#are you fucking seeing it its even more convincing when you put pictures of the emo heartthrob era and current day next to each other

[around-your-throat]

you can definitely fool some people who only knew about pete wentz in the 2000s into thinking he's a trans woman now

[lo1k-diamonds]

Be as it must 💜 Part 2

“So you were behind these attacks? I didn’t know I worked for a criminal.”

PAIRING: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega(f)reader

SUMMARY: You wake up and find out who snatched you and why.

WORD COUNT: 2.7 k

GENRE: ABO, strangers to lovers, fated lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: anxiety, tension

A.N. A huge thank you to @moonleeai for the beta read💜 The plot thickens...

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | < Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >

The way your head hurt when you woke up was like the worst hangover you had ever felt. You groaned, shaking your head slightly, only to fight the nausea and sensitivity caused by the surrounding lights. There were voices around you talking quietly.

A female hushed voice, “Are you sure…?” 

And a male one full of certainty, “Absolutely, confirmed by everyone. Remarkable.”

He seemed almost fascinated, but you couldn’t focus on anything with the dizziness and discomfort overwhelming your senses.

“Fine, he’s coming anyway,” she sighed.

“You should give her some water,” the man suggested before you heard footsteps and a door opening.

More people coming in and out meant only more noise and hushed voices, which worsened your state. But then, suddenly, you remembered everything. You weren’t at a rowdy party the night before, you were scared shitless of being taken away and found out by the Families. And all the care in the world still didn’t prevent you from being grabbed outside your apartment building and injected with something and—

Your eyes snapped open, the anxiety spreading through your veins, enforcing a soberness that bypassed the nausea and migraine. Only, instead of making sense of things, you become even more overwhelmed and confused.

You were in a meeting room high in a big city, judging by the buildings and skyscrapers showing through the windows, illuminated by a sun making its descent into the sky. The passage of time was confusing, but the fact that you were sitting on a chair tied up definitely unnerved you. Yet before the violation and despair released your voice, you saw the people in the room.

Your eyes widened as you stared back at CEO Jeon Jungkook, who had a quizzical expression as he returned your gaze. Next to him, a tall, elegantly dressed woman was the picture perfect of a secretary, with black hair perfectly straightened by her shoulders contrasting with a light pink blouse.

You frowned, “What the hell?” 

The zip ties around your wrists offered resistance, and you were even more confused. Nothing made sense. You looked around again; you recognized the decor, you were definitely at the Seoul office. Your boss was right there. You were coming here anyway, but how would the kidnappers know? 

You frowned, shaking the haziness off so you could think, “Do you always kidnap your employees when they refuse your invitations?”

The CEO raised an eyebrow and moved closer, followed closely by the woman, despite her skeptical glances at you.

“I was coming here anyway, you know?”

“I do, actually. Yoon Minsik asked about you, since you never logged in to work or showed up at the office here, as you indicated.” 

He turned to the woman, who nodded and shrugged. She was looking at you with her lips pulled in a line, and it risked making your blood boil. What the fuck was she so disgusted by? You were the one tied up to a fucking chair!

“I see, so that's what happened,” he chuckled before coming close to you, and you frowned, blinking the confusion away.

“You do? Then please enlighten me, because I see no good reason for this,” you opened your hands to bring his attention down to the fact that you were tied up.

“Do you know her?”

He turned to the woman, “She's the lawyer from Busan that I mentioned yesterday.”

Your cheeks gained color that wouldn't be hidden since you didn’t put makeup on that morning. The fact that he mentioned you should be the least of your concerns right now!

“So what is this? An attempt to convince me to move here? Because whoever strategized it is absolutely out of their mind!”

The woman frowned with a hint of aversion, as though she thought you had gone crazy, and the CEO just tilted his head while he looked at you.

“You would surely know this has nothing to do with that,” he said curiously, and the woman neared to whisper again, though this time you heard it.

“See, she has to be a fake—”

“A fake what?! Why the hell am I tied up?!”

“Because you're an omega,” he answered quietly, as though his words held an enchantment.

You stiffened and stopped struggling. Finally, it dawned on you what was happening — you were taken and presented to the alpha head of one of the Families. You weren't there to work, you were there because of your secret.

You swallowed, “Is this necessary?”

His lips trembled, but the woman spoke first, “This is stupid, I don't believe her for a second. I'll call Jiyeong Soohyun to deal with her.”

“Sunhwa, wait,” he called to stop her in her tracks, and you all but exploded.

“Yes, Sunhwa, wait,” you closed your fists, narrowing your eyes at the woman. “What is really stupid, not to say criminal, is this situation! So you better think before you make it worse, and I sue you for everything you're worth!”

The woman laughed but CEO Jeon Jungkook held her wrist to stop her from coming close to you, “Come on, just breathe. Can't you smell her?”

Sunhwa looked at you and you at her, and unlike her, you scoffed and looked away. You had trained yourself so hard to suppress everything linked to your designation, that you had neglected smelling the room. You couldn’t stop that woman from picking up your scent, but you could use your senses to gain information only you could have, so you glanced at the couple again and breathed in slowly.

Piece by piece, it was as though the world moved. It didn't just start spinning when the notes of lilies and amber graced your nose, it recalibrated its axis. Your senses were overwhelmed suddenly, leading your body to react profusely to his presence. You had the fine-tune you were looking for the day before, making your heart race, your mouth water, and your core thrum. Your reaction was so visceral, you instantly tried crossing your legs to stop it, only to raise your eyes to the CEO’s and realize it was too late. He wasn't subtle, licking his lower lip slowly with his eyes fixed on yours, and you melted between your legs with the heat rising up your chest.

“She smells human to me,” Sunhwa shrugged, unaware of the spell you were under, which she just broke.

You clenched your jaw, annoyed more than anything by her mere presence, and finally assessed her. 

Your nose twisted in reflex before you could take her as a whole. She was pretty and certainly dressed well. You recognized the underlying scent of beta blood, so that justified her stake in the conversation, but her smell. Too sweet and delicate, just like roses. You instantly couldn't stand it.

Jungkook leaned closer to you and took a sniff, unaware his eyes sparkled the closer he got to you. He didn't need to go any closer to be certain; your notes of jasmine and ylang-ylang had tingled his nose and awoken his senses already from the hallway. The surprise that remained was that it was you, and so he was not only fascinated, but delighted. He knew from the day before that you were the type of person he'd feel inevitably drawn to, but now, it was visceral. You were so close, and he was so tempted to—

“So if you agree, I'll call Jiyeong Soohyun to deal with her like we did with the others.”

The CEO looked at Sunhwa as if she had just popped up inside the room, but you couldn't take pleasure in it. You struggled against your restraints, rebelling against everything. He was an alpha, and everything you felt was just his effect messing with you! He had you tied up to a freaking chair! And you were not about to admit anything out loud; who cared what they believed? You just wanted to leave!

“Untie me!”

He was so close to you that your request in that distressed tone instantly pushed him to action. His hands shook as he stopped himself from doing as you asked, and he broke down laughing. 

You paled, livid, and Sunhwa eyed him as if he had lost his mind, but he kept laughing with tears in his eyes. He was just so mind blown. To think you could influence him with a half thought blurted out, it was insane. He had never experienced anything like it, or maybe his memory was just bad. And yet, there was nothing more real than the weight of his desire, almost crushing him to his knees before you. So he could look up at you, touch you, drag his nose over the soft pulse of your wrist while your voice soothed his soul.

He could only laugh at any suggestions that you weren’t an omega. The only question was how to proceed forward. 

He cleared his throat and kneeled before you to cut your zip ties off, uncertain if his eyes didn't reveal the pleasure tingling up his arms at the gesture. One look at you before you stood from your chair abruptly told him you weren't in the condition to notice it. You were distressed, and rightly so.

He heaved a deep breath, ready to handle it, when you said, “So you were behind these attacks? I didn’t know I worked for a criminal.”

The way you rubbed your wrists and looked at him with suspicion threw him off, but it was Sunhwa who reacted first.

She scoffed, “What attacks?” Her voice pitched as if she was being personally attacked, “Those people were verified, nothing more!” 

Your expression blanked as you faced her with all the skepticism and blatant distrust you could muster. What the hell did that even mean?

Sunhwa stepped toward Jungkook with a pleading expression, “She acts like a human, behaves like one too. This is ridiculous, there are no more omegas. It has to be a mistake!”

You rolled your eyes but didn't dignify that with an answer. Your moral code prevented you from lying, and you weren't certain on whether the truth in this case would work in your favor or not. Would you be allowed to leave? Would they harm you if they thought you were human, even though you were an employee? You weren't certain if Sunhwa couldn't or wouldn't recognize your blood, so it was hard to decide a course of action.

Fortunately, the CEO made it easier, “There's no mistake.”

The way he looked at you was enough; the way he spoke, lowly under his breath, halted your thoughts for a moment. There was a tension pulling you to—

“But—” Sunhwa looked at you in disbelief. “Just— Just get rid of her, and it will all be—”

“No one is getting rid of anyone,” he glared at her, finally out of patience. Didn't he just say you were legit? How could she be so dumb? Why would he ever let you go?

You crossed your arms casually though your voice was venomous, “Getting rid? Thought you weren’t criminals, but you have a human trafficking ring or something?”

You were about to go on a tangent about the law, and how being an omega gave them no right to kidnap you, when the CEO turned to you with a hard gaze. The world shifted out of focus while your whole attention trained on him.

“I’d stay quiet if I were you.”

Your stance instantly hardened. You actually thought you could have a civilized conversation with that m— with that alpha?

Shame on you. 

He had turned to talk to Sunhwa and you simply circled them in the direction of the door. 

He reacted on instinct, grabbing your arm, “Where are you going?”

“Away,” you stated, pulling your arm, and since he didn't let go, it brought him closer. “I'm not one to stay quiet, so unless you plan on speaking candidly with me about this mess or sending for Jiyeong Soohyun to handle me how you did countless others, I conclude that I'll be walking out of here now.”

Jungkook was licking his lips before he could help it. The tension rising up his arm from where you two touched was unparalleled, leading him to wonder how you could even formulate such thoughts and sentences under its influence. But more importantly, you misunderstood him; he didn't want you gone. He wanted to get rid of Sunhwa before he could talk to you. Ideally, to change everything so he was a free man to—

“Let me go.”

His grip loosened instantly, and he cursed mutely; he just couldn't think near you. Not if it wasn't about you.

But you were about to leave and that couldn't happen.

“I'll speak with you. Sunhwa, thank you for your help. I can attest to her omega designation, so there's nothing further. You're dismissed for the day.”

Sunhwa’s eyes widened impossibly in disbelief, but she still bowed and left. Her glare was hot on you before she closed the door, but you were already over it. The CEO held the actual power, and you wanted your freedom.

“Please, sit.”

He motioned to the other side of the room, a corner with two couches, and you raised an eyebrow, “Are there more zip ties in the picture?”

“No, I promise.”

He did sound guilty, so you nodded and sat on the couch. He sat on the other, giving you enough space.

“But you do engage in this kind of barbaric methods,” you insisted. “Hunting and kidnapping people.”

He licked his lips to hide a smile, “You never denied you were an omega.”

“I don't see the point in denying the obvious. I do, however, in understanding why someone of your character would resort to such methods.”

“My character?”

He smiled widely, amused, and it obliterated your defenses. Your heart started racing, willing to overlook your irritation and frustration, but you cleared your throat, “Maybe I should have said standing. Your character so far leaves much to be desired.”

“I'm sad to hear that,” he said, and the way his eyes lowered to the white carpet made you believe him. “Regarding the methods, I didn't approve of them personally. They're traditional, as you well know.”

Your eyebrows jumped and he observed you curiously. 

“Busan is Jeon territory, so searches are standard. Of course, the Family is searching for my sake, but it's an old practice. Outdated; I shall see to abolish it.”

You pursed your lips, “Now that you found what you were looking for?”

He couldn't help a laugh, “Certainly.”

You didn't have the right to deny it, but you swallowed dryly, “What do you plan on doing?”

“Well, first, I'd like to make myself available for any question you might have, about this or otherwise.”

When had the intensity of his eyes shifted like this? Your skin instantly tingled, attuned to him, like he had a direct line of contact to your senses.

“Then, I thought to make it up to you by welcoming you in my guest suite.”

You blinked, “Why?”

“For your comfort, of course. I haven't forgotten you were here to give the Seoul office a chance—”

“I came here to facilitate the American consortium negotiations,” you corrected a bit defensively.

He smiled, “So I leave it up to you whether you need a few days or not before you can get on that.”

You were already shaking your head when you gasped, “Today's meetings!”

“Were rescheduled for tomorrow at my request. Couldn't risk anything being decided without my best legal representative present.”

You fought the wave of warmth spreading through your chest. “I'll stay the few days necessary to carry out the negotiations. Then, I'll return to Busan.”

Your shoulders squared as you spoke, aware of what you were doing. You had asserted he found what he was looking for and that you wanted to leave. Would he go back to kidnapping and coerce you now? Would he go against your will?

He tensed under your gaze, aware of what you were asking. His eyes hid for a moment, his palm rubbing on his leg in thought.

You could barely process the way his thighs strained his dress pants before he spoke, drawing in your eyes again.

“Alright, agreed.”

[sanjisblackasswife]

𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕒𝕤 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕊𝕦𝕘𝕒𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕪

New series alert because i made all the jjk men hcs too long for one post lmao

Bad Summary: HC’s of JJK Men as your SD.

Cw: Mentions of sex, Petnames, Age differences off the wazoo(i.e. reader is around 19-22 and he is over 40)

SFW

Sugar Daddy Gojo treats you like his best friend with benefits

Him. He’s giving you all the benefits.

He was simply too hard to ignore

Coming to your cafe everyday ordering the same thing followed by a

“And your number.”

You were strong enough to resist, yes he was a handsome man but you never were the type to just give out your number to anybody. He was just a simple and flirtatious older customer you seen.

Gojo didnt take it lightly though, he was persistent.

Eventually he’d whoo you with small gifts and large tips, even when you happily declined he managed to get you to take it

He finally got you when he seen you off work. A small chat with him (with of course shameless stares at your body and lips) he convinced you for one small coffee date.

Then that led to him getting your number, then more expensive dates, more expensive gifts, and more princess treatment

You both went on a trip together and you clearly underestimated how rich this man was; private jet, owning WHOLE hotels on islands.

It was overwhelming to say the least but Gojo didnt mind. He loved to see the sparkle in your eyes when he took you to a new place you never been before.

He was pretty much your man at that point, he never had interest for any other women, which was hard to believe, sure he was in his 40s but he didnt look a day over 30. Not even eye bags. He reassured you you were his and only his.

He always takes you out to try to convince you to leave your job. It was a bit concerning how fast he was moving in the relationship, after expressing your concerns he did slow down. At least insisting you work at a different establishment near his place.

One he owned and the pay was twice as much.

Its almost overwhelming how he puts you at such a high priority in his life. It almost felt like your life became straight out of a fantasy.

He treats you as if you were made for him, he’s so gentle, so authoritative which was such a turn on. Him being so big and tall, always doing what your past boyfriends refused to do both out in public and in the bedroom

NSFW

Sex with Sugar Daddy Gojo was exciting.

He was always amped to do try new things like toys or even role play

His favorite; teacher and student of course.

He always buys you some of the skimpest lingerie, you always have to take as many pictures as you can because if he catches you wearing it he will in fact rip it off

Sex with SD Gojo is something you can’t even compare to

Sex with SD Gojo made you realize You were far from a virgin but laying with him made you feel like one, either the men you slept with were THAT bad or he was THAT good

Sex with SD Gojo always knew how to touch you, he knew how many fingers of his inside you can make your mouth fall slack

Sex with SD Gojo was fun and light hearted, he’d giggle at how sensitive your body BECAME after sex with him, peppering your body in kisses telling you how much youve improved on taking him in entirely

Honestly, there was no other man to fuck you better than he does

[watchmegetobsessed]

NO MORE GAMES

A/N: so this concept might be familiar for some of you bc i posted about it earlier before i started working on it but now its officially here! and this is my thank you gift for all of you for reaching 15k followers!!! it's insane, thank you so much and hope to bring you even more stories soon!!!

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Your friend forces you to give Tinder a try. Surprisingly you fetch a date with the handsome and a little bit older Harry. But he stands you up and you lose hope in dating. However it's a real plot twist when you run into him at your dad's barbeque and he is introduced to you as the future CEO of your father's company.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“This has got to be the lowest point of desperation.”

“Don’t be so dramatic!”

“I’m not, this is truly the end.”

Dani rolls her eyes and just keeps tapping away on your phone’s screen, setting up your Tinder profile.

You. On Tinder. The app you swore you’d never use. How did this happen?

Well, it happened because your boyfriend of two years decided to dump you in a McDonald’s parking lot, only to post about his engagement to another woman on Facebook three weeks later. 

Disgusting pig, you’re convinced you were blind and deaf in those two years, that’s how you could put up with him for so long.

You’ve been wallowing in your self-pity for the past three months and Dani, your best friend had enough and said that you need to get on a dating app, hook up with some fine ass men and forget about Cruz.

“Alright, it’s all set, want to have a look?” Dani smirks, obviously pleased with herself as she hands you over the phone.

It’s a decent profile, she chose some good pictures of you, your profile was never your concern, it’s others on the app that makes you crawl out of your skin.

“Perfect,” you flash her a forced smile, she grabs the phone and then starts swiping vigorously. “Hey! Don’t swipe right on everyone!”

“Not everyone! Just the hot guys!”

“You’re not even reading their bio!”

“Because I don’t care, we’re looking for a hookup, not your husband here, duh!”

You sit, feeling helpless as you watch your best friend decide who is worthy of you in the virtual meat market. This is really not your scene and you’re more than skeptical anything good will turn out from it.

Dani keeps swiping for a while before you finally talk her out of it and you settle watching a movie instead, forgetting about the profile that is now available for every single man in your area. 

To be honest, it completely slips your mind until you’re getting ready for bed and unlock your phone to set an alarm and see all the notifications from Tinder.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, falling into bed as you unwillingly, but tap on one of the notifications and the app opens.

It’s been only a few hours, but you got twenty-seven matches and five out of those even messaged you. You instantly skip the first three because one straight up asks for nudes, one just sends you a bunch of emojis and the third one sent the worst pick up line you’ve ever heard. 

The fourth one is okay, but it’s kind of… well, it’s a simple “Hi, how are you?” and you’re not sure how to reply to that, so then only one’s left.

Harry.

The age next to his name reads 36, that’s not that big of an age gap, only eight years, you’ve seen worse. Besides, he looks younger, almost your age according to the pictures. He has a couple, but not too many. He’s smiling on his profile picture, the t-shirt displays his many tattoos on one of his arms, his hair is slightly curly and mostly a mess, but it’s the good kind.

He is definitely your type. 

He opened with referring to something that’s written in your bio which feels nice, knowing that he actually read it instead of just swiping right based on your pictures. Your thumbs hover over the screen for a bit before you finally give in and type him an answer.

He replies right away. And so the conversation starts.

One message follows the other, you’re jumping from one topic to the next and at one point it feels like you’re talking to an old friend and not a guy you’ve never actually met. The next thing you realize that it’s three am and you’re still talking. 

Y/N: We’ve been talking for hours and you still haven’t asked for my number, should I take it as a bad sign?

HARRY: Didn’t want to seem too pushy, but I wanted to ask for it the moment I saw your profile. 

You smile like a little girl as you type your answer.

Y/N: That would have been too soon, you’re right. But now would be a good time.

HARRY: Hey, crazy idea! Can I maybe have your number?

You laugh. You genuinely laugh at the screen and that probably never happened before.

You give him your number. 

You didn’t think it would go this far, this whole Tinder ordeal Dani forced you into. You were kind of set that it won’t work so why should you even try? 

Now it’s a surprising outcome that you’re on your way to meet Harry at a bar, only three days after texting nonstop. And you’re kinda nervous about it.

You haven’t been on a first date in a long time and it’s giving you the jitters as you get ready. Your experience getting to know Harry in the past few days has been incredibly positive, you wonder if it will be the same when you physically meet.

You arrive at the bar a little early and take a seat at the table he reserved on his name. To ease your nerves you order a vodka soda that you drink quickly, the alcohol mixing in your veins pretty fast, but you’re still nervous to meet him in real life. 

As you wait, a guy comes up to you who seems to be more interested in your cleavage than you while he tries to chat you up, but you quickly reject him, your gaze keeps returning to the entrance, expecting Harry to walk in at any moment.

Minutes pass by and then seven o’clock rolls around, the time when you were supposed to meet, but you see no sign of him, which makes your stomach twist and turn. You double check the time, the date and the place to make sure you’re where you need to be.

“You seem awfully lonely,” a voice speaks up behind you and for a split second you think that it’s Harry, you just missed when he walked in, but when you turn around you see a totally different man, holding two drinks in his hands, clearly offering one to you. You make no effort to accept it.

“I’m not,” is all you say, turning your eyes back ahead. He doesn’t get the hint.

“If you’re waiting for someone I’m happy to be your company until they arrive.” He rounds the table and stands in front of you, blocking your view of the entrance entirely. Exhaling irritatedly, you finally look up at him, your face making an obvious statement that you’re not open to the chit-chat.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“You definitely seem like you could use some cheering up, let me be the–”

“Oh my God, are you really this dumb? It’s a no, I don’t want to talk to you, now leave the table!”

“Jesus, what a bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he walks away. Normally, you’d definitely call him out, but right now, you’re just staring at the entrance, almost like a maniac as the minutes pass by and there’s still no sign of Harry.

You check your phone, praying there’s gonna be a text at least, saying that he is just late, that he will be here soon, but nothing. It’s dead silent. 

“Fuck,” you breathe out, your feet jumping underneath the table. It’s already twelve past seven. This is not just being fashionably late now.

You wait some more, hoping for a miracle, but it never comes. So does Harry.

When it’s been over thirty minutes you chug down the rest of your cocktail you ordered to make you seem less like a loser and call it a night. On your way out of the bar you pull up your messages with Harry and send him one last text.

Y/N: Thanks for nothing.

And then you block his number, throwing the experience to the very back of your head while you delete Tinder off your phone.

The annual barbeque is here. Once a year your dad’s home turns into one big fair, he invites most of his employees, investors and partners, throwing a feast in his backyard. It means about five hundred people invade your previous home, where you still spend a lot of your time even though you have your own apartment now. 

You always come as well, because one, your dad loves to show you off and introduce to everyone and two, you usually use this occasion to network a bit. You’ve just opened your own gallery and what’s a better place to promote your art than a backyard full of wealthy investors? Selling your art can seem like an impossible task sometimes, or to be more precise, most of the time. Until your work is not known you make no profit, you need that first purchase that will bring in the rest and get the business rolling. Unfortunately you have not had that one first customer.

Yet.

It’s a sunny Saturday, as if your dad ordered the weather especially for the occasion. There has never been a barbeque with rain or cold before, your dad seems to have control over this as well. There’s endless food and drinks, several activities for children, since it’s a family friendly event and everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, mixing and mingling.

You’re nursing a mojito you mixed yourself, so it’s generous in the alcohol department. Wearing a white sundress you’re trying to have a word with everyone you know and everyone you want to know. 

“Sweetheart!” You hear your father calling out and you spot him a few feet away, waving at you. “Come over here, I want to introduce someone to you!”

Excusing yourself from the conversation you slalom between the guests and reach your father under the oak tree that’s near the tiny pond in the middle of the backyard. Yes, your father has a pond in his backyard, as well as two pools, a jacuzzi and a whole ass greenhouse. He is just that extra.

“Hi daddy,” you smile, joining him as he places a hand to your back and gestures towards a man who is currently turned away.

“Y/N, let me introduce you to the man who will take my place in the future, my successor, if you’d like. This is Harry Styles. Harry, this is my only daughter, Y/N.”

Your body makes the realization faster than your mind. The man turns towards you, but by that moment you’ve already recognized the tattoos you’ve looked at in pictures more than you’d like to admit. Then you see his face and your stomach drops before your brain processes who you’re facing.

Harry stood you up on your first date two weeks ago and you thought you’d never see him, but fate decided to make a joke out of it, because now he is here, in the flesh, looking at you with a just as shocked expression as yours.

You both are quick to gain control back over your faces and Harry is the first one to break the silence.

“Hi, it’s, um… It’s nice to meet you,” he clears his throat as he holds a hand out for you. For a short moment you think of just turning around and walking away, but you don’t want to cause a scene and have your father question your behavior, so instead, you shake his hand, the touch of his skin sending tingles down your spine as you let go of it in a bit of a hurry.

“Yeah, it’s really nice to meet you,” you nod, but can’t hold back the spite in your voice. Luckily, your dad seems to be oblivious to the scene happening in front of him. 

“Remember that awfully long procedure we had to find the perfect person to take over after me? Harry was the only one to survive it and I knew we found our guy.”

Your dad pats him on the shoulder proudly and Harry smiles back at him, but you notice how tense he appears to be, most likely because of your presence. 

“Ah, he seems like a decent, reliable guy,” you add with a forced smile and you know he understands the meaning behind your words.

“He is!” you dad beams. “And Harry, this is my wonderful daughter, she graduated from CalArts, top of her class, she is an exceptional artist, you should see her work!”

He has seen your work. Well, virtually. Naturally, you talked about what you do and he asked you to send pictures and you did.

He loved them. Or at least that’s what he said. Now you question everything he wrote in his messages. 

“I’m sure she is… fantastic.”

The torture continues for a few more minutes before others join the three of you and you have a chance to slip away, which you grab without hesitation. 

It feels like all your blood is pumping in your head, you can’t tell if you’re shocked, angry or disappointed, most likely all of these together. Part of you wants to chug something strong to forget about it all, but then another part wants to read everything on him and tell him to fuck himself.

A tequila shot and some internal raging later you’re inside the house, it’s quiet, everyone is enjoying the weather outside, so you have a chance to settle your thoughts. With another mean cocktail in your hands you’re pacing back and forth in the spacious living room, your racing thoughts making it impossible to calm yourself. 

“Can I at least try to explain myself?”

The voice coming from the sliding door that leads out to the backyard makes you jump and when you turn around you spot Harry standing there, looking awfully good, but you’re way too angry at him to acknowledge it. 

“I don’t think I want to hear it.”

Out of frustration you can’t do anything else than drinking and avoiding to look at him, hoping he might disappear if you ignored him. Unfortunately, it’s not the case, he moves closer.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry about standing you up. It was unacceptable, I know. I had a… um, I had a family situation and I didn’t have a chance to let you know I wouldn’t make it.”

“What situation?” you ask right away, and when he hesitates you know it’s all made up. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I don’t need your apology, you didn’t think it was necessary to tell me you wouldn’t come then, now you’re only apologizing because you were forced to meet me.”

“Y/N, it’s not… it’s not what you think.”

“Oh, I think it’s very much what I think it is,” you let out a bitter laugh. “It’s fine, but I thought you were mature enough to tell me you’re not interested in me anymore. I’m a big girl, I can take the rejection.”

“But I was interested, I still–” He cuts himself off, not sure if it’s fine to say that he is still into you in the situation you found yourself in. “Y/N, I didn’t want to hurt you. This… It’s not how I planned it. I’m sorry.”

You want to stay mad. You want to stand your ground and unleash all your rage at him, but… you can’t. He might have been bullshitting you about why he stood you up, but he truly seems like he feels bad. 

And he really looks way too good.

“Alright. Apology accepted.”

He looks visibly relieved, his shoulders ease and even a tiny smile appears on his lips.

“Thank you. Really. So… Do you want to have a drink now?” he chuckles, but the devilish smirk you flash at him scares him instantly.

“Oh, I said apology accepted. That doesn’t mean we’re fine and back at where we were.”

Before he could say anything or question what you said you walk away, leaving him in a blur. 

You only see him from afar a few times until the end of the barbeque, you catch him staring quite a few times as well and his looks reflect hunger, so you assume your looks definitely live up to his expectations after all. You miss when he leaves at the end, but you know it won’t be the last time you see each other. 

A plan is formed in your mind about how to teach him a lesson for standing you up. A little game, to be exact. 

Two days after the barbeque you have to meet your dad in his office and you definitely don’t want to miss the opportunity to mess with Harry. You go out of your way to change before heading to the office, wearing a tight, extra short black dress that will surely catch his attention.

With a stack of documents under your arm you stroll into the building as if you owned it. Well, for a while you were set to inherit the business, but when your father realized you’re more into art, he ditched his plans and started looking for his successor. You remember how nervous you were before sitting down with him and telling him you wouldn’t take over the company like he wanted you to. To your surprise, he took it well and you realized he just wants you to be happy, doing whatever your heart desires. 

As a side hustle, you still get involved in some part of the business, just to learn the basic ropes and gain skills you can use in other fields as well, so every once in a while you can be found in the office. Today is one of those days.

The girls behind the front desk smile at you warmly and let you pass by, heading straight up to your dad’s office on the top. Standing in the elevator you check your outfit, making sure it’s not too revealing, but will do the purpose you wore it for. It doesn’t look like you’re going clubbing, but the amount of leg you’re showing will definitely earn you Harry’s attention, just how you planned.

It’s like fate is playing on your side, when you’re approaching the office you spot Harry in there with your dad, a devilish smirk tugging on your lips as you finally reach the glass door, knocking on it gently. They both lift their head up, but the expressions they make are very different. 

While your dad seems happy to see you, gesturing for you to come in, Harry on the other hand seems… shocked to say the least. Most likely not because he is seeing you, but because of how you look. You catch his gaze wandering down your legs right away, his chest rising with a deep breath as you walk inside.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt. I brought the documents you asked for.”

“You’re not interrupting anything, come in!” your dad waves around, rounding his desk to greet you with two kisses on your cheeks.

“Hi Harry, it’s so nice to see you again,” you smile at him charmingly, angling yourself so your legs are perfectly in his view. 

“It’s uh, it’s nice to see you as well, Y/N.” 

The blush on his cheeks is proof that your plan worked pretty well. While chatting with your dad, you keep an eye on Harry and see him practically devouring you with his eyes, his jaw clenches every time you move your weight to one leg and pop your hip out to the side. It’s safe to say he is a fan of your outfit.

“Alright, I better get going,” you sigh and start to pack your stuff when you drop your pen on purpose. The plan was to lean down and tease him even more, but he jumps to your rescue instantly, picking it up for you, but it gets his face to the same level as your thighs and he straightens up faster than the speed of light.

“Here,” he hands you the pen, obviously avoiding looking at you. This is probably the most fun you’ve had in a long time.

“Thank you,” you smile at him, making sure to brush your fingers against his hand as you take the pen from him. “Have a nice day.”

And with that, you stroll out of the office. 

Y/N one, Harry zero.

You don’t give him much time to recover from your appearance at the office. A few days later, on Friday, you decide to take advantage of your dad’s pool, which is one of the reasons you spend so much time at his. 

And of course because you love him. 

Today however, you have a different reason to parade in his backyard in the tiniest bikini you own. 

Your dad’s office has floor to ceiling windows watching over the glistening pool. Most of the time you try to avoid having a pool day when you know your dad is working from home, but Harry is here today, so that changes everything. 

You saw him arrive a few hours ago from your room’s window and they are still working, so when you’re done with your own business calls you decide it’s time to go for a swim. The neon pink bikini you chose was worn last time in Miami on spring break when you were still in college, a wild weekend you’ll never forget, but you’ve changed since then and it’s not really your style, but it will serve the purpose the best. To help your success you ‘ve also covered your body in tanning oil, making you glisten in the sun.

Putting on your sunglasses you grab a towel and tanning oil and head outside. 

It’s hot outside and you’re already planning to lie in the sun after a swim, the water glistening on your body. Putting on your best poker face you finally walk out and approach the pool. You know this place like the back of your hand, so you know exactly when you come into view from the office. Squaring your shoulders you keep your head high and walk up to one of the sunbeds, dropping your stuff down before striking a not too obvious pose as you put your hair up. Angling yourself just right, you catch a glimpse of what’s going inside and you need everything in you not to start grinning when you spot Harry not far from the window, staring at you like he is about to burst. Your dad is somewhere in the back on the phone, oblivious to the scene that’s happening so close to him. 

The second act starts when you grab the tanning oil and start applying it, rubbing it into your skin, making a show out of it. Oh, how you wish you could see Harry’s face up close, but you have a good guess what’s happening in his mind and it’s very pleasing.

First, you lie down to tan some, normally you cover your head with a towel because of the heat and not care about how you look, but this time you try your best to look as if you just jumped out of a Sports Illustrated catalog. 

Not long later it’s time to jump in the pool. You swim a few laps before emerging from the cold water and returning to your sunbed, all while imagining what could Harry be thinking right now. 

You’re still chilling in the sun when you hear the sliding door open and spot your dad walking out. For a moment you freeze, afraid he might tell you off for using the pool when he is working with someone in his office, but he seems delighted.

“Hey, I have to head out for a quick meeting, I’ll pick up lunch on my way home, want me to grab you something?”

“That would be great, thank you,” you smile at him peeking over the rim of your sunglasses.

“Harry is here, so don’t be surprised if you run into him. He’ll probably stay in the office.”

“Alright.”

With that he turns around and disappears in the garage. You hear the engine start and then he drives away, leaving you and Harry as the only people in the house. Not to make it obvious, you turn to look inside the office, but you’re surprised to see that Harry is not there anymore. Has he left the house as well? Did your plan not work after all?

It’s starting to get too hot outside and you didn’t bring anything to drink so you decide to give up and go inside. Heading into the kitchen all you can think about is a glass of cold lemonade.

Rummaging through the fridge you grab the bowl of fruit salad you made yesterday and brought over and as you’re balancing everything in your hands and pushing the fridge’s door closed with your hips, it scares you when you see Harry standing behind you by the kitchen island.

“Jesus, are you a fucking ninja? I didn’t hear you.”

Walking closer you set everything down to the island and pretend like your pulse is not over the roof. Not just because of the scare, but because he looks incredibly good. FItted pants and simple white shirt, the top few buttons are undone, showing a glimpse of his chest, the sleeves are rolled up, allowing you to check out his tattoos as well. God, if you weren’t trying to teach him a lesson you would be all over him already.

It makes you feel better though that he is definitely checking you out as well. He is not trying to mask it too much, his eyes keep wandering down your body that’s still only covered at the most crucial parts by your tiny swimwear.

“Having a day off?” he leisurely asks, hiding his hands in his pockets as he leans against the island next to you.

“Nope, my work is pretty flexible. I’m mostly my own boss.”

You see him nod from the corner of your eyes as you dig into the fruit salad, trying to act casual and ignore the fact that you’re in a hot pink bikini while he is dressed for work. 

“So how long are we going to play this?” he then asks out of the blue. 

You know exactly what he is talking about, but you won’t give in that easily. With your hands on your hips you turn to face him with an innocent look on your face and you don’t miss how his eyes snap down to your chest, then to your lips before they move back to your eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A tiny little smile tugs on the corner of his lips as he looks away, out to the terrace where the pool’s glistening surface is probably reminding him of the show you gave him not long ago.

“Is this supposed to be punishment?”

“Did you do something you deserve punishment for?” you tilt your head to the side. 

He opens his mouth to reply, but then decides against it, just stares back at you and you wish you could read his mind. He pushes himself away from the island and starts to walk away, you take it as your wind or this round, so you turn back to your snack, but then suddenly he moves back and cages you between his arms, his hands gripping the counter on either side of you. He is behind you now, not even touching you anywhere, but still, it’s as if he was everywhere on your body. Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear his low voice in your ear.

“If you want to play, I’m happy to play along. But be careful, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

This should be the perfect moment for a clever remark, but your mind is so fogged up you can’t articulate one solid thought. He moves back and you feel his presence disappear from behind you before you see him walking back towards the office, but before he could disappear he shoots one last comment at you.

“Pink looks good on you!”

He did not joke when he said he would play along.

So far, only you’ve been playing this game, but since your little pool side performance, Harry has definitely turned it up on his side as well. 

He has been pretty subtle so far. The bastard has noticed that his tattoos make you droop, that you love to check out his backside whenever he is wearing fitted pants and those smirks… they make you weak in the knees every damn time. And he takes every opportunity to use these against you whenever you run into each other. 

You’ve been dropping by your dad’s office a lot more often than usually in hopes of seeing Harry and he’s been a frequent guest at your dad’s house as well. Stolen looks, tiny touches and never ending teasing have become your usual lately and you’ve been enjoying it way too much probably. 

It’s been pretty long since you had a crush and it’s an exciting change to have this little thing going on with Harry, whatever it really is. 

The major change is that you’ve started to text again. A few days after your encounter in your dad’s kitchen the flow started again and you’ve been talking ever since. It’s like before the failed date. 

Two weeks pass by and you realize it’s been only small little games, nothing extreme since your show at the pool. You’ve been trying to come up with a move that will leave him defeated and a shopping spree with Dani is what gives you the idea. 

She always makes you go lingerie shopping, she likes to surprise her boyfriend with new sets and while looking around you find one that catches your eyes and you end up buying it with the pure intention of making it part of your game. 

You’ve never been that big of a fan of fancy lingerie sets, but you do know it’s what you need to spice the game up. 

When you’re finally home you put on the quite revealing black set, fix your hair and even look up what poses are the best if you want to send racy pictures to your partner. Well, Harry is not your romantic partner, but definitely your partner in this game. 

You take quite a few pictures, some in the mirror, some with a timer, your camera roll turns into the newest issue of PlayBoy and it takes even more time for you to choose just one. When you finally settle on one it’s time for the fun part. Opening up the text threat with Harry, you send the photo and a few moments later a text.

Y/N: Sorry, meant to send it to someone else.

And then you just wait. 

For an hour your message stays unread, but then the status changes and your heart jumps into your throat. He saw the message eleven minutes ago, but there’s no response and it sends you down the rabbit hole.

Did your plan work? Is he fighting a major hard-on at the office? Or does he think your attempt to seduce him was ridiculous? Is he gonna lecture you about sending nudes? Why is he not responding???

Minutes turn into an hour and you’re losing hair at this point, regretting you even thought about sending him a spicy picture and you’re about to block his number, getting yourself ready to never see him again when your phone finally chimes with a message and Harry’s name appears in the notification.

HARRY: No. Shit like this can only be meant for me. I’m serious.

You gasp. Almost moan reading his words. And suddenly you forget about the madness you went through in the past hour. It was worth it, it was all worth it because this one message has lit you on fire. 

His message stunned you so much you didn’t even reply. What could be said after that? 

Got it, sir.

Or maybe…

Don’t tell me what to do.

Oh yeah, that would have really messed with him, but you chose silence and he didn’t double text you either. It stopped the flow of regular messages too and in the next three days you realize how much you miss him when you’re not talking. 

You’re falling for him and you hate that beside the little games, he is not taking the step you want him to. 

A few days after the picture was sent an old friend of yours comes to visit his family in the city and the two of you agree to catch up over dinner. Salim was your study buddy through college, he was always up to spend the entire day in the library whenever you had a theoretical exam to take. Art school wasn’t just painting and creating all the time, unfortunately. After graduation he moved to France with his boyfriend and has been living there for the past years, but he often comes home to visit his loved ones and he always makes time for you as well. You’ve been keeping in touch, but not as regularly as you used to and it’s great to talk when you’re not only in the same time zone but also in the same room. 

“Look at you! You’re glowing!” he greets you when you get out of the Uber and he wraps you in a tight hug. 

“Not as much as you! I see Claude is taking good care of you!” you chuckle, squeezing him back before letting go of each other. He looks stylish as always and you notice he’s starting to dress more and more like Claude, whose style is excellent, by the way. They fit each other really well.

You walk into the restaurant, it’s one of your favorite places and the host shows you your table. You order appetizers and drinks and dig into everything you haven’t discussed over the phone in the past couple of months. 

“Now, tell me about that Tinder guy you last mentioned,” Salim smirks at you over the table and you realize you never told him the whole story, just that you were going on a date with Harry. 

A lot has happened since then.

You update him about the failed date and the meeting at the barbeque and how you’ve been messing with each other since then. 

“You did what?” He almost chokes on his wine.

“I sent him a nude picture,” you repeat yourself with a coy smile. 

“You’re really brave, I would have never had the balls,” he snorts. 

“I needed to step my game up. But we’ve been stuck since then.”

“He’s too busy jerking off to your photo,” he chuckles.

“No,” you smile. “Maybe he is… here.”

Your eyes grow wide when you spot the all too familiar form of Harry by the bar and he is staring at you with a bewildered look that does things to you that you can’t exactly explain. 

“What?” Salim’s face forms a confused frown. 

“He is… literally here. At the bar and don’t turn around, but he is looking straight at us.”

Your body is reacting as if you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to, but nothing like that is happening, so you’re not sure why your reaction is so intense. Luckily, discretion is no problem for Salim, so he turns to see Harry in a way that’s not too obvious. When he looks back at you his eyes are just as wide as yours.

“Holy shit, he really is hot!”

“I know!” you whisper, not sure what to do, because Harry is still very much staring at you. “Fuck, should I say hi?”

“No, let him come to you if he wants to!”

Nodding, you try your best to focus on the food and your friend in front of you, but it’s almost impossible when you can clearly see Harry over Salim’s shoulder. Either he keeps staring at you or you always catch him looking, doesn’t matter, because it makes your stomach drop every time your gaze meets his. 

Then your phone lights up with a text from him.

HARRY: I hope it’s not a date.

“Oh my God, he thinks we are on a date,” you whisper to Salim upon reading the text while keeping your face as straight as humanly possible. 

“Is he jealous?”

“Most likely,” you nod, typing your response.

Y/N: And what if it is?

His reply comes before you could even lock the phone.

HARRY: It better not be.

Y/N: So bossy. Unfortunately, you have no right to hold me back from dating.

“I think I stood my ground, but I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

Placing the phone back to the table with screen down you’re determined to focus on Salim from now on, but it’s just impossible to move on from those texts. At some point however, Harry disappears from your view and you fight the urge to check your phone to see if he had any response.

While Salim is trying to decide if he wants some dessert or just another cocktail you excuse yourself to the restroom. It’s definitely been an emotional rollercoaster, not just your usual friendly catch-up, you’ll surely be thinking about it for a while. 

Just as you’re about to close the door behind you a foot sticks in and stops you and then everything happens so fast.

The door is forced open and you gasp as you take a step back and watch Harry walk in, close the door behind him and lock it as well. His eyes are burning as he looks at you and you’re just a speechless ragdoll as he pushes you against the cold, tiled wall, caging you between his arms, his hips pressing against yours.

“Who is he?” he hisses at you, his pupils dilated and wild and you’ve never seen him from this close, you’re basically breathing the same air.

“He’s…” You can’t speak or form any words, the air is pushed out of your lungs every time you try to fill them enough to give you the strength to speak up. Fuck, you’ve never seen him like this, but it’s making your pussy throb for sure.

“Answer me or I’ll go out and make a scene to find out.”

“He’s just a friend,” you manage to breathe out. 

“Are you fucking him?”

“No.” You want to tell him that you couldn’t even if you wanted to, because Salim would be more interested in fucking him than you, but the words die on your tongue when he exhales sharply at your answer.

“Fuck your little games, Y/N,” he then says, almost growls as he shakes his head in defeat. 

“Fuck me instead,” you hear yourself saying, but it’s as if it wasn’t you who spoke, yet you still said exactly what you had in your mind. 

HIs eyes are throwing flames again when one of his hands moves to the side of your neck, his thumb moving under your chin to tilt your head upwards, angling your head, but still just teasing you.

“No more games.”

“No,” you shake your head desperately. Your hands have found their way to his waist and you fist his shirt, fighting the urge to rip it off him.

“I mean it, Y/N. It’s all in or nothing. I want you to be mine.”

“I’m already yours.”

His kiss comes so fast your head goes dizzy for a second before you recover and return it just as eagerly as it came. It’s been the longest foreplay, weeks worth of teasing and yearning after each other end now as Harry’s body presses you against the wall with so much force it’s almost too much, but you want him as close as possible. 

Even though you’re certain you’ve lost your mind, your consciousness still knows you’re in a public bathroom and you have limited time. Harry knows too and he wastes no time moving you over to the counter, he hoists you up and sits you on top of the granite next to the sink. You gladly wrap your legs around his waist and lock him against you while his mouth is now exploring the curve of your neck and shoulders, desperately pushing the straps of your dress to the side to reach more of your skin. Your body is reacting instantly to him, your hips roll against him and you feel his bulge between your legs, a tortured moan slipping out of your mouth. 

“Harry!” you beg him, when his hand slips under your dress and into your underwear, his skilled fingers teasing you just right, but you need him fast and hard, this is not the time and place to play games.

“I wish I could take my time with you,” he grunts before playfully biting the soft skin on your neck while unbuckling his belt. “But I’m gonna fuck you fast and you’ll take it like the good little slut you are.”

All you can do is whine and force your legs further apart, watching him push his pants and underwear down in one motion, his cock springing free, ready to ruin you. Harry pushes your dress up your torso and hooks a finger into your panties, pushing the fabric to the side to reveal your drenched pussy. 

“Have you thought about me while touching yourself?” he asks, his other hand going to his cock, lazily tugging on it, precum dripping from the tip.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He jerks on his cock a few more times before spitting on it and pushing inside you without warning. A scream dies in your throat, because you bite into your own hand not to make too much noise, but he is definitely bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with, his erection is filling you up, stretching you like nothing and no one before.

“Don’t whine, I know you can take it,” he pants, his eyes rapidly switching between your face and his cock buried balls deep inside you. 

All you can do is nod before he starts moving. He gives you a few slow thrusts to adjust, but then he picks his pace up and starts slamming into you ruthlessly.

And you love every moment of it.

It’s so animalistic, so intoxicating, your head feels dizzy again and you need everything inside you not to start screaming his name. Normally you need more stimulation and time to feel your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach, but it’s different with Harry. You can already feel your climax nearing.

“So fucking good, you take me so well,” he preaches you, his hands holding onto your thighs to keep you in place and you curl an arm around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss.

“I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you in that bar.”

His words reach your brain and you process what he said, but you can’t reply at that moment, because you’re already on the verge of your orgasm.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your climax, he is the first one but you chase after him just seconds later. It lasts long and he keeps thrusting into you even when it’s dying down. His face is buried in your neck when he finally stops and you both are panting heavily.

When he lifts his head he’s looking at you with hazy eyes, but the smile that tugs on the corners of his lips is something you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

“You said you wanted to fuck me the moment you saw me at the bar,” you repeat his words from earlier now that you can actually form words. Judging from the look on his face he knows why you’re questioning him.

You never met at the bar, he stood you up that night.

“I went there,” he admits. “I saw that other guy flirting with you and… I didn’t think I stood a chance with you. So I left.”

You’re staring back at him in disbelief. All this time you thought he didn’t come because you weren’t good enough for him, but it was the opposite. He was there. He came and wanted to meet you, but lost his confidence because of that random guy.

“You’re the only person who ever stood a chance with me,” you softly say as you reach up to take his face in your hands.

“I thought I was too old for you.”

“But I knew you were older all along,” you chuckle. “It was never an issue for me.”

“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.” He kisses you softly and it’s mind-blowing how he was fucking you hard just moments ago and now he is treating you so gently.

“I need to go back, Salim will get suspicious,” you sigh as you slip off the counter, trying to fix yourself.

“Oh, your date is waiting for you,” he teases you, pulling his pants back up.

“He is gay, Harry,” you chuckle and watch his expression change.

“Okay, I approve.”

You laugh and pull him down for another kiss.

“Should we talk about this after?”

“I can come over when you get home.”

“I’m afraid we won’t do much talking if you do that,” you grin at him, arching an eyebrow.

“Promise, I’ll be a gentleman for at least thirty minutes. That should be enough for all the talking.”

“Uhuh, alright. See you at mine then,” you nod before slipping out of the bathroom.

The plates are empty, dinner is now officially nearing its end but you still haven’t broken the news to your dad. 

The news that you and Harry are together.

He is sitting across from you at the table, his hesitant eyes finding your gaze every other minute. He is shitting his pants, you know that, even though you told him your dad will probably take it well. He is not one to stress about such things, but Harry didn’t believe you, he thinks he’ll throw him out of the company and tell you to never see him again.

Absurd. 

Clearing your throat you decide it’s time for the announcement.

“Dad, I want to tell you something,” you speak up and panic flashes through Harry’s face for a moment, but he’s quick to mask it. 

“Alright, I’m listening,” he smiles at you.

“Okay, I’ll just… Um, I want you to know that I’ve been dating someone. It’s kind of… serious,” you add, your eyes finding Harry over the table and you don’t miss the blush on his cheeks. 

“That’s amazing! Do I know this person?” your dad enthuses.

“Well, you know him very well. He is actually sitting here at the table.”

You watch as realization washes over his face, he looks over at Harry and then back at you, while you both wait for his reaction.

Then a tiny smile appears on his face and you know you were right, there was nothing to worry about.

“That’s great news, I’m happy for you.”

Harry exhales in relief and you can’t help but laugh.

“See? I told you,” you smirk at him with a shrug.

“Are you sure you’re alright with it?” Harry asks, still a bit doubtful, but your dad just smiles at him warmly. 

“I’m more than sure, son. Why would I not be alright with it? I trust you with my company, I trust you with my daughter too. Easy as it is.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[forlorn-crows]

𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒚 11: 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒇𝒆𝒎

pairing(s): aeon/swiss words: 1619

Swiss mouths at him, pressing his full lips right over the pretty bow that adorns the bulge in his panties. A simple pair Cirrus had bought for him: dark blue with a blush pink bow, silky to the touch with a small line of lace trim around the waistband. Immediately boner-inducing the moment he’d slipped them on, and every time since. 

“Such a cute little thing, baby,” he mumbles against Aeon’s chubbed cock. “So perfect under these little panties.”

Aeon bites his lip. Rucks his shirt up a bit higher, exposing the tiny line of happy trail over his navel. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Swiss rumbles. He smooths over that hair, watching goosebumps rise as he pets. “Should wear these more often. Keep that cock nice and snug.” 

It twitches at his words, quickly working its way to fully erect. Never able to stay even a little soft around Swiss. 

“Oh, it likes that idea, baby. Should’ve tucked it between your thighs before you got hard so it could pop out from between them.” He gets an almost wistful look on his face then, clearly picturing it—how he’d see the drip of pre against the inside of his thighs before the shaft plumped up, pulling tighter and tighter until his legs could no longer hold the sticky head hostage. 

It puts a different sort of picture in Aeon’s mind. And he just can’t keep it to himself.

He bites his tongue, the sweet lilac tip poking out between his pearly teeth. Aeon wriggles, pulling his shirt a little higher, exposing tummy. “Don’t you think I’d make a pretty girl, Swiss?” he muses.

Swiss grins, predatory. Clearly, he was picturing the same: a smaller thing growing plump between skin that isn’t his thighs. Panties concealing a creamy slit instead of the ridge of his cock. It takes no convincing at all on Aeon’s end to get Swiss on board the fantasy that’s rapidly taking off between them.

“The prettiest girl, baby,” the multi agrees. His hands pet at the soft hair on Aeon’s thighs, tongue darting out to lick at him again. When he pulls back again, there’s a spot of precum soaked into the silk along with his spit. “Fuck. I’d eat you out for hours. Worship that pretty pussy like it deserves.”

Aeon hums, walking his fingers down his dappled happy trail. “Would you?”

A pause. Aeon’s eyes flick between his mouth and the wet spot, and Swiss has to huff a laugh. “Would I what?” He catches that gaze, sly and knowing. 

Aeon’s eyes sparkle as he looks down at Swiss. He raises an eyebrow and pokes his tongue between his teeth again, cocking his head coquettishly. He spreads his legs, careful to keep himself contained within the small stretch of fabric. He trails the hand playing with the hem of his shirt down to his crotch instead and spreads his pointer and middle finger over top of his shaft. Parting the digits as if parting folds, the vee of them framing the head of his cock—his clit—which stands in aching relief beneath the fabric.

“Eat me out,” he says simply, “like a girl.”

Swiss groans long and low, immediately pressing his nose in between Aeon’s fingers. The swell of his cockhead nuzzles into the bridge of it as he scents him with great flourish. Shoving his nose as deep as it will go into the dampened fabric, rubbing the tip of it and his parted lips up and down the line of his dick. 

“I’ll do whatever you want,” he rumbles, warm eyes sparkling with mischief as he looks up through dark lashes, “if you’re a good girl for me.”

Aeon’s breath hitches. “Over the panties?” His voice is hushed, sharp, eager—like he’s sharing a secret he shouldn’t be. “Could get me so wet.”

The multi ghoul pulls back and gives a pointed look at the darkened fabric between Aeon’s fingers. “Already pretty wet, sweetheart,” Swiss comments, swirling the tip of his tongue over the imprint of Aeon’s slit. 

The sensation of the warm, wet silk rubbing over the frenulum makes his eyes unfocus, rolling back into his head with a wanton moan.

“Yeah, baby? Like when I kiss it?”

“Fu-huh-uck, more, please; more,” he half laughs half groans. “Feels good.”

“Move that hand, lemme do all the work. That’s it, that’s my girl.” Swiss guides Aeon’s hand to rest back on his stomach, hem of his shirt catching between his fingers as it draws upward. “Want me to suck on this pretty clit, don't you? Fuck, look how fat it is for me—”

Aeon keens as Swiss’ mouth returns, this time to suck. His thighs twitch under the multi-ghoul’s hands. Muscles jumping and trying to close. Whether to keep Swiss in or squeeze him out, he doesn’t have enough brain power to decipher. As soon as that talented tongue swirls around the tip of his cock, all coherent thought fizzles out.

“Shit, Swiss,” he curses. Aeon grabs a handful of his locs and grinds up into his mouth. “Yes, that’s—yeah.”

“Yeah? That the spot?” Swiss goads. 

Aeon nods, keening again as the multi ghoul sucks again. “T-tell me how it tastes . . . how my pussy tastes,” he groans.

“Sinful, baby,” Swiss rumbles against him. “Just throbbing for this, isn’t it?”

“Uh huh.”

“So full; just fuckin’ begging to be touched and sucked.” 

“Fuck yeah, suck i-i-i-it.”

Swiss chuckles as he swirls around the head of his cock, around and around until the fabric soaks all the way through. He presses the flat of his tongue to the slit and wiggles it back and forth. Teasing before closing his mouth around it once more. Aeon can’t contain the lavish moan that escapes his throat, so instantly sensitive that he can’t help but buck his hips and toss his head against the sheets. 

“Easy,” the multi ghoul hushes him. He pushes a firm hand into Aeon’s stomach, stilling his eager hips. “There ya go, good girl. Try to keep ‘em still for me.”

Aeon bites his lip. “Making my—” Swiss sucks hard and his jaw drops, eyes rolling back. “Ssshhit, making my clit so hard.”

“‘N wet,” Swiss mumbles. “You’re cunt wet, too?”

Swiss slides his hand down the front of the panties, fingers poised like they could go . . .  inside. Instead, he presses over the ridge of his balls and tucks them under, curling his fingers up and into his taint as he takes the head into his mouth again. 

“Fuck—!” Aeon can feel a fat glob of pre soak into the underwear and smear over Swiss’ tongue. “Oh, finger me, put ‘em in deep.” 

That’s right, Swiss presses into his mind, the rich timbre of his voice rumbling through his brain. Lemme hear how good it feels. 

Aeon groans. He really should have known better. “Lucifer, you’re going to kill me.”

He loses track of himself, then. Gets lost in the firm press of Swiss’ fingers, petting at his prostate from the outside in; in the suction of his lips and tongue as they work over his soaked cockhead, the texture of the silk only adding to his rapidly crumbling resolve; and, in the way Swiss gets into it, gripping his thigh to keep him spread, pulling his fingers from underneath his balls to spread his saliva and pre over the tip as if it were slick, moaning into his crotch like he really has a mouthful of cunt. 

It’s sexy, and the fantasy makes Aeon’s stomach clench in a horrible, delicious way. 

“Close,” he warns all too soon. “Fuck, Swiss, you’re gonna make me cum like this, oh fuck.”

Yeah, atta girl, Swiss projects, sucking harder. Wanna see it. Wanna see you squirt for me.

Aeon’s cock kicks hard against his mouth, balls drawing tight in his hand. “‘M gonna,” he whimpers, eyes squeezing shut. “Oh oh oh, ‘m gonna cum for you, gonna make this pussy cum—” He cuts off wordlessly, mouth dropping all the way open as the pleasure in his gut erupts in a plume of shivers. Spreading until it has nowhere to go but out, and Aeon’s cock kicks and spurts like it’s been waiting to do since he first slipped the underwear on. Cum bubbles up through the silky fabric and dribbles over the front of the panties in little rivulets, dragging down the soaked line of Aeon’s cock as Swiss works him through it with the flat of his tongue. Hard, long licks that make the quint ghoul’s toes curl. 

“Fuck, you had a lot to give me, baby,” Swiss groans, lapping it up. “Didn’t know my girl could squirt like this.” Aeon whines at that. If he had half a mind, he’d crane his neck up to see the streaks of white in Swiss’ beard that shot out first. Instead, he goes completely boneless, save for his hips that can’t stop arching up into the multi ghoul’s face. 

“Lucifer,” he rasps, covering his face with both his hands but peeking through his fingers. “How’d you do that?” 

Swiss just shrugs. “Just usin’ what the Dark Lord gave me.” He smiles wide and licks across his fangs, showy. Picking up the last bit of spend off his top lip. “Should get you next to Aurora, show her how pretty my girl sounds.”

Aeon’s cock gives a feeble twitch right underneath that pretty pink bow. “I’m sure she sounds better,” he mumbles, omitting the fact that he knows and hears how she begs and giggles and screams for Swiss when he’s got his mouth on her, the multi ghoul ravenous and nothing short of a generous lover.

Swiss shrugs. “We’ll just have to find out, then; won’t we, sweetheart?”

[miukki960]

I'm gonna make this post before I go in the tag and see ANY God or Diew slander, because for me the conflict this episode not only made sense, but was necessary for their relationship to move forward.

The seed was planted long ago when God first found the picture of Diew and Dr. Asshole, and at first God handled it rationally (as expected of our Green Flag King). But the longer the situation went unresolved, the more doubt and insecurity began to creep in until it all came to a head in this episode, because all God needed was honesty and openness from Diew, but Diew has learned from past conditioning to lock those parts of himself away and only show a surface level of his personality and self.

I found that God's argument with Diew, while definitely escalated by emotion and insecurity, was justified at its core. We've learned throughout this story that God's main love language is Quality Time, and that most often is fulfilled by God genuinely enjoying doing anything and everything with the people he loves, so long as they are having a good time. But his conversation with Dr. Asshole put the idea in his mind that Diew has simply been going with the flow and doing whatever God suggested in order to make him feel good, that he hasn't actually enjoyed their time together. And while we as an audience know that's false, the idea is one of God's worst fears and most devastating nightmares.

But he loves Diew and doesn't want to believe it's true, so he gives him multiple chances to prove him wrong. And when Diew continues to reply with lies and deflection, it unfortunately proves him right. Because while the context is a bit off and there is definitely a misunderstanding at play, at the end of the day Diew isn't being honest and isn't trusting God enough to open up and show him the deeper, more emotional parts of himself. So God comes to the only conclusion he can see, that even if Diew is no longer in love with Dr. Asshole, their love was deeper and more meaningful than what he has with God now.

But don't get me wrong! Even though Diew was choosing the wrong dialog options during his argument with God, he was also justified in choosing to keep his secrets and emotions hidden. What God doesn't know is that Diew HAS opened up before, bared his heart and soul to someone he thought he loved and trusted, and what was he rewarded with? Disinterest, deflection, shame. As someone with major anxieties related to human interaction, you only have to burn him once to teach him to never play with fire again. And Dr. Asshole burned him deeply on multiple occasions.

No amount of kindness and sweetness and love from God was gonna convince him to play with fire again. In fact, it was reaffirming. Much like what we have been seeing with Wan towards Beer, I'm sure Diew sees how good and wonderful God is and is absolutely terrified to fuck it up. But just like Wan, his defense became his biggest downfall.

At the end of the day, rather than focusing on what happened, we should instead focus on why it happened and how the characters are going to grow from it. And we can see that how through the characters actions during the last few minutes of the episode. We see Diew, who's defense is to isolate, actively reaching out to God multiple times in multiple ways, ready to explain and open up and heal. And we see God going through the more nasty, volatile parts of his emotions alone, so he doesn't hurt Diew while he's in the wrong headspace, but also doesn't bottle the bad things to explode later.

I think what gets me the most is that in their very last conversation before the end of the episode, Diew was asking for togetherness and God was asking for space, and they were both upset on many levels, but they were still speaking to each other with love in their tone and words.

[ilovebuckers5]

*•♡never be like you pt 3 ♡¸.•*'

nika muhl x cheerleader!reader

"I'm falling on my knees. forgive me, I'm a fucking fool "

word count - 2.3k

themes :

-angst if you squint

-smut

warnings :

-public sex

-fingering

a/n - sorry for how long it took me to post this. writers block was biting me in the ass. enjoy the smut!!! ( I did not spell check sooooo sorry)

the days between when I asked Nika to the concert and the actual concert were hell. all I could think about was her. and the occasional thought about what Farah was planning for fucking over Asher but that's for another day.

finally, it was the day of the concert. I had already ordered an outfit from about a million different websites but it came together perfectly. I was going to be basic and just where a purple skirt and a white top but the more I looked in online stores, the crazier (and shinier) my outfit got. I decided on a sparkly purple blazer and a black mini skirt with a matching black tube top. the only shoes I could find were purple doc martins so that's what I went with.

the moment I stepped out of my closet to show Farah my outfit, I was convinced that she dropped dead. her hands slammed on the desk she was sitting beside. she stood up and ran her hands over the shoulders of my blazer. "its so fucking good oh my God. I'm kind of mad at you actually. I wish I came up with this." her eyes and hands traced over my entire outfit in awe. before I could even look at myself in the mirror, Farah began taking way too many photos. "I'm sending these all the Nika." that's when I slapped the phone out of her hand.

i almost broke my nose diving for her phone to delete all the pictures. the last thing I wanted was for Nika to see me in a ridiculously glittery outfit with anything else done. if I was doing a big reveal for her then it would have to be when I'm fully ready.

while Farah changed into her outfit, which was a mystery to me, I started doing my makeup. the concert was in 3 hours from now and the venue was 1 hour and 30 minutes away. so as long as Farah didn't take forever getting ready, we would be fine. of course that's as long as Nika was ready.

------------------------------------------------------------

nika's pov

to be honest, I've only heard one Olivia Rodrigo song in my entire life. and its not like I hated it but it wasn't my type of music. but because I love concerts and y/n, I turned on a playlist with her music and started getting ready. me, Farah, and y/n had made a group chat just for this occasion. we barely talked in it, more of just updating each other on where the concert was at and what time it was. the only appropriate outfit I could find was a pair of black jean shorts and a purple tank top. when I tried showing a couple of the girls on my team, I've never gotten more disapproval. they forced me to get letters and designs ironed on the top so once the outfit was put together I had a purple tank top with the words 'sorry my guts spilled' on it with my shorts and a purple pair of Nike dunks that I had to borrow from Paige. oh yeah, the group chat was also used for outfit checks. so I got sent pictures of outfits on racks, hangers, beds, floors, and people. I couldn't care enough to do all that so I just sent a picture of my outfit once it was on me.

farah and y/n had to have been the most hyped up girls I've ever met. they couldn't stop spamming the group chat when they saw my outfit. it honestly felt nice. I didn't do much makeup because I knew how hot those stadiums got. I just put on some mascara and lip liner and I was ready to go. I didn't want to end up looking a mess afterwards, I guess the girls did though.

when I was getting ready, one song sort of stuck out compared to all the others. love is embarrassing. I kind of related to it. loves was never really my thing. at least in college it wasn't. love seemed like something that would get me distracted. as much as I adored seeing other couples out on dates and couples going to each other's event like sports games, it seemed well, embarrassing to me.

i tried to keep it like that.

the time that the girls spent getting ready on seemed to go by slower than ever. i found myself sitting on my bed and my couch and every other surface ever. when finally i got a text.

'we're here!'

i launched myself off of the ledge of my counter and grabbed my bag. i made sure to bring a couple extra water bottles and other necessities so that if anyone ran out, that actually wouldn't.

the moment i sat in the car, the energy shifted.

when i looked from afar, the girls were going back and forth with no music playing. as if one or the other was panicking about something. but when i got there, they acted normal as ever. weird.

"heyyyy! you ready?"

fatah squealed, shaking my shoulder. i smiled in return while nodding my head up and down.

"yess! let's go!"

i wanted to talk to y/n but she barely looked at me. i couldn't tell if it was out of fear or if she just forgot to say something but i knew it didn't feel that good.

the entire car ride was filled with the two girls informing me about olivia rodrigo's songs and who they are about and who she's dated. and to be honest i was pretty invested. more than any other artist. the girls knew every lyrics to every song and it made me feel out of place but i knew i'd settle in once i heard her live.

"oh my god and just a little while ago she released guts spilled!"

i couldn't help but tilt my head in confusion.

"what's that?"

the girls gave eachother a look as if they were about to stop the car and put on a performance of what 'guts spilled' is.

"it's like a bonus to guts! it has five new tracks that basically everyone was waiting for!"

i could tell that this was something y/n had been waiting to be asked about. the pure joy in her face and voice brought a light smile to my face. her eyebrows were raised and her eyes were open wide.

"i think you'll like obsessed and girl i've always been..." farah leaned back to look at me and whisper.

the rest of the car ride was pretty fun actually. we spent time memorizing lyrics. well. they spent time helping me memorize lyrics and eventually i got lost in the music, making the time on the road go by extremely quick. by the time we were at the stadium, i had basically learned all the lyrics to both of olivia's albums. farah and y/n were so proud.

this parking lot was more packed than any concert lot i've ever been to. i mean every single spot was taken. we had to park on the street and speed walk to the stadium. we got in after what felt like hours of checking bags and tickets and whatever. and once we were in? it was cold.

cold and mildy empty. we had gotten there around 40 minutes early so we found the pit and hung around until the entire stadium was full.

when the light went off, i felt the entire aura switch very quickly. there was a different artist opening. and while i had heard of olivia once or twice around social media, i had never heard of chappell roan. of course farah and y/n had because they began screaming every single lyrics. the music actually was bad so i started to dance along and hum to as much lyrics as i could understand.

finally there were purple lights flashing and olivia came out. i couldn't help but scream along with everyone because as much as i tried to hide it, i was pretty fucking excited.

------------------------------------------------------------

y/n's pov

i don't think i could express how badly i want to wrap my arms around nika just for her coming. we were basically strangers and she came to a whole concert with us. a normal person wouldn't just do that. nika would.

i won't lie, the way our shoulders bumped up against eachother while we were dancing and singing felt even better than hearing olivia rodrigo live.

there were even moments where the air was steamy but bearable. i'd take a second to look to the side and there nika would be, already looking at me as if she was waiting for our eyes to meet. she would nod her head, asking if she could take my hand without speaking. and of course i never denied. she held both of our hands in the air and jumped around to all-american bitch. i know she meant it in a "this is a girls moment" way but my head told me that she was holding my hand the way i had been wanting to for the past week.

none of this could leave my mouth of course. because one ; it was too loud for anyone to even hear my words and two ; it wouldn't be the best choice to confess my love to nika in the middle of a concert. so i shoved my thoughts and fluttery words right back down my throat and replaced them with song lyrics.

all of the thoughts in my head were bringing me to tears. the fact that i was actually in the same stadium as olivia rodrigo and the fact that i was in the same arm distance as nika muhl. and i couldn't even hold her how ive wanted.

then the scream happened. right before the scream in all-american bitch was about to happen, olivia stopped and told everyone to scream for themselves. and i knew exactly what to think about when i screamed.

i screamed about having to wait for nika even though it might not work out. i thought about the fact that our bodies were pressed together in the most platonic way possible. i screamed about the fact that i still had to sort shit out with asher when i got back to campus. and i screamed about the fact that nika had no idea.

in my head i was the loudest person there but i know i wasn't when all of the screams melted together into one.

then she played obsessed. my favorite. there were a good amount of Olivia Rodrigo songs that I did relate to and this was not one of them. I've never been obsessed with anyone's ex. I've never really...cared.

i remember when the song was first leaked on a podcast on Spotify it was the only thing I listened to for a while. I knew every lyric like the back of my hand even if I didn't associate them with my own life.

olivia had changed into a red body suit and she looked amazing. it shocked me how she sounded so perfect while dancing but that's just Olivia Rodrigo for you.

i noticed Nika getting even more loud during this song. she actually was singing the lyrics as if she had known them for months. I felt proud as fuck. are hands met again. we were jumping up and down to the beat of the drums, screaming together like we had been friends for years.

everything went by so quickly.

next thing I knew she had her hand around my waist while she tried to catch her breath. her head was closer to my hands then my face and she had a death grip on her own knee. her back lifted and fell as her heavy breaths slowly went away. i had my hand on her back, trying to make sure she was ok while the song continued.

when her head was back up at eye level the first thing she did was lean into my ear and whisper. "can I try something?"

i had never been more confused in my life until I nodded and felt her hand still lingering around my hips. her fingers grazed the skin that was open in the air. she had been pretending to be focused on the music while her hands slipped down my waist and under my skirt. my breath hitched when she used just her pinky to slide my underwear to the side.

"w-what are you doing?" I questioned, trying to pretend like I didn't want this to happen.

"oh shut up I know you've wanted me too."

i couldn't form words before she dipped two fingers in my pussy. I knew that I could be more vocal since the music was loud enough to drown everyone out but I still felt the need to stay quiet. from anyone elses view, you'd think we were just holding each other or holding hands while singing. Nika quickened her pace, already making me close. it felt like a dream. and it felt like three songs had already passed but by the time it was the bridge of obsessed, I was dripping all over Nika's fingers.

"f-fuck!" I whined out, making Nika cover my mouth with her lips. she didn't stop pumping her fingers in and out of my cunt but it felt like we were only kissing. like the only thing I could feel was her lips on mine and her tongue tangled with mine.

just as I was about to finish for the second time within 1 minute and 30 seconds, Nika pulled her fingers out of me and laid them on her own tongue, sucking them clean.

part of me was in disbelief of what just happened and the other part was fully aware.

"can we continue at home?"

i nodded eagerly, still not knowing what to say to her. I could tell by the smirk on her lips and how her hands were placed on her hips that she was real fucking proud of what she just did.

the rest of the concert was a blur to me.

[gender-trash]

(i am seriously late in posting about this due to The Problems BUT whatever! its here now!!)

somewhere around late november 2022, i asked my dad "hey are there any out of print technical books you'd like a reprint of for christmas?"

he linked me to a dubious black-and-white pdf of Foundations of Mechanical Accuracy. now, i wound up checking out a copy through link+, and the original edition is a really nicely put together book! the chapters are themed around various types of measurements (length, angle, etc), and they all have these cute little diagrams which the endpapers reuse in a lil repeating pattern... the image captions are done in this really lovely dark red that did not scan for SHIT... tons and tons of diagrams and illustrations and images (both color and b&w)... just, all around, a fucking nice book!! (see also @morrak's post about it here.)

and that made me feel kind of bad about the crappiness of the pdf, which is where the Problems began. i used my phone to take pictures of all the photos and color diagrams in the original and went about replacing them in the pdf, using what turned out to be the world's worst pdf editing software (i also got through replacing all the image captions in chapter 1 of 5 before my dad convinced me to give up). i did NOT finish the pdf editing before christmas 2022 (i was going somewhat off the deep end, because both my housemates were away visiting family and i had zero external structure in my life so it was just me and my cat and this stupid FUCKING pdf wrecking my sleep schedule together); i poked away at it for most of the rest of my time off and then got so goddamn sick of it i put the project away for months. "it'll be a birthday gift instead", i said optimistically (my dad's birthday is in april! it should have been enough time!)

gentle readers, i did not finish the pdf editing by april. mostly because it was such a miserable slog that i put it off until the last possible moment and then tried to make up for it with another death march.

hating both myself and the project again, i decided i was Not going to let myself typeset Anything Else before it was done, and then took a break to bind my immortal (using the renegade publishing typeset! i didn't do any typesetting!!). SURELY, i said, i can finish this in time for christmas 2023.

i'm sure you know where this is going.

in my defense i DID finish the pdf editing by christmas, despite first doing every other possible procrastination project (including a second edition of the little second century warlord book), because by this point my dad had managed to convince me to lower my standards. on the evening of the 22nd i kicked off the print job and said to myself "this will finish printing overnight and then tomorrow i can work on sewing the textblock!"

late on the 23rd, after lots of babysitting and using at least one cartridge of every color ink in my printer, the print job was finally done. (my sweet and lovely cat wants SO BADLY to hunt and stalk the printer while it is printing -- more specifically, the printed pages, i think because they tend to make noise and move and then STOP moving. for this reason, the printer is kept in the craft room, because the cat can be shut out of the craft room and thus prevented from chewing on the pages when i have an all-day book printing job going. unfortunately the craft room was also being pressed into service as a guest room at the time so 80% of the floor space was consumed by an air mattress which i had to repeatedly trip over in order to reach the printer and replace the ink cartridges.)

then i went to my parents' house on the 24th and 25th and apologized to my dad (again) for not having the book finished. but this worked out well because we finished putting together my awesome new book clamp:

(the feet still aren't done being painted so they're just dry-fit on for now but you can still clamp books in it and that's what matters!!)

i came home, sewed the textblock (french link stitch over four linen tapes, with sewn endbands made of variegated embroidery floss over linen cord, and kozo paper glued over the spine)

... and promptly realized i SHOULD HAVE PUT IN MORE OF A GUTTER because some of the text was getting reeeeeeal close to the spine. "it's fine!" i said. "i just have to make sure it lays flat!! what better time than to try out K118 binding, a technique i have literally never done before and which people on the bookbinding discord notoriously have a hard time pulling off first try! i even have tyvek tape for it!"

so it turns out that tyvek tape isn't actually tyvek with glue on it, it's tape FOR attaching pieces of tyvek TO EACH OTHER, which maybe i could have guessed if i'd done even the slightest amount of research or planning. at this point i think it was the 27th and i was still angling to get this thing done by new year's, so no time to order Actual Tyvek.

fortunately, i had ALSO received An Package in the mail with yarn for a totally unrelated knitting project... shipped in a tyvek envelope.

i peeled all the shipping labels and stickers off my tyvek envelope, cut that shit up, and glued it on there.

and THEN it was time for gluing on covers, which i thought was going to be easy because i had actually thought ahead and ordered materials (specifically acid-free museum board), except when i cracked open the box of museum board i decided i Didn't Like It because the surface was too soft and easily dented, so i glued onto it the too-thin board material i'd previously been using (so that the cardboard goes on the outside of the book). this worked super well (the cardboard stuff has a tendency to curl up from the glue moisture, but the museum board doesn't!) and i'll probably use it on other stuff in the future.

i thought the blue bookcloth i used was kind of boring but i showed my dad the available cloth options and he really liked it, so... what do you know? i cut the piece i used on the back cover very slightly too short but it wound up being covered by the leather, so you can barely tell.

and the leather... a scrap just baaaaarely big enough from my bag of leather scraps from discount fabrics... and this the first time i'd ever attempted to put leather on a book... AND YET the only complaint i have is that i didn't manage to put an even amount on the front and back. it's reasonably square and straight!! amazing!!

i am super super happy with how this project came out (especially given the number of problems i encountered) and oh my god check out how much the spine bends

AND, AS A NEW YEAR'S PRESENT, I FINALLY MANAGED TO GIVE IT TO MY DAD

[authorhjk1]

you can't let it slide so this means... gahyeon smut coming soon?👀

Yes. Yes, it does, indeed. I hope you enjoy this one, although it's a little short.

Interlude: My crazy ex

Lee Gahyeon X Male Reader

You realize something is weird as soon as you open your eyes. Sitting comfortably in your chair, leaning back, you find yourself in your office. Frowning, you try to remember what happened.

The last memory you have is of Ahin. The two of you fell asleep together. Is this a dream?

You rub your eyes as you sit up straight. Your phone vibrates and you see that you have a message. "My crazy ex"

This is weird. You don't even have your ex girlfriend's number. Who is this?

You open the message to see what the person wrote.

"I miss you, daddy? Why did you break up with me?"

You check her profile picture to see who she is.

Something weird suddenly happens. As if your dream is over writing your memory. For some reason, you know her name. Gahyeon. Lee Gahyeon. And you start to remember more of her. That she is your ex girlfriend for example.

You shake your head, leaving her on read.

You are about to start your laptop, when you get another notification. Gahyeon send you a picture.

"I miss your cock, daddy."

You gulp as your eyes widen at her next message.

"Remember how you always fucked my face?"

Actually you do. As if someone is slowly inserting new memory into your brain. Pictures of her messed up face flash through your mind. You can see them, but you don't have any memory on how it felt.

"Last time I couldn't speak for a whole day. Your cock destroyed my throat."

The scene plays out in your brain as you keep reading Gahyeon's messages.

"I know you have a girlfriend. But I just can't help it. Day in. Day out. I keep thinking about that cock of yours."

You feel your cock getting hard at her words.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't live without your cock down my throat."

She sends another picture.

"Do you remember, when you made me cry? My makeup all messy and smeared after you pounded my mouth?"

You give in to the temptation. It's a dream after all.

"Where are you?"

The second you see that she read your text, someone knocks on the door.

"Come in."

Blonde hair greets you as you watch the woman enter your office.

"Hi, daddy!"

She gives you a bright smile.

"I knew you couldn't resist. I bet that whore doesn't suck cock like I do."

She walks over and leans over the table.

"What is this?"

You point at the glass in her hand.

"We both know what this is. You even made me drink it in public last time."

She keeps her eyes on yours as she puts the glass on the table.

Its not like Gahyeon has much convincing to do. This is a dream. And even if it weren't, Ahin would be more than happy to watch.

Getting up, you point to the granite floor. Without a word, Gahyeon gets on her knees in front of you.

"I knew it. You can't resist my mouth. It's the best flashlight for your cock, isn't it?"

You nod as you watch the blonde almost tearing your pants open.

Another piece of information flashes through your mind. Gahyeon is actually a virgin. She promised herself she would stay that way, until she gets married. Although it looks like she still enjoys getting her throat stuffed with cock.

Your pants and underwear are gone in a blink.

"That's some nice cock you have there, daddy. You know?"

She smiles up at you, before taking it in her hand.

"Can your girlfriend even take all of this?"

Gahyeon strokes you to full hardness as she keeps talking.

"I bet she can't even make it fit."

She gives your tip a kiss.

"Just like your cock is made for my throat, my throat is made for your cock. There is no way around it, daddy."

She winks at you, before taking you into her mouth.

From that moment on you realize, Gahyeon's vocabulary doesn't include the word slow. Her tongue is all over your shaft and her lips are sealed tight around your tip.

With her eyes on you, she starts moving along the length of your cock. It's like she is inhaling it. Before you can even savour the feeling of being in her mouth, Gahyeon is already two thirds down your length. Her wet cavern makes your cock warm and slick with her saliva.

Your head tilts back as she keeps going. For the blonde it's not a proper blowjob, until you are completely inside of her. Anything else is considered foreplay.

The heavy lipstick starts to smear on your cock as Gahyeon moves up and down your shaft, preparing to deep throat you. Once she does, there is no going back. Her throat is heaven on earth. No one else ever felt like this. You can already feel yourself wanting to cum.

With all of your cock inside of her, Gahyeon shakes her head, moving your cock from left to right and back. It makes you hold her head with both hands. When she feels your grip on her head, she nods, wanting you to fuck her face.

As soon as you push inside of her mouth, you realize that this will be a long dream. There is no way you are going to wake up voluntarily.

You start slow at first. Thrusting inside her mouth, feeling Gahyeon's wetness around you. Her puffy cheeks make you want to fill her mouth with cum. The sounds she is making become louder as you hold onto her head tighter.

As you keep going, more and more spit starts to build up in Gahyeon's mouth. It begins to coat your cock. Parts of it dribble out of the corners of her mouth and run down her chin. The increased sloppiness makes you want to fuck her face harder. The look in her eyes tells you to do so.

Your tip hits the back of her throat repeatedly as her face becomes a mess. Gahyeon's hands rest on your thighs as she tries not to lose balance. You feel her throat tighten with every thrust, bringing you closer towards the edge. As fast as Gahyeon starts, she ends as fast as well. There is no real point in trying to hold on.

Her gagging continues to fill the room as you use her throat like a flashlight. Her chin is now coated with her own spit. Because she is not kneeling, but squatting in front of you, her body keeps swaying back and forth due to your thrusts.

You don't stop using her pretty mouth. How could you? Her lipstick has left it's proper place completely. It's all over your shaft as you keep plowing Gahyeon's mouth. Your grip on both sides of her head becomes stronger.

"Gahyeon..."

You groan, trying to tell her you are about to cum. Her eyes light up as she carefully reaches behind her, searching for the glass on your desk.

"Fuck."

You hiss as Gahyeon's throat massages you one last time, before you regretfully have to pull out. The blonde holds the glass underneath you as you start to cum. It does feel kind of weird. As if you are donating your sperm. But you know what Gahyeon is going to do with this. So it's more than worth it.

As you feel the rush of your orgasm leaving you, you watch Gahyeon put the glass back on the table. Her eyes are fixated on your cock once more. Her lower face still messy with her saliva.

"Time for round two, daddy."

The young blonde looks like she doesn't care, if you are ready to go again or not. But the way she looks up at you makes you want to cum again. A smile flashes over her face.

"I'm going to drain you so much, daddy. You won't be able to cum all day tomorrow. I will suck all that cum out of you."

Her hand finds your cock once again. She strokes your half hardened shaft as she tries to make you hard again.

It only takes a couple of moments, until you are deep inside Gahyeon's throat once more. You feel like she can't live without your cock down her throat. Your hands have now moved from the sides of her head, to the back. Holding onto her blonde hair in a makeshift ponytail, you hold her in place as you fuck her face.

Gahyeon's eye makeup starts to become messy. She didn't put much on, but small black streaks are starting to form on her skin. They start right underneath her eyes, wander over her cheeks, until they reach her jawline. Tear after tear rolls down her pretty face as you use Gahyeon as you like.

Her face and her mouth are a match made in heaven. These tasty looking, plump lips, her puffy cheeks, her big round eyes, her blonde hair. All of it looks like she was made personally by a deity just for you. Or she might even be one.

That ridiculous thought flashes through your mind. Gahyeon's lips sealed tight around your cock as her tongue is pressed against it. She? A goddess? More like a succubus. Although you wouldn't even mind. It's not like you can stop now.

You feel your second orgasm already approaching as you fuck Gahyeon's throat mercilessly. She still doesn't tell you to stop or to go slow. It looks like she is really enjoying the rough treatment she and her throat are getting.

A small puddle of saliva has already formed on your granite floor. Her chin, your cock, her boots, everything is coated in it.

"Fuck, Gahyeon. You are the devil."

You feel her smile around your cock. She can't look up, since your grip on her hair is too tight. As her body keeps swaying back and forth, her messy ponytail sways from left to right.

When Gahyeon starts to move her tongue along the underside of your shaft, you realize it's only a matter of seconds. There is no way you can hold out longer than that.

You feel one of her elegant hands slowly caressing your balls, trying to give you that last push just a second earlier.

"Gahyeon..."

You only have to moan her name like that, Gahyeon knows what to do. Immediately, the glass is ready once more. You shoot your second load into the glass, where the first one is still waiting.

Closing your eyes, you hear Gahyeon putting the glass back down. Both of her hands are on your cock immediately. As you see stars due to how sensitive you are, you know that you will work late tonight.

"Come on, daddy. Just a little bit more."

Gahyeon takes you into her mouth again.

"Please, Gahyeon...."

After having barely survived your sixth orgasm, the blonde is already pushing you towards the seventh. The glass, which is standing on your desk is half full with your cum already.

"Give me that delicious cum of yours."

She sighs seductively, while stroking you closer and closer. By now, cuming is almost painful. You have to hold onto the desk, unable to stand probably.

Because you can't even fuck her face anymore, Gahyeon is more than happy to do all the work.

She closes her lips around your cock again, taking you into her mouth once more. Her blonde hair is sticking to her stained cheeks and forehead by now, due to her sweat and saliva. You feel like your cock is twice as heavy with all her spit on it. Long strings connect her lips with your tip whenever she leans back a little.

"One last trick, daddy."

You search in your fake memory of her, trying to find out, what it might be.

Gahyeon starts slobbering all over your cock and you can't focus on anything else. Although she is sucking you off as fast as usual, the process is starting slowly. But after a couple of moments, the first bubbles start to appear. Over time more and more form around your cock and her lips as she makes a mess of herself and your dick.

The blonde succubus in front of you makes you see stars again as she coats your cock with bubbles of her spit. More and more form around her mouth, the roll down towards her chin, until they fall to the ground. Most of them pop on your cock or in her mouth though, as Gahyeon does her best to squeeze, literally, the last drop of your cum out of you.

"Gahyeon..."

She smiles up at you as she backs away. Her lips covered in those small bubbles. Her hand strokes you as she reaches for the glass one last time.

"Fuck."

You groan as you cum for the last time today. There is not much left. Barely half of the usual amount mixes itself with the glasses contents.

"Time for the main event, daddy."

Gahyeon whispers seductively. You have to blink once or twice to recover all of your senses.

"The most delicious drink in the world."

Your cum hungry ex girlfriend puts the glass with your cum on her saliva smeared lips. She looks up at you as she tilts the glass.

When your thick cum reaches her lips, Gahyeon opens her mouth. She squinches her eyes shut as the delicious liquid enters her mouth. More and more of your warm cum floods her taste buds.

The blonde's mouth is already full and yet she barely drank even half of it. Her puffy cheeks are more than just full. She looks a like hamster.

With her eyes on you, Gahyeon takes one large gulp after the other. One, two, three gulps she needs to finally empty her mouth. The sticky seamen makes it hard for her to swallow properly.

"It tastes so delicious, daddy. Nothing tastes as good as this."

She tilts the glass once more and you are unable to do anything but watch. The last half of your cum finds its way into Gahyeon's hungry mouth. It is wide open as you see her pink tongue reach out to lick up every last remaining drop on the walls of the glass. Her mouth is full with white cum as she looks at you.

Her throat bulges as she swallows almost four loads at once.

"So yummy."

Gahyeon sighs before smacking her lips. Strings of cum connect her tongue with the roof of her mouth. Like small spiderwebs, they still fill her mouth.

"I hope we can do this every day from now on. Your girlfriend doesn't need to know, daddy. I bet she can't even swallow two loads at once."

-----------

I hope you enjoy it, the next chaper will be revieled soon. You can still vote for it.

[luvyurself]

I’m going blind, I gotta have it somehow

I listened to two asmrs of francis and now I’m dry humping the phone

c/w: she/her pronouns, doppelgänger francis, suggestive but no smut, we rocking with the copycat cause he’s rocking with us

this is based off a c.ai omfg I’m the biggest fucking gooner UGHHHHH

______

this job was more overwhelming then what she thought it would be. being a doorman seemed like easy work, checking people in and making sure they were getting to their right apartments, it definitely felt like it could be smooth sailing for a good deal of pay.

of course, it would be that way, if the city she lived in wasn’t currently facing the ever growing doppelgänger problem that would be putting its people at risk of being killed.

the d.d.d branch had ways of dealing with these copycats that included checkpoints around the city, tight knit security in public areas, and of course her job: a doorman in an apartment complex.

people always have that mentality of thinking they can easily spot a doppelgänger, and for a while she thought she could too.

she came across multiple ones that can’t get the appearance right, one of them having an extra eye on his forehead, one lady with her entire face stitched up, or some other obvious abnormality in their appearance.

those encounters made her think that this job wouldn’t be as difficult, until some of them started to really put their time into getting the appearance right.

she nearly let in one of it wasn’t for the mole that she realized wasn’t even on her face like it was in the picture. or how quickly she shut the window after hanging up the phone with the real one answering saying he was still there.

after those ones, she finally started to get the idea that this job was going to be an overwhelming nightmare.

today was one of those days with multiple close calls and three held in emotional breakdowns.

she sighed out of her nose as she let in the last tenant of the night, groaning softly as she placed her hands on her head and tiredly rested it on the desk.

she was just about ready to conk out and take a nice long sleep, moving to stretch her body to sooth it’s aching muscles from sitting down for a long period.

she felt the back of her head meet with something and froze up, letting out a short gasp before a hand covered her lips, a low shushing sound came next to her ear.

“mmm….I could say thank you for letting me in….” the voice spoke lowly, his other hand reaching to hold hers that was near the phone. he didn’t have a tight grip on it it, but the way his fingers barley rubbed her knuckles made her not even think to move.

a deep chuckle tickled her ear, “you’re one of the more…..easier doormen to convince….” he let his hand that was on her mouth drop, his thumb rubbing her bottom lip gently as he stood next to her, showing himself to her.

she felt her heart pounding against her chest, of course, of-fucking-course this doppelgänger chose to copy the milkman that lived in this apartment.

francis mosses was a man who she became very familiar with when she started here. he was always tired, spoke in a low and quiet tone, and was very very attractive.

she couldn’t help but fumble with her words like a school girl whenever she saw him. whenever he’d slide his id and entry request under and she’d shakily grab it, not daring to meet him in the eye while she compared the photos to make sure they were correct.

it was embarrassing multiple times when she’d slide his id back, only for their hands to briskly touch before she would pull away and apologize like a cliche rom-com movie. but that ghost of a smile that would grace his face would always make her want to relive it again and again.

and maybe, just maybe, she mistook the weird feeling in her gut the moment the copy cat of him walking in today was just the butterflies in her stomach from seeing him.

his hand going to run through her hair brought her back to reality, his fingers gently combing through and twirling it with his index finger.

“it’s funny how easy it was to convince you to open the door….you were practically drooling over me.” he spoke in a almost teasing tone, the hand holding hers went to squeeze it a bit more tighter.

she didn’t know how she was sitting there with her voice in her throat, but she finally felt it coming back as she let out a weak voice, “please…..please let me go…” she let her gaze look down to the hand holding hers, feeling her fingers twitch slightly.

in under different circumstances, if this were actually francis, she would definitely would be melting on the spot and be practically on her knees.

but this wasn’t francis, just a copycat looking for its next meal. she had to keep telling herself that to overcome the growing feeling of flustering and something else she will not entertain.

the doppelgänger gave her a small smile, one that looked exactly like how the real francis would, but this one had an eerie feeling to it. he cooed slightly, “aww….why would I do that?”

the fingers in her hair moved to her chin, tilting it up so she could meet his gaze, “what would you do, hmm? call the d.d.d?” he took a quick glance towards the phone, before back at her, “I could kill all these tenants in seconds before they could arrive….and you really don’t look like you can even overthrow me.”

the fake francis tilts his head, leaning closer to her, “in fact….I don’t think you would have the strength to even call them, I mean after all…” he gave a low laugh, “I practically have you melting in the palm of my hand.”

she felt her ears warm up, breathing getting shaky as she stuttered out her words, “I….I should….I….” she trailed off, the man in front of her humming, “you should, but….will you?”

god, god this affirmation wasn’t working. this doppelgänger was way too good at this. she felt like a mess for actually wanting it.

he brushed a hair away from her face, the hand trailing down to her shoulder as he leaned in closer to her ear, “you won’t tell on me….will you?~”

she swallowed sharply, her eyes squeezing shut as she embarrassingly shook her head, humming softly as she gripped her palm tightly.

the copycat smiled, his other hand resting on hers reaching to place on her thigh as he massaged it, “oh….you want me bad don’t you?~”

she let out a soft whimper, her hands reaching up for him to have a touch. a soft tut, his hand blocking hers from reaching out to him, “come on, baby….use your words.” he spoke in a sultry tone, making her melt even more into him as she mumbled out in a pathetic voice, “yes….yes I do.”

she didn’t care at this point that he wasn’t the real francis, she just craved anything that could satisfy her longing in her heart for him. and this doppelgänger was more then willing to satisfy himself and her.

francis let out a low laugh, letting go of her hands so she can finally reach out for him. he let his hand slip under her skirt, feeling himself shiver slightly at her hands going under his shirt, “oh….im going to enjoy eating you up~”

omg francis I’m coming ngh~

[pacifymebby]

Hi! i love your blog sm! i was wondering if i could request a peaky blinders preference for how they would react if they were at a party and an enemy had their s/o’s drink spiked as a way to distract them so they could attack the peaky boys? i hope this makes sense haha Tysm !

Hi lovely thank u so much for the request, i am so sorry that youve waited so long for me to finish this!!! I loved the idea and u gave me so much to work with!! I hope its everything u wanted it to be hehe.

Warnings: spiking of drinks, violence tv level) also describe the feeling of being spiked during Bonnies which could be upsetting for some.

Tommy

🌿 He'd been on edge all evening, he didn't really want to show his face tonight anyway, one of those fancy parties he knew he had to host every now and then to remain a prominent, influencial member of high society...

🌿 But these evenings are always ruined by the other guests... If he had to put a figure on it he'd say he despises about 90% of the rooms population and if it wasn't for you dancing with him and acompanying him all evening he's not sure he wouldn't have shouted that to the whole fucking room...

🌿All in all he wasn't in the mood for a party, let alone the trouble that he could sense brewing, this darkness bubbling away under the surface... He could tell something wasn't quite right, he had that warning bell ringing in his head and everyone who entered the grand ballroom, Tommy counted them, assessed them, studied them for any tells...

🌿Tommy saw exactly what they did, saw your drink get spiked... But this is Tommy Shelby we're talking about, the man never misses a trick

🌿And when he saw that young lad slip something into your drink he knew exactly what it was for... He knew that they were only trying to distract him from the bigger picture

🌿And what better way to navigate the trouble than to let them believe that they had...

🌿So he swaps your drink, accidentally knocking the spiked drink over, along with several others, smiling and laughing it off, apologising, keeps the mood light all hands in the air like "never mind eh just a few spilt drinks"

🌿Then when he rejoins you and gives you your drink he wraps his arms around you and hugs you close, rocking you side to side gently, slow dancing with you. Giving you instructions.

🌿"Need you do somet for me angel," he says, "Don't worry it won't be difficult... Need you to pass out for me yeah, just go limp in my arms as if someones put somet in your drink and its hit you all at once... Not right now yeah, just... Sip your drink - its safe I promise - just sip your drink and dance with me now eh and then, when I go over there and start talking with John, you go talk to Pol or me sister and you tell em you don't feel so good, let them take you out for some air and then you do it alright? But make sure you're somewhere safe away from all this for me... "

🌿You're a little worried, "but why Tommy whats going on?" "Never you mind about any of that eh, you just do this one thing for me eh sweetheart, I'll take care of everything else..."

🌿So you do as he tells you and you go outside with Ada and Polly doing your best to act a little faint a little frail. And to you delight you convince them so that when you pass out in Pollys arms a woman nearby screams and Ada goes running inside to tell Tommy...

🌿And as the chaos errupts and the party falls into dissaray, the fighting breaking out between the Peakys and the rival gang Tommy is safe in the knowledge that youre alright, that youre outside away from it all, safe and sound. So he can concentrate on wiping out the bastards who tried to hurt his angel, tried to use you as a cog in their nasty plan.

🌿He's so proud of you! When the fights over and he's sure there are no more threats he comes to find you, Ada has laid you down on the bench in the garden and covered you with her jacket and when Tommy sees you he smirks, chuckling softly.

🌿He gives you a little applause, "Bravo love, bravo," he says sitting down and helping you up, his proud grin painting a bright smile on your lips.

🌿Ada and Polly being confused until the penny drops and they realise that they've been dragged into one of Tommys plans. Theyre furious that he tricked them like that but Tommy isnt paying any attention to the lecture Polly is giving him. He's just looking at you.

🌿"You should be on the stage angel, when I saw you for a second there you had me worried..." "Don't be daft," you smile shyly, leaning into him as he puts his arms around you and hugs you, kissing your temple, looking out at the garden with serious eyes.

🌿"Sorry I had to drag you into all that love, won't happen again..." but you both know it probably will and he knows now that he can rely on you to be quite the little actress whenever he needs you.

🌿"Glad I've got such a clever girl eh angel..."

Alfie

🐻 Fuckin hates parties, doesnt see why it cant just be you and him having a drink ans a dance cosy at home but then again, he's old, maybe you youngens still like a party... Mind you, he remembers being young (he ain't that old!) he wasn't much for parties then either...

🐻 But he can't insult Tommy Shelby by refusing his invitation and he takes a little joy from knowing that his old pal Tommy hates parties just as much, that at least at this party he'll get to do is two favourite things: dancing with his zieskiet and seeing Tommy Shelby pissed off.

🐻 So the two of you go to the party and he tries to keep his grumbling to a minimum, charming you with all his usual tricks, dancing with you and enjoying the jealous looks from all the other men in the room. He's certain that you must be the most beautiful woman any of these men have ever set eyes on and he loves knowing that you're all his. Loves being able to show you off subtly.

🐻 He dances with you and brings you drinks, he holds your hand at every opportunity, being extra possesive over you, he doesnt leave your side all even...

🐻 So when it happens he's shocked... Because how could it have happened? How could anyone have put anything in your drink without him noticing?

🐻 He's so shocked but this is Alfie and he knows he needs to keep it together, remain calm, remain unsettlingly calm. So he turns slowly with you still in his arms and he searches the room for Tommy Shelby.

🐻 Because this is Tommys fuckin party so its Tommys fuckin fault and Alfie isn't daft, he knows that this... Whats happened to you, your limp, seemingly lifeless body, is probably only the first step in someone elses plan.

🐻The thought flickers across his mind, perhaps this is part of Tommys plans, perhaps its Tommy himself who has done this to you, betraying Alfie - it wouldn't be the first time the old friends have betrayed eachother... But no, that would be too obvious and besides... Tommy has a little class, for a "gypsy" anyway...

🐻 So instead of threatening everyone in the room instead of firing his gun, putting a bullet through someones - anyones - head you know, just to relieve his frustration, just to calm his panic... instead of losing his mind he remains calm, walks purposefully up to Tommy and starts talking over the younger man completely ignoring Tommys company.

🐻 This is tommys fuckin party so its tommys fuckin problem and Alfie has already decided that whatever happens next he won't be sticking around to help his old friend.

🐻 "Alright Tommy my old pal alright have a nice night yeah cause me and my girl are goin now... I know I know we've not exactly stayed very long but you know how I feel about these fancy do's dont you... Fuckin can't abide em yeah... And anyway as you can see... As you can see right my girls taken a turn hasn't she, had a funny turn, passed out cold in my arms just now yeah like she'd just gone and fuckin died or somet..." he's getting theatrical now, those who were with Tommy are watching Alfie fearfully, they've heard about him, they know he can turn at any second and he sure as hell looks like he might be about to snap now.

🐻 "We were just dancing together just now, over there yeah by that big fuckin ugly tree someone seems to have just fuckin dragged in out the garden? What is that anyway a fuckin big ugly tree? You wanna fire whoever put that ugly thing there..."

🐻 Tommy is looking at Alfie and looking at you, putting the pieces together, trying to think quicker than Alfie is talking but its always difficult to stay one step ahead of Solomons when he starts on these rants.

🐻 "Anyway I digress I digress, fuckin ugly plant or not, it would appear that somehow, in your fine home... Yeah and that words important right cause as the man of my own house myself yeah, I like to keep my home nice and safe eh, a fortress if you will... Anyway, me and my girl we were just fuckin dancin right, she was just fuckin dancing, having a nice fuckin evenin and then, poof..." he lets his voice soften, making a little gesture with his fingers like hes snuffing out a candle, "its like she's fuckin died or something aint it... Look at her yeah, don't you agree... Fuckin lifeless mate thats what she is..."

🐻 "Alfie whatevers happened I promise you we'll..."

🐻 "Fuckin fix it? That what you're gonna do yeah?" Alfie cutting him off, trying not to lose his temper, nows not the time to start a fight, nows the time to get you home safe and sound.

🐻 "Well, you can enjoy the rest of your evening eh, gather all your gypsy boys up yeah, put your little thinkin caps on eh and fuckin fix whatever shit you've gotten yourself caught up in this time... But me an my girl yeah, we're going home now alright mate, cause I reckon when she wakes up yeah shes gonna have a pretty nasty headache, and the last thing I'd want for her now is for her to have to come round to the sight of your fuckin crooked mug... Mate."

🐻 Alfie would be suspicious of everyone, even Tommy who he has mostly ruled out.

🐻 As he's carrying you out to the car, calling for Ollie to bring the motor round, its Alfie who starts the fight, firing his gun once into the crowd, wounding one of tommys men with a bullet in the foot. He chuckles as he hears the cry of pain, hears the victim fall to the floor just as heavily as you had fallen.

🐻 His real priority however is you, now that he's let tommy shelby know theres bad blood between them, now that hes started a fight and left the party tumbling into chaos, all out warfare, all Alfie cares about is getting you home.

🐻 He sits in the back of the car with you cradled to his chest, bundled up in his arms like a baby. He'd be talking to you soothingly, stroking your hair, not sure whether you can hear him or not. Wanting to make sure that whatevers happening to you you know your alfies with you, you know not to be scared.

🐻Grumbling and snapping at poor Ollie because hes driving too slowly and then because hes driving too dangerously and you're getting jostled about in the back.

🐻 He doesnt trust hospitals and doctors but he begrudgingly takes you into one and sits with you all night, getting snappy and snippy with the doctors who he doesnt think are doing enough.

🐻 He is so relieved when you finally come round the next morning, he's not slept, not eaten, hes just sat holding you, even when his sciatica was playing up and he was in pain from sitting holding you like that for too long.

🐻 He is nothing but soft and tender with you all day, runs you a bath to help sooth your aching muscles, fussing over you and grumbling at anyone who dares disturb the two of you. Poor Ollie gets an earful when he tries to inform Alfie that Tommy Shelby phoned.

🐻 He feels so guilty that this happened to you on his watch, he doesnt say it to you outright, that he blames himself, but he does make you promises over and over again that when he finds out what happened, who did that to you, he'll be paying them a visit...

🐻 He was really scared for you, really scared that he was going to lose you, really scared that you might not wake up, that he might not get to dance with you or kiss you or see your pretty eyes awake and alive ever again and so for that reason he stays close to you for some time after that night, always holding you, always touching you. He kisses you every chance he gets. Even wants you to come into his office with him so that he can keep you close, sitting in his lap whilst he works.

🐻 "Next time Tommy Shelby invites us to one of his fancy little parties zieskiet, next time he sends us one of those fuckin little invites... Lets not bother yeah, lets stay home just me and you, can do all the dancin we like right here yeah poppet, can have all the fun we like right fuckin here yeah..."

Arthur

🍂 You and Arthur always go too far at these parties his brother hosts. Tommys out there trying to make contacts, trying to lobby and charm politicians and the nations elite, meanwhile you and Arthur are racing one another to the bottom of a bottle of whiskey you've nicked from the kitchens, getting silly and letting your hair down...

🍂 And you're already drunk, both of you are really really drunk!

🍂 So when you start acting like you've overstepped that hard to predict line into "one too many" territory, Arthur assumes that thats all it is. You've had one too many, surpassed your limit and now you're struggling to stand up or walk, leaning on him for balance.

🍂 When you tell him you feel a little sick he chuckles and teases you all, "Aye my love I'm not fuckin surprised eh, when you gonna learn eh sweetheart, you can't keep up with us big boys..."

🍂 But when you collapse in his arms he freezes. The smile wiped clean off his face because suddenly he understands whats happened. You aren't just a little drunk. Something far more sinister has happened.

🍂 And of course he's terrified, pretty much convinced that youre already dead... Your body is so limp, lifeless, your head fallen back, youe eyes closed. You look so fragile, so delicate, like a feather and yet suddenly he can feel the weight of your whole body and you feel so, so real, so heavy...

🍂 He's fucking terrified.

🍂But Arthur Shelby doesn't do "terrified" he has one emotional switch and thats rage. If hes heartbroken he gets angry, if he's bitter he gets angry, if hes scared, well, he gets fucking angry and thats what happens next.

🍂 He fires his gun up at the cieling, the bullet shattering the glass in the chandelier above you so that shards rain down on the now petrified crowd. The party disintergratea, the atmosphere shattered as the band stops playing and, beyond the crying of a terrified bystander, the scuffle of panicked men, the room falls silent, all eyes on him.

🍂 He's livid, his mind already hazing with rage so that he can barely think, he's breathing heavily, shallow ragged breaths.

🍂 "Right!" he shouts into the crowd, "One of yous has fuckin hurt my fuckin wife and no one leaves this fuckin room until I find out which fucker done it... By order of the peaky fuckin blinders!"

🍂 And of course, no one argues with him.

🍂 Tommy pushes his way through the crowd to his brother, tries to reason with him, one hand on Arthurs shoulder as he tells him whats happening, explains the situation...

🍂 "You need to let her go brother, give her to Polly eh, go on brother, let Polly take her now..." Tommys trying to reason with him but Arthur doesnt want to let you go. The only reason he gives in in the end is because Tommy tells him he knows whos responsible for whats happened.

🍂 When Tommy points out the men who have spiked your drink Arthur doesnt question him, doesn't ask how he knows, instead he loses the last of his control, instead he startes trembling with the adrenaline rush, the rage, the hatred burning in his veins, his mind white and blank, tunnel visioning towards destruction.

🍂 He goes feral, launching himself at the men who are responsible, horror movie scenes ensuing as Tommy and the Peakys all go to battle, cutting men left right and center. Arthur is the most blood thirsty however, driven by the image of your lifeless body, driven by the terror he feels in his tight chest every time he pictures your lifeless expression.

🍂 He can't be stopped and he beats and cuts those men until they're unrecognisable. He has to be dragged back from the smashes in head of one of them, covered in their blood and his.

🍂 He can't calm down, he's practically rabid with his own violence, his eyes dark and changed by his anger.

🍂 But when you come round hours later, when you enter the ballroom where Arthur is still smashing things, still throwing furniture and breaking glasses, doing himself damage, when you call out to him he hears you and he turns to look at you. All the energy draining from him, all the adrenaline leaving him panting and exhausted, just gazing at you in disbelief.

🍂 And then hes just a shameful guilty stream of apologies, hes sorry he let it happen to you, hes sorry you have to see him like that, hes sorry he's too bloody and disgusting to hold you, he's sorry hes ruined your beautiful dress, he's sorry he went too far again, hes sorry he wasn't there when you woke up, he's sorry he couldn't be more help...

🍂 The only way you can cut him off is with your hand over his mouth, looking deep into his eyes, combing your fingers through his hair and his beard and pressing your lips to his cheeks, to his forehead and nose and jaw and anywhere else you possibly can.

🍂 "S'alright Arthur m'love im alright I'm here and its all alright and you fuckin got em didn't you, fuckin saved me didnt you, love you so much Arthur, don't apologise for anything please love, I'm so grateful I'm your girl..." you whispering all these sweet things to him until he's sure he's going to cry, your eyes and his eyes watering.

🍂 You cleaning him up afterwards and then climbing into the bath with him. Probably fucking in the water nice and slow and gentle to use up the last of his adrenaline and sooth him the best way you know how...

John

🌼 Similar to Arthur, John just thinks you can't hold your drink. You're so much smaller than him but you always forget that when you're drinking, you've been on the gin with Pol and Ada and you haven't exactly been taking your time....

🌼 He thinks you're so funny when you're drunk, thinks youre so cute too, the way you lose yourself half way through a sentence trailing off sleepily. The way you have to lean on him, wrapping your arms around his waist and closing your eyes as if you're about to fall asleep against him.

🌼 And when you do fall asleep against him he just chuckles, "whatre y'like eh flower," he says shaking his head and kissing your cheek as he lifts you up and carries you to the edge of the dancefloor, making a bed for you out of dinner chairs, lining them up in a row and laying you down on them with the little ones who have already gone to sleep on similar makeshift beds.

🌼 He shrugs his jacket off and uses it as a cover for you draping it over your shoulders carefully, crouching down and kissing your cheek, taking a moment to admire your peaceful features. You're so pretty, he's so lucky... All the while never noticing that somethings wrong. Never noticing anything at all until its too late.

🌼 The men who spiked your drink had been expecting some kind of reaction, a ruckus of sorts, a ripple of panic which would start with you and spread through the party like a wave...

🌼 But nothing happens and they're left confused and growing ever more tense waiting to pull their move, knowing that their window of opportunity is running out fast

🌼 And in the end they have to abandon their plan because all is calm and everyone js still having a good night. John is laughing with his brothers and you, well, you appear to be sleeping peacefully with the children...

🌼 So they have to start a new commotion, one of the men taking out a knife and threatening some random politicians wife so that one by one the peaky men are dragged into a fight.

🌼 John doesn't make any connections between the commotion and whats happened to you, as far as he's concerned youre still sleeping... That is until he grabs one of these trouble makers by the collar of his shirt and the cheeky fucker licks his teeth in a grin.

🌼 "Wheres your girlfriend Shelby? Hope shes alright, would be a shame if something were to..." and just like that the penny drops and although john had only intended to wound the stupid bastard, when he realises what the man is alluding to he shoves him up against the wall and pulls his gun on him, shooting the nasty git right between the eyes.

🌼 He's feeling murderous then, no longer enjoying the fight as a bit of friendly sport. But before he can take revenge he rushes to find Pol and instructs her to take care of you, to get you to a doctor as quickly as she can.

🌼 He's worried about you, obviously, but he's also really beating himself up for being so stupid as to not realise that there was anything wrong with you. He takes that frustration out in the fight however, channeling all his anger and fear and upset into beating the living daylights out of his enemies.

🌼 He's anxious to get to you however and the moment he scans the room and sees that his brothers and the lads have everything under control he leaves to find Polly, to find you.

🌼 He irritates the hell out of Ada and Polly who are trying to attend to you whilst they wait for the doctor, because Johns not the most delicate or precise at the best of times and when hes all worked up and in a bit of a state hes even worse. He just keeps gettinf in the way, he wants to help but somehow everything he does actually makes it worse.

🌼 "For christ sakes John sit down!" Polly losing her temper with him when the doctor does finally arrive and he carries on getting in the way.

🌼 But John will not be reassured and he will not listen to the doctor or believe them when they try to tell him that you're going to be okay.

🌼 He gets annoyed when the doctor tries to leave. "Where the bloody hell dya think youre going shes still out cold!" "Mr Shelby please, she's only sleeping, she's going to be completely fine... Theres nothing more I can do for either of you but you have my assurances that..."

🌼 "I don't want your assurances doc, I want you to fuckin do something!"

🌼 Ada having to intervene and drag him away, telling him that if he really wants to help he should stay with you, maybe talk to you or something so that you know hes there with you... Shes despairing with him if shes being honest...

🌼 But John finally lets the doctor leave and he sits down with you, holding your hand, stroking your hair out your face and talking to you, trying his best to calm down and talk calmly and reassuringly to you.

🌼 Worlds wobbliest restless knees award goes to...

🌼 He's a worrier at heart, even if he usually seems so laid back and when you do come round he doesnt stop fussing or being anxious, in fact Ada tells you she actually believes he's gotten worse... If thats at all possible.

🌼 He absolutely dotes on you. He doesnt want to leave your side but he doesnt want you to go without and he doesnt trust anyone else to get your drinks or to bring you food so hes constantly torn between going to get you food or staying by your side.

🌼 Isn't affraid to admit how scared of losing you he was, tells you multiple times. Keeps taking your hand in his and just holding onto you clasping your fingers tightly. He doesnt want to let you out of his sight.

🌼 Overly doting actually to a point where you think you might go insane. "John love, sweetheart please calm down, I'm fine I'm fine I promise... I can hold my cup myself see, I'm alright really love... Are you sure you're alright you're exhausting yourself..."

🌼 But he won't let you worry about him and he forces himself to tone his anxiety down because he doesn't want you to worry about him.

🌼 Again, can't get over how fucking stupid he feels, he can't believe he thought you were just drunk. He can't believe he just left you in the corner with the kids. He has such a huge crisis of confidence about his abilities as a husband/father. You needed him and he didn't even fucking notice.

🌼 He's petrified it could happen again and he does a lot of growing up. You tease him that hes growing too serious in his old age and although sometimes he laughs and jokes along, sometimes he gets this dark guilty look in his eyes and he reminds you of what happened, what could have happened. Tells you again that he isn't gonna let you down like that again...

🌼 Obviously wont listen to you when you try to tell him he didn't and could never let you down.

Bonnie

🍀 If he was being honest, for all that he'd told Tommy Shelby he wanted fame and fortune, didn't want to be a traveller anymore with fucking nothing to his name, seeing how Tommy lived whenever he visited the Shelby manor, made him question whether he really wanted all those things afterall. There was something about that manor that made Bonnie uncomfortable, perhaps it was simply that wherever the Shelbys were involved there was trouble.

🍀 And that was why he had had mixed feelings about bringing you to this party...

🍀Thered been so many reasons he'd wajted to... Naturally... He'd been excited to show off his girl, to have all the other Peaky Boys see you in all your beauty, for them to see that the shy and somewhat reserved Bonnie Gold, could do just as well as them when it came to women...

🍀And he'd wanted to show off to you too, show you how different the Shelby family seemed to live. The wealth that Bonnie was being introduced to. He wanted to show you it all so he could show you all the things he was going to work to win for you with his boxing.

🍀And he wanted to treat you. In comparison to the other Peaky lads like Isaiah and Michael and Finn, Bonnie led a far more simple life. The other boys were always taking their girls out to fancy parties, clubs and restaurants but you and Bonnie didn't live that kind of life...

🍀So when Tommy told him to bring a girl if he liked, Bonnie knew he would be taking you...

🍀Even if he was a little apprehensive to let you so close to the darker half of his life which so often put him in danger and could put you in harms way too if he wasn't careful..

🍀But it was worth his nerves to see you smiling the way that you were now, dancing with him, drinking and laughing with Isaiahs girlfriend and Michaels too. You looked so happy, so beautiful under the twinkling candle glow which lit the ballroom. And he was happy that you were happy. He was proud that everyone could see how you shone like a little star in that room. How you fitted in perfectly...

🍀But neither of you saw that stranger slip something into your drink. A drink that had been intended for Ada Shelby who had been talking to you by the bar, your glasses side by side on the polished marble top.

🍀 At first you just felt a little odd, a little dizzy as though you'd done ten shots of gin without realising it and they were all hitting you at once and when you found Bonnie and told him you felt strange he smiled at you and teased you telling you you'd had one too many trying to keep up with "us big lads"

🍀 He tucks you under his arm and leads you out to the terrace for some air, kisses your cheek and scrapes your long hair back from your face and neck so that the cool night air might dust you and ease your dizziness.

🍀You make the mistake of asking for some water and Bonnie makes the mistake of leaving you alone outside to go and get you some.

🍀And by the time either of you realised whats really happening its too late. Your little world is blurring and spinning and you feel suddenly so unbelievably sick.

🍀So you stand up quickly, too quickly, desperate to get back to Bonnie because you have that worrisome feeling in your stomach, that instinct telling you that something is really wrong.

🍀And you bump into a stranger who holds onto your arm for a moment too long, making you feel even more like you might be in serious trouble.

🍀You call out for Bonnie, your voice much quieter, your words more slurred than you expect them to be. And of course when Bonnie hears you he recognises that something isn't right because you sound so distance. Suddenly he feels very far away from you...

🍀When he turns and sees you he drops the glass of water, not even noticing it shatter on the floor causing a stir. He rushes to you concern lacing his brows together, his young face grey with worry when he recognises all the tell tale signs of something he'd hoped would never happen to you...

🍀 You open your mouth to call out to him but as you do you falter, stumbling forward. You're lucky your boy is a boxer, agile and quick on his feet, because he manages to catch you just before your vision fails and your body falls limp everything feeling heavier and heavier until finally you find yourself completely lost under a thick hazy quilt.

🍀 You can feel that sensation of impending doom grip you then, the fear building inside you, your heart racing as you struggle against the lethargy and confusion which is dragging you down into the dark. You want to cry, want to cry out for your Bonnie to help you but you can't even move let alone speak.

🍀Bonnie is shaking, looking down at you where you lie limp in his arms, your body slumped against his. You look so pale, so washed out. You feel cold too. Its as if you're dead but he knows youre not. He knows exactly whats happened to you because he's heard stories from Isaiah about some of the shit that goes on in the city these days. Girls getting attacked by sleazy gits. Ones who can't charm women (or perhaps dont even want to) so they use drugs to make them vulnerable, to make them easy targets.

🍀He's livid. Pale with anger. His heart beating fast because he knows how dangerous these kinds of poisons can be. How much damage they can do. He's scared for you but he's fucking livid too. Who the fucks Tommy Shelby inviting into his home these days... How the fucks a gang leader as infamous as Tommy Shelby cutting about letting young girls get spiked under his watch.

🍀He kisses your forehead, whispering to you that you'll be alright, saying a little prayer, a hail mary for you, hoping you can hear him. Hoping that it'll bring you comfort wherever you are just then.

🍀And then he surprises not only himself but everyone else in the room, all the other young peaky lads watching him astounded.

🍀Because he walks straight back into the ballroom, still holding you in his arms, bundled up against his chest, the most precious cargo hes ever had to carry. He kisses you on the forehead again and he says another little prayer for you, and then he carries you right up to Tommy Shelby himself, Bonnies eyes full of a cold determination, his anger apparent in the grinding of his jaw, the complete disgust with which he looks at Tommy.

🍀 It must be the adrenaline shooting through him, it must be the funny way emotions like fear and heartbreak show themselves when youre young and impulsive, but god knows where the confidence to do what he does next comes from...

🍀"You need to sort your fuckin men out Thomas Shelby, I dont know what the fuck kind of lowlife bastards you associate with..." 🍀his dad tries to cut in and apologise to Tommy on Bonnies behalf but when he sees you he frowns too and steps back wincing when his son carries on.

🍀 "You need to be a bit more fuckin careful about who you call your fuckin friends Tommy, cause when I find the sick cunt who's spiked my lass am gonna slit his fuckin throat from ear to fuckin ear..."

🍀 "And you say we're the fuckin savages..." he spits on the ground at Tommys feet but he doesn't wait to hear the older mans response.

🍀Instead he leaves with you immediately, doesnt stay to realise the true extent of the drama which kicks off after he leaves and even when he hears about what went down in the end he doesnt care. All that matters to him is you. When he's leaving with you all he's thinking about is how he's going ti get you home safe, how he's going to take care of you...

🍀All in all the attackers are going ro regret their mistake because had they hit Ada there might have been a bigger fight kicked off, her brothers picking any poor sod in the crowd of guests to fight with. But because they hit you its all over much quicker. Bonnie doesnt let you become a distraction, he really does just carry you all the way home where he can keep you safe, watch you through your unconsciousness and make sure youre alright.

🍀He spends all night sitting up with you, talking to you quietly, kissing your hair, cradling you to his chest, worrying about you. Saying those little prayers for you hoping that you can hear him or at least feel his presence. Hoping that you can feel his love for you, hoping you know that hes got you, that youre safe.

🍀 "S'alright little dove s'alright my girl ive got you you're safe sweetpea, won't let anything happen to you lovely..."

🍀When tou come round you wake in his lap, his hand in your hair, one hand on your wrist as he counts your pulse. He's so worried about you, the longer you've been out for the more stressed hes become. His dad came home not long after he did, Aberama had had to stick around and help when the fight had broken out, he'd also had to try and save face on behalf of his son and his short temper...

🍀 "My my bonnie that was quite the performance..." "I'm not gonna apologise so don't even try it..." Bonnies still absolutely seething and will be for some time, he's angry that Tommy would let those kinds of men into his house and he can't be reasoned with. He's definitely going to hold a grudge.

🍀But when you come round properly he drops his temper and shows you only gentleness ans care, ever so sweet as he dotes on you. Doesn't try to hide his relief, doesn't try to play it cool. Tells you how worried he was, how scared he was he might lose you...

🍀He asks you how you're feeling, tells you not to lie to him or play it down. "What do you need little dove, anythin at all yeah you tell me, gonna look after you i promise..." but you don't really need him to promise you that because you know it already.

🍀In the end you have to try and talk sense to him about the whole Tommy issue, you remind him what hes working towards, "Don't throw all that away over some stupid accident Bon, you're gonna be a star remember, gonna be my champion..."

🍀"Come in Bon, forgive and forget, what is it they say... Bury the hatchet..." "Aye I'll bury it alright... In the back of his fuckin head!" "Bonnie i mean it! Please!" and eventually he has to give in and take you seriously but not without that boyish smile, not without joking about his grudge from time to time and not without making it very clear that he isn't going to apologise for what he said that night, or for leaving before he could help thwm fight. "Alright, alright sweetpea, no bad blood i promise alright if thats what you want I'll forgive him... But am not apologisin to him... I did exactly what any good lad would do eh, got to look after my girl, gotta protect her first, shes the most important thing in the whole wide world..."

🍀He does feel like he should have done more, he regrets not realising sooner, regrets even taking you to the stupid party in th3 first place. From then on he's far more protective over you, hyper alert whenever hes out with you, doesn't ever let your drinks out of his sight, doesnt ever let anyone else buy you a drink. Doesnt ever leave you on your own, not even to get you a water when you really have had one too many. Certain he wont let anything like that happen to you ever again.

Isaiah

🐀 Similiar to John, Isaiah doesn't realise somethings wrong until its really really wrong and the fights already kicked off.

🐀The two of you would have been trying to outdrink one another all night. This was one of Tommys parties, one for all his legal business contacts and endeavors and Isaiah wasnt exactly expecting to be pulling his gun on anyone or getting into any serious scraps.

🐀However when a fight does break out, when some uninvited guests turn on Arthur and pull a knife, Isaiah's first thought is of vulnerable drunk you somewhere on your own in the party, perhaps off with Ada in the bathroom or with Lizzie at the bar.

🐀He only realises the depths of the danger you're in when he shoves a half concious thug to the floor and out of his way, pausing amid the choas to look for you, to see whether you've returned from the bathroom. But instead he sees Ada, sees her with tears in her eyes, her face white as a sheet. She looks terrified and although there could be any number of reasons the Shelby sister looks so scared Isaiah knows in his gut that shes crying because of you. Somethings happened to you.

🐀"Ada what is it whats wring where the fucks y/n..." and when Ada shakes her head and bursts into tears he fears the worst. Thinks something fucking awful has happened to you.

🐀He has this moment of hesitation, torn because the fights still raging and he knows the peakys need him to stay and fight. But he's terrified, so scared that you might be lying on the floor somewhere wounded or worse, dying, without him...

🐀"Ada tell me what the fucks happened," he snaps because hes panicking. Later he'll feel guilty for scaring the young lass but just then shes the least of his worries. He can think only of you. Total tunnel vision panic. When Ada manages to tell him whats happened she starts crying harder and Isaiah feels his blood run cold. He wants to run to you but he knows there's nothing he can do fir you, knows the only way he can keep you safe now is if he makes sure not a single one of these intruders gets out alive.... So he tells Ada to go find Polly, tells her to make sure she geta you help tells her to keep the both of you safe.

🐀He's in a blind panic, his adrenaline rushing him making it hard ti focus, hard to think and all he can do is launch himself at an attacker and take all his anger and fear out on them.

🐀Knowing that one of these men has hurt you motivates him and unlocks something plain sadistic inside him, he doesnt stop fighting until hes sure theyre all dead and even then with some of them he goes overboard, cutting people who are already dead/as good as dead. Kicking at their limp bodies until their blood stains his shoes and the walls, until its splattered over his body and the other bodies which now little the floor.

🐀John has to drag him away from the body of a man who's barely recognisable anymore reminding him of you, reminding him that you need him, "Come on Saiah, enough... She'll be coming round soon and when she does she's gonna need her man eh? You gotta be there for her mate, you've got to calm the fuck down, clean yourself up... Last thing she wants see is you covered in all this blood..."

🐀Then all the fight leaves him, hes stressed, can't control his ragged breathing, can't control his shaking. Suddenly he doesnt know what to do with all that fear and upset and for a minute he's scared he's going to cry in front of everyone. Isaiah definitely puts a lot of pressure on himself to be as tough as Tommy and the older Peaky men and the fact that his response when his girl is unconcious is to cry rather than rush to protect her makes him feel sick and a little disgusted with himself. Which obviously translates to more anger...

🐀So his temper flares and he can't calm down and even when Pol tells him to breath, to relax because youre going to be fine, Isaiah cant and doesn't accept that. He just gets pissed off that anything bads happened to you at all. And when he snaps at Polly all "Don't tell me to fucking calm down woman! Thats my fuckin girl there, fuckin out cold don't tell me to be fuckin cold!" he gets a hard slap off the woman in question. "Watch who you're callin woman peaky boy or it'll be you on the fuckin floor alright..."

🐀Only then does he come to his senses, suddenly apologetic and a little more meek. A little humbled by that stark slap to the face. It was what he needed in the end to calm him, to remind him who needed him and who he needed to be in that moment.

🐀And then Lizzie and Ada start wishing they could give him a slap too because he's fussing around you and getting in the way and he isn't helping at all...

🐀"Sit down for fuck sake Isaiah, fussin like that ain't gonna help her..." Ada trying to shoo him away, Isaiah straight up ignoring her and hovering around you anyway.

🐀Will be there when you wake up, will say sorry a million times, will not be able to handle the guilt. Makes a lot of very murderous promises. But youre actually kind of fine, just tired and achey, all you really want is for him to lie diwn with you and hold you whilst you rest.

🐀"saiah please," you yawn making grabby hands at him, lethargic and sleepy with little tears in your eyes, "just want a cuddle, come here calm down be alright just want... Cuddle..." him chuckling at you, a smile painted on his lips by your sweetness despite the stress he still feels.

🐀When he climbs into bed with you and holds you in his arks you hold onto him too, you can feel the adrenaline still pumping through his body, can feel his fast heartbeat and the way hes trembling. Youre not so naive as to point it out or ask him about it, instead you kiss his chest and nuzzle into his hold and you thank him for saving you and for being there when you woke up.

🐀Youre a sweet sight to behold and Isaiah is overcome with relief, a rush of emotion hitting him as he realises just how seriously he feels for you, how much you really mean to you. He loves you so dearly and as you're lying there held close to his chest he really realises for the first time that if anything were to happen to you he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

🐀So he makes a silent vow to you and himself that from then on hes going to be your protector, hes going to be there whenever you need him. That hes never going to let you get hurt again, never going to put you in harms way. He stops messing around so much, stops getting as drunk as he used to, really grows up and starts viewing everything to do with the peakys as serious, as a potential threat to you.

🐀Later you ask him to tell you exactly what he did to the bastards that gave you such a sore head and he lights up telling you about it, very satisfied to remember that he made sure they got what they deserved. And you're kind of delighted to hear it too, the kind of story that just make your stomach turn, your body cringe in empathy when he describes the injuries those gits suffered... Instead it makes you feel safe and secure knowing that you have a man who would do literally anything to protect you.

Michael

☘️ He's always enjoyed these parties, theyre so wildly different from anything he ever knew when he was living in the countryside... They make him feel like a real man, like an adult... They're so far from anything he ever expected for himself growing up

☘️And its even better now he has you to spend the evening with, to have on his arm looking beautiful, the most desirable woman in the room. He loves the feeling of entering a room and feeling jealous eyes on him, or shocked eyes. Women who look at him and see his girl and know they don't stand a chance. Me who instinctively drop the hand of their girlfriend when they see you. Michael loves to see it, the attention the two of your draw, the power you have over a room without even having to try.

☘️But that night he finally sees the flipside, the dark threat which looms like a shadow, which follows the shelby men and their partners wherever they go. The truth of the matter is that wherever you go, no matter who you're with, no matter what who is there to protect you, there always a chance that someone out there, someone nearby wants to harm you.

☘️ And tonight it so happens that that is the case. That someone in that crowd of giddy tipsy party goers, has their eyes on you, has foul plans for you...

☘️When it happens, when the 'poison' hits you don't really know whats happening but Michael does. He recognises the signs imediately, the way your eyes cloud with fear and confusion, the way your lips tremble and slope downwards as if you were suffering some kind of turn. He realises that somethings wrong but he doesn't know what to do and when you fall limp into his side, your body heavy against his, the poor lad panics. He freezes.

☘️And this panic is something he will never be able to forgive himself for. Something he'll curse himself for everyday for the rest of his life.

☘️But thats what he does. He panics. He freezes just clutching your lifeless body to himself, staggering back a pace or two, feeling like he might be about to collapse too.

☘️Honestly he thinks you're dead or dying, he thinks he's already lost you, that theres nothing to be done and when he drops to his knees holding onto your body like his life depends on it, he doesnt realise he's shouting for his mother until she rushes to him in a panic herself.

☘️ "Mum!" its that shout that stops the party, but its his next words, words which fall on a hushed and confused low murmuring crowd, "I think shes fuckin dead mum i think shes fuckin..." which cause the evenings downfall.

☘️In that sudden silence a scream is heard somewhere else in the house. It shatters the concerned murmur hum of whispers from onlookers and suddenly sobering perty guests, the scream ricochetting around the ballroom. Honestly Michael hardly hears it over the thrum of his petrofied heart beating in his ears.

☘️Tommy and the other peaky men all rush to find the source of the scream and when Michael doesnt move tommy stops and yells for him...

☘️ "Leave her Michael come on get up, fuckin get up!" he shouts to his younger cousin, no heart for you the girl passed out in Michaels lap, no consideration for Michaels world which is shattering around him in pieces on the ballroom floor. "Fuck sake Michael fuckin move!" he yells his voice carrying across the room, other guests watching in fear when still Michael doesnt move, still clutching onto you, still mumbling to his mum in a blind panic that he thinks youre fuckin dead...

☘️He's so torn because he knows he can't stand up to Tommy, he can't shout at him or put up a fight - even though all he wants to do is tell his older cousin to get fucked - but he also can't stand the thought of leaving you. Can't bare to hand you over to his mother when he really believes that if he does he'll never get to hold you again.

☘️He's so scared and he just sits there on the floor, on his knees, still holding you, your head hanging lip, your eyes shut, your body so unbearably still. He just sits there distraught looking between you and Tommy until tommys temper flares. "fuckin move michael..."

☘️ "Go on love go with your cousin," Pol tells him, "you go and you fuckin kill em for this eh, fuckin kill em... Ive got her, she'll be alright i promise you Michael, you fuckin kill em alright?"

☘️So he pulls himself together, stands up shaking, fighting back tears, a looming sense of dread and devotion, a doomed feeling taking hold of him from the inside as he follows Tommy through the house to the fight which has broken out, which is raging on.

☘️ But he's distracted fighting because you're all he can think about. He's so worried about you and it means he misses a couple of tricks, taking more of a beating than he should have done. Getting cut by a blade, getting a kicking that leaves him feeling weak and full if self loathing. He feels humiliated, even after the fight when he's had his fair share of little victories. Even when hes headbutted another lad out cold and sent his unconcious body staggering back and falling with a thud to the dining room floor. Even when hes plunged a kitchen knife into the back of another.

☘️By the time the fights over he's bruised and bloody and he looks worse than you. Hes in a foul mood, his temper thin and stretched tight because he feels that shame looming over him.

☘️He's genuinely humilated by everything, the fact that he let that happen to you, the fact that he was so scared, the fact that he didnt put up a good fight, that he's ended up battered and looking like a man who can't defend himself or his woman. A man who is only really half a man. He feels pathetic.

☘️ And that gives him a foul temper which he almost takes out on you. Earns himself a slap from his mother who tells him not to be so fucking childish, "Wipe that fuckin sullen look of your face Michael you stupid stupid boy... Y/N fuckin needs you so stop your sulking and step up for her!" "She needs you Michael, more than your fuckin ego needs you now get in there and promise you'll never let anything like that happen to her again..."

☘️And that's exactly what he does. When he returns to you he sees the little tears in your eyes and when you try to apologise to him all, "Michael I'm so sorry, I should have been paying more attention, I should have been more careful... Oh god look at you you poor thing I can't believe it this is all my fault.." he holds his finger to your lips and hushes you. "Stop that eh love, be quiet none of this is your fault... None of this alright... Don't you dare say sorry again sweetheart..."

☘️ He holds your face in both his hands and puts his forehead against yours, closes his eyes and lets out a sigh of relief. Sheds a tear that trickles down his cheek. You're alive and thats all that matters, you're alive and he's so relieved. He hasn't lost you, you're still here. That means he has a chance to make this right. That means he can do things right from now on, be the man you need him to be.

☘️ Thought I was gonna fuckin lose you angel, thought you were gonna fuckin die... But here you are, you're alright now and I'm never gonna let anything happen to you ever again, gonna keep you safe now and always yeah?"

☘️When you ask if he's crying he denies it, then he makes you swear on his life you'll never tell a soul, and that you'll never ask if he's crying ever again. You kiss his cheek where the tear is and smile whispering that you promise. That you love him. That its going to take more than a little drink to drag you away from him.

☘️ He's far more wary around you, who you talk to, where you go, far more protective. And he starts working out more, starts going to the boxing ring with Isaiah and Finn, and when he fights he tries to tap into that panic he felt, pictures your lifeless body and channels all his emotions into every punch, the adrenaline making him ten times a better fighter.

☘️ Loves to hear you tell him how strong he's getting, loves when you run your hands over his arms to feel his muscles and say things like "How could I ever feel in danger when I've got you protecting me?"

[keravnous]

treat me like a s!ut ; tangerine x fem!reader (smut, 18+)

read pt. 1 here | read pt. 2 here | read pt. 4 here

Tangerine comes home to you scrubbing the blood out of one of his button-downs in the bathtub. He always had a thing for seeing his favourite plaything on its knees.

word count: 9,5 k

warnings: spanking, fingering, oral (male receiving), cumshot, toys, bimbofication, housewife kink (that a thing??), mean/strict dom!tangerine (but he's actually a big softie), negotiated objectification, uh face slapping - once or twice, daddy kink, pet names, spit kink, size kink, name calling, multiple orgasms, edging, (heavy) squirting; this man is into some nasty shit - convince me otherwise, my feminism left my fucking body alright, the angry man™ makes my knees go weak

i listened to kim petras' slut pop ep and listen, it-, I-, so -, yeah. Lost control, I guess. I also saw the pictures of atj in a million little pieces and that didnt help much

thank you mel for encouraging me and thank you v for enduring me while writing this

You barely hear the door of the town house falling shut over the splashing of the water.

You are currently kneeling - very much to the protest of your upper back, which has been causing all sorts of pain during work at the office today - over the tub in your spacious bathroom, water still running into the already half-full, half-bloody bathtub. Your arms are wet up to your elbow from trying to scrub out some nasty and very resistant bloodstains out of one of Tangerine's shirts.

He had been in a nasty pub brawl after last week's West Ham victory and, knowing it was one of his favourite shirts, you had tried your best to get it clean. But even two rounds in the washing machine didn't do much. Thus, you decided to give it a good old handwash.

"Love?", you hear a familiar voice calling out and you huff with exhaustion, sinking back onto the heels of your feet.

"Yeah, I'm in the bathroom!", you answer and a moment later he appears in the opened door, leaning against the frame, arms crossed.

"What're ya doin' there?", Tangerine furrows his brows. He is wearing one of his suits, hair still neatly combed back like he hasn't been out for 8 hours, doing God knows what.

"Hand washing this shirt of yours, stains won't go out in the machine", you pull the fabric out of the tub, water slushing down. There's little improvement. You decide to rub a little harder.

Tangerine says nothing - just watches you, dressed in nothing but a big shirt and what he assumes are panties hiding underneath its hem; watches the way it scoots up every now and then when you scrub with more force, confirming his suspicions. It is a tiny light blue string made from fine lace, one, that he had bought for you a while ago.

He swallows, feeling himself growing hard in his slacks. It is not just the sight of you - even more so it's you doing this for him. Cleaning something up, that he had messed up.

Actually, he's thankful that you are going out of your way to clean up his clothes. He knows that it is a hell of a job to get blood out of any sort of fabric and he feels guilty for somehow putting you through it, especially since it is painfully obvious where the stains come from.

He knows it was your decision to stay - to stay with him - to keep up with the life he leads, and the job that brings in the tons of money keeping you afloat comfortably.

Still, he feels like making it up to you. There is something about you kneeling there, doing chores, that remembers him of something you had said to him a while ago. Something that now has his blood pumping, making him feel like he's about to burst.

"Darlin'?"

"Yes?", you say, brushing a loose strand of hair from your forehead, a few drops of water running down your cheek.

"Get up, love."

You look up, eyes furrowing with confusion. "Why? I am nearly done with -"

"Wanna properly say Hello to my little housewife, me", there is a mischievous gleam in his eyes and it has your heartbeat picking up immediately.

You know what that means. You have been speaking about this: the idea of him coming home after a long, maybe even dangerous day and just taking you, bending you over the nearest surface because it pleased him - that the thought of him treating you like nothing more but an obedient housewife, cleaning up, keeping everything tidy and clean for him, and taking his cock whenever he pleased, made you wet. That the thought of being nothing more than a stupid little hole to him excited you.

The first time this particular thing had come up, had been after Tangerine returned home late after a delayed flight. You'd been up still, cooking him dinner. What was intended as nothing but a sweet gesture of adoration - knowing that he'll be both hungry and exhausted - turned into something else, after he had grabbed your hips from behind and bent you over the countertop for a quick fuck. It made something in your brain click, a new desire taking over your fantasies.

Now, you swallow, his shirt slowly sinking back into the soapy water - with its swirls of dried and darkened blood of some poor soul who was unlucky enough to meet your man on a particularly violentday - as you get up.

"You don't have to, you had a long day", you say softly.

"It's fine, lemme do this for ya", grabbing the nearest towel you dry off your arms and hands before coming closer to him. He stretches one hand out.

"C'mere", Tangerine smiles, all bright teeth and lines around his eyes and you do - taking his hand and then he pulls you against his firm chest, your hands resting on his shoulders. You inhale deeply, taking in his scent - wood, vanilla, orange - that wraps you in like a heavy blanket and you sigh.

"Don't burn yourself out over this fuckin' shirt, dove", he mumbles into your hair, arms wrapping around you, one hand confidently grabbing your ass cheek.

"I wasn't", your nose brushes over his throat, lips peppering gentle kisses to the soft skin. His hand firmly brushes over your tense shoulders, feeling the hardened tendons and both of you know that you are lying.

"Relax, love", he whispers, lips ghosting over your ear, "Let Daddy take care of ya."

And your body obeys to him as quickly as it always does: sinks against him, muscles going a little slack. You allow yourself to surrender to him fully, body going limp and mind going blank as you hand control over to him.

Tangerine's hand brushes through your hair, cups the back of your scalp and gives you a few gentle, patronizing strokes while one of his strong arms wraps around your waist, keeps you pressed against him upright.

"Y'good, love?", he says quietly and you release a satisfied hum.

"Words, poppet, be a good girl."

"Yeah -- yeah, I'm alright, keep going", you whisper against his chest, "Please."

The hand stroking your scalp vanishes, fingers brushing over your cheek and cupping your chin until it is lifting your head up. Your eyes meet his.

"So, what did I say?", Tangerine says sternly, gaze boring into yours.

You swallow, breath hitching a little and your chest heaves with it. The tone of his voice has your head swimming, your tummy tingling with want. The hand on your cheek is warm, the cold tingle of his rings on your skin grounding you.

"What did I say?”, he says again, squinting at you. It makes your knees buckle.

"N-never scrub without a brush", you whisper, lust making you choke on your words.

"Mhm, exactly", he hums, nods, "Then, why didn't ya do it?"

"Because --", you suck in air through parted lips, thighs rubbing together, eyelids fluttering, "Because I am stupid, stupid girl."

"That you are, m'little airhead", he says softly, voice growing deep, "And what do stupid little girls get?"

"Punished", you whisper, eyes glowing with excitement and stomach tingling with it just the same. You know, that he is not really mad and it sure does feel like a lot like it, making you bite your lower lip.

Tangerine nods again, thumb caressing your cheek. "Get on the bed, get naked - ya can still do that for me, can ya, silly? Or did ya little brain already leave your pretty head, there?"

You shake your head, fingers clinging into the expensive jacket of his suit as you stand up straight again, mind already a little hazy.

"Good", Tangerine nods slowly, eyes darting down to where your bodies meet. His hand leaves your cheek and you whine but it crawls down, one long finger hooking in the collar of your shirt and pulling it down. He tilts his head a little, as he's looking at your cleavage, tits pressed up nicely by his chest. You're not wearing a bra and he smiles - cold and cruel. "Get going, love, I wanna see what's mine."

You nod, swaying a little on your feet as you take a step back, arousal pooling in your abdomen. "Don't take too long", he says, gives your ass a lazy slap as you walk past him.

You do as you're told, carelessly dropping your shirt and panties on the armchair in the corner of the bedroom, before climbing onto the soft mattress. Splaying out on your stomach with your feet dangling in the air you wait for him until he finally, finally enters the bedroom. He is still wearing his suit, only dropped his jacket, and is carrying a small pink bag. You know what's inside, stomach tingling at the thought.

Tangerine tosses it onto the bed and sits down next to you, hooks his slender index finger beneath your chin, guiding your head up. His thumb brushes over your lower lip and your jaw goes slack, tongue darting out and rubbing over it. He grins and pushes the digit in, has you obediently closing your lips around it, sucking on his thumb.

His other hand wanders up to his tie, loosens it and then carelessly drops it to the floor, pops open a few buttons of his shirt.

"Stupid lil' thing, hm", he hums, "Sucking on my thumb like it's my cock? That needy already?"

You nod nod nod, blinking up at him and his other hand cups your chin, keeps your head in place. Your tongue rubs over the pad of his thumb and Tangerine licks his lips, eye twitching a little. "Listen here", he bows down a little, voice nothing but a growl, "Ya gonna take what Daddy gives ya, y'hear me? If I wanna see your little cunt cum ten times, then that's what we're gonna do, 'lright?"

You nod around his thumb, excitement fluttering in your tummy but he just tsks at you. "Thought so -", pulling his thumb from your mouth he pats his thigh, "Time for your punishment, love. Only good girls get rewarded, don't they?"

"I wanna be a good girl", you whisper, as Tangerine deliberately and carefully rolls his sleeves up. Eagerly you crawl over his lap and then sink down, upper body on the mattress, hips on his thighs with your ass in the air. You can feel his already rock-hard dick pressing into your stomach and your whole body tingles with lust at the sensation.

"You wanna be a good girl?", Tangerine says, mocking your tone, as one large ringed hand grabs your ass, kneads the flesh, "D'you know what good girls do?"

Biting your lip you shake your head, looking at him over your shoulder, through your lashes. "They don't fuck up simple tasks."

"'M sorry, Daddy", you say cutely and he fucking growls at that, a dark shadow dancing over his blue eyes, turning them navy - into a stormy sea. Tangerine's hand rubs over your ass, the other presses down between your shoulder blades. The stretch in your back is delicious, and the way it presses one side of your face into the mattress has your head swimming, eyelids fluttering. "Legs together, dove", and you obey, pressing your thighs together, "There ya go. What d'ya think? Fifteen?"

You mewl, feet kicking with excitement, wetness pooling between your legs. "Want you to say it", Tangerine's hand plays with your ass, grabs one cheek and spreads it apart, thumb digging into the flesh and kneading it, "Go ahead and tell Daddy you want him to hit ya."

"Uuh", you mumble dumbly, heart racing and pussy already wet, and he scoffs at that meanly, "Wanna - Daddy, please - want you to hit me!"

"For?"

"F-for being a stupid girl."

"Atta girl", his hand gently strokes your ass cheek, "You'll get fifteen - no whinin', no yappin'."

"Y-yes", you nod, biting your lip in anticipation, readying yourself for the first hit. And he wastes no time, gives your ass a light squeeze and then his ringed hand comes down, hits your right cheek with a loud smack. You gasp, eyes falling shut as you feel the tingling burn spreading through your backside.

The second and third hit follow, making you moaning quietly - warmth spreading on your skin, the slight burn tingling.

Tangerine watches your skin slowly turning into a soft pink and grabs a handful, thumb brushing over the forming bruise. He hums quietly to himself, hand wandering down, caressing your inner thigh - his rings are cold, bracelet rustling, and shivers run down your spine.

He squeezes the flesh of your thigh, hand wandering dangerously high and you hum, but it vanishes before being close enough to your cunt. The other hand on your back adds a little more pressure, and you gasp at the stretch.

"Such a pretty girl", he hums, bounces you on his legs a little, "What a shame you're so silly."

You whimper, hands aimlessly darting over the sheets. You want him to hit you again, with your ass already feeling a little sore and the way the slight pain runs straight to your core, makes your pussy so so wet.

"Can't even clean a fuckin' shirt", he tsks just as his hand comes down once more, two quick blows on your left and right cheek, has your ass jiggling with the force of it. He watches it, then grabs a handful and feels you up.

His thumb digs into the flesh close to your crack as he toys with your ass, and you can feel the way it spreads your folds apart. Your pussy is desperate for any sort of friction and you gasp as your clit throbs, rubbing your thighs together.

"Uuh-huh", is all that leaves your mouth dumbly, with his hard cock pressing against your stomach, hot and twitching through his slacks. It's hard to think, to form a coherent thought - all that's on your mind is his thick cock. "Daddy--", you gasp, rutting your hips down on his thigh, fresh wetness running down your legs and onto his trousers.

"Stop - fuckin' - movin'", each word lands another blow and you cry out, trying your best not to move on his lap, but the sharp pain has your hips jolting upward, shoots riiight into your cunt, hole clenching.

"Oh, you're really enjoying this, aren't ya, poppet?", Tangerine scoffs as you moan, your legs falling apart a little, "I can smell how wet you are, darlin'. Lemme see."

Your fingers claw into the sheets, wanting nothing more but the smallest touch. His large hand brushes over your ass, rings cold on your hot and reddening skin and then it dips between your cheeks, brushes down your crack and between your thighs.

"Fuckin' hell", he whispers as his index finger runs through your folds. He wasn't wrong - you are incredibly wet, thick watery slick makes his finger slip over your pussy smoothly as he assesses your arousal. Easily, he slips one ringed finger into you, bottoms it out. Your cunt clenches around it and he marvels at how tight you are, a trembling moan leaving your lips. It's not enough, you want him to fuck you - hard and fast - but it has your chest fluttering nonetheless.

The finger retreats as quickly as it entered you, circles your hole and thehand on your back crawls down, gives your left cheek a light pat that has you squirming.

"Nothing but a set of pretty holes f'me, aren't ya, love?", and you mewl, feet kicking a little as his fingers continue to run through your folds, his other hand now landing another blow on your ass. It stings nicely and you moan, desperately trying to roll your hips onto the finger rubbing lazy circles over your clit.

"D'ya want Daddy to put it back inside?", and you nod nod nod, but he just laughs.

"Words, silly, good girls use their words, don'they?", and you inhale a shaky breath, before lifting your head a little, looking over your shoulder.

Tangerine looks at you, one brow smugly cocked, and it's only the slight flush of his chest visible underneath the unbuttoned collar of his shirt that betrays him. That, and his hard dick pressing against your stomach.

It makes your head swim, blinking up at him dumbly, lips falling agape a little. "Uhh", you breathe, "P-please--"

Tangerine lands another blow on your ass and you gasp loudly, followed by a desperate noise leaving your throat. "Words, slut."

You look up at him with big, watery eyes. "P-please", you say, voice shaking a little, "Finger m-me."

"There ya go", he says softly, finger abandoning your clit and pressing into your hole a moment later. He slips it in with ease, buries it deep inside of you and immediately starts to thrust it in and out.

"Yeah, wan'me to use you, eh love?", he fucks into you fast and deep, squelching sounds filling the air, "Want Daddy to stuff your pretty little hole, don't ya?"

"Y-yes", you plead, feeling his finger brushing over your walls, his golden ring against your hole. You can hear him hum and then his hand comes down for two more hits on your ass, has you clenching around his finger, moaning against the sheets.

Tangerine wastes no time, adds a second finger, stretches your tight hole out with the way he pushes them in, cold rings slipping in a little.

The sensation nearly has you going insane on the spot, rutting back on his fingers which earns you nothing more but another blow on your right cheek. "Keep on movin' and I tie you to a fuckin' chair for the rest of the day, whore", and you moan, hips stuttering and he pushes a third finger in.

Obscene squelching sounds of your hole being fucked and filled, of your slick wetting his fingers, emerge between your legs and you gasp as his digits brush over your favourite spot. Your loins ignite with it and your abdomen clenches, cunt squirting against the palm of his hand.

"Please, p-please - oh - fuck, fuck", you brabble, eyes tearing up and he tsks, shakes his head.

"Ah ah ah c'mon, words, love. Don't ya curse - you're too pretty to curse like Daddy always does, aren't ya? M'pretty lil' thing, eh?"

His hand comes down on your ass hard, has you gasping loudly, wincing in pain while his fingers continue to fuck you.

"One more, baby", and your hips buck, "Can my slut take one more?"

Tangerine's hand caresses your reddening ass, where a bruise in the form of his hand forms, an angry red and dark red where his rings hit your skin. His bracelet rustles and he grabs a handful, jiggles your left cheek. "Y-yes", you moan, his fingers rubbing your walls, making your legs tremble.

"Ready up", he says and you can hear him grin. Still, nothing can prepare you for how hard his hand comes down and how loud the blow echoes off the bedroom's walls, how the pain shoots through your ass and right between your legs, has you crying out with both: pain and pleasure.

Your walls contract around him as your lower belly contracts, squeezes his fingers and he knows what's about to happen, knows your body like his own.

"Don't you fuckin' cum, now", he says sternly, with his fingers pumping in and out of you, pushing your slick in and out in and out, and then in once more, as he nestles his fingers deeply in your tight and hot cunt halting any movement, "Be a good girl and hold it fo' Daddy."

Your muscles clench and your thighs contract, as you're giving your best to hold back your release, chest heaving as you moan into the mattress.

Tangerine leans down a little, his other hand wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. "Don't" - he whispers, the fingers inside of you start moving again, their pads very very slowly rubbing along your walls - "You" - his tongue darts out, licks over the shell of your ear, moustache tingling a little, "Cum now."

Your chest heaves with every ragged breath that you suck in, hips trembling and cunt squirting against his fingers, lust pulsating wildly through your loins and making your head swim as you are trying your best to just not cum. Tangerine chuckles lowly, gaze wandering over your body, taking in the way your legs tremble and feet kick - he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers and he really, really wants to get you on all fours and just bury his cock inside of you, fucking you senseless until you're a brabbling, drooling mess. His dick is so fucking hard, pressing against his slacks and it has him on the edge, the beast inside him tearing at the seams, but he knows better than to just act upon it, wants to make it better for you.

Tangerine watches the muscles is your legs and back relaxing over the passing minutes that you warm his fingers, walls and pussy growing plush and warm warm warm, as you hold him inside of you, breath slowing down a little with it, too.

"Mhm, there ya go", your hole flutters around his fingers as he pulls them out and you mewl, legs wobbly with your denied orgasm, cunt aching for just another small touch. You can feel it pulsating, your clit throbbing.

"Daddy", you whine helplessly, hips lifting a little, "N-need your cock." And he's gonna give it to you, feels like he's about to burst anyways.

"Shh shh", Tangerine coos, sticky hand rubbing over your sore ass, the slight pain igniting your lust even more, has fresh wetness pooling between your folds, "Good girls get rewarded, don'they?"

You nod frantically, thighs rubbing together. "Well," you can hear the grin forming on his face, "Get on your fuckin' knees, then."

Tangerine parts his thighs a little and you scramble from his lap hastily, sinking down between his spread legs. Your ass is sore and burns and as you sink on to your thighs you can feel the sting, eyes tearing up a little and you blink up at him - hands resting obediently on his knees.

"Look at ya", he whispers, a dark shadow dancing over his eyes, as he licks his lips.

Tangerine cups your face with both hands, carefully brushing a few loose strands from your cheeks and forehead. Your hands brush over his thighs, feeling his muscles twitch beneath the expensive fabric and then you lean in. You're all cock-drunk, needy and wanting with your cunt pulsing between your legs. Your tongue runs over the outline of his clothed dick, leaves a damp stripe behind and Tangerine groans, eyes growing even darker. "Fuckin' hell, you really need't be stuffed, huh", he watches you running your lips over his bulge and he feels like he's about to burst; creaming into his pants like he's fucking 16 and living on the streets again, watching some hooker giving a City man a gobby behind a dumpster.

"Stop it", Tangerine husks, grabs your hair, and yanks your head away, breath already a little ragged, "Fuckin' behave ya'self."

Your eyes gleam up at him and he grins, thumb brushing over your temple gently. "C'mon, get my dick out, will ya?"

You comply, fingers hastily fumbling open his belt and pulling down the zipper, opening the fly of his pants and yanking his satin boxers down.

Tangerine inhales sharply as his long and thick dick springs free against his abdomen, tip flushed pink and glistening with precum. Your mouth waters at the sight and he wants to drag it out, he really wants to, feel arousal pumping through his veins - gets high on it like only adrenaline usually does it for him.

But it's physically impossible - the way you're looking at his hard cock with watery, dopey eyes and flushes cheeks while kneeling in front of him naked has his boner fucking aching. "Fuckin' get to it already, slut."

And you do, one hand grabbing his dick at the base, tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe up to the tip, flicking your tongue over it and licking his precum up.

You love his cock, you really do. Nice and long and thick, cut and resting between neatly trimmed pubic hair. You love the way he fucks you with it, too, how it never misses the spot that has you seeing stars and white spots, how it feels like it has been made for your pussy and yours alone.

You love how it tastes, salty and musky, and you wrap your lips around its tip, resting it on your tongue - not sucking, not licking - just feeling and tasting his dick.

It's fucking huge anyways, looks like it too, wrapped in by your slender fingers. You close your eyes, tongue swirling around the tip before your close your lips around it, gently sucking while your hand strokes the base of his cock.

"Mh, that's how it's supposed t'be, ain't it, sugar?", he hums, hands brushing through your hair, "Me coming home to ya, my pretty little housewife, ready to please."

You hum around his cock, slowly letting him in deeper, tongue rubbing over the bottom while your lips suck. You can hear him breathe deeply and your gaze flicks up to him.

Tangerine looks down at you, eyes dark and shining with lust, one hand gripping the edge of the bed, his chest flushed. The look on his face makes you wet wet wet, wanting to please him.

You keep your eyes on him as you take more of his dick into your mouth, relaxing your jaw but still gagging a little as the tip grazes your throat. He chuckles meanly.

"C'mon love, you can do better than that, can't ya?", Tangerine fists your hair and you hallow your cheeks, your jaw going slack as you let him in further.

You want to be good for him - good girl good girl good girl - your body practically igniting with every little praise he grants you and you want to hear it again. Thus, you move your head around his cock, sucking him off, tongue rubbing over the bottom his dick.

Quickly, you are overdoing it, choking, and gagging around it, eyes tearing up as you hastily suck in a few breaths through your nose.

"Look at ya, all pretty tits and tight holes, but no fuckin' brain", Tangerine mocks, thumb stroking your cheekbone, rubbing over your temple, and then wandering through your hair, cupping the back of your head, "You look so pretty with my cock in ya mouth like that. Only thing you're good for, eh?"

He doesn't wait for you to regain your breath, rolls his hips once, holds your head in place as he thrusts into your mouth.

You relax your throat, letting him in, the tip of his cock hitting the back of it. Still sucking in air through your nose your eyelids flutter, readying yourself for what you know is about to come.

Knowing him, you're not wrong as he starts to roll his hips again and again, groaning with the sensation of his dick burying itself deep in your throat.

Tangerine watches how his cock vanishes in your mouth, bulges your throat a little and he can't hold back anymore. His hand grabs your neck, thumb pressing against your scalp and starts to fuck into your mouth. "Fuckin' hell", he huffs, your spit slicking his cock as he slips in and out of your mouth.

You moan, sending vibrations through his cock that has it twitching in your throat, making your eyes tear up, gagging a little.

Being used by him like this has your heartbeat picking up, bruises on your ass still stinging and cunt throbbing and you rub your thighs together, hands clawing into his slacks.

"Yeah, that's it -- get's you all fuckin' wet choking on my big cock like that, dunnit?", it does, has you sputtering around the thick base, spit running down your chin, wetting his trimmed pubes.

Holding your head in place Tangerine fucks into your mouth, groaning and moaning occassionally, watches your chin turning wet with spit, eyes wet with tears - your thighs rubbing together. The way he ruts into you has his bracelet and chain rustling.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ", he groans and you can feel his thighs clenching underneath your touch, the muscles underneath his waistcoat hardening and his cock twitching, pulsating on your tongue. You know he's close and you ready up for --

Suddenly, Tangerine pulls his dick from your mouth - has you gasping for air - and takes your hand, the one still firmly resting on his thigh. He holds it in his and then wraps it around his cock, your hand resting beneath his on his dick as he starts to jerk himself off with it. His hand is so much larger than yours, cold jewellery hard and heavy against your fingers, that wrap delicately around his hard cock.

"Keep your eyes open 'n look at me", he rasps, and you can feel his dick twitch in your hand as your gazes lock and then he moans, deep and feral - thick, hot ropes of white cum shoot out of his cock onto your cheeks. He strokes himself through his orgasm with your hand, sucks in a sharp breath as he paints your face white, marks you up.

Your eyelids flutter as you try your best to keep them open, his cum missing your eye by mere millimetres.

Tangerine groans as the last bit of cum lands on your face, goosebumps raising on his skin. His dick slowly goes flaccid after he sucks in a few breaths. Looking at you, he grins, licks his lips.

His free hand brushes through your hair, keeps the strands out of his cum, gently stroking your forehead. "Put m'cock away, will ya?"

You comply, kitten licks cleaning the few droplets of cum from the tip and then his hand lets go of yours, allows you to carefully put him back into his boxers, pulling the zipper back up.

Watching your blown-out dark eyes and puffy lips, he sucks in another deep breath, cheeks reddened a little and the colour spreads down down down his throat, tints his chest in a pretty pink beneath his chest hair, vanishes underneath his unbuttoned shirt. "Y'wanna cum, too, hm silly?"

And you nod, nod, nod.

"Atta girl, jus' a second - we should get ya cleaned up, shouldn't we?"

Tangerine's slender fingers run through his cum plastered on your cheek, scooping some of it up before tapping your lips. You open up obediently and he wastes no time pushing them in, feeding you his cum like it's cream. "There ya go, lick 'em clean", and you do, tongue swirling around his fingers, before he pulls them out and moves them across your face, collecting some more of his cum until he is pushing them back into your opened mouth, "Least that ya clean up well."

You can feel your cheeks turning red, the taste of them mingling with his cum and the remaining taste of sucking him off, has you moaning around his fingers. "Maybe I should fuckin' cum on everything I want'ya to tidy up? Would you like that, whore?"

Your eyelids flutter, nodding like you are fucking possessed. "Yeah, bet you love that. House would be fuckin' spotless. Bet I could fuckin' shoot a load on the floor and you'd lick it up, huh?"

You hum around his fingers and his lips tilt up. "And what would you say then, hm?", his clean fingers, sticky with your saliva, slip from your mouth.

"T-thank you for keeping me busy", you croak.

"So ya do have manners after all", he mocks, looking genuinely amused and gives your cheek a light pat, rings connecting with your sticky skin, "Alright, get back on the bed. I ain't fuckin' done wit'ya."

Tangerine gets up, grabs your hand, and helps you back on your feet, watches your naked form as you crawl onto the mattress. He is still fully dressed and your whole fucking body tingles as you catch him staring, eyes roaming over your flushed backside, your plush and aching cunt resting firmly and exposed between your thighs as you kneel on all fours before rolling on your stomach. You bite your lower lip and - deciding to make a show out of it for him, to finally, finally get what you want and need - you stretch one leg out delicately, arching your back a little.

Tangerine huffs. You look so fucked-out, used, with your swollen lips and dark, lustful eyes. Your cheeks are flushed and your hair a mess, nipples hard and cunt all puffy. But you can't help it - you feel like you're on fire, hands darting out for leverage as you spread your legs, exposing yourself to him.

He kneels between your spread legs, the mattress dipping a little and his hands run over your thighs. You hum, gaze flicking over his strong arms, as one of his hands brushes higher, over your hip and waist, cups your tit and squeezes your nipple.

"Back to actin' like the whore you are, eh?", you squirm as he toys with your nipple, pleasure shooting through your body, fresh wetness pooling between your legs. His other hand brushes up your thigh and his fingers quickly dip between your legs, running through your slick. "C'mon, spread your legs f'me", following his command your knees fall to the side, giving his gaze way to your wet and aching cunt.

Tangerine licks his lips, giving your tit one last squeeze before running down your body, spreading your folds apart with both hands.

"Jesus Christ, you just have the prettiest cunt, don't ya?", Tangerine's thumbs stroke your outer labia, pulling them apart while he watches your cunt throb, hole fluttering open, wanton for his attention. "Wouldn't want to fuck another one, 's perfect."

He grabs the pink bag that had been laying discarded on the mattress and ziiips it open, reaches inside. You stomach tingles as he pulls your favourite vibrator out of it, tosses a bottle of lube onto the sheets. It is slightly curved and has just the right girth and length to be sufficient; you love to fuck yourself with it when he is away, having him cooing pretty things into your ear over the phone while he jerks himself off to your sweet sounds.

Your breath hitches and you watch his every move, cunt aching for any sort of friction and the unspoken promise of being fucked by him with the toy has you going a little dizzy. It's not quite like being fucked by his dick, but it's strong and usually leaves you with shaky legs.

Tangerine's gaze flicks over your face and a smug grin dances across his lips, one hand running over your thigh. "Y'gonna let Daddy have some fun with your cunt?", he brushes the toy over your sensitive clit and the cool silicone has your hips bucking immediately, "Wanna see ya come, such a pretty thing." You roll your hips onto the cold and quickly dampening toy, the friction being nice enough to make you moan quietly.

"P-please", you whisper, "T-turn it on."

Tangerine lifts an eyebrow. "You gotta speak up, whore, don't act like you still got cock in ya mouth."

His command has you blushing, eyelids fluttering. "C-can you", you swallow, speaking up a little, voice shaky, "Can you please turn it on?"

He scoffs, one hand grabbing your thigh. "Oh, of course. Why didn't you say that earlier, hm?"

And then, his thumb presses down onto the little button, has the vibrator coming to life in an instant, presses the tip down on your clit.

"Oh my god", you gasp, throwing your head back, hands grabbing the sheets. "Jus' me, love", he grins, licks his lips and presses the toy flatly onto your cunt. The vibrations are running through your abdomen, and you moan lewdly, grinding against it.

Your cunt pulsates and your clit throbs against it, mouth falling agape - moaning and panting in rhythm with your hips rolling onto the toy.

"Look at my silly little whore", he grabs your chin roughly, his gaze boring into yours as you look at him heavy-lidded, mouth slightly agape. Tangerine runs the vibrator through your folds and you arch your back into it. Squeezing some lube onto your cunt he is running the toy through it, until he decides it's slick enough and pushes it into your hole with one rough, quick stroke. Your hips buck with the sudden intrusion, the way you can feel it vibrating inside of you has you moaning, throwing your head back.

Tangerine gives you no time to assess to the feeling as he starts to immediately fuck you with it fast, obscene sounds filling the air as he pushes the toy in and out of you.

You gasp loudly, closing your eyes and fisting the sheets below you. Incoherent, dumb little sounds escape your throat as you moan and gasp, lips parted a little. The stimulation quickly becomes a lot, nearly too much, has your head falling to the side and eyes darting open, watching how his hand shoves the toy in and out of you. It's also not enough, had your stomach tingling and loins feeling they are on fucking fire, a strong pulling sensation in your lower belly that makes you feel like you might go insane.

"Daddy", you plead uselessly, clenching around the toy, "'S not enough."

"Ah, you poor thing - too bad", Tangerine tilts his head a little, smiles at you meanly, "You'll take it."

His hand abandons your chin and runs over your chest, roughly cupping your tit and giving a light slap before running back up up up, over your throat and then grabbing your chin again. Your gazes meet and something dances over his, dark and dangerous and you know that he is holding back just a little. And you know, that you don't want him to. Do it you mouth and his eyes fall shut for a split second, before opening up again, dark navy hazy with lust.

Your brain goes all foggy and swims with anticipation, as his hand vanishes. It comes back down on your cheek with a loud smack, throws your head to the side.

You moan like you are some cheap whore out of some fucking porno - high-pitched and loud -, throwing your head back with your hands grabbing the sheets hard as your body rocks down on the vibrator.

Tangerine scoffs at you - watches the way your slick mixes with the lube and spreads around the pink shaft - makes his fingers all sticky with it - shakes his head a little. "Needy fuckin' thing."

It's all too much and your legs fall shut, knees pressing together as your body tries both: to flee the immense stimulation and to embrace it, drown itself in it. But Tangerine is having none of it, grabs your knee forcefully and spreads your legs back apart, grabs your thigh and holds it down onto the matress. You whine, chest heaving and body shaking, has your tits bounce with it - his eyes follow the movement hungrily.

"'S too much", you whine, throwing your head to the side, eyes falling shut. You feel like you're on fire, toes curling and eyes rolling back, your cunt all plush and plump and throbbing and so so ready to fucking cum already but you just can't, it's just not enough.

"You'll take what I fuckin' give ya", and your whole body rocks with it, the pent-up pleasure running rampant through your body and you pull one knee up, angling your leg, feeling the toy gliding in deeper. You moan desperately, eyes watching how it drills into you, hips and legs starting to shake.

Tangerine grins at you, tilts his head a little. "Oh", he pouts at you playfully, cocks an eyebrow while his eyes gleam down at you, "Does she wanna come? Does she, yeah?"

His tongue kisses his teeth as his thumb flicks over the button on the vibrator. The sudden increase of the vibration has you gasping loudly, a very vocal Oh leaving your lips, followed by a high-pitched moan. One of your hands darts out and grabs the pillow above your head, giving you some more leverage to thrust down onto the toy.

You can feel the vibration of the toy pulsing through your whole lower body and it has you gasping with it.

"Yeah, that's it, innit?", his thumb presses down on your clit, rubs small circles and it has you coming loose, finally, a near scream ripping from your throat, shaking, and rocking onto his thumb and the vibrator. You squirt, wetting his arms and wrists, jewellery shining with your juices and the sheets get sticky and wet with it. Tangerine whistles lowly, watches how you come undone in front of him - tits bouncing and cheeks flushed - moaning and gasping, the ecstasy has your face in a near angelic expression.

And it gets him so fucking hard.

He knows that you will be ready for him again in no time, edging you leaves you wet and horny even after an orgasm and he just has to feel you now.

Tossing the toy onto the mattress, he runs a finger through your hot and sticks folds, has you whining and squirming. He feels you up, asses your slick and teases your hole for a short while, until sweet sweet moans replace your whining, until he can feel your clit throbbing beneath his finger.

"C'mon", Tangerine unbuckles his belt, "My stupid little whore has another one in her, don't she? One more f'Daddy?"

You whine, knees falling apart like you are his personal fucking sex doll, hole clenching around nothing. Your hands run over your tits, squeezing them while you watch him getting undressed - shredding the waistcoat first, followed by his tie and shirt and then his pants - one of them wanders down down down your body, lazily circles your clit.

Your eyes dart down to his hard dick that springs free as he tosses his boxers away, curving against his abdomen, the taste of it still on your tongue and your head swims with it.

"Don't ya fuckin' touch yourself", he swats your hand away and leans in, spits onto your hot and plush cunt, thumb immediately rubbing over your sensitive clit. Your legs shake, hips bucking and it takes only a few strokes of his finger for you to squirt again, adding fresh wetness to the sticky sheets below you. "No one touches you like I do, eh?", and you shake your head, eyes tearing up a little with lust, "Mh, thought so - not even yourself. Always need me to get ya off nice and proper, don't ya?"

He's right. Whenever he is gone and allows you to touch yourself over the phone you do come, but it's nowhere as good, toe-curling and le-shaking as it is when his tongue and fingers are on your cunt, dick buried deep deep inside of you. And thus, you nod -Yes yes yes escaping your lips like a chant.

He is so much taller, so much stronger than you - could snap your neck in a blink of an eye, rip your throat out with bare hands - and it has your head swimming while you watch him stroking himself, tip of his hard dick flushed pink and your brain practically shuts down fully at the sight. It tips you over, has your mind enter a foggy state and limbs going slack as subspace embraces you.

"You like that? You like being my slut, don't ya?"

"Y-yes, Daddy -- l-love it", you moan sweetly and then he looks up at you, lips curling into a crude smile.

Stretching his hand out towards you, he tilts his head a little. "Spit then, slut", and you do, leaning forward and spitting into his hand. Some of your saliva runs down your chin and he scoffs at that, wets his dick with your spit. You watch how he spreads your saliva around the flushed skin and your lips fall agape, a soft moan crawling from your throat. Your legs spread further, hands running over your thighs - up up up - spreading the lips of your cunt apart.

His gaze flicks up, watches how you expose yourself to him, practically offering him your hole, stretching it out for him. "Jesus Christ", he huffs, feels his heartbeat picking up and then he grabs your ankle forcefully, pulls you closer. You barely have any time processing him manhandling you as he lines his cock up with your entrance, pushes in with one strong stroke, buries himself fully in your pussy.

He grabs your hands and pulls them away from your folds, carelessly drops them at the sides of you body, holds your hips up by your waist - watches the way you split on his dick while you gasp and pant.

His cock is so much bigger than the toy, longer and thicker and you gasp as he pushes in. The way your hole stretches around him is delicious, slight pain igniting your loins. No matter how often you take his dick, you are never fully used to it - the dull pain increased by a tenfold with your overstimulated and plush cunt, welcoming his cock home. "Ssh, there ya go, take it all", Tangerine coos, and you moan as his cock pushes in all the way, rests between your walls, hot and pulsating.

"Such a tight fuckin' cunt", he hisses, as you squeeze around him, while he starts to move slowly inside of you. Tangerine watches your lower belly bulging a little with his large cock, sees where it is fucking into you through your skin. One of his hands hooks around your knee, lifts your leg up a little, the other one gently caresses the small bulge in your lower stomach, feels himself beneath your skin.

Tangerine starts to roll his hips faster, angles his thrusts deeper as he looks at you, brows furrowed a little, hand cupping your lower stomach. You whine and mewl with the agonizingly slow way he pushes his cock into you, a smile tugging at his lips as he watches your face slowly coming apart, eyelids fluttering while you watch him fucking into you.

"You feel so fuckin' good, takin' me so well, eh", Tangerine's thrusts speed up, and your body slightly rocks with it, your hips meeting his. Your head falls to the side and you loose yourself into the way he fucks you - losing all track of time, your body going a little numb, feeling nothing more than his cock inside of you, his hands on your body.

"You fucking slut - fuckin' made to only please me", and you hum, a little drool gathering in the corner of your mouth, slooowly creeping out and dropping onto the mattress. Tangerine's gaze follows it hungrily and his eyelids flutter, while you look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Shit", he huffs, hips bucking into your hole wildly, hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into them hard.

You are so fucking pretty to him, all fucked-out with your body obedient to him and your mind buried deep deep in subspace and a part of him wishes you'd never come back - staying in this blissful and stupid state, chasing nothing but pleasure and waiting for him at home, on your knees and offering your waiting holes to him.

And Tangerine can't stop his mind from going there, conjuring up the delicious image of you bend over the kitchen table in nothing but a tiny apron, cunt stuffed with some fucking toy, waiting for him to come home and take you. And that's what he'd do, drenched and dripping in blood, would leave red stains all over your soft skin when he grabs you, pushes his dick into your hot cunt.

It makes him moan, head falling forward a little, a few strands of hair coming loose. He has to hear you say it, feels his balls tensing at the thought. His eyes dart up at you through hooded eyes and dark lashes.

"Who d'ya fuckin' belong to?", he growls.

"'M all yours, fuck fuck fuck", sweet sweet moans fall from your lips and it has him going fucking feral. Tangerine moans deep in his throat, wraps one arm around your waist and with all his strength pulls you up, rests you on his muscular thighs. His shins are resting on the mattress as he hammers you down onto his dick and it has you seeing stars, the way his body presses against you, cock pushing into your hole deeper and deeper.

Desperate for any sort of leverage your arms wrap around his neck, fingers clawing at his shoulders while you turn into puddy in his arms, as he lifts your hips up and bounces you on his dick, manhandles you while you fuck yourself with it. Your tits bounce against his firm and sweaty chest, his breath tingles on your throat.

"There ya go", he grunts as you roll your hips, toes curling with the way the thick head of his dick brushes over the spot that has you seeing stars. You moan and gasp, head falling back as you rock onto him, chasing your release.

"D-daddy", you pant, breath hitching in your throat, blinking away the tears forming in your eyes. It's all too much but not enough and you need him to say it - need him to tell you that it's alright, that you're allowed to come. "'M gonna cum, p-please, I-I -- y-you", you whine incoherently, looking down and watching how his cock drills into you, your juices wetting his pubes and abdomen, running down your thighs, sounds of naked skin slapping onto each other filling the air.

There's a heavy pull in your loins and you gasp loudly, sweetly, hips stuttering.

Small tears of pent-up arousal run down your cheeks and he cups your face with one hand, leans in and licks them away, tongue gliding over your cheeks. "Shh shh", he murmurs, his dark blue eyes prettily framed by long lashes as they transfix your fucked-out gaze, "I'll let ya cum, love - whenever ya want, jus' let go."

"C-can't", you stutter, goosebumps on your skin as you gasp, fingers entangling his dark locks that curl right above his shoulders and pulling on them lightly. And that, that gets him fucking going.

Tangerine moans loudly, his cock twitching deep inside of you. He grabs your chin roughly, holds your head in place. "You fuckin' slut", he growls and you can't help but to tug again, completely out of it and unaware that it might have consequences for you - you just need to feel his cock twitch inside of you again.

It does, has you moaning, lips falling agape. "Fuckin' behave", he growls and then, in a blink of an eye, his hand leaves your chin and connects with your cheek with a loud smack, throwing your head to the side. It tips you over.

You squirt heavily around his cock as you cum, milking him, while rocking down on it and spreading your slick, making it shoot up and wet his abdomen, skin glistening with it. His trimmed pubic hair rubs your overstimulated clit and you release more wetness, obscene squelching sounds filling the air.

Tangerine's cock pulses inside of you as he comes, too, shoots thick ropes of hot cum into your cunt that seem endless while filling you up. You squeeze around him and you feel so so full, his cum already pooling at the base of his dick, pushing out of you, and mingling with your creamy release.

He roughly pushes you back onto the mattress, hands grabbing your knees and then he is rutting into you with near inhuman strength, fucking both of you through your cojoined orgasms. Tangerine's cum squelches in and out of you and you cry out as waves of pleasure roll through your body, makes your limbs tremble and squirt shooting against his dick, wetting his pubic hair and abdomen like you're a broken hose. You can feel it run down your legs, dripping down onto the sheets.

"Fuck fuck fuck", you cry out, shaking wildly and then everything goes white - your own body feeling far far away. Your limbs feel so so heavy but you also feel light, like flying, not a single thought remaining as you feel your orgasm running through your veins, making you shake with it.

It takes a while for your body to snap back out of it, slowly drifting back into reality. The first thing you feel, is a warm body pressing against your back.

"Are y'lright, love?", Tangerine whispers, strong hands running over your arms, your sides, your hip. Your body feels so, so heavy as your mind is slowly coming back.

"Yeah", you croak, throat sore and voice raspy.

"Don't ya move, dove - I'll get ya cleaned up", you turn your head and blink at him, still a little out of it and he smiles at you, presses a soft kiss on your sweaty forehead, his stache tingling a little, "You did so good for me, didn't ya? 'M so proud of ya."

You nod lazily, your hand brushing over his strong forearm. "Thank you, babe", you whisper quietly, all worn out and tired, "I really needed that."

"Mh, you're welcome, love."

***

It's the faint smell of coffee in the air that carefully tickles you awake the next morning. Outside the opened window birds are chirping.

The first thing you notice is, that your legs hurt. The second thing is, that the other side of the bed is empty.

You call out your lover's name, his actual, real name but there's no answer. Groaning, you get up, legs heavy and sore from last night, and walk out of the bedroom. You can hear water running and follow the noise.

"Babe?", you peek through the half-opened door of the bathroom. There he is - in all his glory, with no shirt on - freckles dusted over his back like stars, scars and tattoos on full display, a cigarette dangling from his mouth while he is hunched over the sink. His hair curls over his shoulders, a little damp from what you assume must have been a recent shower. The air is still a little damp, despite the opened window. You can hear water splashing.

"Mornin'", Tangerine says, puffs out a cloud of smoke.

"No smoking indoors", you sigh, suppressing a yawn and he chuckles at that, deep in his throat.

"'M sorry, love, won't happen again."

"We both know it will", your hands brush over his shoulders and then you lean against him. You inhale his scent, feel his warmth against your palms. The muscles in his back and shoulder are working, flexing beneath the skin and you close your eyes, feeling the way his body works beneath you. He is oddly alive like this and you hope that he'll be home for a long time, won't leave again soon.

"Why are you up already?", you mumble against his firm back.

"Wanted to wash the stains out", and he sounds so, so annoyed by it, "But it's no use - it's either gonna be the dry-cleaner's or the bin, innit?"

[gojos-thot-patrol]

🌶️ nsfw HCs for jjk men 🥵 general sexy times~ what are they like in bed?

ooo, IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! TURN IT UPPPPP!!!

Now Presenting...

Starring Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna.

Sugru Geto

Cigarettes and feelings keep me Laughing when everything is all fucked up

C O R R U P T I O N  K I N K  DO YOU HEAR ME?!

He sees himself as dirty and ruined and he needs to see that in you too. 

His loves how you look when you’re choking on his cock

He loves it so much he’s gonna take a picture! He’s big on recording you in your most vulnerable moments

Mirror on the ceiling so you can watch him fuck you stupid

I hope you have a degradation kink cause he's going to call you his stupid fucking whore

But hey! At least you’re his stupid fucking whore!

He needs to push your limits. He needs to see how far you’re willing to go for him, and what you're willing to do to get his praise.

Unlike in your daily life, his praise is rare in the bedroom. That’s what makes it so intoxicating when he finally does give it out. You’re still going to have to work for it though.

CONTROVERSIAL TAKE: he hates to be called daddy. Call him literally anything else, but the moment you say “Daddy” he’s over it

Now Sir on the other hand? Sir will always make him act up, use it strategically, lest you get pounded in a dirty bathroom.

He gives me the vibes of someone that would convince you to drop ex or acid then fuck him for a “religious experience.”

IDK maybe that's just me seeing the cult leader in him.

All of that being said, I also think Suguru has mastered the art of aftercare

During the act he’s a monster, but after? Nothing but praise and love. He’s worshiping your body while cleaning you up, cuddling with you for as long as you’ll let him. 

You need water? He’s getting it. You want a bath? Say no more he’s running it for you.

He never wants you to think he’s just using you for your body.

Even if he is.

Satoru Gojo

Set my alarm, turn on my charm That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy

My most controversial Gojo take is that he’s actually not all that experienced

This man has spent his entire life either as a child or raising a child he didn’t have a lot of time for romance.

Not only that, but having sex with someone is an inherently vulnerable position to put yourself in. Man’s got too many enemies for that.

BUT that does not mean that he isn't willing to learn for you!

Gojo is above all else adaptable, and his main goal in the bedroom is to get you off. He’s willing to do whatever you need. 

Honestly, that’s probably his kink. Overstimulation. He wants to make you feel so good you're delirious, he wants to make you cum so hard you forget anything other than his name. 

He is the king of oral. It’s his favorite thing, eating you out through multiple orgrasam until his face is soaked in you. And he’s good at it too. He knows exactly how to make you  melt under him.

His dick isn’t thick, but it is long, and weirdly pretty for a cock. He also uses a ring light to take dick pics. Tell me he doesn’t, you can’t.

He’s also very vocal. He likes when you're loud, it’s how he knows he’s doing something right. So, he’s pretty vocal as well, wanting to let you know just how amazing you make him feel

when he's not telling you about how good you feel, he's kissing you. He LOVES kissing you, its like a drug to him.

Gojo struggles a lot with the feeling that people don’t really like him, so he has a praise kink. On both the giving AND receiving end

I also feel like he’s really into lingerie, and has no problems dropping a paycheck on a new set for you. 

Definition of “There’s a difference between fucking someone and making love.”

God, I hate that phrase but I'm genuinely not sure how else to get my point across lmao

When ya’ll are just fucking, he tries to play the part of a big tough dom, dirty talk galore, overstimulation to the point of tears, the man is a beast.

But in your quiet moments, when you’re, for lack of a better word, making love, there’s a 63% chance he's going to cry.

He gets overwhelmed by his love for you, and the realization that you love him for him, 6 eyes or not. It gets to him. 

And the best part? He’s not even embarrassed by it, because you don’t shame him for it. He’s truly safe with you

Kento Nanami

Hey pretty baby can you feel that heat? You got me twitchin to the edge of my seat

Dare I say daddy kink?

I do, I do dare. Nanami knows the type of person he attracts (riddled with daddy issues) and has decided to play into it. 

I feel like Nanami never loses his composure, even in the bedroom. He could be giving you the ride of your LIFE while calmly explaining the stock market to you. It’s part of why teacher Nanami is so appealing to me I’M SORRY-

“Are you paying attention? This is going to be on the test.”

He says as he's skullfucking you into oblivion 

Despite his calm composure, he's big on dirty talk…mostly as a way to ask for consent and gauge how you’re doing at the moment. He’s still Nanami

“You like that Princess?” “Beg for me.” “Tell me what you want,” All phrases that pop up commonly in your bedroom

He’s a panty snatcher, there I said it. He’s taking your panties with him when he leaves your place. You can get them back the next time you two get together. 

He is prone to taking out his frustration on you in the bedroom when he’s had a bad day.

Not that you're complaining, nothing like his thick cock splitting you open after a rough day, amiright?

Public sex. Nanami loves covertly fucking you, in various ways, and watching you try to keep your composure. Be it him finger fucking you under the table, or reminding you that you have guests downstairs while he rails you in your bedroom, he likes to test your volume control.

In a similar vein, phone sex! He’s away on “Business” a lot, so late nights on the phone with you are basically a necessity for him. 

M A R K I N G. You think it’s  childish? He doesn’t fucking care he needs EVERYON to know you’re together

Hickies everywhere, dark ones that don’t budge for days, even weeks

Brat tamer. No, I won't explain, look at him. 

He’s probably the best dom, even if he is a softer dom. He's going to discuss your hard and soft limits, safe word, and discuss the red yellow green system. Your comfort and safety is his number one priority. 

Going hand in hand with that, Nanami has mastered the art of aftercare. Anything you need, he’s got, anything you need him to do, he’s doing. He’s showering you in words of affirmation while trying to rehydrate you.

Also He’s cuddly. He wants you to fall asleep resting on his chest while he traces lazy patterns in your back. It’s his ideal way to go to sleep.

Ryomen Sukuna

My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to God

BESTIE idk how many different ways I can tell you not to go near this man, but let's find out

For one, he’s incredibly selfish, prioritizing his pleasure over yours every time. 

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t at least try to get you off though. Nay nay, getting you off is a part of his pleasure. Because it strokes his ego. 

Daycraphillia. Be it from pleasure or pain, he loves to see your tear soaked face.

This man is PACKING btw. It hurts at first everytime no matter how ready you are for him. The king of curses has the dick to back up all the shit he talks, you can’t convince me otherwise

He’s got four hands and he’s gonna use them all. Fingers in your pussy, on your tits, in your mouth, in on your ass. You're going to feel like you’re drowning in him.

Degradation. You're a filthy little whore, the only thing you’re good for is being a hole for him to fuck.

Does he actually mean this? I mean…shit, maybe! Depends on where you’re at in the relationship honestly. 

He will summon mouths in random places when fucking you. On his palms, above his cock, anywhere. Be prepared to feel a random tongue in random places.

…..breeding kink.

Honestly, I don’t think he’s proud of it. But something in him wants to fuck an heir into more than he wants to breath.

Also, blood and marking kink. These go hand in hand as far as he’s concerned. He will bite you until you bleed with no issue. 

He may not truly love you yet but the moment he stuck his dick in you, you became his. Which means no other man can touch you. Hence why he clearly marks you as his.

Aftercare who? He doesn’t know her, you’re lucky if he doesn’t immediately kick you out of the bed when he’s done. 

The exception being if you somehow managed to rope him into a “real” relationship. I still don’t think he’d be an aftercare king or anything, but he would at least cuddle with you until you passed out. 

Sukuna likes to find your limits, and then push you past them. He needs to see how far you’re willing to go for him, even if that breaks you.

God, this mf is so toxic. Why do I love him?

[moonshynecybin]

short fic (~1000 words ish) i wrote inspired by @kingofthering's wonderful fake dating au which you can find here ! go read it... anyways thinking about valentino and anger and his love languages and his insane little brain and PERFORMANCEEE and fame being a nightmare. anyways:

“And so my question, I suppose, is about your previous comments about Marc— would you say that you’ve put your feud behind you?”

Vale feels Marc shift from one foot to the other, his shoulders tensing under the lazy stretch of Vale’s arm. He’d tucked him there as soon as they’d entered the room, hoping the physical contact would sell it a bit more— give the two of them something to fall back on in front of the press— make their answers more convincing. Pictures sell faster than words, in his experience. But he shouldn’t have worried, Marc’s media training is a well exercised muscle, and his usual wide smile is pasted across his face. He’s good at this, but Vale may be the only person in the room who can tell how nervous he actually is, his slight change in posture and the rigid line of his jaw giving him away. Valentino is not exactly at ease, himself. It's the first time in quite a while that a press conference has made him feel like he was about to vomit.

Camera flashes light up in a dazzling flurry, pulling Vale back into the present. The entire room is holding its breath, paying careful attention to their answer, dying to know how two of the biggest stars in motorsport went from hating each other to being photographed together with one of them on their knees in the span of a calendar year. Sharks smelling chum in the water.

So Vale makes himself laugh, open and gregarious. Does what he does best— make it into something funny. Something that can’t touch him. Bring everyone else in on how hilarious it is, how absurd. Because if he thinks about it too long he feels like smashing things. He cannot fucking believe the nerve of this reporter. Cannot believe he has to do this. Cannot believe that Yamaha had asked him to let Marc do this alone. Cannot believe he thought about letting him. Cannot believe they’re pretending that they’re— that they—

“I would hope so! It would make being together very difficult otherwise.” He says, light enough to be a joke, gesturing between Marc and him. Marc’s hand tightens on his waist, catching against the smooth fabric of his Yamaha shirt. It’s the first verbal confirmation of what they said in their joint press release— that they’ve been dating. That they are together. That sometime in the off-season they’d reconciled and fell in love.

Of course, that’s not exactly what happened. It’s just harder to explain to the world that the sex you’ve been having with your rival 14 years your junior has been— well. Decidedly closer to something like hate sex than the kind of sex you have with a person that you’re in a committed relationship with. And that a lucky paparazzo had simply been in the right alleyway at the right time. And that Marc and him had barely been on speaking terms before the photo had hit the front page of every major publication in the world.

So here they are.

“And what about last year’s championship? Do you still hold the same opinion about Marc and Jorge Lorenzo's actions at the end of the year?” Another journo asks.

Vale pushes down the wave of emotion, hot and tense—embarrassed—that crests in his chest when he thinks about last year. That’s not what he’s here to do. He grits his teeth, instead. Keeps on smiling. He turns a little, uses the height difference between him and Marc to smile down at him, face close to his, and really sell it. The perfect couple. He winks back at the press.

“It sounds like you all want me to sleep on the couch!” He tries, and the tension in the room breaks, laughter tittering up from the press corp. A bomb defused. “No no no no, Marc and I, we are fine. We are better than fine, even! We are—“ He looks back at Marc, still too close, and pauses when he sees something complicated and delicate playing over his face. Something a little too real to be acting. But Marc quashes it when he sees Vale looking, and turns back towards the room, grin huge and polite. Vale’s words catch in his chest and tangle there for a moment, coming out a little stilted. He covers it with a theatrical shrug and a big smile. “We are good.”

As the press laugh, Marc’s shoulders unspool where they’re pressed against Vale—and he can tell Marc is relaxing, a little. Letting out some of whatever breath he’s been holding. It’s clear that what they’re doing, what Vale is saying, it’s working– the press swaying back to their side as they absorb the news, the shock of the two of them together. The picture they make.

Vale rubs a thumb over the bone of Marc’s shoulder. He's warm. 

Marc starts to speak. “You know, that is in the past. Valentino and I…” He searches for the words in English, brings a hand up to fiddle with his ear– one of his nervous tics. “We had a not so good relationship at the end of last year. But in the off-season, we talk. And learn to separate on-track and off-track. It is good between us.”

And Vale just about can’t stand that, even though he knows this is the plan. He can’t very well smooth this photo thing over and air his grievances at the same time. Doing this is the path of least resistance, he remembers. He tells himself. The one most palatable to the masses– him and Marc, united. Love overcomes all, he thinks bitterly. 

A journalist picks their head up.

“So it’s serious between you two, then? This is for real?”

Vale looks at Marc again, watches the slight flutter of his eyelashes, blinking as the question hits him. Vale wonders what he’s thinking about. If he’s wondering why they’re doing this, now in front of the whole world. If he’s asking himself how they let it get this far. Wondering why he got to his knees in that alleyway when Vale had told him to. Why he’d raced Vale the way he had the entire second half of last season. 

Marc’s smile dims, just for a second, and Vale pulls him closer.

He crushes the instinct to crack a joke just for Marc, to make him smile for real. To ask him why he’d had that look on his face a moment ago. To ask him to come to his trailer later just to– talk. Not to strategize with their PR teams, with their families. To just– be. Like it was before.

But that’s just not the kind of lives they lead. That’s not possible.

Valentino turns back to the press. Smiles. Lies.

“It’s real.”

[hanmaitani]

Pretty Neighbor

PAIRING - Kita Shinsuke x Reader WC - 5.6K GENRE - Slight angst (not with Kita) CW - copious amount of lead up, shitty breakup with an unnamed ex, Suna is an instigative little shit, a creepy neighbor, brief mention of minor injury SYNOPSIS - This wasn't how it was supposed to go. You weren't supposed to feel stuck after a bad breakup, crashing in the spare room of your best friend's older brother. But one of his neighbors starts to make you feel a little alive again. Leadup to part two.

A/N: if you wonder how I envisioned this apartment setup

PART 2

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. How anything was supposed to be.

Tomorrow you were supposed to be moving in with the boy you thought you would be spending the rest of your life with. But one week ago, he had decided that you were never going to work out.

He decided; on his own.

He had places to go. You? You weren’t sure yet.

So here you were, sitting on the floor of what had been both of your house, now empty spare the last of both of your stuff, calling the one friend you thought might be able to help.

“Thanks for calling, please don’t. Send a text. What are we? 80?”

You rolled your eyes and waited for the tone indicating that you could leave your message.

“Sunarin, come on. I know you hate calling when it could be a text. You know I know that. You know I don’t call unless its something that shouldn’t be texted.” You sighed softly, trying to keep the tears out of your voice. You took another shaky breath in, “Could you just call—”

Your phone vibrated in your hand and you glanced at the screen, “thank you.” You tapped quickly on the notification reading ‘accept and hang up’ and pressed the phone back to your ear.

“What d’ya want?” His voice was muffled and you could tell that his mouth was full of something.

You sniffed lightly, “He left me, Rin.” You were met with mostly silence but you could hear the sound of wood dropping against wood. Him putting down his chopsticks.

“The fuck do you mean he left you?” His voice was clear now, it was clear his attention was now fully on you. “For the weekend? The night?” The only thing filling the silence was your sniffles for a moment. He said your name softly to get your attention back.

You could feel the tears fill your eyes slightly. “For good," you finally answered. "That’s what he said. I think it was the truth.” You heard a sigh from the other end of the line, followed by a series of angry grumbles. “Can I crash on your couch until I get back on my feet?”

“Idiot.” He mumbled, you could almost see him rolling his eyes at you. “Why are you even asking? Fuck the couch, you can crash in the second bedroom, lucked out and don’t have a roommate. It’s yours for as long as you need.”

“I won’t be there long, I promise.” You muttered, trying to keep the sound of crying out of your voice, knowing you wouldn’t hear the end of it if he could hear it. “I swear I’m putting in housing applications and I’ll—”

“You’re annoying, shutup.” You felt a small smile tug at your lips, he wouldn’t change, at least that was comforting. “Come pick up your key in like," he paused for a second and you could almost picture him leaning to stare at his kitchen clock, "an hour?”

You nodded before realizing that he couldn’t see you. Before you could correct yourself, and verbalize your agreement he spoke again, “you do know I can’t see you nodding, right?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Hey, but you caught on, right?” You heard a snort from the other line before you both fell quiet for a moment.

“Do you want me to kick his ass?”

You sighed and your voice cracked. “I just need a place to crash.”

The next day and a half consisted of you trying to convince Suna to let you just put your mattress in the spare room, nothing else, just a few boxes and a mattress on the floor. And him promptly and continuously convincing you to put more in. More and more until eventually it almost looked like you lived there.

You tried to leave almost no trace of yourself in the rest of the apartment, plants on the front doorstep, a pair of slippers by the front walkway, the only clues that you were there outside of your room.

Your room had filled up a little, a shelf holding a tv, a drawer nightstand, a closet half full. You’d tucked away your bathroom things into a corner shelf and some food and dishes into a drawer. Not even 10% of your things from a whole house fit into a small room.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Laying on your back on the carpet of the living room of an apartment that wasn’t yours as Suna cooked both of you dinner in the kitchen.

“You have to eat, what do you want?” Suna's voice floated to you from around the corner in the kitchen.

“Ice cream.”

“That’s not food.” He called back. You rolled your eyes and glanced towards the kitchen. You could see his shadow moving across the dining room as he tried to dig in his fridge for food to make the two of you.

“How do we feel about pasta tonight? Got this recipe that Osamu sent over that we could try.” You glared at his shadow. Pasta sounded really good and you hated that he thought of it. “Don’t act like you’re not in love with pasta, I remember from high school.”

“You don’t know me.” You grumbled like a stubborn child from your spot on the floor. You heard a scoff come from the kitchen as you propped yourself up to a sitting position.

“Sure, you only spent, what? 90% of your time at my house with my little sister. But I don’t know you.” You rolled your eyes at him again even though you knew he couldn’t see you. “Go get more of your stuff from your car, bum, I’ll start the food.”

You sighed in annoyance but pulled yourself off the ground anyways, dragging your feet towards the door where you could slide on your slippers. “I’ll be right back, if I don’t get killed.” He barked out a laugh but ignored you as you unlocked the door and stepped out.

You sighed as you shut the door behind yourself, your steps slowing as you made your way down the stairs that led to Suna’s front door. There were a few kids running around the patch of grass that acted as the center of the small apartment complex. Their laughter and chasing made you smile as they tried to take advantage of the dimming sunlight.

Suna had told you that the tenants of his apartments were largely made up of students and recent graduates but that there were a couple families living there. Living right on the edge of the apartments meant you never had to deal with the kids running into your way or with even seeing them from your windows. Most of your windows were covered by trees anyways.

But in moments like this, when you were feeling down and walking the short distance to where your car was parked, seeing them laugh and run so freely brought you a sense of peaceful nostalgia. A longing for the days when you didn’t feel the need to have it all figured out, when you could just laugh and play and your biggest concern was if your mom would force you to eat your vegetables when you got in.

Back in the days when you weren’t aware of the other concerns you should have. When you didn’t get the rug pulled out from under you by a boy who decided randomly to drop you when you’d made him a priority and planned at least your next few years around staying with him.

You scowled as your thoughts turned sour—your nose scrunching up. You bit the inside of your cheek and huffed as you reached your car, easily pulling open the trunk to assess what you had the energy to bring up with you at this moment.

There was a backpack full of random things you’d originally missed, an extra pillow, an extra pair of sneakers—the only pair you brought actually, and a box of cookies you’d impulsively bought yourself this afternoon after 'officially' leaving the house. You huffed as you piled your things into your arms. One item at a time.

You glared at the box of cookies, taunting you from its spot on your car’s seat. You wouldn’t be able to grab it and still open the door. You’d have to come back.

You sighed as you bumped your hip against your car’s back door to close it before rounding to the back. Leaning up on your tiptoes, you reached your free arm up to curl your fingertips over the edge of the trunk door and pull it back down. Adjusting the items in your arms you started your way back to Suna’s apartment.

You hummed along to a tune stuck in your head as you walked carefully, trying to not drop anything as you trekked towards the stairs. The sound of a car door closing pulled your attention over to the parking lot. You glanced over your shoulder as you watched a man ducking to grab a bag out of his back seat.

Carefully tracking him with your eyes, you kept walking. He started to lean up and you saw the top of his head first, grayish hair coming into view. As he leaned up further you noticed the ends of his hair were a different color, black to be exact. You tilted your head. What an interesting choice.

As he started to straighten out, your ignorance caught up to you. Your toe caught on a raised piece of concrete and your eyes widened as your feet stumbled. You flipped your head back to facing forward and struggled to keep your things in your arms as you rebalanced yourself.

You cursed as you dropped one of your shoes. You glared at the shoe for a second before huffing as you bent at your knees to reach it, careful to not let anything else tumble from your arms as you replaced the shoe in the stack.

“Evenin’.” You looked up, blinking in shock as you slowly straightened up, to see the man you had just been staring at standing only a few steps from you. He looked pretty, shiny hair that the last rays of sun bounced off of, shiny brown eyes carefully watching you move. Oh. He was very pretty.

You swallowed nervously and cleared your throat. “Evenin’.” You let out a closed lipped smile and watched the corner of his lips tug in return. The weight of his eyes on you felt heavy, feeling like he witnessed your every move and quickly moved to resume your previous movements.

You took the last few steps towards the stairs and quickly scaled them. Willing the door that shared a porch with Suna’s door, just a couple feet to the right from our door, to not open so you could avoid more possible interaction.

You shifted the things in your arms and reached for the doorknob, twisting to glance back over your shoulder as you did to see the pretty stranger. Or, pretty neighbor? He seemed to have lingered where you both had been for a moment because he was only a couple of paces from it now, walking leisurely towards the stairs just to the left of Suna’s apartment. You willed yourself to look away before you got caught acting like a creep and pushed your way inside the apartment.

You sighed as your shoe tumbled back out of your arms and glared at it again. “Stop dropping stuff.” Suna teased, rounding the corner of the kitchen to see you in the front hall, slipping your slippers off. You glanced up at him, his bangs falling on either side of his face as his yellow eyes squinted at you playfully, smirk pulling on his lips. “Didja get all your stuff out?”

“Nope.” You popped the p and pulled your shoe back into your arms again. “Met a neighbor though.” You tilted your head in thought, “well, kind of. Didn’t actually get a name. Just said hi.” You hummed and shrugged your shoulders as you started towards the hall that led to the rooms. “I think I’m gonna set up a couple things while I wait for your ass to finish my food.”

He scoffed and flicked his eyes up to the ceiling in a half-assed eye roll before dipping back into the kitchen. “Now you want food. Gonna make me into a regular housewife, huh?” He laughed as he raised his voice so you could still hear him as you got further into the house. “Careful now, gonna make Mizu fall in love with ya if you convert me like that.” You snorted as you kicked your door shut behind you.

You sighed as you looked around the room, nothing was organized or put together. Your entire bedding was piled on the bed, other random things piled with it, a box of cords at the very end. Looking at the fading light, you realized that you’d forgotten your room lamp back at the house, suddenly grateful that you’d have to go back the next day to finish the cleaning.

You opened your blinds to try and let the last of the sunlight in, illuminating the room best you could as you searched for something to light up your room. Swiping your phone open, you hit play on some music you could sing along to as you went about sifting through the box of electronics. 10 minutes later and you had your TV plugged in and some fairy lights strung up around the window. Enough for now.

You wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed. To let yourself rot into the mattress. You knew there was a fat chance in hell that Suna would ever let you hide away in you room the whole time. You sighed and went to work quickly on the rest of the room, clearing the bed and making it so that you could easily crawl into it once you were done with Suna’s mandatory socialization.

“Come on, I’ve got food for you.” Suna popped his head into your room easily, watching as you zoned out staring at the bed, pillows arranged in a specific way, the way that your boy- your ex-boyfriend had always liked it.

You shook your head and followed him back out of the room, following when he motioned for you to sit on the couch and set a warm bowl in your lap. You smiled down at the bowl of pasta, your favorite sauce spread across it and laughed a little as Suna pressed a pair of chopsticks into your hand.

“Here, eat, like this-” he teasingly began to adjust your hand to try and puppet your fingers into working the chopsticks properly.

“Fuck off before I stab you with these chopsticks.” He laughed but backed up and plopped down on the couch across from you.

“So what neighbor didja meet?” He asked, shoving his mouth full of food and chewing obnoxiously. You swore he did it just to get on your nerves.

“The one whose stairs are near my window.” He hummed in acknowledgement and mumbled something through a full mouth that you didn’t quite make out. “Huh?” You screwed up your face before taking another bite.

He swallowed his mouthful before talking again. “Nothin’.” He looked at you as you shoved another bite into your mouth, a look with narrowed eyes that tracked your movements easily, a look you knew meant he was analyzing you.

“So, Mizu’s got some guy friends, I’m thinkin’ we could get you some numbers, you could pick your rebound?”

You stopped halfway through putting a bite in your mouth and stared at him in disbelief. You pulled the bite back out of your mouth and let it fall back into the bowl, an act you’d be ashamed of yourself for doing if you were in front of anyone besides him.

“You’re joking.” His silence and expecting stare made you realize he was not, in fact, joking with you. “No. Absolutely not.” You rolled your eyes and resumed eating.

“Don’t say that! It could be good for you!” He exclaimed, waving a hand around at you. You shook your head, knowing that this wouldn’t be the end of this conversation tonight, or for your entire stay.

It was late when Suna finally let you go to sleep, his chatter and constant jokes, skirting around the topic of your now ex, trying to convince you to find someone you could 'use maybe a couple times and then drop.'

You knew it was his way of making sure when you went into your room tonight that you would be going straight to sleep. That you would be too tired to cry or even think about the situation you were in. It somewhat worked.

It felt like you were waiting for everything. Waiting for an apartment application to come back or you would be stuck crashing on Rin’s couch. Waiting for the correct credentials to be posted for a new job or you would be stuck at the one you so desperately wanted to leave.

Waiting for the lost feeling to disappear or you would be stuck crying over the boy that was almost yours forever. Waiting and stuck.

Waiting and stuck.

That was how you were feeling in the morning, as you dragged yourself out of bed early. As you pulled on some workout clothes, the only ones you’d not thrown into temporary storage that you didn’t mind possibly ruining.

How you were feeling as you skipped breakfast, settling on only grabbing your water bottle, and pulled your shoes on at your door. How you felt as you trudged to the car in the cold, telling yourself that while you were working on cleaning your old house the whole day, you would thank yourself for wearing a t-shirt and shorts, even if it was frigid this morning.

That was how you felt when you nearly ran straight into a neighbor.

As you were silently cursing yourself for not looking up as you walked, the sudden stop and step back that came from both your feet as a result of a near collision. You glanced up and were met with the same warm eyes you’d seen last night. The same attractive neighbor that you had embarrassed yourself in front of, twice, now.

“Mornin’.” He gave you a kind smile as he looked down at you.

You found yourself rushing out a “mornin’” as well but dashing away before he could say anything else.

A glance over your shoulder proved that he hadn’t stayed in place for long, moving to his car, placing his bag into the same seat you’d seen him pull it out of the day before. You sighed as you got in your car, stupid cute neighbor.

Your sour mood had lifted a little with the sound of his small drawl, his accent seeping through in just a single word. His deep voice had left you with a warm feeling in your body but you chalked it up to the fact that you kept embarrassing yourself in front of him.

Shaking your head at yourself, you quickly queued up a playlist for the day and plugged in the aux. Pulling out of the parking lot easily, you started your way towards your old house.

It was the last day you were required to be there, your last day to be able to clean the place from the disaster that your roommates and now ex-boyfriend had left you alone to deal with. Your mood mostly stood on the lines of exasperated for the first couple of hours, irritation flooding your veins the more that you had to clean.

And three hours in, when it started to rain outside, you cursed yourself for the outfit decision. And then you cursed the sky for picking up on your bad mood and deciding that the weather needed to match.

Your ex graced you with his presence for a few hours - three to be precise. You counted them. Praying that he’d act slightly torn up for ditching you out of the blue like he was. That he’d show some sign of care that you weren’t going to be around to do things for him anymore, the laundry, the finances, the cleaning and grocery shopping.

And then the wave of irritation hit as you realized... what the hell had he done for you?

You’d glared daggers into his back for the majority of the time he was there. As he tried to be friendly, make jokes with you. And when he was leaving, when you still had to stay and continue cleaning, that’s when the fresh wave of sadness hit. As he hugged you, talking like he wasn’t going to see you again, giving you a kiss on the forehead, his posture dangerously close to that of when he used to dip down to kiss you.

You watched him drive away and sat on the ground for the next half hour, in the rain and crying.

When you finally pulled yourself off the ground again, going back to cleaning, you tried to let irritation seep back into your veins, an easier emotion to deal with than the flurry of others you felt. All you wanted was to get back to Rin’s and collapse.

You were at the house for a total of 13 hours that day. Not even finished by the end of it but content with the work you’d done and the effort you'd put in to try and finish. It was almost 11pm when you were dragging yourself to your car for the last time, the last of your things loaded up, fresh bruises coating your body and a couple gashes across your legs that had dirt and dried blood caked into them.

Your entire body was begging to be cleaned and go to sleep.

Suna wasn’t there when you got back. You knew that the second you pulled up. His car missing from the spot next to where you’d been parking your car.

The achy feeling quickly taking over your body was left ignored as you pulled a few of your items out of your car, choosing carefully what could wait until tomorrow. Your eyes subconsciously scanned for the cute neighbor even though you weren’t exactly expecting him to be out at this time.

You were pleasantly surprised to see him a few doors down, smiling as he helped an elderly woman carry her groceries to her apartment. You were also pleased that he didn’t seem to notice you and that you hadn’t been three for three for embarrassing yourself when you saw him.

Making sure to lock the door after yourself when you entered the empty apartment, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. The realization that you’d never be back in that house was weighing heavy on your shoulders, along with the grime and wounds (both physical and mental) of the day.

Nothing sounded better to you than a shower and with Rin not being home, you could take one without worrying he might need to use the bathroom while you were using it. A shower and then immediately you would go to sleep, be productive again tomorrow.

The next morning you let yourself sleep in. Well, not exactly sleep in, but let yourself stay in bed without forcing yourself to get up.

The window in your room let light filter in slowly instead of all at once, your body unaccustomed to no longer having blackout curtains hanging. The cold morning air brushed over your skin and you were reminded that you had gone to sleep clad only in a pair of shorts after your shower.

You stayed in bed for most of the day. Left to go grab a few things from your car and bring them up, put them in their places. Grabbed a snack from the kitchen. Suna being at classes and work most of the day meant no one was there to lecture you when most of your time was spent scrolling though your phone in bed.

You told yourself that you could be an adult again tomorrow.

You were; an adult the next day that is.

You pulled yourself out of bed, finished unloading your car, cleaning Suna’s spare bedroom up. And then, deciding to keep busy, kept cleaning. Did all the dishes in Suna’s sink and swept his floors, vacuumed the carpets. When you were done with that you couldn’t bring yourself to sit back in bed, as much as you wanted to. You’d settled on loading your laptop into its bag and gathering up your laundry basket to head down to the complex’s laundry mat.

You switched between watching shows off your laptop and using it to organize things for your hopeful new job as your laundry ran. Typing out to do lists and not berating yourself when you accidentally let your laundry sit in the machine a little long sometimes.

When you were finally finished and were packing up, the sun had started to pull its light from the sky. It was still plenty bright, but you could tell it was evening now. Suna would be home soon and you’d love to be there when he saw his apartment clean.

Your proud and productive mood came to an abrupt halt; a tight feeling wrapping in your chest as you neared the stairs to Suna’s apartment and there was a figure sitting on the bottom of the stairs.

It wasn’t anyone you recognized, and he’d left enough space where you could possibly squeeze by, but the sudden nerves that ran through your body were enough to keep you from even attempting to do that. Your steps slowed at the prospect of having to talk to a complete stranger wrecked your nerves and you cursed yourself when your voice came out meeker than expected.

“Excuse me, sir, if I could get by?” He’d already been looking at you before you’d spoke and you were now just a few feet away from him.

“Yeah.” Your relief at his words was fleeting as you quickly realized that, despite his affirmative, he was making no move himself out of the way.

“Sorry, I just have to get up the stairs.” The nerves wound tighter in your chest, uneasiness making you queasy as you adjusted your grip on your laundry basket.

“Go ahead.” He said, staring straight at you. It felt like a challenge and it wasn’t one you were willing to take.

“I don’t want to accidentally hit you, if you wouldn’t mind just for a moment—” you were trying to be nice, to keep your voice steady as your hands shook but he cut you off.

“Are you saying I can’t take a hit?” His volume raised slightly, he clearly looked irritated now. “I can take a hit; I’ve been hit before.” You opened your mouth to try and calm him down but someone from behind you replied for you.

“S’common cour’sy.” The voice was deep and held a threatening air to it. You jumped slightly at the suddenness of it but were steadied with a burning hand on your upper arm, making sure you didn’t get closer to the man on the stairs.

You looked up a caught a glimpse of gray and black hair - the cute neighbor. His usually kind eyes were fixed in a glare at the man in front of you both. His touch was light on your arm, gentle as he guided you to take a step back and he stepped in front of you.

“Yer only a couple complaints ‘way from getting’ kicked outta ‘ere. Watch yerself.” His deep voice was intimidating, calm, his words spoken with a matter-of-fact tone. Sure of himself. “Jus’ let the pre’y lady pass.”

Your cheeks burned at the use of ‘pretty lady’ to describe you, coming from the man you’d deemed ‘pretty neighbor.’ The burning was dull in comparison to the anxiousness you were feeling when the man from the stairs stood up, however.

“I don’t like the tone you’re asking in.”

The pretty neighbor seemed almost unphased. He stepped closer to the man, forcing him to step slightly away from the stairs. “Wasn’ askin’.” Almost unphased except for his voice coming out a little deeper than before, slightly darker tone, though still calm.

The pretty neighbor adjusted his stance, hand guiding you to stay behind him as he cleared a path to the stairs for you, now blocking the man from both you and the stairs. A small breath of relief washed over you as you quickly moved towards your now free path.

“Thank you.” You whispered it into his ear as you passed behind him, smiling as he gave you a short nod without taking his eyes from the man in front of him. You made your way up the stairs eager to escape the rising voice of the man you’d just met who was still being blocked by the pretty neighbor that you had now embarrassed yourself in front of all three times he’d seen you.

You locked the door behind you quickly, deadbolting it as well as you quickly retreated into the apartment. You dropped your laundry in your room and decided that a cup of water would probably ease the tightness in your chest that had been caused by the creepy man you’d just met.

You’d barely taken a sip when the handle to the front door started to wriggle. You stared, wide-eyed, frozen in place as fear started to take over. You swore you’d break the glass with how tight your grip had gone when the door creaked open.

“So I’m guessin’ you met the creep next door.” Suna’s voice reached your ears and you breathed out a sigh of relief, legs falling from under you as you moved to sit on the ground.

“Woah,” he held one hand up as the other shut and locked the door behind him, “he must’ve been a real weirdo today.” Suna set his bag down easily and walked over to you, crouching down in front of you with a head tilt. “What happened?”

You sighed as you looked up at him, his eyes held concern even though he seemed to radiate a relaxed demeanor. “Just wouldn’t let me pass to come up the stairs, I don’t know just was super weird.” He scoffed and shook his head. “You should’ve warned me.”

“Didn’t think I had to!” He exclaimed defensively, but helped you back to your feet carefully nonetheless. “Haven’t seen him in what feels like months, thought maybe he finally croaked.”

“Real sensitive of ya, Rin.” You rolled your eyes at him and went to take another sip of water.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hand dismissively as he moved to leave the dining room where you stood and head off to his room. “Hey, y/n?” You looked up easily at the small change in his voice, softer and a little concerned.

“Just be careful ‘round him, he shares a porch with us. Make sure you’re carrying something to protect yourself if you come home late at night.” You swallowed hard at the implications but nodded in acknowledgment. He let a soft smile pass his face before he disappeared around the corner again.

The next few days around the apartments, you picked up working again. Long shifts, anything to distract yourself. You also found yourself peeking out your window, trying to catch a glimpse of the cute neighbor coming or going. You did a few times, always admiring the soft smiles he gave. He radiated a kind sort of energy while looking so put together.

He was very constant, you noticed after a few days. Leaving at the same time in the mornings, where you would briefly pass him on your way out as well, a small 'mornin’' passed between the two of you as you noticed each other. Always coming home just before dark, pulling his bag out of the same spot in his car. And the sun always left a ridiculously attractive shine on his gray and black hair.

You found yourself thinking about him every time Suna tried to convince you that one of Mizuki’s friends would be interested in ‘showing you a good time.’ Always declining Suna’s offers to set you up but secretly thinking about how nice it would be to finally know the name of the pretty neighbor.

It’s not like you were thinking about using him as your way to get over your ex, he was just... genuinely nice. He left you feeling warm and the idea of how constant he was, it was appealing. He wasn’t too awful to look at either. You cursed yourself every time those thoughts popped into your head though.

You couldn’t pretend that Suna’s offers didn’t get to you though. He made some solid points sometimes. Like how it wouldn’t hurt to be a little sexually active.

Coming out of a long relationship, you were used to being sexual active, but you didn’t want to use anybody so you resolved to take care of it yourself. Rin leaving for his weekly date night with Mizuki meant that he wouldn’t be back until late, if at all, tonight.

It meant that you had the perfect excuse to put a show on my tv and some headphones over your ears and to take care of it.

a/n sighs. rewriting this was a walk down memory lane. i first wrote this as i was going through this exact situation - except it was a female friend whose apartment i stayed in and she did not have a pretty neighbor who saved me from dealing with the creepy neighbor aha. anywho... part two next week <3

TAGLIST - OPEN

@tsukiran @awkwardaardvarkforever @all-in-the-fandoms @mightyknight501

[beefrobeefcal]

Catfish to BigFish feat. Dark!Frankie Morales

Summary: Boston. The Frontiersmen is a crime syndicate that deals in drugs, arms, and anything else they can to keep themselves on top. But how did Frankie 'Catfish' Morales, the coke-addicted, lanky mess of a man become its leader? And where did the moniker 'BigFish' come from?

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 2,283 | 3+/- years before OTWF begins

Content Warning: threats of violence, crime, violence, betrayal, Big Fish is a bad man in the making, character death, allusions to drug use, swearing, choking, punching, eating, comments on body, weight gain, friendship but at what cost?, Tom is a bag of smashed assholes

Author's Notes: this is a prequel showing us the how, what, why, and where roughly three years before Honey comes into the picture in Chapter One: Signed and Sealed. The biggest, juiciest, wettest thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for brainstorming this with me and to @strang3lov3 and @noxturnalpascal for their love and eyes. Pour one out for @xdaddysprincessxx - she will need all the hydration she can get.

On the Waterfront Masterlist

“If it were anyone else…”, Tom warned. 

“Yeah, we know. But it’s not. It’s Fish. He’s one of us.”

Pope sat back and watched Will do something none of them thought they’d have to do – convince Tom to give a shit.

“He’s a fuckin’ coke head! Snortin’ our own shit and lyin’ about it!”, Tom boomed, standing over Will. “You ran the fuckin’ numbers, you can see how much money we lost up his fuckin’ nose! And now you wanna spend more money tryin’ to get that fucker clean again?”

Will didn’t bend. He didn’t shrink and he didn’t back down. “It’s Frankie. Catfish. Our Catfish. And he needs help.”

Tom huffed harshly enough in Will’s face that his hair moved, then turned his ire to Pope. 

“You think Fish’s worth it? Already cost us a shit load of money and Will wants to blow more on that fuckhead.”

Pope slipped into his smooth and nonchalant voice and crossed his arms. He’d hoped this would give Tom the impression that he was just as unnerved and steadfast as Will.

“You know he’d do the same thing for any of us.”

“Fuckin’ altruistic bullshit!”, Tom barked, slamming his fist on the table. 

Pope felt his blood heating up and his jaw tightening. Will looked over at him quickly, his blue eyes ice cold and angry, and then back to Tom. 

“I disagree. He’s just as much my brother as Benny is. Or you, or Santi. He’s family and I’ll get’m help as many times as possible. And you know what you’re sayin’s bullshit-“

“Fuck you and your fuckin’ family values dog shit! You and I both know that he’s gonna get clean, last a week or two, then shit’s gonna start goin’ missing again and he’s gonna be right back to bein’ the fuckin’ crypt keeper he looks like now! He’s not gonna change. We need to cut him loose and let him kill himself. He made his choice, Will! Admit it - Fish ain’t worth it!”

Will stood up and moved close to Tom, almost nose to nose. Yeah, Tom was bigger, stronger even, but Will was precise and skilled in a way that seeing him square up like that scared Pope. He unfolded his arms and stepped forward. 

“Hey! Hold up! We’re not gonna do th-“

“You’re supposed to be our leader – our fuckin’ captain.”, Will seethed lowly. “I’m not gonna take orders from some mother fucker who decides to ‘cut loose’ one of our own. Fish needs our help and fuck you for turnin’ your back on’ im.”

Tom glared at Will. “Fine.”, he spat, then dug his index finger in Will’s chest. “But when he he fuckin’ OD’s, it’s on you!”

*****

It felt like more than 90 days when Pope rolled up in front of the rehab centre to pick up Frankie, and when he saw him standing outside, waiting for him, he frowned. Not because he wasn’t glad to see him looking better and fuller, but because this was the third time he had picked Frankie up from a stint in rehab. 

Frankie pulled open the passenger door and slid in, not daring to look up. 

“Fish…”, Pope broke the silence as he put the car in drive. “You look good - ”

“How mad is he this time?”, Frankie interjected.

Pope sighed, knowing exactly how mad Tom was that the Frontiersmen funded another one of Frankie’s stays in an expensive treatment centre. The fact that Tom could be mad at Frankie for this used to baffle him, but by this time - the third time – he could at least see where Tom was coming from. It didn’t sway his growing dislike of their leader though. 

“You keep clean, and he won’t have a reason to be pissed.”

“Fuck… Santi… I try, and – “

“Just shut the fuck up and keep clean, Frank.” Pope snapped, cutting Frankie off in turn. “Besides, I have something in mind to keep you motivated.”

All Frankie could do was nod, despite not knowing what Pope could offer as motivation. He never wanted to relapse, but the call was too sweet, too enticing, for him to stay away too long. He’d said this the day before while he was going through the exit procedure and the facilitator just shrugged and said, “Find something else to get high on then.” 

*****

Less than two months after Frankie came back to the compound, Tom was dead. 

Pope had walked down the hallway to the office where Will waited, and he pushed open the door. Will had looked up, expecting to see Tom, and when he saw Pope instead, blood on his hands and splattered on his body and face, and wide eyed, he stood up, confusion etched on his face.

“Santiago… what the fuck is goin’-“

“He’s dead.”

Will dropped the file folder he held precariously and moved quickly to Pope’s side as he sat heavily in one of the armchairs. He wiped his hand over his face, smudging the semi-dried blood, and he sighed.

“Who’s dea- “

“Tom… Tom’s dead. He’s fuckin’ dead, Will.”

“Santi.”, Will said in a low, controlled voice that just barely masked the panic writhing below. “What happened?”

“I… I was… I didn’t…”, Pope paused, trying to find a way to confess. Instead, his conscience was silenced by his ego, and he found himself lying without even really thinking. “He was… taken out by… by the Gutierrez gang… those fuckers… they ambushed him, Will.”

Pope looked up at Will, daring to see if what he said even sounded feasible. To Will, Pope’s wide, frightened eyes convinced him to ignore the itch at the back of his brain, needling him to probe further.

“I was… I was with him when he… I found him before he died. He was fuckin’ babbling some shit… who was supposed to take over…”

Will’s eyes narrowed subtly, but enough for Pope to register. He knew he couldn’t say he was the one Tom wanted; it would be too suspicious. And he couldn’t say Will because that would give him full control - something Pope truly believed would be his own downfall. 

“He wanted Fish…”

*****

Frankie was a half a year sober – actually, really, fully, no-word-of-a-lie sober – and had been the head of the Frontiersmen for just shy of four months. He’d spent the last six months trying to find a new vice that wouldn’t render him a liability and bankrupt the organization. He was just barely making an impact as the new leader; no one took him seriously. He was skinny and quiet. Only his inner circle knew how violent and dangerous he could be, but even then, they knew he really had to be provoked to get him to that point.

Pope decided he had to do something. His plan to put Frankie in the captain’s chair was failing miserably, and he knew if he couldn’t land this, he would be sussed out. 

“Fish… come on… we’re going out for dinner.”, he said, slapping Frankie’s back.

He looked up at Pope, tired and miserable. “Why?”

“Because you need to eat. You’re skin and bones and no one wants to be led by a corpse.”

Frankie’s expression turned from confused to hurt as his shoulders dropped, feeling the weight of everyone’s expectations gnaw at his sobriety. He carried this somber aura all the way to the restaurant. 

*****

The dingy little Italian restaurant had a name – Marcello’s - and it became Frankie’s haven. It was nowhere near as festive or amazing as Benny had indicated. The way he raved about the place, Pope thought he was taking Frankie to a pasta titty bar paradise, and instead he found them in a mid-century dive with carpet and wood paneling on the walls. 

It wasn’t until the hostess came out from the bar to greet them that Pope understood exactly why Benny loved this place, and he understood it even more when they had their food served.  It had started out as once a week, then turned into almost every night. The effects of pasta, heavy cream sauces, and garlic bread we’re beginning to show on Frankie. Gone were the feeling of his ribs when Pope patted him on his back and gone were his sunken cheeks. Frankie had filled out and he was glad to see his friend looking better. 

That was, until he noticed something. Yeah, Frankie was clean from coke, but he seemed to have turned that same veracity that he’d once carried for the narcotic on to food. It used to be that Frankie could barely finish a frozen TV dinner, being able to stretch one over two meals. As Pope sat across from him at Marcello’s one Tuesday evening, he watched his friend plow through two whole plates of pasta in one sitting. Pope noticed that while Frankie ate, he seemed almost tranquil, serene.

He’d found something else to get high on.

There was a notable change in Frankie as he gained weight. The soft spoken, always amenable Frankie was slowly being enveloped by a bigger, meaner, and more vicious version of him. 

When he was thinner, Frankie could get lucky with women if he tried, but he wasn’t the most confident and rarely put himself out there. But as he grew, so did his self-esteem. He no longer sat back and accepted things as they were said to him – he questioned and even demanded answers, using his newfound size to intimidate if need be. If he saw something he liked, be it clothing, electronics, cars, he took it and gave no one a chance to say otherwise.

The legacy Tom left behind began to fade within the Frontiersmen as Frankie’s violence took centre stage. His quick temper and fists built a reputation; he was still quiet, but the silence he offered was no longer one of contemplation, it was one of simmering rage, liable to explode into violence at any moment. But this was within their group alone. No one outside of their crew took him seriously enough to even warrant giving him a foot in the door.

All of that changed one evening and Pope got a front seat to watch his plan to hide behind Frankie finally bear fruit. Catfish’s temper finally exploded on the right person to get the message out. 

Chuck, the leader of another group called the Golden Kings, had sat across from Frankie at a roundtable, hosted by one of the other gangs to broker agreements and territories. Chuck had taken every opportunity to remind everyone that Frankie was a junkie who used to pilfer his group’s own product to get high. When he stopped getting the reaction he wanted, Chuck moved onto Frankie’s weight, which had pretty well doubled since Tom’s death. 

Will, seated on the other side of Frankie, quietly said, “Let it go, Catfish.”

“Catfish?”, Chuck laughed cruelly. “Fuckin’ Catfish? Really? Fatfish is more like it. What happened, Morales? You eat your feelings ‘cause you can’t get high no more?”

Pope caught a glance at Frankie’s face which only could be described as dark and malevolent as a thunderclap. It unnerved him to see Frankie looking so dangerous around other people. It was one thing for him to beat one of their own for being a dipshit, but this was someone who wasn't below Frankie – he was ranks above him. Frankie sat, glaring across the table at Chuck, his elbows on the armrests and his hands tensely tenting his fingers.

It seemed that the rest of the men at the table could sense the electric tension between Frankie and Chuck. Dan Connor, leader of the Dead Rabbits and host for the evening, motioned to Frankie with a head nod. 

“Get it out, Morales. Can’t move on with you having a bitchfit at some name callin’.”

Pope knew none of these men took his friend seriously and it was either going to be Frankie using his keen negotiation tactics or Frankie showing off his newfound rage. 

The latter won. Frankie sat in silence as Chuck beat his mouth off at him, trying to get Frankie to react, to no avail. He didn’t speak; he just watched, letting Chuck keep talking, letting him fuel his violent rage even more, until it reached a tipping point. 

“You may be a big fish now, you fuckin’ goof, but you’re still a rat-faced junkie.”

It happened quickly. Frankie stood up and grabbed Chuck from across the table by his suit jacket lapel and pulled him to his side as his fist began beating into the man’s face over and over.

Chuck’s men stood up, but Dan Connor’s hand came out, motioning for them to sit. His own men waited for their cue to remove Frankie from Chuck, but Dan just watched in reverence.

The punching stopped and Chuck gurgled in pain, and Frankie wrapped his huge hands around Chuck’s throat and squeezed. 

“I am Big Fish, you fuckin’ cunt.”, he growled in a calm and low tone, then he spat on Chuck’s face.

Will looked at Frankie horrified, and Pope couldn’t help the grin that forced its way to his face. Dan finally motioned for his men to intervene, and it took all four to pry Frankie’s hands off the bloody, gasping mess that was Chuck. 

Chuck’s men moved to get their boss away from Frankie as he sat back in his chair, and nodded at Dan, signaling for him to continue. The room remained silent, save for the pathetic whining of Chuck in the hallway. Dan looked at Frankie, eyes narrowed, then finally he started laughing – hard.

“Fuckin’ BigFish Morales! Welcome to the table, asshole.”

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