey newspaper ad. Definitely advertising a strong alcohol you would want to get your hands on.

"..Buile" he froze at the sound of your voice, low and mild that rang against his ears. You didn't know how you knew his name, why you said it, and definitely didn't understand how you felt somehow that you knew him.

"It is you" when he finally spoke his voice was low and deep, that too sounded familiar. Once he closed the distance between you two you could finally see how fiery red his mane was. A thick beard that matched accompanied his strong jaw. His eyes were a hazel mix that sunk deep into the recesses of your mind. That gaze was familiar. But where?

"H-How do I..what's going on?"

"I thought I'd neva see you again. The last time I did you were runnin' so fast, I just want ya t'know I killed every last one of 'em." You had almost no clue what he was referring too and he had just admitted he was a murderer. Was he drunk? "Although, that was many moons ago...but now here you are again, right in front of me." The tall man smiled, a grin so wide you almost fell back in awe. He was handsome, yes, but that wasn't it. You were pulled to him in a sort of attraction that went deep beyond surface. Your core was on fire under his gaze and you had no idea why your body was betraying you so intensely. You see gorgeous guys all the time, hell, even sleep with some 9s and 10s front time to time. But this man, this man was entirely something else.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Your words were a lot harsher sounding than intended, but the man was in no way affected. He even chuckled at your brashness.

"I can explain it all to you Luna, refresh your memory, but it's fuckin' cold out here, yeah? Do you want to go with me?" Now you were the one that was rigid. How did he know your name? A man you had never met before, never seen before, knew your name and you knew his. It had to be some strange coincidence. Maybe in a drunken stupor you slept with him one night and just completely blacked it out. Maybe. But you didn't 'black out' sex pretty much ever, that wasn't your thing to just not remember it. And after years of cultivation, you were an expert in knowing your alcohol limit. You knew exactly when the next drink would tip you over into unbearableness.

"You know my name" it came out as more of a question which he ignored altogether. His eyes scanned your body and you swore you saw a bright glimmer in his irises when they returned to your face. What the fuck?

"Where shall we go mo ghrá?" He switched to the other side of you, still eyeing you like he was in disbelief. "My place then." You almost wanted to get in you car and just leave, do the rational thing instead of going somewhere with a complete stranger. But your mind wouldn't let you do that. Your rational side was somehow convincing you to go with this unknown man, forcing your feet to follow behind him. The words 'mo ghrá' repeated in your ears. 'My love'.

He continued walking, never looking back as if he just knew you would be following him. He stopped at a tan old truck and opened the passenger door for you. You looked up at him, still trying to decide if this was a good idea. He gave you a slight nod and a warm smile, a comfort you felt you had experienced from him before. How? You got in after all, tucking your feet in as he shut the door with a thud. The truck was definitely older, probably older than you, and that was saying something.

He pulled forcefully on his door, it was reluctant to open but after another forceful pull it did. The car shifted slightly under his weight, obviously used to his tall frame squeezing into it.

"Shit, it's colder in here than outside Buile." You didn't know why you felt so comfortable to say his name, but you did. It slipped from your mouth with ease as if you were with a long time friend, which made you more puzzled about it. His body tensed again at you uttering his name, he looked as if he was trying to quietly keep his composure.

"No one has called me that in a long time, that's why it catches me off guard. Especially to hear a very familiar voice say it, one that i've missed dearly." The look in his eyes is now desperation. you know he feels the same electricity between you two as you do, his body is practically magnetized towards yours. But it's explainable for him, apparently he knows you.

You don't say anything so he forces his gaze to starting the truck. It sputters for a few seconds when he initially turns the key. Another sputtering sound and then it starts up. You feel him sneaking glances at you out of the corner of your eye but you're too busy focusing on exactly which roads he turns down to acknowledge it. Better safe than sorry you guess. Doesn't help much now, he's got a grip on your mind and you can't figure out why. You're too intrigued to run away now.

He pulls onto a side gravel road, gets out to open a gate, and jimmies the truck door closed as best he could. He pulls into a grass lot in front of a small yellow cottage. It's cute, you think, but will someone hear your screams this far into the wilderness. Have to make a brisk run for it if things go left.

He opens your door and places a hand out for you to grab and help you out. You take it and feel an electric jolt run through you veins. You can't tell what exactly the feeling is, but his touch causes your entire body to pulse below him. You know he feels it too by the way his eyes dart to your hand, willing himself to keep composure.

You let go once you step down and immediately the sensation ceases. Your brow furrows as you walk behind him, 'what the fuck was that?' you thought. He leads you in and uses his hand to point you toward his small and quaint living room. There's a small arm rest level table in between two vintage looking recliner chairs. He pours two glasses of whiskey and places them on the table as you sit down in one of the chairs. A lot more comfortable than it looks. He peels his jean jacket off, tossing it on the floor below. In less layers you can see just how large and toned his arms appear under his western button down. Not to mention (but let's mention it anyway) how broad and wide set his chest is. Fuck.

"Let's start from the beginning hmm?" And with saying that he takes his glass, you take yours, and he makes them clink ceremoniously. His face is riddled with anticipation and jovial ness.

He takes a big swig, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans closer to you in his chair, "It all started in 1846."

Chapter Text

"Wait wait wait" you spoke so soft as if you weren't even trying to interrupt him, just trying to make your mind wrap around what he just said. "1846?"

He nodded once and stroked his low hanging beard, "Precisely." He flashed you another grin and continued "You will want to hear me out before you interrupt again Luna. It's gonna all sound unbelievable at first, but trust me."

You didn't trust him. Still, whether he was on to something or completely out of his fucking mind he looked like one that was good for story telling. After all, he looked like a page right out of a mythology book. "Okay" you complied.

He poured himself another shot and leaned back in his chair as if he needed to collect the information all nice and neat in his mind before he started again. "I'll be right back" he said standing up and walking down a corridor behind your chairs. You wanted to explore the house, see if you could find clues about him from his stuff. The house didn't look familiar, you thought if it had been a drunk sex thing you might recognize something, but nothing looked like you had seen it before. The kitchen was just behind you, small and filled with mostly just a long black fridge and small black microwave on the kitchen counter. A few mason jars and plates in a dish rack. The cottage had an old person feel, all the stuff looked like stuff that would belong to someone much, much older than the man looked.

Maybe this was his mom or dads house, you thought. But there was definitely no one else there, that you could tell. The man looked no older than maybe late 30s early 40s and that seemed to really be stretching it. But yet, he really just said 1846...

You weren't a person that really believed in magic or spirits and witches, mortal beings or anything like that. You'd never seen evidence of it so what was there to really believe. There were a few times your parents sat you down and tried to explain that sometimes things can exist that are other worldly. You were young, maybe 15 or 16, they sat you down to talk about stuff that can be unexplainable, 'magical' even. At the time you thought they were pranking you but they proved to really mean what they wanted to say. After the conversation you brushed it off as your parents just being weird, not thinking much of it ever again.

You heard approaching footsteps as he walked back down the corridor to where you sat. He had taken off his top shirt now, only in a white tank and suspenders that were barely on his shoulders. There it was again. That attraction that made you want to jump him right then and there. It drove you crazy that your mind was telling you to dry hump this man that you literally met an hour ago. And from the prominent hard on in his pants, which had actually been there since you got in the truck, you could tell he was more than drawn to you too.

He sat on the couch opposite of you now, it didn't take much but he leaned over until he was only inches away from you. What is personal space? The heat between you started to rise again, a deep force that made you want to be even closer than you already were. You wanted to touch his arm again, see if you were actually dreaming that sensation you felt after your skin brushing earlier. You had to restrain yourself not to reach over and stroke his flesh.

"It was 1846. I was a bootlegger, sold pretty much whatever I could and whenever I could. When I met you it was in a pub" he looked off fondly for a second, almost like he was being catapulted back to the exact moment. "You were sitting with your friends and a man. He was your husband I believe. I watched you that whole night, couldn't take my eyes off of you. I-It was unreal, I had just never seen someone so beautiful before. Your husband noticed, didn't like the staring too much. I was at a booth alone, minding my goddamn business when he walked over and tried to stir shit up with me. Claimed I was undressing you with my eyes and well, I was, but that's not his business either way."

You actually giggled, not completely sure why but the words leaving his mouth sounded so real. You actually felt like you remembered what he was saying even though you had no clue what any of the scenery or people looked like.

"So he comes up to me, all bravado as if he's defendin' your honor and shit. And I get the need to feel so insecure, any man that snags you up is a lucky bastard who should feel like he needs to do any and everythin' not to lose you. But he was severely over-compensatin', you had told me later that it was because he knew you were about to leave him. It started with a punch, he was drunk and i gave him the benefit of the doubt, was about to let it go. But then he threw another and that's when I lost it. Beat the shit out of him, you were standing off to the side just watching. The only reason I stopped was because you grabbed my arm and looked at me with those eyes. Those eyes, mo ghrá, those eyes will be the end of me." You blushed under his gaze, sipping your whiskey some more.

Alcohol was needed to hear a story such as this. "You told me to let him go but not in a hysterical way that most wives would if someone was beating up their husband, your voice was calm. Like you almost didn't want to stop me but knew you should because of the stares. You and your friends and your mangled husband left. I didn't see you again for weeks after that. I went to that pub every night, hoping you would come in there without that wedding ring like i just knew you would."

He sighed and shifted in the seat and looked down at his scuffed up boots. "Even went to different ones to see if you had just changed locations because of me, hoped i could apologize. But you weren't there, it was like you disappeared. I forgot to mention the city we were in was Newry in Northern Ireland. It was rather big, but not too big that you could disappear and no one would hear about it. I tried to move on and go back to my conniving tendencies, being a thief was what i did best."

He seemed ashamed to tell me these parts of the story, like as if you were admitting something dumb you did as a teenager. "Then came the day I did finally see you again. October 23, 1846. My heart dropped to my stomach when I realized it was actually you. You had bruises all over your face, your neck, your knuckles were swollen. I didn't know what to do. You weren't alone though, your parents were right in front of you. They were talking with a doctor, it was just on the outskirts of the city. A small doctors office that you go to when you don't want the town to know you knocked up a 10 year old or your husband was beating you. That sort of scummy disgusting shit." His mouth curled slightly into a snarl, I could tell the memories felt too real for him.

It was like he could see them playing out in front of him as he told them to me. "I was selling some strong medicine under the table to him, he stopped to go greet your family. You all walked inside and I followed close behind. Once you were alone, your parents somewhere in the doctors office discussing bills, i slowly approached you. You looked up at me, your eyes looked so sad and afraid, not of me, just in general. I started by introducing myself, apologizing for what I had done to your husband and you laughed. You laughed hard and wildly. When you noticed my confusion you simply uttered 'you saved my life' low and under your breath. Now i was more confused than ever, but your parents came back and immediately ushered you away from me. I didn't so much as even get your name."

He stopped to pour himself another drink, clearly realizing he still wasn't buzzed enough to keep talking. "So i followed you. Your house was huge, i slowly began to realize your family was apparently Ireland royalty of some sort."

You looked up at him, eyes staring tentatively into his own, "Ireland royalty?" There was a slight scoff in your tone.

He topped off your drink some more and chuckled, "Well at least you're listening. When night fell I snuck to your window and you surprisingly let me in. It was like you trusted me and you didn't even know much more than my name yet. I asked what had happened, i noticed you no longer wore a wedding ring and there was no sign of your husband around. You told me about how he, his name was William, he used to beat you severely. He kept you away from your family, only allowed you to hang around his friends. You trusted me with all this information and I was grateful. I wanted to kill your husband, and i did, but we'll get to that later. You explained that watching me beat him so roughly ignited some fire in you to finally do the same. Finally make him pay for his actions. You put up the best fight you could, you said, almost killing him, but he overpowered you. You ran away to your families house and hadn't heard from him since. 'That was three days ago' you explained."

He stood up trying to regain feeling in his feet. Had you two been sitting there so long that his legs were falling asleep. You looked over at the clock on the wall, almost three hours had passed since you arrived with him at around 12 am. "Do you want some coffee?" his voice was louder, like an brief intermission during a play. So we're really just gonna pause on this story like that?

"I could actually use some." It was a good idea, especially if you were going to have to keep listening to a story about a life you apparently lived but are not currently living. "I have so many questions" you finally uttered after following him into the small kitchen.

A chuckle released from deep in his throat, "You'll understand it all once I finish. But tell me, does anything sound familiar? Anythin' Luna?"

You looked up at his hopeful eyes, meeting them with wistful ones. "No" it pained you to say it but you didn't have a heart to lie to him. The reaction you got was still a hopeful smile and his arms tensed as he turned back to the coffee pot,

"You will."

Chapter Text

Buile leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms out stretched on either side of him. The longing in your core was growing more intense as he looked down at you. He was studying you. Picking up his mug and sipping his coffee making sure to savor it slowly. You grabbed yours, secretly hoping he didn't poison it, and sipped it quietly.

You wanted to touch him, feel the warmth of his skin under your finger tips. While biting your lip you reached a small hand toward him and pressed a finger into his muscular forearm. He watched you the whole time, not moving an inch. It felt like a jolt of warmth ran through you when your skin was connected. "Do you feel that too..or am i crazy?"

He laughed at you, "I feel it mo ghrá. All it takes is for you to look at me, i feel it." He unfolded his arms and stepped towards you, clearly wanting to do much more but instead he only slid his thumb along your jaw. You couldn't explain it but it felt as though each time you touched him something ignited inside you. There was a sense of familiarity at his grasp, a feeling of remembering the sensation of his hands on you. This feeling was the only reason you were insistent on hearing him out, there had to be an explanation on how he seemed so familiar when he was a stranger to you.

His eyes were exploring your face, trying to notice every feature you had. "You still look just like you did so long ago. Curls still as wild as ever. And your voice sounds the exact same, it's driving me crazy." His thumb swiped over your lips, another wave of electricity ran through your veins. The knot in your stomach was growing each time he did practically anything, but this, this was driving your lust for him through the roof.

Your hand rested on top of his which was now along the side of your face and crook of your neck. "Tell me the rest Buile. I need to know the rest." You still weren't sure if you trusted him, you didn't want to question any of the information until you knew all of it. Or at least what he was willing to tell you.

He sighed while still viewing your face, you pulled your hand off of his and he released his grasp on your cheek. The jolt was gone immediately making you wish he would've just left it there. The warmth between you was still very existent, you were so close to him you only needed to reach a finger out to touch him. Your mind wouldn't allow you to give him space, craving the feeling of interconnection that existed between you two the closer you were.

You pulled yourself up onto the kitchen counter and scooted a bit closer to him, your knee touching his elbow. He looked down at the skin contact and knew you couldn't resist touching him in some sort of way. He was more than okay with it, you began to understand the connection between you two was felt by both of you. His maybe even stronger. His eyes glistened like ambers almost every time you were close.

"I stayed with you that night, you forced me to. You said you felt safe around me. We talked the whole night about practically everything. How you got me to talk about myself? No fucking clue" He gave a nostalgic smile in your direction and continued, "You knew everything about me and I knew everything about you after that night. I guess I just trusted you, you felt like home. I hadn't had that in centuries. We were inseparable ever since then. Your uhh.. your parents didn't like me at first, i mean to their surprise a stranger was in their daughters bed when they came to check on you that next morning. I wasn't sleep, I laid on top of the covers watching you when they opened the door and saw me. You woke up and explained to them how you knew me." He set his coffee mug down now and went back to stroking his red beard. The ring on his pinky finger caught your attention, it looked familiar.

"You fabricated a little, making me seem more likable than necessary. But the only words they truly needed were you telling them how I beat the shit out of William. I vowed to them that I would protect you, watch over you. They were grateful, but they were skeptical. They didn't want their daughter rushing into a relationship with another man so soon, especially one with someone who looked as sketchy as I. And more importantly, you had just faced such a horrible trauma, they felt you were probably bad at picking men, but i'll digress for now" He chuckled under his breath, like he was remembering another aspect of the conversation.

"They had a right to be hesitant, I'll always give them that. Eventually you confessed to me that William knew where your family lived some days after that night. You told me you knew he would come for revenge. When it all went down you had busted his eye socket, you were pretty sure you broke a rib, and you stabbed him with a fork. 'I snapped, just couldn't handle it anymore' you had said. I was the last person you needed to explain it too, I myself wanted to snap his neck in two. You told me you wanted me to stay close, there was a small outhouse outside your families manor. You snuck me into it, stayed with me most of the time and only left at night so your parents weren't suspicious. About three days later, in the middle of the night, he showed up in a somewhat rage. I heard him clamoring toward your house, cocking his gun threateningly. I snuck up behind him just before he reached the front door and snapped his neck."

He stopped and rubbed his hands together in front of him. This was becoming a touchy subject for him, that was obvious. "It wasn't the first time I had killed a man, wasn't the last either. I dragged him into the woods and buried him. Buried the gun too. Never told you about it, just led you to believe he ran off in a fright of what your parents' status could do to him. I think deep down you always knew."

You reached over to put a gentle hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. He leaned into the warmth of your hand, "You did the right thing Buile." The words came out of your mouth as if someone else was saying them. You felt as if someone was speaking through you, not like you were speaking directly. "You were always good to me Buile, always."

He turned to you in astonishment, auburn eyes wild and nearly bulging out of his skull. "Do you remember me now? Do you?"

Your head fell into your hands, you felt a strong migraine and the pain began to pulsate right behind your eyes. You closed them tightly, screaming in agony as he clutched you tightly by the shoulders. "What is happening!" Your voice was distorted, it sounded like it was going through a warp machine. When you finally opened your eyes again there was only bright light, blinding light.

When it subsided you were no longer in the cottage, instead a completely different place. You looked around, up and down, all you saw was a bedroom you had never been in before. For a moment you thought he definitely put something in your coffee. Then you began searching the room for clues of where you were. The room was old looking, a bed with all white linens, a light pink recliner in the corner of the room. You opened the closet and saw nothing but old timey dresses, all of them looked to be in your size exactly. What? You ran to the vanity to see what else you could find. There was a small photograph, crisp edges as if it had been looked at and handled more than a million times. It was a vintage photo of you and that man, Buile.

You looked at it incredulously, not believing your own eyes. It was definitely you. Your hair was pinned up, fancy vintage dress, and he was standing behind you. His hand was on your shoulder, both of you were smiling wildly. Only his hair was different, longer and not in the shape of a mohawk, instead gelled back with a side part. Okay there has to be an explanation for this, there's no way this is really happening. You walked out of the room, viewing the large house like you'd never been in it before. Because you hadn't. Or at least, so you thought.

You stopped when you reached the stairs, there he was. Sitting on a chair, his back to you, talking to your Dad? Was that really your Dad?
You slowly crept down trying to see what all you could scope out. Your Mom was behind your Dad, all of them sipping lemonade casually.

"Yeah she's always taking her sweet time to get ready," your Dad spoke and you nearly collapsed to the floor. That was his voice. Your Mom let out a giggle and slapped his head. Okay what is going on?

Buile looked over at your parents and smiled, it was so dear and sweet you forgot you were actually supposed to be freaking out.

"H-Hello" your voice was meek. You were scared but the people in front of you were people you knew. Even the mysterious man.

"There she is!" Your dad clapped as you joined them in the living room. Your Mom pulled you in for a hug and whispered something in your ear. 'Your father likes Sweeney now' she said. Sweeney? Why was she calling him Sweeney?

Your eyes were wide with bewilderment, everything was so different and familiar all at the same time. You thought you would faint in all the confusion. Sweeney pulled you into his embrace, that same jolt of electricity ran through your veins when he did so. You hugged him back and it almost made you forget about being lost.

"Are you ready mo ghrá?" You looked up at him and tried to mask the confusion you had in a pathetic smile and nod. He escorted you out of the house as your parents watched you get into their car and drive off.

You looked over at him, eyes wild. The car you were in definitely looked to be manufactured in 1846, the house you just left looked nothing like the house you remembered growing up in. "What is going on?" you finally asked him.

He pulled the car over onto the side of the road and looked over at you. "What do you mean? We're going to the theater and dinner. Do you no longer want to go?" His expression was one of concern, he looked at you like you said you were in pain.

"I...I don't know what's going on..five minutes ago I was in your cottage, you looked completely different, and it was 2017..." You looked down at the dash of the car. He was still looking at you, his expression still concern. "Are you and my parents playing a trick on me? How could i possibly be in another century? This can't be real"

He leaned back in the driver seat and pulled rolling paper out of his breast pocket. He took some tobacco out next and began rolling a tight cigarette. You were confused at his calmness, especially since your face was riddled with bewilderment. "I see" was all he said. I see?

"What is gong on!" your voice louder.

He looked back at you and took the cigarette out of his mouth, "I'm not entirely sure. Something must happen to you soon and I am forced to send you away...it's possible William's friends figure out what happened..or one of the people i've pissed off come to get revenge and i worry they will hurt you. I can't say for sure what happens, only because it hasn't happened yet. But if you come back it must be because I've found you, like you said, and I've started explaining it to you. I believe being a sorceress forced you to seek answers yourself, hm?" He flicked his ashes over the side of the car.

"Okay back up back up...sorceress? I'm a witch?" You began laughing now, somewhat uncontrollably. You made eye contact with him and he only returned it with a wide smile.

"You don't know? I mustn't have gotten to that part yet," he scratched the side of his head, smiled to himself. "Luna, do you know or remember that i'm a Leprechaun? Did I get that far?" He looked at you in inquisition, a bead of sweat falling down his side burn.

"A LEPRECHAUN?" Now you were laughing harder, even clutching your abdomen from the oblique pain. He was no longer smiling, he was in fact a little pissed now.

"Mo ghrá..keep an open mind, you just traveled back two centuries to the exact location I explained to you. If you don't believe me, try something. I've seen you create things out of thin air, levitate objects, change the weather. Seen it with my own eyes. Try something, you'll see for yourself." He raised his eyebrows and bit his bottom lip. His hand was on your shoulder, the warmth steeping through again.

"This is fucking insane." But yet you decided to try. You reached your hand out toward the car's steering wheel and attempted to turn it without touching it. Sweeney put his hands up in the air and moved his feet away from the pedals, knowing you were going to attempt to drive telekinetically. You don't know how you did it or what exactly you did to do it, but it happened. The car began to lurch forward and veer back on the road once you tilted your hand. You immediately stopped, very surprised at what just happened and Sweeney grabbed the wheel to stop the car from swerving.

He looked over at you, "What did i fuckin' tell ya!" He was joyous, almost like he was forgetting the crisis you were going through. "Sorry," he uttered when he noticed the disbelief on your face, "I just get a little excited when I see you do stuff of that nature."

"It's okay Buile, i'm just....i'm a witch? A witch? Like Hocus Pocus type shit, i'm really a witch? How could I have never known something that major? All 24 years of life and I've never known. You're a leprechaun, never thought I would ever say those words out loud..about anyone. Plus, in the course of hours my life has changed completely. I-In the future, I work at a Starbucks? You probably don't know what that is.." He shook his head no and smiled tenderly. "My parents pay half my rent and I am a regular dog owner who loves blue bell ice cream. Then I leave a bar I go to every week fatefully on Fridays and run into you. Only you have a fucking mohawk, which I should say suits you very well, and start telling me how you met me in 1846 and you killed my piece of shit husband that apparently was beating the shit out of me."

He uttered "That cunt William" under his breath and rolled his eyes. "What else have I told you? So far?"

"That's about it. We were in the kitchen, I remember getting the worst migraine i've ever gotten and then next thing I know, i'm in that house and walk downstairs to meet you and my parents." You sighed and rubbed your temples. Sweeney put a hand on your arm and rubbed over the skin that was exposed. His touch was helpful in relaxing you, making your mind focus more on the warmth of his delicate and long fingers. He squeezed gently so that you would return his eye contact. "I have so many questions Buile" your voice was small, but he understood every word.

"I'll give you all I know Luna, ask away," and he turned the car engine off.

Chapter Text

You shifted in the passenger seat and faced Sweeney who was now loosening the first buttons on his shirt. Even the hair on his chest was a bright red as a bead of sweat fell down his chest.

"How long have we- I mean we're clearly together?" You gestured with your hand in between you two and winced a little at how awkward you were being but he didn't seem to notice, obviously used to your nature by now. Apparently people don't change much, even 2 centuries later.

"After the uh- the William shit, which I've apparently told ya now, you were hesitant. You knew how i felt about ya, and I made it obvious, laid it out after a few days. 's funny cause you gave me this look when I told you, I'll never forget that look. I can't describe it, it was just..just." He trailed off and smiled to himself. His beard flinched as he opened his mouth to speak again, closed it for a moment, then began again. "I knew I loved you after that first night. You told me everything, every detail. I think you were trying to scare me away but just your luck, that shit didn't work." He laughed and you couldn't help but smile, that sounded like you. Make sure a guy was serious about liking you before you allowed yourself to fully like them back.

"You let me stay in that outhouse and after a couple weeks you stayed with me all night. That's when you told me how you felt. That was the first time I kissed you and you kissed me back." He laughed again, "I was surprised you let me is all. But after that night, we were inseparable, have been ever since. That was about 10 months ago, it's October." He noticed your gaze was everywhere but his face. "What's wrong Luna?"

You looked over at him, eyes filled with a strange mix of lust and wistfulness. "I just wish I could remember. All those conversations, all those moments of us together and i can't remember. It's like we're strangers again." You were upset at the fact that this man in front of you had told you everything about himself, every detail, and you couldn't remember. You had 10 months with him, assuming most of that time was filled with love, and you couldn't recall one single moment.

"We have our whole lives to be together still, mo ghrá. If you still want me?" He was trying to be cute now. Like as if feelings would just change after centuries, not even plausible. "I know right now you barely know me but, we can start again?"

You grabbed the hand he had on your arm and wrapped both of yours around it. A tender smile graced your face that he returned with his own. "Of course Buile." The tingling in your body was prominent now, holding his hand was baby steps at the moment but all the same, it had your heart pounding. "So my next question, if you're a leprechaun, does that mean you can-" and without hesitation he made a coin appear from his fingertips. You looked in astonishment as he pulled one from your neck, behind your head, and from his mouth. "Okay so yeah, you definitely can. So are you rich?"

He tilted his head back and forth slowly and shrugged his lips, "If you're asking if money is a problem, no it's not. But I don't flash it around like I used to, learned that lesson. Bootlegging is a decent cover. Nobody expects a shady under the table salesman to actually be wealthy beyond his means. It's the only profession that allows me anonymity I guess. Ever since me and you though I haven't been doing it as much. Haven't needed to..distract myself I suppose."

You nodded, it made sense. The normal citizen in the 1840s wouldn't expect a shady salesman to be a leprechaun. I mean it was Ireland but..come on, that's not just common. Well, so you thought. "Makes sense, but no one would be worried about you being rich unless you..have enemies?"

He stroked his beard and laughed, so rich a laugh you wanted to settle into it and stay there for a while. "I'm in debt to some people, but it's not a money debt, so yes and no. It does matter to some extent. It's better if it's not readily known to some folks." His thumb ran across your chin again, the rest of his fingers wrapped around your neck. Your skin was scorching under his gaze, and from the sun blaring down on you two. It was dangerously hot outside, and with the metal form the car and electricity between you and Sweeney, that just made it all the more hot.

"So..am I a doppelgänger? Am I really the same girl you fell for in this century or have I reincarnated? But with the same physical appearance? I don't understand the time jump? I mean, you're an immortal leprechaun, so you never die correct?"

He nodded, "Correct. But to be honest, I think it may be some weird form of a doppelgänger? I mean, you're a witch just like she was..your parents are the same yes? The only difference is you were born in 1993? Not 1821?"

You stopped for a second and thought about your actual birthday like as if you couldn't remember it. Even though you were sure it was 93', your family had a scrapbook with photos from the exact 1 year birthday party they gave you. You thought back to all the memories of your younger life and they seemed to be in normal chronological order. All the school memories, 1st grade on to 12th grade. All 4 years of college and working at a coffee shop while looking for a career. All of it seemed what it had always been.

So, now what? "I'm pretty sure I was born in 93'. I guess what you say is probably true. A doppelgänger. So now I need to go back to my century, or else I will never know why our time together was so brief. I need the rest of the answers and the only one who'll know is you...but in about 200 years." He looked at you like he was sad you were leaving but knew you had to. "Wait, so where's the other me? Right now?"

He looked back at the house you two had just left from. You were only about a couple miles away and with how big it was, it was easily still noticeable. "She'll probably be back in that bedroom when you leave. Pretty sure there's probably something about you two not being in the same decade and century at one time. Shit. I really have no fucking clue how any of this works. I'm sorry, I know i'm supposed to be helping and have ""the answers"" but I've only learned shit about being a leprechaun by well...being a leprechaun. That's it. Maybe future me(?) knows what exactly to tell you. At least that's what we should hope for."

You smiled at him, he was flustered for you. He clearly wanted to tell you everything you needed to know but it was beyond his reach. In 1847, he only knew what had happened up until that point. But 2017 him might know what you needed to find out. "Don't be upset Buile, you've still helped me, I didn't know I was a witch until now so you've already been very informative hm? Well, I guess it's time. How do I get back Buile?"

He sighed and took his hand from your shoulder. He turned back to face you and his eyes were darker now, more intense than ever. "Close your eyes. Breath in and out. Imagine being back where you want to be. There's no magic saying just picture yourself where you want to be and when."

You did as he said, hands crossed in your lap. For a few seconds it didn't feel like anything was happening. No migraine like before, no weird sound, no movement. You heard Buile in your ear again but he was frantic now and his hands were back on your shoulders. "Luna! Luna are you okay?!"

When you opened your eyes you were sitting on the kitchen counter again, Sweeney was in front of you, towering over you. You were back.

"Shit." Your voice was low and you lifted your hands in disbelief, looking at yourself to make sure you were all there. You looked up at Sweeney whose face was slowly returning to normal but was still filled with worry. You grabbed his face in your hands and laughed, which only confused him. The pulse of your heart quickened so fast you felt it in your neck as you swallowed deep and leaned in to his lips. There was no argument from him, he fully received your kiss and moments in wrapped his arms around your neck. There were definitely sparks, more like explosions that seemed to be erupting in your stomach. Are those butterflies or fucking birds?

"Shit," he said in a low groan. "What happened?" He tried to hide the smile forming on his lips but reluctantly couldn't.

"I? I went back in time? I went back to 1847 and had a conversation with you." You laughed cause the words out of your mouth sounded just as ridiculous as they were. Sweeney laughed too and released his loose grip around your neck.

"Time traveled? It's only been 3 minutes since you started grabbing your head and screaming." His brow furrowed as he smiled at you, "Well, what did i say?"

Chapter Text

Buile was in the bathroom taking a long shower which he had politely said you could join if you wanted too. You declined, only because this situation was still very weird and vastly unsettled yet. Not to be a drag, but there was still information to know and you still weren't quite sure about Sweeney's character in general. That being said, you were definitely aware it wouldn't take much for you to completely fall down the rabbit hole.

You kissed him yes, and that to him could be? Well, what it could be. Your thoughts drabbled on about your confusing place with the man who was now currently in the frilly bathroom who, was seemingly happy with the way things were playing out for you two. A few more hours had passed since you time traveled (still weird to even say as a thought?) back to the small cottage he had first brought you to. In that time Sweeney put a hold on the story retelling; he made you dinner and poured a nice glass of sweet tea in the finest mason jar he (or his grandma?) owned. He wasn't too bad of a cook either, he surprised you when he made your favorite dish and for a second you forgot that was apparently intel he already knew about you.

"Didn't peg you as a guy who likes chicken and spinach alfredo pasta? Not to mention the ability to make it like an actual chef," the buzz of the alcohol from the previous wee hours of the morning was just beginning to wear off and your head was a little fuzzy. That meant you said a little more than you should if the opportunity presented itself.

"Once I found out it was your favorite dish, I made it like it was my job mo ghrá. I grew to love it after having it several times a month hm?" A drop of tea fell to his beard when he let out a robust laugh that filled the tiny living room you two were adjourned to. He patted the side of the couch to the left of him and motioned for you to sit. After going on almost three ish days with him, which were nonstop since he didn't believe in sleep and you were a noted insomniac yourself, you were growing somewhat accustomed to some of his mannerisms.

He liked you close, close enough that he could barely stretch an arm out to touch you. He didn't want to creep you out or make you uncomfortable so every time he did something that might be 'testing the waters' like putting a hand to your thigh or biting his lip while you spoke, he would also ease right back off to see if it was too much. You never gave any indication that you didn't like it or him, in fact, you flirted back because you did like him. A lot. He knew that and once he was finally sure of it there was no hesitation or slight touches.

It was like falling in love all over again for him. He tried his best to hide it and keep his feelings contained but once you spoke and laughed and joked just like her all those years ago, he couldn't help himself.

He was a gentleman, even with his crass language and his rugged demeanor. He wanted to make sure you were always comfortable and had whatever you might need since you had been there for a while. Your mind didn't even process going to work since that wasn't an important factor to what you had just learned about yourself. What witch works at a coffee shop? (Actually that would make quite a quirky indie film) Buile had offered to take you back to your place a few times even though he practically begged you to stay all at the same time. "It's just been so long since I've seen you, thought I never would again. I guess i'm being somewhat selfish trying to keep you all to myself like this. But if you have to go I understand Luna, i'll take you wherever you need to go."

All you said was "Absolutely not leaving before you tell me why the last time you saw me I was running! That's too good of a cliffhanger."

Once you two had finished eating he took the plates and set them in the sink then topped off your tea. "You're quite the gentleman Buile," you teased. He smiled endearingly at you and just from his eyes you could tell he was this way because he loved you still. It was written all over his face with the way his eyes lit up when they were focused on you.

"Don't get too accustomed mo ghrá, i'm only trying to butter you up, not for any ulterior motive, of course.." he raised his eyebrows and lifted his hands up in defense before you could even furrow your brow and question his banter.

After some more witty back and forth and increasing sexual tension between you two, he decided he needed to take a much needed shower. You wanted to join, hell when he invited you the pulse between your legs ached with longing while your mind almost propelled to the bathroom. He sensed that exact emotion while you internally processed it and smiled when your voice hitched while saying "I-I probably shouldn't." He didn't say anything else, only continued that same goofy smile and nodded.

Now that he was out of the shower, a towel draped very lazily around his lower abdomen, he stepped out of the bathroom and slowly walked to the room across the hall. He made sure to catch your eye and give a devious lopsided grin and in the few seconds before he disappeared into the room you could see just what he looked like halfway naked. At least the upper half.

Then something just burned inside of you, something you hadn't felt in a long time if not maybe ever. There was only one guy that produced a tremendous lower yearning from you and even then it was nothing compared to what you were feeling for Sweeney. You stood up, head straight, and walked to the room he had just entered. You weren't really sure if it was a good idea, why you were really committing to it, but something in your mind at that moment just said 'fuck it'. You thought to yourself, 'was all it took for me to have sex with this man was to see him half naked?'

'No, of course not!' your inner voice yelled. 'Cooking you dinner definitely helped though. And not to mention, if he had never found you, you might have never known you were an exact doppelgänger for a witch with a beautiful love story and you were in fact also a witch like her.' The voice in your head silenced when you reached the final steps to the door of his room. It wasn't too late to turn back until your heard his voice. It was low and deep when he spoke.

"Are you coming in or not?" he asked. You were frozen outside the door, how did he see you? "I can see you in the mirror, come in Luna, please."

You willed your feet to move and walked into the doorway of the room. It was a pretty big room which was unexpected considering the house was rather small. There was only a big bed in the far corner of the room, a old oak looking dresser and a long rectangular mirror on the closet door. The accents on the pieces in the house seemed like vintage custom made looking pieces with small but amazing details. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his wild hair was wet and pushed to the back of his head. While wet it was no longer the bright gold ginger it normally is, it was a dark red that seemed to match the shift in his demeanor.

You thought you should say something or at least breathe normally instead of holding your breath. He noticed you were nervous, his eyes were scanning your face to gage your next move, which in turn only made you more nervous. You made a motion to step toward him but hesitated and stopped before even moving a step. He wanted to devour you, take you right then and there, throw you on the bed, and do whatever it took to make you scream his name.
But, alas, he was just as nervous as you and terrified you might not want that so soon.

The room was filled to the brim with thoughts, overthinking, and no action.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was actually only a minute or two, you spoke to break the tension a little. "I- uh- I had so much more nerve when I first stood up." Both of you laughed at the confession and it seemed to be just enough to loosen the awkwardness. He focused on your face and that smile graced his lips again. It was dark outside, the big window he had by his bed had the white curtains pulled back and all you could see were stars. Rare in the city, but there they were. Randomly you thought about how you had only met this man three days ago but were more comfortable around him than most of your friends. And it still surprised you that you trusted him enough to be at his cottage so long after literally just meeting.

You walked over to Buile and he straightened up so that he could pull you right in front of his knees. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a tight embrace. Your hands were on his back, skin contact you had been longing for. He was still warm from the shower and his skin under your fingertips was soft. You stroked his head lightly, pushing his wet strands down into the perfect slicked
mohawk.

You wanted him. In fact the simple feeling of wanting him was no justice to your real feelings for him. Touching him was already producing that familiar tingly feeling but the fact that his face was inches from exactly where you wanted him to be and he was already practically naked. All of it was far, far too much for your inner voice who was practically begging you to kiss him again.

"Buile?"

He loosened his grip around your waist and backed away just enough to look up at your face. "Luna?"

"I want to know the rest, I want you...and I'm so close to breaking but, before I do...I need to know the rest."

His face was still for a second before nodding and letting you go completely. "Uh shit, well I guess I better continue."

Chapter Text

"So it was after about a year of us being together when shit just went left. Not between us, in fact, we were pretty inseparable. Which your parents hated." Buile chuckled at the memory. "There came a time when William's friends' felt they needed to 'avenge' their lost companion."

"Wait!" you nearly choked on your sip of tea. "A whole year afterward they decided to come and exact revenge for a woman beater...a WOMAN BEATER!"

Sweeney furrowed his brow and eyed you, "Men can be truly despicable. That's really the only explanation of that." You both nodded in agreement and he continued further. "At any rate, they were actually fucking stupid enough to think I would let somethin happen to you. When they came it was late afternoon, almost night, and there was a figure outside the window. I think we were in the living room doing something uh, when there was a thud on the glass. They were trying to break the window. I had you go upstairs to your parents room and wait while I figured out what was going on. Turns out.....it was three foul men and one stepped forward claiming they knew it was I who killed William and got rid of his body. How they knew this I never found out but they knew. Did William tell them as a ghost?"

You snorted in laughter and were immediately embarrassed at the sound, a laugh people always poked fun at. Buile didn't however, he had no room when his own at times sounded like a squirt handle on windex cleaner. He scratched at his beard on his chin and made a 'Yes, I'm a riot, I know' face before scooting closer to you on the bed. He was dressed now, you would've loved to stay and watch but knew it would be better to give him privacy. Interestingly enough his clothing of choice when he was just lounging in the house was just pajama pants and a white tank. It was weird seeing him in it at first considering he seemed like the type of man to lounge in silk pajamas or on the other end of the spectrum, full out boxers. There was something about his comfortability that made you want to snuggle him? That's not weird.

"These men weren't small or scrawny, they were the opposite. I actually feared for my life for a second. I was worried that night I mean they actually brought a fucking pitch fork. I think deep down I had a feeling something might happen to you. I've fought lots of men, kings and soldiers, but they put up one hell of a fight i'll give them that. I will mention that instead of it being a fair fight, one on one, they all attacked me at once. The tallest one, also the ugliest, his eyes were crooked and his mouth looked like a hook. Not relevant but I just had to mention he was fucking hideous." He loved to get side tracked and that was mostly because he knew he had your full attention and wanted to keep you entertained.

"I'm pretty tall I mean," he gestured up and down himself to which you couldn't help but smirk," but the big one got a good right hook in my side and that made it harder to restrain them. The third one, the one who came to a duel with fucking penny loafers on, jabbed me in the eye, which I didn't take him for having that in him. I believe i gave a good blow to the one who spoke first which put him out on the grass and then it was just two on one. That was when you came outside to try and break it up. The little one actually tried to come at you, he lunged for you saying ""That's the cunt!"" and before he even made it two steps I grabbed his ass and snapped his neck. Gruesome, I know, but I saw the hate in that man's eyes and I wasn't about to let something happen to you."

He leaned over the bed and stopped for a second, we were getting to the real shit now. Even though, that, was some pretty real shit.

"The one who I knocked out earlier came to and got to his feet. All the while I was yelling for you to go back inside but it was too late. He drew a gun from his pants and aimed it at you." Sweeney stopped and looked away from your direction. You could tell he wasn't crying or anything, but you saw a large rise and fall in his body as he sighed.

"You started running away from the scene and he fired the gun while I tried to lunge in front of it before it was too late. But it was. He got you somewhere on your arm I believe but I'll never know because you never stopped running. By then they continued trying to attack me and the other tried to chase after you. I managed to kill the one attacking me, and with him out of the way, I tried to catch up to you and the third one. You had ran into the forest, somehow actually disappearing. He wasn't too far in front of me I could still see him but he managed to get out of my sight too."

Sweeney looked back in your direction and you thought you might have seen a tear in his eye. The fragility of himself he'd exposed to you was so real and soft. You grabbed his hand reflexively and gripped it hard. The motion was funny considering his hand dwarfed your own in comparison, but the small act brought butterflies to both you and Buile's insides. "I searched that forest for days, weeks, months. I never found you. I never found him either. I never stopped looking for you, I scrounged that whole town looking for anybody who may have even thought they saw you. Nothing."

"You were gone. I thought, hopeful, that maybe you had managed to teleport somewhere else, so that you were safe. But there would have been no way of me finding that out. And if you had, I know you would have returned to me. But you didn't. So.....That's how I knew you were dead. Your parents were devastated, of course. You were their only child, only daughter. After about two years of your disappearance they found me in town, i had bought a small hotel by then, they gave me a small fortune and told me they were going over seas to visit relatives in America. They wrote to me once, thanking me for trying to defend and save their daughter."

Sweeney gripped your hand once more before moving it to hold your wrist in his hand. "And that's how our story ended. I refused to leave for years. I just couldn't get over the fact that I had lost the only love of my life. And over something so frivolous. It was the 1960s when I made a trip to America to visit the graves of your parents. I felt I should pay my respect even if I was a few decades late. I eventually decided to stay here seeing as nothing was left for me back in Ireland."

"And now, here we are." He was over you now, body twisted to allow you to look up at him as he stroked your jaw. His thumb was rough, but against your skin it melted. He smiled at you but behind his eyes was still a tinge of sadness with a gleam in his eyes. Those bright amber irises were trained on your own, daring you to make the first move.

"That quick huh?" You laughed and continued,"By the way it was a beautiful sad story. I hated the ending. I have to say if only she had actually teleported herself and then come back, seemed like a smart idea. You think they ever found her remains?"

Sweeney smiled at you, hands smoothing over your hair, "Witches don't die like the rest of humanity. After so long, maybe a month, the body will start to deteriorate a lot faster and a lot better than others. She would have turned into black embers before long. I've lived a very long time, too much time, and for the first time since her, I think i've found that happiness again. I'm a man that's done terrible things but once she came into my life, I knew that wasn't apart of my life anymore. I know I'm coming on strong and you've only known me for three days. But you are so much like her, and the fact that you're a witch like she was? The fact that you have the same mannerisms as her? Even if you don't want me in that way, I will always be glad I had one more chance to talk to you."

Your eyes lit up at his words 'don't want me in that way'. "I know you want me because of her, but I'm still different than her in some ways and I don't want you to be disappointed that I'm not completely like her. I just don't want to tarnish the idea you still have of her, who she was."

He chuckled, a deep laugh in the base of his throat. "Mo ghrá," he shook his head a few times,"I loved her just as she was just like I will love you for who you are. From what I've seen these past few days, I can't see what's not to love about you. You, are beautiful."

Chapter Text

"So what now?"

Sweeney sighed, "I believe I should take you home. I mean you have a job right? Shit, did I get you fired?"

He pushed a piece of hair off of your face and held it for just a second before pulling his hand back to his side. The natural touch tendencies he already had with you made you feel more and more like you were actually a real couple. Except, you didn't even know his last name yet. Which is weird cause you knew his first before he even told you it.

"I was going to quit that place anyway, I finally got my degree so I think it's time for a real job." You let out a small chuckle and let your fingers play with the hole in his pajama pants around his knee. Every place his fingers touched you left your skin on fire, a tingle to the vessels just below the surface. He was purposely staring directly into your eyes, when you looked away and back you swore you could see his pupils grow at your glance. "What's your last name?"

He smiled at you, "Shuibhne. But, now we say Sweeney. Less conspicuous." His mouth was curled into a smile and he seemed intrigued that you had blurted such a random question. "This has been a nice three (?) four day weekend for you hm, mo ghrá? Getting kidnapped by a tall orange-haired thousand year old leprechaun and getting told you're a witch and he was supposed to marry you in 1847." His mouth curled again and those big white teeth looked devious. As if they would lead you right to evil. He wasn't evil, but the things he could make you do for him with just a smile, might be evil in itself.

"My head feels like mush after hearing all that," you let out a small laugh,"it feels as if now we are forced to figure out where to go from here. In every sense it seems..."

He furrowed his brow and laid back on the bed, giving you full view of his wide stretched abdomen and his arms outstretched on either side of him. The trail of freckles on his biceps caught your attention. "There's no pressure mo ghrá. Like I said before, I have gone without you for two centuries almost, just knowing another incarnation of you exists and that I've been in your presence, now, is a miracle to me. You have no idea how safe you make me feel then and now, just being around you. I would do anything for you, just as before. If you ever need anything, I would do it." He raised up off the bed and shifted his body towards you now. The difference in height was still comical even while you were both sitting.

"I want another chance to make you my wife. I know it will take time, I'm willing to wait, but those are my intentions. I was once a wild man, fucking every woman I could and not giving a damn about their feelings. Then I saw you that night at the pub. You are what made me realize that was no way to live. At least substantially." He smiled. "And I know you're not a carbon copy of the you I once met, but none of that shit matters...."

His eyes scanned your face looking for any reaction or any change of expression. You kept a straight face until he finished, not sure what your face should convey. Your thoughts were screaming 'Yes!! Yes!!' but your heart was saying wait. He was right, it definitely would take time considering he might know some of your quirks and personality traits, but you knew none of his. You only know what he has told you, what you saw when you went back to the 1840s, and what the past three days had presented to you. That wasn't enough. But time, time was not an issue. Not this time at least.

"Buile, from what I know about you so far and from what I've seen, I know you are a good person. At least when it comes to me." You smiled on that statement and his eyes lit up once again. "We have so much time together now that you've found me, God, i'm talking like a lifetime romantic drama movie. But really, I want to know more about you, about her, I want us to start new but with a brief history. I want you, and I figured that out probably a day into the story. Whether I believed it or not. And then when I went back in time and met you for real, it was just something about your energy. My intuition just told me you were right. Now, i'm no fortune teller but I can say, we finally have our second chance. Well for me first chance but still!"

"And as for now, that is up to you Buile." A gentle smirk and a wink from you was all it took for him to take his initiative and lean down to kiss you. He was slow at first, of course, testing the waters and feeling for your reaction. You responded to him by placing a hand to his jaw and felt the wave of warmth rush to your fingertips before spreading through your whole hand. Fuck.

He was growing more eager the longer his lips were against yours, the taste of whiskey and vanilla seeping through. You wanted to stop him, only because you hadn't showered yet and didn't want what was obviously about to be a first time intimately to be with you uncomfortable about that. It was a weird thing to be particular to but at the same time, who wouldn't want to be directly clean?

His hands were on your waist, tugging you onto his lap before you finally assuaged his needs and settled there. You let his lips travel to your neck, peppering the skin there with warm kisses. He was gentle, a lot more gentle than you expected. With his nose pressed against your collar bone he stopped and you felt him smile against your skin. His face was soft, even with the weathered appearance and harsh edges. "Why are you smiling?" you asked a little short.

"Because I have a feeling of where this is going. And it has been many years..."

Chapter Text

The room was darker now, no noise other than you two softly talking to each other. The bed was comfortable, you thought, and surprisingly sturdy. Buile was over you, his face seemed darker, almost more mischievous.

You two had been like this for a while, just staring at each other while saying little things. He lifted his hand and let his long fingers play along your shoulders until he got to your neck.

"This is probably the most unique circumstances where I've ended up having sex," you almost whispered.

"I believe maybe for me too, lass." He said above you. "Are you nervous?"

"A little," you slowly uttered. He leaned up enough to let you sit up beside him.

"What do you want me to do mo ghrá?" His voice was riddled with patience. Anything to make you more comfortable was his goal.

You looked over at you two in the mirror on his closet door. This man was one of the most beautiful creatures you'd ever laid eyes on. He was intriguingly tall, his arms and chest were so built you thought about asking his work out regimen or if he even had one, and his face, good God that handsome ass face. He was a rough type of gorgeous with that fiery ginger hair and beard to match, and he was practically begging to make love to you. Why even be nervous? He clearly wanted you just as much (if not more) as you wanted him. So fuck it.

Your demeanor shifted, and not without his notice. You softly shook your shoulders to loosen your whole body one time and looked over at him. Your hands went to his shoulders for balance as you placed yourself neatly in his lap, he moved his arms out of the way just for you to sit. You held his face in your hands, slowed one good time to admire the look of anticipation on his face before leaning in to kiss him.

He received it with eagerness, glad you were finally comfortable enough to do it again. This was the moment Sweeney had been quietly waiting for, you to let your inhibitions down and let him pleasure you. His beard tickled your chin as you eased more into him. His hands were everywhere against your body, like he couldn't settle on one spot for too long.

You lifted his tank up enough to palm his immaculately toned chest, abs that felt harder than stone under your fingers. Your core was on fire, not to mention the steady growing heat rising through your body as you touched him and he touched you. He stroked down your back, easily pushing your chest closer to his before releasing to raise your top up and above your head.

You followed suit, eager to see him shirtless again and feel his warm body against your own. He kissed your jaw, your neck, collarbone, shoulder, breast, everywhere he could as you watched him eagerly devour your skin with slow, tender kisses.

He went to your nipple, pushing it into his mouth and making an obscene pop as he released it. He trailed kisses in between until he got to the other side to repeat to the other one. He licked the area surrounding your nipple before you couldn't resist pulling his lips back up to yours.

Before long you felt your heart beat quicken, almost ringing in your ears. You couldn't focus on anything other than how good all of this felt, how right it was. A smile couldn't help but trickle on your lips, causing him to do the same as he pulled back to look at you. His eyes were brighter than they had ever been, almost like his irises were auburn flames. You stroked his cheek, leaning back in for more of him.

Wanting more, he leaned over to lay you down on the bed. He stood to his feet and pulled off his bottoms, then he hooked his fingers in yours but waited for your nod of approval. Now you were both nude, his body now on top of yours as they melted together. The warmth was loading through you from head to toe, something that demanded to be noticed. Tingling along each nerve through your body, he traveled down until he reached your hips.

He lifted your legs and spread them over his shoulders, his own knees on the floor next to the bed. You peered down at him through your lashes, already wet with anticipation.

"Your body severely betrays you, mo ghrá" he whispered, mouth blowing cool air so close to your core. He started off easy, sliding his fingers in between the slick of your center before spreading it apart to lick against your clit. He placed a flat tongue against it, then added pressure as he used his whole mouth to suck hard.

You couldn't help the gasp you let out, your body twitching each time he repeated this. He did so again, the heat from his mouth mixed with your wetness caused him to groan softly into you. Instinctively your hands were tangling through his mane, his eyes looking up to watch you in amazement. He reached his free hand up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing your nipple until you practically squealed aloud.

You were coming undone, and he was enjoying every second of it. He knew the harder he applied pressure to your sweet spot, the more your body shook and wraithed in pleasure. "Buile!" you yelled once he pulled your lower lips in between his and let go with another pop, and then abruptly moving away altogether.

So close to releasing, and he somehow knew. He came back up to lay over you, his arms on either side of your head as you grabbed his muscles, leaning up to catch his lips sooner than he could come down to meet yours.

You looked down at his throbbing length in a somewhat daze, worried that his size might be uncomfortable. It was thick and veiny, just like the rest of him. He looked already on the edge of bust as pre cum dripped from the head, his hands moving to line up your hips. At first he slowly eased himself in, an agonizing adjustment. You winced slightly and he noticed, stroking your cheek with worry. "You okay?"

You nodded quickly, even reinforcing by grabbing his hips to ease him in further. "I'm okay.." you reassured him. After a few more slow and torturous thrusts he couldn't help himself.

He came back down to whisper in your ear, just as he started to go faster. Whatever he was saying sounded like gibberish, a language that you had never heard. Even still, the pressure between your legs, his hands tangled through your hair, and the heat from his chest over your body, encompassing your figure. His lips so close to your ear as he breathlessly whispered sweet nothings (you only assumed).

Even through all of that, the only thing you could focus on was the stars forming in your eyes, the headboard slamming into his wall, and how hoarse your throat was already becoming from desperate moans and soundless screams of his name.

The pleasure was indescribable, Sweeney was hogging every sense in your body. You were his instrument in this moment. And he was already an expert in playing you, using you to make the sounds he needed to hear more than anything else.

You heard his voice turn into wordless groans, even a slight whimper that definitely surprised you. Both of you were dangerously crashing into an intense orgasm, a sweet and chaotic release. As you slowly drifted back down, after feeling like your body had floated to the ceiling, you felt him slack against you.

You smiled, more satisfied that he decided to stay inside you as he caught his breath. Your hands moved to play in his ginger locks, slightly damp from sweat. You pushed his shoulders, trying to flip him gently on his back, rolling with him since he was still inside you.

He opened his eyes and watched you now over him, eyes dark with lust. You had never seen a man more handsome, especially in this moment. You blushed under his seductive glare, easing up and off of his length.

You trailed kisses down his chest, all the way to his suddenly re-emerging erection. He was already getting painfully hard again as you grabbed him, small hand firmly gripping his base. You licked all the way up, tasting yours and his wetness around him. The groan he let out was low and deep from the base of his throat. He leaned back, freckled arms covering his eyes as you took him fully in your mouth.

Knowing there was no way for you to fully suck him you went as far as your gag reflex could handle, tightly stroking the rest with your hand. You did this repeatedly, ever so often licking and kissing the swollen red tip and just below it.

"Mo grhá, what are you doing to me.." he groaned in desperation, he had never felt so hopelessly indulged.

You had never truly enjoyed fellatio until you performed it on Sweeney. The sounds he was willing to make, the sweet shyness as he came more and more undone, the view of his broad freckled chest and the way he watched you in pure amazement and adoration. You felt yourself become more aroused just from doing it.

He sat up and reached at your waist, pulling you up and back on to his dick, just before he could cum again.
"I need to be in you again," he whispered once your body was parallel to his own, gathered on his thighs.

He guided you up and slowly back down, making you almost quiver. He pulled you by your waist again, up and down. Up and down. "Buile...please.." you begged, him catching your lips in a slow kiss.

This time, as if possible, you felt yourself come even harder than before. and definitely louder as you laid your head on his shoulder, barely able to do anything other than shake uncontrollably on top of him. You were already coming down but he kept going until he reached his orgasm too.

He hugged your body close to his, his chest enveloping your entire upper body. He smelled fresh, probably the soap he had just showered with, and the glisten of sweat covered you both. You listened to his heart beat, it was fast and erratic, his chest slowing as he gained control of his breathing. He was warm inside of you, you lamented the loss of feeling and warmth as he pulled out of you.

He got up to grab his towel from the bathroom, his tall frame returning through the doorway to wipe you off. After he cleaned himself up, he laid back down beside you, pulling your body with ease up the bed and over his own. You instinctively lay your head on his chest.

"I don't think sex has ever been that satisfying for me," you admitted. He chuckled above you, kissing your forehead reflexively.

"We're just getting started, mo ghrá."