#AND what is the deal of that stupid all male family photo

[janicekao]

No, Fuck You!

Pairing: Richie Jerimovich x Black oc (dark smut) Summary: Based off of season one of the series "The Bear." Carmen Berzatto, a culinary expert has to put his career on hold after his brother Michael's su1c1de being that Michael left the family's restaurant in Carmy's name. The restaurant is busted, in debt, and the staff is hardheaded. Carmy's "cousin" Richie is especially hardheaded. He's 45, doesn't like change in the restaurant, dabbles in illegal side hustles, thinks he's Italian, acts ghetto af, his attitude sucks, he's always cussing, and he is just a lot to deal with it. My addition to the story is an OC young lady who is hired at the restaurant to help with the finances and how badly her And Richie bump heads... until of course, they don't! Warnings: age gap, profanity, vi0lence, smut, fan fiction, public s3x,cr3am pi3, office siren aesthetic, submissive male, toxic, bwwm, fanfic, the bear, quickie, etc. 4038 words I also recommend viewing the story in Wattpad where I was able to use 20 photos in the story instead of tumblr's 10. Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 ------------------------------

It's a chilly winter morning in Chicago, and instead of sleeping in snuggly in his warm bed, Richie Jerimovich pulls into his job smoking an early morning ciggie with his suspended license in the pocket of his jeans.

Having trouble sleeping at night pure usual, Richie decides to pop into his job at a restaurant called The Beef two hours early before opening... Before there is even daylight. Although he yawns, he'd rather work instead of staring up at his bedroom ceiling thinking about how his wife is divorcing him, his daughter is growing up without her dad, and how he hardly has enough money to make his own rent next week... Richie enters through the back door of the restaurant and takes off his favorite leather jacket as he places it in his locker.

He grabs his uniform, a white apron and his favorite Tshirt with "The Beef" plastered across the right corner of the fabric.

Staring into the tiny and incredibly dirty locker sized mirror, he takes his gold chain from the inside of his shirt and dangles it on the outside of it. He smooths down his uncombed hair and prickly beard as he begins to chuckle cockily at his reflection. "You suave motherfucker you."

As Richie closes the door of his locker, he nearly jumps out of his skin... Spooked suddenly by the new girl who quietly stands behind his locker.

"Fucking hell!" He complains. "Lexie? Do I need to put a fucking bell on you or something? Don't ever sneak up on me! Make yourself known when you walk into a building!"

"Or what?" She instigates. "You'll pop me with that stupid fucking gun you lug around the restaurant with?"

"Yeah, maybe!" He scoffs. "Maybe I fucking will! And before you start, don't give me shit about the fact that I carry heat on me! If you were smart, you'd care a little pussy-pink magnum in your purse... walking around Chicago like you're untouchable, are you fucking insane?"

Lexie rolls her eyes.

"All I'm saying is make yourself known when you walk in here." He continues. "You got me?"

Lexie widens her stance as if Richie who is nearly a foot taller than her couldn't bench press her weight if he felt like it. "No, fuck you! You are the one who should make yourself known... I've been here long before you have."

He becomes even more short-tempered... "Sweetie, I've been here before you were even born!"

"I am speaking of this morning!" Lexie continues. "I thought you were some hobo breaking in through the back... But, it seems that I wasn't too far off."

"Fuck you. Why are you even here?" Richie wouldn't be Richie without furthering an argument. "You can't count the receipts up during your shift?! O-Or complete the payroll from your own fucking house!?"

Lexie's fists tighten. "If it were up to me, your greasy ass wouldn't even be on the payroll."

Richie chuckles... a laugh that fills Lexie with rage. "Well good thing it isn't up to you!"

"Now sign my check and hand it here." He grabs at her arm full of paperwork.

"Not until Friday!" Gritting her teeth, Lexie snatches away with all of her might. "If you're so broke, try being more charming to the customers and maybe you could take home some nice tips at night!"

She continues. "—BUT! Welcoming a customer inside by calling him 'the man with the golden dick' will get you nothing! I mean, seriously Richie?!

Richie had no idea Lexie pays so much attention to how he speaks to his regulars everyday... He feels that the people of Chicago love his charm and personality... Hell!— Arrogantly, he even believes that they come to The Beef just to see him!

Richie becomes offended. "Okay, first off— fuck you, and secondly— that's the best compliment a man could ever get!"

Lexie rolls her eyes once more before she turns to leave him.

—But, Richie just doesn't know how to quit. "Listen princess you're not here to teach us etiquette okay!? I seriously don't get why they hired you, Carmy's sister Sugar does all the paperwork here anyways!"

Lexie turns around, coming back to the argument as she reddens and continues to shout. "Because Sugar has a full time job and a husband, Richie! She can't spend all her time in this dump going through paperwork full of dust mites!"

"Fine, then why are you here at 4am?" Richie folds his arms, leaning against the lockers to stop Lexie from walking away. "I can't believe they gave you a fucking key."

"The feeling's mutual." Lexie nudges his forehead with her fingertips. "Giving you a key is as responsible as handing it to a bum on the metro. Now get out of my way!"

"You don't need to get nasty young lady." Richie's jaw clenches. He becomes terribly annoyed that the new girl can actually keep up with his banter— and the fact that she might just be better at it. "Take it back."

Lexie grins sarcastically. "Fuck you."

He flips her off. Using his fingertips under his chin, his favorite gesture when he's already said 'fuck you' enough.

She rolls her eyes. "As if I don't see you do that a thousand times a day. Grow up Richie! You're such a fucking child."

Wanting to leave the locker room, Lexie can't help but become curious as well.

"My turn." She insists, placing her items in an opened locker. "Now, why are you here?"

...

Richie gulps... He rather not talk about the stress of his life with a girl he swears is the worst investment the restaurant has ever made...

He came to work to clear his head, not to express to some chick that he feels like a forty-five year old deadbeat with no purpose in life.

"I dunno— checking... supplies and shit." He lies.

"No..." Lexie doesn't buy it. "I am here checking supplies for a list of our expenses and doing some budgeting—"

"BUDGETING!?" Richie explodes on his last straw. "Okay fuck this, you twenty-something-year olds have already changed the budget ten times!!! How much more money do we need to save!? The restaurant has already cut out so many classic dishes from the menu and now you're gonna cut back more!?"

"Yes! And if you're so concerned about how much money we bring in, try selling more sandwiches instead of eating them all fucking day!" Lexie blinks her long lashes sarcastically, making Richie fume even more and lose all of his patience.

"Damn it! I've had it with you!" Standing over Lexie, Richie begins to threaten her with a strong finger point into her face. "I have tried to be a gentleman, but you've taken me up to here!" He hovers his hand high above his head, expressing that her attitude has got him through the fucking roof.

"First of all..." Richie continues as he immaturely picks at her looks. "—You look fucking ridiculous! Coming into The Beef looking like a fucking principal in a tight fucking pencil skirt! Put on a Tshirt, and get elbow deep in some fucking grease! That's what we need! Not some Mary Poppins-fucking-secretary!"

"It's called business casual." She chuckles. "And as if we need some forty-five year old washup who leaves cigarettes everywhere, and smokes a pack a day!"

"You can't cook, you can't clean, and money comes up short every time you work the registers!"

"Fuck you, liar!" Becoming so unbelievably heated, strained veins of tension stands out of his neck each time he shouts. "I'd never mooch from this place! This place is my home, my family!"

"No?" She tilts her head in curiosity. "Well, what about you selling coke out of the back alley too! What would you call that!?"

"LABOR AND INVESTMENT." He shouts. "I'm making ends meet for this shit-hole because someone has to do it when the money gets fucking low! Tell me sweetheart, how the fuck do you think this place survived during Covid??? ME!"

...

Richie begins to insult her under his breath. "Maybe if your brains were half as big as your fat ass you'd understand better."

"EXCUSE ME!?" Lexie loses her calm.

For a moment there, she was able to keep up with Richie's attitude in a professional manner... However now, her fist down his throat would look pretty good to her.

Richie doesn't repeat himself...

"No! Fucking go ahead!" Lexie argues and begins to push against him, antagonizing a coming fight and nudging him for more. "You want to talk shit, then let's talk shit!"

"What are you doing? Now you wanna fucking fight me tough guy?" Richie rolls his eyes. "Listen, you're pressing your tits on me, you need to back off before we have a problem"

"YOU ARE THE FUCKING PROBLEM!!" Lexie lets out her true feelings of hatred towards him. "Do you know how smoothly this restaurant could run without you constantly aggravating someone!? You stress Carmy out every fucking day! I don't understand why he doesn't just fucking fire you already!"

She continues. "Name one day Richie, ONE DAY that you haven't aggravated someone over their limits with your constant bullshit?"

He scoffs. "It's because you fucking Chicago-gentrifying-fucking-millennials are pussies!!! No backbone!! Upset over everything. You, Carmy, and Sydney!"

"For someone who isn't good at shit, you sure are good at pissing people off!" Lexie continues to bark. "For Christ sake! Sydney stabbed you the other day in your ass for being such a prick!"

Embarrassed with his known behavior, Richie refuses to meet Lexie in her dagger like dark brown eyes.

"Syd said it was an accident..."His voice becomes meek like a baby.

"I wouldn't blame her if it wasn't!" Lexie shouts.

So used to being the one who annoys everyone else, Richie gets a taste of his own medicine as he continues to be annoyed by Lexie's presence. "Why the fuck were you even hired Lexie!? To keep up with the books and money because you're in Chicago's fucking community college taking up a finance class?"

He laughs. "We don't need you here! You're probably just fucking Carmy, aren't you!?"

...

The insult goes too far... Lexie winds her hand back and slaps Richie clean across the face.

His cheek heats red, yet he was raised to never lay a finger back on a woman. "Fine." He gulps. "I probably deserved that."

Her large brown eyes eat away at his heart as Richie notices the comment humiliated her into making tears form and glass over at the surface of her eyes.

"God damn right you deserved it." Lexie holds back her tears and ill intentions to cause Richie serious bodily harm.

Little does she know, in Richie's own sick and twisted way, he only brought it up because he's curious if she's already been snatched up by some other guy on the staff. Because if he had the chance, maybe he'd even be interested in her himself...

But he's sure no uppity bitch like Lexie would even look in his direction.

"This is what I mean." She scoffs. "You're disrespectful, and you're a piece of shit who just causes arguments."

Richie rolls his eyes. "And I always finish them too! So what the fuck do you want to do about it?"

...

The wrong thing to say to a woman who is suddenly about to lose herself. Lexie instantly shoves him against the locker... causing the metal material to ring and bang out loudly.

He gulps, fearing that the young cutie has been pushed far past her limits and that he's about to get his ass kicked.

"Okay, that was all you that time. I didn't say shit to you to deserve that!" Richie argues, attempting to strike fear in her heart. "But you listen... If you put your fucking hands on me again, I swear to god—"

"That you'll do what?!" Lexie entices.

Although comically smaller than the large man, she yanks him down to the wooden locker bench before them. "Sit down!"

He surrenders with his hands held high. "Okay baby chill, you're losing your shit right now, you need to take a chill—"

She grips his face as she stands over him. "DO YOU EVER JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!?"

A question that Richie knows not to answer...

Lexie finds herself staring at the pink puckered lips within her grasp and her thoughts become insane.

A glimmer in both of their eyes immediately changes the tension in the room into something far more worth the adrenaline.

Lexie slips out of the panties beneath her short pencil skirt...

"What— what are you doing?" Richie mumbles as his middle-aged heart beats harder than it ever has.

"Occupying your mouth to keep it from running so fucking much." Her panties slip down off of her heels and into Richie's lap as she tugs a brutal grip onto his short strands of hair... With her grip, Lexie forces Richie's head back and his mouth open as she places her cunt across his tongue.

Shocked and confused, Richie puts in work anyway. His tongue glides through her folds that surprisingly have slicked during their entire morning spent arguing and he begins to devour her pussy... A cunt so fresh, fat, warm, and half of his age.

The baritoned groans of his voice heat her core like nothing she has ever felt before. Lexie instantly grabs hold onto Richie's shoulders before her weakening knees begin to fail her.

Her eyebrows furrow as she begins to sweetly complain. "Oh fuck Richie..."

Glad to see that Richie's mouth has a better use than just arguing, Lexies squeals lightly as her eyes roll backwards in pleasure. She continues to fuck his face and be teased sweetly by his prominent nose, prickly unshaven face, and wildly fat tongue.

Richie becomes painfully aroused within his jeans. He moans into her cunt as his strong fingers grip at her waist tightly, bringing her closer across his face so his tongue can explore the depths of her flesh even further.

Blessed, yet confused, he begins to pause during his every word from suckling and gently kissing on her tasty mound. "What—the fuck—" He continues. "Are we—doing?"

Lexie squeezes her eyes tightly shut, almost orgasming each time she notices his sky-blue eyes staring up at her.

She bites her lip. "Just don't stop."

Richie hums through her pussy. "Mmm, Okay baby, I won't not til you tell me too."

Hands beginning to reach up her hips to cup at her waist, Lexie's mouth hangs open ajar... infatuated with how his strong fingers nearly double over the tiny measurements of her waist. Richie's grip on her is so powerful, forcing her not to run from his probing tongue and the lewd suckling and squelching that sound sloppily between her thighs.

Her legs begin to shake... Richie feasts on her as if his job depends on it.

She drags her full bottom lip between her teeth, begging for mercy as her core tightens with butterflies. "Mmmm'oh my god!" She whines.

Looking towards the dusty clock in the kitchen that hasn't been cleaned in years, Lexie realizes how close it is to the beginning of everyone's shift... morning prep.

Although time is almost out, she refuses to finish without having Richie put in more work and hammer her with cock.

"Get up. She demands. "Fuck me."

Lexie watches as Richie stands and tears off his apron to get to his pants.

Inside his trousers, Richie reveals a handsome ten inch cock. Veins protruding and swollen hard as it stands erect towards his belly button, Lexie can't wait to have the peach toned dagger deep into her guts. She begins to grin, glad to have trusted her instincts about skinny, tall men, who aren't worth shit. Although maybe not material for a husband, always trust that they'll have a cock big and gorgeous enough that it makes it worth the price of dealing with the constant bullshit that comes along with it.

Lexie wraps her legs around Richie's waist as he unbuttons her top and kisses at her neck and the fullness of her breasts that bulge from out of the top of her bra.

He lifts her against the lockers with clear impatience as he reaches beneath her to direct his cockhead into her flesh.

She coos sweetly. The tip of his erection, bulbous and hot as it lubes itself through the lips of her cunt, sliding backwards until it meets her tight, however inviting opening. She hisses as Richie slowly bucks forward, sheathing himself into her body.

"Jesus, Lexie."He groans out. His member being choked perfectly by her tight pussy.

Richie's many inches continue to dig forward until his hips are flushed against hers. She winces in pain as she tucks her forehead into the crook of his neck.

Richie softly hushes her stress, kissing sweetly at the parts available on her pretty little face. "Just hold onto my neck, okay?"

Lexie agrees through a quickened nod. She wraps her arms around his neck, wincing as the strokes begin.

Richie pulls out half way and slowly returns back fully into her core for his first impale. The two synchronize in a lewd and guilty first moan.

Richie picks up his speed, hips beginning to snap against her spread opened thighs as her pussy sops sticky and wet for him.

Lexie weeps soft tears as she gets railed by someone that she loathes with her entire being.

As her breasts bounce and spill from out of her dress shirt, hair tangling from what was a perfect blowout this morning, she soon realizes that nothing could be more delicious than early morning hate sex.

Richie watches beneath them at how well the little minx can take his cock, her sweet begging and the banging of the old lockers up against them encouraging him to go stronger and make her take his cream.

He stares at her lips, trying his best not to kiss them being that he still is so confused on where they stand... not even fifteen minutes ago, he was a second away from getting his ass kicked by her, and now suddenly... he finds himself balls deep between her legs.

He gulps. "Tell me what you want."

"For you to shut the fuck up." Panting for air, Lexie's brain becomes mush and only wanting to think about their sex.

He chuckles softly, complimenting her under his breath. "You're so fucking beautiful..."

"Yes mama, I'll shut the fuck up." He obeys. "Now what else do you want?"

"Drill me." Her eyes become low and sinister like a siren, full of sinful desire and without any shame. "Fuck me harder."

He nods. "Whatever you want."

Lexie clenches tightly around his shaft as Richie suddenly picks up a dangerous speed, spasming and slapping into her cunt as if she needed to be disciplined.

Now fucked out of her heels, her toes curl within her stockings. She begins to push on his slim and toned stomach for space between them.

—but Richie won't allow it. "Move your fucking hands." He shoves them away.

Her cunt pulses around him. Brain circuit-shorting as she gets embarrassingly used like a cock sleeve by one of the most unrespectable men of this job.

Yet, she wouldn't have it any other way.

Her whimpers become strangled, lips wet with drool.

"Look at you." Richie teases as the corners of his mouth begin to quirk. "Talk so much shit all morning long, but get real quiet with a cock in you."

"Mmm." He continues, skin hot and flushed as he tries to talk himself away from cumming. "You like this shit baby?"

A sudden slow pace blows Lexie's mind as Richie's lower abdomen knocks into her sensitive pearl. The feeling sends her to the moon.

Her nails dig into Richie's forearms as her walls contract around him, pulling his cock deeper inside awaiting to drain him of all his cum.

Richie's jaw goes slack, hips locking in place as he lunges further into Lexie's pussy until their bodies are flushed together.

A choked groan exits the depths of his throat. "Oh my fucking—"

Lexie covers Richie'a mouth as she hears keys and morning conversation outside of the restaurant near the front entrance.

Richie's cock twitches as it sputters out with hot cum. Filling Lexie's cunt with his spend until it begins to web around him.

His pleads and moans are terribly loud as she uses a second hand over the first to silence him.

Lexie's eyes roll backwards as she bites her lip, enjoying the thrill of being stuffed with cum as he throbs and becomes limp inside of her.

"Richie..." she gulps, whispering tiredly. "You'll have to keep quiet."

...

Eyebrows furrowed as he becomes hooked on the sound of her soft and tired after-sex voice, he'll do whatever she asks him to.

He nods, obeying as a good boy does however nearly biting his tongue off to silence himself as she takes her hands away. "Fucking hell Lexie... Goddamn baby."

He finally calms from his explosive climax, helping Lexie to her feet as they quickly begin to redress.

Stunned, Richie can't help but to watch her (mostly in love) as she places the heels back onto her feet to continue about her day.

Still alone near the lockers, they hurry to prep themselves before the crew comes inside in a few seconds.

"Jesus!" Richie laughs in excitement. "That was the best fuck I've had in—in, well fuck! In my whole fucking life."

Lexie rolls her eyes as he becomes giddy like a schoolboy.

With romance on his mind, Richie nearly begins to plan a day for her to meet his mother, hell— a day for them to marry! "Listen, babygirl, there's this incredible Italian spot on West Avenue, let me take you out—"

"Richie, please. Just shut up." Lexie ignores him as she quickly rebuttons her top and grabs her belongings from the locker.

...

He frowns, suddenly becoming furious.

"Alright wait a minute!" Richie refuses. "I just gave you a raw fuck in the back of the locker room and now I'm getting the cold shoulder? Are you my girl or what?"

Lexie scoffs.

"Fucking old guys..."She sighs in a quiet whisper, speaking mostly to herself. "Give em pussy once and they get all clingy."

Their arguing comes back at full speed. "It's not old guys you little fucking slut! It's called class, and respect! I wanted to take you out. Lexie, what the fuck do you even want with me?"

"Exactly what we had." She shrugs.

"What?" He lashes back. "I piss you off and then you go all horny she-devil on me and fuck my brains out?"

Lexie freezes in thought. "...yes"

Richie can't believe what he's hearing.

He scoffs, beginning to laugh in disbelief. "You're bugging. You're fucking insane, you know that?"

Lexie sighs as she continues to hurry from what they just committed. "I like things to be simple, okay? Did you enjoy it or not?"

Richie rolls his eyes. Pissed as if he's been used like a two cent whore. "Of course I did, fuck you Lexie.Don't ask me no stupid shit like that, you know I did."

Out of breath as the door chimes begin to ring up front, Lexie smiles softly. "Good! So you just be Richie, I'll be Lexie, and maybe we'll do it again sometime."

"Understand?" She questions, setting boundaries with Richie who is clearly a romantic.

...

He pauses.

Lexie sighs. "Do I need to ask again?"

"No." He pouts, spoiled from a taste of good pussy.

"Good." Lexie nods and grins tightly as if they just shook hands over a business deal before she begins to walk away.

"Hey." Richie grabs her. "Wait. —Kiss me."

"I'm not going to kiss you." Lexie tugs at his grasp, yet she isn't able to get out of it.

He bears over her... forcing her eyes upon him as he demands for what he wants. "Damn it Lexie, I'm not asking. Kiss me before I start making a fucking scene in here."

...

Lexie rolls her eyes, knowing that denying him of this isn't worth outing what they've done together.

"Fine." She gives in.

Placing his hands at her waist, Richie pulls her against him. His right hand reaches towards her face where he watches her closely... sweetly brushing her baby hairs out of his view. The hand softly cups the side of her face... wide enough to caress her jaw and neck as he forces her unto her toes to meet his lips.

Their lips finally meet... And the kiss is unbelievably tender... Quickly expanding into something more as their mouths open and tongues tangle.

Richie presses her tighter towards him, hand now trailing from her waist to a smack and grip onto her ass. The other hand leaves her cheek to his digits pulling tightly at her long black tresses.

Their eyes continue to stay closed as their moans heat each other's mouths. Tongue fucking each other with more heat than their actual sex...

Lexie finds herself breath taken and begging for more as Richie pulls away with an intoxicating sexy bite and pull to her bottom lip.

Her eyes soon flutter open.. She gulps, unsure to why it was the most romantic kiss that she has ever had.

Richie grins as he notices the stunning blush that begins to heat her face.

"Now..." Richie bites his lip as he continues to stare at her beauty, smoothing her hair and tucking it behind her ears. "Now you can go."

Unsure of the butterflies in her stomach, she stares into Richie's eyes and slowly nods.

Slightly mad at herself for feeling a growing crush, she can't believe that it is what she's thinking it is... Hell!— She'd even have to beat her own ass if she were to begin falling for Richie Jerimovich...

"I-I have to go now." Lexie gulps.

"Mhm." He nods. "Have an excellent day, sweetie."

She stumbles lightly over her feet, still high off of Richie's kiss and he quietly begins to chuckle.

He's got her right where he wants her. Although Lexie claims to not want anything serious, he's determined to convince her otherwise.

The crew finally begins to pour inside and Richie wishes everyone a good morning.

He loves his job... He loves his family here.

A team of hard working Chicago locals, just trying to make it through day by day. Real people working real jobs.

The Beef is Richie's home. And if things go right... One day, Lexie could be that too.

As Carmy readies himself for the day and prepares himself to run a business he never expected to own... He shouts, wanting a minute alone with his cousin Richie as they dap each other up while they greet.

"Aye good morning, talk to me for a sec Cousin..." Carmy begins. "Listen Richie, when you and Michael began hiring for the restaurant, you hired people who quickly became like family. You have a knack for this Richie, and I trust your judgement."

Carmy continues. "I wanted to ask you, what do you think about this new girl on the books? Yeah, she's saved us a lot of money and things are running smooth as shit... but is she one of us? Can she keep up with the crew?"

Richie shrugs.

Reaching into the pockets of his jeans, his fingers rustle the lace fabric of Lexie's thong that he kept as a souvenir from their early morning quickie before the break of dawn.

The thought of their morning together alone suddenly makes Richie's heart flutter and eats wildly at his soul...

"Yeah." He gulps. "She's a fucking bitch... but yeah, she's one of us. She's part of the family."

"So fuck it... she stays?" Carmy asks.

Richie chuckles. "Yeah.. if we're lucky."

A delivery man pops inside the restaurant as they continue to chat and Carmy signs a form on the man's clipboard before the man leaves again.

"What was that for?" Richie yawns. "Ordered more napkin supply or some shit."

"Nope! All good on supplies." Carmy pats Richie on the back. "Just signing the invoice on the security cameras we had installed last week."

...

A chill suddenly falls down Richie's spine.

He looks up at the ceiling, noticing the new cameras installed in every corner of the restaurant. The entrance, the counter, the kitchen, and the fucking locker room.

Richie freezes in absolute horror. "Oh fuck."

[sgiandubh]

Just so stories: Mommy and Daddy

In the (questionably) blessed White Picket Fenced America of 1955, things were deceptively simple:

Mommy stayed home, while Daddy was earning enough cash to buy that new Frigidaire.

Uhm. No, not really: see what happens to Mad Men's Betty Draper, the pearl-stringed suburbia matron. Not exactly a cheerful look, but perhaps a true, albeit neurotic, one.

For some unfathomable reason, one of the main dismissive arguments used against shippers reads along some very similar lines. I paraphrase, as this is a collective POV (probably stemmed from CO's laboratory and snowballed to great success across their dashboards):

'Oh, aren't they stupid! How can they expect C to follow him around the world, children in tow, at his beck and call? Or to wait for him, military wife style, as he traipses from Vegas to London to Paris to Belgium? What are these, The Fifties?'

To this Dorothy Dixon, along comes one of the Tumblrette Pundits, with a ready-made answer, always the same:

'Of course they are stupid! Of course she doesn't! Every time she is working somewhere, she brings McSideburns and The Blonde Bambino around! And McSideburns takes care of Blonde Bambino, as he should! Reality, not fantasy!'

Let alone they have absolutely no clue about the real state of play, given the almost complete, paranoid opacity reigning since at least a Certain Sad Event. Let alone that no other logical/common sense argument provided is accepted (cults seldom deal in both acceptance and common sense);

Nannies? Pah, so 1992! Family safety net? Pah, so suburban! Working parents? Pah, these people are stars, their life is a cornucopia of perks and freebies and glam!

So, in a nutshell, according to them:

Mommy is busy working and Daddy follows all along/ stays at home with Blonde Bambino, hoping that Mommy will bring enough cashola to finish that double glazing people usually install in December.

In other words, we immediately picture C as a 'starke, titanische Weib' / the strong, titanic woman German poets were so fond of back in the 1800's. Dragging along a diminutive, shy, understanding and private McSideburns, trousered Vestal extraordinaire. The rest is taboo (or should be, in my book), at any rate.

Something wrong with this vision? Yes. It's exactly the 1950's one they accuse us of espousing (we don't), but this time the male/female symbolic roles are reversed. As a result, a shrink would have many thoughts and probably a handful of questions about that need to completely castrate the Goddess's Consort to perfect oblivion. Obliterating his life, his story and even his name, for Christ's sake!

Not a good look for either C and The Prop and, to be honest, quite a weird, borderline insulting one, especially when coming from 'respectful, realistic' fans. The real utility seems to be concealing the emptiness of a Tale Forever Untold. It will be effectively replaced by the chorus with the perfect fantasy of a modern dad, a successful producer/manager and so on and so forth.

Reality is a bit different, if you just take a look on The Fratellis' Wikipedia page and follow the links:

But, but, but... 'additional personnel' (😱😱😱) - how could that be?

And yes, remember (LOL) David Eustace and the FMN shooting photo of the Happy Dynamic Duo? Happy to oblige to a friend who provided a work project (that album was postponed two or three times, then released in 2021) during COVID, probably.

The mere thought of a young, urban, sophisticated, committed and trusting couple, living and loving their best life, traveling separately or together, allowing 'spaces in their togetherness' (wasn't that The Prophet quote she liked and shared?) is something that gives them the shingles. Anything but this. Anything - even that sad The Empress and Her Additional Personnel narrative.

You see, they don't like The Obvious. At all.

[silencesscreams]

high infidelity

peter parker x f!reader

you know there’s many different ways that you can kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough.

warnings: college!, cheating?, toxic relationships, drinking, kissing, making out, SMUT, dirty talk, a bit of degradation, teeny tiny bit of angst, choking, oral ( f. receiving), no use of protection (please be careful and use protection irl), nicknames like princess or baby, cuddles, aftercare??

an: this happens after the whole nwh incident, so they are both 18+ AND I ABSOLUTELY LOVE COLLEGE! + PETER

it was 6 in the morning, you were brushing your teeth as your phone started to ring.

‘chris <3’ was written on the screen, along with a picture of him sticking his tongue out, that goddamn photo, it mocked you. you eyed your phone for a while before picking up, you had a fight last night, you didn’t remember the reason though. probably something you said, you hadn’t been seeing him in person for a few days now, you had been spending the winter break at your grandmothers. going back to uni on that same day you fought. chris studied there too, but he was on another level. he had come from dozens of private schools, uniforms and everything else in the deal, his acceptance was guaranteed on his last name. maybe it all was just a game for him.

“hey, did i wake you up?” he questioned, once you put the phone on speaker.

“hi chris. you didn’t, is everything alright?”

“yeah, just wanted to check in. you haven’t texted me since that talk we had” it wasn’t a talk. it was him screaming on the phone with you, like you had killed his entire family and burnt down his house, when you had just told him you felt sorry about not getting accepted on the internship at the stark industries, and talking about how peter parker, a guy in your hall that had gotten accepted when he was in high school.

“yeah… sorry about what i said, i know how you feel about me being friends with guys and all. and we never even really talked babe, he was just my biochemistry partner last semester.” you apologized, not wanting to discuss this at the time, maybe you’d just let it go. it was no use anyways. the relationship had been falling apart for a while now.

“it alright. just don’t do it again. ‘gonna get breakfast at the diner with lucas and the boys, so ill talk to you later, alright? text you when i get there.”

“sure” you replied as he hung up. maybe you should break up, just rip the band aid off, you know? it was clear that it would happen sooner or later. it was stupid to keep it like that, all the fighting was just idiotic.

when you got to the chemistry lecture, you got to your usual seat, middle row third seat. you spent a few minutes biting the inside of your cheeks while checking your phone from minute to minute. you hated when he did that. you couldn’t quite find a way to finish your relationship and not end up being crucified, you felt in high school again. all the parties, homework, relationship issues. you could feel so impotent around him, like everything you say is wrong and he’ll always know better than you because he went to ivy-

“hey, y/n, right?” you heard a male voice say, turning around to face yourself with peter parker.

“y-yeah. peter?” you replied, looking at him smiling.

“that’s me. is this seat taken? its always nice to be around a familiar face so…” he asked, pointing to the seat on your left, that was occupied by your backpack.

“oh, right, no its not taken!” you answer quickly removing your things from the chair so he can sit down, trying to be as nice as possible. he quickly sat down, eyeing you in awkwardness.

“hear you applied for the stark memorial thing, that’s nice of you!” he smiles, taking out his notebook. “sorry, uhm, i forgot my pencil… so could you maybe…?”

“oh sure! absolutely!” you had gotten lost in your own sea of thoughts smiling at him. ever since you’ve met peter you’ve felt something about him. maybe now your relationship is almost over you could maybe have a shot, you don’t know at what, but you could.

mid presentation, peter slips you a note. something he was afraid to say, but felt the urge.

‘wanna go to a party next week?’

you look at him, right next to you with an intrigued smile.

‘where?’

you write, and quickly give it back to him.

‘john’s, first floor of your dorms building. it’ll be around nine, i can bring you as an extra if you’d like.’ when he gives it back, you immediately feel bad, having to turn him down like this.

‘sorry peter, just remembered i’m going out with my boyfriend that night. its our anniversary, so sorry. would love to go, though!’ you give the note back with an empathetic smile. you can see that he feels a bit embarrassed, you hate it.

for the rest of the lecture he’s absolutely quiet, you can feel him eyeing you, some sort of feeling you couldn’t quite decipher.

as the teacher started to close up, he gave you a piece of paper.

“my number, if you ever need it. feel free to text.” he smiles at you, picking up his bag and leaving. maybe you should text, just maybe.

it was around half past eight when you realized something, your boyfriend wasn’t coming. in fact, he stood you up.

‘fuck you chris. this is it.’

well, you needed to text him something, maybe it was the heat of the moment, or just an impulsive thing. you only realized what you were doing when peter picked up.

“hello?” he said over the phone.

“hi peter, its y/n, is that invite still up?” in the past week, the two of you had been talking a lot, mostly texting. you met up in a starbucks twice to work on homework, but that was mostly it. sure, you’d developed a small crush, but you still had a boyfriend. but maybe that wasn’t the situation anymore.

“y-yeah, can i pick you up? is everything alright?”

“sure. ill be ready in five, see you soon.” you hang up, deciding it is go time, no matter what was going to happen after, this was your shot at it. maybe you could have some fun. he was always fun.

a few minutes later, you were locking you door as he waited for you to go with him.

“hope you didn’t have to cancel with anyone for this, sorry for the mast minute call.” you apologize, putting your keys in your purse.

“oh its fine dont worry, i wasn’t planning on bringin anyone else.” he smiled at you, while walking. you could tell he’d sprayed on some perfume and that his hair was still damp, you found it sweet he put effort in to getting ready for the night out. “what happened to your date with chris?” he questioned, almost puking the words out, he seemed nervous about it.

“oh, hm, i guess i got stood up. sorry, that makes you seem like a second option, but i truly wanted to go so i remembered and i dont want you to-“

“its alright, y/n. i get it, hes an asshole for standing you up like that.” he interrupted your blabbering.

“yeah, i guess he is.”

“what do you want? on me, please!” he says loudly, ao you could hear him through the music, he took a sip out of his beer, staring at you.

“just a shot! i hate the taste of beer, no offense though!”

“nome taken, sweetie.” he looks over your shoulder, and you can see a frown forming on his face. “you wanna go somewhere else? i dont feel like this’ll go well.” he says, his voice a bit lower now.

“what do you mean?” you say, so you turn around and you see him. chris. casually smoking, with a girl by his side and his free hand on her thigh. “seriously? fuck him.” you mutter, looking over at peter.

“no, its fine, dont worry about me.” you smile, the shots are delivered and you quickly take one. the taste of vodka and a bit of lemon going down your throat, burning hot. you can see through glances they have started to make out, he probably didnt notice you yet, so he’d come up with some excuse later.

but peter needed to make sure he did.

“hey, wanna go dance? fuck chris, lets have some fun, alright?” he said, taking you by the hand to the dance floor, with a dozen bodies moving to some song you didnt quite recognize. his breath hitched over your neck as you moved with him, your arms over his neck and your hips swaying to the beat. if you ever had a doubt he was into you, that was quickly offset by the way his eyes roamed your body. focused on every inch of you. god, he loved that dress.

“your boyfriends staring…” he whispered into your ear, nipping at it.

“oh, im sure hes not my boyfriend anymore. besides, we should put on a show for him, shouldn’t we?” you smile at him, turning around and starting to grind against him. you could hear him whisper curses, and you knew you both were in for one hell of a night. you could feel him grow through your dress, eager for more, but tonight, you were having the urge to tease him (more than you already were).

you never did that to piss off chris, you did it because you wanted peter. because peter parker was just perfect for you. maybe that was how you knew this wouldn’t ever be a one time thing. as the music was fading to its end, you turned to him, looking him in the eye.

for a moment there, you got lost in him. you forgot what you were about to say. his eyes had a bit of green in them, you had never realized that, maybe because you should’ve let yourself get lost in him before.

“y/n” he calls, pulling you from your thoughts.

“yeah?” and then you realize. he was staring back, and he was close. god, was he close.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” you are both quickly interrupted by chris, trying to push peter away from you, but he was faster, dodging him.

“id ask you the same, christian. you bailed on me, what’d you want me to do, huh? stay at the restaurant? waiting patiently for you to finish fucking some other girl, and eating appetizers? because that’s the ideal night! we’re over and you know it, leave me alone.”

“and so you cheat on me with this dick because i bailed on you once? really? fuck you y/n!” he says, screaming at you, his voice was louder than the music.

“i’m cheating on you?! I cheated on YOU? chris, for the past four months you’ve ditched 15 dates, a total of 5 dinners, two breakfast occasions and 8 lunches in the dining hall, honestly, where were you? why couldn’t you just send a fucking text? what? were you just too busy in bed with some other girl? because you sure as hell are missing tons of classes, there’s gotta be an answer right? fuck you chris. just leave me alone.” you scream back, if this was the last time he screamed at you, you sure as hell wouldn’t take it all in. he makes his usual, but more extreme, i want you to die face and walks away, slamming on to you purposefully as he walks.

in a matter of seconds you see peter punching chris, and you’re instantly shocked because you never saw peter as a guy who fights, and you were two times more shocked once you se chris falling to the ground.

god, was peter hot in that moment. he ran his hand through his hair.

“come on, lets get out of here.” he says, his eyes a bit darker now. and you were in, you were in for all of it.

“sorry, i know punching exes is more of a 5th date kind of thing.” he says, hissing as you put his dominant hand in a bucket of ice.

“i’m okay with it.” you said, leaning against the cold tiles of peter’s bathroom wall. after the ‘fight’ you needed to take care of him, and so you decided to kill two birds with one stone, going back to his place.

“just to clarify, i don’t usually get in to fights. ever. but i don’t know, him slamming in to you like that? god, y/n, he’s such an asshole.” peter said looking at the door to his room, seeing it quickly open and close, it was his roommate.

“can i talk to him for like 5 minutes tops?” he asks, his brows furrowed. you nod, smiling at him.

he leaves the bathroom, closing the door after him. you could hear him whisper to his friend.

“please, steven just leave for a few hours just do me a favor, man!”

“who do you have here? please don’t tell me its chris’s girl because he’ll kick your ass” there was a pause. “you are so dead.”

“they broke up, please let me try please!”

“i’ll sleep at carson’s, but i swear to god, if it goes bad for you i’m not covering for your ass.”

“fair enough! thank you thank you thank you!” you giggle at his excitement, so you hike your dress up, and continue sat on the bathroom floor, making sure he could see a glimpse of your underwear once he walked in.

peter was sweet and perfect for you, but you never imagined yourself in that situation, and to be fully honest, you were loving it.

when he walks in to the bathroom again, you try your hardest to not blush because damn it, all he said was “hi” and you’re 3 seconds away from taking off all of your clothes and kissing him.

he sits next to you, eyeing your thighs. he wonders if you were dressed up like that once you called him, or if you had changed to see him. he surely hoped that dress was for him, because he was so jealous of chris in that moment. every day he was jealous of chris, not because he felt inferior, because chris could see you like that. because chris could hear you moan his name. peter never wanted someone so bad in his entire life.

“it was just steven, you remember him right? from biochem?” you nod, staring at him for a while now.

“do you, uhm, need any more ice?” you ask, looking at his red knuckles, trying to focus on something else (which obviously doesn’t work).

“why’d you call me?” he asks abruptly.

“what?”

“why did you call me ?”

“because i could trust you, i guess, i don’t know.” you answer, feeling a bit ashamed.

“why’d you leave him? i mean, after all this time? you knew about all his bullshit didn’t you?”

“peter, once you just appeared back into my life i took it as a sign, i mean, staying with him was killing me. you know him, right? you went to school with him”

“yeah i did, but it just doesn’t make sense to me, what are we? i’m not just someone you can call when your boyfriend’s not around, i’m sorry to be rude but i’m not that guy, y/n, and if that’s what you’re looking for, i don’t want it.” “peter. i want you okay? you’re the only person i want, the only person i’ve wanted for a while now. he never loved me enough, hell, he never loved me. i don’t want him, i want you. please, just believe me in me, please.” you say quickly, trying to get all your feelings out, though they could never be translated to words, he stares at you, wondering what to do next. and so he kisses you.

it starts off as a soft thing, a delicate and sweet kiss. you part your lips, waiting for him to reciprocate. and so it turns into a passionate and messy kiss, your tongues intertwining and you could taste him, you could taste his minty breath. you could taste peter fucking parker. and with that, you don’t waste any time.

your hands drift off to his hair, tugging on it, kissing him desperately. you feel his hands roaming your waist, he starts kissing your neck, nipping at it, whispering onto your skin.

“you have no idea for how long i’ve wanted you, fuck…” he whispers, helping you up and bringing you towards his bed, hands on your ass and not stopping his kisses on your neck, he sits you on bed, his knee aiming towards the inside of your thighs, he takes his shirt off and his jeans had already fell to the carpet, you couldn’t help but smile, he was so pretty.

“i saw what you did there, don’t think i didn’t notice.” he says, referring to the was you looked in the bathroom.

“i have no idea what you’re talking about” you whisper through a moan, as he starts kissing your chest, pulling your dress down and unclipping your bra.

“don’t lie to me, you know better then that…” he says, looking at you with those eyes, he quickly starts sucking onto your left nipple.

while he works on your tits with his mouth, his right hand is headed towards your lace panties, only playing with the hem of it.

“that alright, princess?” you nod a yes in answer. “i wanna hear you say it.” “fuck, yes, its great, peter… please.” you answer in the midst of moans.

“good. do you like this? did you get what you wanted, huh?” he asks, kissing your thighs, everywhere but not where you most needed him, he was teasing you.

“y-yeah, i wanted you so bad, please.” you say, hands trailing off to his hair again, you could feel your panties getting wetter by the second, and he knew that too.

he takes them off slowly, teasing you more and more.

“so wet, all for me, baby?” peter asks, kissing the inside of your thighs, making sure to leave marks.

“ yes, pete, all for you, please…” you nod, desperately, needing him more and more.

“what’d you want, huh? tell me, y/n.” he asks, looking at you with doe eyes, spreading your legs for him to see more. he was loving to see you like this, he needed it again and again every day and it was only just beginning.

“i… i need you to touch me, please, taste me, please” you ask, feeling your face getting hotter, his hands roaming your waist, you can feel your stomach sink with need.

“that was all you needed to say, smart girl” he answers, licking a broad stripe from top to bottom, he tasted all he could. “you’re so pretty honey, so fucking pretty"

peter inserts a finger in, causing you to moan, you could feel his grin over your clit. sucking on to your bud, you couldn’t believe you’d spent all this time without this side of him. as he stretches you out, inserting another finger, you feel as if you touched heaven and came back. you had never felt this way, with anyone. it was him.

“fuck!” you moan as he brings a third finger into the equation, his mouth and hands working together, just for you.

“peter i’m so close please” and just with that, he stops, leaving you empty and eager for more. and just like that he’s on top of you again, kissing you eagerly, making you get a taste of yourself. his dominant hand on your neck, squeezing it softly, just enough.

“you’re so fucking hot” he whispers against your lips, you can feel his grin on your skin as he kisses your neck again, nipping and leaving marks all over. your pussy aching for him, you needed him inside you so so so bad.

“peter” you whisper, trying to get his attention, though he seems very entertained by your neck and how mane hickeys he could leave.

“yeah?” he immediately stops, looking at you, his brows furrowed.

“i need you inside me. i need your dick.” you say, getting more red, his lips swollen and pink, he looks beautiful. his hair messy, you wanted him so bad.

“yeah? you need my dick?” he asks, teasing you, a smirk forming itself on his face.

“please, peter. i need you so much” you say, nodding with your words. he looks at you with his eyes shiny. he takes himself out of his underwear, you’d already seen his bulge but you still were surprised. he starts aligning himself to your hole, tapping his tip on your clit, teasing you.

“so pretty like this, all for me” he says, slowly pushing in, “fuck…” he sighs, you moan trying to adjust to his size. he feels like heaven inside you. he starts thrusting lightly into you.

“harder… please i need you so bad, please, peter.” you say, looking at him over you with doe eyes, a smirk forms on his face, hearing you say those words.

“thats all you needed to say, princess.” he says, slamming into you quickly. You moan out unrecognizable words, a mix of “fuck” with “ohmygod” and “peter”. he was so fucking good, slamming into you, whispering curses, using his free hand to stimulate your clit. you were almost there, reaching your high, as you started to clench around him.

“no, don’t. not yet.” he says firmly, still pounding into you.

“please…” you ask, looking at him with those doe eyes again.

“no.” he answers again. “i want to cum with you.” he slams into you again, harder this time. picking up his pace, when suddenly his right hand is on your neck, squeezing it slightly.

“this okay?” he asks, you nod a yes. he’s pounding into you, you’re loving it. he has the power over you and you have to admit, you’re more turned on now than you ever were in your relationship with chris. you weren’t going to be able to hold back any longer, scratching his back with your nails, leaving marks all over.

“please, peter, i need to cum so bad please!” you beg, he looks at you with green eyes, brows furrowed.

"please princess, please cum for me." he says, his thumb not stopping at your clit, as you’re moving your hip with his. it takes no more than a few seconds until you're reaching your peak and moaning loudly. it's different from anything you've ever felt and you're trembling, moaning into peter's shoulder and leaving little crescent marks on his back from your nails. you could feel him twitch as you clench around him, his cum leaking inside you, carrying you through your high.

“fuck, so good all for me. my little slut.” he whispers while grunting and squeezing your neck more and mora tightly. your mouth forming an ‘O’ shape. God, was he good.

as soon as he finished, he dropped over you, his sweaty body coverings yours. you feel incredibly empty when he pulls out and lays beside you.

“you were so good.” he says, getting himself together and snuggling himself beside you. “i’ll clean you up in a bit, can we just stay like this a little?”

“sure.” you say, smiling, knowing it wouldn’t be a one time thing.

[veeluvss]

SURVIVOR

Chapter eight

JJ got the call from Emily at around 7 pm. The girls were on the sofa watching Tangled when it came through. Elle paused it and JJ answered the phone.

“Hey,” JJ said. “Hi, JJ, how are you feeling?” “I’m okay, tired.” “We have a case, I’d like your thoughts on it if you can come in.” “What’s the case?” JJ asked, gulping. What if it was her? Elle rubbed her back, tentatively, sensing the girl's worry. “I can’t say details over the phone but it’s a local one. You’ll be home every night if that’s what you need. We could just really use all hands on deck here,” Emily said. “I’ll be there in ten,” JJ said. “Brilliant. See you then, JJ.” Emily hung up and JJ turned to Elle, worry evident in her expression. Her brows furrowed and a few tears even filled her eyes.

“No. No, listen to me,” Elle said. She cupped JJ’s cheeks, “You go in and if it is these cases baby then you have to turn them away from you. You’re trained in this, you know the ins and outs.” “Elle, I’m trained to catch the bad guy. I am the bad guy.” “No, you did what was best. You did the right thing.” “I murdered them, all six of them, Elle.” “You did it to save people, baby. That’s amazing. You’re saving people for good and I’m so proud of you!” “You are?” JJ asked, her brow furrowed. “So proud. Now I’m going to be more proud of you if you go to work and show them who's boss, okay? Prove it was someone else, anyone else.” “Okay,” JJ nodded. She stood up and then sat back down. “Thank you.” She kissed Elle sweetly, with love. “I love you, JJ.” “I love you, Elle,” JJ replied and headed to the door. “I’ll call you.” “Please do.”

JJ arrived at the BAU fifteen minutes later, ready to start work on the case. Immediately upon entering the round table room, she was met with her victim's faces plastered on the board. “JJ, you’re back!” Garcia cheered and hugged her best friend. JJ smiled and hugged Garcia back before taking her seat and opening her file. She texted Elle a simple: it is. And got back to the case as Emily began presenting.

“Six bodies have turned up across Virginia and DC with the latest one having been discovered, in his home, this morning. All males between the ages of 23 and 40 all with the words ‘Rapist’ carved into either their chests or foreheads. They’ve been beaten and stabbed and the bodies show evidence of extreme overkill. Particularly this one,” Emily said. On the screen flashed the picture of the man JJ killed in the alley, the one she ran over with the car.

“Are those- track marks?” Rossi asked, analyzing the photo. “They are. The victim seems to have been run over by a car, most likely the unsubs car.” “There’s some real anger there. What was used to carve out the words?” Tara asked. “Glass and a knife it changes,” Emily replied. “Extreme overkill,” JJ muttered, “The unsub was clearly very angry at the victim.” “It’s most likely a woman, considering the words carved into his head and the fact she ran over him with a car to give the final blow,” Luke said. “But the body shows clear signs of a fight first, the bruised face and body,” JJ responded. “Luke’s right. It must be a woman with a fighting history, some sort of combat training,” Tara chimed in. “Garica is looking at security footage in the area to see if we can get any information on the car, Luke and Dave, I want you to go speak to the ME, and see what else we’re dealing with here, JJ and Tara and I, I want to talk to the victims' families, they are on their way now.” The team all got up and got their things together, ready for their tasks. However, JJ was still stuck on Emily’s words - information on the car. As soon as they see the car leaving that alley at the time of death, she is done for. How could she be so stupid? She was so caught.

“JJ?” Emily asked, “You okay?” “Huh?” JJ asked, looking up at her, still unable to decipher what was happening. “I asked if you were okay,” Emily replied. She pulled out a chair and sat beside JJ. “What’s going on?” “Oh,” JJ flushed red. “I was just thinking about what to say to the victim’s families- you know - since they were you know - rapists and all.” “It’ll be a tough one in that sense but you’ve also got to remember they were loved and appreciated by their families,” Emily replied. She had no idea about JJ’s past or recent past, even - not about the rape anyway. “How could anyone love a rapist?” JJ muttered. Emily sighed. “Are you up for this, JJ? I can send you with Luke and Rossi.” “Yes please,” JJ whispered. She didn’t want to face their families. “I can’t face the mother of a rapist.” “Okay, I’ll call them now and tell them to wait. They shouldn’t have left yet. You go ahead, call me if you need anything.” You’ll be arresting me, soon, JJ thought. “Will do,” she said. She slid out of her chair and headed down to the elevator where Rossi and Luke waited. “You okay, kid?” Rossi asked, putting a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. JJ could only nod, not trusting her voice.

JJ sat in the back of the car while Luke and Rossi sat up front, she didn't respond to their questions, at least not properly. She texted Elle the details of the case. She told her how Garcia was looking for the car and soon it’ll come to light that it was Elle’s car and how she was then done for. Elle was trying to reassure her girlfriend over text but it wasn’t working and JJ was working herself up more and more. “JJ, what do you think?” Luke asked over his shoulder. “About what?” JJ asked, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. “Whether the unsub is a woman or not.” “Well you said it was, Tara agreed,” JJ replied. She didn’t want to input, in case she said the wrong thing. “You said it was a man, though.” “I only said that because of the fighting history. Any woman could have that too. She’d just have to be super strong to take down two men at once,” JJ said. “You’ve taken down two men at once, before,” Luke said. He continued but JJ didn’t hear the rest. Her ears began ringing and she grabbed her head, in pain. “JJ!” Rossi shouted but JJ had curled herself up on the back seat. Her head was pounding - throbbing. Shooting pains shot through her temples. The car pulled over and Luke opened JJ’s door. “Kid, hey,” Rossi said, grabbing JJ’s arms. JJ screamed at the touch. She scrambled as far as she could away from him. Luke rang Emily.

The three of them stayed on the side of the road until Emily came to collect JJ. She was exhausted, with her head between her knees, still in extreme pain. Her chest was tight with anxiety and she just wanted her home. She needed Elle. “I’m so sorry guys,” Emily said to Luke and Rossi who were now late to meet the ME. “It’s not your fault,” Luke said back, holding open JJ’s door.

“JJ, can you hear me?” Emily asked, sitting beside the younger girl. “I don’t want a lecture,” JJ muttered. “Just want to go home.” “Then get out of the car and I can take you home, okay?” “You promise you’ll take me home?” JJ asked, lifting her head slightly. “Yes, JJ. I promise. Come on,” she held out her hand. JJ ignored the outstretched hand and headed straight to Emily’s car with her head down. She didn’t bother saying anything to her two teammates. Emily grabbed JJ’s phone from the car seat and headed to the driver’s door. JJ had her belt on the passenger side and Emily handed over her phone. JJ snatched it back and began texting Elle immediately. Emily couldn’t help but sigh as she started the car. What was going on with her?

[alleunwalk]

tokyo revengers idol au hcs part 3 that no one asked for AGAIN here’s part 1 and part 2 to get a better understanding.  this is what the members would be doing alongside their idol promotions+ what they would post on social media  toman tbh these guys are all just so damn funny on their own that they would constantly be invited to comedy variety shows. maybe perhaps doing something similar to seventeen or wanna one where they even have their own variety show on youtube (ie. seventeen’s-going seventeen series or wanna one’s show on mnet)  mikey-he would post basic food pics like of his parfaits or taiyaki but also it’s rare because he’d constantly forget his password. however on important days he’ll post long emotional and sentimental posts that hit you in your feels thanking his members and fans always. he also has a youtube channel posting random funny vlogs. draken- he has his own personal soundcloud to upload solo mixtapes/songs feat diff members. posts photos of his bikes and different tattoos he would be getting. responds with 1-2 words to fans during fansigns or ig comments but like mikey, once in a while, will also write heartfelt posts thanking everyone.  baji- his ig feed is filled with animals + dance practice vids. also has his own soundcloud too. trolls his members by commenting on their stuff. “delete this u ugly mf no one wants to see this”.  takemichi- very chatty, (sometimes too chatty where he’ll end up accidentally spoiling their next album info) and interactive on social media to his fans. tries his best to respond to most comments or ama ig stories questions. posts a lot of selfies and photos of his members. king of fan service.  chifuyu- beautiful photos of the sky a lot on his ig (in canon he wanted to be a pilot :,) ) along with cute soft selfies. (which baji and kazutora troll and comment being like “damn....u ugly AF!” “lmao stop pretending to act cute u loser”  kazutora- his ig is filled with pure chaos. just pics of him catching his members slipping (sleeping photos where they’re drooling or have their eyes slightly open or making ugly faces behind the scenes). also has photos of cursed memes and memes made by fans. he’s a literal enigma.  mitsuya- very wholesome ig photos- lots of photos of his family, group photos, sometimes cool artsy edited selfies. occasional photoshoot photos.  hakkai- ig is filled lots of #ootd photos and occasional photos from his modeling or acting gigs (he’s the visual, duh!) gets a lot of sponsorships from big brands.  pah-chin: has a joint youtube channel with peyan. they do silly challenges but will sometimes post dance videos (feat. baji) since they’re the main/lead dancers. fans love him because of his “matter-of-fact” responses that are funny without even trying. (example- fan comment: omg i love u guys soooo much u guys are the best in the whole world!!!<333 toman OUTSOLD!.  pah-chin: idk about best in the world but we’ll just take “the best in our neighborhood” for now i guess. thanks.”)  peyan: joint youtube channel with pah-chin. at fan signs mikey has to warn him to chill out cuz peyan will accidentally yell and scare fans without meaning to, but he’s just really excited to meet his fans is all ^_^   angry: posts a lot of wholesome photos like mitsuya (selfies with smiley) and writes a lot of motivational sweet captions cheering fans up and reminding them to always be happy :,)  smiley: joint youtube account with angry. smiley does a lot of prank videos and angrys just usually in the back like  🧍‍♂️... he also does tiktok- he would be doing all the dances, memes, and trends.  inui: ok hear me out, i mentioned before inui has similar vibes as cha eunwoo so i’d figure his ig would give the same vibe as his (iykyk). since he’s the other visual he would be getting a TON of acting and modeling gigs. idk why but i feel like inui would be a great actor (his facial expressions during tenjiku arc, the range!). actor of the year. gets a lot of skincare commercial deals too. 

black dragons shinichiro- photos of bikes, cars, and photos where hes pretending to do a cool pose but his members (+mikey) would troll and comment “LAME!!!!!” “why tf do u look like that?” “hey leader, it’s not too late to delete this now bestie :)” does fun ig lives. on variety shows as a joke his members tease him there as well. really great at fan-service and pulls the whole “pretend boyfriend” scenario with fans (the delusional fans are gonna act up if he keeps this up...).  taiju- (if shinichiro did not exist in this au OR if you wanted both in the group) photos of him at the gym, photoshoot photos.  inui- similar to if he was in toman, his ig would just be a lot of cool and cute photos of him from behind the scenes of dramas or photoshoots. a soft visual king. occasional selfies with koko and bike photos.  kokonoi- has a personal youtube channel but he would be Drowning in sponsorship videos all from high-end designer brands. he’s just casually flexing that PPL in his vlogs. ig feed is a lot of #ootd photos or pics taken with inui. him and inui would be makeup brand ambassadors or faces of brands (ex: like jennie from blackpink represents chanel). in this case kokonoi would be the face of fendi (he wears fendi slides in the manga cover) and inui would be the face of jimmy choo (his heels in the manga cover looked like jimmy choo but i could be wrong.. but u know what i mean) 

tenjiku  izana- pretty leader has a very artsy ig feed. extremely photogenic like inui. has photoshoot photos and candid pose photos. acts in dramas time to time (gg second male lead syndrome).  kakucho- posts gym or dance practice videos on his feed but he posts rarely because he’s just too busy or forgets he actually has an ig. loves commenting on takemichi’s posts “haha no wonder ur called baka-michi!” as a joke.  kanji- posts gym photos but it’s rare because he always forgets his password.  ran- the other visual. he would be modeling for high-fashion brands and go on runway shows. also definitely gives off actor vibes (he would be constantly casted in dark action movies hahaha). loves giving fan service.  rindou- in contrast to his brother, rindou when it comes to fan service, he loves trolling fans. also he’s really good at drawing a line between fans (y’know, keeping the delusional ones in check...which means he ‘friend-zones’ them but it’s for their own good tbh idols need to remind people their boundaries). has a youtube channel where he just posts random dance practice vids and occasional vlogs. also comments under his brothers ig posts “you look stupid af in this wtf”. on variety shows people find their brotherly banter hilarious.  mutou- posts gym photos, also really awkward selfies (he doesn’t know what his angle is lmao). another member who also reminds fans of their boundaries and keeps it real. (sanzu always likes his photos though and hypes him up in the comments).  sanzu- shy baby. constantly following mutou around. posts a lot of cute selfies and random pics of shogi stuff (he tags mutou in it of course). during fan signing/autograph sessions they love putting cute headband props on him like this or this. 

bonten because this group’s concept and aesthetic is mysterious, mature, artsy, gloomy, and dark they will take this concept to the grave. (minus a few exceptions) they are invited to variety/talk-shows but never make an appearance because they want to keep the air of mystery around them. (it’s a good marketing technique).  mikey- does not have any social media. he does have a private account to lurk around but no one knows what it is.  kokonoi- has a youtube channel but it’s locked and you have to pay to get into it. posts super short vlogs and teasers. thats it. (the ultimate scam! but their fans love them too much to notice). lots of sponsored #ootd posts on ig.  kakucho- he would be modeling ONLY high fashion brands and high end editorial places. his instagram is just his exquisite and expensive modeling photos whether it be candid backstage photos from shows, candid runway walk pics/vids, pics of diff photoshoots you name it. doesn’t really comment much.  ran- visual. similar to kakucho- modeling ONLY high fashion brands and editorial places. instagram is filled with modeling photos but also some artsy scenery pics he took.  rindou- posts short artsy dancing clips (like modern dances in black&white filter) on ig.  sanzu- since he’s the other visual, he also posts a lot of his modeling/acting photos on instagram. also pretty chatty (he’s the exception) on social media and loves teasing and trolling fans. posts with a lot of random cute emojis on everything. “just ate lunch and now im off to practice hehe 🍜🍇🤟💃🤠🧚‍♂️💞🦋” no one really knows why he uses random emojis but it’s just endearing lmao.  kanji- no social media at all.  akashi- manager....or if you made him the rapper in this au then he too would also not have any social media. 

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Hibiscus Kisses {6}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Angst, Blood, Lots Of Words, Death

Words: 8.3k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***VERY Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Interactive**

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} | {4} | {5} |

You must have stood at the back of the yacht for a while because the shore and the docks were barely visible at this point. Every minute that ticked by you weighed your options of just diving in and swimming back. Everything you came up with seemed fine to deal with. So what if your hair got wet and you had to go through your four-hour wash and treat routine. So what if you attracted a shark or two, you could swim. So what if everything in your bag got drenched, you could replace them.

 With the number of rebuttals you came up with, you should have jumped in already. The major con that was flashing in your head in neon lettering was you are an adult and not a child who ran away from difficult situations. The sound of laughter had you turning around to see Chris laughing with Harper. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Scoffing, you turned back around and crossed your arms.

 Almost a minute later you felt Chris standing beside you. “If you want to swim back I’m sure you could make it.”

 If looks could kill, the one you gave him should have done it. All you had to do was push him overboard to a watery grave. Chris lifted his hands to show his no threat status and that was when you walked away.

 “All right folks. It’ll be another forty minutes before we arrive at the best fishing spot in all of the islands. It’s my little secret. In the meantime, you have a choice of activities. You can go down below and marine watch, stay on deck and do some pictures and sights, or go into the bubble where you are surrounded by the ocean. It is optimal for fish watching. I’ll let you folks know when we’ve arrived.”

You nodded and walked toward the steps that would lead below deck. You fully intended to get as far away from him as possible. Ignoring the way he turned to you as if he had something to say, you carefully went down the steps and to the back of the yacht. There you found what Harper was referring to. It looked like an actual bubble with two seats. Once you sat down you saw why this was mentioned as the most sought-after experience. You really felt like you were alone under the ocean and not apart from it but one with it.

You watched a school of yellow and black striped fish swim by and a small box popped up to the right of the screen with a still photo of the fish and a few listed facts.

 “Moorish Idol fish. These fish commonly inhabit tropical to subtropical reefs and lagoons. These fish usually travel alone or in small schools. These fish mate for life and adult males show aggression to one another.”

 Your jaw dropped. You hadn’t expected it to be high-tech. In front of you, you grabbed the flipbook and flicked through it to see a variety of sea creatures. The announcement of another fish brought your attention back to the ocean before you and that is where your eyes remained. Creature after creature swam by and up to the glass. Each one was announced and described. As they came up, you took pictures of the pretty ones you liked ready to show them to your family when you returned home.

 You were so wrapped up in fish watching that you didn’t notice that you weren’t alone until it was too late. Chris slipped into the seat beside you, startling you. Your harsh glare landed on him with the force of fifty blades behind it. He wasn’t looking at you though, his eyes were glued to the water and passing reef life.

 “Oh wow, Nemo and Dory,” Chris exclaimed inching closer to the glass.

 That was all it took for your attention to go right back, and lo and behold there were Dory and Nemo lookalikes.

 “Wow.”

 Mirroring Chris’s actions you slid to the edge of the seat as well and touched the glass. They were pretty in animation but that had nothing on real life. The orange and blue were so striking up close.

 “They’re even best friends in real life,” Chris quietly said.

 For the next few minutes neither of you spoke again you were too wrapped up in looking at all the fish that passed by one after the other. When you’d reached a part of the ocean where life was scarce, you sat back and crossed your arms.

 “Can I please explain?”

 You sighed and dropped your head back to rest on the hard headrest, keeping your eyes trained in front of you.

 “I promise I’m not this asshole you have me pegged as in your head.”

 “So you don’t go around trying to charm women out of your panties and in your bed for notches on your bedpost?”

 “God no!”

 You rolled your eyes not believing one word.

 “I solemnly swear that I am up to nothing but good,” Chris replied holding up three fingers.

A smirk teased your lips at the Harry Potter line he’d just repurposed for his own use mixed with the Hunger Games salute. You shook your head unable to ignore how adorkably stupid he was.

 “You know those two have nothing to do with the other, right?”

 Chris slyly smiled and shrugged. “It’s sorta my thing. Sleeping around and I have nothing to do with each other also.”

 You snorted and shook your head. He was smooth.

 “You’re real smooth, I’ll give you that.”

 He sighed and turned his body more to you. “It’s a misunderstanding,” Chris began.

 “Let me stop you there. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time anyone starts off with that, chances are there was no misunderstanding,” you dryly informed.

 “That high? Okay, then I fall in the point one percent.”

 You glared at him again but he didn’t back down, he held your glare but behind his eyes, you saw nothing but sincerity rather than the hostility you had spearing behind yours. When you didn’t object, he opened his mouth to speak again but you looked away.

 “There’s no need.”

 “Why won’t you let me explain?”

 You knew why. If he explained and the explanation seemed plausible and he looked sincere the chances of you believing it would be eighty percent and that was high. You would then continue spending time with him because you did enjoy his company and conversation and eventually sleep with him. Maybe. Letting him explain was step one that would lead to a series of missteps. Then you’d find yourself in a situation come the end of the cruise when both of you went your separate ways. There were too many what-ifs in the air.

 “Ah, I think I know. If you let me explain then this image you have of me being a womanizer who is after fast and quick ass, who would come on a cruise to chase women for a notch would be debunked. If it is debunked, then you’d have to admit that you liked spending time with me and enjoyed yourself. Then you’d have to admit that what might have happened if my phone didn’t ring wouldn’t have been a one-off. You’d have to face the possibility that there might be something here past our physical attraction.”

 Well damn, you thought. For a moment your thoughts betrayed the steely animosity in your eyes and you knew your shock shone through. You quickly looked away from him and tapped into your inner Elsa while watching a school of white fish pass by. You could feel him beside you staring at you as if trying to crack your resolve. You fought against him and kept your breathing slow and steady.

 “You don’t have to tell me I’m right. I know I am and it’s not because I’m a cocky prick. It’s because—,” Chris paused then sighed heavily before he continued. “I liked spending time—with you. Like really liked it and this was before anything physical happened. You’re funny and fun and not phased by this thing called fame that is wrapped around me. You probably don’t understand it, but that’s something refreshing and attractive to me.”

 Unable to resist any longer, you sneakily glanced at him while wondering if any part of what he’d just said was possibly true.  

 “Before I came on this cruise to get away from my life—run away from my life.”

 Your interest piqued. Why was he running away? Didn’t he have everything?

 “My friend, the one you heard on the phone was teasing me about the reason. I didn’t want to give him the real deal so I kept quiet which led him to the conclusion that it had something to do with a woman. It didn’t but he thought it. So the phone call was him stating his opinions again, his way of life. Now I’m not condoning what he said at all but that’s his life. I didn’t come here for any of that and that night wasn’t about that for me.”

 “What was it about?”

 You blurted the question without a thought and once you’d asked, you regretted it. The answer wouldn’t do you any good.

 Sighing, you looked back out to the water. “Don’t answer that.”

 And he didn’t. The silence stretched and your thoughts did as well. You contemplated his explanation and the probability of any of it being true. He had all the reason to lie right now, but the more you thought about it the more you guessed he didn’t need to lie being who he was. He could have just shrugged and put you on the side that wasn’t a fan of his and kept it moving.

 “Look,” Chris said shoving his phone to you with the text exchange between him and someone named Austin was visible.

 “I know what it is to be distrustful of strangers or everyone really and proof means a lot to me. Since the burden of proof is on my side, here it is.”

 You read through the exchange from a little over a week ago and sure enough, his friend Austin was scum. The irrefutable proof showed those sentiments were his and even showed Chris admonishing him for those sentiments and setting him straight. The banter that continued was Austin teasing him about his good boy behaviors. From the texts, you could tell they were close, and you could also tell that Austin was the asshole between them and Chris was possibly a good guy.

 Groaning, you looked away and dropped your head back to the headrest again. You did not need this. Sighing, you closed your eyes and listened to the silence. Several minutes passed by where neither of you spoke and just when you were going to Harper’s voice came in over the ship’s intercoms.

 “We have some dolphin action up here if anyone’s interested.”

 “Dolphins!”

 Your head snapped to Chris hearing the uncharacteristically excited squeal. Did he really just turn into a Powerpuff girl? Chris leapt to his feet and began walking toward the steps leaving you there to wonder just what kind of man he was.

 A few moments later, you emerged from below and walked to the railing to see a dolphin jump out of the water in the distance.

“Oh my god!”

 At that moment you felt your smallness in the world. There were so many other creatures that were bigger and yet humans always thought themselves so superior. It was baffling.

 “It’s not always like this, they must be here to greet you folks,” Harper said as another jumped out and one swam up.

 You dropped down to your knees and peered over the railing and marveled at the aquatic beauty.

 “They’re so friendly.”

 Just then, a dolphin popped up showing its long bottlenose and black eyes and in the same breath, a stream of water came at you drenching you. In your shock, you just sat there while Chris and Harper heartily got their laugh in at your expense. To add insult to injury the dolphin even sounded like it was laughing. Who could be mad though? It was too cute. You looked across the way and saw Chris snapping pictures of you with a wide smile on his face. Being alarmed, snapping at him, or even telling him to delete the pictures would have all been acceptable reactions but you didn’t react in any of those ways. Instead, you brought your attention back to the dolphins in the water. Let him take his pictures, you thought.

 Twenty minutes later you were sitting at the side of the boat with your legs dangling over the edge enjoying the breeze, sun, and tranquility being on the ocean brought. There was something so serene about being in the middle of a giant body of water with creatures of plenty underneath its depths while there was nothing in sight for miles and miles. It was peaceful. The pictures you took of the horizon, the sky, and the water were breathtaking. You knew they’d make great printouts to add to your walls when you returned home. When you realized your battery was running low, you dug into your bag for one of your four fully charged portable chargers and slipped your phone into one of the many waterproof pouches you had your belongings secured inside.

 Your sister liked to make fun of you for how well you prepared for things. When you went out for every day, your purse contained every possible thing you would and could need for the day. You didn’t like being unprepared for whatever you came across and that included something as minor as rain all the way to the major things like abductions. You’d been the butt of many jokes but you didn’t care.

 Glancing to the other side of the yacht, you watched as Chris followed the instruction of Harper as he practiced a variety of sailor’s knots. It didn’t look like he was a novice though. You could tell he’d done it a few times before. Sooner than you could look away, Harper caught you then motioned you over. It would have been rude to ignore him, so you walked over to them and sat before them.

 “Here, try your hand at sailor’s knots,” Chris suggested holding out a length of rope to you.

 “It’s not as easy as it looks,” he followed up as you took it.

 “You look like you’ve done it before.”

 “Once or twice,” he replied.

 You studied the knots surrounding Chris for a few moments then took a stab at it. From the beginning you messed it up but didn’t quit, instead, you undid it and tried again. You didn’t quit easy. That was probably why you were in your current relationship predicament. A few minutes and several failed attempts later, you held up the finished product that looked identical to Chris’s.

 “So you have one of those brains where you can see something and replicate it?”

 You scoffed and shrugged. “Kind of. I just pick some things up quickly.”

 Chris nodded and held out another length of rope and pointed to a different pattern. “Try this one.”

 You knew it was a test. You grabbed the rope and studied the new pattern that was a lot more intricate than the first. Though it was more intricate it took you a shorter amount of time to start. When you held it up for them to see, less time had passed and you hadn’t made one mistake.

 “Wow,” Harper exclaimed before he chuckled.

 “What can I say, I’m pretty amazing,” you joked.

 Both men laughed but didn’t debate the fact.

 “We’re coming up on the cove that gives me the best fish. Of course, we’re catching and releasing, but it won’t dampen the experience,” Harper informed.

 Within a few short minutes, Harper had pulled up to one of the most beautiful coves you’d ever seen. The water was aquamarine crystal blue. It was so crystal like you could see several feet into it. The giant rocks that created a maze had moss growing off the tops of them that were lush green and created a nice contrast of colors. If you could have picked up this view and brought it home with you, you would have. It was that breathtaking.  

 You weren’t the only one thinking it, Chris was a few feet away snapping every picture he could get, only he didn’t look like a tourist. He looked like a professional travel photographer. When he dropped to one of his knees to get a different angle you just leaned against the railing and watched. The sun beaming down on him gave his hair a reddish hue which looked good on him. It even accentuated the freckles peppered along his arms. You remembered what was under that shirt of his at that second. You remembered the muscles, the hair, and the tats. It was an unexpected sight but one that you wouldn’t mind seeing again. Instantly you kissed your teeth and slapped your forehead.

 “Cut it out.”

 “Did you say something?”

 Chris was looking at you with a quizzical expression with his camera still posed up.

 “Nope, nothing.”

 He didn’t look like he believed you, but slowly he went back to snapping his pictures while you tried to create even more distance between you.

 “Get a grip, Ajali. It hasn’t been that long. You’re not affection starved either. Get—a—grip.”

 You took a few slow breathes and focused on the scene before you. You now understood why many people said this island was a top destination for vacations.

 “And we’re ready. You both said you’ve fished before, right?”

 You walked toward Harper’s voice then saw he had fishing rods, buckets, gloves, and all the other supplies lying at his feet.

 “I’ve done some fishing,” Chris offered before both sets of eyes landed on you.

 “Never.”

 “It’s not hard, I promise,” Harper assured bending for the rods. He held one out to Chris and the other to you.

 “Thank you.”

 “I’ll explain everything and its function. If either of you have any questions let me know.”

 Harper walked a few feet away leading the two of you to a shaded portion of the yacht. Once there, he explained everything in detail. He showed the parts of the rod, showed how to put things together, explained their function, and then went on to the different kinds of bait that were available. When he began demonstrating how to hold the rod and posture you paid close attention and imitated what he did. You knew though this was something that would take some getting used to.

 After twenty minutes, the three of you were in your spots ready to cast your rods. You watched Harper cast his first and it looked so fluid. You could tell he’d done this thousand of times. Then you watched Chris and though his movements weren’t as fluid, it looked like he was far from a beginner. You sighed and tried your best. The rod was heavy in your hands and affected your ability to control it and cast it perfectly. Glancing at Harper, he shrugged.

 “Good enough. You got it where it needs to go.”

 A soft chuckle escaped both you and Chris.

 “What kind of catch do you get out here?”

 Harper proceeded to explain the different kinds of fish he’d caught to Chris while you partially zoned them out. It didn’t take long for you to understand why people liked fishing. It was calming. You could leisurely do it while letting your mind drift and worries float away. Thirty minutes later it was your line that tugged first. You yelped then squeaked as you panicked.

 “What do I do?”

 “Reel it in,” Harper said.

 The resistance on the line was giving you a good arm workout. The struggle went back and forth. You doubted this was a baby.

 “This thing is strong.”

 “You got it, put your back into it like Ice Cube,” Chris teased making you narrow your eyes at him. That only made him laugh loudly.

 A few more moments of struggle persisted until you’d yanked the rod backward tucking it out of the water, over your head, and flopping the fish right on the deck.

 “Aaaah, oh my god! I caught a fish!”

 You jumped up and down excited by your success. Forgetting any prior slights you jumped closer to Chris and bumped shoulders with him.

 “I did it!”

 “You did.”

 “Good job. This here is a Barracuda,” Harper announced.

 “Ooooh Barracuda,” you and Chris said in unison like the song. The two of you giggled together before returning your attention to Harper.

 “It’s not an adult, but it’s no baby either. You want a picture?”

 “Yes!”

 You scurried to your bag and pulled out your phone then handed it to Chris before you dropped down to your knees and bent to the fish still flopping on the deck and smiled as you’d just won the lotto. Chris laughed and took the picture a few moments later. After the first few shots, you changed poses and let him take a few more. You watched as Chris’s face went from wide smiles to solemn confusion. Just as you were going to ask if your battery died, Harper spoke.

 “Do you want to do the honors of releasing it?”

 “You mean touch it?”

 Harper nodded and you ardently shook your head. “No thank you. I hear Barracudas like to bite.”

 Harper laughed at you as he effortlessly grabbed the fish by its tail then chucked it back into the ocean.

 “It was just an adolescent.”

 Chris held your phone out then walked back to his rod without a word. Slight confusion washed over you as you glanced at your screen to see one of the pictures he’d just taken, but your battery was fully charged.

 For the next few hours Chris barely spoke to you, but when you glanced over to him, his eyes were always on you before he looked away once yours met his. It was a complete turnaround from before. It shouldn’t have bothered or affect you at all considering the reality of things, but it did bother you a little bit. Once the three of you had had your fill of catch and release the sun was beginning to disappear. Harper caught a huge Mahi Mahi, scaled and fillet it right in front of you, and Chris showing off his impressive knife skills. He then took the fish to prepare what he promised would be the best open ocean fish you’d ever had. You were excited to see the finished product.

 Once Harper had disappeared down below you walked to the cooler, took out two beers, and walked over to Chris. He was sitting toward the back of the yacht watching the rocks in silence. You sat beside him, held out the beer, and waited for him to accept it. When he took it, he wasted no time twisting off the top and taking a mouthful. You sat there in silence looking over the view.

“Who knew a celebrity could fish.”

 “I’m not a celebrity all day every day. I have hobbies and free time.”

 “I take it fishing is a hobby?”

 “When I can get to it. Sometimes I can’t go off the grid to do it.”

 You nodded and tried to picture him at a lake with a rod and bucket of bait catching fish. A soft smile spread across your face before you gulped your beer.

 “What’s one of your hobbies?”

 Taking a deep breath you slowly released it. “Painting.”

 “You’re artistic?”

 “Depends what you call artistic. I can slap some paint on a canvas and call it a day.”

 Chris looked at you for a few moments. “Somehow I find it hard to believe it’s as lowkey as you’re describing. I bet you’re a modern-day Frida Kahlo.”

 You smiled and shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

 Silence spread between you again and the two of you sipped from your bottles. It was a semi-comfortable silence.

 “Are you departing tomorrow or staying on?”

 You wanted to ask why he wanted to know but decided against it. “Staying on.”

 Chris nodded. “Me too.”

 Neither of you spoke again, instead, you watched the sky as the sun slowly began its descent behind the water. When Harper returned, the air filled with such a delicious scent that your belly grumbled loudly.

 “And dinner is served. Harper placed the platter down on the table and you and Chris walked over to it. Your jaw dropped in amazement.

 “What kind of kitchen do you have down there that can produce that?”

 “I’ve had tons of practice.”

 The Mahi Mahi that was alive less than two hours ago was now cooked to perfection and decorated with papaya, and a green salad.

 “Wow, this looks mouthwatering,” Chris complimented.

 “It’s nothing fancy, just some fish with a papaya and seaweed salad.”

 “Seaweed salad? Oh wow. You utilize everything huh.”

 “Absolutely. I can tell you more about using everything you can to not only survive but make good food,” Harper said motioning you both to sit down.

 “No one is serving you here, help yourselves there’s plenty.”

 The three of you dug in taking portions of fish and salad. When you took a bite of the Mahi Mahi your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Oh my god. This is so good.”

 “All it needed was some salt, pepper, and lemon. Sometimes keeping it simple is the best way.”

 Chris moaned and nodded in agreement with you. “Delicious.”

 As the three of you ate, Harper told you all about his travels and time living on his own on the ocean and how he’d learned to survive on little to nothing. It was so interesting to hear his story. From it, you gathered he was determined, creative, meticulous, and persevering. He didn’t let anything stop him and because of that mindset, he said he’d seen a lot of wonderful things and had a beautiful life. Listening to him speak about his loves and losses and how it was just him in the end you couldn’t help but think about your relationships.

 When he began listing off the life lessons he’d learned you made note of each and every one of them. You always thought the stories of the older generations were interesting. While most of their experiences were relatable, a lot of it wasn’t because of the difference in eras. In Harper’s era being a bachelor past twenty-two was seen as taboo, yet that was the life he lived. When he spoke of when he did get married, it was to the one woman he’d loved since he was twenty years old. The woman he’d been stupid about and missed out on two times. From the way he spoke about her, you knew she was his soul mate.

 Glancing to Chris who was sitting diagonally from you, part of you wondered how relatable Harper’s experiences were to him. You thought back to the very few tabloid and gossip stories you’d read about him but nothing jumped out to you. The tabloids didn’t focus on one woman that he was possibly seeing, they didn’t highlight any crazy behaviors with any of them or even highlight breakups. That was part of how you’d pieced him together. The lack of information left for such a wide breadth of possibilities to put together.

 “Take it from me young ones, when you’re walking down a dimly lit street of soft lights, and you happen to find that anomaly among the sea that shines a different light and makes everything else pale in comparison you do whatever it takes to hold on to that. You fight for it and don’t let anything or anyone make you miss out on it. None of us are here for a long time. One day I’ll join my Angie and we’ll be together again. I welcome that day, until then I’ll keep drifting.”

 The three of you sat there in silence, each of you lost in your thoughts and worries. Was Javii that anomaly or was he part of the sea and you’d been mistaken this whole time? When Harper returned to the helm to captain you back toward land you were secluded from the rest of them and still lost in your thoughts. It had been days since you left and you’d figured out nothing. If anything, you’d added more to your plate to think about. This was what you hadn’t wanted to do and that was the reason you chose this option rather than staying in the city.

 You began to wonder again about the person who would be that anomaly that Harper spoke of. Rather than thinking of your experiences with Javii, your irresponsible mind thought of your run-ins with Chris. When you’d seen him in passing before boarding the ship you’d noticed him in the sea of people and amidst every chaotic thing happening around you. Your brain singled him out. It did it again when you saw him in passing topside when you’d met Genevieve and in the lounge club. It was something you hadn’t focused on before but now it was all you could think of.

 “Get a freaking grip, Ajali!”

 You smacked your head and dropped it down hunching over to hug your shins. Suddenly, you felt raindrops and those drops quickly turned into a waterfall.

 “What the--,” you began holding your hands out confused how a downpour like this could just suddenly start.  

 Unexpectedly, the ship lurched hard to the left sending items on the deck toppling over including your beer bottle and the empty ones around it. Thinking quickly, you grabbed the railing to not tumble. Your grip was precarious thanks to the downpour and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on for long. Just as you were losing your grip, that was when the ship lurched again only this time to the right. With no time to grab for the railing, you tumbled over but before you hit the deck arms wrapped around you stabilizing you.

 “I got you.”

 Glancing up, you found Chris with rainwater pouring down his face and beard. He was holding on tightly to one of the metal poles while holding you tightly in his other arm. When the rocking went from deadly to manageable, Chris slowly let you go.

 “Something must be wrong. Let’s go.”

 Both of you took off on the search to find Harper. Every few seconds the rocking of the ship made items fall and roll. Chris was the one to pull you in every which direction to help you avoid the bigger items. When the ship bucked back you both slid back.

 “Aaah, fuck!”

 A sharp slice caught you off guard making you fall to the deck. Before Chris could react the boat rocked again sending you rolling back a few feet. When you slammed into one of the walls you shouted out in pain. Seconds later Chris was bent before you.

 “Are you okay?”

 His eyes quickly scanned your body and found your bleeding foot.

 “Oh god.

 Chris quickly pulled off his tropical printed shirt, ripped it, and began wrapping your foot.

 “I’m sorry I have to do this tight to hopefully slow the bleeding,” Chris informed before he yanked the material, knotting it tightly around your injury. You tried to stifle your groan but it didn’t work. Your shout echoed across the open water and carried it competing with the downpour from the sky.

 “I’m sorry. Ready to keep going? We’re almost there.”

 You nodded and let Chris help you up. With his arm around your waist and yours draped over his shoulder the two of you hurried to the small enclosure where Harper was steering the boat. Every so often thanks to the falling and rolling items you and Chris looked like circus performers, jumping, dodging, and sliding out of harm's way. The way Chris managed to go into protector and alpha mode had you seeing a new side to him. Women did love a man who could take charge.

 When you finally made it you found Harper passed out on the floor.

 “Oh my god!”

 Chris placed you along one of the windows so you could lean against it before he dropped down to his knees to check for a pulse. The longer it took him to turn to you, the more anxious you became.

 “He has a pulse, but it’s thready. Looks like he may have hit his head,” Chris informed before he ripped the while men’s tank he wore at the hem and pressed it to Harper’s forehead.

 On impact, Harper groaned then bolted up.

 “Hey, take it easy,” Chris shouted trying to compete with the loudness of the ocean and the rain.

 “No. Storm. We’re in a storm. We call these pop-ups. They happen all the time,” Harper explained as Chris helped him to his feet.

 “If you knew it was coming--,” you began.

 “I didn’t. No one can predict these and they’re increasingly more dangerous.”

 The yacht whipped as if it were a leash sending all three of you knocking into whatever was closest. Immediately the pain that whisked through you had you screaming. That was the first time you thought you were going to die. All you could feel was pain, all you could hear was the sound of your heart beating. You slowly opened your eyes but couldn’t make anything out through the haziness. You couldn’t pinpoint where the pain in your body was coming from, it felt like it was everywhere.

 “Ajali!”

 Snapping your eyes open you saw Chris’s drenched and concerned face before you. “Open your eyes. Stay with me!”

 It was a forceful command. One that you slowly obeyed. He helped you to a sitting position then turned back to Harper who was trying to stand to look over the built-in equipment of the ship.

 “We’re way off course here. Somehow this storm has put us way off route. It makes no sense.”

 “What does that mean?!”

 “It means we’re drifting and not towards the islands. We’re drifting away.”

 “What!”

 Harper tried to turn the key for the engine but it stalled then sputtered. He tried it again and again but the result was the same.

 “This is bad,” Harper added.

 “What do we do?”

 The ship rocked again but this tilt was so drastically different. It actually went so far on its side that it felt like you were going to capsize.

 “We’re gonna tip over!”

 Chris ran from the small room fighting against gravity’s pull to yank him over. Your first thought was he was leaving you.

 “Hang on tight!”

 Your scream was so loud you doubt you’d ever gone that high before. Terror gripped your heart and your entire life flashed before your eyes. You were certain you were done for. There was no way to make it out of this. You began mumbling but you didn’t know if what you said made any sense. A few seconds later, the ship dropped back into the water allowing you to remain top side up. You felt hands on your body and you opened your eyes to Chris shoving your arms in a bright orange life vest.

 “I could only find one right now so it’s yours.”

 “What—what about you?”

 “I’ll be fine. Hold on tight.”

 He spun around looking at Harper.

 “I have to get below.”

 Harper hurried out without another word and Chris turned back to you.

 “I’m going to help him. Stay here.”

 He made a move to leave and you grabbed his hand pulling him back to you.

 “Don’t leave me.”

 “I’m not. I’m going below with Harper. I’m sure he’ll need my help. I think it’s safer for you up here.”

 You still held tight to his hand fear controlling your movements. Chris’s expression softened before he took a step close to you to hold you at the side of your neck to the base of your skull.

 “I swear to you I won’t leave you, no matter what. We’re in this together. I will be back and we’ll laugh about this one day. For that day to come though we have to get through this and I have to help him down below. You’ll be safe. Hold on tight, stay low.”

 You nodded and took a few breathes trying to psych yourself up.

 “You got this,” Chris said before he pulled away and walked from you.

 You closed your eyes and said a silent prayer hoping for him to come back and that his words weren’t bullshit.

 The seconds seemed to slowly tick by and the minutes went on for lifetimes. Every jolt of the ship leveled you to a whimpering mess. You did just as Chris has instructed—kept low and held on for dear life. You didn’t care how numb your hand became from gripping the cold metal for so long you kept holding on. You didn’t care how cold you got from not only the ocean water but the rain and the strong wind gusts, you remained in your corner shivering refusing to come out. It didn’t matter how much the pain you felt intensified the colder you got you ignored it and kept whispering your silent prayers. You didn’t want to die. Not like this.

 You heard something like a loud crack then the groaning of metal then the ship once again tilted. You screeched and tried to hold yourself to the railing but the further the boat tilted the harder it was to hold on.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 You screamed again and braced yourself to end up in the water under the boat, but instead of it tipping it once again dropped back onto the water’s surface.

 “Oh my god!”

 “Ajali, can you hear me?”

 You whipped your head around trying to find where the voice was coming from without letting go of the railing. You were too scared.

 “Ajali. Can you hear me!”

 On the dashboard, you saw a red light flashing and guessed it was the radio. The only problem was for you to get to it, you’d have to let go and walk over to it. If the yacht tilted again you’d slid your ass out the room and off the boat. It was a risk.

 “Ajali, pick up. We’re down here trying to fix the engine but we need you to turn her on for us. Can you do that?”

 “Fuck!”

 You slowly stood, fighting against your aching joints, bones, and muscles, and stood upright with most of your weight on your uninjured foot. You assessed the distance from where you were to the dashboard and knew slow and steady was the best way but you doubted you had that time. You took a deep breath and took three hops on your good foot toward the dashboard. When there was just one hop left to take the vessel rocked sending you off balance and smack dab into the glass with your face.

 At this point, there was no part of your body that wasn’t in pain. A metallic irony taste filled your mouth and you knew you were bleeding. You had no idea from where though, your face was completely numb.

 “Ajali!?”

 Using the back of one hand, you wiped across your mouth and took another deep breath, and hopped to the dashboard throwing yourself across it and holding it for dear life. You took a few moments to calm yourself then grabbed the walkie.

 “I’m here.”

 You heard Chris exhale as if he was relieved. “Thank god, I thought something happened.”

 “I’m fine,” you lied while trying to wipe away the blood that dripped across the dashboard.

 “Try to turn the engine on.”

 You twisted the designated key all that happened was a long exaggerated sputter then hiss.

 “This time keep it turned don’t release it,” Chris suggested.

 Doing as you were told, you waited and begged the engine to cooperate. When you heard a yell over the walkie you knew it wasn’t good.

 “Damn it! There’s water in the engine. The only way to even begin to work on it is for it to dry out. That’s gonna be impossible during a storm. It’ll just keep flooding. We’re not moving. Damn it!”

 There was a full range of banging over the walkie that only made you panic more.

 “Can everyone not fall apart right now? Please. I’m terrified enough as it is,” you pleaded.

 “Listen to my voice, it’s okay. We’re coming back up. We just have to weather the storm,” Chris said. His voice sounded like he was panicking but was also trying to showcase calm. You heard both.

 Another loud crack echoed but it wasn’t on your end, it was over the walkie.

 “What was that?”

 The sound rang out again and everything went dead silent over the walkie before a loud crash of something breaking echoed out. At that moment the ship lurched again only this time the groan of metal was so loud it made you shake from fear. Garbled speech went in and out over the walkie alarming you.

 “He—hello?”

 The only response you got was the walkie dying.

 “Hello? Hello?” You pressed buttons and turned switches not knowing what any of them did but hoping one of them brought communication back.  Nothing helped though.

 “Chris! Hello? Chris! Answer me goddamn it!”

 You threw the corded walkie and dropped your head down and wailed. There was no hope at all you thought.

 “I���m gonna die.”

 You cried, finally letting out the angst and terror you were feeling. There was nothing positive about your current situation. You were in the middle of the ocean, practically alone while a storm was raging around you. people went missing like this, people died like this. You were suddenly so tired. A wave of water brushed against your feet but you didn’t think anything of it. You almost couldn’t lift your head.

 “Ajali!”

 As you lifted your head you saw Chris racing toward you.

 “We have to get off this ship.”

 “What!”

 “The glass broke. We’re taking in water and sinking—fast!”

 Hearing those words you found the energy to rise. “What do we do? Where’s Harper?”

 “He’s lowering the life raft. Let’s go.”

 Chris wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you along. When you made it down the steps to the deck you saw that it was completely filled with water.

 “Oh my god.”

 “It’s all right, I have you.”

 He must have gotten tired of your hobbling because he scooped you up and hurried along treading through the now calf-level water.

 “You’re freezing cold,” Chris mumbled.

 “What are we gonna do?”

 Chris reached Harper who looked as if he’d been through hell. From one glance you could tell he was hurt.

 “Climb down first,” Harper said to you as Chris put you down.

 You flinched as the saltwater wreaked devastation on your injured foot.

 “I’m scared.”

 “I know. it’s expected, you’re human. I need you to work through that fear though and climb down into the raft,” Chris reasoned.

 You nodded and tried to get over not only the terror but also will your muscles to move through them being near frozen. You tried to move your legs in some coordination to climb over the railing but it was taking a bit of time on your own. Chris stepped closer and helped you to take the first step down the ladder. When your injured foot joined your other one it slipped and sent you down a few of them only stopping when you were able to get a grip on the metal.

 “Are you okay?”

 “I’m okay.”

 You slowly went down the remaining steps until you got to the last one and saw you’d need to jump off the railing to land in the raft. You took a few breathes, hoped that you made it in the raft and not in the ocean, and jumped. Landing on your back you couldn’t relax. It hit you that you were now in a life raft about to drift to god knows where. From above you heard the two men arguing back and forth over who should go next. When you saw Chris was the one climbing down the ladder you knew Harper had won.

 It didn’t take him nearly as long as it took you. A few seconds later he’d jumped in next to you. The strong scent of gas immediately hit you.

 “You smell like gas.”

 Chris smelled himself then his eyes widened and pointed back to the ship. The two of you looked up just in time to see Harper bringing back up the ladder.

 “What’re you doing? Come down!”

 “No can do brother. This here is my ship and a captain always goes down with his ship.”

 Your eyes widened in horror. He couldn’t be serious.

 “That’s not funny Harper. The gas is leaking, there is no saving it. It isn’t worth your life. Come on, there’s time for you to save yourself too,” Chris rebutted.

 “I’m long past saving,” Harper said lifting his shirt to show the large shard of glass that was sticking through his abdomen. It looked like it had gone right through him. You knew that if it were removed the chances of him living were zilch.

 “Oh my god,” you mewled before clamping your hand over your mouth to stifle the wail that followed.

 “Harper--,” Chris began but never finished.

 “I always knew I’d die on this ship and that’s all right. I’m at peace with it. If I get in that raft with you I’d be doing you a disservice. Sharks would be on your tail in no time.”

 Harper flung a pack over the railing into the raft.

 “I’ve already pre-packed all the emergency packs in the raft. They’re in the side compartments as well as underneath the zipped platform of the bottom. These are things you’ll need wherever you wash up.”

 Another bag followed the first and landed on the raft. “This one is some rations. Remember to conserve the water. You can survive without food longer than water.”

 You cried louder while using your hand to muffle as much of the sound as you could.

 “Come on man,” Chris pleaded.

 Four more bags followed including your backpack. By then you’d fully lost it and had ventured into a nervous breakdown.

 “Inside the raft, there is a transponder. I am going to set off the homing beacon on my ship it’ll give search and rescue some idea of where things went wrong. They’ll be able to follow the signal and rescue you no matter where you are.”

 Harper bent forward and groaned. He must have been in so much pain you thought to yourself. On its own, your hand gripped the ripped hem of Chris’s tank and held it tightly. Chris glanced back at you and you saw the same anguish you felt.

 “I’m sorry about this folks, I really am.” He paused and shook his head before he continued. “You have each other though.”

 An explosion shook the vessel and lit up the sky behind Harper.

“That’s my cue. Get outta here. I’ll do my part. Remember live your way, it makes death a peaceful conclusion.”

 With that Harper hobbled away holding the railing.

 “Go!”

 He disappeared from view leaving the two of you sitting in the raft, in the pouring rain heartbroken and terrified. Another explosion erupted and Chris sprang into motion yanking the cord that controlled the motor startup. He yanked it once, then twice until it sparked alive on the third try. You both looked to the ship unsure what to do. The decision had been made for you, there was nothing either of you could do but go.

 Slowly the raft began to drift away from the sinking ship and neither of you could peel your eyes away. Two more explosions boomed and then Harper’s voice echoed out.

 “I’m coming, Angie!”

 “Oh my god,” you whispered dropping your head to the surface of the raft. Your cry was loud and showcased the tragic sadness before you.

 You watched on before another and final grand explosion ripped the ship apart sending parts every which way.

“Fuck!”

 Chris leapt for you throwing his body over yours using himself as a shield to protect you. The sound of flying metal around you only made you scream more and more. Still, Chris didn’t come off of you, he kept his body over yours while maneuvering the rod steering of the raft. After the sound of flying metal subsided and the warmth of fire died down Chris rolled off of you. There was nothing to be seen except the fire from the explosion that was quickly being extinguished as the rest of the ship sank to the depths of the ocean.

 “Oh my god, Harper.”

 “God,” Chris groaned out, dropping his head down. “Rest in peace.”

 There it was. Death. It was staring you right in the face and you feared it hadn’t had its fill quite yet. Your sobs returned and soon they were the only sounds traveling across the water, along with the motor. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes as you both tried to digest everything that had just happened and how everything had gone so wrong.

 “What’re we going to do?”

 It was a question asked just above a whisper. A question that held so much uncertainty, a question that also brought so much fear with it. What were you going to do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[dizzydancingdreamer]

Persephone’s Symphony | Prologue | Hades

Hey lovelies— this will either be a long fic or a short series, depending on how it best plays out. I decided to upload a sneak peak— let me know what y’all think and do enjoy!!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: Mentions of death, at times semi-graphic, eventual smut

Word count: 2.5k (and counting)

Next

Master List

“Barnes, you’re on protection detail.”

He must be dreaming— he must have fallen asleep with the tv on again. That’s been happening a lot lately; he’s trying to catch up on normal life. On all the shows and movies and music he’s missed throughout the years. He’s trying to catch up. Or maybe he’s just trying to drown out the silence. It doesn’t matter why, to be honest, all that matters is that he is asleep and what he is hearing and seeing are the workings of a bad dream. There was a marathon last night. Yeah, there was. Movies— a few of them. Something about bodyguards. He’s just dreaming about the movies.

Right?

Wrong.

“You’re to make sure she is secured at all times during the next three days— do not leave Miss Y/l/n’s side under any circumstances. Understood?”

Bucky blinks twice, his brows creasing as he stares down his commander, a stubby, burly man with beady eyes. It’s a trial run— he can’t say no. He wants to, he just can’t afford to. Not if he wants a job. Still, he sees no reason for this to be on him. He’s a soldier— a good one. A dangerous one. Watching over little girls isn’t in his job description. He’s a fighter— a monster.

“I need an affirmative, Barnes.”

He bites back a scowl. He’s not trying to get demoted, he knows he’s on thin ice. But, like, isn’t there anyone else? Hell— Wilson is right next to him! Surely he’s better. He’s charming, at least. A flirt. He would be perfect! Wilson would keep her safe. So would he— maybe. Definitely from the threat. From himself, though— well, three days is a long time to avoid sleeping. Even for him.

“Barnes!”

Damnit.

“Understood, sir.”

Wilson’s amused chuckles sound from beside him, his hand landing like a ton of bricks on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky contemplates the repercussions of punching the smug bastard in the middle of a briefing. It can’t be more than a pay dock. He isn’t making that much anyway, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. It would be worth it to wipe that grin off his face. But, no, he can’t. He’ll have to do it later.

“Someone’s on babysitting duty.” Wilson snickers, pressing his fist to his mouth to hide his goading from the commander. “Remember Barnes; no candy after seven.”

“Shut up, Wilson.” He grunts back, just barely stopping his metal arm from flying out and smacking him— from squashing him like the bug he is.

“Think she has a bedtime?”

“Think you could shut up?”

Wilson flexes his fingers, holding them up slightly. Just enough as to not get caught ignoring the briefing but also enough to make sure Bucky notices. “Woah—” he says under his breath, that stupid smirk still heavy in his tone— “someone’s touchy today.”

“It’s a bad decision and you know it.” He says it simply— gruffly— it is the truth after all. He’s dangerous.

Wilson’s face softens, the glee filtering from his tone. “You’ll be fine, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t answer, he just clenches his jaw. He doesn’t want to have another conversation about this. You’re a good person. You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your fault. It might not be his fault but he still did it. He still feels it. That makes him bad— if not morally than at least physically. He’s a liability.

“Y/n Y/l/n—” Bucky focuses back on the commander; he may as well learn what he needs to do— “the twenty-five year old heir to the biggest communications technology manufacturing companies in the world. They do dealings with a range of chief institutions including our own White House—”

If Bucky’s teeth weren’t pressed together hard enough to make him wonder if they’re going to disintegrate, then his jaw would be on the floor right now. She’s the what? Did he just say twenty-five? He can’t even remember what he was doing at twenty-five— whatever he was doing it certainly wasn’t that. Granted, he probably doesn’t really want to remember what he was doing. Soldier things. Dangerous things. He shakes his head, huffing out a breath of air.

“Her immediate family have all turned up dead within the last six months—”

Bucky flinches— this time his jaw does drop.

“Holy shit.” Wilson mutters from next to him— Bucky can only nod. No more jokes about babysitting then.

Some pictures appear on the screen behind the commander, each one more gruesome than the last. It is nothing overtly sinister— nothing he hasn’t seen before— nothing worse than anything he’s seen before. Or worse than what he, himself, has done. He shivers, staring at the photos. Two men and a woman, each with a scarlet circle blown through their foreheads. What the fuck.

“Other executives have been found dead as well—” more pictures, more bullet holes— “She is the last one. We don’t know who or why— our mission is to find out, execute, and above all keep Miss Y/l/n alive—”

The pictures change, finally showing the woman who is to be in the soldier’s care, and his heart stops. Not for any normal reason, though— not because of how obscenely beautiful she is or because of the way her eyes pierce through the junky projector as though she were actually in the room with him. Not because of how soft she looks or how he can see the pink sheen of her lip gloss or the way those glossy lips are curved into an open mouth smile— like the picture had been taken mid laugh. No. His heart stops because of how god damn fragile she looks.

In the picture she seems to be at a University with some friends of hers. They’re backed against a brick facade, shoulder to shoulder like some sort of preppy mugshot. It’s probably supposed to be comical— Wilson lets out a hmph next to him, clearly seeing it as well— but Bucky can’t find it in himself to laugh. Not given the circumstances. Regardless though the picture gives him the information he needs to know; that she is a head shorter than the males in the picture. That seems normal— a head isn’t much in the scheme of things. The size difference is nothing.

Nothing unless, of course, you’re a giant super soldier whose genetically modified to be larger, stronger, and faster than the average man. Deadlier than the average man. He won’t be just a head taller than her— he’ll be at least two. Maybe more. And that’s just the height— he doesn’t even want to think about the rest. He is going to be stuck for three days, in what will most likely be a cramped safe house, with a girl who he could potentially break by bumping into her too hard. He can see it now: he takes the corner too fast and the next thing he knows she’s sprawled at his feet, her limbs bent at grotesque angles and her glossy lips flattened. All because he didn’t think to check.

This is going to be a long three days.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As it turns out, there are no safe houses— not legitimate ones at least. What there is, however, is the Wilson’s old family home in Delacroix, Louisiana— a semi falling apart, two-story build with robin's egg blue, fading paint. It is nestled deep into the bayou, hidden meticulously between towering trees. It is miles from any main roads and on the bank of a mostly dead river. Foot traffic is scarce and boats rarely pass on sunny days, let alone during the rainy season— the season it just so happens to be. Perfect.

Well, the location is perfect. The rest is a god damn shit show.

“You ready?” Sam doesn’t look at him— he knows better than that, opting instead to continue staring out at the bayou from behind the wheel.

Bucky, hunched over in the passenger seat, eyes also locked on the blue home, shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Sam sighs and Bucky tries not to tense at the sound. Please, not another lecture— not right now. He tries to ignore the man, gaze pouring over what he assumes is supposed to be a charming porch. Under a dim but sturdy awning there waits a white swing with a long bench seat and some floral pillows. Across from it are two rocking chairs swaying softly in the Louisiana breeze. One has a matching blanket draped over the back. It is supposed to look cozy— he knows it’s supposed to and he is sure to everyone but him that it is cozy. To him, though, it looks like everything he doesn’t have. Like warmth and sunny days and peace. Things he wants and things that make his skin crawl because of how foreign they are to him.

“You’re not going to hurt her.” Sam taps his hand on the wheel, sounding out a pattern that plays more like bullets ricocheting through the cab of the truck than whatever melody it actually is.

Bucky grinds his teeth together. Now he’s looking at the window beside the porch. Is it a kitchen? A mudroom? A den? He isn’t sure, there’s a white curtain pulled across the frame, blocking his vision from whatever waits for him on the inside. Blocking his vision from her. For a moment he thinks he sees the curtain move— a shadow of a hand passing along the edge. He turns away— he doesn’t want to scare her if she’s trying to size him up before they meet. It’s the least he can do. God only knows how terrified she already is.

His stare lands on Sam— an invitation for the soldier to finally look away from the bayou. “But I could, right? That’s what matters here— I could hurt her.”

“No, Buck, you couldn’t— you wouldn’t. You aren’t evil or whatever it is you think you are.” Sam raises a brow and Bucky scowls— it always feels like he’s in his head.

Of course he would never tell Sam Wilson that— like a dog left to fend for himself, he would rather fight.

“Don’t pretend like you have any idea what I think.” He can’t find it in himself to feel guilty for snapping— isn’t that what wild animals do?

Ever the patient animal rescuer, Sam rolls his eyes at the bite. “You’re a good man, Barnes.”

Bucky stares back for a minute, not sure how to even broach an answer, before breaking, snapping his gaze back to the inviting home— his kennel for the next three days. He clenches his jaw, trying not to slam his head against the dashboard for being an idiot. Even Bucky understands that it’s bad when he breaks the stare first— he’s been told before that he has a staring problem. He just doesn’t want to look Wilson in his eyes and explain to him exactly why he’s wrong. Maybe it’s just easier to let him think what he wants.

“Whatever.”

Maybe he wants just one person to truly believe that he isn’t the bad guy— even if he doesn’t believe it himself.

“I thought old people were supposed to be mature.”

Bucky flashes him a forced grin, one that tastes like the three hours of sleep he got last night and the five hours of self-loathing, shoving open his door and following it with his foot. “That’s me— the mature one.”

Sam barks out a laugh; either Bucky’s grimace— grin— worked or Sam is choosing to ignore it. “You’re old, not mature— there’s a difference, pal.”

“Hmph.” Bucky jumps out of the truck, yanking the duffle bag over his shoulder as his boots sink into the spongy grass.

His skin dampens immediately, a combination of the marshy climate and the grey clouds hanging above his head. A few droplets fall against his face and he slings a hand over his brows, turning towards his fate for the next three days. Without the barrier of the truck between him and the house, he almost feels like a normal man again. The weak, destructible kind. Theoretically, if the house were to fall on top of him right now he would survive. He would be pinned under the rubble, yes, but alive. It just doesn’t feel like it— it feels like he would be crushed. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end— his hackles rising as he tries not to bare his teeth— or fangs— at this new kind of threat. If only people could see him now; The White Wolf afraid of a charming, bayou home.

What a joke.

He shakes his head, pushing the passenger door shut with a sharp clang. Of course he isn’t afraid of a house— then he really would be an idiot. No, he is afraid of something else entirely— something much more sinister. Bucky is afraid of suburbia; of normalcy. What, with a metal arm and a brain hardwired to kill— it only makes sense he would also be programmed to steer clear of anything half-way decent. Especially pretty, fragile girls with glossy lips. Fuck. He squeezes his eyes closed, his vibranium fingers clenching around the strap of his bag. What is he even doing here?

A familiar, mechanical buzz fills the air and he cracks an eye back open in time to see Wilson leaning his head out of the passenger window. “Look, man— it’s three days. The fridge is full, the wifi is on, and it’ll rain so much she’ll probably nap the entire time. Pretend you’re at home doing whatever it is you would normally do. You’ll be fine.”

Bucky nods, sticking to his guns and letting the soldier believe what he wants. He tells himself again that it is because it is easier that way. “I gotta go, Wilson.”

With that he pushes his way to the door. His feet sink further into the grass with every step, curling around his ankles as though trying to warn him against entering the house— or trying to save the poor girl inside. He can’t decide. Warning or trap. Both. A warning for her— the princess; the little girl in the forest— and a trap for him— the rabid wolf. He steps onto the porch, his boots echoing off the concrete. To him it’s booming. He doesn’t want to think about what it must sound like to her, especially with everything the commander said she’s been through. A giant coming to kill her is his guess. Movement to the left catches his eye, the curtains shifting again, and his neck flushes.

“Hey Buck?”

He sighs— again— and turns over his shoulder for what he hopes is the last time— he just wants to get this over with. “What, Wilson?”

He knows before the man speaks that the cheshire grin on his face can mean nothing good— still he waits for the answer.

“Remember to tiptoe.”

[imaginewarehouse]

Various Males x Fem!ExModel!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: You, a retired model get hired at Cloud 9 and, not-at-all-surprisingly, you get harassed by every allegeable (According to them) bachelor in the place- but god fucking damnit! You’re just here to get a paycheck??!  

“You can’t knock ‘em out, you cant walk away,

Try desperately to think about the politest way to say,

“Just get out of my face,”, “Just leave me alone,”

“And no you cant have my number,”,

“Why?”

“Cuz I lost my phone.”

(Inspired by Lily Allen’s Knock ‘Em Out)

Includes (In order of appearance after the introduction bit): Sal Kazlauskas, Garret McNeil, Tate Staskiewicz, Isaac (And I think my favouritism here definitely bleeds through*Cough*), Elias Greene, Cory, Jonah Simms, and Marcus White.

Warnings: Sal, harassment (They leave after you say no though. Just to be sure) 

🔆  🔆  🔆

“And uh, yeah one last thing before we all hop off to work! We have a new Cloud 9 family member. Y/N! Would you like to stand up?” Glenn, the lovely man who took your interview a week ago and then went out of his way today to look for you out front in the morning to show you around quickly and guide you through clocking in, finds you in the crowd of workers and gestures for you to stand.

Oh, uh- uhh, okay! Up we get, then, you think as you stand up like he said and take a look around at all the judging eyes, which normally wouldn’t phase you but here is a lot scarier than what you’re used to. This an entirely different environment to getting up at a modelling gig- you know nothing about working this kind of job! You’ve never done it, so, you’re afraid they’ll judge you right off the bat and make it difficult for you to ask questions. And you can’t keep bothering Glenn- he has more important things to do.

Oh god, you hear whispering. You peer around. Where is that coming from?-

“This is Y/N L/N! She’ll be working with Go back’s today,” Right, Go Back’s Easy enough; Glenn explained them earlier before the meeting started. “So if you see her in your area- be sure to say hello and see if she needs some help, K? Good. We’re jazzed to have you with us Y/N.”

“Thank you!” You quip quickly, then sit down and focus on Glenn again, hoping dearly at the same time that attention disperses from you immediately.

Glenn smiles, glancing down at his clipboard for any last-minute messages. “Okay! I think that’s it, so- “

The whispering from before suddenly cuts off. “Uh yeah, question?” Glenn stops short when a man in the back kind of rudely cuts him off, but sighs out a ‘Yes, Marcus?’ as the woman beside him - Dina, - rolls her eyes severely. Oh, you let a tiny ghost of a smirk slip over your lips. That’s kind of a reaction, isn’t it? “Yo- new girl.” What- me- w h y- You immediately get awkward again and twist around in your chair, but don’t really know who to look at. Luckily the tall brunette in the warehouse uniform is pointing, so you figure it out pretty quick that that’s who you’re looking for, and calm down. Mostly. 

Yeah? You raise one eyebrow. “Hi?”

He grins back to the right and the left of him, to his equally pleased buddies and pals, before raising a Vogue magazine- and it’s the issue on which you scored the front page. Jeez, that was months ago! “Is this you?”

A chorus of ‘Ohhhhh’ and general excitement travels around the room and for the first time ever, you’re half ashamed to admit that yes that is you. In your usual circle this is something to be proud of… but you get that it isn’t really like that, in non-modelling circles. In fact, it could be something to be embarrassed about.

Especially seeing that oh dude and his gang of Michael Myers fashion wannabes look like a hungry, dim-witted, wolves rather than plainly interested about your modelling career.

But, still, you smile politely and nod. Hopefully it’ll be forgotten before the afternoon, at least. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Nice.”

Hmm… you really, really hope that it’s forgotten soon, at least, as you turn back around to face the front again as Glenn sends everyone off to work. Because if not, then these boys are going to learn the hard way that models take self-defence classes religiously.

Or at least you are going to have a very uncomfortable day, which is just great. You groan inwardly at the thought, as you gather up your coffee from the table beside you and drop it in the trash can on the way out.

~

You’re just doing your own thing and someone

Comes out of the blue,

They’re like,

“Alright”

But he’s saying

“Yeah can I take your digits?”

And you’re like, “No, not in a million years, you’re nasty.

Please leave me alone.”

There’s already so many Go Back’s! You think excitedly, as you get to work looking for where things should be. You’re glad to have something to do- at your first job with Chuck E Cheese, before you got into the modelling thing, you were basically useless the first day because you weren’t allowed to grill yet, you didn’t know how to assemble, and they didn’t want you out on the floor for the birthday party that was happening, in fear that you would mess up royally. So you just sat around trying not bother anyone, and that felt terrible. So, wandering the aisles of Cloud 9 with a full shopping trolley searching for products and neatening things up? Sounds like a good deal to you. Yes please.

“Uhh, hi.”

You practically jump entirely out of your skin, hearing the voice right beside you and whip your head around to see a balding guy in a blue Cloud 9 jacket. Is this man licking his fingers!?

“Uh,” You step back with your brightest, most polite smile, picking something up from the Go Back’s cart and rounding it to put it between you and the man, before acting like you’re stupid enough to be putting barbecue sauce in the Barbie section, and then… “Oh, oops! Silly me!” You flash the guy a nervous look. “I’m still working things out… “

Well? Better to look like an absolute idiot, then be standing within grabbing radius of the creepy man licking his fingers that you’re all alone in the middle of an empty aisle with. “Um… so, what’s up? Did someone send you to find me, or… am I doing something wrong? You know better than me, after all!”

“No… “His gaze licks up your form and if it weren’t for all your ‘training’ in staying still and not feeling this kind of thing- you absolutely would have wigged out. “You’re doing fine… Just wanted to see you.”

Boy- if anyone else could see your face right at this moment, full of disgust and mild horror, you’re sure you would be YouTubes next hit. Or a meme. “Oh… “You nervously chuckle. “Um, well, I’m gonna… go… “You pull the trolley around so that you can back up out the back of the aisle and escape through stuffed toys, into the open but his hand comes down on the other end of the trolley- stopping it. Before you can stop yourself, verbal diarrhoea spews from your lips. “Glenn has my resume- there’s a photo on there you can have.”

“That’s okay I prefer them to be breathing.” Both his hands are on the end of your trolley now, tight so his knuckles turn white, and he’s breathing unnecessarily heavy. He’s even leaning over the trolley some like his body really can’t handle whatever terrible heat is plaguing it right now. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god… this is so gross.

“Well, that’s… u-understandable...”

He looks up into your eyes, now, and doesn’t blink. Who the hell is this guy?! “Say… “ Oh no, oh no- he’s coming around the trolley-he’s coming around-he’s close-too close-too close-mayday-MAYDAY- Slowly, in your face, he licks up his thumb, makes an ‘Mm,’ sound, and you deeply wince; So much so in fact that one of your eyes completely closes. “Could I take your phone number?”

You absolutely couldn’t have helped what happened next if you had wanted to.

“Eeeeuuuwwwwwwww no not in a million years, your nasty, please leave me alone!!” You exclaim in a high voice before abandoning the trolley and rushing off to customer service.

~

“No you cant have my number,”

“Why?”

“Cuz I lost my phone.”

By the time you got to the front desk, you had basically calmed down and were mostly just stressed that you left the Go Back’s behind- but still must look troubled as the guy manning the front desk makes a confused, half-concerned but mostly intrigued kind of face at you as you stop there. You’re about to explain your appearance - that or just shrug, not too bothered about reporting whatever mess that was. Not on your first day, at least. No way. - when his face relaxes, and he nods. “Ohhh. Damn, Sal got to you?”

Sal? Was that the guy’s name? You didn’t check. “Oh, was that his name? I was a bit too preoccupied by his eyeballs sucking out my soul, to notice his name tag.” Now that you’re thinking about it, though, you glance at this man’s name tag. Garret.

“Yep, that’s Sal. That’s just one of the wonderful things involved in working here that you’ll just have to get used to.” Garret grins, offering you a chill perspective with a side of cynicism. You sigh, truly feeling relieved that you’ve found a normal person and relax your back against the taller part of the desk.

“Brilliant.” The sarcasm drips off the tip of your tongue.

“You’ll have to deal with a lotta that here, though, looking like you do.” You turn your head to the side to look already exhausted just by the idea, at him. He shrugs. “Hey, I don’t make the rules. I just speak the truth.”

“God- I feel sorry for the other women working here.”

“Oh, no. They’re in a completely different wheelhouse to you. Sorry.” Garret leans on his forearms on the desk, and you roll over to lean on your shoulder and pay attention. “See, you’re a model- “

“I was a model,”

“You were a model- which through primitive male thought process makes you prime real estate. Whoever manages to ‘bag’ you, for lack of a better word I apologise, gets some serious bragging rights.” He shrugs, and looks vaguely apologetic but still some how shameless as this utter bullshit slips out of his mouth. “We can’t help it- some of us don’t even know we’re doing that, but we are. Actually, I’m probably the only one who’ll admit it… which… kinda makes me your best option. Self-awareness, and all that.”

Oh. A dry laugh comes out of you as you feel a text come through in your back pocket and pull out your phone. As you see that its not an urgent message, you immediately put the phone back and glance around for any supervisors before returning to your conversation with Garret. “Oh- of course it does.”

“Exactly!” He grins, and you can’t tell through his expression at all whether he’s genuinely this clueless or if he’s just shooting his shot. “So- “

“No, you can’t have my number.”

“Why?”

Deadass, in a very monotone voice, you say: “I lost my phone.”

Then the two of you just have a stare off for a minute. Garret because he just saw you use your phone, and you because you wont back down.

~

“Oh yeah, actually yeah I’m, I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby in like 6 months, so no. Yeah, yeah… “

“You know,” The chemist pipes up from behind the Pharmacy desk as you put back some pill boxes he said were fine to return to the shelves, and you glance over at him to show you’re listening, and check his name tag. “I myself considered a career in modelling, before this. People even say, now, that I could model.”

Oh boy. You think, fighting not roll your eyes. And how old are you? Early 30’s? I don’t think so buddy.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t recommend it.” You flash him a nervous grin before returning to your shelving. “You’re good for, like, 3 years. But then you hit 22 and unless you look like Victoria Justice shared with you whatever youth fountain she got chucked into, then you have to find something else to do with your life- despite having nothing to fall back on.” Okay… so… I might be a bit bitter.

Tate chuckles - and oh boy, he sounds just like your old manager. Totally fake, -, hiding his hands in his lab coat pockets. “Yeah, you’re probably right… Besides, I got the better end of the deal, anyway. Doctor for the doctors, they call us.” They call Pharmacists that? Who? That’s news to you. “Ahhh, yeah… I’m doing pretty well for myself.”

“Yep.” Forcing a fake smile his way, you leave the shelf you were stocking and get closer to the desk to stock another, as Tate’s eyes follow you waiting for encouragement of some kind. Doesn’t he have a job to do?? “You chose well!”

“Yeah, thanks. I know.” Ffffff-f a r out. This guy! “You know, you and me, we’d make a good couple.”

Oh? Dear god? You pause your shelving in surprise at the bomb this man has just dropped so casually, fish oil tablets paused on their journey to the shelf mid-air. Could Garret’s crazy-pants theory have been right?

“Ohh,” You giggle nervously, returning to work a bit faster now. “I don’t know. I think for a pharmacist like you, I would envision, like… “An actual doctor? No, I can’t say that. “A personal trainer, or something. Keep you both healthy all-round, you know? Now that’s a power team.” As long as that personal trainer has humility enough for the both of them, at least.

“Mergh,” He makes a face, like ‘What the heck are you talking about??’, before shaking his head of the things you just said and leaning over the desk towards you. You keep packing, even faster now. Like the Flash. Go! Go! Go! Death Con 5!! “So, whadaya say? I could pick you up Friday after work, and we could head up to one of my timeshares?” He says that like it’s such a selling point! You think, fighting off the powerful urge to laugh but still feeling the panic deep in the pits of your soul. “Stake it out together for the weekend? Get to know each other?”

“Uhh… “Excuses! What are they? You slowly stop stocking, turning around to face him and crossing your arms. The man deserves to at least be faced as he’s rejected; You’re kind enough to give him that, at least. “I’d love to! But, the thing is… “Chewing your bottom lip, you think hard.

Ding Ding Ding!!

“The thing is, Tate… “You fake some nerves, now. “I’m actually, uh… “You look up, face relaxing. “Pregnant.”

Oh boy, the way that man recoils at that word, like a terrified, disgruntled, blonde hedgehog. You’re going to laugh so hard about it, later!! “Oh.”

“Yeah! Oh, I mean, yeah… I’m gonna be having a baby, in like, 6 months so… yeah… Yep.“ You shrug to him, as if its just so unfortunate. “Shame.”

~

She looks in her bag, takes out a fag, tries to get away from the guy on a blag,

Can’t find a light.

‘’Here, use mine.’’

‘’See the thing is I just don’t have the time.’’

Ahh, lunch. Now you can check your texts! Hmm, you look through your notifications and gradually lose excitement. Mum… mum… mum… phone bill company… friend… mum again…

Ah, the glamorous life of the famous.

You roll your eyes, and get to responding to your mothers texts about dinner and when you’ll be home and how your first day is going, not noticing the not-so-jolly, not-so-green-(unless-you-meant-pot) giant approaching you. When you finally finish responding to both your mum and your friend, you put your phone away and start unwrapping your lunch- a typical ham sandwich that you’re actually pretty excited about. That’s one good thing about your sudden drop in financial status; You can put in your damn sandwich as many pieces of ham and cheese as you like. Grinning excitedly, you pick it up and have it halfway to your mouth before another person - a very heavy, large person, - drops down beside you on the bench you’ve commandeered behind the store. You close your mouth without any delicious lunch inside it and look up, politely to the person who’s joined you.

And all you can think, is wow.

He could put you in a suitcase and walk off with you right now and have no problems.

That’s wow.

“Hi! I’m Y/N,” You introduce yourself, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I know.” Oh, well yeah okay that’s understandable. Glenn did introduce you to everyone this morning. Despite the man’s less-then-excited response, he takes your hand in his and shakes. It makes you all giddy inside, honestly. So b i g. “Names Isaac.”

Do you remember Isaac in the breakroom this morning? You wrack your brain for him, because surely if he was there you noticed him-

Oh. Yep, you remember him. He was one of that Marcus-Dude’s pals chuckling and whispering behind him. He was one of the men that had the magazine with you on the front, and if there’s one thing you know about men who carry Vogue in their locker’s it’s that they fit into only 2 groups- interested in fashion, obviously… and interested in the women. And this man clearly is not interested in fashion. Immediately, on this realisation, you feel disappointed- you really could have liked this man right off the bat…

But it looks like he’s just going to be another of the men at this store you have to get to know, before becoming friendly with.

“So,” He starts, and you fight off a wince. Hopefully, you don’t know what’s coming. But… the likeliness of that is not high. “You wanna go out, some time? I’m a big fan of your work.” He smirks.

“Oh, ha ha.” You laugh sarcastically, shaking your head and returning to your sandwich. You take a bite and- Ahhhhhh, so worth the wait. Oh my god. Food orgasm. “At least you’re honest!”

“Yeah, so is that a yes?” His face brightens a smidgeon, which is a lot seeing as he doesn’t seem to be totally all there, in the first place.

You look up at Isaac, and look apologetic. He was honest with you so its only fair that you’re genuine with him. “Sorry… “

“Ah- actually, I don’t know if this’ll change your mind, but I have 2 weeks to live, so… “

Never mind on that honesty thing, then.

Dull-eyed, you stare up at him. “… Uh-huh.”

“Its true! I have, uh, cancer.” He insists, nodding his head and forcing his eyebrows up his forehead all serious-like.

“Cancer.” Right.

“Yep.”

Right, time to look in the bag... You start to wrap up your lunch again - sadly, as now you’ll have to wait until the end of the day and the bus ride home to eat it, - and plop it back away in your bag, getting up and pulling out a cigarette instead- that should hold you over until the end of the day. “My lunch break is actually over, so I should go- Damn, where’s my light?“

Isaac rifles through his pockets until he pulls out an old looking neon orange lighter, and offers it to you. “Here, use mine.”

Oh, no. You stare at it like a deer in headlights. If you accept that, like you really want to right now because it’s been a month since your last smoke, then you have obligations to sit with him for another couple minutes, at least.

Aghh… You groan and whine on the inside, before making up your mind and flinging the cigarette into a puddle. “See the thing is, I don’t actually have the time-”

~

“Go away now, let me go.”

“Are you stupid? Or just a little slow?”

“Ughhh… “This one has been giving you looks all day, but had no courage until now to speak to you- but the thing is? He didn’t have the smarts, either, to take off his wedding ring at least before he decided to be a bastard and bother you. So you feel absolutely no regret about being exactly as dismissive or plain rude, as you feel. “Elias? Go away now.”

The nervous man, who’s been ringing his hands this whole time and stuttering through failed date requests that you pretended you didn’t understand because of his struggle, gets panicked. “Just let me ask!- Will, will you go out with me?”

“No.” You yawn, dropping a piglet toy into a basket.

“But!- “

Turning away, you start pushing your trolley along to get to the next aisle. “Let me go.”

“We can go wherever you like!”

Sighhhhhhhhh. You turn around and grant him an audience, putting your hands on your hips and raising you brows at the wedding band on his left hand.

“Are you stupid? Or just a little slow?”

~

“Please fuck off.”

Oh good god in heaven, they’re going bigger with their proposals.

“Y/N! Will you go out with me?”

This man, Corey, has grabbed the announcement phone now that you’re walking away, making you freeze like the dad possum in Over The hedge and seriously consider playing dead, too, as you slowly turn around to look at him again.

Oh, if only looks could kill- he would be so dead that even Vlad the Impaler’s victims would laugh.

This is your first day, and the fact that you’re being harassed by multiple stupid men is bad enough but now he’s calling attention to you like this? Glenn’s going to think you’re a troublemaker!! Jesus fucking Christ- you need this job! Corey continues to talk into the speaker phone, even as he looks into your eyes and sees his death.  “And… now… you’re looking at me like that, so uh… I’m just gonna… say please?”

… “’Please’ fuck off.”

“Yes ma’am-“  

~

“Go away now, I’ve made myself clear.

I don’t think so.

Nah its not gonna happen.

Not in a million years.”

Since the run-in with Corey and the following spike in your blood pressure, you’ve calmed down again. But now you’re looking into the two faces of a ‘Mateo’, who you apparently work with, and a ‘Castor’ who does not work here and is not shopping but is still in your face and is t h i s close to feeding that ugly tie to his cousin.

But, still, you’re going to stay graceful, because Castor constantly looks like he’s 3 seconds from pooing himself. “Now please go away, now… I think I’ve made myself clear.” By explaining, politely, that you aren’t looking for a man but thank you for the offer, Castor.

“Oh, but you haven’t heard what Castor does for a living! He’s in insurance,” Mateo explains to you, like this is some huge game changer. When you don’t react, he adds that there’s good money, insurance.

You almost laugh. Does this boy really think you’re such a gold digger? Boy- if I wanted riches then I could’ve easily become a C-Class actor who has no skills in the area, but is pretty so gets praised like she does- like a lotta my model friends.

Instead I’m here, at Cloud 9.

Come to your own conclusions.

But instead of saying that, though, you just shake your head nervously. “I don’t think so… “

“But!- “

“Nah… sorry, its… not gonna happen… “

“But Castor is- “

“Not in a million years… “

~

“Aw, no. I gotta go. My house is on fire.”

Now, at least this one is respectful, you think, listening to him talk about the products you’re shelving together. He had come over and offered to give you a hand when you looked confused, as a ‘Cheyanne’ had handed you a scanner earlier and then promptly ran off, despite your utter incompetence. You were so relieved that this guy turned up!!

“… so, you just punch in reduce .50, and scan! Its pretty easy, if you have it properly explained to you. I- I was actually in the same situation, as you! When I first started here, except I ended up, uh, reducing all the items in electronics to 15 cense rather than discounting it all 15 percent.” A grin spreads across your lips at the story, and thank god that Jonah had turned up before that happened to you and, with your luck, you got fired for it.

“Oh no!”

“Yeah- Amy, our uh, floor supervisor, was pretty cranky with me about that… “He laughs himself, resting his hands on his hips; Still looking nervous at the memory.

You look back down at the scanner you’re holding and shake your head. “Well at least you know, now! And thank you so much for coming to my aid, haha. I was so lost- you’ve been a huge help! A life saver, truly.”

“Yeah… “ He gives a cute little, reserved smile. “So, uh, its basically the end of the day! Hope you’re first day hasn’t been too strenuous. At the end of my first day, I know I was tired. But I got to go out with a couple of the other employees and have a drink, to destress. If-If you were free, we could… do something. Together.” Your eyebrows slowly raise up your forehead at that, and you turn to look up Jonah, sceptical. What was that? You sure have had a long day, and its about to get a lot longer if this boy is asking what you think he is. “Sorry! Sorry, that sounded weird. Um, I guess what I’m really asking, is… would you like to, I dunno, go out with me sometime? I know some great places.”

Oh, noooooo! You cry, on the inside. You thought you found a normal one!

Still, he is being so nice… The least you could do is let him down easily.

“Oh, Jonah, I actually… oh- sorry.” Your phone beeps in your pocket and you take it out quickly to have a glance - its just your mother… again, - … and suddenly get an idea. Feigning shock, you quickly put the phone away and put down the scanner. It’s time to clock out and go home, anyway, thank god. “I have to go! That was my mum, uh- I really have to go!”

“Wow, wow, wow, what’s wrong?? Can I help with anything?”

Oh… he looks so concerned. He’s sweet.

But before you can rethink your words, this living horror slips out. “My-my house is on fire.”

Oh god, you’re a horrible person.

~

“I’ve, I’ve got herpes. No- Syphilis!”

Oh thank god the day is over. Rolling your shoulders back, you kneel down at your bottom locker, open it up and take out your bag. Now you can go home and put on Gotham on Netflix, wear no pants and eat thin mints until you fall asleep.

When you get up, you aren’t watching out for a man to be standing barely half a foot away from you - Your mistake, obviously, - so you jolt right out of your skin when you see him and curse. What is wrong with these men? Does Cloud 9 offer complimentary staff ninja classes along with their lack of health insurance? Man, classy company. “Sorry!” You look up past the coveralls after stepping a safe distance back from him, and immediately feel dread deep in your chest. “Oh, hi. Marcus, was it?”

“That’s me! How was your first day?” He asks, seeming polite enough despite the fact that you’re cornered between tall boy and the lockers. And you’re too tired to try and slip away- this boy will get out of your way.

“It was good! Thanks for asking. I’m ready to go home and collapse, though.” You admit, shoulders dropping and a tired smile on your lips. Mmm… thin mints… bed… blankets… Cory Michael Smith… I can taste it… Marcus just needs to get out of my way.

“I hear that.” Evidently not quite as deeply, though, as he moves on pretty fast. “Listen- I was thinking if you’re into it we could… go out, some time.” He tilts his head forward to clarify, “On a date,”, in case that part hadn’t translated, and chuckles. “We could see a movie or get drinks, or something, I don’t know. How about tonight?”

T-tonight? The word nearly slips from your lips; All disbelief and tears and exhaustion, included. You’re so tired. “Um… you know, tempting offer, but um… “He looks so hopeful. It nearly changes your mind. “Not tonight.”

“OH! So like, tomorrow?” Oh christ- “Cuz I’m supposed to watch Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here with my mum, but… no, I can blow that off! So, tomorrow?”

You take a deep breath, not really knowing what you can say. “Marcus… “He raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “… I have herpes.”

“Wait, what??” He steps back, nearly tripping over a table in his fear that just being near you will cause him to contract the disease, and you let your guard down in relief. Yep, for sure, definitely. If it makes him back off, then yes- you have herpes. You have a raging, festering case of herpes.

“Yeah! Or-“ Squinting, you pretend to sift through your brain. “Was it Syphilis?” This boys eyes basically bulge out of his head and you’re totally going to laugh about it later, but right now you have to get out of there. You waive your hand dismissively and walk on by him towards the door like you don’t have a care in the world. Before you leave though, you turn around a flash Marcus a big smile. “Either way, ew, right? Well, see you tomorrow buddy! Gotta go! Enjoy I’m A Celebrity with your mum.” Then you’re gone.

Tomorrow is going to be a much better day, once that rumour is properly spread.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Unfinished Business ~ Part One

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

WARNINGS: Mentions of mafia, strong language, 

PAIRING: Bang Chan X Reader

DESCRIPTION: Part one of nine of my new Bang Chan series. 

You’re taken hostage but one of Seoul’s leading mafia families Bang Chan but he doesn’t take you because he wants to fake a marriage or make you fall for him in 365 days no...He wants to use you for his own personal gain. To take over another family but when you try to escape things take a turn for the worst and you learn Chan isn’t one to be messed with.(Please I suck at describing stuff)

THEMES: Smut will be included in a later chapter so this is a fic for a mature audience, Chan x Fem!Reader, Self insert

MASTERLIST | NEXT

The cafe was run down and practically going out of business, same for everything on that side of the city though. The place was like a ghost town no one new ever came by any more thanks to all the Big shot mafia families running everything to the ground. Your cafe manager was staring at you as you cleaned up the tables of the small run-down cafe that you worked in. You'd been running late again that week and that's why Mrs Lu was staring at you from across the shop, hands on her hips as she watched you rushing around to finish things up,

"I know I was late but it's been a bad week, my granddad-"

"I don't need your excuse y/n, I need you here on time so you don't rush at the end of your shift." Her tone of voice was one of annoyance and you knew you only had so long until she decided to fire you. She took you in when you were younger and treated you like her own daughter but you were starting to cost the business money and it was a problem. She shut the cash register and walked over to you car keys in hand, she was 4"5 and so short next to you so you smiled at her weakly, 

"It's late, would you like me to drive you over?" You looked out of the cafe window it was pitch black outside, the only thing you could see was the passing car lights and city lights you sighed, you knew it would be a nice to be driven over there but if you showed up in that side of town with her in her car there would be too many questions. Her car was broken and practically falling apart - you could have sworn the car was older than you, you lived a lie on that side of town, on that side of town you were the smart rich kid who went to university and came back to town because she needed a place to stay and needed a job. 

"Alright, just make sure you text me when you get there. I don't like that side of town." There was a reason she hated that side of town and that was because of who ran it, the place was ruled by mafia bosses and if you were there you either worked for them, were stupid or didn't care. You smiled at her, nobody knew about your lie over there and nobody was going to know about it either.

"I will. I'll be fine, I always am." You grabbed your keys for the shutters and threw them in her direction so she could lock up, she was a small lady but she packed a punch...So did the gun she kept behind the counter. You headed out of the door to find a bus down to the other side of town, while you were waiting you called your second boss to let him know you were going to be late.

"It's Y/n, running late. I'll be there and I'll lock up at 4, you can dock my pay too." You hung up the voicemail call and groaned into your hands. You had to get a car but the jobs weren't paying enough even put together it was never going to be enough. It barely covered your rent and grandfathers bills as it was at this point you were seriously considering selling off some organs or maybe doing a bank job. 

You sat on the bus staring out of the window as it drove through the town, 

"Excuse me," You shifted over to the other seat so the older male could take the only available seat next to you and you stared down at the paper he had in his hands. Splashed across the front was Bang Chan, one big photo of him along with an article about something new he'd done that week, he was one of the city's leading people. He ran practically everything in the posher side of town, including the bar you worked in but you never saw him around. You'd only ever heard the stories of him and his goons but none of them bothered with your bar, it was too small for them to like. It wasn't a huge fancy bar they would probably go for, it was a small pub with broken windows and a broken jukebox.

"Handsome, no?" You shook your head looking back up at the man and you laughed softly at his statement,

"Oh no, not my type. Too egotistical for me," Your answer caused the older gentleman laugh and questioned you on what you knew about him, 

"Not much except that he's cold, famous for nothing and thinks he's better than everybody else." The man frowned at you, everyone else who came across Chan seemed to fall head over heels in love with him but you seemed to see him for what he really was. An ill-tempered rich kid with too much money and power than he ever needed. Too much power for someone who had no idea how to use it probably and how he could use it to benefit everyone and not just himself.

"You better hope he doesn't hear you saying this, it could be your head on a stick." You laughed it off as you reached for the bell but his hand clasped over yours and he had a scared look on his face, one look which could only be explained as though he was speaking from experience. 

"I'm serious. Don't let him hear you talking that way," You slowly slipped your hand out from under his and walked off the bus your eyes trained on the man the entire time until the bus pulled away from your stop. 

"Y/n! Shift started an hour ago!" You jumped a little when you saw your boss waving a bar towel around in the air, his bald head was practically glowing in the moonlight and he had his tattoos on display clearly trying to look intimidating to everyone else around him.

"What happened to your car?!" Sid asked cockily as you walked over to him from the bus stop ignoring his question as you avoided cars. Every time he saw you arrive on the bus it was always the same question but you'd avoided it by saying it was in the shop or something was being repaired.

"I'm fucking speaking to you, I've got important people coming in and I need my best waitress." You smiled softly at him, he meant no harm. He loved all of his workers but since he was under Chan he had to be a little stricter with you sometimes, he couldn't afford people messing up his business which ultimately meant Chan's business. 

"What's the big deal, who's coming tonight?" You asked as you reached the bar, the rest of the barmaids were all grouped together and smirking at one another as you walked into the bar. Clearly, they were happy about something but you assumed it was because you'd agreed to lock up since none of them liked to do it, 

"Chan and his ''goons'' are coming over tonight. Want to see if they should keep the place since you're late and you agreed to lock up. You're their girl tonight. You'll give them everything they want no matter the cost." An apron was thrown over your head by one of the girls and she chuckled at you looking you up and down with a disgusted look on her face. Chan was going to chew you up and spit you out the moment he laid eyes on you, 

"Have fun princess, he loves to pry on the new ones." You ignored her comment and pulled the apron down to wrap around your waist, tying it tightly as though it was her neck you were tying it around. You hated her you always had. You weren't scared of Chan, you'd been given no reason to be but everyone you ever came across seemed to be terrified of the man in the suit, even the girls who had been smirking now look relieved that you'd bothered to show up to work at all.

Chan stared at the door to the bar, he didn't want to be here and neither did the rest of his close men but it was one of the bars that other rival gangs were threatening to take and he wanted to make sure it was useless before he decided to leave it for them to just take. Chan had never cared for ars in his business but it was a way to smuggle money in without people getting too suspicious on where it was truly coming from.

"It's nothing but a small bar, no one cares about it," Changbin told Chan, Changbin was Chan's right-hand man he knew everything about everyone, everything about anything he was the know it all of the group. The researcher as Jisung and the rest of the boys called him.

"What about the people that work here?" Jeongin, the youngest of Chan's gang questioned he was so innocent about everything. He'd always been the innocent one of the group and it made Chan smile that he cared about the people that worked there.

"They're nothing, they'll find somewhere new," Minho said without any emotion in his voice. He was the assassin, didn't care about anything but that was how he dealt with his lifestyle of killing people how he dealt with the guilt of it all how he got on with it day by day without the guilt crushing him. 

"How kind of you," Felix muttered sarcastically walking up to the door and walking inside first, the whole place fell silent and people put their heads down the way it always was whenever they walked into a room. They loved it. Chan was next and a table was cleared in the back of the bar, he kept his eyes trained to the floor not caring about anyone in the bar he just wanted to get this over with so he could go home. 

"Hi sir, it's nice to finally have you here. I have my best waitress to serve you tonight, I'm sure you'll like her but if not I will offer up a new waitress. Y/N!" You didn't even scramble over to the table you just slowly walked over and introduced yourself, you bowed to him and smiled as you came back up. 

"I'm Y/n, I'll be your waitress for the evening." Jeongin's eyes were trained on your face, Jisung looked up from his phone for the first time all night and Hyunjin was staring at you whole you spoke their mouths hanging open a little shocked you were speaking to calmly and freely to Chan like this. 

"Can we get pints all around, make it quick," Chan said not looking away from his phone until the last second but as soon as he saw your face his mind went fuzzy. You hadn't noticed you just walked away from the table and went to make the drinks for him so your boss could relax instead of hovering around like a lost sheep.

"Look at you, running around for the boss man." You stared at the other barmaid who was on shift with you and frowned she was staring at you as she tied back her long blonde hair. The longer you stared at her the worst you felt about yourself, she was dressed in a tight pencil skirt and a white dress shirt, exposing her chest since it got her more drinks sold in the bar. The girl could have been a supermodel if she wanted but instead, she stuck around here, you knew why though. The more she stayed here the more chance she had of finding someone that worked in a Mafia gang...More money for Mrs Perfect. 

"What are you talking about? I'm doing my job?" You poured the beers into the pint glasses, but she was looking you up and down and scoffing. 

"He's going to eat you up and spit you out." Your brows furrowed and she knew you were confused which meant you hadn't heard anything about him, nothing real anyway. 

"Chan...There's something you should know about him." She looked over at Chan who was still staring over in your direction.

"He killed his wife, murdered her in cold blood because she stood between him and something he wanted. Then there was his family and her family, he killed them all and paid off the police." The hairs stood up on the back of your neck as you thought about his wife and all of those people being killed for nothing. 

"No one else knows about it because he kills anyone that talks about it." She wiped down the bar with a cloth before smirking at you you couldn't tell if she was just doing this to mess with you or if she was serious about this, 

"Have fun, you're on your own. BABY!" She was making a scene to grab attention from people in the bar and it worked. Men stared at her as she threw herself at her fourth boyfriend of the week which made you laugh as she flung herself around him and walked out of the bar with him. 

"Your drinks," You mumbled putting their pints down in front of each of the men at Chan's table, you avoided eye contact like your boss had told you right before you walked over. There were rules for doing this, no eye contact with any of them, only speak when spoken to, don't talk back to them and don't give them any personal information to them.

"Thank you, y/n was it?" Hyunjin asked in a flirty tone, you nodded but said nothing just like Sid had told you to. 

"I'll come back when you're empty. Shout if you need anything," Hyunjin licked his lips he was the player of the group which was why he was so interested in you, he bit his lip while he watched you walk away from their table. 

"She'd make a good-" They all had girls that they would have sexual relationships with it was no secret but Chan already knew where his mind was going.

"Don't even think about it," Chan spoke, his eyes had been trained on your face the entire time you'd been at their table. You looked exactly like her, his wife. It was as if someone had made a carbon copy of her and placed you in the world for a moment when he'd seen you he thought it was her, that she was there alive once again. 

"Sid!" Chan called out and the owner of the bar rushed over to him, willing to give him whatever it was that he wanted without a question.

"What's her name and story?" Chan nodded his head over at you while you cleaned up other tables completely oblivious to everything going on around you. 

"Y/n, she's been working here for about four years. Came home from a college and needed a place to stay, she's one of those fancy stuck up rich kids that thought they could make it alone and failed." So much for don't give out any personal details about yourself, Changbin took note of everything he was saying knowing that Chan was going to ask him to run his own background check on you. He knew his best friend like the back of his own hand. 

"Rich kids?" Chan sounded surprised as he questioned Sid on that, he knew from one look at you that you weren't rich. Your hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, you wore no makeup and you walked around as if you didn't care what anybody thought. You weren't in the same clothes as the other girls in the bar either, while they all wore expensive branded high heels you wore a fake pair of trainers. Anyone else in this area took pride in their appearance, made themselves stand out from the rest and not try to fade into the background which is what you were clearly trying to do. 

"Her parents are lawyers, grandparents are doctors all that sort of thing. Shes's training to be a doctor herself, very smart." Chan scoffed as he watched you trip over your own feet, training to be a doctor but you were clumsy you'd probably stab someone with a needle. You'd already made three mistakes that Chan had been able to count so you weren't who you said you were. 

"Background check, check her name first. I want to know who she is and who she's working for." Changbin didn't even blink or bother telling Chan that he was already on it he just obeyed read through everything he could find on you, going through the police records along with colleges nearby. Running your name, age, and trying to find anything he could find in your personal life, your real one. 

The tray you were carrying had full drinks on top of it, while you waited for Chan and his boys to finish theirs you decided to wait on other tables, it was no big deal and it would pass some time while you were working, 

"Watch it!" You yelled as a drunken man pushed into you as he was leaving the bar, the tray you were carrying slipped out of your hands and onto Chan's table, spilling out onto his suit and the rest of the boys. Oh Shit. You stared down at the mess and your eyes went up to Chan, his face was turning red and the men around him look terrified for you at what had just happened each of them rising to their feet to stop themselves from getting covered in beers.

 "I'm so sorry! Chan! She's just a little clumsy, she'll clean all of this up and you can send your dry cleaning bill here." Your boss was trying to come up with anything to make Chan calm down but it wasn't working, he was starting to breathe heavily the angrier he got at the thought of his expensive suit being ruined.  

"It's fine." Seungmin froze from beside Chan as he heard him say that, you frowned as you heard the Australian accent fall from his mouth. No one had told you he was Australian and it was kind of hot to hear him speak with an accent. 

"It's just a suit...I'll have it cleaned I know someone." You thanked him for excusing you and you told him you would get them all a drink on the house next time they came back. 

"We're not planning on coming back," Chan said as he got out from the table throwing down some money to pay for the drinks they'd started with, he was standing in front of you and staring down at you into your eyes. A classic move to make someone feel powerless and beneath them, everyone in this area of the town did it and for some reason it made you challenge him to see what he would do in front of all of these people around you. 

"That's a shame, my boss went through a lot to make this place nice for you. It's a shame you're just going to give it all up." Chan smirked licking his teeth as you spoke back to him like that. He liked that you stood up to him, no one ever excited him like this anymore it was going to be a fun game with you. 

"Be careful Princess, you don't know who you're talking to." He whispered to you as he cocked his eyebrow up, you stared at him without blinking you shook your head. 

"No, I do know. I just don't care." He watched you walk away back over to your bar and listened to your boss continuously apologise for the way you were acting towards him, having no idea what had gotten into you and why you were acting this way.

"Seungmin. Do you have anything on you?" Seungmin nodded, he always carried everything they sold along with some other drugs they could ever need in the car. 

"Good. Felix get the car and make sure you have the cuffs, she looks like she might put up a fight." The boys didn't even defy what Chan was thinking they did as they were told and did so without question if they wanted to keep working for him and get paid. 

"Yes Sir," The boys all flooded out of the bar and Changbin got ready to drive Chan home they always travelled in different cars to make sure they weren't being followed. 

"I'll change and come back. We know she doesn't finish until later, but I want this placed watched. Got it?!" He was yelling, taking the anger out he had with you on them. Jisung hung back to keep an eye on you, Jisung was the secret weapon of the group. He came across as soft and innocent much like Jeongin but on the inside, Jisung was the second killer of the group while Jeongin was the bait. Jisung would lure people into a false sense of security, gain their trust so that he could get them for Chan. It was his job. They all had a role to play and they all played it well. 

3:55 am and you were locking up. Everyone who had been in the bar had long left now and you were cashing up the till putting the tips into the safe in the office before leaving through the back door, it led out into a creepy alleyway that made you anxious. There were no buses or taxi's to take you home so you knew you were going to have to rely on walking home to the bad side of town and pray that there was nothing going to happen. You'd done it a million times before but something felt wrong about tonight, something you couldn't put your finger on so you pulled your jacket around you tightly ready to leave as soon as you could.

"Hey! Y/n right?" You turned to see one of the men that had been with Chan that night and you nodded tucking your hair behind your ear. 

"Yes, can I help you?" He smiled at you and his smile seemed to make you relax when you saw it, he seemed like the nicest one out of all of the boys that had been at the table that night. 

"No, I was just walking around. I'm Jisung by the way, we never introduced ourselves." He shook your hand and you smiled until you realised what time it was and wondered what he was doing at 4 in the morning outside of a bar they no longer wanted, 

"Just walking around at 4 in the morning?" He hissed as you caught on quickly Chan said he thought you'd be smart about this, Felix was waiting around the corner with the car and Seungmin waiting with him. 

"A nice stroll, do you need a ride?" You shook your head not knowing if you should trust him or not. Your gut was torn now so you continued walking out of the alleyway to get into the street. Even if it was early there would still be people around to witness if anything happened to you...Not that anyone would speak since Jisung worked for Chan. A car stopped in front of you and two other people that had been with Chan sat there waving at you, 

"Get in the car Y/n." When you turned to look at Jisung he was holding a gun in his hand but once your back was turned away from the car Seungmin took out a cloth covered in chloroform and it was placed over your mouth. Your legs began to kick and you tried to scream but the tight grasp around your mouth tightened some more and dragged you back against the car. 

"Don't fight it, just go to sleep," Seungmin whispered in your ear trying to soothe you if that was even at all possible in this kind of situation, you continued to kick until Jisung grabbed your legs roughly and you were put into the backseat of the car, arms being bound with handcuffs and your legs being tied up with some rope. Your mind was trying to fight your system into going to sleep but your legs went numb the chloroform was acting far too quickly for your liking, your arms were heavy and your eyelids were starting to weigh down. 

"Go to sleep, it'll make this all easier if you just obey...Trust us." You looked at Jisung with pleading eyes tearing up as he repeated that you should just sleep and then to Felix who was staring at you from the front seat, he felt bad for this from the moment Chan mentioned taking you. It was a direct order from Chan though and he couldn't disobey the man who'd taken him in.

"Trust us, don't fight it. Relax." Your eyes locked with Felix's and he sent you a sad smile, he started up the engine of the car once he saw your legs stop moving and your eyes start to flutter shut. His sad smile was the last thing you saw right before you drifted off to sleep in Seungmin's arms with Jisung and Felix exchanging looks from the seats.

Tagline: 

@moonprincessdiviniation​ @taestannie​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @snowy-meowl​

[forthehpfanboys]

Home Alone

Pair: Harry Potter x Reader; he/him.

Summary: Harry plans on giving you something important to him when your home alone leading to you two get carried away and end up in your bedroom.

Warnings: SMUT (MDI)... But with a side of fluff! Kinky?? Kinky. If I forgot any, please dm me.

Notes: We love top Harry, tbh- Also, Remus and Sirius are together because fuck JKR.

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

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Harry knocked on the red door for a second time, bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. The boy had been waiting for about 5 minutes and, honestly, didn’t even know if anyone was home, but he wasn’t one to give up so easily. He let out a sigh when a quick ‘coming!’ resonated throughout the home. He ran a hand excitedly through his hair, messing up the already messy look. He recognized the voice easily, after all, it’s easy to know your boyfriend's voice.

He heard pounding footsteps rushing down the stairs then a thud, then a ‘oW, ohfuCK-’ causing him to laugh. Harry’s laughter hindered when you wiped open the door. Your hair was wet and you were just pulling your shirt down over your abdomen, giving him a flash of skin before it was hidden by cotton. He was gonna cry tears of joy.

“Harry! Babe, it’s so good to see you, what are you doing here?” You leaned against the door frame. You ran a hand through your hair, wiping the moisture on your sweats.

“Just wanted to see my favorite member of the Black family.” Harry found himself smiling and chose to ignore how his heart began to speed up his chest. You always managed to get his heart racing with the most softest of smiles.

“Don’t let Sirius catch you saying that. He gets jealous, ya know. Then I have to deal with him.” You snickered out, moving away from the door and moving deeper into the house. Harry followed you in, shutting the door behind him. He smiled at the feeling of familiarity. 

You are Sirius’ son by blood. He didn’t know who the mother was and frankly, neither did you, not that it mattered. Sirius was woken by a knock one random night 18 years ago and found you, a small baby wrapped up in a red blanket without a note or much else, just a name on a card. (Y/n) (M/n) Black. 

To this day you still have the blanket, but not as a blanket. You’d turned it into a tiny matching pair of lion stuffies for you and Harry. He wouldn’t tell you, but he always slept with it in his bed and would ignore his father's teasing over the stuffy. 

No one was exactly surprised when you and Harry got together because of how close Lily, James, Sirius and Remus were even after graduating Hogwarts, so it was natural you two hung out almost everyday since you were babies. That led you here, dating the raven haired son of your dad's best friend.

When Harry turned around, his eyes dragged across the cluttered walls absolutely filled with photos of you, Sirius and his husband Remus throughout the years. There was even one adorable 11 year old you and Harry, surrounded by both sets of parents and holding your Hogwarts invitations proudly. When his eyes finished along the photos along the stairs, he noticed the blue towel that laid at the bottom said wooden stairs.

“Wait, were you getting dressed while running down the stairs?” Harry pointed at the towel, his other hand going to his hip.

“Oh- You heard that?” You ran over to the stairs, almost tripping again just to grab the towel. You hid it behind your back, a nervous chuckle leaving your lips. “Of course you heard that, but no. I.. I did not fall or get dressed as I ran down the stairs.” 

Harry rolled his eyes while he pushed his glasses up. He managed to love you more and more every single time you breathed. How you won his heart was simple, you were just you. It was literally impossible for him not to fall in love with you. All the time away in his head and he just now noticed how quiet the house was.

“Where is Moony and Padfoot, anyway?” Harry walked over to the kitchen. He pulled a cup from one of the many cupboards lining the walls of said kitchen before opening the fridge.

“Out on one of their afternoon dates. They won’t be back until dinner, probably.” You followed after him, crossing your arms over the fridge door. You leaned into it, watching his arm reach into the fridge and pull out the water pitcher. 

“So, we’re alone?” He asked, straightening up and pouring the water into the glass.

“Yeah, why? Got a plan, Potter?” You smirked at him, watching his ears turn pink. He was adorable.

“Well, that isn’t why I came over, but, ya know.” He turned to you as he put the water back, his own smirk appearing on his lips. What do you expect? You were both teenagers, you're bound to be a little horny. You tilted your head in confusion. “I have a gift for you.” He gently nudged your arms off the top of the fridge and shut the door.

“Aw, babe. You didn’t have to.. What is it?!”

Harry shook his head again, his smile growing at your enthusiasm. Godric, you are truly adorable. Shifting the glass to his left hand, his right one dove into his pocket, pulling out something small enough to stay concealed in his palm. He looked down at his fist, his smile dropped when his eyes flicked back to yours.

“It’s something super important to me. I figured since you gave me part of that blanket, I’d give you something of equal value.” He took a sip of his water to be dramatic and then set the glass down on the kitchen table beside him.

“Oh, Harry..” You sighed out. “You don’t have to give me anything.. Like.. That.” Your eyes widened when he opened his hand, revealing a familiar golden ball. “No. No, I’m not taking that.”

“Yeah, you are.” He laughed out, his smile coming back ten fold. “Consider it a good luck charm.”

“But- Harry, no. That’s your first snitch! I’m not- I can’t-” You were cut off when he grabbed your wrist and tugged you into a kiss. His hands forced open your hand and stuffed the golden ball unto your palm before closing your fingers around it. The kiss depended when his other hand came around to the back of your head, holding you into the kiss. 

When Harry pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. Your chest was moving quickly to catch up with the oxygen he made you miss out on because of his stupid nice lips. His eyes stayed closed as he spoke.

“I want you to have it, (Y/n). I love you that much.” Harry brought your hand with the snitch in it to his lips, planting a kiss so soft it made your heart flutter. He stepped back, admiring the blush that changed your cheeks to a red color.

“If you say so, Har. I appreciate it, baby.” You looked down at the snitch. “Ya know.. You got me kinda worked up with that kiss.” Your eyes flipped to Harry’s as you brought the switch to your lips, using the golden ball to hide your smile at Harry’s nervous chuckle.

“Oh, really?” He was stepping forward again, pressing his chest to yours. Your eyes looked him up and down before wrapping your arms around his neck. You stuck your tongue out while your hand ran through his hair before tugging his hair, teasing, testing him before speaking.

“Yeah. I say we go do something about it, Potter.” 

Harry didn’t need you to tell him twice before his lips crashed against yours. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he spun you around, pressing your back into the kitchen table. One of your legs came up to wrap around his waist, allowing him to grind his hips into yours. You moaned against his lips, granting his tongue entrance. 

You arch your back and drop your head back when he rolled he rolled his hips particularly hard against yours. You shivered when his lips moved from your cheek to your neck, sucking on a spot just below your ear.

“Godric, I’ve missed you, (Y/n). I can’t wait to have you wet and open and begging for me again.” His voice was so close to your ear you could hear his breath hitch. “I can’t wait to destroy you, baby boy.” 

“Fuck, Harry. You’re so fucking talented.”

“Don’t say that yet, love, we haven’t even done anything yet.” He laughed, his hands going to your thighs, tapping them to ask you to jump up. He maneuvered your other leg to his waist once you hoped up, your arms still wrapped around his neck and the snitch still in your hand.

The raven haired male carried you out of the kitchen, planting messy kisses across your face as he skillfully climbed the stairs. At this point, you were blessing his years of quidditch for his strength. He all but kicked your door in, causing you to pull from the kiss, a laugh leaving your lips.

“Wanna kick in my window too? Hey, why don’t we burn my dad’s bed sheets next, hmm?” You squealed when Harry smacked your ass and basically threw you onto the bed.

“Keep up the attitude, brat, and I’ll fuck you over the desk.” He pointed to the brown wooden table in question. It was propped up right in front of your bedroom window for natural light. He shut the door to your bedroom just in case your fathers got home.

“Ooh please, Harry. We both know you don’t like sharing me and anyone could see.” You popped your leg up all dramatically, your head laying back and arm extended back too. The snitch had fallen from your hand at this point, leading it to roll across the bed.

“Alright, that’s it.” Harry reached out, grabbing your shirt and jerked you onto your feet. You didn’t even notice he pulled his wand out- probably to cast a silencing charm or something, but he was using it to magic the papers and quills and inkwells off your desktop. He pushed you to the desk, once again caging you against wood with his hand gripping the edge. He grabbed your chin with his fingers, his knee planted between your legs and grinding just right into your bulge. “I want you to strip for me, dolly. Nice and slow.”

His usual bright green eyes were dark with lust as he stared into yours. You grasped the bottom of your cotton shirt, slowly pulling it over your head to reveal the skin Harry’s wanted to touch since he arrived at your dark house. He licked his lips as his eyes grazed over the skin. His eyes stayed pinned against your hands as they traveled to the waistband of your black sweatpants. To his surprise, you weren’t wearing any boxers, leaving your hard on to slap against your pelvis. 

“Damn, hun.” He bit down on his lip, his hands going to your waist. “Godirc, you always manage to steal my breath away.” He looked at you with admiration, a side grin stretching across his face.

“Take my breath away.” You smirked, watching his grin falter. You kicked your pants away, smirking at him.

“What?”

“The saying is ‘take my breath away’. You said it wrong.”

“This is why I’m not letting you cum tonight.” His own smirk grew when yours died. You blinked a few times before a nervous laugh came out of your throat. 

“Wait, what?” 

Harry proceeded to flip you over while ignoring your complaint about the temperature of the desk, then bent you over the desk and pinned you by the back of your neck. You let out an involuntary moan at the roughness. Harry undid his belt, kinda, with one hand and struggled further with the button of his jeans. 

“Oh, for Merlins- fucking- come on!” The raven haired male let out a groan before pulling his hand away from your neck. “Don’t you dare move.” His hands fumbled with his jeans. “Stupid muggle clothes and stupid fucking muggle bel- Oh, got it.” 

At this point, you were craning your neck to look at him, your chin resting in the palm of your hand. It was clear by your smirk that you’d been watching him struggle and were enjoying it.

“Struggling there, babe?”

“I told you not to move.”

“Well, I was just checking out the view, Potter.” You couldn’t help but laugh when his cheeks turned bright red. “Aaw! I love seeing you blush, darling.”

“Shut it.” He grumbled out, trying not to smile at the complement. He grabbed your hair and pushed your cheek into the wood. “Do you wanna do this before your dads get home or am I gonna get blue balled by your cute flirting?” His free hand ran across your backside while you snorted.

“Fine, I’ll just keep my mouth shut.” You rolled your eyes, smiling back at him. You didn’t notice him lube up his fingers, but you did feel the cold slick finger enter you. “Cold!”

“Oh, sorry, love. Forgot to warn you.” Harry kissed your shoulder to make up for his mistake and began to move his finger, gently rubbing your walls. Your toes curled into the floor when the pad of his finger brushed against the button that usually had you sobbing his name before the finger pulled back.  

Your legs were already close to giving out when he pushed a second finger in right after. It’d been a while since you two had been intimate and damn was it showing. 

“Are you- Can I-?” Harry’s dick pulsed when you let out a particularly loud mewl of his name when his fingers hit your prostate again. He could’ve cried when you nodded your head and pushed your hips back. The raven haired male pulled his fingers free and didn’t hesitate to slide into you. His hands dug into your waist, a groan leaving his lips when his hips stuttered. “Tight-!” 

You melted into the desk when his hips met yours. You were practically drooling across the polished wood. Godric, it had been ffaarr too long. 

“You- ha- You should stop by more often.” You rested your chin against the desk, both of your hands were white knuckling the edge of the desk.

“Trust me, I will.” Harry spoke between chuckles. He leaned over your back, pressing his bare chest against your back. “I’m gonna move, ok?” Harry pulled back slowly, savoring how you felt before pushing back in just as slow. He swallowed thickly when you moaned. “Godric, I love the way you sound.” He kept the pace slow and deep, making sure to pause every once in a while to grind into you. His lips pressed against your shoulders, leaving a trail of burning kisses across your skin. 

Not long after, he began to move faster, his lips going straight to your ears while his hand moved south to the dripping wetness between your legs.

“Merlin, you always feel so good.” His voice had dropped a few octaves and sounded absolutely amazing in your ears. “I wanna do so much to you.” He let out a breathy laugh after you squeaked when his hand wrapped around your dick. “I just wanna-”

The raven haired male slapped a hand over your moaning mouth and immediately ceased the movements of his hips when he heard the floorboards below you creak. 

“(Y/n)! We’re home!” A familiar voice rang through the house. You looked out the window right in front of you. They must’ve drank some form of alcohol and used the floo because the muggle owned car Remus insisted on owning wasn’t in the parking space just outside. 

“Shit.” Harry mumbled, moving his hand away from your lips. “Answer ‘em, babe. I’m sure neither of them wants to see me balls deep in their son.” He couldn’t help but snicker when you smacked his chest.

“Welcome back! I’m in my room- Harry decided to stop by while you were gone!” You were praying to Merlin himself that what you two were doing wasn’t obvious.

“Ok! Have fun!” Remus called up the stairs. 

“I bet they're doing a lot more than playing wizard chess.” Sirius’ voice echoed through the house easily. “Ow! I thought you loved me!”

“Sirius, stop!”

“What? I was just being honest! Don’t you remember when we were in the dorm and you were gladly basically screaming my na-.”

“We can hear you!” You yelled out, your hands covering your ears. If your face wasn’t flushed before, it was now and Harry’s snickering did not help the situation a lick. There was a moment of silence before either of them spoke up again.

“Sorry boys!” 

You shifted on your feet while you pushed your forehead into the desk. Harry let out another soft chuckle, his hands rubbed up and down your back. 

“Do you wanna continue?”

“Does today end in a ‘y’?”

Harry snorted again before returning his lips to your ear and his hand crept over your mouth. 

“Better keep your mouth shut then, love. Would hate for them to see their precious baby boy taking cock like a champion.” He knew damn well you weren’t exactly good at holding your tongue. With that being your final warning, he started up again, his hips moving slow before quickly picking up speed. 

Harry let out a groan in your ear, loving how you shuddered and moaned into his palm when he angled his hips just right. He trailed his hot tongue across your neck before sucking a mark right at the base of your neck. 

Once again, your body turned to jello against the desk. You were teetering on the edge, your cock throbbing between your legs. You could tell by the way Harry bit down on your shoulder and how his hips twitched and stuttered between thrusts he was close too. 

Your jaw went slack when his dick hit your prostate head on, knocking you over the cliff you were already dangling on. Your moan was barely muffled by your boyfriend's palm but you didn’t really care. You knew your cum was making a mess on the floor, but that was just another too far away though in your skull. 

 Harry chased after his release and soon found it with a quiet grunt of your name. He rode out his high before collapsing on top of you. 

“Merlin’s beard, Harry. When did you get so heavy?” You let out a tired laugh, your hand going through you sweat soaked hair. You’d have to take another shower. 

“When you forced me to try out for quidditch.” Harry rolled his eyes and pulled out of you slowly. He picked you off the desk and laid you across your bed. “Did you have a good time?” He asked as he crawled in, laying next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on your chest. 

“Oh, no, babe. Worst sex of my life.” Sarcasm dripped out of you like honey as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. You pulled your wand out from under your pillow and used a quick cleaning charm on the desk and wooden floor before magic-ing the softest blanket from your collection over you.

“Hey, don’t be a jerk.” Harry pinched your hip before glancing up at you. He smiled at your half asleep state and let out a chuckle. “Go to sleep.” 

“No, I’m no-” You got interrupted by a yawn, “Ok, ok, sleep sounds nice.” You held onto Harry tighter before reaching over to gently take off his glasses, fold the legs in and set them on your bedside table. “Only if you sleep too.”

“What about your dads?”

“Judging by the creaking of the bed in the room across the hall, I think we’re good.”

“Ew.”

“It gets worse on their anniversary.” You smirked at how Harry’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“Ew, ew, no. Stop.”

“Oh yeah! I could tell you stories!” You laughed out.

“Please don’t!” Harry pressed his nose into your collarbone, trying to hide from your dirty smirk as you went on to tell him stories, despite his yells of protest. While you went on to torture the raven haired male, you didn’t notice the snitch sitting perfectly between the legs of the hand made lion plushie from your old blanket.

[whatisgoingonpaul]

Lost boys backstorys

I made a post while ago on my ideas of the boys past but now I want to update it. I just want you to know I’m still a firm Prequel lover/follower however we don’t get much info on the boys Pre 1906, so that’s what this is for! However personally I would have had more Max so this is going to be both pre 1906 but also include relationship with Max a bit.

I am also including my personal ideas on Last names and age. However I am under the idea that they wouldn’t know/take their last name seriously if the did know it cause- ya know. Orphans. This is going to be lengthy and I’m going to pin it, not just because I want it seen but also to remind myself in fic writing (when I don’t follow these ideas in a fic it’s gonna be Marked as Au- as I’ll probably be messing around with a different past.)

I’ll be doing appearance but only physical as there’s some stylistic changes. For clothing? Honestly so thinking workers clothes/cowboy esc

Also! Their stories are all going to kinda intertwine so I’d there’s not enough info under one theirs a solid chance there’ll be more for them under someone else’s!

David Hardy-

Age(as of 1906): 19

Born: 1887

Appearance: Average height, his hair a dirty blond- near reddish and is around shoulder length. Bearded. (Think doc but with slightly updated clothing)

Backstory:

David Is the only of the boys to grow up with at least one of his parents, living with his mother until her death when he was around 7. They lived in a decent, though cramped little space in San Francisco, by the docks. His father worked on and off- a not so stable style ending in him getting involved in not doing saviory things - getting arrested. His mother worked as a washerwoman. David worked the streets awhile, as a young child now left alone, he learned to pickpocket and live off what he could manage. It was around this time he had found Marko- doing the same thing he was - though arguably less effectively do to his more sporadic nature. At around age 10 the two became extremely close and rather inseparable, Marko even looking up to him despite being the older of the pair. However david wasn’t one to living completely criminal like... he did NOT want to be his father, which lead him to not drinking , EVER. (Even as a vampire he still doesn’t do alcohol.) he poked towards more honest work, also forcing Marko into doing the same , which he wasn’t exactly thrilled about- but did anyway. Tried. David did a lot of work on the docks, odd jobs and stuff like that- but it never paid even half as good as nabbing a wallet or cheating at cards. He wouldn’t be his father- he’d be better- better then all the nobody’s. More level headed then Marko though  ambitious, big headed and still wildly child like- eventually Paul , Dwayne and Jasper joining the pair. Well now, David had himself a full on gang. Never robbery, not that far. The group pickpocketed , cheated at any sort of game or match, that sort of thing... they were still young after all. Smart enough not to go wild like some famous bandit (Though David will admit to his slight admiration of Billy the kid.). He’s a quick learner, and when he learns something- he learns it well- becomes a damn near expert. When he is good at something he is good at it. He is the leader out of the groups mutual respect towards him , quick thinker. Notable flaws: Huge ego, hopeless romantic.

Marko Connelly-

Age(as of 1906): 20

Born: 1886

Appearance: on the shorter side, golden - darker brown hair in this fluff of ringlets it’s long about just past his shoulder blades and typically tied back. Usually dirty somehow (Think Poli but with longer hair and updated clothing)

Backstory:

Born to a rich family , one of those who moved from east to west and actually did make it big. He was a pretty little thing, more a doll to his mother then particularly a child- only taken from Nanny to be dotted over or photos taken. However around the age of 3 or 4 things had tipped, scandal! Missing. That is what the newspapers said anyway he was found missing- was it that he was given away? Or stolen? He was never particularly a child to be quite or sit still or anything such as that... so who is to say? Marko doesn’t remember a lick of that either way as he was far far to young for it but he does remember being alone. This is how he had grown his attachment to birds, they always stuck around. He grew comfortable with being alone, having himself to depend on, getting good at grabbing what he needs- A mansion is stark contrast to dirty winding alleyways. He was always cursed with his looks- even filth covered at 6 he could make sad eyes and tend to swindle whatever he wanted... but he wasn’t completely quick. He’d get in trouble, his face memorable he could rarely pass the same trick again. At 11 David came across him, the two started working and living together (that is where they could find a place to sleep.) he sort of gained this complex. He felt he owed David , in some strange sense he became attached at the hip- a helper, a second- almost servant like the guy had saved his life and he is now the others. It didn’t help that at a young age, Marko had developed what was come to be understood as a deep crush- at times as teens this was reciprocated. As loyal and loving as he was to the other male he wasn’t nearly as cautious, as rule following... he had come to despise authority, to despise the fancy, the rich all of the crowd. He was never sure why. Even regular work got on his hate list... but he gave in and would try to do a normal amount pf work.. it never really worked as there was something, how he would sass, how he looked or smelled or spoke (neither him nor David really spoke ‘proper’ English - meaning no slang or accent). Around when Paul came things started to shift in the group, more mouths- more work and more thinking. Oh yea David and his thinking. Marko is a bit hostile right off the bat when it comes to people he doesn’t know, eventually he cracks and will be more loyal to you then to anyone you’d ever know. He opened up to Paul, a lot sooner then he would have thought the guy was funny and sweet - lil stupid too. David had this grand idea of a little gang, naturally Marko was all for it because illegal activity is fun- it was like a game to him. A liked stealing from pockets and playing distraction for David, as time grew he began to hate how young and gentle his face appeared to be. He LOATHED absolutely appalled the pity glances he would get, the hand outs the whole “oh you poor fragile little dear 🥺” he hated being babied and still does. He hated the stares he got on the opposite direction ... at first, it was funny, it was nice to be wanted in that sense rather then some baby. However... it grew creepy, it wasn’t women or a fella his age...it was more the gaze of older men. Marko detested it so much- he KNEW he’s seen what some of the guys... even younger then him ended up doing- he could see the occasional look in david’s eye. No he would never really consider....no. Paul was more his shoulder to cry on, someone to go to , to ramble to to speak with and just be with. The two were touchy, always leaning against eachother or grabbing their arms, laughing or sleeping or- eventually it became more then casual, it was serious. The two started ‘dating’ at some point- none of them were ever serious on titles but it was good to put a word to it.

Paul campbell-

Age (as of 1906) : 18

Born: 1888

Appearance: tall and lengthy, he has a mole on his left cheek, he has stubble/shadow opposed to a beard. He’s also usually dirty, dirty blond , long hair think Buffalo bill with volume and his hairline not receding

Backstory:

Grew up in a orphanage, hundreds of kids all stuffed together into a few rooms, often sharing beds and everything else. He was never a still child, he would always figit and move and shift - whenever he’s supposed to be quite or still like lessons or Mass he just couldn’t. This - got him most of the attention from the mistresses and overseers- much more quick to slap then to explain... he was docile , quick to flinch and try and stop. Never worked well. Once you get to 7-8ish you work if not adopted by a decent age. Sweeping, factory work he tried it all. He was particularly desensitized to violence at a extremely young age while working in a textile factory- he’s seen a kids arm come clean off. Terror turns to fascination eventually. At some point he’d stopped returning at night finding David and Marko at 15, he started hanging with them- it was safer in numbers that sort of thing- Paul could read a bit , David could write a bit- the three worked it out together. always so distracted- the others learned right off the bat he wasn’t built for pick pocketing no matter how hard he begged about it. Instead he’d do real jobs- sweeping , fighting, placing crooked bets that sort of thing. He always complains. A massive softie since he was young, Paul can’t quite handle being on his own- he’s used to having at least one other person around him at all times causing him to get quite hooked onto the other boys. He hovers around the same places. He is also a fan of dancing- Paul- is music obsessed the moment he heard the first noise of any sort of music he was hooked. He is one about fun- being restrained from it for so long as a child- always to sit out and watch or to think about whatever he did.. oh. Dancing, drinking, drugs, clubs, all of it is his kind of deal- he would drag the others with him when they had a bit of extra cash to deal with. Dwayne and his brother, when they joined on he was instantly accepting, unlike Marko he didn’t have the deep seeded trust issues, he was immediately touchy and happy to share a joke or a comment no matter the glares. He is the one to get Dwayne to lighten up a little bit, to smile he loves to see that smile :). He got around to dating Marko, when they finally put a label on it he was really giddy about it, making jokes and comments- he adores the little names like ‘sweetheart’ or ‘bo’ - he eventually gets around to just plain ‘sugar’ . Marko is the one who really entertains Paul’s love for dancing, the two of them trying to get the others to do something lighten up- eventually their pawing would bare fruit. Paul makes the best out of the worst situation, even if they end up sleeping on the beach more often then not- he somehow makes it seam alright. Except that one time he had gotten sand in Dwayne’s eye and all hell broke lose. He is the current youngest member of the group after Jaspers passing.

Dwayne Maher

Age (as of 1906) : 22

Born: 1884

Appearance: Tall, muscular , tanned(I will establish this now but Dwayne is Native American.) long Black hair with burnet highlights, reaches half down his back.

Backstory:

Born out more Midwest unlike the others he was not born in San Francisco, eldest son of a decent sized family of four kids. Do to conflict he and his younger brother skipped town, skipped state and fled to California.. better options you know?. He’s strong built, hard working and good with his hands though, rather playful most of the time. He looks after his younger brother closely, when there is work they work the same place, when there is not they both still do the same. Quickly took to David and the gang , having a tight knit bond with each of them. He was sort of the muscle - if there was trouble, he knew how to fight and it would likely work better then the knives the boys carried around or the gun David could barely shoot. It was Paul who got him to open up more, about himself and just to speak in general, he’s much more under his breath and jokingly commenting then he is saying something out loud- however if he dislikes something or thinks it stupid you WILL know it. Like David he carries the occasional thought of caution, however he’s not nearly as quick to worry. Maher is not his actual last name , nor does he ever mention it- he simply uses this one when it’s needed as some sort of identification or document. He’s surprisingly good at money, he ends up counting with David and is better at budgeting no matter how he may want or need something. He doesn’t speak on his past as he tries to make it seam he has little of one, he likes to make things mysterious he finds it amusing.

Jasper Maher-

Age (as of 1906) : 16

Born: 1890

Died: 1906

Appearance: shoulder length black hair, typically tied back and braided , tanned, string bean.

Backstory:

The younger brother of Dwayne who is much much more open on how he grew up, casually mentioning things he learned from his parents of his brother (he doesn’t remember his parents that much.) young hot shot sort of kid who’d much rather have action then he would some serious job, loud, energy filled and one for violence- however he’s surprisingly sweet. He often got himself and his brother into trouble. He was a quick and fast young child who grew surprisingly closest with Marko, the two having a habit for breaking every possible rule they could manage together. Their close friendship lead to Marko naming one of his birds after Jasper long after his passing.

Max-

Unknown age but he is seen as extremely old and powerful

Relationship with the boys:

After finding them he has decided to take them under his metaphorical and physical wing, acting as a sort of guardian. Food, clothing, shelter, he was everything the boys didn’t have and was surprisingly inviting in the beginning. ‘I do this for you, you on occasion do this for me’ sort of deal. He wasn’t a leader so much as he was a usual figure, the boys knew and understood him to be above them... so they followed you know? The whole new vampirism thing and the clueless kids- he had to explain and show nearly everything... especially to David, he wasn’t so much harsh to him as he was strict- more of a lead by example sort. Honestly he was father like in a strange sense- that someone is almost like a parent but very much your boss. See... with Max’s strength, there’s this almost automatic level of control- you can’t say no to him. You literally can’t not do what he asks (some supernatural level messing-). There’s something dark about him, in him that the boys still don’t understand in the 80s- but it scares them. It’s strange, it feels unlike him... he seams just like a Dorky , sweet man until...

Some random thoughts that don’t really fit anything

The boys are explicitly religious, past what you’d hear in passing or remember from growing up. Saying “oh god” and respecting religious officials are about what you’ll get

Whoopsies! This was a extremely long post lmao. Sorry for the long read but I could go on and on about them this was just a small blurb to all of it. If you ever wanna hear more do tell me. Also tell me if I should add tw for anything as I know I got a little dark at some points.

[rhysismydaddy]

An Artful Revenge Pt. 1

First part of The Archeron Damnation series. 

~Rhysand~

Have you ever had everything you’ve ever wanted dropped in your lap like a present? 

It makes it so easy you almost don’t even want it anymore. 

Before today, this had never happened to me. For over thirty years, I’ve worked and fought and killed for everything I’ve wanted. Nothing about my life has been easy. 

Until today. 

Until a young, beautiful woman paused to look at a piece of art, oblivious to the monster who stood behind her. 

As soon as I looked up and saw her, I felt like an anvil fell on my chest and robbed me of air. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

For the first time in my long, miserable life, I was utterly speechless as Feyre Archeron tilted her head contemplatively, as if the slab of paint was something that required great concentration. 

Her focus was so singular it gave me more than enough time to figure out what I wanted to do. 

But I couldn’t concentrate enough to even do that. Not yet. For now, I just took her in. Photos didn’t do her justice, honestly. Sandy blonde hair, a slight frame more than pleasing to look at from the back, defined cheekbones, full lips. Beautiful. 

It was almost unfair for someone like her to be so beautiful.

She had a hand on her chest and was completely still as she looked at the work in front of her, like she almost couldn’t stand the rush of emotions it gave her. 

I understood the feeling. 

My friends often tell me I should go on the road as a mind reader or fortune teller or some other bullshit. The point is, I’m pretty decent at reading people. 

And just from the way the woman in front of me is looking at an overpriced, ugly piece of art, I know she’s innocent. 

She has no idea who she used to share a bed with, no idea what kind of evil she invited into her life with a smile. 

I also know I can’t let it change things in the slightest. Innocent or not, beautiful or not, I’ve been trying to find the perfect moment to worm my way into her life and turn it fucking upside down. 

And she’s just handed it to me on a silver platter. 

I’ve been looking for her, and I’ve finally found her. 

She’s mine.

~Feyre~

“You like it?”

Gasping and pressing my hand harder against my chest to calm my racing heart, I spin around to face whoever just asked such an obvious question. 

And the first thing I can think is, He’s more beautiful than the painting. 

The stranger’s casually leaning against the opposite wall, hands in his pockets, confidence and wealth and class draped over him like a very impressive, very handsome mask. 

He’s concealed in a jet black suit, but somehow I can tell he’s impressively built; it’s like strength and power are radiating off of him. His face probably took the gods years to craft, the sharp angles of his jaw and slash of his brows perfectly creating the most alluring thing I’ve ever seen. 

Dark hair, piercing violet eyes that scan me head to toe, and smirking, sensual lips complete his features. 

He’s the most attractive male I’ve ever seen. And I’m an art major who frequently finds herself painting models, so that’s saying something. 

“You like it,” he states, whatever he finds on my face taking away the need for a question mark. 

“I do,” I confirm, forcing myself to turn back to the painting and stop gawking like an idiot. 

He surprises me by asking openly, “Why?” 

The painting in question is one of the most revered paintings in the world: Dancers in Blue by Degas. But he’s asking in a way that makes it clear he genuinely doesn’t know why people pay to look at it.

Running my hand through my hair, I try and put it into words. “There’s just so much... energy in it. The background’s nothing but a bunch of paint splatters, and yet you can feel it almost. The dancer’s excitement, the energy of the crowd. It’s breathtaking.”

There’s a beat of silence, and I cringe inwardly, thinking of how weird that probably sounded. 

Then, “Would you like it?”

Only four words and they almost knock me on my ass. I spin back around so fast he chuckles, eyes wide, and sputter, “Would I what?”

I mean, it’s clear he’s rich, but there’s rich, and then there’s buying a Degas rich. 

“I was planning on buying it anyway. It should belong to someone who loves it as much as you obviously do.”

“What?” I repeat, still not understanding why he would offer something like that to a total stranger.

“I presumed you to be intelligent, but if you keep asking that question, I might have to amend that.”

I narrow my eyes, somehow intelligent enough to pick up on the insult. “I’m just confused. I mean, you look rich and all, but that painting’s worth $45 million dollars. And you just asked...”

“If you want it.”

Putting my hands on my hips, I regard him speculatively. “Which psych ward did you break out of, exactly?” 

He smiles, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “The way I see it, you have two options. You can accept the painting and stare at it from home, or I can buy it and hang it with the other one and never give it a second thought.”

My mind can’t stop running, and I think if I wasn’t determined to not completely embarrass myself, I’d collapse to the ground and sob at the impobability of this situation. “What do you mean the other one? You already have a Degas?”

“The pink one,” he confirms casually, flicking a nonexistent fleck of dust off his jacket. 

“You have Dancers in Pink?” He nods, lips twitching at the look on my face. “And why, exactly, are you buying priceless pieces of art if you don’t like them?”

“It’s not priceless. You just told me it’s worth $45 million.” I scowl at the non-answer, and he shrugs. “Someone I don’t care for likes them.”

I connect the dots slowly. “So you buy them so he can’t.”

He nods. 

My mouth falls open, making him smile again. It’s dangerously attractive and distracting, but I still demand, “Who the fuck are you?”

The stranger laughs outright at that, strolling forward and offering me a tan, tattooed hand with practiced ease. I notice there’s a platinum, engraved ring on his pointer finger, and I stare at it for a moment because it looks strangely familiar. 

He seems to pause as I look at it, holding his breath. I’m probably acting like a total weirdo, so I snap out of it and take his hand. 

Because he’s rich and confident and beautiful, he feels entitled to drag his calloused thumb across the back of my hand. 

And because I’m poor and stupid and at the end of the day, just a woman, I blush. Which only gets worse as he notices and smirks. 

“My name is Rhysand.”

“Rhysand what, exactly? Rockefeller? Vanderbilt? Carnegie?” I run out of rich families and fall silent, and he gives me a look like I’m the most amusing thing he’s ever come across. 

“Rhysand Azara. When you google me, you won’t find anything of consequence, I’m afraid.”

The way he says when instead of if makes me blush again, because I’d been waiting for him to leave so I could pull out my cracked, struggling little phone and do exactly that. 

He looks at me expectantly, and I realize I haven’t said a word, just held onto his hand like a toddler being led across the street. “Oh, I’m Feyre.”

Rhysand just raises an eyebrow. 

“Feyre Archeron.”

“And what would I find if I were going to google your name?”

I notice his statement has an if, but I answer anyway, stating facts nervously like an army cadet reporting for duty. “I’m an art major at UChicago. From Missouri.”

“What else?”

“There’s really not much else.”

He tsks, telling me this answer is unacceptable, but doesn’t press it. Instead he shocks the hell out of me once again. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

It isn’t a question, but it isn’t quite a demand, either. It’s a statement, and it’s said like he already knows what my response is going to be. 

But like I just told him, I’m a college student. 

Which means for the past three years, I’ve been dealing with college boys. 

I’ve been asked to “hang,” “smash,” and even to go to coffee on a few rare, wonderful instances. But never, in my entire life, have I been asked---or told--to go to dinner by someone like him. 

I realize it’s because I’ve never met anyone like him. 

Even my ex-boyfriend, who’d been well off and older, was nothing like him. Compared to the man in front of me, everyone else seemed... juvenile. 

They were boys, toddlers even, compared to the man still gripping my hand.

It prompts me to ask, “How old are you?”

He smiles. “Too old for you, I’m sure. Have dinner with me anyway. For the sake of the painting.”

I’m halfway sure I’m in the middle of a fever dream, about to wake up covered in sweat and wondering what the hell just happened, because this cannot be real. 

“You’re... are you actually... you’re offering to give me a $45 million painting if I have dinner with you?” I sound incredulous and wheezy to my own ears, but I don’t even care. 

Who the hell is this guy? 

“You’ll be my second most expensive date.”

“You’re insane.” I look down to where he still holds my hand, entire focus narrowing on the strength in his grip. How would it feel to have him grip me somewhere else? Rhysand gives me a look like he knows what I’m thinking, so I look at the ceiling. Then declare, “I can’t have dinner with you.”

It almost hurt to say it, honestly, because I really love that painting. 

He waits until I look back down at his face before asking, “Why not?” 

Blushing to high hell, I murmur, “It feels a little like... prostitution.”

Rhysand throws his head back and laughs, a full, wonderful sound I hadn’t been expecting. It’s easy and contagious, and I find myself grinning, even though what I said was true. 

“Dinner, gorgeous, was the deal.” He leans in close and whispers, “You coming home with me won’t have anything to do with it.”

I push him away, mind set on giving myself a few feet away from him to compose myself, but I’m so dizzy and confused and strangely turned on I almost fall. His hands shoot out, landing on the bare skin of my shoulders, and I pause. 

And really, really contemplate my life. 

Yesterday I was sitting on the floor of my dusty apartment in my underwear, eating Ramen and struggling to figure out what the fuck to put in the background of my painting. Today I’m being asked to dinner by a probable-billionaire. On the condition I accept a very expensive form of bribery. 

“I’m not going home with you, but I’ll have dinner with you.” He starts to smile, so I cut him off, “Only if you promise to not buy the painting.”

His brows narrow, a silent demand for information. 

“I come here almost every day to see it anyway,” I explain. “Besides, there’s no way I can accept it. It’ll get stolen or damaged or... I just can’t accept it. And the thought of you putting it in some forgotten hallway depresses me.”

He sighs dramatically and re-puts his hand out. “No painting. Just dinner.”

“And no sex.”

A very male look crosses his features. “We’ll discuss that later, I think.”

I roll my eyes but shake hands with him, a strange sense of finality settling over me. I shake it off, telling myself the bare mention of having sex with him is why I’m so nervous. 

~

Four hours later, I stand at the door, purse clutched in one hand, keys in the other. I’m staring at the door, practically foaming at the mouth, waiting for a knock on the other side to hopefully shock me out of my crazed state. 

I’ve been like this for ten minutes already, for some reason not wanting him to wait for a second after he got here. Or maybe I just don’t think he’s actually coming. 

Maybe I’ve been on some horrible practical jokes show, and Rhysand Azara isn’t even a real person. I’ll probably end up on television, blushing and beyond naïve, having been convinced a man who looked like a male model wanted to buy me a Degas. 

I snort, shaking my head at myself. And then almost fall down when a soft yet somehow insistent knock sounds through my small apartment. 

“Holy fuck, he’s here.”

I have no idea why I state it aloud, to myself no less, but I feel like it should be said. Hell, it should be written down in history books. If I kept a diary, I’d write in bold, underlined letters: I HAVE A DATE WITH A VERY STRANGE, VERY HANDSOME MAN.

After fluffing my hair and checking my makeup in a mirror, I stop stalling and open the door. 

He, of course, looks like sex on a goddamn spoon. And for a split second--just a moment, I swear--I debate grabbing him by his expensive lapels, dragging him backward into my apartment, and finding out what his mouth feels like against mine. 

“Feyre,” he greets, snapping me out of my perverted daydream. “You look beautiful.”

I know it’s dumb to be flattered, because it’s fairly standard to tell a girl she looks nice when you pick her up for a date, but it does my ego no harm because how I look right now took some fucking work. 

I shaved from the eyebrows down, exfoliated, scrubbed, cleansed, plucked, and spent thirty minutes deciding what to wear. 

I’d taken a gamble he’d wear a suit and dressed to match in a black dress, unremarkable save for the very low back, and simple heels. 

I step outside with him, grateful for the warm weather, and turn to lock the door. 

Rhysand makes a humming sound, and I freeze as I feel a finger drag down my spine, stopping right at the edge of the fabric. Which happens to be very, very close to something indecent. 

“Beautiful,” he states again, and hell if I don’t feel like it. 

I finally manage to get the lock closed, then spin around to face him. Up close, there’s silver flecks in his eyes, like starlight. Oh, and he smells amazing. Something manly and wintery and not sold in a bottle. 

I. Am in. So much. Trouble. 

I have no idea why this man has taken an interest in me, but I know it can only end in one way: me in love, him long gone. 

But even though I know it, I’m ready. Five minutes with him makes me feel more alive than I ever have, and even though it’s a disaster in the making, I can’t bring myself to care. 

He offers his hand and pulls me towards a--surprise--black car, one that looks expensive. After depositing me in the passenger seat, he goes around and climbs in beside me. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m making a guess about something.”

I glance over at him. “Have you ever realized you don’t give actual answers?”

"Yes,” he responds with a grin, turning the stereo on. 

Twenty minutes later, I’m practically bursting at the seems to know where he’s taking me. 

What kind of guess is he making? Also, what does that even mean?

He pulls up in front of a nice looking place I’ve never been to--again, surprise--and comes around to open my door. Despite the crowd, as soon as the hostess sees the man leading me through the restaurant, we’re ushered into the back. 

Turns out the place has private rooms. It’s quiet and cozy, and I’m pretty sure only the president gets this kind of treatment. 

Once I’m seated across from him, menu in hand, I have to ask, “Was your guess correct?”

“I don’t know, do you like French food?”

I smile because j’adore French food, and he grins back because he somehow knew that already. 

The waiter comes to ask for our drink order, and I gesture at Rhysand for him to order mine. I know nothing about wine, and he obviously does, because he orders something fancy and expensive sounding. 

There’s soft music playing in the background, candles in the corner, and a handsome man sitting across from me. It’s the most romantic situation I’ve ever been in, hands down. 

He braces an arm on the table, watching as I take a small sip of the wine. Trying to maintain some sort of maturity, I say, “You have good taste.”

“I do,” he replies, but his eyes are on me, not the wine. “Are you almost done with school?”

“One more year,” I answer, trying not to cheer as I say it. Four years of education for an art major is kind of ridiculous to me, but it would’ve been stupid to turn down a full scholarship. 

Rhysand hums, nodding. Even though he asked, I somehow feel like he already knew that. Weird. 

“Did you go to college?”

He gives me a strange look. “My formal education stopped around seventh grade.”

It’s an effort to keep my jaw off the table, and I’m proud of myself when I say mildly, “Impressive.”

“Being uneducated impresses you?”

I scowl. “No, but having everything you do despite not being handed anything is.”

His face stays impassive, but there’s a twinkle of respect in his eyes. The waiter comes back and asks what we want to eat, and because the menu I’ve barely even looked at is in French, I get the same thing as Rhysand. 

When we’re alone again, I ask, “Okay, spill. How’d you know I love French food?”

Rhysand shrugs. “I’m good at reading people.”

I wave a hand, because that wasn’t answer enough, and he continues on a sigh. “You’re kind of... easy to read. No offense.”

“Interesting you say ‘No offense’ after calling a woman easy,” I note.

He laughs, but points out, “You’re not easy. I offer to buy you a Degas and you won’t even come home with me.”

It’s my turn to shrug. “Once again, you haven’t answered my question.”

There’s a long beat of silence. “You like French food because you like Impressionist art, and both Degas and Monet were French. Your dream vacation also happens to be Paris, and eating French food makes you feel closer to that goal.”

My mouth drops open, and he laughs soundly at the blatant display of shock, but before I can ask how the hell he knew that, the waiter comes with our food. Identical displays of delicious-smelling pasta are set in front of us. 

I reach for my fork, but he grabs our plates and switches them. 

When I raise a brow, he shrugs and says, “In case you were thinking about poisoning me.”

I snort in a very ladylike manner, tucking into my food. A soft moan escapes me, and he looks up at me, bite halfway between his plate and mouth. 

“Uh, sorry,” I murmur, blushing down the neckline of my dress. 

Rhysand just smiles, making me feel young once again. “Don’t be. I quite enjoy the sound of a pleasured woman.”

Rolling my eyes, I take another bite, managing to refrain from sounding too pleasured. “So, Paris. How’d you know?”

He doesn’t really give me an answer, just says, “I bet you have a little Eifel Tower trinket on your desk and everything.”

An embarrassed laugh bubbles out of me, because I do. I totally do. I’ve had it for three years and look at it every time I’m tempted to drop out.

“What do you do for a living?” I ask, trying to get us back on even ground. I feel like he somehow knows everything about me, and even though I’ll have to ask questions, I’m finding out at least one thing about him. 

“I’m in real estate.”

I nod, ready to just accept that answer. Then I look around us, remembering how crowded the restaurant was, and start giggling. “You own this restaurant, don’t you?”

A sigh. Busted. “Yes, I do.” 

I tsk and give him a judgmental look. “You can’t take me somewhere you own for a date. That’s cheating.”

He takes a sip of his wine. “How so?”

“It just is.” I sigh, just to tease him. “Shame. I was feeling so romanticized, maybe enough so to go home with you. Not anymore, though.”

He rolls his eyes, the gesture making him younger. “Eat your food.”

I do, and by the end, I’m so full I probably look pregnant. “Holy fuck, that was good.”

Rhysand smiles, like it’s adorable that I cursed, and pushes back his empty plate. “Dessert?” I shake my head. “Coffee?” 

“I’m so full I might die.”

Rising with fluid grace, he extends a hand. “Then come with me.”

Not bothering to ask questions at this point, I just take his hand and follow him out, noticing the city has a slight chill now that the sun’s gone down.

“Why is it women can never plan for the sun going down?” he ponders, wrapping me in his suit jacket.

“It’s a test to see if you’ll let us freeze to death.”

Rhysand chuckles and slides his hand into mine, so casually and simply it seems like a mundane thing we do every day.

I know I’ve known him for a total of five hours, but everything about today has been... easy. Natural. It’s like we just click, and I’m not stupid enough to question it right now. 

“You’re quite the gentleman,” I remark, bringing up our intertwined fingers to look at the tattoos on his skin. He’s silent for a minute, and when I glance over, he’s looking at the ground as we walk, a strange look on his face. “What?”

“You’re probably the only person in this entire world who believes that.”

I scoff, because the idea that the man next to me, holding my hand and running his thumb across my fingers, is anything but a gentleman is absurd.

“What other paintings do you have?” 

It’s a question I’ve been dying to ask since he mention his other Degas. 

“It’s a shame you’re determined to not go home with me. You could see them yourself.”

I drop his hand and shove his shoulder, my lips twitching as he laughs. “You asshole. You’re leveraging access to a private collection for sex? Men are horrible.”

Rhysand chuckles, throwing an arm around me and pulling me close. “I have a Monet,” he whispers in my ear, placing a featherlight kiss to my temple. “And a Rembrandt.” 

“I hate you.”

He releases me and grabs my hand again, then pulls me toward a dark alley I hadn’t noticed he’d been guiding me toward. “Um... where are you taking me?”

He, of course, doesn’t tell me. No, he shushes me. 

“I will not be quiet while you drag me down some seedy alley!” I’m beginning to panic a bit, because besides spending way too much time alone, I like to watch Law and Order, and this is turning into the beginning of a familiar episode. 

“Is this because I said I won’t have sex with you tonight?” Before he can respond, I blurt, “Because I probably will at some point, I’m just kind of nervous-”

“I’m not going to murder you, Feyre darling.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. Now shut up.”

Pouting like a sullen child, I shut my mouth and accept my fate. He tugs me further down the black alley, and eventually I can’t even see. Can he? Is he some sort of vampire? Am I really asking myself that?

The glow of his phone illuminates the dark for a second, and I catch the time 11:59. “One more minute.”

“Until...?”

He’s silent for thirty-eight seconds, then he says, “Until this.”

Suddenly, the space above us lights up, colors shooting all around us in a kaleidoscope of reds and blues and greens. 

Gasping, I look up to see the air above us full of glass lanterns, the surfaces painted with swirling black paint. The alley is covered wall to wall, and the end result gives the walls around us beautiful designs and dimension.

I laugh in surprise, twirling around to take in the entire place. “What is this?”

“We’re in the artist’s quadrant of the city. I don’t know why, but they do this every night, exactly at midnight.”

I spin around in a circle, arms out, smiling from ear to ear. He watches with a grin, leaning against one of the walls casually. I walk down the alley, eyes up, taking in everything. 

It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. 

The lanterns are each unique, like they were done by different people. Some are solid colors, others are mixtures. 

I look back over at Rhysand, beams of red and blue and pink bouncing off his face, a smile playing at his full lips. It’s obvious he took me here because he knew I’d love it, and it makes me feel insanely special. 

Still giddy with happiness, I bound over to him, put my hands on either side of his face, and press my lips to his. 

For a second, we probably look like idiots, just standing there pressing our smiles together. 

Then, like we’re in synch, the smiles fall away and we start to actually kiss. 

His hands slip inside the jacket, linking at the small of my back and pulling me closer to him. He’s still leaning against the wall, back against the brick, and I put my hands on his chest, fingers digging into the corded muscle I find there. 

Rhysand pulls back for a minute, traces his fingers over my face lightly. He looks so surprised and confused, I’m tempted to ask what’s wrong. But then his mouth is back on mine, moving more fervently, and I forget all about it. 

His hands cup my jaw, tilting my face to where he wants it, then slide in my hair. 

He tastes like honey and citrus, and I slide my tongue in his mouth, desperate for more. I moan at the taste of him, and he suddenly moves, like the sound unleashed something in him. 

One hand grabs the back of my thigh, the other wrapping around my waist, and then I’m the one against the wall. The brick digs into my shoulder blades, but I hardly even notice, because he wraps my leg around his hips and presses us together. 

His mouth is sliding down my jaw, sucking on the spot between my neck and shoulder softly. I make a low sound, slip my hands in his hair, and prepare to eat him alive. 

And then the world goes dark. 

The lanterns above us turn off, casting us in darkness, but we don’t stop for a few minutes. When we’re both breathless, he pulls away with a low chuckle and releases my leg. 

I slide down him slowly, leaning against the wall for support. 

What the hell was that? 

Did I really just make out with a complete stranger in an alley? 

The answer to that question--and the one of if I’d do it again--is hell yes.  

He runs a hand over his lips, almost in disbelief, then takes a healthy step back and holds out a hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

I take another look at the disheveled hair, swollen lips, rumpled shirt. And I know without a doubt that if he were on my doorstep, looking at me with those bedroom eyes, I’d pull him inside without a thought. 

“I think I should take a cab.”

Rhysand smiles, knowing exactly why. “I’m flattered.”

“Shut up,” I laugh, pushing him away and starting back toward the busier street. 

Even though the street’s deserted, he manages to hail a cab easily, the bright yellow car slowing to a stop next to us. I open the back door, kiss his cheek, and slip inside. “Thank you for dinner. Even though you cheated.”

He rolls his eyes and shuts the door behind me. “I’ll call you.”

I nod, feeling a little ridiculous for how happy that statement makes me. Tonight was... like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It was just dinner, I remind myself, but it doesn’t do any good. 

It feels like the beginning of something. 

The cab driver glances at me in the rearview mirror and laughs. “That good, huh?”

I don’t even respond because yeah. That good. 

I’m halfway home before I realize I never even gave him my number. And I honestly wonder if I’ll ever see Rhysand Azara again. 

_________________________________________________

Part 2

@elorcan-trash @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2​ @claralady​ @tswaney17​ @rowanisahunk​ @superspiritfestival​ @thegoddessofyou​ @jlinez​ @studyliketate​ @over300books​ @bamchickawowow​ @justgiu12​ @maastrash​ @aesthetics-11​ @b00kworm​ @sleeping-and-books​ @musicmaam​ @hizqueen4life​ @maybekindasortaace​

[cottoncandyjester]

This might be an odd request but...would Theodore be fine meeting Y/N's family? For all the yanderes, how would they react to Y/N saying, "Alright I want you to meet my family." And the yandere is confuse cause they've been together for quite a few years (let's say 5) Y/N might say, "My family is very nice, they are just curious on who you are."

Okay so I don't know if you are aware...but my yanderes are all chaotic as hell so this is going to go ✨GREAT✨

Theodore

He is instantly curious and low-key excited

He wants to know what your family is like and how they sharp you as a person

He did find it super weird that you two were engaged and he has yet to meet a single family member of yours

Having dinner with your family is just him being on his best behavior

Of course he has his adorable nervous moments but he is definitely a charmer

"so, theodore is it tell us why you love [y/n] so much? What is your future together?"

Theodore twitched lightly at the question from one of your parents and he gave a nervous smile before pushing his glasses up and clearing his throat before he lovingly glanced your way.

"well, I'm hoping for children and with the wedding coming up there is a lot of excitement around that I do hope you all make it..family is everything to me"

"oh we should look at baby photos! Wouldn't that be fun?"

Theo had a fiery gaze at the thought of looking at you as a child he was way too excited for that though you looked like you wanted to die of embarrassment.

"m-man I'm stuffed we should go right babe?"

Theo looked your way before giving you a sweet grin, he clearly was showing you that you had absolutely zero choice in this matter

"now now sweetheart, we shouldn't leave so early after all I would love to catch a glimpse at what our children could look like?"

Hikaru

He didn't want you to meet his family so the fact that you didn't bring up yours didn't bother him

You guys have been together for a long time and neither of you met each other family

You were the one who wanted to change that after all

Hikaru... honestly wanted nothing to do with it but after four hours of arguing he agreed.

Hikaru is a beautiful boy so of course he uses that charm to his favorite

He is extra as hell so wooing your family comes with inviting them to a fancy restaurant dinner

You honestly want to choke him for how cocky he is but your family eats it up cause he knows exactly what to say

Of course his temper gets to him when it comes to you having younger siblings (if you don't just go with it lol)

Hikaru can only play nice for so long

You watched as your boyfriend smiles charmingly towards your family, he was quite the actor that's for sure. You couldn't help but hold back a laugh earning a dirty glare his direction it was clear that he hated this but he wanted you to stop bugging him about it.

He was actually doing good until he felt a sharp kick earning a harsh hiss of pain, his eyes shot towards your younger siblings this was the fifth time they kicked him and he was definitely about to snap.

"so hikaru, why don't you tell my family about how much you love me"

Your distracting words seemed to work a little to calm him down until he felt another kick, and he snapped.

"alright you brat, what the hell?!"

Oh boy here we go.

"it was an accident!"

"you've been doing it the entire time!"

"b-babe maybe you should coo-"

Your younger sibling stuck their tongue out at hikaru earning a low growl towards him as his left eye twitched, well at least the rest of your family found it to be amusing.

"you can't have [y/n]! I won't let you steal them away you flashy demon!"

"the hell did you call me?! And what do you mean I can't have them they are already mine!"

Well this night was going perfectly.

Axis

Mr lovable crybaby actually cries when you tell him that your family wants to meet him

Meeting your family means you're serious about the relationship

"axis, baby we've been together for six years... we're engaged."

"b-but you DO love me! I knew it!"

Honestly when your family comes over for dinner he is shaking cause he doesn't like uncomfortable question

He knows your family is sweet since you're sweet but still

He helped make dinner so his pride is on thin ice aka he will cry if they hate it

He is so nervous that he is just an anxiety mess

Super emotional and just so in love with you

"i-i love [y/n] so much, they are amazing and they smell nice and i-i just love them so so much! I wanna marry them of course!"

You honestly felt pretty bad for laughing while axis was being super emotional but he was just wayyy too cute at the moment.

"babe, I love you too"

You reached and held axis' hand still holding back laughing only to see him pout.

"d-dont laugh! I'm fragile!"

Seems your parents liked him though which was good though you did worry is they liked him too much you could already see them coming over for every holiday, though you were sure axis didn't mind.

Salem

Sooo you thinking about having salem meet your family is a horrible idea but they wanted to know who has your heart

Salem of course freaks out a tad when you tell him you invited your family over for brunch

He isn't normal in the slightest so he had to act normal in his own way

It was a bit of a trainwreck but you think it went well

"so salem...what exactly do you do for a living"

You twitched at that question since telling your family that your boyfriend is a camboy wasn't exactly the best way to introduce him.

You glanced at salem who was far too busy stuffing his mouth with waffles while humming, he was clearly not going to be of help at the moment.

"salem works from home a boring home job right babe?"

Salem gulped before chuckling darkly at your little lie, you gave him a light glare warning him to behave and he simply stuck his tongue out gliding two fingers along them adoring the feeling.

"mhmmm, such a gooood job~"

Salem was practically drooling just thinking about work tonight while you nervously laughed at his antics but honestly you did love him so his behavior in your eyes was kinda cute. He was like a puppy, a slobbering puppy.

"what plans do you two have in the future?"

Salem perked up clearly excited about this question and so he started to speak but you have a bad feeling

"lots and lots of hot steammmyyyy se-"

You covered the male's mouth ignoring the feeling of him slobbering and licking your hand

"o-oh babe you're such a jokester haha!"

You glared at salem who only gave you a lustful gaze right back, he knew fully well that you'll punish him for this and he was ready for that.

Prince

Yikes he is not used to meeting someone's family

Totally not ready

Sure you guys are preparing for a kid but that doesn't mean he's ready!

He totally freaks out when you say that you two are spending the weekend at your parents house for old times

I mean sure he likes the idea of screwing you in your old bedroom while your parents are asleep but like meeting them? He isn't sure about that one

He actually gets along with your family pretty well

"so prince was it? What an interesting name!"

Prince simply chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair before giving your family such a charming smile.

"is it? I suppose so. Though I like to think [y/n] loves me cause I'm so interesting"

You rolled your eyes at his antics, who knew a psychopath could be so damn Charming, they definitely adored his sparkling charm to a point where you were sure your siblings formed a new found crush.

Yuki

"babe my family wants to you"

"mhm..."

"tonight"

"oh."

He was far too busy drawing tattoo designs to focus but he knew what you were saying and he wasn't worried

Yuki is a blunt person he says whatever comes to mind cause he's too sleepy and depressed to deal with bullshit like being too nervous

"you must love [y/n] a lot to be with them this long are kids in the future?"

"hmmmm...dunno."

You glanced over at yuki who looked absolutely bored and like he wanted to crash at any moment but you knew thats how he always was.

"o-oh well what about marriage?"

"...maybe."

"what are some of your hobbies"

Yuki picked his head up and gave a soft grunt before he turned his head away thinking slowly about what to say

"I like...sleeping...eating..[y/n].."

Yuki suddenly rested his head on your shoulder with a sleepy hum now hugging you close clearly wanting to take a nap right there

"I like [y/n]..more than eating and sleeping though."

Rocket

Your buff himbo of a fiancee was honestly excited to meet your family

He was worried about being seen as an idiot meathead though...even though he was

He wasn't nervous in the slightest when the time came

He just said what was on his mind even if it was stupid

He really loved you and that's what mattered

"haha! Wow you're [y/n]'s family? Ooh! So cool!"

You watched your extremely tall and beefed up boyfriend hover over your family excitedly like a dog. You were worried his joyful antics were intimidating your family just a tad.

"hey babe? Can you help grab the charcoal from the car?"

Rocket looked over at you before giving you an excited smile, a chance to show his strength?! Hell yeah!

"of course babe! Here hold it!"

Within a second he was throwing his hoodie off now in a tank top, he was totally showing off and you were here for it! Just watching him carry two bags of charcoal like it was nothing kinda made you hot and bothered

This barbeque was going to be filled with some interesting tension. You sat at the picnic table watching as rocket helped with the grill.

Your family loved rocket which made you feel better for sure plus he was the center of attention which you knew made him happy

"babeeee!"

"yeah babe?"

"you look smoking! I love you!"

You snorted out a laugh from his adorable wink and compliment..damn you loved your himbo.

Scarlett

Oh she was ready

She wanted to prepare dinner for your family

She loved the idea of being included into your family

She did want you to meet her family as well but she was worried about her twin brother trying to torture you or something

She of course was as graceful and sweet as always

She was excited to know about all those childhood memories you have

"so [y/n] tells me that you're an herbalist, sounds interesting though must be hard to get business with modern medicine being popular"

Scarlett simply giggled before playing with one of her ponytails as she tried to explain her view on things.

"well, my medicine is actually sold sometimes to hospitals though I try to avoid it, herbal medicine has its great perks"

Scarlett had always been greatly intelligent but she was impressing you for sure. She was great at speaking and charming others, of course she was beautiful while doing it

"would you all care for some dessert? I wish to know more about [y/n] when they were a child"

"really scar?"

"of course my love, after all I love you no matter what"

[cornacopicimagines]

best of friends │t.h

pairing: single dad!mob!tom holland x single mum!reader

words: 9k (oh god, i’m so sorry)

warnings: SMUT, swearing, praise kink, oral (female recieving), slight violence, mentions of verbal abuse/ degration & rough sex if you squint

summary:  Theo y/l/n and James Holland are the best friends that only 8-year-olds can get, their parents though are a little less happy with their lives. For James' dad; Mob-King Tom, he can't seem to catch cupid's arrow. Better yet, he refused to even let the stupid cherub let it fly free. For Theo's mum; y/n, it's her confidence that shakes her love life until there's nothing there. So it was meant to be.

a/n: at first i hated this fic (i still sort of hate the first part) but i think it’s really grown on me :)

masterlist

part 2

━━★✼☆｡

y/n smiled as she waved off the last group of kids, the small children giving her tight hugs before running off to their parents. She truly loved her job; she couldn't ask for anything other than the life she has right now but something has always been devoid. Alas, being a primary school teacher with an 8-year-old son can keep you busy enough to forget about your past problems.

"Muuum," Theo dragged on as he danced around one desk lazily, "when are we going home, I've got some cartoons to watch," he said snappily, y/n debated on whether she should call her son out on his attitude.

"Soon, you little devil," y/n replied, still happily dismissing her students. Seeing as most of the kids had gone or having a chat with their parents, y/n took that as a sign to pack up her classroom.

"I think Molly has a crush on me," Theo told y/n with a wide grin on his face. She stared up at him with a matching smile.

"Really, how do you know that?" y/n asked cheekily, she waited for her son's answer but only got a shrug and a sigh. She chestily laughed as she started to pack up her bag. "That's not an answer little man!"

"Ask James, he agrees with me," Theo defended.

"You two have really been making a ruckus in my classroom, I should probably split you two up," y/n falsely threatened as she slipped on a small touch up of her pale red lip gloss.

Theo immediately ran to the front of her desk with sad eyes, "please don't mum, we'll be extra good," Theo lifted his pinky finger to wave in her face, "I pinky promise."

y/n stared down and captured his tiny finger with hers, sealing the deal. As she grabbed the rest of her things from underneath her desk, she heard the small pitter patter of an extra pair of feet.

"Hi, Ms.y/l/n" a soft worried voice called out, y/n lifted her head to see James Holland with his bottom lip trembling and his eyes filling with hot tears not daring to spill over. y/n almost jumped over the desk to comfort the young boy.

"Oh James, what's the matter?" she asked gently as she gently wiped the liquid from his cheeks.

"I was supposed to-to be picked up-p a long t-t-time ago," James told her through stifled sobs. y/n felt her heart shatter with absolute sadness for this little boy. It had been an hour since school ended, his parents must be late. "I was wondering if I could go home with you until my dad or his assistant can come and get me."

y/n knew that James's dad did some shady business. She wasn't dumb; she picked up on everything. Whenever his so-called assistant would come to get James she would always ask what he did to dress so sharply and the blonde would constantly have a different answer or sometimes he would deflect the question altogether. She also noticed the gun that lay hidden underneath his jacket and the small pocket knives around his waist. She never thought too much about it because James was the sweetest kid on the planet and he made Theo thrilled, she would not take that away from him by alerting the police to a threat that she had nothing but a hunch about.

Theo burst into a roar of excited cheers as soon as the sentence fell off James's lips. y/n shushed her son before turning back to James. "As much as both of us would love that, you can't come home with us without your dad's permission."

"Can't you just call him?" James exclaimed as he corked an eyebrow at her, as small blush arose on her cheeks; sometimes she felt dumber than the kids. As school policy goes, y/n must have a small binder with all the parents' contacts in case of emergencies.

"Great idea," she complimented as she quickly went to make the phone call. Her finger skimmed around the book, finding the last name Holland and the first name Tom underneath James's page. She had heard that name before she just can identify where. Either way, she rang and someone answered after a few rings.

"Hello?" a male voice called out.

"Hi, this is Ms. y/l/n," y/n told him sweetly. "I have James here saying that nobody has picked him up yet," she told him.

"Fuck, I knew I forgot something!" the voice shouted, y/n was 99% sure the boys could hear it, "shit, Tom will gut me like a fish," the man sounded worried and flustered with panic and fear.

"Wait, who am I exactly talking to?" she pondered.

"Harrison, I'm Tom's assistant." Harrison rolled the assistant slowly. An obvious diversion that she wasn't idiotic enough to fall for.

"Well, if it makes any difference, Theo and James have just made plans for James to come home with myself and Theo," she spoke quietly. "Would that be okay?"

The line was silent for a second or two before Harrison quickly responded, "Yes that will be fine, someone will pick him up around 6," he snapped at her before cutting off the line abruptly.

y/n stared at her phone for a moment before she stared at the boys with a wide gleam. "You're coming home with us James and its homemade pizza for dinner tonight!"

With that, the pair of boys rejoiced and the three of them walked out of the classroom and towards the exit.

━━★✼☆｡

Tom sat in his impressively large chair, his eyes never leaving the clock that lay between photos of his family and his son James. He had been in meetings all day with people that pissed him the fuck off. All Tom had been looking forward to is seeing his son and spending his time playing with James. But yet, it had been an hour since he should have been out of school, meaning he should have been home 20 minutes ago. There as a few harsh knocks, Tom instantly knew who it was.

"Got some news mate," Harrison told him before he had even entered the room.

Tom let his head lean back and a hoarse groan slips out, "it better be good otherwise, I don't want to fucking hear it," Tom spat, "I've been in meetings all day, just wanna see my son."

"About that." Harrison trailed off. Tom felt his heart stop. He instantly rushed over to Harrison's side. "I forgot to pick James up from school today and-"

"You absolute dumbass!" Tom roared. "Other Mob bosses know who he is. I can't have him walking the school ground by himself he'll get bloody kidnapped!" Tom started to ramble, he hardly ever did such an infantile act. He hadn't rambled since James was left on his doorstep with a note saying he was Tom's son and that was eight years ago!

Tom couldn't help but feel guilt rack his body, a million thoughts ran through his mind and he felt as if he was on the verge of tears, but he refuses to let even one go. Suddenly, he snapped out of it and almost sprinted towards Harrison. His hands clasped around Harrison's collar and brought him in so fast, Harrison's knees buckled at the force and skidded across the hard floor. "If you didn't pick him up, where the fuck is he?"

Tom watched as Harrison gulped loudly. Tom hated getting violent with Harrison, but with the safety of his son. Tom would mow downfield of people if it meant James was alive.

"He is with his teacher and her son. She said that I have to pick him up later," Harrison told him weepily. Tom didn't know if it relieved him to know that his son was with good hands with his teacher, who Tom had only heard good things about from Harrison or that his right-hand man let his son go off with a woman Tom has never met. "Listen, she said they are making homemade pizza and that we are welcome to join her when I go pick James up."

"Hm, pick him up when it is necessary," Tom grunted as he walked off, suddenly much calmer than he was before. Harrison regained his composure and ran to Tom's side.

"No, I think you should go pick him up," Harrison told him. Coming from anyone else, Tom would have their tongue cut out, but Tom felt obliged to let it slide after his recent outburst at Harrison. "I think it would be good for James to see his own father come pick him up for once and it wouldn't hurt to meet Ms. y/l/n," Harrison spoke the last part with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Before you scheme and manipulate your way into making me do something, you know I don't want any woman taking advantage of me- again," Tom hated saying that sentence, he hated giving James's mother the satisfaction that she broke the heart of the world's hardest mobster. That a dancer from a strip club he owned broke the one heart that was never meant to; his. Tom took it as a sign that love wasn't in his card, only single parenthood. Though deep down, Tom wanted someone else, he didn't want to sleep around with expensive strippers and high-end prostitutes for the rest of his life, he would not die with that being his greatest achievement in the sex department. He'd never admit that to a single soul.

"Come on, get back on the horse," Harrison told him gleefully, "She's a nice woman and you've always complained that all the girlfriends you've had since James have hated children, well she works with your son almost every day. There's a fucking jackpot right in front of you, mate."

Tom groaned in disapproval, "How do you even know she's single, she got an 8-year-old son, she's married" he sighed

"You have an eight-year-old and you aren't fucking married you twat," Harrison scoffed, "plus I've never seen a ring on that finger," he held up his ringer finger and swirling it in his face.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Harrison," Tom complained as he smacked Harrison hand away, "I think it's time to give up, my schedule is too busy, I can barely see my own fucking son!" Tom called out as he rested his hands on his hair, "How can I sustain an actual relationship?"

Harrison said nothing but stared at his best friend. To Harrison, Tom looked flustered, angry and tense. Harrison knew that Tom blamed only himself for the misfortunes in his life, even though all the shit that was happening to him wasn't his fault at all.

Tom could see Harrison was pondering at him. He hated it. "If I do this, will you give it a fucking rest," Tom compromised. Harrison looked at him smugly.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n stood at the messy benches of her kitchen, shredded cheese fell everywhere and a three quarterly cut pepperoni stick was about to fall off. A warm and delicious smell over the house from the full oven; it was her favourite thing. Currently, y/n was finely chopping basil and rosemary while the two boys sat at the island table, flour and sauce almost covered the entire table and the power creates a ring around the boys.

"Now, Theo do you want to tell James how to lay the pepperoni to make sure it doesn't get all soggy," y/n asked him sweetly, trusting him enough to not have to turn around completely.

"Yesmum!" Theo called out as if she wasn't in the same room. She chuckled to herself before she dumped the herbs into a bowl and came over to the table, sitting on one of the free chairs.

y/n watched as Theo taught James the perfect placing of pepperoni on the spare pizza. It was if y/n intrigue of James's father had hit an all-time high as she stared at the young boy. Before she taught James, she remembers hearing a lot of rumours about James's father from the other teachers and even other mothers about how he was mysterious and them handsome. She used to giggle at the rumours; she supposed that some lonely suburban housewives concocted the rumours, that they had nothing better to do than lust after the young bachelor because their husbands can find the g-spot.

But now that she is teaching James, the rumours seem to come alive the longer she knows the boy. She can't help but fall into the trap of her primal curiosity because of a stranger she's never even met and that very stranger could deal with a shady past or worse a shady present.

"So, James, how your dad?" y/n asked innocently. James stopped placing the toppings to talk to her (much to Theo's disapproval).

"Oh, he's awesome, I don't get to see him a lot but when I do it's amazing," James squealed happily. y/n cocked her eyebrow at the boy.

"What do you mean, you don't get to see him a lot', doesn't your dad pick you up from school every day," y/n pressed, she knew she shouldn't be asking him these types of questions but she couldn't help it and James seemed happy enough to answer.

"My dad partner picks me up, his name's Harrison, and he's the best," James smiled widely as Theo tried to get him to pay attention.

"So, what does your dad do?" y/n queered again, genuinely interested in James' answer. The little boy scratched his head a bit before shrugging his shoulders in confusion, y/n laughed sweetly. "You know how I work as your teacher-"

"And you're the best!" James cut her off suddenly.

"Thank you, but what does your dad do during the day," she spoke quietly but it appeared James got the memo.

"My dad does deals with people where he shouts at them and sometimes, I see this icky dark red stuff on him, but dad just tells me it's just paint," James replied sweetly unaware of y/n shocked face. Sure, she had her doubts and suspicions, but she never expected them to be true. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She has the son of Tom fucking Holland in her house, likely without his knowledge. She'd be lucky if Tom leaves her bloody and bruised. y/n didn't want to believe that this angelic and adorable boy has the world's most feared mobster has a father. How the fuck did she not notice the queue with all the bodyguards that come along to pickup time, the expensive stuff that he brings to class and why Harrison is always wearing a very expensive suit just to bring an eight-year-old back home.

"We're done, ma," Theo called her out of her anxiety-driven haze. She smiled sheepishly as she took the pizzas from the boys and put them in the oven. "Are you okay, mum?" Theo asked again as he crawled off the chair and went to throw the scraps in the bin.

"Yes sweetheart," y/n replied shakily. What was she going to say to him, how was she going to explain, how is she going to keep her son safe, what if she-

Ding!

The doorbell rang, the sound almost deafened her. y/n steadied her nerves and walked over to open the door. Outside stood two bulky 6'4" men and a nicely dressed one in the middle. For some odd reason, y/n felt her cheeks heat and her heart rate pick up. The messily pushed back brown curls seemed to fall perfectly in place and frame his face. Massive diamond rings laced his fingers as he slightly tapped at his wrist, that she might add was decorated stunningly with pronounced veins that made her weak.

"Um, welcome," y/n spoke quietly, the man in the middle (who she assumed was Tom) stared at her darkly before stepping inside. The warm lighting of her hallway seemed to illuminate Tom's features y/n noticed the sharp jaw, and she was just able to make out his dark brown eyes underneath the Versace sunglasses. "Hi, you m-must be James's dad, I'm Theo's mum; y/n," she extended her hand to meet his.

Since she opened the door, entrancement seemed to flow through him. Sure, it wasn't romantically at first, but the woman surely intrigued him. She had her hair tucked behind her slightly sauced ears and behind a flour-covered apron seemed to be a tight-fitting red pin-up dress, which he compliments shows off her curves nicely. Tom felt like he had to smile at her, not in a joking way but in a way that he couldn't explain. In a way that he had to smile when he saw Tessa trip over her own feet. It was adorable; she was adorable.

When he heard her speak, it felt like a breath of fresh air had hit him. He felt as if he was in his childhood home again and she was the beautiful nanny Tom would have had a crush on. Tom felt instantly out of place when he walked in. He was so used to the dark setting and furniture of his massive mansion. He was so used to walking the long empty halls and going to bed in a vacantly giant room. Now though, her home felt so cosy. The walls were tight enough to feel warm but wide enough to not squeeze you. The rooms seemed busy with colours and clothes and her kitchen was small but still seemed homey.

In an act of complete defiance to himself, Tom thought he could live here if he wanted, and he wanted to. It was so different from his regularly scheduled life, her home, her arrangement and even y/n herself made Tom feel so out of place that he had to give her all his undying attention as if she was a magnet of everything Tom needed to balance his life. What the fuck is going on with him? So he snapped himself out of it.

"Where's my son," Tom asked her. He tried not to sound like a total dick, but it was hard not to. Tom felt worse when he saw y/n flinch slightly after he snapped, "I'm sorry," Tom has never apologised to anyone other than his son, he has to get his shit together quickly.

"Oh no, it's okay," y/n smiled warmly, the apology from the mobster made her feel a little better about her situation. "James is hanging out with Theo, you're welcome to stay if you'd like," she invited. Tom felt like he had to stay, and it didn't help that when James saw him in the hallway, he started to cry and whine.

Tom immediately ran to his side, but James pushed him away and hugged Theo, which he happily reciprocated.

"No, I'm not going, you can't make me!" James yelled furiously as he turned his back to his father. Tom sighed loudly. He bent down and placed his hand against James's back.

"Come on, little man, I don't want to intrude," Tom explained sweetly, his hand rubbing small circles. y/n didn't know a man such as Tom Holland could speak that softly and sweetly; it made her want to swoon.

"He's not in-intruding Mr Holland," Theo told her quietly. Tom noticed the boy had stumbled over the hard word. He couldn't help but admit defeat and regained his composure.

"Harrison told me you were making pizzas, it's been a while since I've had some well at least homemade ones," Tom announced loudly, "so I guess we are staying."

The two boys rejoice before they made their way back to the TV and left Tom and y/n by themselves. y/n awkwardly made her way to the kitchen, and Tom dismissed the two bodyguards behind him and happily followed her.

As he walked down the hallway, he took slight notice of the different photos that hung on the walls. Most of them were of Theo, one had him in a karate uniform holding a trophy and a toothy smile while another had a photo of y/n and Theo at the park. Tom couldn't help but smile at them. Once more did he have the feeling of need for all of this to be in his life, he wanted more, correction he needed more. He squeezed through her slim doorway and stumbled into y/n's endearingly kitchen.

He had never seen a mess like her kitchen; he saw flour on the floor and sauce on the cupboards. Tom couldn't help but let a small chuckle escape his lips as he sat opposite her.

Tom wasn't an idiot. He could see how scared he was making her just by sitting closer to her. y/n on the other end of the table was almost shitting herself, she could feel her throat becoming dry and tried her best to avoid connecting their eyes even if she desperately wanted another peek at his warm brown eyes.

Tom stared at her with guilt racking his body, "I will not hurt you," Tom told her gently and for some odd reason, he fought back the urge to hold her trembling hand as he spoke. y/n didn't believe him, she knew deep down that this is what he says to his victims before he blows their fucking brains out, until "I promise." Tom had even surprised himself with his words. He has promised nothing other than when he promised his son he could ice-cream for dinner one night, Tom wasn't sure what was washing over him but worse he didn't know if he liked the feeling or not.

Tom waited for her response. He waited for y/n to give him any cue to tell him she felt safe around him. Finally, y/n lifted her eyes to meet his. Tom hadn't really gotten a good look at the door. Her eyes matched her whole persona, it almost entranced him. They were young but filled with such wisdom and knowledge; he didn't know what to do. It was an obvious y/ec, but it was like he was experiencing the colour for the first time in his 27 year life.

y/n slowly lifted her eyes to meet his and Tom's heart jumped into his throat. Never has a woman had this effect on him; it addicted him. Tom spotted a faint smile on her sauce, dusted lips and couldn't help but return the favour. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be this cold towards you," she spoke softly.

"Oh, it's fine. I get it all the time," Tom responded with a small giggle.

"That's awful," y/n immediately protested, her full attention on him.

"What I do is awful sweetheart, it comes with the job," he told her as he leaned back in his chair. y/n pulled back, how could she be so dumb?

Tom noticed her sudden shift in mood and cleared the air, "I don't mean to pry but is Theo's father around, I didn't notice him in any of the photos," Tom asked awkwardly, he genuinely wanted to know but immediately realised his mistake, "or is that not a talking topic?"

"No, it's okay," y/n responded with a light chuckle, something Tom desperately wanted to hear more of, "Theo's dad and I split badly and I haven't spoken to him in years," the memory still haunts y/n but she could only let fragmented pieces out at a time, "Theo has never met his father and I intend on keeping it that way."

Tom's brain started to concoct a sadly romantic fairy tale with both of them but he quickly scolded himself. Suddenly, y/n perked up. She jumped from the table, took one pizza out of the oven, and started to cut it.

"What about you?" y/n asked with her back turned.

"What about me?" Tom responded, nobody has ever asked him that.

"A good-looking man like you with a son has to be married," y/n exclaimed before placing a pizza in front of them both and calling for the boys, giving them their pizza.

"Sadly, no, I'm not married," Tom chuckled as he picked up a piece. "I had James with his mother on a whim I guess." Tom saw y/n cocked her eyebrow in confusion. "That's all I'm letting out." Tom crossed his arms and leaned away.

y/n though leaned in and batted her eyelashes, "No, you got me intrigued," y/n whined. "If you tell me, I will tell you my backstory the next time we meet."

"We're going to meet again?" Tom smirked widely, suddenly pulled into her spell. Tom saw the heat rise to her cheeks and her face scrunch up as she tried to rack her brain for a proper answer. She was gorgeous; he wanted to stare at her face for all eternity.

"O-of course," she stuttered, tripping over her own tongue suddenly. She doesn't know why she's acting like this. Sure he's a godly handsome man that is ticking all of her boxes in a matter of moments but her brain seems to keep forgetting that she's sitting just a few feet away from the King of the English Mafia. A man who could kill her in a second, still she couldn't help the primal attraction that was cursing through her.

Tom held his hand out to her. "All right darling, it's a deal," he spoke lowly. Any logical person would have kept their hand to themselves. Any reasonable educated person would not raise their hand and shake Tom's. y/n was a logical and educated woman, but not with Tom around. So she took his hand in hers and shook slowly.

"Jame's was- how do I say this? Not planned." Tom sighed as he played with the pizza in front of him. "When I first got control over the Mafia. I bought this strip club just down the street. I used to go in there almost every night. I thought if I went in it would make me feel like a true Mafia King. The Mafia King who sleeps with whoever he wants whenever he wants, but I guess I am more of a romantic than I thought. There was this girl, she was interesting, and I found her mesmerising from the second I saw her. So like an idiot I started to see her only, I bought her things, I gave her safety and let her decide in the Mob. I guess one night I forgot to put on a condom and she left me the very next night. Nine months later, James was wailing on my doorstep with a small note saying 'I am so sorry, he's yours and I can't look after him', I still remember the words on that stupid fucking note," Tom felt his voice crack, he peered over to James who was eating his pizza and pretending to fight the bad guys on the T.V, "I adore my son with every fibre in my being but I just wish things were a little different."

Tom swivelled around and saw y/n almost in tears, "I'm sorry," y/n snapped out of her emotional haze and started to wipe away some tears, "I don't know what came over me."

"That's all right, my mum was in tears for days after James arrived." Tom stared down, remembering the feelings of the room on that day, "happy tears."

y/n felt an overwhelming surge of emotion hit her like a truck. She has heard no one talk with such passion. "Wow, that's um-" she blushed, "quite a story."

Tom gave her a weak smile. He noticed the blush that bubbled to the surface of his cheeks. Tom noticed a lot of other things while she sat opposite him. He noticed the small dimples that would peak out if she smiled. He noticed the freckles that perfectly sprinkled her skin. He was sure that if he sat here for long enough, he could count every one of them.

"Is there something on my face?" y/n's concerned voice snapped him out of his lovesick haze. Tom shook his head slightly before y/n took the back of her hand to wipe the non-existing grime off her cheek only to smear sauce all over her.

"Well, now there is," Tom laughed before he leaned over and wiped the sauce with his napkin. y/n came closer to help him reach her but in the process only pushed her cleavage up, causing Tom's chair to slide out from under him. Their faces were so close, y/n felt the warmth from Tom's body wafting and swirling around her as if he was entrancing her. Problem was, she was fully under his spell now.

"Are you going to kiss my dad?" James ecstatic voice called out abruptly. y/n almost fell off her chair just from the pair eyes. Theo was standing just behind James with a smile that matched his friend as they watched their parents compose themselves.

Tom tried to piece an answer to give his son while still leaving his options open with y/n. "None of your business little man," Tom faked growled as he tickled James and Theo's bellies, causing them to run off squealing with excitement.

Tom turned around to face her, the faint glow of the kitchen made y/n look like an angel. He felt overwhelming an urge to fall to his knees and pray to her, but he slid it to back of his mind. Hoping that maybe he could do it soon.

They talked for what seemed like a second but in reality; they had been talking for an hour. Tom would give every cent away just to keep hearing her sweet-like honey voice. y/n as well couldn't get enough of him, the more she allowed herself to open up to him the more she seemed to love his company. He was intelligent, well-spoken and off the record; he was so goddamn attractive. y/n believes she was to go to the nearest church just for having him near her. Still, he made her feel safe. He made her feel something that she hasn't felt since Theo's father left her. It scared her. Her heart picked up and her brain started to overwork itself. He was just humouring her; he would leave her in a heartbeat; he's got rows of women begging to sleep with him, why would he want her?

"Oh god, w-would you look at the t-time," y/n stuttered as she rushed to get him out of the house before she broke down in tears. y/n jumped out of her chair and almost threw the plates into the sink.

Tom stood up in a panic. He was having a wonderful time with her, why was she so eager to get herself alone?

"It's only a quarter to ten," Tom chuckled as he checked the watch on his wrist. y/n didn't want to make him leave. If it were up to her, she would let the kids' sleepover and pull him into her sheets as fast as possible but her subconscious had other plans.

"I'm sure the King of The Mafia has a busy schedule," she replied as she ran to get the boys' plates and get them back to the kitchen. She was right, Tom did have a lot happening tomorrow. He was most likely going to get his hands dirty. He kept his mouth shut on that remembrance.

"Well, how about you come over to mine tomorrow night," Tom suggested. y/n stood dead in her tracks. "I need to repay you for this wonderful night." A blush formed on her cheeks.

She sighed and before she could even let a single syllable out-, "We would love to Mr. Holland!" Theo's voice shot up. His head appeared just behind her with a straight smile. Tom immediately matched Theo's, knowing y/n couldn't refuse the two of them.

"Yes, we would love to and we will-" y/n head dropped, "and we will be there."

Tom let himself fist bump the air as he went to get James off the couch. "How's 9:30 sound, I have some stuff to deal with beforehand?"

"Sounds g-great," y/n sighed. Tom quickly pecked her cheek as he went for the door. y/n turned to him in disbelief.

"Can't wait angel," Tom whispered just before he closed the door. Jesus Christ, he would be the death of her.

"He seems like a nice guy," Theo blank voice rang out. He leaned up against the back of the couch as he raised his eyebrows at y/n suggestively. she gave him a light smack on his arm.

━━★✼☆｡

Tom sat in his chair. The cloud of smoke and the sounds of ragged panting wafted over the room. Percy's head drooped low as he waited.

"Where's your fucking brother Percy?" Tom asked non-nonchalantly. His eyes never wavered off the man.

"Like I told you buffoons before," Percy lifted his head weakly, "I have no clue where my crackhead brother is," Tom glimpsed his prize. Percy's sweaty hair stuck to his head, the crusted blood started to fall from the gash on eyebrow onto his bound feet. Percy stared at him with one eye open; all he could achieve. Tom smiled gleefully.  

"Don't you fucking lie to me, you little shithead!" Tom roared. His hands slammed down on the desk. Everyone to jump. Tom paced around to lean on the front of his marble desk. "I have some very important people coming in about-" Tom glanced at his watch, "10 minutes."

"I will not rat my own fucking brother out," Percy responded defiantly. Tom's patience was thinning with every tick of the clock.

"I don't want to hurt you, Percy," Tom faked a smile, "not tonight at least. So you better make this quicker than me taking a fucking piss." One of his men pulled Percy's hair back, "Where is you goddamn brother."

Percy felt the barrel of Tom's gun roughly shoved up against his temple. He fought back a tear. "Columbia, trying to smuggle your drugs into Ecuador," Percy revealed.

The door swung open to reveal a completely un-phased Harrison. "They're here."

Tom immediately straightened up. "Perfect Timing!" Tom started to his men, "get rid of him." As his men dragged Percy out of his office. Tom straightened his coat as wiped off the dried blood on his chin. Harrison chuckled lightly before Tom ran out.

"They're in the upstairs hallway," Harrison called out, but Tom was already too far gone. 

The massive painting loomed over y/n. She had completely forgotten how powerful Tom was, the matter that Tom commanded respect had slipped her mind. He stood in a black suit. Like something straight out a mobster movie. she giggled to herself at that thought.

"I begged my mother not to have me painted, but she insisted," Tom called out to her. y/n jumped at his voice but softened when she saw him approaching in the same outfit as the portrait.

"Well I think you look devilishly handsome," y/n responded with a wide smile, a smile that made Tom's heart flutter. As he got closer, he noticed the absence of a certain 8-year-old.

"Where's the munchkin?" he asked as he searched around her.

"He's upstairs with James. He took Theo's hand and ran off as soon as we stepped into the door," she laughed. Tom couldn't help but smile along with her. He wondered if she let this side of her out often. Genuinely giddy and joyous. "Do you look at most women like this?" She broke his concentration. y/n stood there with her eyebrow quirked and a smirk plastered on her face. Tom begged whatever god was up there to allow him just a single kiss.

"Only to you, angel," Tom responded, his pearly white teeth shining through a wide smile. y/n's cheeks flustered and her whole face glowed red. He was pushing all of her buttons, wasn't he?

"Come upstairs, I want to show you something," Tom exclaimed as he captured y/n's hand within his. Tom led her up a small flight of stairs and into a large room. The dim bedroom had red plastered everywhere. The carpet was a soft red velvet and the sheet; a luxurious red and black silk. Hell even the walls were painted with a deep maroon. y/n looked over to him with shock. "Dont worry sweetheart, the surprise is outside," Tom chuckled before his calloused hand landed on the small of her back nudging her softly. y/n's breath hitched into the back of her throat.

y/n pushed the glass doors. The dense forest of trees sparkled in the bright moonlight. The faint glow of London's lights dimmed in the background. She knew this might not have been the most aesthetically pleasing view, but it felt more than it looked. The safety and security of the view made her swoon. "Is this a date, Mr. Holland?" y/n smirked as she sat down in the glass chair.

Tom had never heard his last name sound so sweet.

"Only if you want it to be Ms. y/l/n," he responded, quickly trying to conceal his blush.

She stared out for a moment. y/n didn't know why, but she felt like a shy teenager again. A girl sitting next to a hot guy who has no real interest in her. It was nostalgic in some sick way.

They talked for hours. Tom couldn't get enough of her. It was like she was some beautiful drug. A drug so addictive, he's hooked after one night. Every time a laugh surpassed her soft lips, Tom can't help but let his heart flutter. She, too, was quite enjoying herself. y/n let her walls down slowly but surely. The more he talked, the more she leaned. The more she felt as though this was fate. That though was a juvenile thing to even fathom. So y/n wondered what her life would have been if she met Tom before her ex. Would she be happy or would she still be silently crying to herself to make sure Theo didn't hear even a peep.

A curt knock at the door interrupted them. A middle age woman peeked her head in.

"They're both in bed," she spoke happily. "It took a while to get Theo off to sleep though."

y/n giggled, "I'm not surprised."

Tom stared at her for a moment, imagining that Theo and James were their sons, and she was his wife who always seemed to amaze him. Maybe in the near future, he thought to himself.

"Thank you Ms Smith," Tom smiled warmly at her, y/n looked over to him in childlike shock.

"You have a nanny!" y/n poked Tom in his bicep. He gently swatted her finger away.

"Less about me, angel," Tom sighed. "Now, we had a deal," Tom's eyebrow cocked, and a smirk filled his face.

y/n smiled weakly at him. I will need a shit ton of booze, she thought. She grabbed the bottle of expensive wine and poured herself a glass. She gulped it down. Then she poured another one, drinking it down quicker than the first one. Finally, one more glass of wine went down, and she was ready to open her mouth.

"Mind saving a little for me, angel." Tom chuckled lightly, y/n made work getting him a glass (and more for herself wouldn't hurt.)

"Okay, so it was my last year of high school. I had been fawning over this guy since I was twelve. Then, out of nowhere, he's pulling me into empty stalls and telling me he can't be without me and he's in love with me," y/n started, she was cut off by the man next to her.

"How could he not?" Tom quipped as he took a small gulp of his wine. y/n gave him a hard glare as she tried to steal his attention away from the flush of her cheeks.

"Anyway, it took a bit of time but like the idiot I am, I gave in. We went on a few dates; we were happy for a good while. Until those two stupid fucking lines," she felt her voice break. Her head started to feel dizzy. Like it would roll off her neck will the snap of a finger. "Maybe, I was feeling all maternal, and I told him I was pregnant. To my surprise, he stayed with me for my first trimester. He refused to tell his parents, I of course, had to confess to mine. Sometimes I think that was the first red flag. It wasn't until the middle of my third trimester things went downhill. It's normal for women to put on a little weight when they're pregnant. Obviously, he didn't have a fucking clue." y/n felt herself, get more furious and more upset with every word that rolled off her tongue. "He started telling me 'You look enormous', 'I have a fat whale for a girlfriend, 'I wish you had aborted that thing, so I wouldn't have to look at you like this'," She was in tears now, the salty liquid dripped from her cheeks onto her dress. Tom knelt in front of her, his hands rubbing small circles on her knees. "He abandoned me, right when it counted." She started him. Tom felt his heart shatter. "Everyone leaves me Tom."

"I'll never leave you, y/n" Tom reassured her, he took her shaking hands in his. y/n peered down, she shook her head.

"Tom, you don't want me," y/n sobbed, "No one does, it's okay."

"y/n," Tom hovered above her, his palms rested on her warm cheeks. "I want you, more than I have ever wanted something in my life." Their eyes met. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on."

y/n was in disbelief, her hands rested on his wrist. Her cries stopped as soon as she felt his thumb stroking soft circles on her cheek.

Tom still saw that look in her eyes. The look of a woman so broken by a man who never loved her, who took advantage of her admiration. Something Tom needed more than air to breathe. He was making it his mission, that y/n would not leave his home until she finally knew that not only did her son appreciate her, but he did just as much.

So, he took a chance. He bent down and encaptured her lips with his. She tasted like everything, he dreamt of. She tasted like the cakes his mother would make for him on his birthday. She was the breath of sweet excitement when he smelled homemade pancakes. It surprised him he hadn't completely dissolved at this simple touch.

y/n sat in shock for a moment. Her brain tried to catch up to his movements. He didn't move against at first. She pressed into it. Her hands gripping slightly at his wrists as she reciprocated the tender kiss. She, too, felt the satisfaction of knowing what he too tasted like. She took notes of all the little details; the taste of freshly smoked nicotine, the smell of his cologne wafted around her; the pronounced viens in his hands. She was in heaven.

Their lips moved against each other. It wasn't needy or rushed. It was steady and passionate. y/n has experienced a kiss like this in her 24-year-old life. "Take me to the bedroom," she spoke through mousey breathless moans. Tom pulled away completely at this.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you," Tom told her sweetly, y/n hands caress his cheek gently as she gave him a warm smile.

"You're not taking advantage of me Tom," she stood from her chair, never letting her eyes tear from his, "I want this."

Tom beamed. His hands snaked their way to the underside of her bum, pinching softly. Instructing her to jump, which she happily obliged. y/n could feel him, grasp at her bare thighs. Every time he touched her skin, it burned with sinful passion.

Perhaps it was the one too many wines she had downed in less than a minute or that this was the first man she's really been intimate with since Theo's father left. Either way, her skin felt so susceptible to each kiss her laid on her. Hyper sensitive to every pull at her skin. So responsive to his touches.

Tom took his time laying her on the sheets. He took his time to look at her flushed skin in the dim lighting at how she looked like something sent from God. Why God was sending him something in the first place was a question for later. As he sauntered away from her to lock the door, y/n noticed the decor until the feeling dawned on her. Was she really about to sleep with Mafia King; Tom Holland. She had only one answer- obso-fucking-lutely.

Tom tenderly pushed her onto her back, his face now level to hers. y/n thought she looked as red as a tomato, Tom would agree but wouldn't protest at all. He laid a soft kiss to her lips, then a slightly harder one to her neck, then to her collarbone. His hands snaked up her dress. His fingers clutched her hips, pulling her clothed heat closer to his already painful hard groin.

y/n watched every move he made, every attempt to bruise her skin. Tom whined quietly when his lips met the fabric instead of her flesh. y/n giggled and lifted her dress over head and onto the floor next to her.

Tom couldn't help but pull away to take a glimpse of her. Her flushed breasts hidden behind a plain black bra. Most wouldn't think too much of it, but he couldn't help himself. Tom could see her hardened nipples peeking through the material. He pulled the cup down slightly. Tom heard her hiss quietly at the sudden exposure. His lips came down to the bud gently. His teeth pulling at the erect skin ever so lightly only to flick the nub quickly. Hearing her quiet moans and praises spurred him on. He needed more.

"T-tom please," y/n whimpered quietly, her fingers tangling themselves in his messed brown curls. Tom smirked up at her.

"What are you begging for angel face," Tom asked her innocently.

y/n couldn't get a single word out with Tom's fingers dancing at the skin near her soaked panties. Even dipping underneath them for split seconds.

"Do something, with y-your," she struggled. Tom was enjoying every moment. "f-fingers."

"Your wish is my command," Tom rasped out as he pulled her panties down her legs and got between them. He let his pointer finger paint a long strip up her slit. y/n's hips buckled. "You're so wet doll, being such a good girl."

y/n could only let out a hum. Tom wanted to hear that divine voice of hers, so he blew a wisp of air against her clit making her cry out. He was lucking the boys' rooms where so far from here. "Look at me, I want to see those gorgeous eyes gloss over when I make you cum," he promised as he laid a chaste kiss to her inner left thigh. y/n couldn't wait another moment, she might explode. Slowly her eyes met his. His face was mere centimeters from her cunt.

Tom didn't take a second longer. As soon as her eyes were on him, he went in hard. His tongue latched onto her throbbing clit, pulling and sucking so hard it was audible for the both of them to fawn over. He couldn't forget about the promise he made, so his digits circled her hole delicately before he slipped two of his fingers into her.

y/n felt her whole body go numb. It was a feeling so exotic to her. Yet, here she was. Barely able to make a sentence as she tried to bite back constant moans that begged to be let out. Her toes curled even picking up some sheets beneath her.

Tom could feel her fingers pulled at the roots of his hair. He couldn't but moan against her pussy, causing vibrations in every nerve in her already sensitive body.

"Oh my god, y-yes," She let slip. y/n swears she's starting to see stars now. "F-fucking hell, you're a-amazing."

Tom allowed his fingers to hit deeper inside her with that comment. He was making her cum now, or he will blow without even feeling her yet. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if that happens. He pulled his mouth away from her clit with a loud pop, letting his digits do all the work. He watched her writhe and pull at anything she could grasp. God, she was so fucking perfect.

"Christ, j-just like that," y/n encouraged him, "I'm going to c-cum."

"Do it angel face, cum all around my fingers." Tom whispered to her, "let me taste your sweetness."

y/n felt her first orgasm wash over her like a tsunami. She needed to scream her heart out but quickly smothered her moan in the pillows beside her. Tom peered at her intently. To him, he was watching an angel. Seeing her cum is now his new favourite thing. Being the one to cause such pleasure within her makes him feel as though he's on top of the world. His fingers rode her through her orgasm until she hit the end. Her hair sprawled out as she tried to catch any breath left in her lungs. Hell, she was trying to regain some of her sight. Tom brought his fingers to his mouth. His tongue licked them clean. Her juices tasted like nothing he's ever had before and he immediately knows, there is no way he's letting this go.

Tom stripped himself bare now. He crawled above her once more. His curls falling slightly in his face. y/n opened her eyes to see him on top of her. y/n took this moment to run her hand down his torso. Each time her fingers lapped over a muscle, she felt herself recapture her arousal. Her fingers found the base of his dick.

He was bigger than what she thought, bigger than her ex. It started her a tad when she felt his hard length. She started pumping his slowly. Tom's arms almost buckled at the feeling.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to cum into your hand," his pulled her wrist away from him to above her head, "and I just want to pound this sweet little cunt into oblivion." The words cause y/n to whimper, eager for him to fulfill his promise.

"Then do it," she leaned up to whisper in his ear. As she pulled back, he locked eyes with her. Utter shock and an animalistic urge filled his every thought. He didn't even give her a warning before he slammed right into her. y/n cried out and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Tom couldn't believe the feeling. She was hugging every vein, every mark, every inch of his cock and yet so was still so fucking tight. He pulled out of her, only to ram back into her. "Fucking hell, you're divine," Tom growled, still deep inside of her. Slowly, he picked up a rhythm.

Every part of y/n's post was filled the brim by him. He hit her g-spot almost instantly. His name became a chant to her as it never ceased to spill from her lips. Each time he pounded back into her, y/n's voice became horse and rougher. Her nails dug into his bag as she clawed for support. Any support she could get from him.

Tom's been with countless women. Now he's finding it hard to sustain a sentence. He can hardly make out anything other than y/n's name. He wasn't complaining though, her tight walls constricting around with every movement. Tom wondered for a moment if he died and went to heaven and was fucking the dirtiest angel he could find.

"You look so goddamn beautiful taking my cock," he praised. He let his head fall into the crook of her neck, smelling her perfume made him almost lose his shit right there. "You feel so good squeezing around me."

Every word was threatening to her. Every word was pushing her closer to her limit. Every word was forcing more moans out of her mouth. "I'm going to cum, Tommy," she warned him.

The nickname only helped Tom lodge himself deeper and harder into her, "I am too, don't hold back angel face," he pressed a kiss underneath her ear.

y/n's second orgasm rolled over more intense the second time than the first. She pulled her head into his skin, biting and pulling to contain herself. Her legs gave out on her and flopped from his waist and quivered beside him. Tom was quick to follow her. How could he not, with how firmly she was gripping his cock. He pulled out quickly and spurted out streams across her belly. The white liquid dripping over her skin made him see stars.

He collapsed next to her, heaving and panting. y/n turned to him. She placed a long kiss on his lips, bringing his face closer. Tom happily hummed against her skin.

He pulled her into a tight hug. Her fingers traced the outline of his pec. "I'm infatuated with you," he told her plainly. y/n didn't move nor did she flinch. She  just stared up at him with a wide smile.

"As am I," she responded quietly. He wanted her to stay here forever, he had admitted to himself that he wanted to be near her for the rest his life. It was like she had cast some spell over him. He, though, had happily fallen for it.

In his eyes, she was a goddess among women.

━━★✼☆｡

[randomoranges]

the first half of this is like haha oupsee and the second half is like But Also

Dress Shirt

Étienne mindlessly tugs on the sleeve of his sweater, as his second group of the day trickles in. It’s Edward’s class and he’s always privately amused when he has his boyfriend’s group. They don’t know, obviously, but he does and the knowledge amuses him.

 He’s busy giving out instructions when one of the students’ comes up to him and says, “Hen, M Étienne, vous avez le même chandail que M Édouard?!”

 He pauses, mid sentence and looks down to the shirt he’s wearing underneath the sweater and feels a split second of anxiety.

 It is, indeed, Edward’s shirt. Kids can be so – observant when they want to.

 There’s a perfectly good reason for the shirt.

 Kind of.

 Not one he’s about to share with the kids, who’ve now noticed that their art teacher has the same shirt as their teacher and who are making a Big Deal out of it.

 Last afternoon, like every other afternoon, at the end of the school day, Edward had set out to drive him home, like he does nearly every afternoon and as he’s been doing for the past year and a half. However, halfway through the ride, after their discussion on what they were each making for supper, Étienne had made a comment about how much better Edward’s supper sounded, and his boyfriend had asked him if he wanted to stay for supper.

 Étienne had said yes, obviously, and supper had turned into watching some television together, which had turned into making-out on the sofa, which had led Edward to pull Étienne to his bedroom, which had turned into more fooling around, which had culminated in Étienne spending the night on a weekday night.

 It had been a really good night, though. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex on a school night.

 Therefore, seeing as he hadn’t been prepared to spend the night and seeing as they’d gone to bed past their normal bedtime and had rushed in the morning, Étienne hadn’t really thought anything when he’d asked Edward if he could borrow a shirt for the day. He’d picked his favourite one, Edward had driven them to school, and all the while Étienne had thought that maybe he should leave a change of clothes at Edward’s – in case this happened again. He’d like for it to happen again. Especially the impromptu version.

 “Ah oui?” He plays dumb. Thankfully, the shirt is a simple button down in powder blue. “J’imagine qu’on a du l’acheter au même magasin. C’est drôle, hein?” He laughs and the students giggle as well, before he ushers them to their seats so that they can start the lesson.

 No one else brings it up and the rest of the period goes off without further incidents.

 There’s half an hour left before lunch, when he happens to see the light blinking on his cell phone, alerting him of a message. His third group is busy working on their projects, and so, even though he’s not supposed to, he checks his phone and sees that Edward has sent him a text. Curious, he opens it up, wondering what it says.

 “Can we do lunch?”

 They hadn’t discussed eating together, but Étienne is never one to say no, unless he legitimately can’t.

 “Sure : )”

 He doesn’t bother to wait for an answer and goes back to his lesson.

 Edward shows up to the art room ten minutes after lunch started, after he’s brought his own kids to the cafeteria, and knocks on the door as he always does. Étienne looks up from the paint pucks he’s been setting up and grins, before he motions him in. He walks over to the door and makes sure to lock it behind Edward, before he pecks his boyfriend’s cheek in greeting.

 “Nice shirt,” Edward offers and Étienne lets out a semi-embarrassed laugh.

 “I guess you heard?”

 “It’s all the kids were talking about.”

 There’s a point of seriousness to Edward’s voice and Étienne wonders if maybe his boyfriend is bothered by this. If he hasn’t had a change of heart.

 “I’m sorry if I made things weird – I promise I didn’t tell them anything – just that we must have gotten it at the same store.”

 They both take a seat on the couch at the back of the room and Edward lets himself slump over with a deep sigh.

 “No – it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. I played along as well and it’s fine, but – is it stupid that I got scared for a moment? That they’d figure it out and react?”

 Étienne blinks, confused for only a second and then it hits him. What it could mean. What it could look like. What it could lead to.

 “It’s not stupid,” Étienne says after a moment, a quiet little admission of defeat. “This is still school. People like us have been fired for less.”

 It’s a sobering fact to remember. It leaves a chill in the room that even the coziest of sweaters can’t whisk away.

 “I don’t know – maybe it would be easier if there was a precedent. Some queer kid in the school. Queer parents. Something that would let us know it’s okay,” Sure, the union has an ally branch – but for the kids. There’s never really anything mentioned for staff. Even when he tried to look, he’s found nothing.

 Edward picks up, “Yet, in all my years here, I’ve never heard of a student having queer parents. Or even mentioning a queer family member or friend. I mean, I get we’re in elementary. Kids coming out happens more frequently in high school, but still. It would help. Would ease the tension and the anxiety.”

 He remembers hearing stories growing up. He remembers the fear he had felt, even then, without knowing. The sleepless nights afterwards. Wondering, always, how would it impact him, even though this was a new millennium. It’s always easier to say that one is tolerant, another to apply it when faced with the facts. Would the school accept two queer teachers? Would the parents turn on them? Would the school ask them to leave, politely, before they caused more damage? Because parents would talk? Would they even?

 Étienne reaches out and gives his knee a squeeze. “I hate that I get what you mean,” He sighs out and spares him a glance, “And that we have to choose – between being ourselves or going back into some proverbial closet. Potentially losing a job and causing a scene, or keeping our heads down and passing by.”

 “Yeah...” He’s relieved Étienne gets it. He would, obviously, but he’s relieved regardless. If anything, at least, he’s not alone. He’s not going back home to some other boyfriend who doesn’t have to worry about this one issue and who won’t understand. He’s been there before.

 “I know it’s not ideal, but I’m not – I don’t think I’m ready. To be out. Here.” He casts a worried glance around the room and then to Étienne, afraid his boyfriend will get annoyed. They’ve only been dating for a few short months and he knows he should have brought this up over summer, but – he’d forgotten. “I know you’re more – out than me. In your style and way of dressing... and I know it’s asking a lot.”

 “Hey, no, I get it – I really do.” Étienne says and tugs at Edward’s body until his boyfriend is leaning on him, using his chest as a pillow, “The school institution in itself is still a very conservative place full of archaic rules. I’m fine with playing it safe and testing the waters. Not rocking the boat and all. I might be the art teacher and get away with some things, but believe it or not there are still things I keep to myself as well.”

 They’ve spoken some about this over the summer, once they’d started dating. Of certain things they both enjoy doing that wouldn’t be accepted by the school’s dress code. Certain hobbies that might be frowned upon by more conservative minded people. It’s exhausting, really and they both hate it. Yet, even if they decided to take up arms to fight the stigma, it would take a lot of time and they’re both uncertain they have the drive in them for it.

 “Sometimes, I wish I had a different job. One where I could – dress the way I wanted and just be me. No one would question it.” Edward admits, his head on Étienne’s shoulder where it’s nice and safe. “I mean, I know that there are issues everywhere and that even if I worked at a bank a client could decide not to touch money I handled because I’m gay, or something, but I feel that there’s an extra layer in a school. Because of the kids.”

 He’s heard stories – on the news, online, of parents accusing teachers – hell, even more open-minded straight teachers of turning their kids “gay” because of class discussions or certain books they’d make their kids read or some other stupid thing. He knows they live in a pretty tolerant and open-minded city, but it doesn’t mean everyone is on board and there’s no way of knowing which parents would be on their side and which ones would want them out. Unfortunately, there is no survey that’s sent out at the start of the year along with photo authorisations.

 “I hate that I always have to fucking lie and pretend.” Edward concludes with another frustrated sigh.

 “Me too,” Étienne adds.

 They fall quiet for a moment, lost in their own thoughts, imagining what their lives could be like if there wasn’t this constant stress, simmering in the back of their minds, dictating their every move – watching and waiting for them to tumble and fall.

 “I don’t know if it makes things easier or harder that we work in the same place and that we’re together, but I know I’m glad I’m not alone – that if anything, we can at least get support from one another and maybe, hopefully, with time, we’ll find out who the allies are.”

 Edward looks at him and scrubs a hand over his face, before he offers him the smallest of smiles. It’s not much, but Étienne will take it.

 “I guess you’re right,” He pauses and then looks over to Étienne, “Okay, but what were the actual odds that in a job composed mostly of women, the only two male teachers would not only be queer but end up together?” He huffs a laugh and Étienne grins, joining him.

 “Probably very little, but I don’t regret it.”

 He means it, truly. He’d obviously enjoyed being friends with Edward, but he likes where their relationship has been going and he hopes that – even if it’s a little unconventional, that they’ll manage to overcome whatever hardships and insecurities will come their way.

 “Me neither.” They might have to make concessions because of their work, but Edward has vowed to himself, years ago, that he wouldn’t stop himself from being happy and living his life because of what others might think of him. He might not be willing to go to battle over every issue, but he’ll find ways to make this work. They both will.

 “For the record, you can keep the shirt – it looks really good on you.”

 Étienne laughs, this time for real, and it’s closer to his usual carefree laugh, before he playfully hits Edward on the shoulder.

 FIN

[the-necessary-unnecessary]

Mapi Leon's coming out story: the impact of words.

Being the first professional Spanish women’s footballer playing in Spain to publicly come out she caused waves amongst the media and general public (Laura del Rio had previously given interviews about her sexuality but that only when she had moved to the US to play). I have translated the article in which she came out on this day two years ago below because google translate won’t do it justice, but I also wanted to give a bit of backstory about the impact that her coming out had. Now Mapi isn’t just any Spanish player, although obviously not that well-known, she made headlines for being the first female Spanish player to have a transfer fee attached to her when she moved from Atletico to Barça. The fact that she had a higher profile than most other players makes her coming out so publicly even more of a big deal, because her larger platform meant she had more to lose but also meant she understood the power of her words in influencing her audience. Although people just living their lives on social media and casually mentioning their same-sex partners in interviews without a coming out moment is very important, her doing an interview for the national press openly talking about coming out as well as discussing her footballing career is essential too.

Six months after coming out she did another interview talking about the reception that she got on social media after coming out. She said that ‘she didn’t stop receiving messages: “Thank You”, “I saw you and you gave me strength”, “I’m not alone”. Women and Men from all over Spain recognised her gesture and saw themselves reflected in it. “I read them all, but I wasn’t able to reply. I didn’t think that it would turn into something so important for so many people.”’ Her coming out resulted in her being invited to be part of the opening events of Madrid Pride 2018. “When I came out publicly, I became aware of the significance of the action, and that it was much bigger than a single moment or my private life.” She also recognised how different parts of Spain reacted dissimilarly to her coming out and being a public figurehead: “In Barcelona they said ‘well okay great,’ but maybe in less urban areas like Zaragoza [where she is originally from] it wasn’t all like that”, even if bigger cities are more accepting there are places that needed to hear her words more.

Not only was it an influential moment in many supporters’ lives, she also had an impact within the women’s football community itself. She said that as a result of her coming out she saw “more photos, more nods towards players being in relationships with women on social media… as if now one’s sexuality matters even less [in women’s football]. Before you shied away a bit, at the end of the day we’re footballers, not just people, we represent a club, a country, a supporters base… and maybe that was why there was a bit of shyness online. Now I see that everything is done more naturally, without shouting about it on rooftops, but indirectly doing just that.” Even though she didn’t know how much of an impact her words would have at the time, her coming out story helped so many people and continues to be a beacon in Spanish LGBTQ+ visibility – which isn’t always as holistic as it’s sometimes portrayed to be on here.

I have left the translated version of her initial coming out news article below the cut.

Woso Pride Month 2020 [Day 23/30]

FC Barcelona’s defender is left-footed like Messi, she’s just one the Copa de la Reina and in August she will be called up to the national team. She thinks that it is important to “stand up for everyone’s rights”

“I was never very into dolls. I preferred to play ball with my brother and his friends.” And did you beat them? “Well, if I had been bad at it the boys would have kicked me out.” Maria Pilar León is tenacious and tough, perhaps that’s why she’s a centre-back. This blonde 23 year old woman kicks a ball with her left foot like Messi, has a tattoo sleeve on her arm that reminds one of Sergio Ramos’ and they compare her with Piqué due to the ease she has with playing the ball out of the penalty box… although at first sight she looks more like Shakira. Like them, she steps onto the pitch with the fierceness of a warrior. Only a few weeks ago she won the Copa de la Reina with Barça, a goal in the last 10 seconds of the final gave them the victory over Atletico de Madrid. There’s another trait that makes her similar to those footballing icons: she openly and naturally lives with her sexuality, for she also likes women. “And there’s no issue with that. This is who I am and there’s nothing wrong about it”.

Mapi, like they call her on the pitch, doesn’t want life to catch her offside. In a sporting environment with notoriety of being sexist and chauvinist, she wants to score a goal against homophobia. “When you’re a public figure, you have some sort of responsibility. I think that it’s important to stand up for everyone’s rights, there is no need to hide. We often hear pretty disgusting things in football stadiums, not only homophobic slurs but also racist ones, and I believe that we – as the people in sport – need to send a clear message about tolerance and against hatred.” Fair play was about this.

Here we can return to the first paragraph. Mapi is tenacious and tough, she’s also brave and not only on the pitch. You need a lot of courage to talk publicly about something that male footballers are silent about. “I can understand their silence given how chauvinistic football can be. There are a lot of closed-minded people who would insult them, although that kind of insults tell you more about who says them… There’s a lot of pressure in a match, you have to be extremely concentrated and to stand up to that kind of thing is tough. So, in that sense, I understand why they don’t come out. But, on the other hand, it’s something so natural that it escapes me for as to why they don’t do it, I think if they were open the mentality would change bit by bit. In this sense, we have to move forward and progress.”

Chants such as “Michel, Guti (or whoever else), faggot” are common place in stadiums, but Mapi rests assure that she has never suffered from any homophobia on the pitch. “It’s true that there are players whose parents think that this is an illness, but I’ve been lucky in this respect. My parents told me that they would love whoever I loved. And never have I been insulted by anyone nor nothing like that. Maybe it’s because football is, above everything, chauvinistic and sexist. So the bottom line is that a lot of people aren’t thrilled that we women play. I guess those that come and see our matches a more in favour of equality. They are more open minded. They like seeing us play, they enjoy it.

And it’s true, every year more and more people enjoy women’s football. In other countries, like the US, the sport is clearly booming. 1,500 universities have their own teams and there are stars, like Alex Morgan, who take photos alongside Messi. In Spain the situation is a lot more modest, although it is beginning to change. Mapi, for example, has almost 45,000 followers on Instagram. A lot more than well-known actors like Bárbara Lennie or Emma Suárez. “Yes, one could say that I have fans. There are three girls who always come and see me play. It’s pretty cool when you see them with your shirt on. Thanks to her speed and her tactical intelligence she is one of the leading figures in the Liga [now Primera] Iberdrola. In fact, she was the first female Spanish player to be a paid transfer in women’s football. Barça paid 50,000 euros for her transfer from Atletico de Madrid. A big milestone for women’s sport, and something that felt impossible to this woman who collected Ronaldinho stickers when she was younger.

“I wouldn’t be able to explain to you what I felt when they signed me, I felt complete joy. It meant that I hadn’t be mistaken in choosing football as a career. To be honest I wasn’t a great student, I scraped through. In the 4th year of ESO [Year 11/Grade 10] one of my teachers always said: ‘be careful because next time you might not pass…’ He basically told me that I wasted too much time by playing sports and I should stop playing football. Now I think about him a lot. He didn’t see me having a future, but I stuck with my passion and it ended up being the right decision.”

Mapi has played since she was a young girl, but her career started when she was 17, when Real Club Deportivo Español made her an offer. She was forced to leave her parents, Javier the mechanic and Pilar, a caregiver, in Zaragoza and jump into this adventure head first. “They were sad that I left home, but they always supported me.” The next season she received an offer from Atletico de Madrid. With them she won the league. And from there came the famous signing with Barcelona. Now, having finished the season, the centre-back will meet up with the national team to train for two matches in preparation for the 2019 World Cup in France. They have already qualified and are ready to bring the cup home. “Hopefully the men will also win in Russia”.

QUESTION.- Don’t you fear your club’s or the Federation’s reaction after talking about you being homosexual? You are the first professional player in the league to talk about it publicly…

ANSWER.- I don’t think it will be a problem. My personal life is my own and shouldn’t bother anyone else. I hope that they will support it because football needs to start opening itself up. If there are now people who are openly homosexual even in government, how could there not be homosexual people on football pitches?

Q.- And in the changing rooms? Could that not be weird? Prejudices still exist…

A.- I once talked to a [male] friend about this. He got quite caught up about it, but it’s stupid. Your teammates are like family, like sisters. With the tension you have about a match you aren’t focusing on whether they’re looking at you or that kind of thing. There’s a lot of familiarity between us.

In some ways, Mapi has cracked a glass roof, but the financial figures that women’s football deal with, compared to the ones the men deal with, are still ridiculous. A mediocre player in La Liga can win around a million euros per season, whilst most female players earn around a thousand euros per month. There are agencies, such as Carlos Rodríguez’s UPro, who manages Mapi, that try to improve the situation, but the gap here remains an abyss. “There’s always a lot of talk about the difference in salaries between women’s and men’s football. I understand that they earn a lot of money because they generate that kind of money and I’m not against that. Although it’s also true that the figures are exorbitant, everything has got exponentially higher… In the end, we do the same that they do. We dedicate the same amount of time to the game but few follow us, it may be the case that people like us but what’s missing is more promotion.

Q.- For example Doña Letizia didn’t go to the Copa de la Reina final [this means the Queen’s Cup. Leticia is the Queen of Spain and the men’s tournament called Copa del Rey after the King is always attended by him]

A.- I don’t know why she didn’t attend it. Maybe she wasn’t made aware of it, but if the King goes to the guy’s cup final she should come to ours as it carriers her name. It would really help up as it would attract a lot of attention in the press. Hopefully she’ll go next year [Spoiler: she did!]

Q.- Your male counterparts are currently playing in the World Cup hosted in Russia, a country that has a legislation which contains a crackdown on LGBT rights. What do you think about a competition like this one being played in a country like that?

A.- It’s a mistake. In some way it seems like they’re backing the homophobic legislation. In Chechnya there have been concentration camps for homosexuals and that’s something that Putin tolerates. We shouldn’t look away when presented face to face with such issues. This isn’t only about LGBT rights; these are human rights. That’s not the message of tolerance and respect that sport, and specifically football, should affiliate itself with.

Mapi is very certain about this. The match against homophobia in football can be won. She has scored the first goal. Now what’s left to do is for a lot of other athletes to join the team.