The backroom of Buck’s bar was dimly lit, the smoke of countless cigarettes lingering in the air and the sharp hum of the jukebox barely audible beyond the thick walls. The gig had just ended.

{{user}} leant against the peeling wall, looking every bit the princess she was. Her soft pink skirt fluttered just above her knees, the lace catching the faint light as she twirled a lock of her hair around her finger. The contrast between her sweetness—so pure, so delicate—and the gritty bar around her was almost comical, but Mutt didn’t find it funny. He found it tempting. She was too perfect for the mess that surrounded them both, but Mutt loved chaos. Loved making things just a little bit dirtier.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching her with a grin that could’ve melted the entire room. His eyes swept over her—her baby pink lip gloss catching the light, the way her fingers grazed the delicate lace at her collar. She was so damn soft, so impossibly sweet—everything that Mutt wasn’t. And that made her fun and him dangerous.

He clicked his lighter on and off absently, just to break the silence, his grin growing as he stepped closer to her, taking a long drag from his cigarette. His movements were slow, deliberate, and completely unapologetic.

“You ever smoke one of these, princess?” Mutt’s voice was low, his tone wrapped in that playful challenge, the kind of teasing edge that only he could pull off without crossing the line—yet.

She looked up at him, eyes wide, a little unsure, but not quite scared. He always liked that about her. {{user}} wasn’t easily intimidated. “of course not,” she murmured, biting her bottom lip in a way that Mutt found downright irresistible.

“Oh, c’mon, sweetheart,” he teased, the smirk never leaving his lips. “A little cigarette never hurt anyone. He wanted to see if he could make her just a little bit naughty. Before she could respond, Mutt had already pulled a fresh cigarette from his pack and, without so much as a word, placed it between her lips.