#afi imagine

[inthepassengerside]

cockwarming with luke. he’s been wanting to try it and one day he gets the courage to ask you and you guys enjoy it for a little while before he whimpers and starts fucking into you and you enjoy that even more <3

can’t take it

warnings: cockwarming turning into eventual sex, dirty talk, mentions of overstimulation

a/n: this request had me shaking. it’s also veeeerrrryyy old so i’m sorry to the anon who requested this since it’s so late! the ending was hard for me to finish and it still sucks. hope you enjoy though! it’s not proofread

masterlist

It was a lazy Sunday for both you and your boyfriend Luke. You sat in the morning, enjoying your cups of coffee, watching the view from your shared apartment, and listening to a soft record spinning from the living room. It was ideal for the two of you, just being and taking in each other’s presence. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

Your day continued to look like this until the evening. Sitting, watching shows, snacking, some house work. All things that didn’t require much energy, just the driven energy from each other.

The only thing was, you could tell Luke was a little on edge. It made your weekly routine feel different than usual. You were unable to pin what exactly was going on, so you let it go.

Currently, the two of you sat upstairs in your shared bedroom. You were putting away laundry and Luke was fixing up the clutter around your bed. “Gonna go shower baby,” you said to Luke, making your way over to the connected bathroom. He walked over to kiss your cheek, “Okay love.”

As you undressed and got under the warm water, you couldn’t help but try and puzzle some of the reasons why Luke was acting the way he was today. Not that he wasn’t normally affectionate, but he was kissing and hugging you more than usual throughout the day.

You just wondered if something was up emotionally. But either way, Luke had come to you about those things before, so what was holding him back now?

You stayed in the shower for about 10 minutes, washing your body and doing a quick shave before shutting off the water. You stepped out and wrapped a towel around yourself before leaving the bathroom.

Luke was sat on the bed, in sweats and a tee, watching some reruns of How I Met Your Mother. Nothing irregular for the night time. You walked over and laid next to him starting to scroll on your phone.

About 5 minutes had passed before you got up and started changing, shrugging on some of Luke’s boxers and a tank top.

You had barely gotten the top over your head before you felt Luke’s arms wrap around you, burying his head into your neck. You didn’t even notice him get off the bed, but you melted into his touch anyway, “Hi baby.”

“Hi beautiful,” he whispered, pressing tiny kisses along the side of your neck and across your collarbone. You shuddered beneath him, throwing your head back, letting out a gasp.

Was this it? Was he just so needy?

You let him pull you back before your back hit the mattress and he fell over you. His eyes burning into yours and his chain dangling so close to your mouth. He moved down, kissing a trail down your stomach before shrugging off your bottoms. “Y’ love stealing my clothes, yeah?” You giggle, “of course.”

You pull him up by his chain, and his eyebrow raises tauntingly. You grab his neck and pull his head down to kiss him. The kiss is passionate, hot, and sensual. He pulls away to shrug off his shirt, throwing it somewhere along with the boxers to make a new pile of clutter he’ll have to clean up later.

Luke rolls you both over so you’re sat on his lap and you work on shrugging off his sweats. Once you do so, you press your palm against the obvious bulge in his black boxers. He lets out a whimper, “Oh fuck.”

You start to peel off your tank top, stripping until you’re bare and your boy lets out a groan. He brings up his hands to both of your tits, fondling them and pinching your nipples. You let out a squeak from the sensitivity.

He brings his mouth into the mix, running his tongue over your nipple, looking up at you. You push your fingers in his curls, “Fuuuuck Lu,” you cry.

He continues his actions, making you cry, the slurping noises that are coming from him feed into the heat of the moment. He repeats his actions on your other breast, taking his time.

When he’s done and your tits look more swollen and red than usual, he backs away and peers up at you.

Before both of you are aware, you start grinding into him. Luke lets out a groan, “Jesus christ.” You move your hips forward and backward, your clit nudging his covered length in such an intense way where you’re moaning too. You’re both starting to lose your breath.

You feel your cunt dripping. It’s soaking through his boxers, even the thick material, and you know he can feel it too.

You continue your movements, not slowing down, and it isn’t until you hear Luke gasp, “Slow down, baby, shit,” that you halt your hips. You pant too, looking down at Luke.

“Sorry, you’re just so fuckin’ hot sometimes. Can’t help myself,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’m hot? I was about to come already from your soaked pussy.” His voice is deep and it makes your cheeks go red. You feel a faint smile creep onto your lips, in which he mirrors.

You rest your forehead against his for a little, silently agreeing to take things slow for the rest of the night.

Luke’s hands find your ass and palm your cheeks while you sit up again. “Can we try something tonight? I- I saw something online so I looked into it. It made me curious,” he spoke. Your eyes widened a bit. “Yeah, what is it?”

“I read about this thing… called cockwarming,” you let out a small noise at the name, “It’s just like, me inside of you..? I don’t move when I’m in,” he finishes. You notice his neck is pink and it’s creeping up to his ears. You don’t really say anything mostly because you were still thinking. Wasn’t the point of sex to release?

Luke takes your silence as a no, “Sorry, we don’t have to. I was just interested, I understand.”

“No, love, I want to try. Sorry, I was just thinking about it.” You speak quickly, hoping to calm Luke down. You could see his nerves become more visible, embarrassed. His eyes widen again, “Really? You sure?” He questions. You nod, “Yeah. It’s hot.”

You ask him about his off behavior today, “Is this why you were a little weird today?” Luke nods. You say nothing else, dragging your body down towards the band of Luke’s boxers.

You snap the elastic against him, eliciting a gasp. You tug his boxers off him, and immediately his cock springs free. Your eyes are filled with hunger as you make your way back up to stroke him. “Oh my fuck,” Luke whimpers. You smirk, unable to not notice the red tip leaking with pearly white liquid.

You drag your hand off of him and push it inside of yourself, letting out a pornographic moan. “Oh,” Luke breathes. You take your fingers out of your cunt and wrap your hand around Luke’s length again, your wetness serving as a lubricant. “Holy fucking shit, you’re so hot.”

You work him slowly, not wanting to get him so riled up before he gets inside you. You know you’ve already failed though. “Need you to sit on my cock now, love. Please,” he cries. You let out a breath and remove your hand from him.

You make your way back up his body and Luke’s hands find your ass again, caressing you and nudging you up slowly to sit on him. “Honey, you’ve gotta put me in. Can’t take it,” He cries. You reach down and grab is hard cock before pushing it inside of you as you sit.

There’s always going to be a stretch that you’ll never get used to. The burn of his long, thick member pushing inside of you. You slide down very slowly and peer up to see Luke trying his best to hold in his noises. Once your sat, Luke’s jaw is clenched as he tries to relax around you.

“Feel so good around me, honey,” Your boyfriend whispers as he grabs your waist with his hands. You clench involuntarily at his words, letting out a whimper, and he groans deeply. “F-fuck baby! Don’t clench like that, can’t take it.”

You mumble an apology, although it comes out as a moan. You try your hardest for your walls not to grip around him, but you’re like a vice. You can’t help it. His whimpers are becoming louder and louder, and you realize your ability to take the reigns.

“Bein’ such a good boy for me Lu,” your voice is shaky, trying to pretend that his cock inside of you, so deep, isn’t affecting you. But it is. His dick twitches at your words, “Mmmph,” he breathes.

Luke loved to be in charge. You both knew that. But when you were experimenting, he would always switch between between the two roles. Today, with the way he was behaving, you knew he wanted you to take power.

“Yes, yes baby. B-bein’ the best for you, yeah.”

You dig your knees further into each side of the bed, getting him to go impossibly deeper inside of you. Every movement made he swears it gets tighter. “O-oh,” he lets out in a small moan. You kiss his neck, trying to distract him from the pain that he’s unable to do anything—to use you to work himself to release.

Finally, you both are settled, truly feeling one another.

His breath is heavy. You’re able to contain yourself and stabilize your body, but Luke is the opposite. He really thought this would be easier. More enjoyable. Not that he didn’t enjoy being inside of you, but when he was so pent up, all he wanted to do was move.

Nonetheless you two sit like that for a while, kissing on each other, sucking marks into skin, and relishing in the other’s dirty words.

“Such a dirty boy for me, Lu,” you pant, your resolve slowly slipping. “So dirty for me. Your cock in my pussy, not movin’, mhmm feels so good,” you gasp, and he lets out a wail before letting his head fall atop your breasts.

He lays it there for a little longer, relishing in the feeling of you soaked and clamped around him. He focuses on trying to hold back, not to lose all his control and take you right here. But he realizes, he’s only be disobeying his own request, and while he wants to try that sometime, he needs to have you. Now.

Before you know it, Luke fucks his hips impossibly closer to yours, and you gasp. “S-sorry baby… feels too good.” He retracts his hips, pulling you up a bit, before easing himself back in.

Your breaths come out quick, certainly not expecting this, but thanking whatever compelled him to do it. Little did you know that it was you. Your little moans, your dirty whispers, and your soaked pussy. God, it had him in a spiral. If Luke could go now, he would.

His noises though, are what’s getting to you the most. Because even though he’s been bold enough to make his own decisions, he can’t suppress his little whimpers.

Luke’s eyes glass over, “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, could sit here for hours.” You cry, “Y-yeah? Would you like that, love? How about I sit here… and I take what I want. Cream all over your cock over and over again and let you sit here and cry, begging for a little taste.” It’s like your cunt soaks him even more and your own words. And he feels it. “And then you’ll be so sensitive when you finally do get to cum, because i’ll just keep going baby. G’nna end up milking you dry.” You meet your hips with his, beginning to work against his thrusts.

But, your erotic words only make him fuck up into you harder, losing your rhythm you were attempting to set. His cries become louder, and all you’re hearing are his gasps and some slurred “Mmmphs.” You love him like this. Completely at your mercy.

You both get close pretty fast. Due to all the teasing, wordplay, and attempt to cockwarm, all of your feelings are heightened. Everything feels so much better than it usually does.

Luke grips your ass roughly, pushing you further into his grasp. His lips find yours, and it’s messy, yet passionate. His lips trail down from your lips to your jaw, suckling and licking. He slows his pace of fucking you, as he knows you both are close to your orgasms, and he wants to make this incredibly enjoyable for the both of you.

“Baby… I-I’m close,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. He pushes his crotch farther up into you, truly grasping onto the feeling of his cock inside of you because he doesn’t want to take advantage of it right now. It just feels too good for him to comprehend.

You sigh against him, “I know my love, me too.” He lets out a breath of relief. Thank God, he thinks, because if you weren’t right there with him, on the brink of release, he wouldn’t be able to last another few moments.

You unexpectedly topple into your orgasm first, a near scream tearing through your throat. The clenching of your cunt sends him right over the edge with you. You both express your pleasure loudly through words that humble together and loud breaths.

Luke feels your pussy soak his cock once more, and he swears you’ve never been this wet before. He’s never felt it. And he thanks himself for working up the courage to ask you to try something new because he never knew he’d get you this good.

His orgasm, along with yours, feels like absolute bliss. Pleasure tears through the both of you in insane amounts. You feel him paint the inside of you, and it will always feel impeccable. Nothing will ever come close.

“Oh my gosh,” you start to giggle against him as you collapse your body on top of his. “That was amazing, Lu.”

He kisses the top of your head once he regains composure, “Felt too fucking good. Always so good for me, my love.” He pauses. “Never felt you that wet before.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever even been that wet before. Made me feel amazing, tonight Luke. Was so different.” You start tracing patterns along his chest, as he hums softly along your words.

He takes a pause and starts thinking before speaking up after a while.

“Im sorry about ruining the whole cockwarming thing, uh… got too impatient and it just felt too good,” He frowns, realizing he might’ve ruined it for you as well.

“You didn’t ruin anything for me, baby. Felt so good I don’t even care…” You pause, “Let’s just do it now? You’re still inside of me.”

Luke’s face flushes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And when we wake up, take me,” and as soon as those words leave your mouth, Luke swears he’s hardening again already.

And you feel it. “Luke!”

“We need to go to sleep… like now. If I’m conscious for another five minutes I can’t promise I won’t fuck you again,” his gaze finds yours and his eyes darken.

You look up at him, meeting his stare, returning the same energy. “Can’t say I have a problem with that, Luke.”

[dyns33]

Family respect

Alfie and his Shelby wife are back for more adventures.

"He's back." was the first thing Ada said to her when she picked up the phone, and that was enough for Y/N to understand who she was talking about.

If she had hardly known her mother, who died when she was young, she had not really known her father well either, while he was still alive.

The relationship between Arthur Shelby Sr. and his family had always been complicated. Long before Y/N was found by Polly when she was still a child, abandoned in an orphanage.

It had been luck or fate that her father quickly spoke of her in a letter sent to his sister, writing that he had made a little mistake during a trip. That was what he named Y/N, his little mistake.

The rest of Shelby didn't see her that way. They had adored her from the moment they saw the girl, welcoming her as if she had always been there, as if they had the same mother, and protecting her against this drunken and tyrannical father.

There was still respect for the elders. This notion was important to the romani, and some therefore found it difficult to completely rebel against the man despite his many faults.

This was especially difficult for Arthur. He admired him when he was younger, and even though he often stood up for his brothers and sisters, he blindly followed him in all his dangerous plans.

He had often gotten into trouble because of their father. Tommy was very angry with him for that.

This naivety was undoubtedly one of the reasons why it was not Arthur who managed the family affairs even though he was the oldest.

He never complained about it. As he followed their father, he followed Thomas without question, recognizing that his little brother was smarter, more stubborn, better at business and discussion.

But the few times their father had passed through Birmingham again, he had criticized this absurd hierarchy, and even if Arthur eventually bowed his head to Tommy, there were always several days when he was at their father's side, ready to believe that he had changed.

“Where is Thomas ?” Y/N asked her sister, because she didn't want to hear more about their father at the moment.

"Probably in one of the neighboring farms, with horses, to calm down and stop himself from shooting someone between the eyes."

"And the others ?"

"Polly is talking to them in the kitchen. She thinks dad wants something. Money probably. He'll leave quickly when he gets what he's looking for. But I'm afraid of what will happen in the meantime."

"I'll take care of it. I'll find Arthur." Y/N promised, because absolutely anything could happen to Arthur Senior, no one would be sad, but leaving her brother was out of the question.

Ollie asked nothing when she ordered him to send his best men to look for her older brother, and to watch what he was doing. He just nodded, calling her "Madam Solomons" with great respect.

According to Alfie, she had seduced the poor boy, as well as many of his employees, the residents of Candem, and even the dog.

"Before, Cyril sat with me by the fire. Now he moans by the door until you come home. Where have you been, love ?"

“You know very well where I was.”

"Damn right. With Tommy, dear Tommy. Tell me, treacle, why are my men outside a bar instead of working, uh ? Because when I asked Ollie, he just shrugged his shoulders, saying that those were the orders, but I didn’t give those orders. Remind me who’s in charge here ?”

“Cyril.”

"Very funny, love. Hilarious. Why are my men following this crazy dog who serves as your brother ?"

Of course Y/N could have told him. It would have been simple, and Alfie would have sighed and muttered insults, because the whole thing was nonsense and he didn't really care because it wasn't his family.

Since it wasn't his family, she decided there was no need for him to know the details.

There was no need for him to hear about her father.

So she simply replied that Arthur was in trouble, which wasn't a lie, and that she was just checking to make sure he wasn't going to end up in prison, or worse.

If he noticed that she was hiding something, her husband accepted it, growling when he saw that she was petting the dog before giving him attention.

Several days passed, and Arthur Shelby Sr did not leave. The whole community was nervous, which made the London underground scene much more dangerous than usual.

So Y/N went by herself to look for her brother in the tenth pub he had visited this week, finding him alone at the counter while their father was talking with some men in another room.

"Little sis ! In my arms !" shouted the eldest cheerfully, hugging her tenderly.

“Come home with me.”

"I can't. Dad needs me for a case. A big thing."

"You know very well how this is going to end. It always ends the same way."

"You sound like Tommy… He's changed this time. He wants to make amends, he has the right for a chance."

"He got more chances than Judas got silver coins, Arthur. Please."

"Y/N ? Is that you ? You grew up, I almost didn't recognize you ! Beautiful. When I think that I saw you as a mistake, I was wrong, right, son ? A charming girl, all men would want her."

In that moment, she saw in her brother's eyes that he knew he had a choice. He could defend her, saying that no one talked about his little sister like that, not even their father. He could also keep quiet, nodding his head and not talking about her marriage.

But he had drunk a lot, and despite all this time he still had resentment towards Alfie, so he opened his stupid mouth.

“She married a Jew.”

Their father turned to Arthur with a huge frozen smile, waiting for a follow-up to this joke, before looking at Y/N again with a darker look, understanding that he was serious.

"… A Jew ? You married a pompous old cheapskate ?"

"Arthur, come home with me." Y/N insisted, trying to ignore everything around her brother.

"He's not just pompous, he's crazy. And a coward. And mean. He can't be trusted. I'm sure he's putting on an act to get to us, holding Y/N hostage."

"Well said, son. It's quite possible that's what happening. They know how to play, those dirty rats."

"Arthur, come home with me."

"I knew right away he was evil. Even before he killed Billy and betrayed us. I don't know why Tommy agreed to work with him again, or give him our sister's hand."

"Thomas has always been less clever than you. They're a bit sodomite, you know ? He was able to seduce several of us for sure."

"No… No, that bastard son of a bitch, I'll kill him."

"Arthur, insult my husband once more and you will never see me again."

The threat caught her brother's attention for a second, like the tears in her eyes, but their father continued to criticize Alfie, and as always Arthur followed him blindly, considering that nothing could happen to him if he imitated his father.

A hand then rested on her shoulder, while she hesitated between crying and hitting him. Alfie's smile was quick, only for her, as he held her close, watching the two Arthurs who were surprised to see him.

Y/N thought he would say something, but he only placed a kiss on her forehead, leading her outside, to the car that took them home.

"… I'm sorry."

"Why, treacle ? Because your father is an asshole and your brother is a moron ? I don't see how this is your fault."

“I’m still sorry.”

"Nothing I haven't already heard. I promise I've never slept with Tommy."

"You are not funny." she whispered as she sobbed, letting the tension leave her body. He muttered that she was probably right as he took her in his arms, not knowing what to do to comfort her.

It was not easy to lose a family member. Y/N had been close to all of her siblings, but Arthur had always been there for her, like she had always been there for him, standing up for him, respecting his ideas, making sure he was okay.

She loved him, but she also loved her husband, and she could not tolerate him being insulted like this. If she said she wouldn't talk to him anymore, then she wouldn't talk to him anymore.

So it was a shock to find him in the middle of her living room the next day, holding his cap with two hands, looking miserable and embarrassed. Y/N almost told him to leave, before seeing Alfie standing in the corner, tapping the ground with his cane.

"Well, come on, mate. The lady is waiting."

"… I'm sorry, lil sis."

“Where is father ?”

"In prison, I think. He organized bets, the coppers caught him. They would have had me if… I mean if…"

"If I hadn't saved his sorry ass." Alfie translated, raising his eyebrows when Arthur growled at him. "Maybe I should have left him, he made you cry after all and I didn't like it."

"Y/N… I'm sorry. Your husband is a cunt, but… But he's not that bad, I think. I see that you're happy and he treats you well. I want you happy. I'll try… If he doesn't deserve it, I won't knock his teeth out."

"Mazel tov ! I'll buy you a drink, brother-in-law, but I don't drink and I want you to leave. Well, come one. Out."

Her husband still gave Arthur time to hug his sister, who accepted his apologies on the condition that he finally stopped following their father in his usual bullshit.

To avoid any problems, she only notice out loud after he had left that he had not winced when Alfie called him "brother-in-law".

“Hangover, probably.”

"Or he considers you part of the family now. Normally it's Polly, Tommy, John or me who keep him from completely tripping."

"If you hadn't cried, I would have let him drown in his beer and piss, treacle."

"I wonder how the cops knew, our father is often quite secretive. He moslty ruins everything by wanting more money or insulting someone."

"Oh. Someone who looks like Ollie may or may not have called the police on orders from their boss." Alfie muttered, pouting a little.

"… Arthur will kill you if he finds out."

"He said you were a mistake. Nobody says my wife is a mistake. Would you rather he be in jail or at the bottom of the Thames ? Now I'm sleepy, love. I've been running all night to find your stupid brother, come to bed with me."

“It’s nine in the morning.”

"So what ?"

The only true thing her brother had said was that Alfie was insane, but that wasn't a bad thing. His madness was charming, tender and funny, and if one day they had children, he would be the most protective and caring father in the world.

You only had to see him with Cyril to be sure, even if he slammed the door in the dog's face to be alone for a few hours, only letting him in because he couldn't concentrate anymore. cause of the squealing.

"There you go. Before, he stayed on the ground, now he jumps in my place to press against you, while it's me who opens the door for him despite the cold and my poor back."

“Shut up Alfie and go back to sleep.”

"It is noon."

"Come here."

"Very well, damn woman. You will explain to my men why I was not at work."

Since they had all heard about Y/N's family troubles, they adored her, and were quite happy that the boss wasn't there to yell at them, no one asked Y/N why Alfie had been absent. They even gave her flowers, which greatly annoyed the King of Camden.

They didn't ask if he wanted flowers too. The Shelby sent him some gifts, bottles, money and a horse, without having to say why, and Alfie was in a weird mood for the rest of the day.

Y/N only smiled, knowing that he was lost but proud to be accepted by her family.

[irwinsblender]

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Copyright © 2024 irwinsblender. all of my works are original content and are prohibited to be reposted or copied on any other platform in any format.

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welcome ! ✿

im 21, my pronouns are she/her, i’m from the uk and i got back into writing about a year ago after a short break!

i write for 5sos and wallows! so please feel free to send in any requests!

my inbox is also always open if anyone just wants to chat!! :)

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last updated: october 31st 2024

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ashton irwin:

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[sinning5sos]

Having a baby with Ashton would include...

1/4 in the father-to-be series :

Ashton ~ would be a helicopter partner near the end of your pregnancy, making sure you had anything you wanted and everything you needed.

You stared down at your stomach, admiring yet feeling anxious at the protrusion. You were at the thirty-nine week mark, and there wasn’t much that you could do at this point. You already knew you were having a girl, your excitement could hardly be contained but that was nothing compared to your husband. 

You listened to him humming along in the other room, only pausing when a lyric popped into his head and rubbed your stomach mindlessly. 

When you had that first wave of nausea so long ago, then you peed on those sticks, Ashton had been so excited. He still was, sometimes to the point of too much excitement for you. But the two of you were happy to finally have a child together, a dream you’ve both shared for a few years now.

You sighed as you realized you had to pee, which meant that you had to get out of your comfy chair, a chair that Ashton had bought when you had hit the thirty week mark stating that, “My love and my love deserve the best.”

You heaved forward slightly, but barely moved and you huffed as you sank back into the chair. You tried once more, but fell back. This chair was too comfortable.

“Babe?” You called, and heard a pencil fall onto the desk and his chair scoot back instantly, and he nearly tripped over his feet as he came around the corner.

“Yes, what is it? Is it time?” He asked, kneeling at the foot of the chair and you giggled as you shook your head.

“You think that if I was going into labor, I’m just going to call for you?” You said, and he chuckled as he kissed the top of your stomach, “No, I just have to pee darling.”

“Ah,” He replied. He stood and held his hands out for you to take, and using your momentum and Ashtons help, you were finally able to get to your feet. You felt the baby shift slightly inside of you, a feeling you couldn’t tell if you enjoyed or not, and let out a deep breath. His eyes widened in concern, but he remained quiet.

“Pee time,” You mumbled, and Ashton helped you walk over into the bathroom. You shut the door behind you, smiling to yourself as you saw his feet cast a shadow underneath the door, “Ash, I can pee just fine.”

“I know, I just want to help you.”

“You’ve done more for me Ashton, than any other person in this world.”

Other pregnancy things from Ash would include - 

Countless foot massages and helping you lotion your feet/legs

Literally a n y t h i n g you wanted, you got it

Him spoiling the baby with lots of clothes and toys

VERY PROTECTIVE

To the point where it’s kinda annoying but also he’s a father to be and you love how dedicated he is

Lots of affirmation from him

He’d be doing lots of research on everything and anything baby related

Because he doesn’t want to be like his dad so he’s going to try his best in every single fucking thing possible

And he’d tell you every single day how thankful he is for you and how he’s so excited to do this with you

He’d try to convince you to do anal just once

But he’d also spoil you

[callsignspark]

anything for you | part one

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x Rebecca Hermann (fem!OC)

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, implied violence against women/children, discussions of murder (nothing explicit/gory), inaccuracies about hotel ownership, eventual smut, warnings to be added as needed 

word count: 4.7k

series masterlist | main masterlist

note: I wrote and edited this in about eight hours on Tuesday last week and then got my appendix out on Wednesday, so it's a bit later than I said it would be. Some friends and moots are tagged at the end, have a good weekend!

Friday, February 10, 2023 | San Diego, CA | 2100 PST

It was late. Later than she ever worked. But the project was done, the week was over, and now the weekend could be enjoyed. Daydreams of a hot bath and chocolate are interrupted by an alert from her security system.

Someone is in her house.

A quick review of the cameras told her it was one of the idiots that hung around her father – the insignia on his jacket sleeve a dead giveaway – and her heart rate slightly slowed. She would have to find out the identity of the man in her home once she got there. Whoever it was, he was lucky enough to avoid facing the cameras but apparently not smart enough to realize they were there. Maybe she’d introduce him to the baseball bat that had a permanent home in her trunk. Pedal to the floor, she stewed in her anger on the drive home and created a simple six-step plan:

1. Park around the corner to avoid detection. 2. Sneak through Mrs. Klempner's backyard. (Do not destroy the roses.) 3. Review live footage and determine best entry point. 4a. If identity of man is unknown – subdue with baseball bat. 4b. If identity of man is known... subdue with baseball bat anyway. 5. Deal with idiot once consciousness is regained. 6. Suffer consequences from dipshit father at a later time.

As she slips through the gate of her back fence, arms covered in scratches from rose bushes and rage simmering in her chest, she reminds herself to be grateful that her neighbor's overgrown rat of a dog (and her mortal enemy) is already inside. A normal day would find Rufus barking from sunrise to whenever the elderly Mrs. Klempner remembered to let him back in the house. Taking his unnaturally high anger level out at anything and everything from the mailman (who agreed the obese Jack Russell terrier was a spawn of the devil himself) to a leaf that dared to fall within a 50-foot radius of his dog house.

"Never barks at anything actually important, though, stupid four-legged ball of blubber." She mutters to herself as she hides under the dining room window. "Okay, fuck head, let's see where you are."

Flicking through the feeds, she finds the man standing in her kitchen with his back still to the camera, drinking from one of the nice crystal glasses gifted to her by her mother. The nerve of this man!

Stashing her phone away, she peeks through the dining room window, only to find her mystery guest rummaging through her freshly stocked fridge. Her mouth drops when he comes back out with one of the peanut butter hearts she had bought herself as a Valentine's Day treat. I haven’t even had one of those yet! 

She doesn’t recognize the blonde man just from his ridiculously wide shoulders, but she does notice the flex of his arms as he unwraps the stolen sweet. None of the guys in her father’s crew are that broad. That means it’s someone from the Daggers. Which can only mean bad news. Or maybe she’ll get lucky, and the intruder will have news that her father is dead. Then he turns, she can feel the blood drain from her face as nausea creeps up her throat – luck was not on her side tonight. She knows the man standing in her kitchen.

Jacob Seresin. The Hangman.

Using the shadows of her house as cover, she slowly begins to move back toward the fence gate, trying to give her scrambling brain time to think of a new plan.

1. Slowly, quietly move to the gate – keep eyes on the house the whole time. 2. Sprint back to the car. Hit the highway. Head south. 3. At the first rest stop, pull as much cash from the ATM as possible. 4. Buy gas, scissors, hair dye, and as much non-perishable food as possible on a credit card. 5. Repeat steps 3 and 4 two more times. Create a paper trail. Keep moving south. 6. At the third stop: ditch cards, phone, and ID in the garbage on the way out. 7. Continue south for another 10 miles, then swing back to the north. 8. Head for Canada. Drive safe. Don't get pulled over – remember, no ID. 9. Once in Seattle, contact Vinnie for help crossing the-

"Where do you think you're going?"

The next ninety seconds happen fast. In just a few moments, the bat is swiped from her hand, and her mouth is bound with what she can only hope is a clean cloth. Two sets of hands restrain her arms, and a third her ankles. But only after she makes contact with someone’s family jewels. The satisfaction at the sound of his grunt and the thump of him dropping to his knees doesn’t last long as she’s dragged toward her own home. All of her attempts to break free or scream for help are woefully unsuccessful.

The back door opens, the silhouette of The Hangman filling the frame. "Will you get her inside already?"

"Something isn't right, Jake." The tall, bespectacled man on her left grunts, struggling to get the wiggling woman into the house without hurting her.

"She's been fighting us the entire way! Bob, let go; I’m just gonna carry her in." The even taller brunette on her right throws her into a fireman's carry and brings her into the house. "I don't think she knows what's going on."

"Ya fucking think, Bradshaw? Just get her in a chair and make sure she can't move. Where the fuck is Javy?"

A man with a thick mustache chokes back laughter. "Oh man, he took the bat out of her hands, and she got him right in the balls. Direct hit. Took him right down to his fucking knees. He's still out there trying to catch his breath."

"Someone, please go get him." The exasperation is clear in his voice, and even as she fights getting tied to a dining room chair, she can't help but think that the most feared man in the city looks exhausted.

"You don't know why I'm here, do you?"

The question catches her by surprise, allowing the men to finish securing her feet. She hadn't been directly addressed since being grabbed in the backyard. She stares at him, hoping her expression properly conveys the "I can't speak because your fucking goons gagged me, you idiot" that she's trying to project.

"I'm not here to hurt you."

She knows her "yeah fucking right" comes through clearly because he huffs a laugh.

"I'm not. And clearly, your father didn't tell you I would be here tonight, or you wouldn't be tied to a chair right now." The room’s attention is stolen by movement at the back door, "You alright, Machado?"

"I'm fine.”

“Man, she got you good!” A curly-haired man crows at him.

“Garcia! Shut up, all of you!” He hisses at the men trying not to laugh before nodding at his boss. “I'll be okay."

"Good. Would hate for your lovely wife to not get those children she so dearly wants." He crouches in front of her, "Now, back to you. I'm not here to hurt you, so I'm going to take this off, explain why we're here, and you're not going to scream. Do you understand?"

She takes a second before nodding, only agreeing because the cloth in her mouth is starting to make her gag reflex act up. "Alright, lean forward a little bit."

She does as she's told, slightly shaking as his hands come uncomfortably close to her neck. She knows what damage those hands could do; what damage they have done. She closes her eyes, and next week’s headlines light up her eyelids like a Broadway marquee.

Local woman found strangled in her San Diego home. 

Local woman with ties to organized crime found tied to dining room chair. 

Local woman unfairly paying for the crimes of her idiot father at the hands of his boss, city's wealthiest entrepreneur.

“Hey, open your eyes. Look at me, Rebecca.” The command is given gently but firmly. She obeys, not wanting to upset him now that she has no hope of escape. “There we go. Oh shit. Please don’t cry; I’m not here to hurt you. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already.”

“Forgive me, but you’ll have to excuse me for not believing you.” She sniffles, tears escaping without permission, voice shaking even as she snarks at him. “Especially since you mentioned my father.”

“You’re like he said you would be. You know who I am, then?” Amusement dances in his eyes and his smile sharpens when she nods. “Who am I?”

“Jacob Seresin: CEO and chairman of Eagle Hotels and Resorts. But better known around the city as “The Hangman” – head of the Daggers.” Her resolve strengthens, and she vows not to show any more weakness. “How did you get in my house?”

“Very good. You can call me Jake.” His smug, condescending tone brings her blood back up to boil.

“Okay, Jake.” She spits his name back at him. “Why are you here? What did my father do?”

“When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“Six months ago, on my sister’s birthday. How did you-”

“Delilah, right?” He interrupts, waiting for her confirmation. “I’ve met her a few times. She seems like a good kid.”

“She is.” Her words are almost silent, heart pounding from the terrifying knowledge that this man knows who her sister is. “Why are you here?”

He doesn’t reply; instead stands and grabs a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge, “Got any straws?”

“Why are you here?” Her voice is stronger again, more concerned with why her baby sister is part of the conversation than the beverage needs of the dangerous man shuffling through her kitchen drawers.

He tuts at her, “One thing at a time. Where are your straws?”

“Why are you-” She cuts herself off, sighing when it becomes clear that he’s not going to stop until she answers his question. “Drawer to the right of the stove, clear container.”

“Oh, reusable kinda gal, huh? Save the turtles and all that? Rock on.” He grabs a chair and sits across from her, so close that their knees touch, before cracking the bottle and plopping the straw in. “Take a sip. I’m sure your throat is sore from all the screaming.”

She shifts forward, hesitant but willing to drink it since she saw him open it. She thanks him, the manners her mother instilled in her automatically coming out, and immediately scolds herself for being kind to the monstrous man in front of her.

“You’re welcome.” He sets the bottle on the table and leans back in his chair, folding his arms across his broad chest. “What do you know about the Daggers?”

“Not much. Why are you here?”

“You’re very stubborn; has anyone ever told you that? Explain how much “not much” is, and I’ll answer your questions.”

“I know how the Dagger Organization was formed. I know you’re the head of the Daggers, a position you inherited from your father, who inherited it from his father, and so on. You have a large group of advisors made up of two smaller groups. One group you trust because they’re your people. I’m guessing the men in my kitchen are part of that group.” She takes a beat, glancing at the five men around her island, pretending not to listen. “The other group, not so much. They were your father’s advisors, and more than one of them is rumored to be the reason you inherited your position. My father is part of that group, and likely the one you trust the least, given how he was your father’s right-hand man at the time of his death. Not to mention the fact that he’s a huge idiot. That’s all I know; I don’t understand how the hierarchy works or anything like that. Why are you here?”

His eyebrows raise – surprised or impressed, she can’t tell. “You know more than I thought you would by your “not much” response.”

“Yeah, well, gotta know your family history, right?” He stifles a laugh at her sarcastic tone. Her father warned of an attitude, but he didn’t mention her sense of humor. “How did you get in?”

“If I untie you, you gonna try to run?” He avoids the question, lips quirking when she squirms at his eyes running up and down her body, trying to assess if she’ll fight him when she’s untied. “Or kick Javy in the crotch again? His wife really is hoping to get a few kids out of him.”

“I won’t run.” She confirms, then mutters to herself, “It’s not like I would get very far anyway…”

He hums in agreement as he moves to free her legs first. “You’re a smart one.”

“I do alright.”

“Rebecca, I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. A bachelor’s degree in mathematics and two master's degrees? Seem pretty damn smart to me.” He moves behind her chair to unite her hands. “How are your wrists, sweetheart? Did Bradshaw do it too tight? I’ll let you take a shot at him if it was too much.”

She forces herself to ignore how her stomach flips at the term of endearment and the way his hand gently rubs her shoulder on his way back to his chair. She examines her wrists and rotates them to check for injury, reminding herself of the games men like him play. It’s not real. He brought up Delilah as a threat. It’s not real. He’s being kind, so you’ll trust him, and that’s when bad things happen. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not- 

“Do your wrists hurt?”

“They’re fine, thank you.” Her voice sharper than she means it to be. Calm down. Don’t give him a reason to make them hurt. 

“You sure? They look a little red.”

“It’s fine; I’m sure it’ll go away soon.” His eyebrows lift in doubt as she rubs her wrists, trying to soothe the slight rope burn she got from struggling.

Play him back, don’t give him the upper hand. “I was sorry to hear about your dad; he was always kind to me.”

“Drink some more Gatorade.” His voice is stiffer than before.

Bullseye. 

She looks up from her wrists, eyes darting between the orange liquid and the man opposite her. When she doesn’t move, he nods at the bottle, a silent order to drink. He continues on after she complies, looking pleased. “What do you know about the Tomcat arrangement?”

She shakes her head. “I know it exists. I heard my father mention it once or twice in passing; when I still lived at his house, but I don’t know what it is. You still haven’t answered my questions.”

“When my great-great-grandfather created the Daggers, he did it with three other families.”

“The Bradshaws, the Kazanskys, and the Hermanns.”

“Yes, as you know, Albert Hermann – your great-great-grandfather – was one of the four founding members. What started as equal power between the four families changed over time. My family ended up as the leaders, and an agreement was made during our great-grandfather’s time. First, so long as there is a male heir to lead the next generation, the Seresins stay as the lead family. The other three families remain at the top of the chain of command. The leader taking their advice and counsel. His most trusted allies. The second part of the agreement is that whenever possible, the heir – the future leader – will marry a daughter of one of the other families. To keep the power balanced as much as possible between the families. As a way of ensuring that the Seresins don’t end up with too much power. And now that I’ve taken over my father, it’s time for me to get married.”

She stays quiet, stomach twisting at the information. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Rebecca, your family is the only family with the right lineage and daughters suitable enough to satisfy the Tomcat arrangement.”

“Daughters? Daughters! My sister is being considered?!” She lunges at him. “She’s eighteen! You vile, disgusting pig! You fucking piece of shit!”

“Will you stop it?” He easily stops her attack, her five-and-a-half-foot frame no match against his six-foot-two body. She struggles against his hold on her wrists, unwilling to stop fighting until she gets a decent hit. “If you don’t knock it off, I’m going to tie you back up.”

When she doesn’t listen, he flips her around, gathers both wrists behind her back, bends her over the dining room table, and uses his weight to keep her in place, “Enough.��� 

It kills the fight in her. “She’s only eighteen! She’s just a baby! I was trying to get her out of there. I was supposed to get her out of there! I promised! I promised I would. I promised…” Sobs wrack her body, choking the words in her throat.

The house is silent except for her crying, the sound amplified from where her face is pressed against the table.

“Stop crying. Please stop crying. Jesus, your fucking father was supposed to have explained this to you already.” Jake sighs, resting his head against her shoulder blade. Nothing had gone in his favor today. “I don’t want to marry your sister.”

Her heart skips a beat, and her voice is thick with tears when she asks, “...what?”

“I don’t want to marry her. She’s practically a child. C’mon, take a drink.” He lets her up and grabs a tissue from the sideboard in her dining room. “Per the Tomcat agreement, after taking control, if I’m not already married, I have six months to get engaged to a woman who meets the requirements of the agreement. And then a year to marry her. My advisors reminded me today that I only have two months left to get engaged. Your father ever so kindly reminded me that your family is the only one with women that meet the Tomcat terms. He was quick to offer your sister to me, who I refused even quicker. She’s young enough I could practically be her father. It has to be you.”

“No.” Her answer comes swift and firm. No more playing into her father’s hand.

“If you refuse, he’ll kill you – he’ll do it himself if he has to – and then he’ll force your sister to marry me. And I won’t be able to stop it.”

She scoffed as she wiped at her nose, “You are the most powerful man in the city, probably the fucking state. To say you couldn’t stop it is absolutely ridiculous!”

“I wish that were true, but there’s still too many of the old guard, too many stuck in the ways of our fathers and grandfathers. I refuse, they’ll kill me, and your sister will be forced to marry one of my uncles – for the sake of keeping the Seresin name in power. Or worse, your father will try to take control, and god knows what will happen if he gets a taste of any real power.” He takes a breath, trying to gauge the reaction of his future bride. “I know this isn’t what you want. It’s not what I want either, having these archaic rules forced on us. But if we don’t play along, things will get much worse.”

“I- I… is this really the only way my sister stays safe?”

He didn’t think he had ever seen such sadness before and tried to answer as gently as possible. “I’m sorry, Rebecca, but it is.”

“Can you guarantee that?”

“I guarantee she’ll be safe from harm of the Daggers. You know I can’t promise anything more than that.”

She nods, eyes distant as she thinks before she straightens and looks him in the eye. “I have conditions.”

“I really don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands.”

“I think I am, actually. Sure, if I refuse, I end up dead. But so do you. And my father will make your family’s life a living hell, I have no doubt. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s being a bastard to women. Besides, they’re not demands; they’re… conditions – compromises, really – and quite simple ones at that.”

He grits his teeth, knowing she’s right and wishing she wasn’t quite so smart. “Fine. What are your conditions?”

“My sister is allowed to do whatever she wants. And we’ll pay for it, whatever it is. If she wants to go to college, her tuition is fully funded. If she wants to stay in San Diego, volunteering at animal shelters and surfing all day long, we’ll buy an apartment for her. I don’t care what she does, as long as it’s her choice, and she doesn’t have to live with my father anymore.”

“Agreed. We’ll get her out of there as soon as the wedding is over. What else?”

“She can’t know the circumstances of my agreement. She’ll obviously know why I’m the one you’re marrying – why we’re getting married in the first place, she’s not an idiot – but she can’t know that she was the one offered up by my father and I’m only doing this to save her.”

“Done. What else?”

“I know we’ll have to announce our engagement, but I need a month before we take it public. That’s how long I need to give my notice at work and do a proper turnover so I don’t screw my team over.”

“You don’t have to quit, you know? You can keep working if you want to.”

“I know, but let’s face it, as the wife of one of California’s most widely known men – in good ways and bad – it’d be hard to keep working like I do now. And with your reputation, there would be cries of corruption and protests. I’d end up constantly harassed by press and, honestly, probably my coworkers. They’re not exacting your biggest fans. But I do want to keep working. I can’t be someone who sits at home all day, not having anything to do. I’ll go crazy.”

“We’ll find you something at Eagle. Anything you want – the business side, the volunteer and charity team, anything. Or you can start something of your own. We’ll figure it out, Rebecca.”

She breaks eye contact for a second, feeling flustered under the intensity of his attention.“I assume I’ll be moving in with you?”

He nods, “I’d actually like you to do that as soon as possible. You’ve always had a target on you because of your father, but being with me just makes it grow a hundred times. I want one of my people with you wherever you go out in public. Not only will our rivals be a problem, but I’m not counting your father out either.”

“My sister gets a guard too. Anyone who knows anything about me knows that I would do anything to protect her. She is my- our biggest vulnerability.”

“Done. What else?”

“If I’m moving in with you, I’d like to sell this house. And the money from the sale will be mine.”

“You don’t have to worry about money. You’ll have full access to all of my accounts.”

“The money will go into my account that you will not have access to.”

“I’m not going to steal from you.”

“I’m not worried about you stealing. It’s to protect myself… just in case.”

His face softens in understanding. “The money will go into your account, which I will not have access to. I will pay for the realtor and any fees associated with the sale; you’ll get to keep as much as possible.”

“That’s not necessary; I can pay for-”

“I’m sure you can. But I’m going to anyway.” He holds up his hand when she attempts to protest. “You’re not going to win this one, so save it for another fight. What else?”

“Fine.” She huffs an annoyed breath out of her nose. “I’ll need to update my will to account for all of these changes.”

“I was already planning on bringing in the lawyers; we’ll get everything set before the engagement announcement.”

“I’d like my own lawyer to review everything.”

“You have a lawyer? Why?”

“Does it matter?” Her voice is sharp again, but it’s different this time – the word defensive flashes in his mind.

“No, I’m just surprised. Who is it? We’ll get them on retainer, but their office will be solely dedicated to you.”

“Peter Spartz of the Spartz Brothers.”

“Really? He’s good. I’ll have the legal team set up a meeting to get everything in place. What else?”

“I want to manage the size of the wedding. I know between Eagle and the Daggers, you have an obligation to invite a ridiculous amount of people, and they are all welcome to come to the reception. But I want the ceremony itself to be as small as possible. I don’t want to get up there and vow myself to you in front of a thousand of your closest business associates if I don’t have to.”

“We can do that. What else do you want for the wedding?”

“What do you mean?”

Her confusion confuses him. “What do you mean “what do I mean”? What do you want the wedding to look like? Flowers? Your dress?”

“Oh, I guess we actually have to plan a wedding. Fuck.” She looked annoyed at the prospect of having to plan their nuptials. “I really don’t care what we do.”

“You don’t care what your wedding looks like?”

“I- no? Should I? It’s not like we’re doing this because we love each other. Or even like each other. We’re fulfilling an obligation our grandfathers put in place a million years ago so that we don’t end up in shallow graves in the middle of the Mojave. Besides, I don’t know how you would even begin to plan a wedding…” Her voice trails off, slightly embarrassed that she isn’t prepared with this information already.

“That’s fine. We can get a wedding planner. My mom can help, our sisters can too. I’m sure whatever you decide will be fine.”

“You’re not going to help?”

“Oh, I’ll be giving input on the important things. Cake flavor, what’s being served for dinner, of course, the booze, and the honeymoon… But the only thing that matters to me is that we're legally married by the end of the night. I don’t care what it looks like to get us there, just as long as you like it.”

Her face twists deeper, unhappy at the thought of having to make all the decisions by herself. “So, if I make our colors Barbie pink and vomit yellow, force you to wear a kilt that’s five inches long – even though you’re not Scottish – and insist that we decorate with nothing but rare and expensive orchids that you’re extremely allergic to, you’re going to be good with that?”

“I’m fine with all of that.” He smirks at the surprise and annoyance on her face. “Oh, don’t be shocked, sweetheart. Like I said, whatever you want. Happy wife, happy life, and all that. Anything else before I propose, you say yes, and we live mildly ever after?”

“One more thing.”

“Anything for you, my dear.” His teasing tone makes her smile briefly, but it disappears as quickly as it came, her expression hardening.

“This one stays between us,” she nods towards the kitchen.

“Out, now.” His men move immediately, the soon-to-be-married couple watching them file out the back door.

She turns to him once it clicks shut, face made of stone and eyes full of fire. “I don’t care how it gets done. If you do it yourself, if you have someone else do it, it can be messy, or you can make it look like an accident – maybe it looks like a heart attack. I don’t care. But the first time the opportunity presents itself: you kill my father.”

The Hangman appears before her very eyes, his smile sending chills down her spine and making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. For the first time all evening, she truly sees the blonde in front of her as the ruthless, cold-blooded man he’s known to be.

“Anything for you, my dear.” 

tagging:

@bussyslayer333 | @callsignvalley | @gretagerwigsmuse | @hangmanapologist | @hangmanbrainrot | @mothdruid | @mouseymagines | @notroosterbradshaw | @princessphilly | @rhettabbotts | @roleycoleyreccenter | @roosterbruiser | @ryebecca | @theharddeck | @withahappyrefrain

credit for dividers here

[gothluke]

OMG LUKE 🍑

[cheeriochat]

Those like little mini-verse little blind bag things are just Re-Ment miniatures for straight people.

I said what I said.

[awardswatcherik]

2024 AFI FEST Announces Full Lineup, Adds 'September 5,' 'All We Imagine as Light,' Hillary Clinton-produced 'Zurawski v Texas' and More

[iridescentis]

Power & Control by MARINA sounds like the plot of a nischa fic

[inthepassengerside]

Halloween

warnings: oral (f), fingering, sir like once, dirty talk, cuddling before and after

a/n: this is old </3

masterlist

It was getting late. You had decided to go to a party closer an opposite side of the city with your friends—who were best friends with a group of boys.

It was a Halloween party, you had just dressed up as a simple angel. You had nothing in your closet as it was a last minute decision to go, and that was the only thing you could put together from previous years.

It was your third year of college, and you weren’t one to turn down a party. Even though you were upset at your friends for feeling the need to attend an hour before it begun, you still went. It was Halloween! You wanted to have fun.

So, you put on your white eyeliner and cute outfit and decided to go have a ball. You might have looked a little childish since your friends dressed, well, to be undressed, but, you hoped they could get some and have an eventful night. You weren’t looking for anything other than a good time.

As to the particular boys who were hosting this party, they were all nice. Calum was the closest to you guys, always checking up in the group chats and reaching out to invite you to these type of things.

None of the boys were dressed up, each in comfortable house attire. You thought it was very lame, not the type of energy a Halloween party should have.

Sometimes you felt forgotten, but it wasn’t anything towards your friends. You just weren’t as close to all the people they were. You got along with them well, Ashton, Michael, Calum, and Luke. You had spoken to Luke less than the others, as he was a little shy, but you knew he was a good guy.

As it was getting late, an incredibly heavy thunderstorm had begun. The people in the room lessened as bodies were leaving and you and your friends helped clean up. Nobody ever bothered to stick around for that part.

“Wow, it’s incredible outside,” Michael said as he walked to throw out some garbage he picked up.

“Oh shit! What are we going to do? We can’t drive home in this. The one time we all stayed sober, too,” Your friend let out a chuckle.

As all they all talked amongst themselves they decided it was the best to spend the night. Heat rose to your cheeks. Where were you going to sleep? You didn’t like sharing rooms or spending the night anywhere other than your bed. Thunderstorms terrified you already.

You sighed to yourself and sat down on the sofa as you finished your last spot of cleaning.

“There’s a spare bedroom upstairs. It’s a queen sized bed. There are four of you though, anyone can take the floor or we can pull out some cushions from this couch,” Ashton shrugged.

You spoke up before anyone else took the offer, “If you guys are all cool with sharing a bed I’ll just take the couch down here,”

��Are you sure? There can be enough space if anyone wants to stay in our rooms too,” Calum said.

Luke was looking at his feet. He ruffled a hand through his hair and then pulled out his phone, sitting down across from you.

“Nah, thank you, but it’s fine. I honestly prefer it,” You sent him a shy smile, to which he mirrored back.

Your eyes landed on your friends, who were each sending you apologetic looks from across the room. You also smiled their way, waving your hand, telling them not to worry about it.

Ashton sighed, “Well, it’s been a long day guys, so I’m heading up. Thank you all for coming, we’ll see you in the morning.”

Everyone agreed and said goodnight, piling up the stairs one after another, except Luke, who wandered a few steps away into his room and shut the door.

It actually felt nice, the air conditioner kept the room cool and a comforting silence.

The only thing that sucked was the clothes you had on. You were waiting for someone to offer, but you’re sure it just slipped their minds. You were wondering if you could pull off just sleeping in your costume, but the thought of your skirt riding up and one of the guys finding you on the couch exposed made you nervous. You wandered over to Luke’s room since he was the closest and knocked on his door.

It took him a minute before he opened the door, his hair matted against his forehead and his face a little red, breathing heavy which was concerning. You decided not to dwell on it and just ask before he fell asleep. It had been a solid fifteen minutes after everyone said goodnight.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t sleep in these clothes. Do you mind if I borrow some? I swear I’ll have them back in the morning.” You rambled, biting the inside of your cheek out of nervousness. You wouldn’t feel this bad if you had talked to him on the regular, but you didn’t.

It took him a little while before he actually responded, just staring at you, “Yeah, yeah of course.”

Luke opened the door wider so you could walk in. You took the time to admire the small, but comfortable room he had as you waited for some clothes. A tiny sofa chair, guitars, and posters aligned in a corner along with other items that resembled his character.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to see Luke, holding folded items as he extended them out to you.

“Thank you so much,” You said as you showed a small smile, “Like I said I’ll have these back tomorrow.”

He waved, “Stop, I don’t care about that. Get some sleep. There’s a bathroom along the other side of this wall for you to change.”

You glanced out the door to where he pointed and started walking towards it.

“Goodnight, I’ll see you in the morning,” You said to the blonde boy, making your way into the bathroom.

You set the clothes on top of the sink and started undressing. He had given you four items. A pair of boxers, a t-shirt, crewneck, and sweatpants. You put on the boxers and t-shirt and left the others on the sink folded next to your costume.

The thought of wearing another boy’s clothing made you blush, but you pushed the thought away just as fast as it entered your mind.

It was no doubt Luke was a very attractive man. You end up feeling upset sometimes that you’re not close with him because you want to spend more time with him. He’s also part of the reason you came to this party.

Flicking off the lights, you shut the door and made yourself comfortable on the couch. Ashton had brought you down pillows and covers as well.

You spent the next ten minutes scrolling on your phone before attempting to go to sleep.

———————————————————————————

Flashes of white keep you unsteady for the next half hour.

The uncomfortable couch didn’t help, the whole situation made you break out in sweats. Readjusting your position for what felt like the hundredth time that night, you ended up on your back.

Thunder roared as you jolted. You sat up, you were never going to fall asleep.

Before you could shut your eyes in effort to ease your restlessness, a door squeaked open and light dimly lit the room. Your head turned, noticing Luke standing in the doorway.

“Are you ever going to fall asleep?” He asked, tone nothing but serious.

You felt so embarrassed. You figured it wouldn’t be that obvious you were tossing and turning, but the noises of the couch creaking every time you turned didn’t help, “I’m so sorry. Did I wake you?”

He rubbed his tired eyes, “What’s keeping you awake?”

“The storm, and I can’t seem to get comfortable.”

He walked towards you and reached to collect your pillows and sheets, “Come sleep in my room. There’s only one window and I have thick curtains.”

“No, no, I promise you it’s fine.”

“You’re not going to fall asleep out here. C’mon.”

You sighed, “Thank you.”

He smiled, “Don’t mention it.”

You walked into his room and he put your pillows and sheets on the recliner. Walking towards it, Luke’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?”

“Um, getting ready to sleep.”

“You’re taking the bed, don’t even think about arguing it’s too late for that.”

You shook your head. “Luke I already feel guilty about waking you up. Please let me take the chair.”

You heard fake snores. Wow, okay.

You chucked to yourself. “Thank you.” Getting into his unmade bed, you flicked off the lamp on the nightstand as you both said goodnight.

Yet the thunderstorm was only getting worse. You spent the next five minutes embracing the cold sheets before realizing you were too scared to sleep alone.

You felt so embarrassed. Back home, you were able to tell one of your girlfriends to sleep in the same bed- yet share a respectable distance.

Shivers went down your spine. You had to suck it up, just for one night.

Before you could let your thoughts wander any deeper, you felt the bed dip and a faint smell of cologne. “I can see you shiver every time there’s movement outside. Is this okay? Are you uncomfortable?” Luke was spooning you— he draped his hand over your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You could cry, really, and the last few hours emphasized feelings for this boy that you didn’t know were already there. You felt your entire body get hot, yet all tension left it at the same time. You eased into his touch, pushing your head further into the pillows which resulted to his in your neck. You swore there were tears welling in your eyes.

“Yeah, very comfortable. Thanks.” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He didn’t break his position. “We’re in a really intimate position right now, so I feel like there’s no other time to bring this up, but, I really want to get to know you better. I really like you,” the blonde chuckled.

“I do too, Luke. I would love to spend more time with you.”

You swore you were dreaming. You were all alone a few minutes ago, and now you’re sleeping in Luke’s bed— with him.

You felt his fingers move to your side, the digits playing and fidgeting with your exposed skin. He untucked his head from your neck, instead moving your hair over your shoulder and kissing along the space he created.

Heat immediately erupted all over your body. God, it’s been so long— too long— since you’ve been touched.

You melt into him, arching and breathing heavy. He sits up, leaving you both on your side, but to get easier access to your body.

Luke continues suckling on your neck, making noticeable marks no doubt. He nips at your ear, creating marks down your jaw. The blonde continues his suckling for a while, going back and licking at each of the marks before flipping you on your back.

You both can barely see each other, Luke flicks on the lamp next to his bed yet it’s still so dark you can only see his prominent features.

His face is flushed, lips parted and puffed, hair disheveled. So much like when you opened the door to ask for clothes an hour or two ago.

You’re sure you look similar— you feel heat course throughout your body and you’re incredibly needy for him and his touch.

He reaches forward after admiring you for a good while. “Can I take this off?” Tugging at your shirt.

“Yes.”

You practically cry out, you didn’t want to seem too touch deprived— but damn was this getting you.

He pulls up your shirt and admires your beauty. He looks like he’s starving and you’re the only meal in the room. “God help me,” he mumbles.

You chuckle, but it’s cut off quickly as he reaches down to start toying with your breasts. “Mm, such pretty tits all for me. Right? Just f’me?” You gasped, you weren’t expecting dirty talk this soon, but it was working. You were soaking your panties, you’re so sure the patch can be seen through his boxers.

“Mm, yes baby,” you moan. You were always loud in bed with each experience you’ve had. Most of the guys didn’t like it, so you tried to keep quiet this time.

Luke did the unexpected, bringing his mouth down to suck along your breast, keeping attention on the other as well. You closed your eyes, lost in bliss as he slightly nibbled your nipple. You cried out, glaring down at him just to see him already glaring up at you.

He switched, doing the same exact thing to the opposite breasts. It was going to be a long night and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to it.

“How wet are you?” He murmurs as he glides down your body, peppering kisses until he meets the waistband of your—his—boxers.

You’re taken aback by the question, “what?”

“How wet did you get for me?” He repeated.

“Um, I want you,” you blushed.

He chuckled, “I know you do baby, but that wasn’t my question. I want you to tell me how wet you are. Can you feel it?”

“Yes, I can feel it Luke.” You want to break eye contact, but it feels impossible, the way he’s looking at you is addicting.

“Describe it to me. How does it feel?” He continues.

You moan, “I can feel it soaking my panties, Luke. It’s gushing out of me and I’m sure you’ll be able to see it through your boxers. I need it, please, I need you so bad.”

His lips part a good amount. He looks even hungrier than before, and you can tell your words tested him. The blonde wasn’t expecting you to be so— descriptive.

“Fucking christ, well let’s see then?” He sits back on his knees as you arch up for him, wanting him to see that you want him to see.

You were right, you’re absolutely soaked through and the wet patch is even bigger than you both expected. Luke sighed heavily.

“Looks like you’re right peach. Fucking drenched. You’re incredible.” You gave him innocent eyes when you looked up at him.

Boldness hit you. You wanted to say something, but debated saying it because you didn’t know if he would be into it or not. Taking a chance, you reply,

“Are you going to clean up my mess, sir?”

What were once oceanic blue orbs turned to navy, all you could sense was lust. Luke wasted no time. Ripping off his boxers and your panties in one go.

He lay flat on his stomach before diving right into your core. You slammed the palm of your hand onto your mouth, moaning right into it.

Right away, he rips your hand off your mouth and puts it into his hair. You tug at his locks. The strokes if his tongue were going back and forth between your entrance and clit. You glanced down at him and it was the biggest mistake, his glare towards you was enough to make your head fall right back to where it was on the pillow as your eyes rolled back.

He sucks your sensitive nub into his mouth, and it’s impossible to not hear the slurping. You’ve never felt pleasure like this before, in fact, you think this is the first time someones ever gone down on you. You bite your lip to surprise your moans, but it barely works.

Luke switches up, his mouth going down to push into and lap up at your core, cleaning up all the arousal that’s pooling out of you. He brings his fingers into the mix, thumbing at your clit and rubbing circles so roughly.

He continues his assault on your pussy in the most euphoric way. He sits up, his fingers still pumping inside of you.

“Baby, thinking about all the things Im going to do to you when you’re mine.. G’nna fuck this tight little pussy so good, so hard..”

You groan, “Please baby. Tell me how, tell me.”

“Mmm. Fuck you messy n’ tired. Take you from behind, slowly, and feel you up, kissin down your back. Or I’ll have you so good that you cum so much it hurts, but you still ask for more.”

He puts his mouth back on you and you cum right then and there. It’s such bliss you don’t understand how someone could ever make you feel like this. Flashes of white flash behind your eyes and you can’t tell if it’s lightning filling the room or just your aftershocks of the orgasm.

Luke is still going, lapping up your cum that leaks out of you. You’re hand that’s raked in his hair starts tugging, telling him to stop. He pulls back, coming up immediately to kiss you.

“That was incredible, thank you. I’ve never felt that before,” you compliment. He gives you a lazy smile.

You notice his erection against your leg as you sit up. “Let me take care of you?”

“Mmm, we both need sleep love. In the morning? Wake me up with it.” He smirks. Your face heats up again.

The boy pulls his shirt back over you, turning off the lamp and tucks you both into your covers.

Before you fall into a deep and comfortable sleep as Luke is rubbing your back, you think of what has just happened and smile to yourself. This event will play back in your head forever, and you can’t help but hope everything that’s happened with Luke will continue to evolve.

You hear and feel his quiet breathes, and you realize you’re not sure if you can ever sleep without him during thunderstorms again.

[tototalks]

🎵 Pretty woman, walking down the street, pretty woman, the kind I’d like to meet, pretty woman. 🎵

Let’s go!! Time for 💎 Pet 💎

- ‘Ancel was a virgin the first twelve times he has sex. The thirteenth time, it lacked all plausibility’ - What a way to start a story and give insight into the world Ancel lives in.

- You would be SHOCKED how much us redheads get the “does the carpet match the drapes” question from total strangers. Ancel is really living the authentic ginger experience. 😂

- In the times of ancient Greeks and Romans, redheaded slaves were more expensive because they were rarer. In that way, Ancel was designed perfectly to align with his character. Love that choice by Pacat! ♥️

- Ancel has a goal and I respect it, and he’s never once tried to hide it. It’s pretty clear that his love of expensive things comes from having very little at the start of life.

- It’s interesting to gain the perspective of a character detached from the thought of sex being emotionally significant. A first night was everything to Erasmus, and sex is hugely tied in with intimacy and emotional connection for Laurent. Jord and Aimeric fell in love while having sex. Whereas sex, to Ancel, is a means to an end. It’s literally his job.

- Love the implication that pets have their own hierarchy and contracts are fiercely competitive. They have their own little community.

- Ancel uses everything he has to his advantage to incredible effect. He’s pretty, witty, and talented. Whenever he walks into a room it’s like that scene from ‘How to Lose Friends and Alienate People’ where Megan Fox walks through the middle of the pool. Lol

- Now this may be the deeply ingrained European stereotypes I grew up with, but in the same way Laurent is French and Damen is Greek, Berenger is 100% German.

- You always get the sense that even though Ancel is bold and daring, he’s still tiptoeing and walking on eggshells. He completely reinvents himself for every new master he has.

- Haha Isagoras! - very on the nose and I love it

- It makes perfect sense that Ancel can’t read and cares little for long epics and poems. I’d be willing to bet though, that he has an amazing memory because of this. Uneducated does not equal unintelligent.

- Love that Ancel’s there all wide eyed like “yes! Please teach me to ride!” while internally he’s like “ew ew ew”. Don’t blame him. Horses are terrifying.

- I like that Berenger does find out Ancel is faking his interests and tells him that he doesn’t have to pretend. From there, Ancel is clearly more himself and more comfortable.

- In addition, although he’s a creature of habit, Berenger is actually really sweet 🥺🥺

- “Luxury suits you” “hell yeah it does.”

- I am so fascinated by Ancel and Erasmus existing in the same social sphere, and Ancel wondering why Erasmus doesn’t use the fact he’s beautiful for power, and dammit I’m going to have to write that fic, aren’t I? 😭

- Ancel and Berenger are mismatched but that’s what works so well about them with Berenger negotiating and Ancel naturally drawing attention to himself. They make up for one another’s differences.

- Ancel giving Berenger fashion advice, and Berenger ignoring it every time in favour of ✨another brown jacket✨

- I’m also liking the implication that Ancel enjoys being a pet and gaining attention for power because he knows what it’s like to be powerless. I personally like to think that he saw Nicaise’s situation and somewhat understood to a certain degree. I can imagine he would’ve been quite young when he started too.

- Fun fact! Ancel’s fire performance is actually reminiscent of a real dance! It’s a Polynesian art called Siva Afi and was traditionally a war dance, except instead of burning cloth on the ends of the baton, there are burning knives. Very cool! 🔥

- Ancel 🤝 Kris Jenner - all publicity is good publicity and I will make billionaires out of a scandal and watch people be jealous.

- The kiss being the first implication that Berenger actually does desire Ancel. Ooh boy, you ain’t hiding that much longer.

- The kiss is also the catalyst for Berenger ending the contract, and I can imagine that Ancel is so confused as to what he did wrong, not realising the circumstances behind the decision. 😞

- It’s absolutely wild looking back on the garden scene from a different perspective and realising that absolutely no one wanted that mess to happen.

- “You’re old.” - once again, ouch.

- Ancel being annoyed at seeing the lords go and ‘coddle’ Erasmus serves to highlight the wildly different appeals Ancel and Erasmus have as pets. Bold and daring vs. Sweet and modest. They would be unstoppable as friends. Shit, I’m really going to have to write that fic now, or read one that hopefully some talented person out there has written already 🙏

- Love that Ancel doesn’t rat Berenger out to the Regent - the Regent doesn’t even want him, and I’m sure Ancel is faintly remembering Nicaise mentioning that he’s “too old” 🤢

- And then the big reveal that Berenger was trying to protect Ancel as he supported Laurent’s bid for the throne; and Ancel realising that Berenger does, in fact, like him. Callback to “isn’t everyone looking for someone to be loyal to?” Sensational.

- I also, for my personal brain rot reasons, need Laurent and Ancel to strike up a bargain by which Ancel listens to all the pet gossip and rats out to Laurent which of the masters are disobeying the new laws of underaged pets or are undermining the new monarchy and union. All in return for a little coin of course 😉

- Ancel and Berenger: what a great little mismatched but perfectly matched pair! Really enjoyed this rendition of pretty woman! 😂

[personasintro]

Hello dear author,

I've been a long time follower of your writing, and will start by saying I've read your entire masterlist, including the minis, and thoroughly enjoyed them! Thank you for the stories. 💚

Like with most readers, there have been some stories that I often go back to, to re-read wholly, or sometimes, particular chapters.

One such is Away From You. Afy has been an all time favourite Yoon fic of mine. I also remember reading a post from you a long time ago, saying there is only one last chapter left for the story now. Maybe I'm imagining this, and for that I am sorry in advance.

I know all of us love MH and everyone hounds you to prioritise that all the time. I still wanted to ask, is there a teeny tiny possibility that you may work on AFY again? No pressure, just wanted to know what to expect. I'm also more than happy to keep re-reading what you've already gifted us!

Lots of love.

hello dear reader ♡

i'm sorry i only now got the time to respond to your message! first of all, thank you so much for all the love and sweet words!

the next afy chapter is in the works! i do have a lot of wips but you probably know by now my situation with time etc.. so that's why it's taking so long. but i'm thinking of afy and giving it a proper ending! don't worry ♡

[sinning5sos]

Hi! For the blurb idea… can you do like Ashton and Y/N are fighting because another woman hit on him while they were clubbing and she is so mad bc he doesn’t see it like a huge problem but then he goes: “you wanna know who I belong to?” and then they make out and maybe have a steamy make up sex…

Sorry it’s no longer a blurb but I havent read anything like since forever and I’m craving it so bad 😂

Btw you are amazing and I really love your works! 🩷

Possessive | Ashton

The music was loud, the sound causing vibrations throughout your body as you danced along to the music. Ashton had his arms wrapped around you tightly, his nose was nudged against yours as the two of you stood in the center of the club.

“Baby, I’m going to go grab a drink,” Ashton murmured in your ear, and pressed a kiss against the base of your neck and you smiled, “I’ll grab you another too, yeah?”

You nodded to him, and watched as he maneuvered his way through the crowd and to the bar. You closed your eyes as you swayed along, the music finally good enough to dance to. The last few times that you and Ashton have gone out, the music wasn’t this good but tonight was making up for it. You danced through the rest of the song, then the next and wondered where Ashton was. Even when it was crowded, the bar moved quickly so you craned your neck through the crowd to find him. When you couldn’t see him right away, you moved from your spot on the dance floor and pushed through the crowd. You stopped in your tracks as you saw Ashton, not at the bar but chatting with another woman on the side and stared at them.

You didn’t care that Ash was talking to someone, you weren’t that type of girl, but the bitch had her hand on his bicep and you were the only one who was allowed to do that. She threw her head back and laughed, and you narrowed your eyes at the two of them. 

You breathed out and walked over to the two of them, taking your drink from Ashton and sipped it as you made eye contact with the girl. She immediately removed her hand from his body, faked a smile to you then waved goodbye to Ashton.

“Who was that?” You asked, and Ashton turned to face you fully.

“Just a fan, a girl who lives in the city and has seen us around a few times.”

“Why was she touching you?”

“Babe are you really going to act like this?”

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but you nodded in an exaggerated fashion as you raised your arms.

“Sorry, I know what it looks like when people are flirting, and she was flirting with you Ashton. Did you even try to do anything to stop it?”

“Stop what? She fucking said hi.” He snapped, and you rolled your eyes.

“You know what, I’ll go ahead and show this whole fucking club who I belong to, right now.” He murmured, and closed the gap between the two of you. He pressed his lips roughly against yours, nearly knocking your drink out of your hands as he wrapped his arms around you. You giggled into the kiss, all of your anger melting away as he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, and he chuckled as he kissed you once again.

“I’m about to show you how sorry you are and take you back to that apartment, and completely destroy you.”

[callsignspark]

anything for you | part two

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x Rebecca Hermann (fem!OC)

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, implied violence against women/children, discussions of murder (nothing explicit/gory), inaccuracies about hotel ownership, implied child neglect, descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks, discussion of insecurities, eventual smut, warnings to be added as needed 

word count: 5.5k

series masterlist | main masterlist

note: here's part two, thank you to everyone who read the first part and left such kind comments - you're all so lovely!

Thursday, June 22, 2023 | San Diego, CA | 1332 PST

“When you asked if I was free for lunch, I thought this was going to be a fun, sexy thing.”

“And you thought garlic-and-onion-filled gyros were the appropriate pairing for a sexy lunch?” She snorts, rolling her eyes when he keeps talking, ignoring her teasing.

“I wouldn’t have said yes and ordered your favorite-” Jake pauses to shove a huge bite into his mouth “-if I knew you were just going to torture me with this stuff.”

“That’s disgusting, don’t talk with your mouth full.” Rebecca looks at him with disdain when he opens his mouth to show off his half-chewed food. “How you were voted California’s most eligible bachelor eight years in a row is a complete mystery to me.”

“I never had lunch with the selection committee.”

She smiles at his joke, then straightens up, getting down to the matter at hand. “So, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I don’t care what color our napkins are.” He groans, flopping back into the loveseat where they’re sharing lunch.

“Well, neither do I!” She huffs, flapping the fabric samples toward his face. “Pick one: pearl white or ivory cream.”

“Those look fucking identical.”

“They basically are.”

“So why does it matter?”

“Because Michelle needs an answer today on what we want for the reception, so please pick one.”

“I want whatever you want, darling.” Her blood heats up; the combination of the condescending pet name and how attractive he manages to be while lounging on the uncomfortable corporate-chic cushions is practically lethal.

She practically whines his name, tired of the back and forth on a conversation they’d already had three times. “Stop being a patronizing dickhead and just pick one of the nearly identical napkin options.”

“The right one.”

“Perfect, a fantastic choice.” She tosses the samples on the table and pulls out her phone to text the decision to their wedding planner. “You know, it would be nice if you would help make some of the real decisions for this wedding, too.”

“But you’re doing such a great job! And besides, I’m giving valu-”

“If you say, “valuable input on the honeymoon” one more time, I will sit on you and shove that salad down your throat, I swear to god, Jacob.”

“You say that like I wouldn’t enjoy it.”

“Keep it up, and I’ll shove more than just the salad.”

He sits up, a huge grin lighting up his face. “Wow! You are so feisty today, Mrs. Seresin!”

“I’m not Mrs. Seresin yet; you pompous, jacka-” Her joking tirade is cut off by his desk phone.

“Honey, as much as I love it when you’re mean to me, gonna need you to hold onto that thought. I told Ginger to hold all calls while you were here unless it was an emergency.” He hustles to his desk, brushing his fingers against her cheek as he passes. “This is Jake Ser- okay. Okay, hold on, sweetheart, she’s right here. Just a second.”

He waves her over as he holds the receiver away from his mouth, “It’s your sister, and she’s crying.”

“What?!” She trips getting up, her mind immediately going to the worst-case scenario. “Delilah? Are you okay? What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“Th-they-they aren’t-t-t…”

“Try to breathe, honey. Are you okay? Can you tell me if you’re hurt?”

“N-not hurt.” It’s a relief to hear, but Delilah’s breathing is too unstable to be comfortable.

“Alright, okay. It’s okay. I’m right here. Don’t want to trigger an asthma attack, so we’re gonna take deep breaths together, okay? Just like we used to when you were little.” The sisters breathe together, the older one making sure her inhales and exhales are loud enough for the younger one to hear over the phone.

It takes a few minutes, but Delilah’s breathing starts to level out. “Thanks, Becca.”

“Of course, kiddo. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“My academic awards ceremony is tonight, and I’m probably getting a big math award, but Dad just called me to tell me that they’re not gonna make it because it’s Mom’s birthday! They’re going to dinner and then to the bars with the guys from Dad’s crew! Can you believe it?” Her voice is weak but borderline shrill. “It’s my senior year – the last big thing besides graduation – and they’re not coming!”

The last three words send Rebecca’s mind into a spiral. All the times she had heard that exact phrase and then been the one to care for her sister flashing through her mind. At seventeen, being forced to be a primary caretaker to an infant Delilah during the limited free time she had in between school and work. At twenty-eight, and parenting her preteen sister because her biological parents decided to go on a month-long trip to the Caribbean. Every time they had deemed something else more important than their child. The countless volleyball and softball games missed, cash wasted on tickets for the school musical, parent-teacher conferences that were straight-up ignored half the time. When Rebecca was younger, she would mourn the gas money burned and the free time stolen as she acted as a personal assistant and valet to her sister, driving back and forth to practices, dentist appointments, dance classes, play rehearsals, haircuts, anything that Delilah needed. Looking back now, she was grateful they had gotten to spend that time together.

“We’ll be there.” She interrupts without thinking.

“You will?” Delilah’s voice is soft but pleased. The intention of her call was just to vent to her big sister, let out the frustration of being ignored again by her parents. “You don’t have to. I know you’re both busy.”

“Never too busy for you, babe. What time does it start? Do you want a ride?” She sinks into the desk chair, crossing her legs and leaning back, hoping the pressure building behind her eyes doesn’t turn into a full-blown migraine.

Rebecca can feel Jake hovering before he squats next to the chair. She ignores him in favor of letting the now happy voice of her sister wash over her. It’s a solid plan until a large hand lands on her thigh. His palm is warm where it lays against her skin, and his fingers gently rub the material of her skirt, letting her know he’s there. She turns her head to the right and peeks an eye open, watching him watch her.

“Is she hurt?” He mouths the question, looking relieved after she shakes her head.

She hesitates for a second before putting her hand on his, rubbing her thumb along the back of his hand in thanks. Jake takes the opportunity to hold her hand, playfully squeezing her fingers a few times, a ghost of a smile on his face. The sisters talk a bit more, confirming plans for the evening and saying “I love you” before hanging up. Rebecca drops the receiver into its cradle and leans back, looking at the ceiling. The office is quiet, the clock on the wall making the only noise in the otherwise silent room.

“Since we’re not preparing to storm Normandy, I take it everything is okay now?” She hums in confirmation, still staring at the ceiling. “What happened?”

“They’re not coming.”

There’s something about the way she says it – voice hollow, emotionless – that sets warning bells off in his head, but he still asks, “Who?”

“Fucking Seymour and Brittany.” She starts pacing. “It’s Brittany’s birthday, so they’ve decided that it’s not necessary to attend Delilah’s academic awards ceremony. Her senior year academic awards ceremony. Her last one. Where – because of her intelligence, hard work, and high academic ranking – it’s extremely likely that she’ll be receiving a boatload of awards. My father called her and told her they weren’t going to make it because they’re going out to dinner and then drinking with those idiots that hang around him! As if they couldn’t do that after the awards are over! It starts at six, and it’ll be like, at a maximum, an hour and a half!”

Jake stares in shock at the woman trying to wear a hole into his carpet. It wasn’t uncommon for her to curse or to be louder than usual when joking around, but the last time, the only time, he had seen Rebecca raise her voice in anger was that fateful night in February when she reamed him out after breaking into her house. Since then, her demeanor has matched the woman she had always been known to be. A kind and thoughtful person with a quieter disposition, one that hid a tough side she brought out only when needed, and a wit sharp enough to cut glass. Her voice is scathing, decades' worth of built-up frustration and resentment being released, and it freezes him in place.

“It’s just so unfair! I know they don’t like me, that I’m the “black sheep” of the family, or whatever the latest lame-ass attempt at an insult my father has taken to calling me. I don’t care about that. I worked my ass off junior and senior year to get a good scholarship, and I did. I practically put in full-time hours to save up enough to get out of that fucking house, and I did! The day after my eighteenth birthday, I packed up that crappy Camry – that I bought with my own money! – and moved into that sketchy apartment with five roommates. I worked hard to be the “outcast” of that family! I escaped, and they don’t like that, and that’s fine. I don’t need them to like me!”

Her voice was getting louder, the pacing and hand gestures more frenzied. She could feel her blood pressure rising, but she couldn’t stop. She hadn’t been this mad in years. She actually couldn’t remember the last time she was this angry.

“But it’s not fair that Delilah is treated like that! Like some show pony they can trot out when it pleases them. I know she’s the kid that was created on purpose, and I was the mistake no one wanted, but they just show her off like she’s some shiny object! Bragging about how smart she is and her amazing grades, her talent and how she gets cast in lead roles in the school plays and musicals, her athletic prowess, and how she definitely could have gone D1 if she wanted. But she doesn’t want to because she’s going to dedicate herself to helping others – something they know nothing about – but, of course, none of that actually matters to them! I can count on two hands the number of things they’ve actually showed up in the last eighteen years and still have fingers left over! And the worst part is she still believes they’re going to show up! That they’re suddenly going to give a damn about anything she does. That they’re going to treat her as more than a way for them to make themselves look better. And she doesn’t have anyone else because the only other family left is our grandfather, and it would take a fucking miracle for him to show up to an event where there’s even the slightest possibility that his son might be there. There’s no one else, so I said we’d g- oh my god.”

She stops on a dime, turning on her heel to Jake, who was shaken out of his stupor after the third curse word and now is staring in disbelief at his fiancé. “I said we’d go. You don’t have to go. I’m sorry I said you were coming without checking first-”

“I want to go.”

“-I just got caught up in the moment and didn’t think about it. You don’t have to-” His words register. “What?”

“I said it’s okay that you RSVP’d yes for me; I want to go.”

“You don’t have to. It’s not your sister.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, I’m aware of that. Otherwise, this engagement would be kinda awkward. And illegal.”

“What?” The joke goes over her head; she’s only half paying attention, her body still on a high from anger and the adrenaline rush that hit when she heard her sister crying.

“Because if she was my sister, then we’d be related, which is illegal or at the very least frowned upon…” He trails off, realizing he’s not getting through. “Wow, that really got to you, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m used to their bullshit; I usually don’t get so mad. But hearing her cry on the phone like that, she was practically hyperventilating when you answe- wait. How did Delilah even get through?”

“I put her on the allowed caller list.”

“You did?” She’s surprised.

She probably shouldn’t be anymore. Except for the rough start to their engagement in February, Jake had a perfect gentleman.

His generosity is unfamiliar to her, unexpected from a man of the Dagger organization. And she hadn’t been expecting the same care to be so easily extended to her sister. She assumed she would have to make more demands to ensure Delilah was taken care of properly. But he’s done everything she was planning to ask of him, and more, before she even had the chance to bring it up. A college fund set up with safeguards in place so only a select few have access, protecting the money from her greedy father. A brand-new car: one that’s cute and practical, with a top safety rating, in her sister’s preferred color. A week-long trip over Delilah’s spring break to the three schools she was considering so she could make what Jake called “the most educated decision possible.” He even almost bought a house that neighbored the campus of her final choice, a decision that Rebecca had to talk him down from. She’s still suspicious that he secretly bought it, despite a lengthy lecture on why that was a dumb idea.

Despite his kindness, it was hard for them to interact with each other at the start of their engagement. The first month was awkward, filled with distrusting glances and silted conversations as she settled into the guest room of his ocean-view property. Their proposal announcement was spent answering questions about the financial impact of Rebecca joining Eagle Hotels as the head of the newly reformed community and charity outreach division instead of their whirlwind romance. The press conference was supposed to be the way to launch the couple to the public, grabbing attention and headlines at the fact that California’s eternal bachelor was taking a wife who was going to use the profits of his multi-million company to pour money into cancer research and other worthy causes. Instead, the next day, the media was speculating about the financial future of Eagle and the validity of their relationship, not believing they were in love – or even liked each other – due to the lack of chemistry and the visible discomfort radiating from them both.

After reading that even reputable publications questioned the engagement, Rebecca realized they needed to become friends. Being comfortable with each other would allow them to sell the relationship to the public and investors while having the bonus side effect of convincing the older members of the Dagger organization that were still doubtful. Getting to know each other on a surface level and becoming friends would allow that to happen without having to get too close. Her plan had worked. They became comfortable with each other, the speculation stopped, and the gushing over their relationship started.

It also had the unintended effect of him becoming even more thoughtful, taking her into consideration and asking her opinion, even when it wasn’t necessary. He makes her laugh, a perfectly timed terrible pun lifting her spirits on tough days. He gives affection freely. Keep gestures subtle in public, a hand on her lower back or whispering in her ear just to follow it up with a kiss to her temple, all done to get perfect paparazzi shots of the couple. In private, around friends and family, his hands are bolder but never disrespectful. A strong arm around her waist, a gentle kiss on her neck, a warm hand on her thigh.

It's not what she’s used to from men, and it flusters her, even knowing it’s an act.

Then, the reminder that it’s an act puts her guard back up. Reverting to constantly reminding herself that this is a business agreement, a marriage of convenience.

Nothing more.

It’s hard, though. He makes her feel safe. Something a man hadn’t done in a decade.

Even when something happens that rips her back to reality and she’s reminded that this isn’t a real relationship, she feels safe. She knew what she was signing up for when she agreed to the marriage. What it would mean to be the wife of The Hangman. That he was a dangerous man who had done horrible things. There’s been several nights when he comes home late, knuckles intact to ensure plausible deniability of the Dagger leader, but with dark red flecks on an otherwise pristine white shirt that betray his innocence. It’s clear from the fact that Jake lets her see him on nights like that, nights when business had to be taken care of, that he trusts her. She trusts him, not fully, but enough to know that with him, she’s safe. She knows that as long as it’s not his blood that he comes home covered in. But another night, another ruined shirt, and the reminder runs through her head on eternal rotation.

This isn’t real. It’s to protect your sister, your family. This isn’t real. It’s to protect your sister, your family.

“Of course I did. She’s family. Oh honey, come here.” He pulls her close after catching sight of her lower lip wobbling and hugs her soft body into his harder one. Mentally admonishing himself after the moment he takes to appreciate her curves when she’s practically crying. “It’ll be okay. She’s going to school; it’s paid for, and she can stay with us during her breaks. Or we’ll get her a good internship, so she doesn’t have to come back at all. And after we get married, she doesn’t ever have to see them again if she doesn’t want to.”

“I know.” She rests her forehead against his collarbones, breathing to try and stop the tears threatening to escape. “I’m just worried.”

“About what?” One of his hands starts rubbing her back, the other drifting down to his favorite spot on her hip. “We can fix it, just gotta tell me.”

“Everything? I don’t know; I just feel so guilty. For the longest time, I was resentful that I had to take care of her so much, and of course, it was them I was mad at, but I’m afraid it seemed like I was upset with her. And then there were so many years where I was more distant than I wanted to be because dealing with them was just so awful. And I couldn’t get her out of there, and I’m worried that those two have hurt her in ways that I’ll never be able to understand or fix.” Her voice gets tighter as she speaks, cracking on the last word.

“Hey, breathe. It’s okay. I know you feel bad, but you did everything you could for her. You did what you had to do to protect yourself. And even though you were kinda distant, you still spent so much time with her. She loves you so much; she wants to be just like you. And let’s face it – with both parents alive, no documented history of abuse, and your father being who he is, no judge in the county would have dared to give you custody. You did the best you could do, and it was enough. She’s kind, smart, and funny, and I’m 110% certain that is all of you.” He wipes a tear that falls. “And I’m here now. Together we’ll keep her as safe as we possibly can. I will do everything in my power to protect you both. Okay?”

She sniffles, “Okay. Thank you, Jake.”

“Of course, anything for you, you know that. Now let’s see a smile!” Her weak attempt at a smile is met with his wide grin. “There’s my girl!”

His smile turns confused when she bites back a laugh. “What?”

“You have lettuce in your teeth.”

How the fuck did I get here?

Rebecca has had that exact thought countless times since February. If someone had told her five months earlier that she would be sitting in the back of her high school’s auditorium next to Jacob “The Hangman” Seresin, and not only would he be her fiancé, but he would be willingly and eagerly attending her sister’s academic awards ceremony, and that it was his idea to buy a bouquet of daisies and make a reservation at the nicest steakhouse in the city to celebrate afterward, she would have taken that person to the emergency room for fear of horrific brain damage.

After the call with her sister Jake had cleared the rest of his schedule, insisting they spend the rest of the afternoon together. He spent the next few hours driving them around town, completing a to-do list that existed in his head. The first stop was a jewelry store to pick up two necklaces. One he immediately put around Rebecca’s neck. A beautiful white gold pendant with a teardrop-shaped peridot gemstone that rested perfectly on her decolletage. August’s birthstone for her and her sister’s birthday. The second box had an identical necklace, a graduation gift for Delilah, he explained. She didn’t have a chance to protest the much too expensive gifts before he was dragging her down the street to a bookstore where they argued over the best author of the twentieth century for almost an hour. Leaving with multiple books by Ian Fleming and Sue Grafton for comparison purposes and a promise to the owner to return. They popped into Rebecca’s favorite bakery for a snack and left with a baker’s dozen of treats and two iced teas. Splitting a chocolate donut, they dropped the rest of the pastries at the Machado household for Javy and Julianna to enjoy on their anniversary weekend. The last stop was a florist on Main Street to grab a bouquet before they picked Delilah up and headed to the school.

It had been a perfect afternoon.

The more she thinks about how smoothly everything went, how natural it felt, the more stressed she becomes. It shouldn’t have been easy. It shouldn’t have happened at all! He had more important things to do than spend the afternoon together. Why would he do that? She’s attempting to distract herself from the overwhelming feelings threatening to send her into a panic attack by flipping through the awards ceremony program when she sees it.

Her brain disconnects from her body; she can feel it happen. She knows the room is loud; it had been loud when they sat down, but now everything is muffled, and the only thing she can hear is blood rushing in her ears. Her body suddenly feels like concrete, heavy in a way it isn’t usually; an invisible pressure pushing especially hard on her sternum, making her breathing staccato and shallow. The folded booklet in her hands is now blurry, her eyes so unfocused she’s seeing multiple of the program swirling in front of her. Her hands start to shake in a way they haven’t done in a long time.

It’s the goddamn program. A voice in her head tells her. How are you supposed to deal with this? Seeing her name out of nowhere!

Another voice interrupts. No! It’s his fault. He’s being too nice; it wasn’t supposed to be like this! He wasn’t supposed to be like this.

She distantly thinks both of the voices are probably right. Because for the second time today, she can feel Jake’s concern from where he’s seated next to her – the auditorium is old, and the seats are packed together, reminiscent of a time with laxer safety regulations – and Rebecca knows that his eyebrows are scrunched together. They do that when he’s confused or worried; she noticed a few weeks after she moved into his place. She can feel his hand land on hers, and his breath is warm against her cheek where he’s leaned in close to check on her. He’s probably asking if she’s okay, asking what’s wrong, asking if she needs anything, shockingly sweet for a man suspected to be the cause of twenty-two deaths, but she can’t focus on him because right there, printed in black and white, is her mother’s name.

Monroe Mathematics Scholarship - $5,000 Given to the graduating senior who completed all the advanced mathematics courses with the highest overall four-year average and is pursuing higher education in medicine, engineering, or education. Established in 2009, this scholarship was created in loving memory of Laura Monroe and is generously donated by an anonymous alumnus. 2023 Winner: Delilah Hermann

“-ecca? Honey?” Her ears come back into play as a hand turns her face to the left. Dazed brown eyes meet worried green ones. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Liar.

The green eyes narrow. “You’re lying. What’s wrong?”

“I- just… flipping through the program and seeing her name sprinkled throughout it right next to the words “graduating senior” got to me. She’s not a baby anymore. She’s going away to school, at a school that’s far away from me. And I’m going to miss her.”

Not a lie. Not the truth either.

“Oh, honey.” He wraps an arm around her shoulder, right hand absentmindedly playing with her hair. “I know, it sucks. It was hard to send all three of my sisters off to school, especially Kayla, and we’re not nearly as close as you two are. I don’t have any words to make it better, but I get it if that helps?”

“Yeah, it helps a little bit.”

“Good. Now!” He pulls her in close, pressing their cheeks together as he dramatically gestures toward the front of the auditorium. “Who exactly is that punk sitting next to my sister-in-law?”

“You don’t recognize him? That’s Travis.”

“Travis Kazansky?” She nods as she settles back into her own seat and firmly closes the program, she still felt dazed, but the weight of his arm was grounding. “Actually, where are the Kazanskys?”

“Sarah mentioned that Tom’s treatment was harder than usual the other day. I think they were planning to stay home so he can rest. Poor Travis. His senior year has been pretty rough.”

“God, he got big. What happened? Why are they sitting together?”

“Well, he went through puberty; that tends to happen to children, especially those that are 18 years old.”

He lets out a sarcastic chuckle, “You’re so funny I almost forgot how to laugh. Why are they sitting together?”

“Probably because they’re friends, Jake.”

“Friends?! How did those two become friends?”

“Delilah was his trig tutor, and they became friends… how ever kids become friends these days. TikTok or whatever. I don’t know anymore.”

“I thought she was taking calculus?”

“She did take calc, but she was a tutor for lower-level math classes this year.” A small smile forms on her face, watching the two teenagers shyly flirt with each other, surrounded by their friends.

“Jesus, you two are smart. I don’t know where you got- Look!” Jake interrupts his own muttering to aggressively point down front again. “Look at that! He put his arm around her!”

“I see that. It’s very sweet.”

He looks incredulous. “Sweet?! That’s not sweet! He’s taking advantage of her!”

“You’re being ridiculous! He puts his arm around her, that is not taking advantage of her. He is a perfectly nice boy!”

“No, he is not “a nice boy” – he’s a teenage boy! He's the starting quarterback and captain of the lacrosse team!”

“Hmm, wow, sounds familiar.”

“Exactly! I know what he’s like because that’s who I was!”

She rolls her eyes at the overprotective brother routine. “And you turned out fairly decent. I think we’ll be okay.”

“No! He’s not good enough for-”

“Jake. What he’s doing is totally harmless. He’s a good kid, and we know his parents very well. I’m not worried about it. And I’m actually glad a cute boy is flirting with Delilah. I didn’t get that, so I’m happy she’s getting to experience it.”

He freezes, looking sideways at her, noting her wistful expression as she watches the younger blonde boy play with her sister’s perfectly curled hair. “No one flirted with you in high school?”

“No, which isn’t surprising. I was a dork and so painfully shy. Besides, no one wanted to be known for being the guy that flirted with the too-smart-for-her-own-good, fat girl.” She shifts in her chair, dislodging his arm from her shoulders, uncomfortable with the vulnerability she had accidentally shown. His response is interrupted by Principal Scott attempting to start the evening, the entire audience cringing at the feedback that reverberates through the hall.

“Well, it’s nice to know some things around here never changed.”

Jake is worried about the woman in his passenger seat; she hasn’t once made fun of his music choice or criticized his bad blinker habits. She’s been staring out the window since they left the restaurant, just watching the bright lights of downtown. “You didn’t cry as much as I thought you would.”

His bad joke works, as it so frequently does with her. “Oh, like you’re so tough! I heard you sniffle when Delilah got the math scholarship.”

“How could I not be proud of her? She won seven awards, and that was the biggest one I saw listed in the program, and she won it!” His eyes go big as he defends himself.

She leans back into her seat, crossing her arms across her chest. “It is a big award, must be a pretty successful alumnus who donated it. Wonder who it is…”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool of them, whoever they are.”

She goes to question him – fairly certain the anonymous alumni donor is him – when he makes an unexpected turn. “What are you doing?”

“Ice cream.”

Her eyes narrow, “I thought you didn’t want dessert?”

“Maybe I just wanted to have some alone time and get a lil something sweet with my something sweet.”

“You said no at the restaurant, that you were “too full” for dessert.” She points out.

“Well, I’ve since changed my mind.” He sniffs. “A man is allowed to do that.”

“Mmmhm. You’ve done that a few times tonight.”

He plays dumb. “What do you mean?”

“When Delilah mentioned that we were going to Morton’s for a celebration dinner in front of Travis, I thought you would blow a gasket. But instead, you invited him to join us; I didn’t even have to nudge you. And you didn’t complain once when you called the restaurant to adjust our reservation.”

“Anything for you, my dear.”

She starts chuckling at him. “Stop it! You are so full of shit. There was nothing! No complaining, no protesting the, the- oh, what did you call him when he put his hand on her back? Oh! No protesting the “devil child” joining our dinner? And by the way, I can’t believe you suggested that Travis drive Delilah home and then stuffed fifty bucks in his hand so they could stop and get ice cream!”

“He’s not a bad kid.”

“Oh, and what pray tell has caused this sudden change of heart, Mr. Seresin?”

“He was very polite and respectful.”

“And?” She pokes his arm, poking him harder when he mumbles something. “I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“…and he called me sir without any prompting.” He backs into a spot, completely avoiding eye contact once in park.

“Oh my god.” Her chuckles turn into full-blown laughter. “You are so ridiculous.”

“You’re so mean to me.” He looks genuinely sad, pouting in the driver’s seat.

She unbuckles and leans across the console, getting in his personal space with a smile bigger than he had ever seen from her. “I thought you liked it when I’m mean to you?”

Her voice is low, sexy, even as she’s mocking him with his own words from earlier in the day. Suddenly his whole body feels hot, and he laughs to deflect, praying to any available deities that his neck isn’t turning red. “You know what?”

“What?”

“Just for that, you can pay for ice cream.” He climbs out of the car, smile growing as he listens to her protests about how she wasn’t even the one that wanted ice cream, so he should be the one to pay. She’s still making her case when they meet at the bumper, but he doesn’t respond, distracted by how she hooked her hand through his elbow without thinking. He stares at the ring adorning her fourth finger, and his heart thumps.

This is what the rest of our lives are going to be like.

She gently pinches the inside of his bicep as she presses into his side to give more room to a young family juggling a stroller and three young kids on a sugar high, wiggling her fingers at the baby propped on his mom’s hip. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Always, my dear.”

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[prettypinkporkchop]

The wolf packs music

Mother Mother

$uicideboy$

Ghost

Ice Nine Kills

Any 90s rock or grunge band

Panic! At the disco

The Front Bottoms

21 pilots

AFI

A day to remember

Crystal Castles

Lil peep

Geto Boys

Tyler the Creator

Frank Ocean

Coldplay

Hoobastank

Hinder

The Fray

Mazzy Star

Yuno Miles

Red hot chili peppers

Nirvana

Hobo Johnson

WILLOW

Kittie

Demi lovato

New Years Day

Meg and Dia

Grimes

Bruno Mars

Jay-z

Avicii

Akon

Imagine Dragons