#i have been exposed to some pretty fucking italian names

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I meet my newly assigned therapist today so frankly you should all wish her luck because lord only knows she's not feeling great walking into this and probably asked for supervision before even meeting me lmao

[raggedandrich]

Lent pt. 2

Continuation from Lent pt. 1, Robert struggles with keeping his vow.

Rating: M for Mature / Language, Gun Play, Dubcon

Robert is a week into Lent, grinding against anything in the house he can find. Unfortunately, Willem catches him.

“Should I invest in a spray bottle. If you’re restless, go for a jog or pick up a shift at the shop,” Willem says, putting cash into an envelope. He wets the seal with his tongue, slower than usual.

Robert whines and slumps over the back of the couch, wanting Willem’s hands all over him.

“If I cut a hole in this couch and fuck it, does it count?” Robert says, face presses against the expensive fabric.

“If you cut a hole in my couch, you can forget the whole trip,” Willem says, pocketing the envelope in his jacket and heading out the door.

“Do some yoga. That’ll loosen you up a bit,” Willem says, closing the door behind him.

Robert groans and it echoes through the house.

—

“I need someone to send this package to the Italians on Franklin, it’s urgent,” Willem says to a group of his underlings busying themselves with boxes and papers.

When none of them seem particularly interested, Robert perks up, having been sitting in the corner trying not to think about how badly he wants to clear the metal tables in the room and fuck Willem in front of his goons.

“I’ll go. I wanna stretch my legs, enjoy the good weather,” Robert says, standing and pushing back his hair and adjusting his open floral shirt and leather jacket.

Willem raises and eyebrow but hands over the package.

“Don’t let them feed you or you’ll never leave,” Willem throws over his shoulder as he heads into the next room to check inventory.

Robert carries the relatively light package down to Franklin Avenue, where one of the Italian fronts sits posed as a flower shop. He wasn’t sure what was in the package, since the mobs tend to stick to their own supply line but perhaps a deal was struck for a ring or pedant, maybe someone’s birthday.

Robert muses on the contents as he walks, managing not to think about his dick for several blocks. He arrives at Josephina’s in about 25 minutes. He pops his head into the shop and finds only a middle-aged woman sweeping. She must be the owner.

“They’re out back, in the alley, hon,” Josephine says.

He nods and walks around to the backside of the brick building, finding three men sitting on the porch slab smoking and playing cards.

“Are any of you Anthony?” Robert says, reading the name on the brown paper wrapping the box.

The tallest one nods, standing and pulling out a loaded money clip.

“Where’s Christopher, he usually makes the trades for your boss,” Anthony says, counting out the bills.

“Otherwise occupied, it’s the busy season. Hope you’re not to broken up about it,” Robert says, handing the package over and pocketing the cash and having Anthony sign a little receipt for Willem’s books.

The brawniest of the three stands squinting at Robert.

“Ain’t he The Magpie’s pretty boy? The one who chose no sex for Lent?” he asks.

“I think you’re right, Mikey. He does have a good face,” Anthony says, reaching out and grabbing Robert by the chin.

“What do you think, Gabriel?” Anthony asks the shortest of the three, who is giving Robert a once over.

“He has nice cheekbones. Could cut a watermelon with those. I bet he’s struggling. Doesn’t have access to his daddy’s dick. Poor thing must be starving,” Gabriel says, pinching Robert’s ass and making him shiver.

Having been deprived for 15 days without sex, Robert can’t deny how badly he wants to be touched. Even if it’s from three rivals in an alleyway behind a flower shop.

“I should be heading back, we’ve got a few meetings later today and I don’t wanna be late,” Robert says, stepping to squeeze passed the two larger men.

They block his path as Gabriel grabs Robert by the arms, hooking into his elbows and drawing them together behind his back. In this position, Robert’s chest juts out, widening the opening of his shirt to expose his nearly see-through tank top.

Anthony slides a hand up the damp fabric and over his stubbled chin.

“But I haven’t giving you your tip,” Anthony says, pressing two fingers passed Robert’s lips and scraping along his tongue.

Robert immediately retches and feels his mouth filling with saliva.

Anthony’s eyes sparkle as he turns to Michael.

“Seems Pretty Boy has a bit of a hair trigger on his gag reflex,” Anthony says, pushing down on Robert’s tongue and making the saliva spill over his fingers and onto his tank, making it even damper than it was before.

“Wonder how he’d handle one of these,” Michael says, pulling out a handgun from the back of his pants.

Robert’s misty eyes widen, shuddering all over at the sight of the long metal silencer affixed to its tip.

“Oh yeah, he’d be a mess,” Anthony says, taking the gun from Michael.

Making sure the safety is on, Anthony pushes the end of the barrel to Robert’s lips.

“Open wide, I wanna see you drooling on it,” Anthony says.

Gabriel peeks over Robert’s shoulder with a conflicted face.

“Do you wonder what the Don would do if he knew we were messing with the Magpie’s boy toy?” Gabriel pipes up.

“Probably give us a bonus?” Anthony says.

“Or better yet, what he’ll do himself if this guy rats on us?” Gabriel says.

Anthony stands, pursing his lips in contemplation.

“Maybe just one more gag and then we turn him loose,” Anthony says, pushing the silencer into Robert’s mouth and hitting the back of his throat.

His lips tighten around the metal, fearing that if he opened his mouth wider, he’d be unable to control any fluids that came out. He doesn’t want to be on their bad side and just sucks on the gun until they take it back.

“Damn, he really must be thirsty. Hope you can make it home without breaking your vow, Pretty Boy,” Anthony says, taking back the gun and handing it to Michael.

Gabriel lets go and Robert wipes his mouth, staggering out into the street and pulling out his phone.

He clicks a number in the recent calls and wipes his eyes a bit.

“Hey, Donovan. I’m on Franklin, can you pick me up. I don’t feel like walking home,” Robert says, knowing the bathhouse sits between where he is and where he’s going and not knowing what he’d do if he found himself in front of it, alone.

“Sure thing, kiddo. I’ll be there in 5,” Donovan says.

Robert hangs up and crosses the street, keeping an eye on the entrance to the alleyway until the long black limo arrives.

Robert climbs in and slumps over on the seat.

“Thank you, Donovan,” Robert calls out while the divider is down.

“Of course, you seem a bit shaken,” Donovan says.

“Understatement,” Robert says, throwing his arm over his eyes and trying not to think about it. But failing, miserably.

—

Robert goes to the big cathedral downtown in the middle of the night and finds it pretty empty. Candlelight everywhere and just sits in a random pew.

He looks up at the big wooden Jesus and starts talking to him. Like some kind of one sided therapy.

“I don’t talk to you like at all these days. Sorry about that. But you don’t really seem that eager to talk to me either so I guess we’re both to blame.”

Silence.

“I guess I came here to get my mind off it. I guess I just take too much for granted and didn’t realize how much I lean on sex for a lot of my emotional shit—stuff. Sorry.”

More silence.

“But I think mostly I just miss him. Yeah, we spend nearly every day together and he isn’t like withholding affection. I miss the closeness. The bonding. When we f—do it, it’s like...the world opens up and I feel like I’m breathing for the first time. I don’t know if you’ve ever gotten laid, but this is more than that. It’s intimate, it’s real. It’s devastating.”

Silence still.

Robert rubs his eyes and rests his forehead on the back of his hands, gripping the pew in front of him.

—

He comes home and Willem is waiting up in the den, reading.

Robert walks into the light and meets Willem’s gaze.

“Fight club or strip joint?” Willem asks.

“Neither,” Robert says, taking the book from Willem’s hand and putting the bookmark in it. He sets it down and climbs into the large armchair with him.

He rests his head on Willem’s chest and listens to his heartbeat.

“I don’t tell you enough, how much I appreciate the things you do for me. I get caught up in my own shit too much. I know you don’t mind my brattiness or my whining, half the time you’re encouraging it. But for what it’s worth, you’re the best thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want you to forget it,” Robert says.

Willem can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Where the fuck did you go?” Willem asks softly, stroking Robert’s hair.

“Just sat in a quiet place for awhile after the drop. I needed to clear my head,” Robert says, lifting his head and kissing Willem before settling back down and enjoying the silence again.

Willem rests his head on Robert’s and feels an ache in his chest. He can’t believe this Lent thing isn’t just all fun and games for him.

“By the way, you gotta tell your friend Marcello that his men should wash their hands more,” Robert says, standing and walking up to the master bathroom.

—

One week remained on his sentence. He had been so good, he had good days and bad days but this particularly warm day wasn’t giving him any chance.

He watched Willem fan himself in the garden, enjoying a Tom Collins in the shade of the patio umbrella with his shirt open wide.

Robert was practically drooling at the sight of it all, turning away when he could feel his blood traveling south.

“Fucking torture,” Robert murmured, wiping the sweat from his eyes.

“Then go inside with the AC,” Willem offered.

“Not the heat. You. Looking like that,” Robert said.

Willem smirked and aired out his open shirt, making Robert look with the motion and immediately turning away again, groaning and dropping his chin to his chest.

“Can’t I watch you jerk off or something? That shouldn’t count,” Robert said, gripping the armrests tightly.

Willem thought about it, putting down the paper fan and leaning forward on his knees.

“Do you really think you could watch without consequences? Either you touch yourself, you start touching me or you break something. I’ve had my fun teasing you and riling you up but we’re so close to the jackpot, babe. You’ve done so well. It’d be a shame to trip at the finish line,” Willem said, standing and showing off his legs in the stylish white shorts he was sporting.

Robert bit his lip and watched Willem walk inside to refill his drink, caressing his chin as he passed.

He dropped his head in his hands and felt the air rush over the dampest part of his back. It had been good, he had had emotional epiphanies and growth, but he was still younger, still had a libido. And the heat was only out to make enemies with him. The end could not come soon enough.

[cherrykindness]

wild tweets |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: as newlyweds, you and harry read thirsty comments for buzzfeed.

warning: it's thirsty tweets, so below there is adult humor 😳

"It's a bright, sunny morning in Los Angeles, and there's nothing I want more than to be on BuzzFeed and read wild tweets alongside my husband."

"Thirsty tweets, babe." Harry corrected, laughing out loud with the producers behind the cameras.

"Thirsty Tweets." You said quickly, putting your hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. "I'm terrible at that, I'm sorry. Can we start over?"

"Let's take a break for one to two minutes. You've given us a great introduction, Y/N."

You shook your head, smiling shyly before turning to Harry, who was already watching you with that easy smile at the corner of his lips. You liked how his hand remained firmly on yours, making those circular movements with the thumb that always served as a natural medice for your anxiety.

"You look so fucking beautiful."

The pleated dress with flounce sleeves fit you like a glove. You had made peace with the various shades of white since the wedding and knew that Harry liked to see you in that color too.

"Thank you, you're not too bad either, Styles."

You intimately suspected that Harry would always seem far beyond that "not bad" that came out as a euphemism from your mouth. He wore nothing but a pair of bell-bottom pants in a strong shade of blue and a soft vest printed with fluffy little sheep on a striped American collared shirt - in your opinion, no one could look better in farm animal clothing than Harry Styles and Princess Diana with her red "Black Sheep" sweater in the 1980s. In contrast, you knew your husband well enough to know that he was arrogant and knew exactly how hot he looked - you also made your thoughts clear enough when you kept him backstage beyond ten minutes in a rather heated kissing session.

"Are you anxious?" you asked curiously, remaining with downcast eyes fixed on the strokes that remained assiduous on your warm skin. "To read about how the whole internet dreams of fucking my wife?! Of course." Harry joked, leaning over to leave a small one on your cheek. "We agree on that, don't we? Although I'm a little nervous, I'm really interested to know all the crazy things they say about you. Everyone knows you're mine at the end of the day, that's enough."

At the end of the break, you and Harry made a silent agreement that you should be the first to pick up one of the scattered papers in the red pot. There were quite a significant amount of tweets, and as much as you were used to reading rather sordid things about your husband on the Internet, the excitement was there as if you were wading into uncharted territory.

"I would be a good girl all year round if Santa guaranteed me a threesome with Harry and Y/N Styles on Christmas Eve." You laughed, Harry staring at the camera with an expression close to the meme of the surprised Pikachu. "You guys are incredibly nasty, I love it."

"If that was the first one, I'm really worried about the next ones." Harry commented with a little corner smile, picking the next tweet out of the bucket. "I have an entire folder on Pinterest dedicated to Harry Styles' hands, and let me tell you why: those hands are art, and art needs to be recognized."

"What- Guys, you promised you wouldn't post my anonymous tweets here." You quipped with false reproach, laughing at your own stupid joke while everyone else in the studio did the same. "But I can't blame her, honestly." Shaking your shoulders, you opened another piece of paper. "Harry Styles finally confessed that he wrote Watermelon Sugar for Y/N!!!! Are you guys imagining the same thing as me?!!!!!! 🥵🍆💦"

"Exhausted emoji, eggplant emoji, and water emoji?" Harry frowned, staring at the tweet you held up. "I imagine you're in need of a vacation somewhere refreshing and you're craving a fruit that everyone eats like it's really a vegetable."

"That reminded me of that story-" You laughed, hiding your face on the table as Harry continued to offer a poker face to the camera, struggling not to keep up with you laughter. "I'm sorry, lovie, I have to share this with the rest of the world." You stated, wiping a few tears from the corner of your eyes. "Harry always wears those fancy suits to concerts, right?! Right! Turns out he looks really hot in some, like his ass molds perfectly into those tight pants and everything. I was home that night because I wasn't feeling well enough to face the big crowds, but I was still following everything on twitter. It was a concert in London, not so far from where we lived at the time, so it was obvious that he would come home after it was over. I follow some portals that do really fast updates of pictures, videos, etc; everything that happened at Harry's concert was on my timeline in a matter of seconds. When one of these profiles uploaded a picture of him with his back to the camera in a heavily accentuated black and white suit, I quickly sent him the image along with a peach emoji and then wrote "looks good tonight". He didn't reply to me until a few hours later, of course, but I obviously didn't expect a "ready for a Fifth Avenue peach salad for dinner?" and numerous cutlery emojis."

Harry rolled his eyes comically, indulging in laughter as did everyone else who occupied the backstage area.

"I'm against the eroticization of emojis." He said between uncompensated breaths, shaking his head negatively. "Let's go to the next ones, please, I'm already feeling exposed enough here."

"I like your old-fashioned spirit, baby." You assured him with a smile, laying on the sturdy shoulder hidden under the fluffy fabric.

Harry chuckled low, leaving a little kiss on the top of your head before selecting the next paper. The fans would die when that video aired, everyone was sure. You two easily forgot the cameras when you were side by side, and the public display of affection had never been a problem.

"My life mission is to look at someone the way Harry looks at Y/N and be reciprocated the way Y/N looks at Harry, then I could die happy." Harry read. "That was very good and healthy, thank you!" He smiled. "But don't settle for death in that case, please. Just make sure to keep that person around forever."

"Awn, we got so sweet now." You made a pout. "Thank you for sending us something so cute! I really hope you find the right person soon." Sending a kiss to the camera, you moved on to the next tweet. "I wouldn't want to get a golden ticket to visit Willy Wonka's factory, I would like to get a golden ticket to actively participate in Y/N and Harry Styles' Honeymoon.

"That was creative, so I will disregard the fact that you removed my last name from my wife's name." Harry joked.

"I will always be an Y/L/N." You flashed the tongue. "We had a great Honeymoon, but I know you guys already know all about it because there are pictures all over the internet of outings that I don't even remember existed."

"Even though we chose a rather reserved city, many paparazzi still managed to photograph some of our nights there." Harry agreed. "There was one particular day when we opted to have dinner at a restaurant near the beach. Y/N had found it even before the trip, it was pretty laid back and we could spend the evening at karaoke. I don't really remember what happened, but we woke up the next day with a terrible hangover, still wearing the clothes from the dinner and with several headlines saying that I was cheating on my wife in the middle of our Honeymoon with a blue-haired italian girl."

"That wig made me sexy, man." You blinked, laughing as you remembered the situation. "It's a shame the paparazzi only got low quality images, but I swear I looked really amazing that night. Italy, I miss you."

"We're coming to the end and I haven't had to ask production for a glass of water yet, thank you to whoever selected these tweets." Harry raised his thumb to the camera, smiling before turning his gaze back to the small paper he had chosen. "Y/N could literally punch me in the face and I would just bow down and thank them for it." He laughed. "She has heavy hands, so I would rethink that choice."

"It takes strong hands to be a superheroine." You blinked gracefully, referring to your works as a Marvel actress. "I move around a lot during the night, so I'll take this lovely opportunity to say that twitter can dismiss all the malicious theories about Harry always show up with a new bruise all over his body."

"Please stop making indecent assumptions while Y/N is aggressive with me at night only unconsciously, her father has access to social media."

You laughed, clearing your throat before reading the next obscenity aloud.

"I would sell all my possessions to have Y/N sitting on my lap for ten seconds."

"Oh my God." Harry laughed out loud, throwing his head back. "I should have said that in our wedding vows."

You shook your head, laughing low as you set the tweet aside.

"That was pretty funny and cheeky, I approve."

"Okay, looks like we finally got to the last one." Harry announced, waving the paper in the air dramatically before opening it. "Harry could literally crush me with those boots while fuc- I need that glass of water." He said dumbfounded, hiding his face between his hands after throwing the tweet over his shoulder. You laughed out loud next to the organizers, and meanwhile Harry leaned his head on your bust, staring at you still with wide eyes. "Please promise that we will be careful with our future children on the internet."

[blissfulparker]

A Work in progress→T.H

Parings: Tom Holland x Actress!reader

Summary: when You and Tom both have each other as a celebrity crush, you two unknowingly take on the role of each other’s lovers in a new movie and are expected to make it real. When the director puts the two of you in a house for the weekend to get to know each other there is little more to rehearsing than just your lines.

Warnings: awkwardness in the first half, smut(oral female), sexual tension

A/n: this is based off of a blurb I did, where it was just from a physical affection prompt list that I went off on! I hope you guys enjoy 💗

Wc: 4k

Tom didn’t know why he was so nervous as he opened the large glass doors to the conference building. His palms were sweaty as he walked alone rather than with his brother and assistant Harry.

He loved working on new projects, new films, meeting new people but the scare of not knowing the new people made him nervous. At this point he normally would be able to get some sort of name, do some research on said person but this time they gave him nothing but a script.

The script was more of a love story. a serious role but one where he could be more seductive and serious, he could let go of the goofy teenager character he seemed to be stuck with.

His character, Jack, who would be the corrupt business man who falls for the one trying to bring down his company, the main female protagonist, Beth.

The meeting started at 10:00. Always being early he seemed to see someone else was too. You stand in front of the coffee machine, trying to get it to work as you waited for the meeting to start—or at least people to come in.

“Oi let me help you with that—“ he offers but a small Yelp comes from your mouth as you quickly turn around and hit your head against the British accented stranger.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry! You scared me half to death—“ you hold your head as you look up, a wave of heat washes over your body and you don’t know if it was just because you hit your head hard enough or if it was because you finally figured out who you were working with.

“I should’ve said something else first, I’m so sorry—“ fuck. He thinks as he looks at you. You who managed to make a way onto the list of celebrities he wants to work with. You who also made it on the list of celebrities he wants to date.

The fans knew quickly he had a tiny crush on you. As he once liked a fan edit of the two of you on the read carpet. He seemed to be one of the firsts to like your Instagram photos and even mentioning your name in an interview saying how pretty you were.

You were the same, with smaller fame of course. You along with half of the other population who enjoyed marvel movies and dorky characters, you fell in love with the curly haired British boy. Finding him extremely talented and a heartthrob of course, you quickly dreamt about working with him but laughed about it never coming true.

Now he was in front of you. His chin red from where your head collided with it and he only stares at you in response.

The awkward silence quickly filled as the two of you tried and laugh off the interaction.

“Tom—“

“(Y/n)—“ you both say your names at the same time. Him going in for a handshake and you going in for an awkward hug. The two of you stop and laugh it off before deciding a simple handshake was the way to go. You had never wanted to quit your entire career more than now.

“Oh! Perfect!” Finally as the tension was cut the director walked into the room. Two people followed behind and you took a deep breath already nervous for the new film and exactly what Toms role was. As far as you read, the main female character, who you were to be playing, had to be in lingerie a few times in front of the main male character. There were also sex scenes, plenty of kiss scenes and sexual tension. You were fit for the character but you were not fit for Tom. All your fantasies about him were just fantasies.

“I see the two of you have already met. But If not, (y/n) meet Tom, Tom meet (y/n) you two will be working together for the next few months as I’m sure you are aware of your roles. (Y/n) will be playing the lover and spy where Tom you will be playing the businessman. I’m sure we already know our positions…” the director starts and you swallow hard.

Tom doesn’t know if you’re looking or not to see the pink shade coming to his cheeks and making him hot. You were just an actress, he thought, an actress who just had to play the role. He was an actor as well, he reminds himself. A very good one for the fact so he didn't want to mess this up all because of one silly crush.

“We want to put you two in a house together.” The director claps his hands together making you nearly spit out the coffee you had in front of you. Tom's head snaps to look at you as you cough a bit trying to digest the words.

“You want us to live together?” Tom speaks for you it seems.

“We only want to see your chemistry! The fans, the academy, loves chemistry! Trust me, people will love the movie but they will not care if they see just two other actors acting to be in love. Not really caring you know? We want to see you guys build a bond, passion, some sort of love even if you lie to us about it to make it believable. Run through your lines, skinny dip with each other for all we care we just want to see passion!” You feel like his words are turning into a dream as he speaks. You feel your heart pounding at his words and try your hardest to keep your calm.

“And where will we be going?” You finally find the strength to speak. If it was anyone else you would not care, reminding yourself you are a good actress and have acted like you wanted to fuck a man you hate. But this was a man you actually wanted to fuck, a man you actually wanted real passion with.

“We rented you two a flat in spain,” he mentions, right, where you’ll be shooting, you think. “It’s only three days and if you want more we will give you more if you don’t we will let you free. Every expense is paid for, go to dinner, have wine, everything will be on the film. This is both of your chances at big awards this year. This is for you and for us.” You could almost feel Toms body heat as he was just as nervous as you, you didn’t know why though. He was the heartthrob, he was the actor that was wanted left and right, this was your big chance at a movie that can skyrocket your career.

The next hour feels torturous as all you could think about was what this house looked like for the two of you. Did it have two rooms? Two bathrooms? Why did your head hit his chin? Is there a bump? What if he hates you? What if he’s secretly seeing someone and just doesn’t want to announce it? All thoughts ran through your head as you had to make this your best acting gig yet. Except the most acting might be pretending not to love Tom the way you do.

-

Three days. That’s all it was. You would spend three days in whatever this house looked like and all you would have to do is pretend to get to know Tom. All while trying not to expose how much you truly like him.

There were rumors he had a crush on you, of course you saw the interview and noticed how he liked your pictures but you also knew his co-stars from Spider-Man so your thoughts were friendly.

Taking an Uber to the destination, you pull up to this beautiful Italian cottage. Gorgeous stone walls and large driveway, If there was one emotion to be real about this entire thing, it would be that you were spoiled with this house.

You were already nervous as people started to catch on through social media, his fans seeming to know his constant move now quickly knowing yours.

‘Stars (y/n) (y/l/n) and Tom Holland possibly take on a new film with one another: here’s what we know’

‘Why is Tom in Italy?’ ‘Is (y/n) in Italy?’ ‘Rumor is they are filming together soon’

Your heart rushed with comments you had read. Maybe this wasn’t for you, maybe you should stay with doing small movies where you were a side character or something simple. Keep the small amount of followers you had compared to Toms 40 million.

As you go up to knock on the door wondering if he’s already beat you to the place, the door opens and reveals the sight of Tom.

Another Yelp escapes your lips as you jump at Tom opening the door so quickly.

“If we’re living together I think you should hold off on scaring me.” You take a deep breath. His hair was wet, he was fresh out of a shower.

“Sorry darling! They told me your flight landed at 2:00 and well...it’s 2:00 so you aren’t supposed to be here until like 3:00.” He claims and you take a deep breath. Three days, you remind yourself, don’t mess it up.

“Oh…” you swallow.

“Not that I didn’t want to see you! It’s nice to see you again, you look really nice!” He says as you wear the sweats and the sweatshirt from the airport. “Let me help you with those.” He grabs your bags for you and you smile letting him take it. He leans in just close enough for you to smell the aftershave he put on, his muscles flex as he grabs your bags making this all the harder for you.

The night was young, fans already knew, this was your shot at making it big, Tom's shot of winning an Oscar, you two needed to work together. Pushing aside the worried one sided emotion and be able to make a movie that blows people away

“Have you ever done anything like this before?” You asked as you walked into the kitchen. It was now late, you were starving, you and Tom already getting to know each other but it was strange.

“No, I mean the most I’ve done for a chemistry read is take the person out to dinner.” He laughs a little and then runs a hand through his hair. “Speaking of dinner...should we grab something or make something. Unless you had plans of your own then that’s totally fine—“ he starts to ramble and you laugh.

“I cannot cook, so unless you can I prefer to pick something up.” You cut him off to make sure he doesn’t go on and on.

“Have you ever pizza from Italy before?” He asks and you lean against the counter.

“I’ve never been in Italy before.” You shrugged and he grew a smirk. He turns on his heels as if he already has an idea.

“Then I know a place.” He walks out of the room to grab his phone.

You feel your heart pounding as you check your phone. You made a mistake by opening your Twitter, 10k new followers, 50k mentions and plenty more all regarding Tom. You only hoped he wasn’t the type to use Twitter as it was flooded with people wanting you guys to be together.

Your mind swarms with the thought of your character again. Soon you’d have to stand in front of your celebrity crush, half naked, trying to seduce him. It was going to be more awkward if you guys were friends.

“Are you coming?” He calls out and you quickly shove your phone in your back pocket before grabbing your purse to go.

Three days and you feel like you’re already going to snap.

-

It was a lovely little place he brought you to. You didn’t know If he’d come to Italy often but he clearly knew a decent way around the city. The two of you sat in the corner of a dimly lit Italian restaurant, sharing pizza and feeling more comfortable with each other as the night went on. He was just another person, you thought, nothing to worry about.

“We didn’t order any wine.” You stop the server as he pours both you and Tom a glass. Tom already drunk off of the beer he had and you only enjoying his presence.

“Ah it’s on the house, such a lovely couple in such a lovely city! You two should have fun!” The server winks. You almost protest to stop him telling him that you and Tom were nearly just coworkers stuck in a house for three days.

But rather Tom thanks the server and takes the glass. Your heart pounding as you pick up the glass as well, the boys eyes already red from how much he’s had already and you can tell you have to take him home.

“You know I was nervous to be working with you.” He took a sip before setting it down. “When I saw you I was like ‘shit this is happening’ and freaked out.” He admitted and you try to hold back the butterflies in your stomach.

“You freaked out for working with me?” You swallowed and he nodded.

“Well look at you, you’re gorgeous! Anyone would be lucky to work with you, as your lover as well.” He falls back into the booth and stares at the décor on the ceiling.

“So you read all the scenes?” You ask and he nodded.

“Of course i did! I only improve when I feel like it.” He shrugs, taking another sip.

“You said you’re method too.” You remember from one interview you watched years ago. Your voice was more of a whisper, more to yourself but he grows a soft smirk as he turns his head to face you.

“So you watched my interviews.” He says feeling cocky. You roll your eyes taking another sip of wine yourself to hopefully drown out the embarrassment you just gave yourself.

“As if I don’t see you being the first to like my posts, Holland.” You avoid eye contact and rather look around the room but Tom only focuses on you.

When you catch his eyes they’re sober, this whole time he was telling stories in a drunken state and now he looks at you with glossy soft eyes as if he wants to hear more.

“So you see me liking your posts?” He teases and you finally look at him.

“I see everyone liking my posts. Why do you follow me?” You challenge and he holds back a smirk.

“You’re friends with Z, why do you follow me?” He asks back and you feel yourself straighten.

“Z is friends with a lot of people, I don’t see you following all of them?” You argue and he falls back into the booth again with a soft chuckle.

“So not only do you follow me but you stalk me?” He teases and you groan.

“Not what I meant.” You see how much wine you have left, not a lot as your nerves filled you and the wine didn’t calm you. “You liked a fan edit of us a year ago. We’ve never met until a few days ago.” You rest your head on your hand that props itself up against the table. That’s what makes him lose his game, he turns a light shade of red before quickly straightening himself up.

“You’re talented, why don’t we see more of you?” He asks about your roles.

“You’re about to see everything in a few days.” You mumble and he chokes on his wine.

Page 281

*Beth removes her robe in front of Jack, slowly stalking towards him wearing the tight black lingerie* *she crawls on top of his sleepy figure and points a gun*

It was embarrassing that such a scene turned him on after finding out who it was with. After finding out it was you, he read over every single sex scene, strip scene, makeout scene to make sure everything was real.

“Oh relax.” You hold back a smile. “You’re the Method actor, remember?” You tease. He leans forward, he’s not sure how he’s gotten so confident but he takes your glass and drinks from it before setting it down.

“Yeah, I am. We should rehearse some things, get more comfortable.” He suggests and you look at him up and down. His lips slightly stained reddish pink from the wine, his skin damp from how hot the room was, and he looked at you as if no one else was in the room.

“And where should we start?” You swallow, you can’t get shy now. You’ve dreamt about this moment and now it’s happening.

“Well, if we’re starting with their meeting, I think it would go something like this.” He leans in and places a soft kiss on your neck. You’re frozen as his lips are soft and warm, he pulls back and realizes what he’s done. His thoughts of you, his crush on you, the warm alcohol that ran through his blood all while being in Italy got the best of him.

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done—“ he started and you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to kiss lips. His eyes go wide softly as if he was a school boy getting his first kiss.

“More wine?” The waiter comes back and Tom snaps out of it for a split second.

“We’ll take the check.”

-

Your hands tangled in with his messy hair, his shirt already off as he was warm from the summer heat Italy provided. His lips trail down from your lips to your neck as he plays with the strings of the summer dress you wore.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” His words mumbled into your chest as he lets the shoulders of your dress fall.

“Why? You want to admit you have a crush on me now?” you teased and when he looks up his eyes are darker. The sweet chocolate puppy dog eyes before now darkened as his lips were swollen and his face was hot. His hands rest at your hips with a tight grip as he wants more.

“You admitted to stalking my interviews and who i follow so i should be asking you that question.” he teased and you rolled your eyes. Your Only respond by pushing his head back into your chest where he planted soft kisses trailing down.

“So soft,” he takes off the bra you wore. Hes thought about this moment but would never admit it. Hes thought about how soft your skin is and how you looked under his touch with his head in between your legs—

“Do something tom.” you groan as he is on his knees for you. Your dress bunched at your waist, all exposed for him as he takes off the black lace underwear you wore under the dress.

“All for me?” he asks and your head hits the back of the wall, your hands go to his hair and he kisses gently at your thigh. “Say something, darling.” darling, you think about the way he says that word. The simple nickname that made you melt. Darling, that was going to be the death of you.

“Y-yes!” you find the words. “I-I don’t think this is apart of the script though.” You still try and be playful and just below your eyes you can see he has a playful and cocky smirk.

“This,” his thumb rubs at your clit as he looks up. His lips cherry red and his smirk is full view to you as he sees your eyes flutter shut as your head was thrown back. “This is where I improve.” he replaces his thumb with his tongue as he pumps his middle finger in and out of you. Your hands grip his hair as you moan his name, his name that you thought of so many times before this in your dreams.

Your knees go weak as his one hand pins your hips against the wall and his other fingers thrusted in and out of you while his tongue works at your clit.

“Tommy!” The nickname slipped, you didn’t mean it but you imagined it sometimes long before you met him and just had a crush.

“Huh darling? Like that? Want to cum?” His words horse and his accent thicker. “That’s right...” he almost laughs as he can see how much you’re whimpering. “Cum for me.”

You fall under his touch with soft moans leaving your lips. The wave of euphoria washes over you and you struggle to open back up your eyes and come back to reality.

He comes back up to face you, this time you have a thin layer of sweat over your forehead and your chest rises as you catch your breath. You take Tom's fingers and take them into your mouth. Acting as if it were him in your mouth you work your tongue around his finger before taking them out with a pop.

His eyes stare and he almost winces at how hard he is. How hard you've made him.

“This is going to be the best damn movie i've ever filmed.” he nearly whispers as you bite down on your lip before pulling him back into your lips.

This was going to be the best six months of your life.

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[whatvilecreature]

What are some of your thoughts about Tsukiyama? I don’t know if your a head cannon blog but I would like to hear some of what you think he’s like

Bro Tsukiyama? my favourite character ever. A real G. I love this man so much (without being overly rabid about him ofc).

These are gonna be a mix of silly and serious so watch out! Also a lot were brainstormed with @tg-headcanons a while back so kudos to them!

-Shuu definitely has more than ten Mitski songs on his playlists at any given time, he tries to hide the truth from Hori. But in true Hori-Tsukiyama hijinks fashion, she's able to hack his accounts and expose him for the true Mitski fan he is. Once he found out that Obama also listened to Mitski, he began to wear it like a badge of honour.

-Shuu can speak three languages fluently; English, French and Japanese. He's intermediate with German, Spanish and Italian. He gets sick a lot because of his shitty Alabama genetics so basically the only thing left to do from his bed is read. He moved around and jumped countries a lot as a kid, both his parents are Japanese-French and he was born in France (where he was taught French and Japanese) then moved to London for a couple of years where he needed to become fluent in English. After finally settling in Japan, his love of languages endured and he began learning others and refining his existing skills just for the hell of it.

-He's red-green colour blind, as was his mother, who designed fashion clothes in her spare time. His mother's taste is what inspired Shuu's, well, let's say, colourful wardrobe. You just know she designed a purple and green tailcoat in like 1996 and went "oh hell yeah this fucks" and Shuu in 2011 gets it out whilst rooting around her old room and goes "HELL YEAH THIS FUCKS"

-Shuu swears but mostly in English. You won't really catch him saying Scheisse or Merde but you'll catch him saying Fuck a lot.

-This man will drink coffee out of a teapot.

-Shuu has every medical condition under the sun. Anaemia, Addison's, a weakened immune system, arthritis in his knees and elbows, developing glaucoma. Any disorder you can name, he'll probably have it. This is because his family's genetics have been assfucked by YEARS of inbreeding, to try and selectively breed traits like Shuu's beautiful, ornate Kagune and fine, silky hair. However, the downside of this is that yeah, you get a beautiful little ghoul but he's bad at existing. He can't even stand up for too long or eat too much at a time without feeling sick.

-The equilibrium of Shuu's body is really delicate and easily disrupted, even by his own cocktail of medication, so he and others have to be extremely careful when dosing it out.

-His prey drive is usually pretty low, and he's able to go through life without being sent into a frenzy by squirrels or birds. However, sometimes, if he accidentally overdoses on some of his medication, his normally low prey drive will spike up. Unfortunately, Kanae had to learn this the hard way. This is why they can't have decorative fish tanks anymore.

-He's got what you'd call an addictive personality in the sense that he's overly compulsive with things. He's quick to get drunk (because of his thin blood) and often binge drinks. He's picky with food because most foods will hurt his sensitive stomach, so when he finds a food that doesn't a) cause him discomfort to eat and b) tastes good he will stop at nothing to chase it down, and will often go for weeks without food because he wants that specific thing.

-Shuu's Kagune sheds, kind of. His Kagune, like most Kagune with tough plating, is made up of the hard outer shell and the softer, mushier underside/inside. If a part of the plating gets too damaged (because Shuu's Kagune is somewhat brittle), it can be pried off, if it doesn't fall of naturally. When this happens, it leaves the fleshy underside completely exposed, so it's not very advantageous. Usually, this outer coating would take 2-3 weeks to grow back competely, depending on rc type and available food, but because of Shuu's weaknesses and low rc intake it can take a month, at minimum. If discarded, the plates will naturally degrade over time, just like human finger and toe nails. Unlike the flesh of the Kagune, the outer coating is not edible, although some ghouls, like those who make jewellery from Ukaku crystals, will repurpose this shell into decoration (think turtle shell décor).

-I think most people would agree that Shuu was born premature, he kind of just gives off those vibes (affectionately). But this mf was so ugly and undercooked that Mirumo used to joke that he was the Eraserhead baby. Little did Shuu know, his dad was going to play the absolute worst prank on him for the first 14 years of his life. Basically, Mirumo filled a photo album with pictures of the Eraserhead baby, was like "Shuu, this is what you looked like as a child". And Shuu believed it, all up until he watched Eraserhead in his teens and was met with the horrible realisation that his dad had pulled a fast one on him.

[seiyasabi]

Obsessed With Loving You

(Here’s a Yandere Lucid Narancia x Willing Fem Reader fic! I hope ya’ll enjoy :)) Also, this will take place in the early 2000s, so I will make appropropriate references for the time period. 

TW: Aged up Narancia!, !Consensual NSFW!, praise kink!, Blowjob!, cum swallowing!, !violence (not against you)!, mafia business!, mostly a soft fic, !obsession, !Possiveness, you’re highkey in denial of his unhinged behaviour!, etc..

I’m sorry if this is too OOC) 

Zipping up your cropped Juicy Couture jumper, you look at yourself in your vanity mirror. Your (size) breasts look amazing with your low cut tank top and partially unzipped jumper, and your (thin/thick) thighs look ravishing in your Dior mini skirt. 

Smiling at your cute appearance, you swipe a thin layer of (colour) lipgloss on your (thin/full) lips, before spreading the product out evenly. 

Today, Nara is supposed to take you out, and you’re very excited. 

Plopping down on your vanity’s bench, you buckle a pair of open-toed high heels onto your pedicured feet. Smoothing down any wrinkles on your expensive skirt, you bring out your navy-coloured Nokia, and text your boyfriend that you’re ready to go. Grabbing your cross-bodied purse, you slip it on, and toss your cellphone into its large pocket. 

Within moments of your text, you hear your bedroom door’s locks disengage. Your silly boyfriend is so worried about you, that he put those three high security locks on your door. He says he’s afraid of a rival mafia hurting you, but you always reassure him that you know that he’d save you. After all, he’d brought you to his home so that he’s almost always near you! 

Your eyes land on your curly haired man, his usual attire strapped on tighter than normal, bringing out his lithe, muscular form. 

“Ready to go, beautiful?” You smile and nod, standing to your feet. His purple eyes are glued to your form, taking in how beautiful you look in the clothing he bought you. 

“Mmhmm! I’m so excited to go out with you today,” You hurry up to him, hugging him in a tight embrace, all whilst grinning up at him lovingly. His heart practically combusts at the sight of your cute face. 

“Me too! I have so much planned for us today,” His giddy smile and eager words spur the two of you into motion, his arm tightly wound around your waist and your head leaning against his bony shoulder. 

Once outside your apartment building, he calls over a taxi, getting one with ease. Nara opens the door for you, batting his eyelashes at you playfully. You giggle at his silly actions, and step inside the yellow car. Sitting on the plush seat, you wait for your man to take a seat next to you. Those few moments feel like forever, but when you hear the opposite door open, and you feel his hot hand place itself on your bare thigh, you feel at ease. 

The dark haired man speaks to the taxi driver in Italian, and even though you try to follow their conversation, they speak too quickly for you to understand. That’s the price you pay for living in a foreign country. 

Once the driver knows where Narancia wishes to go, your boyfriend sends you a happy smile, “Today is going to be a good day, beautiful. I’ll make sure of it.” 

-

The day did, in fact, start out great. 

When the two of you reached Via Toledo, Nara immediately directed you to a plethora of high end stores. He’d picked out multiple cute outfits he thought you’d look cute in, and practically dragged you into the fitting room. The only problem is that you looked good in everything he put you in! He almost allowed himself to become bankrupt by buying you everything, but you quickly stopped him. 

He was upset at first, but when you meekly told him that you didn’t want him to spend all his money on you, his resolve broke. The both of you came to an agreement; you pick out one or two outfits that you like the most, and he’ll buy only the things you chose. This pleased him greatly, because he was still able to spoil you, but you felt too bad to choose anything very expensive. 

So, this ended up with Narancia carrying about ten bags at the end of the day. 

“Are you sure you want to carry all of them, Nara? I can carry something! I don’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself-” 

“Don’t worry about me, beautiful. I can carry everything, and if you want, I can even carry you,” This draws a laugh from you. You hold onto his arm, trying to keep up with his long strides. 

“Thank you for today, I had a lot of fun,” You kiss him on the cheek, making him flush a deep maroon. His russet coloured skin practically glows in the setting sun, making you gawk at him in awe. Your boyfriend is so beautiful. Hearing a love sick giggle come from the curly haired man, you realise that you said your thoughts out loud. 

“It is no problem, (Nickname), all I want is for you to be happy,” He kisses your cheek in return, making you flush as well, “Are you hungry? Fugo told me that there’s a good place-”

“Narancia Ghirga, I’m going to kill you!” A haggard looking man runs towards the both of you, and for some reason, he looks familiar, “Give me (Your Name) back! I know that you’ve brainwashed her!” The man’s outburst causes a lot of bystanders to look in your direction, thus causing a small crowd to form. 

Your boyfriend quickly pushes you behind him, shielding you from the man with his own body, “What the fuck do you want? I don’t know who the hell you are, but you better stay away from my girlfriend,” You have never seen the normally happy go-lucky man this angry, which scares you. 

“You know what you did, and you know who I am! I am Christian Viccio, (Your Name)’s real boyfriend! I’m here to take her back home, where she belongs,” He whips out a pistol, drawing loud yells and gasps from the crowd around you. 

“You’re fucking crazy! Put the fucking gun away,” Narancia quickly calls upon Aerosmith, preparing to kill the man that’s currently threatening your relationship and your life. Nara knows who this man is, of course he does! He’s the man that had stolen you away from him, the man that tried to steal your heart. The dark haired man is kicking himself for not just killing him when he had the chance. But, here is his second chance. 

When the haggard man moves to shoot your boyfriend, he allows Aerosmith to shit him in the head, killing him instantly. The crowd runs and screams after the shot is fired, causing mass panic. You can’t move, you’re in shock at what just happened. It’s as if a sniper just took the guy out in mere seconds. 

Realising your paralysing fear, Nara scoops you into his arms, bags digging painfully into his flesh, and runs in the direction of your shared apartment. 

-

“-You’re alright, beautiful. That horrible man can’t hurt you,” The purple eyed man soothes, rubbing your sides reassuringly, “I’m sorry that I kept this away from you, but I was scared. I was scared that that obsessed man was going to hurt you and steal you away from me.” You cuddle into your boyfriend’s warm chest, eating his words up without much thought. 

“It’s okay Nara, thank you for saving me. Without you, I surely would’ve been hurt,” He squeezes your body close to his, relishing how soft you feel under his large palms. 

“I’d do anything for you, (Your Name). I’d kill for you, because I love you, just remember that, okay?” You nod, forehead bumping his exposed collar bones. 

“I love you too. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” You smooch the underside of his jaw, making butterflies flutter in his stomach. 

“Just you loving me is enough,” He kisses your forehead, his hands squeezing the fat of your hips. You smile up at him, your hands running through his hick locks, tugging lightly on certain spots. A small moan escapes his lips, showing that he’s enjoying your actions. 

“Please let me do something for you, Nara. Please let me make you feel good,” Who is he to deny your request? Especially when you look at him with so much love and warmth. 

“O-okay,” His voice breaks slightly, causing him to clear his throat, “-I mean, yes, of course,” Giving him one last kiss on the lips, you then push him lightly onto his back, leaving him vulnerable below you. You sit on his legs, trapping him below you. 

“I love you so much,” Your fingers grasp the fabric of his top, signaling you wanting him to take it off. He does so without fault, showing his well chiseled abdomen, “I meant what I said earlier, you’re very pretty, Nara. My pretty, kind, amazing boyfriend,” His cheeks flush, and you can’t help but kiss them in response. 

Your hands ghost over his trouser clad cock, feeling it jump under your soft touch. You shuck the skirt overlaying trousers, before removing them as well, leaving him in his tightening boxers. His purple undergarment shows the outline of his dick very nicely, making your mouth water. 

“I wanna make you feel good, will you let me suck your beautiful cock?” He nods down at you shyly, making you grin in happiness. 

Pulling his boxers off of him causes his hardening cock to smack against his v-line, splattering a small amount of precum on his tan skin. His tip is a dark maroon, whilst his shaft is a little darker than the rest of his skin. The area around his cock and sack is smooth and hairless, all thanks to a waxing salon he visits monthly. All in all, his prick is the prettiest one you’ve ever seen. 

Moving off of him for a moment, you guide him to the edge of your bed, kneeling between his parted legs. His heavy sack hangs below him, but his thick cock bobs straight up. Looking up at his shy face, you take his cock in your dominant hand, and kiss his sensitive tip lovingly. 

He lets out a small, high pitched moan, earning him a second kiss. Narancia lays a heavy hand on the back of your head, signaling that he wants you to continue. You do so willingly. 

Your other hand cups his heavy balls, kneading them softly, whilst your mouth suckles his tip, and your other hand stroked him tenderly. He keens at your treatment, hips bucking slightly. 

“That-that feels so good. I love you so much,” At his words, your hand leaves his shaft, in favour of you taking him deep into your mouth, practically deep throating him. Moaning at full volume, he tries to stay as still as possible, as you suck and fondle him. Squirts of precum shoot down your throat, spurring you to bob your head faster. 

“Fu-fu-fuck! You treat me so well, (Your Name), you suck my cock so-” He cuts himself off with a series of moans. 

You continue to suck and fondle his cock, the back of your throat massaging his thick cockhead. Tears sting your eyes as you hum around him, trying not to gag. 

With every swallow around him, you can feel him swell, showing that he’s about to cum. With one last hard suck, and a particularly hard squeeze of his sack, he creams the back of your throat. 

Narancia falls backwards, his orgasm wracking his entire body. His hips almost jerk away from your mouth, but you dutifully follow, trying to swallow down everything that he’s giving you. Your throat helps milk him of his cum, causing him to become oversensitive very quickly. 

Once you hear his pitiful keen, you release him, licking your lips of any of his escaped cum. Sliding up his legs, you lay your (size) chest against his, smiling down at his fucked out face. 

“I love you, Nara. I’m so happy that you’re the ones who saved me,” Your words are sweet, honest, and innocent, and in his post-nut clarity, Narancia can’t help but feel guilt for lying to you. 

But, since he can see that his brainwashing hasn’t come undone, he says nothing. 

Capturing your lips with his, he holds you close, relishing your weight against his lithe form. 

Nothing can take you from him, no, he’ll make sure of it. 

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 2

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: Some drinking and swearing. Billy could possibly be borderline DUI* on way home.

*Please Don’t Drink & 🚙 ...you don’t want to end up needing 🚑 🚓 🚒 for you or other people.

(My GIF)

You raised an eyebrow, unsmiling, “What’s the price?”

“Come for a drink with me.... but not here. Let’s go somewhere else.”

Laughing quietly, you climbed into the Rolls Royce Wraith, Billy closing the door for you before walking round to the driver’s side. He smiled back, looking across at you as he clipped on his seatbelt, “Somethin’ amusing you?”

“Well here we are, two CEO’s if you will, and this is your ride. Wanna know what mine is?” He nodded, “Yeah, tell me.” “The subway, or these two pretty feet.” He laughed, “Usedta be mine too.”

The car’s engine purred into life and he swung it quickly out of the parking space, heading towards the exit of the underground car park.

“So,” you glanced across at his profile, “where are we heading?” “Not far,” he said, “a neighbourhood bar I hang out at. It’s relaxed, not too busy.”

Shortly after that, he parked the sleek car on the street and the two of you headed into a small bar with low lighting, background music and not too many people in it. The bartender mock-saluted Billy as he stepped inside, and there was a whisky on the bar by the time you two got there.

Billy looked sidelong at you as you perched yourself onto a barstool, “What would you like to drink, sweetheart?” You gave him a ‘Look’, saying, “Sweetheart?”

He smirked, shrugging, “Hey! you are my fake girlfriend, after all.” “Ha ha, okay - you get a pass this time, big boy.” This time he drawled out your name, continuing, “You’ve been lookin’!” leaning back slightly and gesturing at his zip area. You lightly punched his arm, “Referring to your height, smartass!”

Internally, you were cringing a bit. The sensible side of your brain asked you what you thought you were doing, leaving the cocktail party with a complete stranger, and flirting all over him. The devilish part of your brain answered, ‘Living a little! Flirting with a handsome guy! Stop being such a mood killer!’

“I’ll have a mojito for a change, if you don’t mind,” you said. “Coming right up,” said the bartender, who, you realised, had been listening in to your exchange with Billy.

Once your drink was served, Billy gestured to a table and as you walked over to it, you felt a hand placing itself lightly on your lower back. Confident big devil, you thought, sitting down and watching him fold his tall frame onto the fairly small chair, then sliding his long legs under the table.

Spending the next couple of hours with Billy had actually been enjoyable, you thought, as you listened to him telling you some more about his friends Frank and Curtis. He’d told you about serving in the Marines and setting up Anvil once he’d left. You got the feeling that he’d only scratched the surface about it, though.

You’d only just met of course, however you found yourself wanting to know more about the tall ex-Marine.

And you hadn’t told him everything about yourself either. He now knew you were in the catering industry, but you’d skirted round telling him the details about your two cafes, you weren’t sure why. Maybe you wanted to retain a bit of mystery, you thought, mildly annoyed at yourself for feeling the need to do so.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He had asked you why you’d owed your cousin a favour. So you found yourself telling him all about it, and he’d barked out a huge laugh when you’d mentioned ‘possibly’ assaulting your ex and the girl he’d been with. And another one, when you confessed you’d been taken into police custody.

“I’m drinkin’ with a criminal?!” he’d grinned, “Oh, I think I should be leaving right now.” You’d slapped him on the arm, “Shut up, you. It was in self-defence.” He raised his eyebrows nearly up into his hairline, “And how do you make that out?” “My eyes were attacked by what they saw!” you protested, and both of you started laughing at that.

“So he’s an ‘ex’ now, is he?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer, which he’d switched to after one whisky. “You bet your life he is! No man treats me like that,” you shook your head, sinking some of your own beer, which you’d joined him in drinking. His dark eyes found yours, “What would you’ve done if you’d found him actually fucking her?”

Your eyes went wide, “Oh, that’s an easy question, Mr Russo. I’d’ve chopped off some of his lower extremities, of course!”

His screwed his eyes up in mock pain, “Woahhh!!! Brutal.” You shrugged, “Well, you asked.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Back to the car soon after that, then heading to your apartment after Billy offered to drop you off.

That was after he’d asked if you’d wanted to continue the evening at his place. You’d politely replied ‘thanks but no thanks’ or words to that effect. He’d accepted your answer gracefully, so here you were. Truthfully you’d thought about saying yes - he was really hot, and the two of you had been flirting all evening - but you decided you didn’t want to go down the one-night-stand road with him.

You got the feeling that Billy probably indulged in a lot of those. You’d felt some female eyes boring into the back of your head while you were in the bar, and had turned round to find at least three women staring at you as if they wanted you to spontaneously combust.

And you were better than that, you thought, deserved more than one night of sex (never mind how good you were sure it would be) and a walk of shame in the morning.

The car drew up outside your apartment block, and Billy switched off the engine before releasing his seat belt. You looked over at him, smiling, “Why’d you unbuckle, Billy? You’re not coming in,” smiling even wider at him. He smirked, “You sure about that...?” running his long fingers along your arm. You nodded, “Absolutely sure.” He sighed, “Well, I’ve been tryin’ all evening and got nowhere.. so I’ll need to make do with this...” and his mouth was on yours in an instant.

His hand slid up to the nape of your neck and into your hair, pulling you closer to him at the same time. Your hands landed on his chest, subtly stroking his toned muscles. Wanting to deepen the kiss, he sneakily nipped at your bottom lip, his tongue making its way into your mouth as soon as you opened it slightly in surprise. But you weren’t complaining.

Eventually you both had to come up for air, and eyes still closed, you felt his fingers gently running over your cheek, then heard him say your name, voice low and husky. “I wanna see you again.”

You took a breath, before nodding. “Okay, Billy. Call me.” You’d decided to put the ball in Casanova’s court.

He smiled, “You haven’t given me your number. Tryin’ to ditch me?” You dug out one of your business cards from your wallet, and handed it over. It just had your numbers and registered company name on it. “There you go. Let’s just see if you call,” you smirked, “I bet you’re one of these ’treat em mean’ types, aren’t ya Billy?” He started laughing, shaking his head, “Nah, not me,” leaning in and kissing you briefly again.

“I will call you, that’s a promise,” he said as you opened the car door and got out. You smiled back at him, “I believe you, thousands wouldn’t. Night, Billy.”

“Sleep well, sweetheart,” you heard, then in a lower tone, “I’ll be lyin’ awake thinking of what I’m missing out on.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next morning arrived too soon. You’d dragged yourself up to jump into the shower, which did its job of fully waking you up, so you managed to arrive at your office with at least a bit of a spring in your step.

Your office was above your first café in Chelsea, near the Market. It wasn’t huge, but it was well-equipped and decorated exactly as you liked it. It had a large picture window which let in lots of natural light, and had a view towards 14th Street Park and the Hudson. Entry was via the café, so you made your way through, calling out a ‘buon giorno’ to your three co-workers.

None of you were actually Italian, but it had become a tradition and one of those silly in-jokes between co-workers. Which of course no-one else would find amusing in the slightest but it made sense to you guys, as your café/patisseries were named after Italian cities, and because Italians don’t generally call cafés, cafés ...you had Bar Venezia and Bar Firenze. Clichéd? Oh yes. Did you care? Not in the slightest.

You were incredibly proud of your business and your team. The hard scrabble to get the financing together had been really stressful, but it had all come together in the end with the bank and the investors and now, here you were, captain of your own ship, so to speak.

The two cafés had similar decor, simple but elegant, based on cafés you’d visited in various countries across the world. The second café was not too far away in Greenwich Village. They gave out a nice relaxed vibe just as you’d aimed for and you felt blessed - business was good. You had a good mix of regulars and passing trade, and you’d nodded and smiled at a couple of those regular customers as you’d made your way through.

The morning phone call for a catch-up with your other site made, you were now currently reviewing a whole stack of statistics, and they were beginning to swim in front of your eyes. So you weren’t upset when the internal phone rang, and Jake, your right-hand man, told you that you had a visitor who wouldn’t give his name. “What?” you said, “is he selling something?”

“I don’t think so,” said Jake in a very low voice, so you guessed that Mystery Man was standing somewhere near him. You sighed, “Oh, I’ll be right down.” Anything to get away from the stats for a while, and you quite looked forward to ripping him a new one if he was trying to sell you something.

The first person you spotted as you came through the internal door to the café was Billy Russo. You should’ve guessed, really. He was resplendent in yet another expensive suit, hair perfect, jawline with its beard as sharp as you remembered it. His eyes were locked on you, gleaming with mischief as he anticipated your reaction to his unannounced appearance in your domain.

You came to a halt in front of him, then glanced at Jake as he stood watching you a little nervously. “Thanks Jake, it’s fine, I know him. Could you be an absolute gem and get me a double macchiato, an Americano and a small selection of the pastries, please?” Jake nodded, “Sí, subito.”

You indicated for Billy to follow you to a table at the far end of the bar, tucked away beside the exposed brick wall and near the window, out of earshot of the staff and patrons. You both sat, Billy saying, “Good morning, sweetheart,” as he did. “And good morning to you, Stalker Boy.” Billy grinned, leaning towards you and almost whispering, “That’s so cute, givin’ me a nickname already and I haven’t even got you in my bed yet.” You rolled your eyes heavenwards, sighing out, “Billy! This is my workplace.”

He smiled, “And very impressive it is too, I love it. You have exquisite taste.” “Yes, I know,” you smiled back, “thanks for confirming that.” Now he laughed, and you tried not to stare too much, thinking how good he looked when he did. Jake came over with your coffees and pastries, and you smiled fondly at him as he put them down on the table. “Grazie mille, caro,” you thanked him.

Billy frowned slightly, “Very friendly, huh... you & him, then?” You smirked, “Jealous, Mr Russo?” He scoffed as he picked up a couple of sugar packs and shook them, before pouring them into his coffee. “Just nosy, that’s all.” “Jake is the first person I hired, and he’s just the best. But me and him? No... he likes men. Want me to set you up?” He put his head back and laughed. “No... but thanks for offering. I’m busy over here tryin’ to set myself up with you, in case you hadn’t noticed.” You shook your head, laughing while looking down at the table. This guy is relentless, you thought with a little shiver of undeniable excitement.

He picked up one of the little freshly-baked pastries and bit into it, an appreciative expression on his face as he chewed it. “How’d you manage to guess how I like my coffee?” he carried on. “It’s my business to know my customers,” you shrugged, “and looking at you, Billy Russo, you just scream black watered-down espresso to me, especially having been in the Marines and all,” you grinned. He smirked back at you, “Yeah, well, you nailed it - much as I hate to admit it. And going back to the nicknames thing, you should really call me Sniper Boy.”

“Wow, really?” you replied, eyes wide. Yeah, you’d felt a dangerous vibe coming off Billy and now you knew why. Nodding, he took another bite of his pastry and said round it, “Haven’t you googled me yet, then? I googled you.” “Hey, you’re going to be Stalker Sniper Boy now. And no, I didn’t have time.”

“You’re not doing anything for my ego, you know.”

“That’s not my job,” you shrugged again.

“You’re givin’ me such a hard time, here,” his dark eyes staring into yours, and you felt yourself almost drowning in them. “I’d just like to take you to dinner, that’s all. Friday night, 8pm? I’ll pick you up at your place.”

And while your head screamed ‘Say no!’ at you, your treacherous mouth opened up and said, “Yes, fine. 8 pm and don’t be late.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d walked him to the door when he said he’d better get going. As you reached it, long fingers quickly made their way to the back of your neck, pulling your head towards his and simultaneously, his lips met yours in a long kiss. You tried to pull away from him but he had you in a vice-like grip, and took his own sweet time before breaking away. He placed a second chaste kiss on your cheek and started towards the door, “See you Friday,” in a low voice, paired with a smouldering look at you as he left.

Jake, your two other co-workers Gabrielle and Steve, and your regulars were unsurprisingly all staring at you with blatant and avid interest. Your ex had very rarely visited you at work and when he had, you’d never indulged in PDA’s. You could feel the hot blush on your face as you tried to look nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Nothing to see here,” you muttered and scooted across the café as quickly as you could, heading for the sanctuary of your office.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[babylooneytoonz]

Power Struggle

Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader

Requested by : @peakyfooky

So unfortunately I clicked on the delete button instead of the edit button and my work just went down the drain. I feel so pissed rn. I'm so sorry, @peakyfooky. Here's the request. Again.

Summary - Being an assassin was all fun and a right handed game until Tommy Shelby fucked up in an important mission and almost got you killed. The only good thing to come out of it was a hinted confession and a heated moment of passion.

Warnings: Cursing, Explicit language, SMUT SMUT SMUT, Sex . Reader's a badass in this one.

The rumours were many. Some said that she was a mythical creature, a story cooked up by mothers to get their children to sleep at nights, while some felt that she was a woman long dead. They said that she walked through the streets of London at nights, shielded by the darkness, hidden from the human eye. They even said that she had a scarred face, and a story to tell, probably why she didn't show herself during daytime. She was looking for the man that had done this to her, scarred her face and once she found him, she would be gone.

The rumours appalled you but at the same time, they made you feel powerful. You were nothing they had described you as. You were beautiful, your face that of an angel, if one would look at it, they wouldn't suspect a thing.

You were not some creature from the storybooks, neither were you someone alien to this country. You considered yourself a businesswoman, and your business was killing people. Killing your targets. Being an assassin, a female assassin, and being a pretty good one, you were the topic of talks among people and a pretty frequent household name for the gangs, having been frequenting them, and doing their petty calling for years now. And they made sure your identity was kept hidden and you were paid handsomely.

And this is how you knew Thomas Shelby, the leader of the Peaky Blinders. You wouldn't lie to yourself, his summons were the ones that intrigued you the most. They were uncanny, came for you on those you had least expected them.

After a long night at the pub next door, you stumbled into your first floor shabby apartment, a good disguise for a woman like you who earned a lot for every target eliminated. Your keys rattled into the keyhole and the door flung open, the familiar scent of your perfume, mixed with whiskey and cigarette smoke filling up your nostrils as you stepped inside and flung your heels off.

That's when you saw it. A card with a gold plated border stood on your bedside table, waiting for you to read it. You often wondered how Tommy managed to do it, sneak into your apartment to get you these notes but you didn't ask. It was Thomas Fuckin' Shelby and he had ways that you had probably never imagined of. To anyone who would see these notes, they would mistake these from a despaired lover, wanting to meet you again.

You flicked it roughly into your palm, turning it around as you read through it.

Meet me by the distillery when the moon's directly above us.

- T.S

He talked in riddles, riddles that no normal person would bother trying to solve but you knew his riddles by the back of your hand. Your eyes flew to the grandfather clock and you rushed out to your window, trying to look at the black starless sky, overcome with black humungous clouds with no moon in sight.You waited for a few minutes, waiting for the moon to show itself and when it finally showed you a peek, you knew Thomas would have seen it too. You grabbed your purse, flinging it across your shoulder and walked out of your apartment, making your way towards the distillery by the end of the street.

By the time you set foot there, you craned your neck upwards, trying to look at the moon that was now shining down on you and you knew it would be minutes before Thomas Shelby showed himself. Years for working for this man, he still hadn't learnt a thing about punctuality. Just then, a twig snapped behind you, causing you to slowly turn towards the approaching figure with a smug look on your face, "I am a busy woman, Shelby. I cannot always be here at your whims and fancies."

Under the pale moonlight, you saw his lips twitch, his hand mechanically moving up to his lips, his cigarette plucked between his lips as he inhaled the smoke that coiled around him.

"I hope you have something good for me. Something better than the man you gave me the last time. That took fucking two minutes. This better be worth my time."

Tommy took a step closer, the cigarette butt dropping from his hand as he stepped on it. Now you could see him clearly, his handsome features and his chiseled jaw struck out.

"Luca Changretta."

Two words were spoken and the smirk on your face went up your ears.

"I hope the pay's good."

"I'll triple it once you get me the news he's fuckin' gone." Tommy's ice like voice reached your ears and you just smacked your lips together, crossing your arms over your chest.

"So, when are we fuckin' doing this?"

-

Pretending to be a whore was easy. All you had to do was wear a skimpy dress, show a little cleavage, put on red lipstick and there you go, you were ready. Once you were ready, you looked at yourself in the mirror. The woman that looked back at you was someone you hardly recognised, but maybe that was what you always wanted.

Taking a deep breath, you finally pushed yourself out of the shabby bathroom at the back of the pub, your heels clicking against the pavement as you strutted towards the noisy entrance. You could hear loud chatters and occasional bangs, banging of fists, and even breaking of glasses and you rolled your eyes, cringing at the state of disorientation most of these men were in.

You placed your hand on the door, pushing it open as you stepped in, smacking your lips together. Your eyes scanned through the men, some of them now looking at you with hunger in their eyes. "Who the hell ordered a whore, ay?! Send her over once you are done mate!" You heard someone yell.

If you had to do this without testing your patience any further, you needed a drink. You went up straight to the bar, slamming your fist angrily against it to get the bartender's attention. His head snapped towards you, his mouth slightly falling, his eyes involuntarily moving and resting on your chest for a bit.

"Whiskey." You said, dryly. "And stop fuckin' staring at my chest."

The bartender cleared his throat, a red tint taking over his cheeks, flustered at being accused so pointedly. You saw him nod and rush into the backroom. You took this moment to look around, trying to spot the man you were looking for. This is where Thomas Shelby had told you he would be.

The bartender emerged with your drink in his hand, placing it on the counter in front of you. Your fingers curled around it, your hand flying to your lips, your ruby tainted lips pressing against the glass as the liquid gushed through your throat. Without wasting any more time, placing the glass back down, you leaned forward, watching the bartender in front of you struggle to keep his wandering eyes from taking a sneak peak at your cleavage. You placed your elbows on the counter to support you, looking at him.

"Where's Luca Changretta?"

The bartender looked at you, his eyebrow shooting up.

"Oh, you are Mr. Changretta's, ah, guest. The first door on the left." You nodded coyly, your fingers curling around the glass, your eyes fixed at the bartender as you watched him uncomfortably move away, scrubbing the counter on the other side. You brought up the glass and downed the entire contents of it, almost slamming the glass back down.

Following the bartender's instructions, you found your way to the first door on the left. It was a mahogany door, shut, but you could hear muffled shouting coming from the inside. Not bothering to knock, you flung the door open, barging your way in, your heels clicking against the floor.

Luca was sitting on a couch, his legs propped up against the coffee table, his drink in his hand as he was probably in the middle of an argument with one of his henchmen.

"Do you really not know how to knock?" Luca didn't move, only his lips did, as he eyed you his gaze, dwindling from distaste to full of lust.

"Not really, Mr. Changretta. You see, I just did my nails. Trust me, these things do take a lot of my time, that and making sure men don't leave disappointed." Your smirk reached your eye as your hand fumbled against your box of cigarettes, pulling a stick out of it and flinging it to your lips.

You heard Luca mutter a get the fuck out under his breath and the henchman rushed off, leaving you alone with the man. He slowly stood up, taking a sip of his drink, twirling his whiskey glass in his hand as he made his way up to you, looking at you from head to toe. "I didn't ask for a whore, now did I? Not that I remember. Who sent you?"

"No one asks for me, Mr. Changretta, I just flow with the wind. I just know who might have a need for me without actually him coming to me first. I see power, immense power and that's where I go. No one sends me." You took a step closer, lifting your palm and placing it on Luca's arm, using your pointed nail to move your index finger downwards, causing him to grit his teeth as your nail tore through his suit, almost scraping through his flesh. "Sorry about the suit. Where did you get these made?"

"Fenacci, Italian. He's my uncle."

"Well he must be a talented man." You cooed.

A sadistic snicker escaped his lips, causing you to give him a fake smile, although you knew how disgruntled you felt. The things money made people do.

"Now Mr. Changretta– "

"Call me Luca." He cut you off, his hand finally fixing on your hip, his fingers stroking your flesh over your satin dress.

"Luca, what would you like me to do to please you?" You pushed yourself away from him, watching his face flash a look of annoyance, his fingers twitching when it lost contact with you. Slowly, you took off your dress, only to reveal the soft, almost sheer negligee that you were wearing underneath it, exposing your legs and every bit of your skin. You saw him give you a quick do over his eyes flashing with his desire for you and this caused your lips to involuntarily curl into a smirk. You took a step towards him, placing your palm on his chest and using force to push him back against the couch, taking him by surprise.

"You are a man of substance, Mr. Changretta. I love it."

You placed yourself slowly over his lap, letting him wrap his arm around your waist, a low, throaty growl almost leaving his lips. As you moved on to straddle him, his fingers moved all over your arms, trying to feel the softness of your skin.

Taking that second of distraction in your stride, your hand flew up to the pin that held your hair, the pin of poison as you called it, and you pulled it out, your hair now falling loosely over your almost bare shoulders. Clutching the pin in your hand, you were ready to push the pin into the side of his neck, ready to end it once and for all but before you could do that, he grabbed you by your shoulder, pushing you away with such force, you fell back, crashing against the coffee table and fell to the floor.

"I least expected Mr. Shelby to be sending in assassins dressed as whores. Turns out Miss Gray was right. He did send you to kill me."

Your rage filled eyes met his, your finger still clutching the pin, while his fingers slid into his suit pocket and he pulled out his gun, ready to aim it at you. You gave him a smile, not dropping his gaze for a second. There was no way you would let him have you fail. You had never failed before. Fucking Polly Gray. You didn't understand how Luca Changretta already knew what Thomas Shelby's plan was.

You would have pondered more, had your eyes not noted how his finger moved to the trigger, ready to squeeze it. The moment passed by in a blur of a second, you adeptly caught his wrist at the right time, causing his aim to falter but the bullet shot of the barrel before the gun fell off his hand, slicing into your arm and lodging inside. You hissed in pain, your arm slowly turning red as droplets of your blood rolled down and fell to the floor, drop by drop. "Fucking hell," You cursed, your palm flying to the hole in your arm, feeling the warm gush of your blood, your wound throbbing under your touch while at the same time, you used your foot to kick the gun that had fallen out of Changretta's hand under the cabinet.

"Who the fuck are you, woman? You're no whore, that I'm sure of. I wonder how much that bastard paid you to do his dirty work. I'm ready to pay you triple– " He grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up to your feet which was a pretty bad move at his end. This was where you shot out your foot towards him suddenly, causing him to stumble and fall backwards. You let out a loud shriek, pulling yourself on top of him, straddling his waist, your palms coming to rest on his throat as you started squeezing it.

"I'm your death, motherfucker."

Luca Changretta started coughing, his eyes bobbing out as he tried to get your hands off his throat, but you just kept squeezing harder, pushing down at him with all the weight in your body. You were smiling now, watching life drain out of this man so easily, the throbbing in your wounded arm completely forgotten. You had gotten so used to seeing their faces when you killed them, it really didn't matter when they came back to haunt you at nights.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp prick at the side of your neck, the sudden impact of which caused you to loosen your grip on Changretta. Clutching your neck, you fell to your side, your eyes falling on your poisoned pin that was in Changretta's hand. Your chest heaving up and down, your heart raced so bad, you felt it was going to stop. Pain spread through your body, slowly, like a snake coiling at your insides as you started coughing out foam, your vision blurring.

"You can never be the death of me, bitch."

The last thing you saw before you shut your eyes was the door flinging open and the blue eyed gang leader rushed in, with a few men on his tail. You heard the sound of gunshots and screams but it all went black.

-

Your head hurt and so did every crevice in your body, as though someone had run a truck over you. It felt like you had been asleep for ages. The room smelled like a hospital room. After what felt like eternity, your eyes fluttered open. Even moving your eyes around took most of your energy. The room was warm and so were the covers that covered your body. Slowly, you started regaining shards of memory of what had happened that day. You had failed, for the first time ever. But worse than that, you wanted to bash Thomas Shelby's skull, for betraying you, for telling Polly Gray. He was responsible for your failure.

You winced as you sat up, your eyes flying to your bandaged arm. If the humiliation of failing that one thing you were good at wasn't enough, you had been shot and fucking poisoned.

You slid against the edge of the bed, your feet finding the floor as you hoisted yourself up, your legs almost wobbling at your first attempt. Five minutes later, you were walking down the hallway of what you guessed was the Arrowe House screaming like a mad woman, “Thomas! THOMAS SHELBY! FOR FUCK'S SAKE–"

Just then, the door to your right opened, and someone grabbed your wrist, pulling you inside and the door slammed shut behind you.

"My son's fuckin' asleep in the next room. Can you stop shouting at the top of your lungs? And who the fuck asked you to strut around the house when you are in no condition to get out of bed?"

You looked at the man in front of you and you wanted to gage his eyeballs out. Suppressing the urge to scream at him, you just pushed him away and weakly made your way up to his desk, grabbing his box of cigarettes.

"How the fuck am I even alive? Thanks to you, Changretta had stabbed me with my own poison needle. How the fuck did Polly even find out about the whole plan?" You struggled to light a match, a cigarette now pressed to your lips. Thomas snatched the matchbox from your hand, lighting a match for you and bringing it close to your face.

"Will you just sit down first." He motioned for you to take a seat. Wordlessly, you lowered yourself on it, your eyes trained on him, waiting for him to speak.

"I might have mistakenly said some things to her. I know, I'm sorry –"

You were not having it. You stood up, your fists clenched by your sides as you stormed towards him, almost pushing him angrily.

"You almost got me killed Tommy. You knew my fucking rules. No one except us should have known." He grabbed you by your arm in an effort to catch you if you fell but you just pushed his hands away.

"For fucks sake, will you stop with the dramatics, it was a drunken mistake. Polly came to me and she confessed to having told Changretta about you. That's when I gathered the boys and –"

You shook your head in disgust and cut him off, as your hand mechanically flew up to your lips and you took a drag of your cigarette, spitting out your words, "You wanted to be a fuckin' hero, did you not? You broke our deal, Tom. And then you save my life like this."

You didn't realise how the word Tom had so effortlessly slipped out of your mouth until you felt his lips suddenly press against yours, your eyes widening in shock at the suddenness of it, an electrifying feeling filling you up.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, licking your lips inadvertently when he pulled back.

"You don't fucking shut up, do you?"

"How dare you –" You didn't complete your sentence. Instead, you pushed Tommy to the wall, your hands tugging at his waistcoat to take it off as your lips hungrily devoured his plump ones. When you finally broke the kiss, you didn't look at Tommy like you did before. There was something different about him, something that made you want to explore. Your fingers tore through the buttons of his shirt, until he was standing bare chested in front of you, his lips slightly parted, his chest heaving up and down, his hand resting on your waist as he looked down at you, his eyes thick with desire.

"What was that for?"

"For almost getting me killed and then saving my life." You muttered, sarcastically and he just scoffed.

"I couldn't have left you to die." He deadpanned.

"Oh, and why's that?"

You bit your lip, slowly looking up at him when it hit you. "Don't answer that. Please don't. I can't take it right now."

"You're so –"

"Get your fuckin' pants off."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

It was as though your mind had exploded. All you saw was fire around you, the fire that could only be vanquished by him. Impatiently, you strode up to him, unbuttoning his pants while he just kept staring at you, his mouth almost open. You slid your palm through the waistband of his pants, stroking over his already hardened manhood, watching him as his eyes clenched shut and a low moan escaped those lips.

What you felt right now could only be expressed as sheer torment. You were emotionally drained and physically broken, and the only thing that could calm you down or make it even worse was what you were about to do. And you weren't going to waste any fucking time.

Thomas Shelby didn't realise what hit him. The next minute, he was sprawled over his desk, his pants lowered at his ankles, with you now straddling his waist, your eyes looking down at him. You wouldn't deny, he really looked beautiful under you. And you were sure, he was liking you on top of him.

It was a Power Struggle. But you always won. Atleast with Thomas Shelby.

"You are infuriating." You hissed, as you started rolling your hips against his erect cock, only the fabric of your underwear barring you from taking him in. The aching pain in your core was frustrating, getting even worse with each stroke of your core against the mountain pressed up against it.

"And you're a fucking tease," He moaned under you, licking his lips as he tried to adjust his hips to feel your warmth better.

"Stop. Don't fucking move until I say you do. We do this my way." You slapped his chest lightly, only to get a frustrated growl from him. A part of you wanted to tease Thomas Shelby to the point he was squirming, but the other part of you wanted to satiate the burning inside of you.

"I'm so fucking angry at you, Shelby, but good thing I know how to calm myself down in the most unholy ways." You lifted yourself up, Tommy's adept fingers worked to get your panties off you and once you had gotten yourself free from it, you took a deep breath, looking down at him before you went down on him. Using your hand to guide his cock, you slowly mounted yourself into him, feeling his thickness fill you up, a symphony of curses and grunts escaping both your lips as he filled you up.

Once you had adjusted to him, your slickness made it easier for you to build a firm pace, your hands using his chest to hold yourself on top of him, his hands holding you from your waist for support. Your body trembled and your mouth spilt vulgar curses as you slowly built up your pace, bouncing up and down his length, the study filling up with the sounds of your wetness of your core and flapping of your skin against his. His hands left your waist, moving up until he was squeezing your breasts, his fingers toying with your nipples, enhancing the pleasure you were feeling.

"Is that all you got?" Tommy moaned and this caused you to throw your head back and let out a dry laugh, only to end in a moan again as you felt pleasure built inside you, ready to burst any time now. By the looks of it, you could see that Tommy was close too, but he wouldn't give you the pleasure of knowing how good you were at this.

"Keep up with me." You swatted him again, deliberately slowing your pace, knowing how close you both were to your climaxes. He only slapped your arse in retaliation, budging you to keep up the pace.

"(Y/N)" Tommy grunted your name in pleasure, his fingernails digging into your hips.

"Say it again, love."

"Fuck." Tommy cursed, his breathing hitching as you continued bouncing on his swollen cock. Your hands found your way to his neck, your palms wrapping around as you started choking him, not hard enough for him to not breathe but hard enough for him to look up at you, his eyes burning with pleasure.

"Say it again, darling."

"(Y/N), fuck." He groaned. As if this was the push that was needed, you let out a whimper mixed with a moan, as you rode him to his own climax as well as your own, his nails digging into your flesh, panting into his sturdy chest.

You rolled off him and collapsed on the desk next to him, staring at the ceiling of his study, your chest heaving up and down, the smell of sex and cigarettes now filling up your nostrils.

"Please don't fuck up the next time, Shelby."

You felt his lips press against the skin on your bare shoulder in a kiss, followed by a hum as he pushed himself up from the desk, "That fuckin' poison pin. I had thought I lost you. You were lucky the doctor drained out the poison. If being an assassin is what you want to do, then we do this my way, not yours." He reached out, pulling up his pants and grabbed a spare tee shirt from one of the drawers of his study, pulling it over his head, looking at you once before he stormed out of his study.

(GIF is not mine, found it on Google. Let me know if it's yours and I will credit you.)

[mythiccheroacademia]

“Private villa and the fur chinchilla, When he post me, all the hoes get sicker. Fuckboy killer, I don’t need fillers, Never been a lame so the real bitches feel it.”                          —Saweetie

Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Dabi X Reader Context: Everything is the same, but the LOV are rich af bc they be scamming the hell out of people. Warnings: explicit language, drug and alcohol use, sexual content (no straight up smut tho), nudity ig but implied bc this takes place at a strip club lol

All characters are 21+

A/N: When I tell you I had way too much fun making this little header...someone needs to take photoshop away from me. Quickly! Also, sorry if your name is Rebecca, MJ, or Rinah. I promise I like you. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

Dabi | Tap In

It had been a long week.

After dealing with the authorities and keeping tabs on his sperm donor—as he liked to put it—Dabi needed a way to take the stress away.

And he knew the perfect way to do so.

Dabi took a long inhale of the thick blunt in his hand before puffing out a cloud of smoke that mixed along with the misty air. The multicolored strobe lights shined over the dancers who skillfully spun around the pole. The cheers and chatters within the crowd swirled well into the music and quickly became background noise.

He sunk into the couch, watching the scene with a lazy gaze, and relaxed as the hands of giggling waiters and waitresses smoothed over the expensive material of his coat.

“Feeling good, big boss?” a pretty redhead asked. She’s no stranger to him, but he cant remember if her name started with a C or an R.

Regardless of her name, she was good with her hands. After a minute of staring at a dancer performing an impressive back hook spin, Dabi was quick to groan in relief when she massaged a knot out of his neck.

“Fantastic,” he sighed.

An attractive man, with hair like gelatin, popped up on his other side, stealing his attention with the drink in his hand. The woman glared at him in distaste.

“Would you care for a Martini? I know you like them stirred,” he purred, eyes on the dark-haired man’s crystal embedded watch before they slowly eyed his exposed chest.

Dabi took another puff, thinking about if he was in the mood for it. He was just about to answer when someone else chimed in.

“You had that last week. What about a Whiskey Sour?” This time it was a woman with snake like features. She leaned in, slim tongue hissing dangerously next to his lips. “You can never go wrong with that.”

“Everybody knows Dabi prefers that on Saturday’s,” the first women huffed.

“And everyone knows Dabi prefers a Screwdriver on a night like this,” another person said, their hand gliding along his chest. Dabi shrugged but didn’t pay much attention to them. The waiter sent a challenging smirk to the redhead. “Something you probably wouldn’t know much about, Rebecca.”

Ahh so that’s what her name was. I knew it had an R and a C in it.

“Fuck off, MJ.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Here we go,” the man with gelatin hair grumbled.

They ignored him and continued their bickering.

“Just say your jealous of me and go!”

“Jealous? Baby, I wouldn’t be jealous of you on your best day. Like, ew.”

The snake-like woman rolled her eyes in irritation. “I can’t stand you bitches,” she muttered under her breathe.

Rebecca’s eyes turned a violent red as she seethed in anger. “Why you dirty little—“

“Am I interrupting something?”

For the first time since he got to the club, Dabi’s eyes found focus. Real focus. His crystal blue eyes lit up against the darkness of room when your voice silenced the petty argument going on.

You stood in front of him, chin high and eyes confident despite the four pairs of unfriendly glares on you. It was always like this. The dark-haired man could walk into any room and be immediately surrounded by people who shamelessly fawned over him. Whether it was for his money, his power, his undeniable looks, or the mysterious aura that followed him, they were on the man the moment he made his presence known. They’d light his cigar, buy him drinks, and flaunt whatever body parts they needed to for a second of his attention.

Sometimes, Dabi would mess around when he had the time. Other times, he’d just enjoy the attention. But all of that went out the window when you came into the picture. And whether they wanted to admit it or not, everybody knew it.

For some reason, he just couldn’t get out of his head no matter how many times he fucked you silly.

Dabi liked the knowing smirk on your lips as his eyes raked over your face and body, committing every feature to memory as if he hadn’t had the pleasure of indulging in it before.

It was something about the way you wore the clothes he bought for you so well. It made his pants uncomfortably tight in the best way.

“Nothing at all, doll-face. Mind keeping me company?” he said.

“Sure thing,” you shrugged.

You squeezed through the small parade he had going on, and plopped yourself right on his lap. Dabi happily attached his grip to the meat of your thigh, enjoying the way your hand raked down his tattooed neck.

“Why don’t you guys give us some privacy?” he off-handedly said. “Oh and Rinah was it? Can you get a Tequila Sunrise for Y/N? Two cherries. Gin tonic for me.”

“You remembered,” you chuckled, sensually dragging your thumb across his bottom lip.

“Of course I did, babe.”

The four internally groaned as Dabi seemed to become enraptured in your gaze. 

“It’s Rebecca,” the woman muttered before going off to get the drink. They all dispersed, leaving the two of you alone.

After your drink was made, you two spent the next half hour talking, laughing, drinking and smoking together. You enjoyed each other’s company. It was easy between you two. Your adventures were wild from leaving the country to spending nights skinny dipping in random pools. It was fun and there wasn’t much commitment on either part, however, despite indulging in your separate endeavors, you always came back to each other. And you would never admit it to one another, but there was comfort to be taken in that.

Before you knew it, your legs were seated on either side of his hips and his hands were feeling on your ass. The curtains surrounding the lounge chair had been closed long ago and it was only a matter of time before you’d take advantage of the privacy.  

“So remind me again why I haven’t heard from you in two weeks?” you questioned, a teasing smile in your voice.

You rolled your head and fluttered your eyes closed as Dabi trailed hot kisses on your chest and shoulders.

“Police were on our ass. Had to move locations. Important shit,” he responded between each kiss.

“More important than lil’ ole me?”

“Can’t finance your shopping addiction if I’m in jail, sweetheart.”

You almost gave up your playfulness when his veiny hand gripped your jaw and his tongue slowly traveled up the length of your neck. If the bulge against your thigh was anything to go by, he was more than excited, but you wanted to have your fun.

A slight grind of your hips had him growling against you. You threaded your hands through the back of his hair to pull his head back. 

“But you promised we’d go to that Italian restaurant downtown. I was really in the mood for some pasta,” you faux pouted.

Your puffed out lips and slow grinding took him over the edge.

“Then I’ll take you to fucking Italy next week to make up for it,” he rumbled before swinging you down so you were on your back. You laughed at his antics but it was short lived as he gave you a kiss that made you see stars.

Once you separated, a silver line of saliva breaking your connection, a devilish smile took over your lips as he hovered above you with one of his own.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you said.

He laughed through his nose and shook his head. You were a pain in the ass, yet here he was ready to devour you at any second.

Dabi licked his lips before lowering himself down your body.

“Now if you don’t mind,” he began. Your stomach erupted in butterflies as his eyes remained on your own. He slowly pulled your pants off you in waves and sent you a smirk that gave you goosebumps.

“I’m in the mood for something a little different.”

[ayellowcurtain]

I can be your lover

Part 5

6 months later

Robbe bites the corner of his bottom lip while staring down, pulling the skin of his thumb until it hurts, ripping it off, brushing the dead skin to the ground carelessly. He grew used to just sitting here and being watched, it doesn’t bother him anymore, not too much at least.

He doesn’t know what to say. He’s been coming to therapy every week in hopes it would help him figure himself out but he feels the worst he’s ever felt.

“I feel useless.” Robbe answers the question that he didn’t get today yet. It’s always the first one so he decided to spare them the trouble. He looks through his eyelashes, finding his therapist staring at him in disapproval of using words such as useless to describe himself.

“I feel like everything is out of my control so there’s no point in trying, really.”

There’s a long silence, a slow breath out and Robbe sighs, relaxing on his chair, meeting his doctor’s eyes, finally even if he doesn’t feel completely comfortable doing so. He feels uneasy, exposed and it bothers him to have to deal with it.

“What happened?” Robbe looks at the notepad on her lap, all his stupid insecurities and mental problems probably written down for anyone to read if given the chance.

“Me and Sander had a fight.” It was the worst fight ever, with them talking over each other and loudly. Robbe loves Sander the same but it feels like it’s really the end this time. They can’t go on like this anymore, Robbe is really at the edge. “I don’t want to do this anymore but I still love him so it’s just...fucked up.”

He does some of the breathing exercises he grew used to doing in the past few months like she suggests he to do often when he’s feeling like this but he knows it won’t help this time, he’s too deep inside his head to let the anger and frustration go every time he breathes out, pretending he’s also letting go of the negative thoughts about himself. He should have cancelled this session because it’s not working, not even talking about it makes him change his mind, see things differently.

He should have stayed home and studied for his finals, it would be a better use of his time. She gives him a notepad and a pencil to do whatever he wants with it: write, draw, scribble. She doesn’t say that but it’s obviously her way to keep him from pulling more skin off his fingers. It’s already a little too late, most of his fingers are burning already but he tries to keep his hands busy anyway, drawing random shapes and lines.

Robbe puts his pencil down when there’s no more room in the page to draw.

“I need to walk away. It’s for the best for both of us. I’ll block him everywhere so I can’t see things and I’ll just let him be while he’s away. And if he ever comes back, maybe we’ll talk if he also feels like it.”

“I think you should calm down, think about it for a few days and not make a one way decision when there are two people involved.” Robbe looks at her and gives back the notepad, “I think he would like you to hear what he has to say about your decision. You two have been in an intimate relationship for a while. Not just romantically but as very close friends.”

Robbe shakes his head, putting his hands inside his pockets, closing his fingers around his thumb until it hurts, “I can’t talk to him or I’ll change my mind.”

-

12 months later

Robbe drops his keys on the little bench he bought to put right next to his door, the exact same layout as it was when he lived with Zoe and Milan (and then Senne. And Sander.). It was another long day of college and work, the last one of an endless week. He turns the lights on and takes his shoes off, kicking them under the bench. Tomorrow he will clean and organize properly. For now, he’ll leave everything as it is. The good side of living alone. The rest sucks but Robbe will never tell anyone about feeling like that. He never thought he was the type to need people around him every day, all day until he had to come home to an empty apartment every night.

It doesn’t happen that often, especially on the weekends, considering his friends are all over the city these days but it happens too often for Robbe’s liking. Zoe and Milan are out of town together, Senne offered to keep him company but they would be two grumpy and tired men so it would be useless. Jens is out of town too, Aaron and Amber are not an option - Robbe can’t have a disgustingly in love couple around anymore - and Moyo is with Britt and Noor. It’s good to be alone sometimes, he tries to convince himself as he reaches the kitchen, opening the fridge. Nothing other than the beers at the bottom excites him so ordering something for dinner it is. Robbe is starving so he makes a very quick search of his phone and decides for the italian restaurant that promises to deliver his food in less than half an hour.

Robbe opens his first beer of the night and throws himself on his couch, looking around, feeling like it’s a new place all of a sudden. Sometimes it hits him that he has his own place now. And that he’s alone. Therapy has been helpful and he can tell the difference when he’s about to have some pretty bad days in the worst possible mood and when his reality is just underwhelming in his eyes and he’ll get over it soon enough. He never thought this would be his life. It’s not a bad one but it’s not what he had planned.

He forces himself to get up once he manages to change his mindset and he takes his clothes off, leaving it on the living room so it’s closer to the laundry machine once he’s clean. He turns some music on and puts it to play all over the apartment, putting his phone down, singing along to Bowie as he shaves the scruff that was starting to get out of hand on his face, he takes a quick shower and while he’s putting his clothes to wash, his food gets home.

Robbe rushes down to grab it and thanks the delivery boy, rushing back inside, lighting some candles just because they’re there, getting dusty and old. He never bothered to buy a dinning table because there’s a small island right there. He sits on the stool and eats, staring at his food and the candle in front of them. His instagram isn’t as updated as it used to.

A long time ago Robbe decided to give himself more time offline, focusing on college and his internship and he’s been good at keeping that mindset most of the time, afraid to spend too many hours per day online, looking for what he’s still having to choose, day in and day out, to keep his distance from so he doesn’t hurt Sander even more.

But he doesn’t care as much tonight, so he takes a picture of his dinner for one and the sad candle in front of him and posts it to his stories, locking his phone instantly, putting it down to eat in peace.

He keeps glancing at it, careful like it could burn if he dared to grab his phone and check. It would be a lie if he said he doesn’t miss Sander but he has learned to live with it. Long distance wasn’t going to work. Robbe is happy for the ones that can jump out of their comfort zone but he can’t and he’s okay with it by now, after months and months of therapy. The only thing he can do is not drag other people into living life this way too if they don’t feel like it.

Sander is happy somewhere else and Robbe is happy that he’s happy. Easy as that.

He eats his food and washes the dishes he left this morning right after or else he would get too tired to do it before going to bed and he doesn’t feel like waking up to a sink full of dirty dishes. He washes his clothes and folds them once they’re dry and warm out of the drier. Plays some video games, and finally crashes into his bed, searching for some comfort movie to watch as he falls asleep. He doesn’t last half an hour watching it, he’ll have to start again if he really wants to watch this movie some other time, but thankfully he had already scheduled his tv to turn off after one hour and a half.

He miraculously wakes up only once in the middle of the night and almost as an afterthought, like he would do so often when he was younger, Robbe grabs his phone to check for any new notifications. Robbe read a lot about algorithms when he had nothing better to do one day because it felt like it’s a theme lately so he knows it doesn’t mean shit but he can’t help but stare at the first name on the list of people who watched his sad dinner stories.

earthlinggoddity

There’s the red-ish circle around his name but Robbe puts his phone down, the screen still bright staring at his mattress as he rolls to the other side, pulling the heavy comforter to wrap around him like a tight burrito, and he closes his eyes again. If he’s still thinking about it tomorrow, with an awake and fully functioning brain, he’ll watch whatever Sander posted if it’s still there. He shouldn’t do it now, half asleep or Robbe won’t be able to go back to sleep thinking about how badly he misses Sander.

He can’t remember his dreams when he wakes up, it’s like he blinked and it was morning already. He feels rested but still mentally tired or empty, one of the two.

His phone is still right next to him, under the pillow he never uses and so he grabs it, checking the notification that just popped on his screen a few minutes ago from Moyo.

What are you doing today, my friend? Felt like we could go skate, smoke a little bit, for old time’s sake.

Robbe sighs, clicking on it, opening his conversation with Moyo.

That sounds like a perfect Saturday to me, my friend. Meet in one hour? I’m still in bed…

While he waits for the answer, the three dots already dancing on his screen, Robbe shakes his head. It’s still somewhat early, just now past eleven so he wonders if Moyo had any sleep. He does sound in a great mood though, Robbe is happy for him but also envying his enthusiasm about life, so early on a Saturday morning.

Jesus Christ, bro. You used to be an early bird. Working your ass off isn’t paying off, huh? One hour and don’t be fucking LATE!

Robbe knows what changed that he’s not an early, happy-chappy human anymore but he won’t bother anyone else with that conversation again. He pushes himself up to put some clothes on and go meet Moyo, making a pitstop for a quick breakfast on his way there.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Jay Halstead x Reader

The Return

Written by @anotheronechicagobog

Warnings: swearing, pregnancy, birth, medical jargon that may not be accurate, Erin Lindsay bashing

Meeting detective Hailey Upton had been more nerve wracking than meeting Jay’s brother Will. He and Hailey were just closer, they had the same job, saw the same things, and had an irreplaceable trusting bond. You never, at any point felt threatened or worried by her presence or relationship with Jay. It was because of their bond that you were nervous, it was important for her to give you the stamp of approval.

You’d all met up at a nice family owned Italian restaurant. You’d all talked about movies, the blackhawks, and food before finally coming to a crucial topic; work. You were an OR nurse at MED while putting yourself through med school, you’d seen and operated on enough cops to know what you were getting into. It could happen at any point, it could easily go south, and you would not be alone in the waiting room if it happened. Miraculously you passed with flying colours, becoming good friends with her.

After that you met the rest of the team when they all went to Adam and Kim’s place to watch the cubs game. Kim was glowing, pregnancy going well aside from her vicious morning sickness, and she took to liking you as well when you made sure she got to eat first. Adam, Kevin, and yourself bonded over your love of puns and bad jokes. Vanessa and Antonio started speaking in rapid Spanish with you, creating a quick and lovable bond. Hank just shook your hand and nodded at you, you weren’t sure what that meant but Antonio assured you it was a good thing.

——————————————————

You were putting the finishing touches on your ensemble for the CPD Chief’s gala when Jay appeared behind you. “Hey hon, are you ready to- holy fuck you’re gorgeous.”

“Thank you Jay. You look handsome.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

——————————————————-

You made your way to Vanessa who was talking with Kevin with a distressed look on her face. “Hey! What’s wrong? We’re at a party with an open bar, what’s with the long face?”

“Uh....... Nothing? You know what, let’s find Hailey. And bug her about Dr Bekker.” You already suspected something was off but knew for sure when you felt Jay go completely rigid. “Jay?” You’d turned to look at him and he was completely pale, looking like he was seeing a nightmare. You followed his eyes to a gorgeous woman standing next to Hank and arguing with Kim in a sleek black dress. “What is she doing here? Why is she here?”

“Who? Who is she Jay?” Kevin and Adam came up to try and support Jay, move him into a chair. The lost and betrayed look in his eyes made it all click in place for you. “Erin.” It was as if she heard you from across the room, she turned and looked at Jay before meeting your eyes with a guarded look.

————————————

You were all seated at the same table and it was fucking awkward. Jay had his arm or hand on or around you the whole time. Erin was clenching her jaw and looked like there should’ve been steam coming out of her ears. Food was served and speeches were made and it was clear that Erin was still unhappy. Despite the fact that she was seated across from him, Jay refused to look her in the eye. It wasn’t nerves, those had worn off, he was pissed. And rightfully so. Voight invited her as his plus one. He didn’t tell anybody, didn’t warn anybody. Everyone was exchanging funny stories, barring Jay, Erin, and Voight. Jay wasn’t opening his mouth except to eat, Voight was glared into silence, and Erin was always cut off by Kim or Hailey.

“So, Y/N/N, any funny patient stories for us?” Erin perked up at Adam’s question. “Oh, you’re a doctor?”

“No, I’m an OR nurse at Chicago med.”

“Hmph. Not smart enough to be a doctor, then?”

“I just couldn’t afford medical school at the time I went to university. I managed to save up enough and get enough scholarship money to start medical school and stuff a few years ago. So now I’m working part time in the OR and I finish medical school this year. As long as I do well, I’ll get a placement for my residency in three months.”

“Oh.”

“So, to answer Adam’s question, last week we had to surgically remove a brand-new toilet brush that a man had shoved so far up his own anus, that it looked like he had a bunny tail.” Kevin choked on his water for a moment before spitting it out all over the centrepiece flowers. “Hahaha, oh my god! Are you serious?!”

“Unfortunately.”

Erin’s bitter voice broke through the hyena-like laughter of the rest of the table. “Saying the word ‘anus’ is a bit uncouth don’t you think?” Kim stared at her, regarding her in disbelief as she mouthed the word ‘uncouth’.

“Not particularly, no, considering it is the medical term for that part of the body and part of the name of a planet.” You shrugged her comment and mood off. It was pretty damn clear why she was behaving like a bratty spoiled child, and it said a lot more about her than it did about you. Besides, it felt like it would be a complete waste of energy to entertain her need for a verbal martial arts battle. She just wasn’t worth it.

“She’s got a point, besides Lindsay, if you make what she says dirty that’s really on you and not her.” Jay shrugged and kiss the top of your forehead.

———————————————

You were encompassed in the warmth of Jay. Low jazz was playing through the speakers as the two of you swayed softly, your head on his chest soothed by his steady heartbeat. At some point Jay had started to hum along to the music and you felt all the stress and anxiety buried deep inside of you just melt away. Nothing but you and the man you love existed. You were in your own glowing golden bubble of warmth and love.

You moved your head up and kissed him on the side of the mouth, humming along with him. He spun you around, tugging a joyous laugh from you throat before tugging you back and leaning his forehead against yours. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, his around your lower back. Your noses moved around one another as your dancing slowed to a stop. It didn’t matter that you lived together, or that you’d been dating for four years, your heart was beating faster than it had the first time you kissed Jay. Suddenly your bubble had burst, you screamed and jumped away from Jay when you felt cold and wet all over your exposed back. The warmth was gone, replaced by a pitcher of ice and water that had been dumped on you courtesy of one Erin Lindsay.

———————————————

The floral smelling bath bomb you’d decided to finally use was just the thing to treat yourself to after your boyfriend’s ex decided to dump ice water on you at a public and major gala right before being called into an emergency at work. While your boyfriend had jumped into action, moving you towards the bathroom to dry up and offering his coat, your newly-made friends jumped to help you and defend you. A very angry and very pregnant Kim escorted you to her car with her husband while Voight made Jay and Erin ‘have a talk’. The only person who didn’t scowl at that news was Erin. Adam kept looking at you and asking if you were okay in the rear view mirror. “Adam, I’m okay. Annoyed, fuck yes, but I’m okay. And I know Jay will be too. I’m not worried.”

“You’re not? Even with their history?”

“No, I’m not worried. We talked about her when we started getting serious actually. She was an incredibly important person in his life, and she turned into a very vicious skeleton in the closet. I’ve got my own skeletons, too, everyone does. I know that he was hurt. Little shocked when he saw her at first, but Jay didn’t talk about everything that happened with her in depth with anyone but me. So I know what’s going on in his head, and I have a pretty good idea of what he’s going to say to her.”

You’d only been home (and dry) for half an hour before you got an ‘all hands on deck’ page from MED. Hastily pulling yourself together and running the three blocks between your apartment and the hospital. There had been a collision which caused several others, leading you to the OR for back to back surgeries for a total of fifteen hours. You’d been dismissed with the promise of forty eight hours off and an impressed nod from your boss.

You’d missed Jay because he’d had to go into work but smiled at the loving note he’d left on the fridge, along with a container of your favourite take out. Your heart absolutely soared at the thought of him.

Stepping out of the tub you patted yourself dry and dressed in soft shorts and sweater. Padding down to the kitchen, excitement at the thought of food bubbling up. The smell of your favourite take out wafted out of the container as you moved it onto a plate. Exhaustion was creeping up and taking hold of you as you shovelled food into your mouth. You welcomed the exhaustion and went to bed, leaving your dirty plate in the kitchen, something you wouldn’t normally do.

———————————————

When Jay returned to your shared apartment well into the evening you could tell that he was worn out. “Tough case?”

“No, actually. It was pretty straight forward, it’s just that Erin kept trying to call me. Since we were in the middle of a case Voight wouldn’t let her up but she kept calling me and Voight kept giving me these looks... I’m just glad that the case is shut, the day is over, and that I got to come home to you.” He gave you a peck on the lips, you could feel the soft smile that he had. “Dinner’s almost ready, would you mind setting the table?”

“Not at all.” You sat across from him at the small table pushed to the side of your kitchen, really looking at him. He looked tired, weighed down, but the tension gripping his body did seem to be lessening the more he was home, the more he ate, and the more he spoke. His eyes were light and happy, truthfully he looked a bit like a puppy. “I have time off tomorrow. Would you want to head up to the cabin?”

“Just for the day?”

“I know that it would be a lot of driving just for a day trip, but yeah.”

“Just to get out of the city for a bit?”

“Exactly.”

“You know it’s not that late, if we left now we could be there in a couple of hours, pick up some groceries on the way, we won’t need much. Wake up there, drive back in the evening.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“On a regular basis. And I love you too, so, so much.”

“How about you pack the necessities and I’ll clean up the kitchen?”

—————————————————-

You and Jay were on the road in forty minutes, just leaving Chicago as dusk started to dissolve into night. Jay’s secret country playlist was winding its was out of the speakers, the silence between the two of you was peaceful. The cooler bag filled with quick meals and leftovers Jay whipped together, removing the need for a grocery store. The coolness of the night encompassed you both, and the further you got from Chicago the heavier your eyelids got. A deep chuckle left your boyfriends throat. “Get some sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

——————————————

Jay Halstead was a dirty liar. He didn’t wake you up when he got to the cabin, instead he went in ahead to put the power and water on, put away the food, changed the sheets, dusted quickly, and then carried you in and put you in bed. And when you woke up and realized what he did, he even put on your pajamas for you, all he could do was kiss your nose and tell you how adorable you were when you pouted. Leftover stir fry was breakfast for the both of you. You were miffed that he did everything alone last night, and in the back of your mind you knew it was because he felt guilty about Erin showing up, but you couldn’t be mad at him. Not when he’d made your favourite food while you were packing last night. “Are you wanting to fish at all today or just swim?”

“Just swim around, we’ve missed the part of the morning that’s best for fishing and honestly I’m not really in the mood for it, unless you want to fish. I can take the boat over to the marina and pick up some bait if you want.”

“I’m okay for today too, Jay. But I think it would be nice to take the boat over to the marina and get ice cream before we leave.”

“Ooh, yes. I’ll go check to see how much fuel we have for the boat.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you out on the dock in a minute, I’m just gonna deal with the dishes.”

“That’s a funny expression, ‘deal with the dishes’ you sound like your going to ground them for throwing a baseball through a window or something.”

“Haha, I guess it does.”

——————————————

The bottom of the lake was brown, a result of the rocky bottom, but it didn’t matter that it didn’t look like the perfect insta post. It was fresh, and clean, and stunning, even with the mosquitos the size of a dog. And that’s how the morning was spent, swimming around the lake and laughing, enjoying the lighter air and the refreshing feeling from swimming around underwater amongst the algae and skittish fish. Carefree joy was a good look on Jay. The image of him throwing his head back as he tread water with the lake glistening around him, the sun enhancing the beauty of all the trees, plants, and cabin on the shore far back behind him as birds called out to each other was one that captivated you. “What?” His shoulders were sagging back to their regular position and Jay tilted his head slightly at you. You swam a few strokes closer and kissed him. As deeply as you could while both of you were treading water in the middle of a lake. Your legs kicked each other’s as you worked to stay afloat without your arms. You gripped onto each other, just reveling in the love you both shared. It didn’t last long unfortunately, because neither of you could tread water entangled in another persons limbs and without your arms. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“On a regular basis. And I love you too. So, so much.”

——————————

Lunch had been absolutely delicious. What could be better than your favourite food, with your favourite person, in your favourite vacation spot, after a breathtaking kiss in the middle of a lake? Absolutely nothing. That’s what. What made the day even better was Jay taking you both over to the marina in the boat to get locally made ice cream. “Halstead, it’s good to see you again.”

“You too, Martin.”

“And who’s the lady you’ve brought with you?”

“This is Y/N, my girlfriend. How have you been? I didn’t see you the last couple of times i was here.”

“I was retired in Florida. Didn’t like the heat though, so I came back. I’m living in the old O’Reilly property, they needed something bigger cause it’s only one bedroom, but it’s perfect for a retiree like me.”

“So you’re back to micromanaging Josie?”

“No, she’s run this place better than I ever did, it’s in the best possible hands. What are you guys here for? It’s too late in the day for bait.”

“Ice cream, we’re driving back to Chicago tonight cause we both have to work tomorrow.”

“Shame, how long have you guys been up here for?”

“Oh, just today, we drove up last night. Just needed a break from the city, you know?”

“I do. Well I don’t want to keep the two of you from ice cream, but you’ll have to give me a holler the next time you or Will are up here, we’ll have dinner or something.”

”Definitely. I'll see you around.”

”And you should come too, Y/N, I have plenty of stories about your boy from when he was wee.”

”Oh, well, I would not miss that for anything.”

”What? No, come on, you don't want to listen to embarrassing stories about me.”

”I really, really do.”

”They have mint chip.”

”One day, I will hear those stories. One day.”

”I like you already, Y/N.”

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

You were a little sad to leave the cabin, even though you'd only really been there for 24 hours. It had been a nice escape of reality, and Josie had been more teasing than her father. As you packed the rest of the bags in the car, there had only been three in total, really, you let out a bit of a sigh. The crickets we're playing a concert and the dreaded mosquito dogs had come out to hunt, but the aura was something you'd miss, even though you and Jay could come back.

The car ride back was filled with soft rock this time, and you felt yourself mouthing along to the songs.

---–--------------–

You were both a bit groggy the next day but it wasn't anything either of you couldn't handle. You arrived to your shift relaxed and we'll rested. ”Good morning Y/L/N. You look well rested, I take it the 48 treated you and Jay well?”

”Yeah, it did.” Your bubbly mood was it short though, when Dr. Bekker stormed into the prep room, clearly angry. “Well I should hope so, considering the rest of us had to pay for it.”

“What? There are other OR nurses, and I didn’t think either of you were scheduled for that time either.”

“No, it we did go to Molly’s. And do you know who else went to Molly’s?”

“Ava-“

“Erin Lindsay.”

“Oh no.”

“Damn right. She spent hours pulling on people’s arms and shouting about how you’re a whore-“

“Excuse me?!”

“Ava, really-“

“Okay!” She stopped her ranting for a moment. She leaned on the metal basin, completely ignore the suds on her arms and that she’d have to wash them again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t speak to you like that. It not your fault and you’re not a whore, no woman is. I just- it was the first time Hailey and I have been to Molly’s together since we started dating and your boyfriend’s cow of an ex had to ruin it.”

“I’m sorry, Ava. I- it’s not my place to handle her or anything. She’s not my ex.”

“No, but she is Jay’s, and the reason she was unhappy at Molly’s is because Jay apparently told her that they’re never getting back together.”

“Yeah, she was screaming at everyone, mostly intelligence that Jay had to still love her and all that. She got pretty hammered, Voight had to be called in to take her home.”

“What do you think- they just rolled the patient in, time to get in there and repair his left ventricle.”

———————————————

Your day was long and so was Jay’s so you decided to eat out, at a great Thai place Jay had introduced you to. “Erin wants me to move to New York to be with her, I don’t want to and I’m not going to, I just figured I should let you know.”

“Okay... I have to be honest Jay, I don’t know what to make of any of this.”

“Erin just got out of a bad relationship and I guess she remembered the good times we had together, and forgot that we had more bad times. It was both of our faults really. We both lied, and omitted, and kept things from each other. Our relationship wasn’t healthy, and it took me a long time and therapy to realize that. I don’t have anything against her and I wish her well, but I don’t feel the need to have her as a significant person in my life anymore, or be one in hers. I think that our story ended four years ago and that she’s just in a bad place right now, like I was when I dated Camila.”

“Okay. That doesn’t make her behaviour okay-“

“Oh absolutely not-“

“But I get it. I’ve been in that place too, so I get it.”

——————————————

Erin wasn’t as ready to let go of the subject as Jay, apparently. Voight remained quiet on the subject, something that infuriated you because he brought Erin back into everyone’s lives with no notice and no concern for their well being. Kim was still mad, so angry that she had banned Erin from meeting her newborn baby. “I deliberately never said a word about you to her all this time bec- ahhhhhhhhh.”

“Okay, Kim, I get it. You were a good friend and didn’t tell her anything about my life since she left because you knew I wouldn’t want her to know, it seriously, please stop focusing on an unnecessary apology to me when you should be focused on breathing until we get to the hospital.”

“Adam will meet us there?”

“Yes.”

“You promise you’re not ma-aaaaaaaaaaaaadddddd!!!”

“I promise, you never did anything wrong. Okay we’re here.”

“I can’t believe you’re having a baby with ruzek. He’s kindof annoying-“

“KEV! Let’s focus on getting Kim out of my truck and into the hospital so that she can have her baby in a sterilized environment, okay?”

“Right, let’s go girl.”

Kim hadn’t needed to worry about epidural as it turned out, the baby went into distress almost immediately after she passed through MED’s doors, causing her to go into distress, and resulting in her needing an emergency C-section. You weren’t part of the OR team for that surgery because of how close you were, it you knew everyone who was and knew she was in good hands. You had been put in charge of giving the anxious police officers updates.

“They just finished the surgery, it went amazing. Kim’s in recovery and they baby’s getting checked out as we speak. And, Adam didn’t faint. He did very well, actually cut the cord.” Grumbles filled the waiting room as money was passed to Hailey. “Come on guys, you really had that little faith in him?”

“No one will be able to see Kim or the baby until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest, but it might be longer. They both need time to recover.”

A few days later the waiting room was once again filled with police officers, this time some of their relatives were in attendance. You sat beside Jay, in regular clothes this time, waiting to be given the all clear to visit. You two were called over with Hailey and Ava, clutching a homemade blanket for the baby and a homemade meal for the parents. They were immensely grateful, Kim especially since she’d just been told that she could go back to non-hospital food. You were sitting on the recliner cradling baby Eliza, who was cooing in your arms when there were shouts and crashes in the hall. Everyone turned towards the door. The cops who hadn’t given birth less than a week ago, Hailey, Jay, and Adam, went into tactical mode, Kim stopped eating and took Eliza back, Ava grabbed the hospital phone to figure out what was going on, and you stood in between Kim and the door as the three cops made their way slowly into the hall. You’d locked the door after they left, peeking out of the small window. “I don’t see anything.”

“Erin.” You turned towards Kim, who just looked tired. “I talked to hospital security when she first got here, said that I didn’t want her to be able to see me. Or the baby. I just... I don’t trust her anymore. I spoke to her the day before she flew down here, I actually asked if she was ever coming back to visit. She said ‘no’. And then she just showed up at the gala... I feel pretty betrayed by her, honestly. She never initiates contact. Ever, it always falls on me. She’s spent years trying to get me to say something about Jay every once in a while, but I’ve always just said that she left him, you know? She left and didn’t say good bye or call or text so she doesn’t have any right to know anything about him now. And she’s been acting like a spoiled brat, you know she’s used the excuse of hanging out with me to try and get information about you and your relationship. I don’t feel like I’m her friend anymore. I feel like I’m her tool. And I just had a baby, a tiny human who relies on me, I don’t have time for toxic friends who make me feel like that. So I told her not to come and for security not to let her in.”

“Do you feel a bit better now that you’ve said all that out loud and to someone who isn’t Adam?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay, well, if you don’t want to see her, you don’t have to. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks.”

——————————————-

Erin had burned pretty much every bridge she had in Chicago in the two weeks she was there. She lost a lot of people’s respect after the incident in the hospital. When it became clear that some of her once closest friends were done with her, people felt it was okay to voice their grievances. After being shunned at 51, MED, 21, Molly’s, and her mother’s house, she showed up at your and jay’s apartment. A last ditch attempt at... Something.

“Please Jay, I love you.”

“No Erin, you don’t. You haven’t even seen me in four years. You’re just in a bad place right now. Go back to New York, okay? Your life is there now.”

She’d been in tears when she left, ugly crying, her face blotchy and make up running, as horrifying sounds ripped out of her throat. Jay just looked sad as he called Voight to pick her up.

———————————————

TWO WEEKS LATER

You were in stitches beside Jay, trying to breathe while laughing so hard. “Seriously?!”

“Hey, I was seven!”

“And I was five! Just listening to my idiot older brother!”

“We couldn’t believe it, the two Halstead boys running across the marina docks completely naked, and covered in blue paint!”

“Hey, I thought it was funny, and I ended up a doctor Jay, and I’ve stitched you up a few times, I’m not so much of an idiot, huh? Nat, c’mon, it’s not that funny.”

“Yes it is!”

“Y/N.”

“What? It is!” Another round of laughter peeled out from you, Natalie, Owen, and Martin’s daughter Josie as Martin continued to make gestures. “It took us a good minute to round them up. Me and Miriam, mind you, Pat just sat in the boat. Your mom was laughing so hard by the time we caught you both.”

“Please tell us more stories, Martin. That was REALLY funny.”

“Owen! You want to hear more embarrassing stories about me?”

“They’re funny!”

“Alright, well you heard the little man, Martin, more stories.” Will and Jay sighed, tried to relax, and resigned themselves to their fate. Their girlfriends and surrogate son/nephew were going to hear every single embarrassing story that Martin had. Which was a lot considering he was their father’s childhood best friend, had spent most of their summers around him, and he had a memory like a steel trap. “Don’t worry Jay, I’ll still love you after this, I promise.”

[imaginesbymk]

“Sweet as Cherry Pie.”

Peaky Blinders One Shot

Summary: Y/n is Alfie Solomons’ younger sister who comes to Camden town & Small Heath. Why? She’s their secret weapon: sassy, unpredictable and insults their enemies to filth. Or maybe she’s just bored and needed the first enemy she sees to throw a comment at. Either way, Alfie couldn’t ask for a better sister.

Pairing: ---

Tags: swearing, mentions of violence, weapons, drug & alcohol use, smoking + s4 spoilers

Word Count: 1755 words

Author’s Note: sksmsksks this is based off a dream i had one night. it isn’t the best piece i’ve written but i love a sassy reader. one shots are not open, this is just a one shot for my 800 follower special - [milestone masterlist]

“GOOD MORNING, Alfie.” Tommy said, walking down the distillery. Well, it wasn’t that much of a good morning for Tommy, really. In fact, even though he’s very productive and professional most times, this time the man wished he was back in bed where he could be exposed in his shirtless self, waking up to see his boy with that bright smile, sharing his eyes. 

Normally, he’d be drowning in family meetings back in Small Heath, but the atmosphere in Camden town begged to differ.

“Meh, not really,” Alfie Solomons glances up at the window- the dusty, stained window pane gave in the overcast weather. He turns back to Tommy. “Mate, I’m glad we’re right on schedule. I was starting to think you got shot in your own fucking office chair back home.”

Tommy stared at the Jewish-English man, knowing Alfie was from Camden Town, how outsiders would speak ill of such towns and vice versa.

Alfie shuffles over using his cane as support and hands Tommy the tickets. “Those are the tickets to the boxing match. And in that storage unit behind you is the gateway to the clouds.”

“Kind of you. But you know I have booze at home, stored neatly and safely. I can manage without your rum.” Tommy walked in, anyway.

“I’m not giving you my rum for free, Tommy. I’m not even selling it to you,” Tommy watched as Alfie made his way to the other room of his bakery, ready to check on the AM workers as they got to work right away.

Tommy read the front labels of the bottle he picked up from one of the barrels. This man has gone a long way in his business, he couldn’t deny that. Over a hundred barrels have been shipped to God knows how many speakeasies were in Europe and America, and when Alfie Solomons received his earnings, he holds it tightly and proudly, guarding it as he cherishes his success.

Taking a bottle wouldn’t hurt, it would please him knowing he is interested in buying his product. He could even smell it from the sealed caps. He could smell it from the barrels, residue on the floor, or even from one of the workers’ breaths. He could pop it open and take a quick sniff like playing in snow. Tommy dug in his coat pockets, pulling out a stack.

“Oh, so you are fucking loaded.” Tommy whipped around, his gun already pulled from his holster, gripped and pointed to the voice inches behind him. 

The person- the woman, didn’t react, not a small gasp at the sight of the barrel of the gun nearing her face. Boldly enough, she reached over and grabbed the stack of cash from Tommy’s hand and walked away, not even remotely thinking if the man she startled would pull the trigger with her back turned. 

“Thanks, Mr. Shelby. And Alfie thanks you!” the female voice calls out.

Con artist? Someone posing as a worker? An enemy? Tommy breathed heavily, swearing left and right in his mind that he could of at least stopped whoever that was from taking his money, or yelled at her the way he usually does to anyone who worked for him because he was the boss. He was loaded, but no one would just allow someone to take a loan like that without anything afterwards, unless they were a clerk in a bank robbery.

After feeling like he was glued to the floor in that tiny space, Tommy rushed out to find Alfie back in his office with his glasses on his face, jotting notes down on a piece of paper, noticing the stack of cash sitting near the cup holder.

“Who the fuck just walked inside that storage unit and grabbed the stash right out my fucking hands?”

Tommy’s outburst of his question didn’t send Alfie into a panic. “You mean my dearest sister y/n?” Alfie got up from his seat. “She gave me the cash so I didn’t have to do it, but she didn’t even bid me a goodbye afterwards. She just plopped it on my desk and went her way. It’s not like I died or anything. I’m not fucking invisible, Tommy. You can see me, right?” 

Tommy let out a long sigh, dreading that there’s not one but two migraine-stirring bastards named Solomons, it’s enough for one he already wishes to throw a beer bottle at some times, but now another one probably much worse than if described. “You have a sister, Alfie? You never said anything about having a sister.”

“Yeah. But don’t worry, she’s sweet as cherry pie,” Alfie nods. “I brought her here, but she’s pretty homesick, so I would bid her warm welcomes if I were you.”

“Why should I?” Tommy says, frowning. “She just took my fucking money.”

“Oh, for sure.” Alfie waves the loan in front of Tommy, reminding him that y/n is no thief. “And because she knows about the vendetta between you, the Peakys and the Italians. If they come to her, she’ll roar at them, literally.”

“WHO the fuck is this, now?” Arthur stared at the woman stood next to Tommy at the foot of the small dining room where old memories held of their past meetings and heartbreaks.

“This is Y/n Solomons. She’s our messenger.” Tommy wished he never had to say that. He wished she would stop touching his fucking stuff, too. “Y/n, put down my fucking frame.”

“Oh fuck,” Polly blew out smoke from her cigarette. “There’s two of them?”

“And what is wrong with my brother?” Y/n places the frame back down on the mantel. “He’s a successful businessman. He beat a man three fucking times his size to gravel after he called me fat.”

“Y/n Solomons is our messenger. She’s also helping with updates from Aberama Gold once we get Michael out of Birmingham for now, because Luca Changretta is still out there, and he’s fucking pissed.”

“You can very hot headed sometimes, Mr. Shelby.” Later the brief introduction of their newcomer in their recent meeting was long over, she stayed back even though she was dismissed to do her work. “It’s probably because you smoke so much cigarettes that you’re starting to look like an ashtray, or of that heavy out-dated coat you wear all the time just weighs you down that your back and shoulders must hurt like hell.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Tommy said, irritated by her presence, even her just standing there at the table.

“Nothing.” Y/n sighs and heads out the door. “You know where I’ll be!” she calls.

Sweet as cherry pie, my ass. Tommy grunts and lights a cigarette.

“WHAT’S the matter?” Luca Changretta asks. “I said we had a deal.”

“Ah, you just made a deal without negotiation, now did ya?” Y/n’s brother sat on the chair, staring up at the menacing mobster holding one of the rum bottles given as a gift. “Yeah, Tommy Shelby was right about you. You plan to kill us all.” He spoke in Yiddish, and he mocks a tsking sound.

Luca smirks down, even though he didn’t know what he said, at least they both were aware of one thing; Tommy knows what kind of man I am.

“Mr. Changretta, may I speak freely?” y/n chimes in.

The Italian shrugs. “Mr. Solomons, I checked my calendar earlier and I did not read anything about today being Take Your Kid to Work Day,” and he laughs, his cousin as his henchman behind laughing along with him.

“Mate, I’d choose my next words very carefully if I were you,” Alfie says, stifling a smile. “This is my baby sister you’re talking down to, and she won’t tolerate one bit of it.”

“And I should be afraid?”

“Perhaps less afraid, more self-conscious, Mr. Changretta,” y/n replies. “Just a few minutes ago I was sensing the stench of failure, but then I saw you and your men walk in.”

Luca chuckles sarcastically. “Ouch.”

“And it’s not like we’re having a showdown right here, you didn’t need to bring your men with you unless you’re doubling their pay for just standing silently. I mean, they’re as important as Tommy Shelby’s evening sous chef.”

“Who?” Alfie had to ask.

Y/n smirks. “Exactly. Anyways, I just need to tell you that my brother’s business isn’t for sale. Alfie has worked hard and I’m proud to be his sister, supporting him. I’ll drink his rum like it’s mother’s milk if I had to. So, let my brother handle your men at the match, and you’ll take care of the two hundred barrels to be shipped to New York. Simple.”

“What do you know about business, Miss Solomons?”

“What do you know about combat, Luca? If you didn’t lack the experience, Tommy Shelby’s blood would spill fresh on your hands as we speak. How are you a soldier for the mafia if you hadn’t accomplish the vendetta yet?”

“Well-”

“Actually, don’t answer that. I’ll fall asleep.” Y/n took a step forward, lowering her smile up as his height overpowered hers. “My brother isn’t asking for much. He’s a good friend of Tommy Shelby, yet he’s helping you. You should be kissing his feet, Mr. Changretta, not abusing his generosity.”

Luca chewed the matchstick in his mouth. “Is that so?” he looks back at his men. “Porca puttana.”

“Vaffanculo, right back at you, mate. You just earned yourself another tonne to your bill. Bring tissues for both your lawyer and accountant.” Y/n turns around and grins at her older brother, who smiled warmly at her the entire time, feeling as though he was proud. If the Peaky Blinders were here, they’d share the same reaction as Luca. 

“So you both know Italian?” Luca asked as he sighs in exhaustion.

Alfie nods at Luca, who was glaring down at him for an answer. You learn from your older sibling, you become as tough as bullets and the big help as the messenger, sending a telephone call or a letter mailed to Small Heath, saying Luca Changretta is six feet tall, but shrunk four feet down when y/n opened her mouth. 

“Take it or leave it, Signore.” The Italians didn’t even need to ask where this woman got her attitude from. If you’re a Solomon, there’s perks. Y/n smiles to herself, Tommy is gonna hate and love me.

“I warned you about my baby sister, mate.” Alfie says. “Sweet as cherry pie... but with broken glass once you bite into your first slice.”

—

tag list: @ladyxblake @lotsoffandomimagines @amirahiddleston @thethyri @woahitslucyylu @myriadimagines @fangirlsarah16 @your-pixels-are-showing @lucillethings @sirkekselord @kaetastic

[anika-ann]

Attached: Words Lost in Translation Pt.1

Type: (mini)-series,  Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 4200

Summary: There’s a new guy in your history class – a foreign student from Milan, Italy. Handsome, nice enough, pretty smart, actually.

But dammit, you should have known that a guy complimenting the way you say his name will be trouble – Bucky certainly thinks so from the start… and he’s not wrong. Oh boy.

A/N: Attached: Words Lost in Translation is a 3-part addition to the Attached series.

A/N: Many thanks to my lord and saviour @chase-your-dreams-away​ for her help with Italian bits which you’ll find in the fic :-* Seriously, big shout-out for her, she was awesome! Vocabulary at the end if you’re interested.

And many thanks to @wxstedhexrt​ for sending me the link and putting the plot bunny into my head in the first place :-* 

Warnings: smug insistent jerk, harassment(?), swearing, one remark about LBGT+ that could feel insensitive

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

“Uhm… hi. Can I sit here? And uh—this is kinda ridiculous, but could I borrow a pen?”

A very much handsome young man was standing by your seat in the second row, week two of your first semester of master’s at uni, deep brown eyes, naturally tanned skin, relatively tall, his smile a fraction shy but honest.

What else could you have done that what you did?

Even if he wasn’t a relatively cute guy – mind you, you were dating Steve, very happily needless to say – you had no reason to be a bitch to a guy with slight accent you weren’t sure where to place, to a guy who was apparently a tiny bit lost on his first day at Bucky’s class.

“Yeah, sure. Seat all yours,” you smiled encouragingly, sliding him an extra pen on surface of the desk.

His smile widened brilliantly, exposing a set of perfectly narrow and white teeth. A twinkle appeared in his eye and you caught your heart skipping a beat.

Oh. Ah-oh.

“Thank you so much. Something tells me that the prof wouldn’t appreciate me missing the first class of his and not taking notes on the second,” your mystery student grimaced and you chuckled, unable to help yourself.

First of all, yeah, kinda on point.

Second of all, not on point at all, because the said prof was Professor James Barnes. Bucky had a relatively benevolent policy when it came to his classes – yes, he appreciated when his students were paying attention, interacting even, but as long as you weren’t an ass or weren’t making noise (or both), you were fine.

You said so to your new classmate and he nodded in acknowledgement.

“Good to know… but you know what would be even better?” he asked, cocking his head to side curiously – or teasingly, it was hard to tell.

“Oh, what? I guess you need the syllabus too, right? I can-“

A low chuckle erupted from his throat, his eyes glimmering with amusement as his gaze gave you a not-exactly-subtle once-over you weren’t sure how you felt about.

Except you knew exactly how you felt about it, you just knew you shouldn’t feel that way.

“That would probably come in handy too, but I’d rather know the name of my lovely saviour with a pretty smile.”

You found yourself lowering your gaze, heat rising to your cheeks.

Here was a thing – this was most flirting you got in like a year. You adored Steve, you truly did, from the bottom of your heart, he was a dream come true… however, the fact that you two were dating was clear to everyone.

And by everyone, you really meant everyone; considering the scene at your bachelor graduation and the mess around, it appeared that the whole damn city accepted the fact that you were Steve’s and thus no one even considered stepping on his toes.

Which was alright, absolutely, but… girl’s got needs, her ego craves a boost from time to time, even if it’s an appreciative glance from a stranger. Just a teeny-tiny bit of flirting.

No one ever flirted with you anymore.

It was why it was way too easy to fall into the sweet trap as you introduced yourself, lifting you gaze only to see your companion wearing a lop-sided smile. He most definitely liked what he saw.

“Sweet name for a sweet girl. I’m Daniel. I’m here for two semesters. And before you ask, it’s Milano, Italy,” he added quickly with a flash of his teeth again, holding out his hand – and upon having it accepted, he most certainly held it too long and swept his thumb over the back of your hand.

Which was the point when your head started yelling at you to stop this in an instant and draw a line. Yes, it felt amazing to be complimented to, but you had a boyfriend – a fucking dreamy one, no less – and you sure as hell didn’t want to give Daniel (how was his name pronounced again?) the wrong impression.

You retreated your hand with your smile turning tight-lipped, a cold pang of guilt stabbing you in your gut. Served you right.

“Nice to meet you, Daniel,” you said politely, and his expression shifted into one just a fraction patronizing.

“Da-ni­-el. Kinda soft ‘i’. Daniel. You’ll get a hang of it, I’m sure. Once more, please?”

Well, since he said please. “Da-ni-el,” you repeated more from a common curtesy, because honestly, the least you could do was to try to pronounce a name right for a handsome classmate.

Shush it, it doesn’t matter if he’s handsome or not!

Daniel smiled widely, turning his palms up and gesturing towards you. “Perfetto. Amazing. You’re a natural.”

Before you could say thanks, Bucky entered the class and you felt the stab in your insides intensify as his eyes found you unmistakably, as if he had witnessed our interaction with the Italian and was telling you he’d rat you out to Steve if you didn’t stop right now.

Ridiculous – there was nothing to talk about. You were just being nice to the friendly stranger who happened to be in your class and whom you’d be meeting for at least a semester. That was all.

Except you still felt your heart pounding furiously, equally because of the feeling of getting caught doing something wrong and because of enjoying the attention. Fuck.

Okay, fine. You’d tell Steve about this guy on your own as a precaution. It would at least remind you to keep yourself in check, because honestly, you had no desire to get tangled up in some mess. You had no desire to taint the beautiful thing you had with Steve with anything at all, less so for a fling.

Content with yourself, you forced yourself to listen to Bucky’s lecture, taking notes like you were supposed to, determined to ignore Daniel’s presence.

Except Daniel interrupted him twice with questions and remarks about accuracy, drawing attention of the whole class to him and you felt hot in your face for a whole different reason than before – simply hating that someone sitting next to you was, frankly, quickly getting annoying.

And God, you had no idea how much.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Daniel Gallo was a relatively nice guy –social perhaps a little too much, but cute and open, easy to be friends with.

However, he had one fatal flaw, one you discovered very early on; he was the smuggest asshole you had ever met.

Perhaps it was his need to correct Bucky all the time – mostly failing, because Bucky knew his shit, he was just sparing you the tinniest details, leaving them for you to find in text books.

Maybe it was the fact that Daniel hadn’t given you the pen back, not even asking if he could keep it for the day, which you’d understand despite being protective of your pens; except he carried it around for two weeks, using it in front of you, returning it only upon your curious and slightly sarcastic comment about it.

Most definitely though, it was the fact that he was unbearably insistent on flirting with you – shamelessly – even after you grew so uncomfortable that you blatantly told him you had a boyfriend. He smirked, but backed off for the day, only to continue his advances the next week.

And then Jill, a girl from your year and a sort-of-friend, actually told you that he mentioned you in front of her, saying that you were two growing rather close, if she knew what he meant, and she admitted that she snorted into her latté when hearing it.

“What? What is it?” he had asked.

“I sincerely doubt that,” she claimed she had said, causing him to frown.

“Why? She gay? I don’t think so, I can tell this kind of stuff.”

“No. She’s taken. Very happily, I might add. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“Nah. We’ll see about that,” he had replied supposedly and learning that felt like a punch to your stomach, causing you to see red.

You showed him ignorance incarnate the next week, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

And then even Bucky noticed and kept casting dirty glares at you both as if you had done the worst crime.

To be honest, after that you did feel dirty; but you didn’t want to make a fuss.

In fact, you hadn’t even told Steve about Daniel besides informing him about the existence of a foreign student in your class.

Partly, shame was to blamed, because you kept wondering if you had done enough; perhaps you should have been more radical, sterner with Daniel to make him stop.

The other part of the reason was that Steve was under tons of pressure because of his academic duties; all professors had to publish an article in a prestige journals dedicated to their area of expertise at least once in two years – university policy – and working on that while teaching several classes was simply taking its toll on him. You really didn’t want to add to his stress.

It wasn’t even a big deal – Daniel was overly social and he probably said shit like the stuff you learned from Jill about other girls too. What was the golden rule? When there’s nothing broken, don’t fix it.

There was nothing. No problem at all.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Except there was.

That morning, you were zoned out, because Steve snapped at you for not doing the dishes and didn’t bother to apologize till you left the apartment in a foul mood. Then he went to shower you with texts full of apologies, gradually growing into pure cutesy (involving a picture of his puppy eyes) and gifs and stuff and you ended up spending the majority of Bucky’s lecture on your phone.

By Bucky’s policy, that was perfectly okay, because he couldn’t care less if you were smiling like a loon into your phone – hell, if he noticed, he was probably glad, knowing shit had rained down and was now being fixed.

At the end of the class, Daniel graciously offered you his neat notes – and really, they looked amazing –, surprising you rather pleasantly.

“Oh… that’s… that’s very kind of you,” you stuttered, almost rendered speechless. Perhaps you truly were just making a big deal of things, seeing something that wasn’t-

“Anything for my principessa.“

The cloud that had been following you since you left the apartment made its comeback in a second, so fast that you actually felt your stomach drop to your feet.

Oh no, you were not imagining things – after all, Daniel even had a term of fucking endearment for you. And you might not be speaking Italian, but you understood that just fine.

“Perhaps one day she’ll repay me with a dinner date,” he continued with a supposedly charming smile, one you found disgusting at the moment.

You opened your mouth and swiftly closed it when no sound came out, scoffing at your naivety. Of course he wouldn’t give them for free, jackass. You shook your head with a wry smile and packed your untouched pencil case and papers, rising to your feet without another word.

A hand on your wrist stopped you from spinning on your heel and walking away.

“Aspetta, aspetta-” an all-to-familiar voice now whispered as you grinded your teeth and glared at the point of contact, skin on skin. He squeezed your wrist almost gently before letting go. “Wait. Here. Just… take a picture, okay? Where would we be if weren’t nice from time to time…”

You really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction… but you could really use his notes too.

Dammit shit.

“Thank you,” you uttered, obediently taking a photo of the three pages of ridiculously perfect notes. Then, you met his gaze, face torn between stern and grateful. “Just… a reminder: I have a boyfriend.”

Slow smile spread on his lips and in that moment, you wanted to punch him in those perfect teeth of his. “Doesn’t stand in the way of admiring your beauty, does it, la mia ragazza…”

You had no clue what he said, but the la mia hinted you that he called you something his and that sent a surge of white-hot anger through your veins, mixing with humiliation. Your hand actually curled up in a fist, twitching – but instead of giving your piling anger an outlet, you took a deep breath, huffed and stalked away without a word of goodbye.

“See you next week!” Daniel called after you and you gripped the strap of your backpack tighter, squeezing your eyes shut.

That night, you got next to zero sleep, watching Steve’s passed-out form with tears in your eyes.

It was ridiculous, it was nothing and you were doing nothing wrong-- but you couldn’t make yourself to cuddle to Steve’s side despite desperately needing his wordless affirmation that everything was alright.

Just a simple embrace of his was like a promise of a brighter future. With him.

Chuckling wryly into your palm, you wiped at your tears and snuggled to Steve, causing him to stir and hum, his arm circling around you on instinct, a barely-there sloppy kiss to your hair chasing more tears into your eyes along with a watery smile gracing your lips.

Yeah. Everything was going to be fine.

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Nothing was fine.

Daniel was getting handsy if you could call it that. His thigh brushed yours multiple times the next class as he was sitting uncomfortably close and no amount of subtle pushing away (of you and your chair) was helping, so no, there could have been nothing coincidental about that.

You dug your nails into your palm and bit your cheek, but survived the lesson somehow.

Bucky called for you at the end of the class, saving you further interaction with that Italian Satan, allowing you to breathe freely until he addressed the very problem your head was occupied with.

Bucky didn’t like Daniel’s attitude to begin with – which wasn’t surprising, seeing as he was being a prick – but he liked the fact Daniel seemed to be awfully close to you even less if his tone was anything to go by and his eyes screamed accusations and you fucking hated yourself, feeling the tell-tale of incoming tears burning in your eyes.

“I can talk to him, you know. Tell him to back off,” he offered then though, the grey with blue threads of his irises warming when he noticed your state.

The pressure in your gut eased upon learning Steve’s best friend didn’t only blame you and apparently wanted to help rather than presenting you with ‘you made your bed you lie in it’ attitude.

You even charmed a small smile for him, determined to do justice to your word: “Thank you… it’s fine. I’ll deal with him. I can handle one guy who doesn’t take no for an answer.”

And sure you could.

Daniel hugged you goodbye the next class, saying he was planning a get-away with his new friends for a weekend and it might be dangerous – fucking absurd.

With your heart in your throat, you quickly patted his back and twisted from his arms, feeling dirty.

“No kiss for good luck?” he teased, that annoying smug smile on his face and you had to remind yourself that punching him was a terrible idea seeing as you were already walking a fine line dating a professor – who happened to be the best friend of one of your professors.

You didn’t need any problems – and for some reason, you were certain Daniel would make a big fucking deal of it. So no punching it was.

Your resolve crumbled to nothing when a sudden kiss landed on your cheek, the sensation cold like a kiss of the death itself.

Before you could as much as catch your breath which got knocked out of your lungs and not in the good way, your blood pressure skyrocketing along with your pulse to a point where your head began spinning… he was gone.

You gulped, eyes fluttering shut as the world seemed to sway from its place and you nearly jumped out of your skin when a hand grasped your arm.

“Daniel, go fuck yourself-“ you snapped and glared at him- only to meet Bucky’s angry and very much concerned gaze.

“Too bad you didn’t say that about thirty seconds ago. You alright?” the brunet asked you, grip firm yet gentle as he steadied your shaky stance.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, a little strangled noise. “And I am gonna tell him exactly this the next time I see him.”

“Not good enough for me. You’re not stupid, I know you’re not. But I’m not either,” he remarked, expression gravel. His tone hardened, unlike his eyes that studied you thoroughly, examining your face as if searching for something. “You think I didn’t notice the change of your wardrobe?”

An icy-cold shiver ran an up your spine, causing all your muscles to stiffen.

Fuck. He noticed.

You supposed it wasn’t too hard to see and it was only natural that he kept an eye on you as on his best friend’s girlfriend. Yes, your Tuesday’s outfits suddenly somehow lacked skirts and anything with a deeper neckline than a turtle-neck, simply in hopes to turn Daniel off or at least not to pluck up his interest further; an action that had taken zero effect.

But being called out like this? That stung. It hurt your pride and it hurt by its very nature, because it reminded you how pathetic you were, unable to get rid of a jerk who didn’t take no for an answer – in a public space, with witnesses for god’s sake. It made you feel weak and incompetent.

So you looked Professor Barnes dead in the eye, your lips a thin line, your voice cold as you spoke the only words that made sense at that time:

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

So what if you stuttered? So what if his brows furrowed with what was a damn patronizing worry? You didn’t care as you gathered your stuff without another word exchanged.

You made a mental note to wear your favourite outfit the next week, forgoing pants and turtle-necks, because you could fucking take care of yourself.

Penny encouraged you, clearly having faith in you too, but she also gently reminded you that you could report him.

As if. Brining more attention to your person was the last thing you needed.

You could do this on your own, thank you very much.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

For all your bravado, you asked a girl you barely knew by name if you could sit next to her and nearly cried when she said yes and another girl seated herself to your other side within two minutes. You even smiled for yourself contentedly, seeing a dawn of a new age.

And then Daniel fucking Gallo walked in and charmed his way to the seat next to you anyway, somehow managing to scare off your original saviour as well.

Well, too bad for him; you had your confidence back along with your outfit that suited you much better and you were going to tell that jerk to fuck off, just like you promised to Bucky and yourself.

“You thought I wasn’t coming today, la mia bella ragazza? I couldn’t bear not seeing you…” he started off again and you eyed him head to toe, causing a smile spread on his face. You had found that smile cute once, the kind of smile you would let a person get away with murder for.

Now it was making you want to commit murder.

“I was hoping actually.”

“Oh, sassy today, are we? What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? He had the audacity to-

You can’t punch him, you can’t punch him, think of the bureaucracy and your future…

What about my satisfaction?

Zip it!

You took a deep breath and watched that asshole take a seat next to you, automatically shuffling his chair closer.

“Daniel, look-“

“Zitta, zitta…” he interrupted you softly, but the manner he spoke with only pissed you off further. Fuck Italian.

“I don’t know what that means and frankly, I don’t care. I’m taken. I said so, several times. So back off,” you hissed, watching your volume despite the prof not being in yet – you didn’t need a scene. You were disgustingly certain Daniel had brought enough attention to you already – in fact, you were shocked Steve hadn’t learned about this yahoo yet with how quickly gossip spread on this university.

And that Bucky hadn’t told him-- God, you hoped Bucky wasn’t saving it for today’s boys night-

To your utter shock and annoyance, Daniel didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, smiling widely as if amused at your antics. “Am I putting doubts in that bella testolina of yours?”

Your blood boiled at such implication… and maybe there was a thin flow of steam coming from your ears too? Because you couldn’t fucking believe this guy, implying such thing-

--okay, you weren’t sure what exactly he said, honestly, but you understood just enough. No doubts. You were perfectly sure he was an asshole you wanted to have nothing to do with.

“No! No way! Jesus- okay. Let’s be clear. Was... this,” you gestured between the two of you in self-explanatory manner, “flattering at first? Yes. But seriously, now you’re just making me uncomfortable.”

As if appealing to his conscience would work…

“Then give in. Just one little dinner,” he insisted, showing a small space between his thumb and forefinger, grinning as if he hadn’t been listening to you at all. “What could it hurt? Who knows, maybe I’ll show you a real good time and you’ll forget all about some boring boyfriend of yours… who I’m not sure he exists actually-“

You inhaled sharply, wheezing in fact, heat of righteous anger flooding your whole body. That fucker-!

“Oh for fuck’s sake-“

You can’t punch him. You. Can. Not. Punch. Him.

You repeated those words to yourself like a magical mantra that was losing its effect, because there was nothing you wanted more. Maybe except for Steve punching him, that would be quite a show… but it was not an option.

For one, Steve, thank heavens, still didn’t know about Daniel’s unwanted advances and for two, chances were that he would show a little less restraint and you wouldn’t blame him one bit. But it would bring a whole new set of trouble, so you had to deal with this alien of a man on your own.

And right now, staring into that stupidly smug face of his, you only saw one possible solution.

“Okay, fine.”

You almost slapped your hand over your mouth as soon as the words left your lips, numbing horror overwhelming your body.

What the fuck did you just do?!

“Yes!” Daniel whisper-yelled, pumping his fist and you noticed that the class was gradually falling silent, probably with Bucky’s approach – but there was still enough chatter going on for you to save the situation somehow.

“-but you have to earn it,” you added in an equally hushed tone.

He cocked his eyebrow, as if smelling your fear that arrived instantly after the rash decision he provoked from you. “I won’t back out from a challenge, bellezza.”

Yeah, I friggin’ bet.

Your mind was racing hundred miles an hour, choosing to ignore the whatever-it-meant petname in favour of the crisis at hand.

“How about… you ask the professor a question-“ Oh Bucky was going to have your head on a stick for that, but hey, he had offered to help you- “-and if he answers wrong, I’ll go to one dinner with you, tonight.”

…that would be alright, right? Just to get rid of him. One dinner so he would get the clue at last. You’d be a hateful bitch, possibly embarrassing him, doing just about anything for him to finally stop making your life a living hell.

Yeah, looking back at the product of your frantic brain, it had been an excellent thinking actually. Go impulsive me!

Hell, tonight was perfect for it, with Steve having a night off with Bucky and you originally planning on studying with Penny. You would tell Steve after, explaining everything—or maybe before? Bucky was your witness that you weren’t exactly an enthusiastic participant in this, surely he would help you explain and would be able to distract Steve-

But really, that was all theoretical, because Daniel would have to catch Bucky off guard first, which was very unlikely. Bucky knew his subject through and through and Daniel’s chances were extremely low anyway.

“Easy-peasy,” Daniel grinned confidently, making you internally roll your eyes at his overconfident ass.

Or perhaps you had let your annoyance show for real? You couldn’t tell anymore, the adrenaline rush in your veins making certain things too sharp and other dull. For instance, you registered Daniel’s eyes flickering towards the teacher’s stand, his already wide smile growing enough to nearly tear his mouth.

“Even easier when we have a substitute.”

“What,” you blurted out, head snapping to the professor at the front.

A flash of blond hair and a shade darker beard. Broad shoulders. Blue eyes of which you simply knew they had a glint of green in them.

Your heart positively stopped in your chest, your lips parting in mute horror.

“Oh shit.”

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Vocabulary: Perfetto - perfect Principessa – princess Aspetta – wait La mia (bella) ragazza – my (pretty) girl Zitta – shh Bella testolina – pretty head

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Part 2

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Eh, I swear the first idea was giving off less of a harassment vibe. But it gets better, I promise ;)

I apologize to Italians if you find this offensive, but it was in fact not my intention at all for Daniel to be a representation of a whole nation. I figured there are insistent jerks all over the globe. (And I happened to have an Italian real-life template, not gonna lie.)

[unmaskedagain]

Rather be Me (than with You)

Hey everyone. This is a kind of angsty ONE-SHOT; not the usual humor and fun I usual go for. I decided to do something a bit different. I experimented with the idea of a story where Lila doesn’t get exposed. Marinette just moves on. Decides she deserves better.  This ISN’T a QUEEN MARI but Marinette does realize she’s a queen. 

This is Anti-Class but not Lila bashing. I didn’t not to got the normal LILA BASHING everyone usually does. Don’t get me wrong, Lila Bashing is my favorite tag in this fandom. But I wanted to do something different. Tell me what you think and if you like it.

It had been a long time since Marinette had cared about their snickering; cared that sometimes she ate alone. Marinette hadn’t given a rat’s ass about what anyone in her damn class thought. She had been done for a long time.

A year had passed since Lila created the hurricane that pretty much turned Marinette’s life upside. A year since Alya had been her best friend, since Adrien was her crush. Since Ladybug’s partner was Chat Noir, a year since she was anyone’s everyday Ladybug.

These days the other students in class ignored her, and she was fine with it. The minute Marinette stepped back and decide to say, “Fuck Them.” Lila had left her alone. The Italian girl still side-eyed her every now and then but was content to let Marinette be. One thing Lila did right was that she saw Marinette exactly as she should be seen; an unbeatable threat, and one hell of pain in the neck if she tried hard enough. For a while, Lila was sure the Marinette would expose her, that every lie she spun would come undone.

But then one day, just a few months after Lila had returned, Marinette came to school with a big grin on her face. Lila said one tall tales, and the other girl didn’t even blink. Lila still remembered that their eyes met and saw: nothing. No longer did righteous fury reside there. No hurt expression. Or tears. Just apathy, sheer indifference to everyone in class.

Lila didn’t smile that day. In fact, she found it hard to really smile for the rest of the week. Because though technically she had won, it didn’t feel like a victory. It was like the game the two girls played had resulted in a stalemate and Marinette decided the battle was over. Marinette lost all her friends. Lila had no choice but to keep up the lies, particularly, after her mother announced they wouldn’t be moving like they usually would after a few months. It took a lot of work. Lila could admit that if she had know Paris was permanent, she’d have been a little more honest.

So, in the end, neither girl won but neither girl lost.

Nevertheless, Lila was smart. She knew when to back off. And so she did. She learned quickly that if she kept Marinette’s name out of her mouth, she was golden. Lila also learned that Marinette wasn’t made at Lila. It was everyone else the Asian girl had a problem with.

Everyone else in class who quickly realized just what life was like without their everyday ladybug.

Gone was the random sweets from her parents’ bakery. Gone was the well planned birthday parties and class trips. Gone was the comforting shoulder. Gone was the friend who they could call no matter time of day or night if they needed someone to talk to. Gone was their biggest supporter. Gone was the always friendly face that promised to brighten the darkest day.

           The kids learned quickly, that if they were in trouble, they were on their own. Apart from Akuma attacks, that Ladybug still showed up for. Though Ladybug had taken to ignoring the students, particularly Alya. Even going as far as to say to the teen reporter, in front of other journalists, that she doesn’t talk to tabloids; too many rumors and lies.

           This had slowly but surly caused the downfall of the Ladyblog. Alya could no longer get the best scoop; no that went to Aurore who created an entire website with tips and advice and videos about and straight from Ladybug. The website fully endorsed by the hero. Alya had quickly decided that she just needed to talk to Ladybug to clear up whatever was caught the strife. It was then that Alya remembered that Marinette had gotten her that first interview, the interview that had launched the Ladyblog’s success. Marinette who she was no longer friends with.

           Marinette who had it clear that she didn’t care. She didn’t are that Alya’s beloved blog had spiraled into nothing. That Nino’s music career seemed to be at an all-time standstill. That Marc and Nathaniel’s comic and partnership had gone down in flames. (Mostly because Nathaniel had taken too much of Lila’s advice and changed too much of the comic to be recognizable.) Or that Ivan and Mylene had broken up. Juleka had gone back to never showing up in pictures. Rose was in tears that Prince Ali no longer wished to speak to her. Kitty Section had broken up. Chloe was a bigger bully than ever, though she too was smart enough to stay clear of Marinette. The list went on and on, getting worse and worse.

           Even the teachers realized just how much of a control presence that Marinette had. And just how lost their classrooms were without her.

           But still, Marinette didn’t care.

Marinette had been screwed over. Once. Twice. A dozen times. Her best friend, her sworn bestie, hadn’t been the loyal friend she promised she was; acted nice when was so not nice. Chat Noir, Adrien, had left her to fight alone so many times that Master Fu took back his Miraculous. Screwed over by her best friend. Twice. And then by all the other kids.

Still, no one could understand how the sweetest girl could go full Ice Queen.

They had been smart enough to get Luka and Kagami to ask Marinette at the school’s end of the year party. Adrien got Kagami to ask as Marinette had taken to ignoring him for a long time by then Juleka got Luka to promise to find out. Kagami and Luka had become her closest friends. And the fact that her classmates would use them to get information on her, just reminded Marinette just how done she was.

She was so done.

So after the two had asked. Instead of answering, Marinette texted Colton, her friend, and DJ of the party. Marinette needed to make something clear.

When the song, ended Marinette got on stage.

“Hey,” She said into the mic. Her hair was only a bit longer but the blue had been dyed out of it. Her skinny jeans were black and ripped and she had on a red halter top was lacy and elegant. “Someone of you might not know me. But I’ve done enough for this school and a lot the students, to know majority of you do.” Her tone was dry and her stare blank. “Over last year, I took a step back you could say from, well, bullshit.” There were laughs. Most of the students who knew of Marinette and had been affected by her kindness had reached out almost immediately when they realized something was wrong, something had changed.

           Marinette looked at the students, “I got screwed over by too many times to count.” She sighed. “Turns out, a lot there’s a lot of assholes in my class.” She said bluntly. “So how do I deal with it all. In fact, how do you deal with all the drama and bullies and liars and two-faced bitches in your life? I got some advice for you. Pay close attention because it worked great for me.” The music started and Marinette started to sing.

“Here's my secret strategy

It always works because

The world doesn't end

It just feels like it does”

           Marinette wasn’t the best singer but she was decent. The song wasn’t about high notes or theatrics. It was sung with grace and humor. A strong daria morgendorffer vibe.

So raise your right finger      Marinette raised her right hand flicked off the entire school and looked right at her classmates. There faces turned red and their eyes were wide.

And solemnly swear

"Whatever they say about me

I don't care!"

           The first few months had been hard. And full of mean looks were way and nasty remarks. Until they realized they needed her. They needed her charm. Her can-do attitude. Her to come back as class president. Her ideas. The free handmade clothes she designed.

I won't twist in knots to join your game

           Rose, surprising, had been the first to try to tempt her back. The other having enlisted the second sweetest girl in class to talk to Marinette. Rose had told Marinette that if she just admitted she was wrong Lila and apologize, they’d take her back. Marinette had told her to fuck off.

I will say, "you make me mad."

And if you treat me bad

I'll say "you're bad"

And if I eat alone from this moment on

That's just what I'll do

'Cause I'd rather be me, I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me than be with you

           Marinette had eaten alone for weeks until she made she found real friends in other classes, both upper and lower grades. That was when Marinette found out that she was well-liked by the majority of the school. And the majority of the school didn’t buy Lila’s lies.

We're supposed to all be ladies

And be nurturing and care

Is that really fair?

Boys get to fight, we have to share

           Marinette found new friends, made new plans, her schedule filled up again, and she was happy. That was when the rumors started. Alya and Alix, leading the charge, had taken upon themselves to tell Marinette new friends what a bully she was and the rest of the school as well. They got upset when no one believed them.

           They got even more upset when they realized Marinette didn’t care. At all. However, when Alix had taken it too far, he had decided to get physical and trip Marinette in the lunchroom….

Here's the way that turns out

We always understand

How to slap someone down

With our underhand

           Marinette got up, pulled her arm back, and knocked Alix’s lights out. “Don’t try that shit again,” Marinette had warned her ex-friends. “I have no problem kicking each and everyone one of your asses.”

She got a week’s detention but she smiled all the way through.

So here's my right finger Marinette flicked off the school again; waved it around so everyone could see it.

To how girls should behave

'Cause sometimes what's meant to break you

Makes you brave

So I will not act all innocent

I won't fake apologize

           From then on, it was everyone understood that a new Marinette walked the halls. One that didn’t care about being nice. How ladies should behave. She refused to apologize after a fight. And she never backed down from an agreement.

           Turns out losing all her friends didn’t break her. It made her braver. In a way Ladybug never managed to before then.

Let's just fight and then make up

Not tell these lies

Let's call our damage even

Clean the slate till it's like new

           Marinette never gave in; even when the ice out happened. All the kids in her class ignored her, they didn’t say a single word to her. Refused to pair with her. Didn’t even acknowledge her existence.

It's a new life for me

Where I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me

Than be with you

The once bluenette just laughed at their childish antics. She didn’t bat an eye as they wanted her too. She didn’t understand why they couldn’t fight like normal people. Or the very at least call the war done, the damage even on both sides, and then move on with clean slates.

I'll say, "NO!"

NO!

I'll say, "knock it off,

with your notes and your rules and your games."

           Marinette had just gone: NO. No. She wasn’t going to play their little games. Do anything to make it even remotely look like she card. It was over. She was done. It was all just a waiting game.

           Waiting for them to grow up and realize, it was game over. There was no magical way their friendship would ever be restored. They should move, let go. Find something better. Accept the loss and learned to live with it.

           Like she’d done with Lila. Marinette hadn’t been happy with the results of their chess game but she could live with it. Move on. Got a new life.

And those sycophants who follow you, Marinette turned her attention to the pretty Italian girl. If Lila ever came after her again… Or when her kingdom of lies fell, and there was no doubt it would. Marinette would be there to watch it burn.

I'll remember all their names, She sang to Lila who nodded having understood. Even she knew her time was running out. Though Lila wouldn’t just hand over her power willingly. No, Lila knew it would have to dragged away from her bloody hands before she let it go. Lila would fight. It was just the way she was.

           The one thing Marinette liked about the girl.

           Alya was getting desperately. Eventually, she’ll realize the answer to all her problems lay in the comments on her blog. All questioning why she was promoting such an obvious liar. And when she did… There would be hell to pay.

And when they drag you down

Like they inevitably do

I will not laugh along with them and

approve their palace coup, 'cause that's not me. She promised her once the greatest enemy. (Hawkmoth’s was Ladybug’s.) That caused Lila to smile.

           Because when the faux-faced kids turned their ire onto Lila. When they dragged her through the same torment they put Marinette though. At least the wannabe Volpina wouldn’t have to worry about the once Every Day ladybug.

           In fact, if Lila played her cards right, and she nearly always did. She’d find an alley to teach her. Teach her not to care. Teach her to be stronger. Teach her out to say “Fuck you” to the world.

           Because Marinette no longer cared enough to have any reason not to. Granted she could just say, “I. Don’t. Want. To.” Like she did frequently these days.

Janis. Janis. Janis. Janis

I don't need their good opinions

I have plenty of opinions

Everybody has opinions but it doesn't make them true

           Marinette didn’t care what her old friends thought. Or that they didn’t like her. Who cared? So what if they thought she was a bully? Or a jealous liar. Or a bad friend. Or the new Ice queen.

           She shrugged. She had a lot to say about them to.  And sure she bitched with Luka, Aurore, and Kagami but it wasn’t serious. It was just to vent. Because who cared?

What's true is being me

And I'd rather be me

I'd rather be me than be with you.

So raise them high 'cause playing nice and shy is insulting my IQ

           Marinette had no problem being a bitch if they pushed. She was no longer shy and sweet and far too nice for her own good. Because she had learned her lesson.

           And, Marinette thought, she learned it was so well that life rewarded. She was making clothes for Clara and Jagged. Worked with Chloe’s mom. She had an internship with Teen Vogue, in New York, that summer. Won several design contests. Got to see one of her designs on the red carpet worn by an up and coming actress that Jagged recommended her to.

           The actress said the brand was MDC, created by a kickass teenager name Marinette. That dress got the actress on the best-dressed list, and Marinette twenty more commissions by other almost, or kind of famous celebrities.

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah

I'd Rather Be Me

I'd Rather Be Me

So maybe I should thank you. Marinette adlibbed the line but sang it directly to Lila who smirked as she knew exactly what the other girl was referring to.

           While Marinette would never say it, Lila knew, she had done the girl a favor. Showed her who her real friends were. Or weren’t. And without them, without the niceness and overly caring nature she once had, Marinette had thrived; gone further than Lila ever imagined.

           Lila had only wanted them because she liked the attention. However, she knew they weren’t real friends. No matter what Alya said, they weren’t besties. Lila didn’t trust the glasses-wearing girl as far she could throw her.

Because now I know…

I'd Rather Be Me than be with you!

           Most of her classmates looked sad. A few looked angry. Lila just looked up at her used to be nemesis with admiration and a small smile.

           A brief look of wonder and hope flashed over her face and for a moment she of just saying “To hell with it.” Screaming her sins and go binge watch Grey’s anatomy. Take up dance class when summer was over and the new school year began. She always loved dancing.

           It was the only thing Lila knew was honestly good at; great at even.

           But that moment passed. Lila liked her power. Besides, there was a good chance she could make everyone think Alya was crazy or lying to convince to save her blog; that Lila wasn’t the liar.

           Lila smirked. She had all summer to slowly leave breadcrumbs that Alya was reading too much into the situation, was too desperate, didn’t know what she was talking about. By the time the summer ended, Lila could have all other students convinced the once future great journalist had just lost her edge. So much so that it was reason Ladybug dissed the Ladyblog.

           Alya wouldn’t be a challenge like Marinette had been. Not even close. Marinette had been the Sherlock to Lila’s Moriarty. (If Marinette had kept the game going, Lila would’ve too. Until it was a full-scale war. No prisoners. Just blood; both metaphorical blood and the real red stuff.)

Alya would be too easy. But it would still be fun. Even if Alya managed to pull a fast one, there was no way their little friendships would survive what they did to Marinette. Not all the blame could be put on Lila, no matter how much they tried.

And when Marinette didn’t come back after the truth was revealed and they begged and apologized for never believing her; for not trusting her. Blame would shift. Especially if Lila changed classes like she knew Marinette had to be at least considering.

I'd Rather Be Me

           Because, Marinette would never be their friend again. They were just pawns in the game of life. And Marinette realized that while pawns could become queens. They never went back to being pawns again.

I'd Rather Be Me

I'd Rather Be Me than be with you!

Marinette was doing just fine. She wasn’t their friend. She didn’t like them.

And most importantly, Marinette didn’t care.

[rjhpandapaws]

A Hand in the Matter

Ch8: Make a Home Here

Richard would eventually learn that when seeking help he should probably ask Connor rather than Silas, and he shouldn't ask them both. It was a mistake he probably wouldn't make again given how it went this time.

The Family Feud

UnluckyNine: I need help. I think I made a mistake.

UnluckyNine: I don't think I'm ready to have someone in my apartment for two days.

UnluckyNine: I know its only Gavin, but this is kind of a big deal.

Sixty-Second-Set: Its still a couple days away right? Just cancel last minute, that's what I would do.

Sixty-Second-Set: Wait. Who is Gavin?

Sixty-Second-Set: Why is he staying with you for two days!

Sixty-Second-Set: Where did you meet him? Have you seen him before? Is his name actually Gavin?

Sixty-Second-Set: Do you have proof he's real? Are you sure he's not a serial killer?

RunawayArkait: Silas, stop. Gavin is a friend of Richard's from school.

RunawayArkait: He's staying the weekend because he is helping Richard renovate his apartment.

RunawayArkait: They met at the cafe. Yes his name is Gavin, and they go to school together so obviously they've seen each other.

RunawayArkait: He's not a serial killer Silas. He isn't smart enough.

RunawayArkait: Anyway Richard, you want to do this right? It would be best to just get it over with. Because if you don't do it this weekend, it will just be hanging over your head for whenever you reschedule it.

Sixty-Second-Set: Solution! If he isn't there at a decent time, don't let him in.

RunawayArkait: As someone who was an hour late to their own birth, I don't think you should be the one to give time based ultimatums.

Sixty-Second-Set: Fuck off, Connor. You were an hour early.

UnluckyNine: Thanks for the help. I'll just see how I'm feeling on Friday

RunawayArkait: It'll be fine Nines, you'll see.

Sixty-Second-Set: Call Connor if you need back up.

Sixty-Second-Set: He can call Nora, or whatever her name is, and she can come kick his ass.

RunawayArkait: Her name is North, and he won't need to because its going to be fine.

UnluckyNine: Thanks for the advice

Sixty-Second-Set: Of course! That's what big brothers are for.

RunawayArkait: Its gonna be fine. I promise

The rest of his week was spent getting ready for Gavin to come over. Cleaning. Making sure he had sheets and a blanket big enough for the pull out bed. Cleaning the pull out bed. He went grocery shopping and bought snacks and junk food like what he had seen at Gavin's apartment. Almost texted Gavin on several occasions to cancel, and then deleted them. After the longest and most stressful week in recent history, it was finally Friday. There would be no backing out last minute, he wasn't Silas. On top of that, he was actually looking forward to seeing Gavin. As if on cue his phone lit up with a message from the man in mention.

Gavin Reed: Getting ready to head your way. Need me to pick anything up on my way over?

Me: No. Not that I can think of.

Gavin Reed: Alright, see you soon.

Richard set his phone on the kitchen island and gave his apartment another once over. Making sure everything was where it was supposed to be, that his apartment was presentable. Richard himself was dressed in a more relaxed way than usual. He had on blue sweatpants from Silas, that said University of Idaho Theater Fest down the left leg, and an oversized blank white hoodie. He didn't want Gavin to give him a hard time for going over dressed at home a second time. His phone vibrated against the counter top.

Gavin Reed: On my way up to you.

Me: Ok. The door is unlocked.

He put his phone back down on the island and made his way over to the door and unlocked it. He glanced at the shoe rack by the door. A small grey thing. The impulse purchase that had started all of this. He smiled and headed back to the kitchen.

Normally he would be waiting in the living room, but that was going to be Gavin's space for the weekend. He leaned against the counter until his nervous energy became too much to handle. He opened the fridge and dug through it, looking for the bottles of soda he had bought. He heard Gavin come in, followed by the sound of his shoes hitting the shoe rack. He looked up when Gavin spoke.

"Where do you want this?" He asked gesturing to the bag on his shoulder, an excited smile curling at his lips.

Richard straightened up and pointed at the couch since that was where they decided Gavin would be spending the weekend. With that taken care of, Richard grabbed the two bottles of old fashioned soda and set them on the island. He turned to grab the bottle opener since he didn't know if they were twist tops or not. He slid a bottle over to Gavin when he came back to the kitchen.

"Thanks." Gavin said as he took the bottle, "I got you something, a bit of a house warming gift."

Gavin's other hand came up and he placed a hastily wrapped box on the counter. He slid it over to Richard like it would have bit him if he didn't. Richard opened it carefully, not wanting to tear the paper. The box didn't have a label or anything that would hint as to what was inside, and Richard didn't want to shake it in case it was something fragile. He set the box down on the counter and carefully opened the top. He took out a white mug. Richard turned it over in his hands to see if it had a design on it. He found 'Silence is Golden' written in pretty light blue font. He set the mug down so he could sign and felt a smile tugging at his lips.

'Thank You.' He signed, 'I Love It.'

"I'm glad," Gavin said with a smile of his own, "I saw it in the campus bookstore and thought you might like it."

Richard took a drink from his bottle, trying to ignore the clutter on the counter. Gavin had gotten him something, saw it and thought Richard would like it. Connor and Silas were really the only other people who did that.

"What's the plan for tonight?" Gavin's voice pulled him from his thoughts. He was heading for the living room, "Online shopping, actual shopping, relaxing, or starting on changing around the place."

Richard came to sit beside him on the couch, leaning into the back rest some. Gavin, on the other hand looked like he had melted into it, he looked relaxed and comfortable. A contrast to the tensness that was still clinging to Richard, he was trying his best to relax. His fingers were tapping against the bottle in a rapid staccato pattern. He didn't really want to do anything tonight. If he was honest, he didn't want to do any of this, but Gavin was already here and it was too late to back out. He figured they could just hang out for tonight and worry about the apartment tomorrow.

He finally set the bottle down since he had come to a decision. Richard tried explaining this to Gavin, but he couldn't find signs that conveyed what he meant that were also signs that Gavin knew, and he didn't want to fingerspell everything. He let his frustration out as a sigh. Gavin was picking up ASL quickly, and Richard was proud of him, it was just that he was feeling more than what child-sign could express. So it was only natural that his texts didn't even scratch the surface either.

Me: Could we stay in tonight? Relax and maybe look at things online?

Me: I don't think I'm ready to do much else yet.

"That's perfectly fine," Gavin said as he turned on the tv, flipping to some cartoon he liked listening to, "We'll only do what you're comfortable with."

That was how their afternoon went. Gavin told Richard about his week as he looked at stuff online. Writing down a list of things he wanted to buy and the stores the website said he could find them at. It was comforting to come up with a plan for the weekend so it didn't feel so much like he was going into this blind.

Hours passed and they were just talking. Gavin was talking and Richard was texting his responses. It was a normal evening for them, up until Gavin's stomach growled loudly interrupting the story Gavin had been telling.

'Food?' Richard signed, not bothering to hide the amusement. He was feeling a little hungry himself.

"Yeah, that would probably be a good idea," Gavin said, a laugh hanging onto his words as he covered his stomach, "You in the mood to cook or is it a take out kind of night?"

Definitely a take out kind of night. Richard couldn't cook to save his life and he wasn't about to expose Gavin to that. He pulled up the app and tapped on his usual Italian place and picked the same thing he always got before handing the phone off to Gavin. He took his time picking before handing the phone back. Richard placed the order and Gavin went back to his story.

The conversation fell away when the food arrived. The two of them falling into a familiar and content silence. They relaxed like that for a time, eventually passing notes. Gavin in the mood to talk, but not in the mood to speak. It was nice, and they stayed like that for hours. Enjoying each other's company until Gavin yawned bad enough that it sounded like something in his jaw broke.

"So how are we doing this Nines?" Gavin asked, rubbing at his face and muffling his words.

'You Take Couch.' He signed slow and clear since Gavin was tired, 'I Take Bed.'

With that established Richard began packing up the remaining food and putting it away. Leaving Gavin to handle the garbage. It reminded him of when he spent the evenings at Gavin's. Getting the pull out bed set up didn't take long and he let Gavin get ready for bed first since he looked like he was going to fall asleep if he stayed in one place for too long. It was new, but not unsettling to have someone else here, but he supposed it was because he was used to being around Gavin.

He took his turn getting ready for bed, and once he was done for the night, he checked in with Silas like he promised he would.

Me: I'm not dead.

Silas: Did he do anything weird.

Me: No.

Me: He bought a coffee mug as a house warming gift which was nice

Silas: You're alright then?

Me: I promise.

Me: I'm going to bed now.

Silas: Sleep well.

When morning rolled around Richard got ready for the day, a grey turtle neck paired with dark jeans, and made his way to the kitchen as quietly as he could. Being mindful of Gavin, who was still passed out on the couch. He got the coffee grounds out and into the machine before he heard signs of life from the living room. Gavin came into the kitchen as though summoned by the spluttering of the coffee machine.

"Good morning Richard," Gavin managed through his yawn, his sea green eyes barely showing signs of life. "How did you sleep?"

'Good Morning.' Richard signed back with a smile, 'I Slept Fine.'

The kitchen fell silent after that. Gavin was leaning against the counter, in the small corner made by it and the fridge. His eyes were open and he was looking around, but it didn't seem like he was seeing anything. Richard hadn't gotten to witness pre-coffee Gavin before, and now he understood why Gavin's texts this time of day were only one word. It was kind of endearing to see a new side of Gavin.

Richard grabbed mugs as the coffee finished, a plain one for Gavin, as well as the one Gavin had bought him. He poured Gavin's first, leaving room for the abysmal amount of cream he felt the need to add to his coffee, and pointed the semi-alert male in the direction of the fridge. He poured his own next, then returned the pot to the machine.

"That's some good coffee," Gavin joked tiredly when he caught Richard looking at him.

'You Monster,' Richard signed back with his free hand and pulling a face to make his point.

Silence settled over the kitchen again, though this time it was content rather than exhausted. Richard was absently staring out the window, going over the plan for the weekend in his head. Today they were shopping, picking up the things Richard had decided on last night. He liked them and hoped they would make his apartment feel less like a hospital room.

Gavin got ready quickly after he finished his coffee and met Richard at the door when he was ready to leave. They were taking Richard's car because Gavin had brought his bike over. He was glad to have Gavin with him since he'd never done any important shopping like this before. What he had now was a collection of things that used to belong to Connor and Silas that had sat in storage when they had moved. The things they were getting today would be Richard's and would finally make the apartment feel like it was his.

Richard had made a list of stores along with what he hoped to find at each one last night. When they arrived at the first store he found a place to park that was relatively close.

'Ready?' He signed at Gavin as he got unbuckled.

"Yeah." Came Gavin's reply as he got out.

Richard joined them and they made their way inside. The store was big and had an open floor plan with furniture on one side and decorations on the other. He made his way through the store picking things out that were on his list, crossing them off as well as other stores as he got them. He also picked up a few novelty things that caught his eye, including a present for Gavin. It was a mug that said 'cunt' in black print with the letter 'c' making up the handle. He figured Gavin would get a kick out of it given his sense of humor.

The other stops went similarly. Richard getting things off his list as well as a few other things that caught his eye. Some of them for Gavin when he did well on signing or passed his Psychology tests. None of the places they went had the shelves he wanted for his room. One place had some that were similar, and he bought them for his office. They were going to try one last place before giving up and ordering them online.

The store his phone directed them to was massive. The website said they at least sold the shelves he was looking for, but didn't say if they had any in stock. Looking couldn't hurt.

He and Gavin wandered the store. Following the signs in hopes of finding the shelves. They were stopped in an aisle trying to get their bearings. Richard didn't think they were going to find the shelves here. He was going to say as much to Gavin, but he saw a girl in the store's uniform coming toward them. Maybe she could help.

She spoke to them as she approached, "Can I help you and your..." her eyes moved from Richard to Gavin and then back as she chose her words, "partner find anything specific."

Richard froze. His partner? She meant Gavin, he knew that much, but it wasn't like that. They weren't like that. It wasn't like that. Richard tried telling her that but his signs wouldn't cooperate. He turned to Gavin, silently begging for help because he didn't know how to get out of this situation.

"Oh, uh. No. We're alright, thanks." Gavin sounded just as embarrassed as Richard felt, he hadn't explained that they weren't together, but his words had gotten the sales clerk to leave them be, which was just as good.

They stared at one another for a long while, the silence between them wasn't awkward, but there was something hanging in it. Gavin broke into a smile and then broke down into uncontrollable laughter. It got to the point that he was nearly doubled over. Richard's own anxiety was beginning to subside and he couldn't help but smile at Gavin, the other's delight rubbing off on him. They didn't find the shelves, but that was fine.

"Let's head back," Gavin said when he finally had control over his breathing. "We can pick up some food on the way back. Then order the shelves when we get back to your place."

Richard found himself hyper aware of how close he was to Gavin the rest of the night. Keeping a friendly distance between them and decided he could give him the mug another time. He didn't want to give Gavin the wrong impression.

They continued talking about it, Richard taking delight in Gavin's awkwardness. They exchanged pleasant stories and memories well into the evening. The late night hours became early morning and when they were both sagging into the pull out bed, Richard decided it was time to get some sleep.

'Okay,' Richard signed as he stood with a yawn, 'Bed Time.'

He let Gavin use the bathroom first again. When Richard was done for the night he climbed into bed and messaged Silas.

Me: Today was interesting

Silas: What did Garrett do?

Me: Gavin.

Me: He didn't do anything, but a worker at a furniture mistook us for a couple.

Silas: You said he wasn't doing anything!

Me: He wasn't. We were just kind of close

Silas: Why?

Me: We were lost.

Me: Anyway, its late so I'm going to sleep.

Silas: Be safe

Me: Always

Richard woke up at his usual time, the late night not quite beating natural habit. Like yesterday, Richard went about making coffee as quietly as possible. Since they were staying at the apartment he was back in comfortable clothes. The same blue sweatpants as before and a loose black t-shirt with an old style cat emoji on it. Just like the day before, the smell off coffee brought a barely coherent Gavin into the kitchen.

"Morning." Gavin muttered, sounding like he would much rather be asleep. "Today's the day. Are you excited?"

'Morning.' Richard signed back, choosing to answer Gavin's question with a nod. He didn't look awake enough for more signing.

When the coffee finished he poured Gavin's first sliding it over to him so he could get around to actually waking up. Richard poured his own next, holding it in his hands to soak up the warmth. He found himself watching Gavin, and rolled his eyes when the other all but moaned into his coffee. Understanding the sentiment, Richard lifted his own mug in a mock salute.

"Look. One of us can't function before eleven in the morning." He complained, hiding a yawn behind his mug before he took another drink, "Its not my fault you can't wake up at a normal time."

'Waking Up Afternoon Not Normal,' he replied dryly, winking at Gavin in place of a smile. Richard found morning's to be the most peaceful time of day and he liked them the best.

"Richard." He groaned gesturing to the window with his free hand, "Its the weekend. Its practically against the law to wake up early on the weekend."

'Yet Here You Are.' Richard felt himself smiling as he signed, 'Awake Early Sunday Morning.'

Gavin rolled his eyes and gave a genuine but tired laugh, "Okay, no need to be so damn smug. You've made your point."

'Have I?' Richard asked with the quirk of a brow.

This earned him getting flipped off by Gavin. He rolled his eyes again and hid a broad smile behind his mug. Gavin finished his coffee first and cleaned his mug out in the sink, setting it aside when he was done.

"Alright, I'm going to start by cleaning up my shit from the living room," he gestured in the vague direction of the couch, but Richard got the idea. "Then where do you want me?"

'My Room.' Richard signed before finishing off the rest of his coffee and cleaning out the mug.

Richard went to his room with every intention of redecorating but caught sight of his open closet doors. Part of making this apartment his was getting rid of those. He walked back out of his room to the hall closet, he opened the door and dug around until he found his tool kit. Richard took it back to his room and got started on the doors. He was working on the one farthest from the bedroom door. He got the top hinge detached without a problem. With that out of the way, he sat down and got to work on the bottom hinge. He heard Gavin knock on the doorframe before he spoke.

"What," Gavin started from behind him, sounding genuinely confused, "are you doing?"

Richard, personally, thought what he was doing was rather obvious. He was taking his closet doors off their frame. He gestured to the door as a way to get his point across and got back to work.

"Okay," Gavin continued, sounding just as confused as before, "and you're taking the door off its hinges because why exactly?"

Richard took a deep breath, letting it put as a frustrated sigh. After making sure the door wasn't going to fall if he left it unattended, he turned to face Gavin.

'I Do Not Like Noise They Make. Help Me.' He emphasized the last two signs by pointing at Gavin, then at the door that was still standing.

"You have a plan of what you're gonna do once they're off?" He asked as he walked over and leaned against the frame of the closet.

'No.' He stopped for a moment, wondering if they could fit in his car, deciding they couldn't he moved on, 'Do Not Want Them Here.'

"We'll figure it out I guess," came Gavin's response as he stood upright again, he eyed the door before he looked back at Richard, "you got anything to make this easier or are we just gonna brute force it?"

As much as Richard would have loved to see that, he didn't think the complex owners wouldn't like it too much if they couldn't replace the doors. He reached behind himself for the screwdriver he had been using and handed it to Gavin.

They worked in silence after that. Getting thr doors off and finding a place for them took longer than Richard thought it would. They settled for sticking them in the back of the bathroom closet, he found the irony of that a little amusing. The shelves for his room wouldn't be coming in for another ten days, but everything else could be set up today.

He took his time in his room, reorganizing things as he got it put together. Richard enjoyed himself as he redecorated his room, relaxing as the space came to look more lived in. His room came to have a blue and grey color scheme that he found calming and visually appealing. He took a picture of the finished product to send to Silas and Connor, making sure Gavin wasn't in the shot. Silas would lose it if he saw him in Richard's room, he would get the wrong idea.

The office came next, and setting up the shelves took the longest. Organizing them was easy though. The one to the right of the door as you came in was for books and paper work, the one to the left came to hold office supplies, a ship in a bottle, and a Lucky Cat statue from Gavin. Like with his bedroom, Richard took a picture to send to his brothers once Gavin had left.

Richard worked on the bathroom next, which didn't take him long. It was just changing the shower curtains and putting up different towels. The shower curtain was a blown up picture of the beach. Another picture that was sent to his brothers.

The last room left to do was the living room. Richard left it as the last room so Gavin had time to get all of his stuff together. He started with the media stand, placing ocean themed glass globes on either side of the tv, and light blue fairy lights along the front of the shelf. He placed two grey costers in shade order from lightest to darkest on each corner of the coffee table and a line of three white-blue electric candles along the center of it.

The couch was the last thing left to be decorated. Richard went back to his room to grab the bags of throw pillows. When he came back he couldn't find Gavin. Assuming he was in the bathroom, Richard started on the couch. He was smacked on the back with something soft, and turned to find Gavin triumphantly holding a pillow with "fuck off" stitched into it with light purple thread. He smacked Richard again, this time in the chest. It was on now.

Richard took a pillow off the couch and grinned at Gavin who seemed to realize he was a little out of his depth. He threw the pillow at Gavin causing him to back up, it hit him in the chest anyway. He ducked under the next one and threw his pillow at Richard. He caught it effectively disarming Gavin.

He backed Gavin into the wall with a barrage of pillows and was poised to throw the "fuck off" pillow when Gavin finally called his surrender.

"Okay! Okay!" He managed between bouts of laughter, "I'm sorry for smacking you with that pillow. Even if you deserved it."

Richard still threw the pillow, hitting Gavin lightly in the shoulder. They got to work setting up the pillows at each armrest, some along the back. Gavin placing the "fuck off" pillow in the center so it could easily be seen. When he moved away from the couch, Richard took a picture of the living room, making sure Gavin was in the shot this time, and sending it to his brothers.

"There its perfect." Gavin said, turning to face Richard with a smile as he put his phone away, "home sweet home."

Richard returned the smile, something light and warm making its home in his chest as he looked at Gavin, 'Home Sweet Home.'

For the first time, it felt true. This apartment was finally a home, a place where he could simply be, rather than be confined to. It was a new feeling and he liked it. Richard hoped one day he had the right words to thank Gavin for this.

[css1992]

Do you take prompts? Cause I'm dying to read some good Mob boss Tony who's badass with everyone else and melts down for his baby Peter! :) Thank you anyways 😊

Hello there! I’m not sure I’m gonna take prompts yet, because I’m a really slow writer and would probably get overwhelmed way too quickly, but I do love myself some Mob Boss!Tony, I just needed an excuse to write it, haha.

@roleplayangelprincess, I really do hope you like this! Thank you for reaching out. XO

Mob Boss!Tony x Precious!Peter

Word count: 5k+

Warnings: explicit, nff, 18+, mentions of blood, violence, torture and child abuse (nothing explicit), no violence between main pairing. Mafia AU. If you spot anything else that might be triggering to anyone, please let me know!

-*-

Tony’s world had always smelt of gunpowder, blood and tears, for as long as he could remember. The only lullabies he knew were the sounds of shots being fired, screams of horror and desperate begging. Howard used to say it was important that he was raised in the middle of all that, he believed it would make him a tougher man, a firmer leader. He wanted Tony to experience all those situations he usually found himself in, because one day it would all be his – his whole empire, all of New York City’s underworld would be in the palm of his hands, and the scum of the earth that lived in it would be able to smell fear, weakness and softness from three thousand miles away.

So Tony never knew softness, kindness or gentleness. He was raised on blood, tears and gunpowder, to the sounds of screams, gunshots and begging. He was groomed to be a leader as heartless and cold as Howard, to be able to pull the trigger without hesitating. Cold and calculated. He was eight when he killed for the first time, just old enough to support the weight of the gun with both hands and handle its kickback.

The man had begged and cried, looking into his eyes, and Tony didn’t feel anything, he had heard those sounds so many times by then, it did nothing to him. Howard said “do it” and he did. He pulled the trigger. The man’s blood spattered his face and arms and shirt and it was weirdly warm, like teardrops on his skin. He stood there, mesmerized for a few seconds, before Maria told him to go clean up and get ready for supper.

That episode was his life in a nutshell, the smells, the sounds, the darkness, his mother’s reaction, his father’s nod of approval. He grew used to it all, he embraced it, he craved it, and he didn’t know anything else.

Until Peter.

Peter was a ray of fucking sunshine on Tony’s cloudy, dark days, and he hated it at first. He hated that he made his world brighter, he hated that Peter made him want to bend to his every wish, hated that he made him want to protect him from the world, hated that he made him feel so fucking vulnerable, and weak, and exposed, but he loved him. He fucking loved him so much. He had no idea when it started,  but it felt like from day one, he never had a choice.

Tony had just left one of his clubs in a terrible mood, one of his most profitable deals had fallen though due to his employees’ incompetence and he had had to kill people – six, to be precise –  it was a bloodbath, there was running and screaming and just nonsense in general, as he sat there and rolled his eyes at the failed escape attempts. To top it all off, there was blood on his favorite suit. It was a three-piece, Italian cut suit and it would go to waste thanks to those idiots running around like fools. All in all, a bad day.

“Excuse me, sir! Excuse me!” And then, sunshine. That chirpy, high-pitched voice coming from behind him was slightly annoying, and if he had been just a little more pissed he would have turned and shot him on the spot, no questions asked, but as it was, he’d maybe just tell him to fuck off.

When he turned around, though, there was a young man looking back at him, clearly scared now. Tony noticed that Rogers and Barnes had their guns pointed at him, as he raised his shaky, thin arms in surrender, a black, Italian leather wallet in his hand. “Y-you, y-you dr-drop...” He couldn’t even speak, so Tony took that time to look him over. He looked young, probably in his late teens or early twenties, he was thin and short and he had a very pretty face for a boy. He wore baggy jeans and an oversized NYU hoodie, so Tony guessed he was a student. In short, a very delicious meal for such a shitty night.

“Rogers, my wallet,” Tony cut the boy off, gesturing for Steve to get his wallet from him. He almost passed out when the blonde man approached him, still holding the gun to his face.

“I don’t mean any trouble, sir, I’m so sorry, I just found the wallet on the ground, I-I swear,” He whimpered pitifully and the sound made Tony’s cock twitch. He raised an eyebrow at himself.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking around to maybe try to figure out where the boy had come from. They were in a deserted area, somewhere between Queens and Brooklyn, near one of his clubs and a few of his warehouses, there was nothing around there that would justify Peter’s presence, unless he had ulterior motives and the college student get-up was just a ruse.

“W-walking home from work, sir. I-I didn’t have any money left f-for the subway,” He stuttered, hands still up, he was shaking all over now, and it usually didn’t bother Tony, but he was such a pretty thing, the older man didn’t like to see those squirming for the wrong reasons, he had other uses for them. If the boy was harmless, that terrible night could still be saved.

“What’s your name, boy?” That was all Natasha needed to run a background check on him and, in that moment, he found out the name of what would come to be his greatest weakness. Peter Parker. He looked at Barnes and he nodded quietly, sending a message to Natasha to run a quick check. As soon as it came back clear, he opened a big, shark-like smile at the still trembling boy. “Well, it appears we got off on the wrong foot, sweetheart.”

In retrospect, Tony wouldn’t be able to tell what possessed him that night, what made him think that it would be a good idea to lure him into his car and offer him a ride home. He knew that the boy did things to him, he was gorgeous and innocent-looking, a personal favorite, but Tony didn’t often act on impulse. Even his one-night-stands were carefully chosen and vetted, he couldn’t afford to take any risks; but that night, for the first time – the first of many –, he made an exception for Peter Parker. He didn’t know what made the younger man come with him, either, specially after being held at gunpoint by Rogers and Barnes, but he came, probably possessed by the same entity that clouded Tony’s judgment.

The mob boss made up a story about being the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company and told him that Rogers and Barnes were his bodyguards. He wasn’t too far off from the truth, he did run a multi-billion dollar business and Barnes and Rogers were the only two people in the world he trusted with his life. He told the naive boy that he couldn’t tell him the company’s name for safety reasons, and he ate it all up like a good boy, got in the car with Tony and was easily charmed by his words.

What the older man didn’t count on, though, was that he was really charming, too, in his own way. He was smart and sharp, slightly sarcastic and sassy, and really, really sweet. The older man couldn’t quite understand why it attracted him so much when he took the boy back to his place, but it did, and when he had him sprawled on his one-thousand thread count Egyptian sheets, mouth slack and begging for more, he thought it was merely lust.

Only it didn’t go away after that first night, but Tony thought he just had to fuck him out of his system, which seemed easy enough. He invited Peter to dinner – unfortunately, he had to keep up the facade of being a nice gentleman if he wanted to have him again – and the boy was so fucking happy to hear from him when he picked up the phone. Tony could swear his room got brighter when his voice filled up the empty space.

He was just as charming and even more sassy the second time they met, a little less shy, a little bolder now that Tony knew what he looked like naked and stuffed full of his cock. He took him back home again. And again. And again. By the fifth time they got together, Tony realized – with the utmost horror – that he was beginning to care about the boy. He longed to see him, he wanted to know about his days; he was amused by his antics, he remembered the names of his friends from school, and the professors he liked and disliked. He wanted to hurt the people who made him sad for whatever reason, he was worried about his eating habits, he wanted to make all his money problems disappear. He cared about him.

So, logically, he had to kill him.

There was just no other way, Tony Stark couldn’t afford to care about anybody, it was too big of a weakness, it was gonna be his downfall and he couldn’t have it. So by the sixth night, he did what he had to do. He unwrapped the thin, pale arms from his chest, untucked the sweet-smelling head from under his chin, and got out of bed. He took his gun from the nightstand drawer and pointed it at Peter’s head.

He’d make it painless, the boy wouldn’t have to suffer, he’d die peacefully in his sleep. Tony would have to buy another bed, but other than that, it wouldn’t be much of a clean-up, the way the boy was lying almost in the center of the bed, there wouldn’t even be blood on the floor. Besides, he didn’t have any family left, he only had a couple of friends at school and two more who were away for college, so not many people to look for him. They’d think he’d moved away or something.

Tony stared at him over the barrel of his gun. As soon as he had stepped out of the bed, Peter reached for his pillow and clutched it like a doll, dreaming away, with an almost unnoticeable smile on his lips, completely unaware that he was sharing a bed with the most dangerous criminal in New York, possibly in the whole country. So innocent, and naive, and beautiful.

He was so tiny, so out of place in his cold, dark world. Peter didn’t smell like blood or gunpowder, he smelled like something sweet and edible, he never screamed or cried, he always had a bright smile for him and the most delectable laugh.

Tony faltered. No matter how hard he tried to will his finger to pull the trigger, he couldn’t do it, he just couldn’t fucking do it. He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered the gun, cursing under his breath, unable to believe he couldn’t do such a simple thing. Eight-years-old Tony hadn’t fucking blinked when Howard told him to do it. Why couldn’t he fucking do it?

“Tony? Is everything okay?” When he opened his eyes again, Peter was sitting up, and he looked worried. Tony noticed his eyes were fixed on the gun in his hand. “What’s going on?” He whispered, looking around the room, as if there was a threat out there, little did he know he was face to face with the devil himself.

“Nothing, sweetheart, I just thought I heard something. I checked, it’s nothing, go back to sleep.” He put the gun back in the drawer and the boy breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, good. Come back to bed, then.” He reached out his arms to Tony, so open and trusting, sitting on his big bed, swallowed by all those expensive sheets, wearing one of his old t-shirts. So fucking small, and breakable, and vulnerable. Tony couldn’t keep him. As long as the boy was alive, he would be a weakness, he could be used as leverage.

So he needed to die. It was for his own good.

The next day, he called Barnes into his office, lighted up a cigar and slowly smoked it as he tried to digest the words he had to say to him. The other man stood there stoically, waiting patiently, until Tony blurted out, “I need you to kill Peter.” He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t even flinch. Professional as ever.

“When do you need it done, boss?” Barnes was the best man for the job, Steve was great, but he was a little soft, and Tony saw the way he looked at the kid, with that small, discreet smile full of fondness.

“Tonight,” he said, jaw set, eyes narrowed. It needed to be done. “He has a night shift at the diner. He gets off at eleven, I want it done by then. You know the drill, be discreet, careful not to make much of a mess, don’t leave any witnesses, yada yada.” He gestured with his cigar, feeling detached, like he was talking about anybody else but Peter.

“You got it, boss.” Barnes nodded and turned to leave, only to be stopped by Tony’s voice.

“Barnes,” Tony didn’t look at him when he turned around. “Make it quick. And painless.”

“Of course.”

So Tony waited. And that day might as well have lasted a fucking year, the way the hours dragged, he couldn’t concentrate on his meetings, couldn’t fucking eat, not even his cigars were enough to calm him down. He was snapping at his employees, killing people for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, losing money for being too fucking off his game.

Around ten that night, he sat on his favorite armchair, the one one in which he and Peter fucked when they couldn’t even make it to the bed, and waited. He drank his scotch and pretended to think of something else, anything, but his mind kept going back to Peter’s lifeless body covered in blood. Gone forever. He lighted up a cigar and, when he noticed his fingers were fucking shaking as it approached eleven o’clock, he realized he couldn’t fucking do it. At ten fifty-eight, he called Barnes.

“Barnes, what’s your status?” He asked, a lump in his throat, afraid it was too late already.

“He’s gathering up his things to leave, boss.” He answered calmly and Tony sighed in relief.

“I’m calling it off. Come back here right now, you and Rogers.”

“Yes, boss.”

As he waited for them, he poured himself a glass of scotch, weighting his options. He couldn’t kill Peter, but he couldn’t let him be a weakness either, so he needed a plan. First of all, Peter couldn’t be kept in the dark anymore, it was too dangerous. Second of all, nobody could ever know about him, the only two people who already knew he existed were Barnes and Rogers, and he would keep it that way.

“It’s your duty to make sure no one knows about him. Not a single soul. I mean it.” He stared at them intently and they looked back at him impassibly, nodding. “If anyone gets a whiff of him, if anyone tries to harm him in any way, I’m gonna choose one of you to torture and kill and let the other one watch and then lock them in the same room with the body to watch it rot, are we clear?”

“Yes, boss,” they both answered in unison, unfazed. One of the reasons Tony trusted them with his life was because they were each other’s weakness, they were easy to threaten. The second reason, of course, was because they risked their lives to rescue him when the Ten Rings gang managed to kidnap him, under Obadiah Stane’s orders, the jealous bastard. Nobody else came but them, and they took down the whole gang by themselves. He rewarded them handsomely, and they became the highest ranking people in his inner circle, followed closely by Natasha and Bruce.

“Good. Bring him to me.”

Not even an hour later, Peter walked into his office, looking frightened. As soon as he saw Tony, though, he breathed a great sigh of relief, rushing to his side to sit on his lap and hold him tight. Tony raised a brow, confused.

“I was so worried, Bucky and Steve just picked me up and they wouldn’t say anything, I thought something had happened to you.” His little arms clutched his neck tightly, desperately, and Tony’s heart swelled with emotions he didn’t even know existed. He breathed in the boy’s scent, feeling nervous all of a sudden, he wasn’t sure why.

“We need to talk, Peter.” He held his head with both hands and pushed him a little. “Maybe you’ll want to sit a little farther away from me for what I’m about to tell you.”

“I know what you’re gonna tell me. Please, don’t.” Tony froze at that, muscles going rigid, eyes wide. He stared at the kid’s face and he looked embarrassed, sad and scared.

“What do you think you know, Pete?” He asked quietly, studying the boy’s reactions. He shrugged his shoulders, avoiding Tony’s eyes.

“I think you’re not really a CEO,” he whispered, as a single tear ran down his cheek. Tony reached out to dry it immediately. “I-I think you h-hurt people… And stuff.”

“What stuff? Why do you think that?” He tucked a curl behind his ear and placed a finger on his chin to force him too look at him.

“I don’t know what stuff, just… Stuff. Illegal stuff.” More tears followed and he closed his eyes briefly, opening them a few seconds later. Tony waited patiently. “I’ve heard you on the phone a few times, I can smell gunpowder on you. And – blood. And it’s never yours.” Tony nodded slowly, watching his boy falling apart before his eyes, he looked pained. He was clearly a lot smarter then he let on and a lot sneakier, if he had been listening in on his phone calls. Weirdly, the older man wasn’t even mad.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” He questioned, trying to dry his tears again, holding the boy’s cheeks in his palms. He nodded slowly.

“It terrifies me,” he admitted quietly. “But I – I just. I can’t stay away from you.” He frowned and Tony sighed, smiling softly.

“I couldn’t hurt you if I tried, baby boy.” He wanted to laugh at how true that was.

“I know. I think I know that, just. Just don’t tell me wh– I don’t want to know. The things you do.”

“Of course, it has nothing to do with you, you’re not a part of this world. I’m just gonna need you to be more careful, ok, baby? We’ll set a few ground rules, and everything will be just fine.” He rubbed the boys arms as he nodded, but he still seemed agitated and nervous. ”Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I – Yeah, I guess.” He tried to smile but it turned into a grimace as a few more tears escaped his eyes. “I’m really scared.”

“Peter, listen to me. You don’t ever have to be scared, do you hear me? No one can touch you, you’re under my protection. Do you understand that? No one would dare, I swear to you. I swear it.” There was a lot of confidence in his voice, but he was terrified himself, he was afraid he couldn’t keep that promise, but Peter believed him. The way his face softened and he was finally able to smile again, Tony knew he believed him.  

They took it one day at a time, slowly figuring out their own rules. After that talk, they didn’t see each other for a few weeks, just in case someone had taken notice of the fact that Peter had entered the tower seven times over the course of four months. Then, for the boy’s spring break, Tony took him to Japan for a week, where they could walk around freely, hand in hand, only taking a few precautions before traveling, like not boarding the same plane. After that, they were able to establish a weekly routine, they never met on the same day or at the same time, but they never went more than a week without seeing each other. Quickly, days turned into weeks, which turned into months, which turned into years. Two whole years, and Tony still couldn’t believe how a boy like Peter could belong with a monster like him.

“Boss, the prince is upstairs,” Barnes warned him as soon as he stepped into the tower, to Tony’s surprise. They hadn’t scheduled anything for that night and, for a few seconds, the older man panicked and it must have shown, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. “He’s unharmed. He insisted that I brought him as a surprise, just a heads-up.” He added and the boss let out a breath slowly, nodding.

“Very well.”

Tony hurried upstairs and as soon as he stepped inside the apartment, he was gifted with the sight of his young lover sitting on his armchair. He was wearing one of the older man’s t-shirts, his favorite one, the oldest Tony owned. He didn’t seem to be wearing anything underneath it, as Tony got a glimpse of his cute little cock peeking out from under the hem of his shirt, between his parted legs. The boy was sleeping, head resting on a hand, propped on the arm of the chair.

The older man walked towards him, loosening his tie, then stopped in front of him. He knelt by his feet, stroked his calves lightly and kissed both of his knees softly. The boy’s eyes fluttered open in surprise, until they finally focused on Tony.

“My prince,” The older man greeted, kissing his way up the pale, plump legs, stopping at the hem of the t-shirt. “Did I keep you waiting?”

“Tony,” He mumbled sleepily, running his fingers through the other’s graying hair. “It’s okay, I was hoping to surprise you, actually, but I guess I fell asleep.” His hand slid towards the older man’s cheek and he leaned into it like a cat, turning a little to place a kiss on his palm.

“Good boy,” he resumed his kisses on pale, shivering thighs, and Peter sighed quietly. “What was this surprise about, baby boy?”

“Just missed you, it’s been a while,” Peter adjusted himself on the chair, sliding his lower half down the seat and spreading his legs wider, until Tony could see a sparkle between the boy’s cheeks, where his pink, tight hole should be. The young man was blushing slightly, Tony found it endearing that he still did, after all that time.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness, have I been neglecting you?” His fingers slid across Peter’s legs, thumbs drawing circles on the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs, and the boy’s breath hitched as he got closer and closer to his balls. Tony saw his small cock flushing pink as it stood to attention, and the toy inside his hole jerked.

“It’s okay, you’re busy.” Which was absolutely true. Between Peter’s classes, Tony’s tight schedule and having to keep the boy a secret, there wasn’t a lot of time for them to meet, but Tony would correct that soon. When the boy graduated in a couple of months, he wouldn’t be such an easy target anymore, at least he wouldn’t have a predictable schedule in such a public place. He could live at the tower, where it was safe, and Barnes and Rogers could take care of him whenever he needed to go out.

“I was, little one, but I have all the time in the world for you now, let’s see this surprise of yours, shall we?” He spread Peter’s legs further, placing each of them on the arms of the chair, his boy was incredibly flexible, gorgeous to watch. He raised his shirt a little bit, just up to his stomach, but didn’t take it off. “Ah, I see. What a beautiful surprise you have there, baby boy. Thank you.” His little hole was stretched around the plug Tony had bought for him, a slick, black one, with jewels encrusted on the handle, now sticking out of him. It wasn’t too big or thick, he liked him to be tight, after all. “Did my prince come while putting this in?”

“Yes, sir… Twice,” He was already panting and Tony hadn’t even touched him where it mattered yet. He smirked and clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, you must have been really starved for cock, right? Daddy haven’t been feeding you properly. We’re gonna correct this now.” He held the end of the plug and pushed it in a little more, moved it around a bit, only to hear his boy gasp when it brushed his sweet spot. Then he slowly started pulling it out, watching in amazement as his rim stretched to allow the thickest part of the toy to come out. Once it was completely out, his hole gaped for a few seconds, before clenching furiously around nothing.

The kneeling position was hard on his knees, but his prince deserved nothing less, so stayed there and leaned in, licking the wet, quivering hole, eliciting a desperate moan from Peter, as he held his own knees in an attempt to keep his legs spread open. Tony gripped his thin waist, fingers digging into his soft flesh, hard enough to leave marks, and tried to fuck his tongue inside him. Since it was already a little loose from the toy, it gave in and he was able to lick inside him, and the boy cried out in pleasure, rocking his hips against his mouth.

“Oh, I missed this, Tony… I missed this…” He mumbled, arching his back, and the older man kept going, tongue buried inside his hole, fucking and licking it, biting his ass cheeks carefully when the young man tried to close his thighs around his head. He tasted delicious and smelled amazing. Tony made his way up to his ball as he pressed two fingers into his hole. They went in with barely any resistance as the boy moaned desperately when Tony sucked his balls into his mouth.

Peter writhed on the chair, hands buried in the older man’s hair, trying to pull him closer, small whimpers leaving his mouth every time the man’s fingers brushed his prostate. Tony licked his way back to his hole, as he tried to fuck it with both his tongue and fingers, until he could see Peter was way too close to the edge.

He got up from the floor and undid his pants. As soon as his cock sprung free, Peter launched himself at it, grabbing it with one hand and sucking the head into his mouth, like a starving man. Tony’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he groaned, burying his fingers in his wild curls and tugging just a little, enough to prevent him from deep-throating his cock – he probably wouldn’t last long if he did, sometimes he thought he might come just from rimming him.

He held his head with both hands, setting a steady pace, and Peter obeyed happily. He licked the tip of his cock, kissed it gently, then went back to sucking as one of his hands came up to play with the older man’s heavy balls – he hadn’t come in days. He took a deep breath and allowed his boy to have his fun for a while, but then pushed him gently and lifted him from the chair, taking a seat himself.

“Come sit on your throne, my prince.” He grinned devilishly, and Peter didn’t even blink an as he placed a knee on each side of Tony’s thighs, reaching behind himself to guide his cock inside.

“Oh, fuck,” He cried, as he sank down onto his cock, mouth hanging open, head thrown back in ecstasy. Tony watched, mesmerized, as the boy took him in slowly, inch by inch, until his cock was completely sheathed inside his tight heat. Peter’s inner walls massaged him as his little hole fluttered, trying to adjust to his girth, and he made little sounds of pain and pleasure.

“You’re perfect, baby, perfect for me,” Tony held his face by the cheeks and brought him closer, licking his lips open to kiss him messily and hungrily. He’d missed him, too, his soft skin, his high-pitched voice, his tiny hands stroking his face, the bouncy, sweet-smelling curls. Peter truly belonged in another world, and although he should feel completely out of place in Tony’s arms, nothing ever felt so right in his life.

The younger man started moving after a few seconds, whimpering against Tony’s lips as he rocked his hips back and forth, up and down. His hands clutched the back of the chair as he bounced on the older man’s cock, following the pace set by Tony’s hands on his hips. The older man slapped his ass once, twice, only to see the boy coming undone, biting his lips and trying to stop himself from screaming.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he grunted, fucking up into him as he bit the younger man’s lips, holding his neck with a hand. When he slapped him a third time, Peter couldn’t hold it in anymore, he screamed the older man’s name as he came with a blinding force, arching his back and gripping his shoulders. If the sight of Peter out of his mind with pleasure wasn’t enough to push him over the edge, the way he clenched his hole on his cock would do it. The older man followed suit, as he grunted against the boy’s neck, leaving marks on his skin.

Peter went limp in his arms, completely relaxed and safe, arms wrapped around his shoulders as Tony held him close, protectively. If it were up to him, Peter would never leave the penthouse, he’d quit his job, and school, and be right there where Tony could look after him. But of course he was a feisty little one, so it wasn’t up to Tony.

“Have you eaten, little one?” He whispered, placing soft kisses on his shoulders and neck, and the boy shuddered.

“No, I was waiting for you.” He whispered back, snuggling further into his arms. “But now I’m sleepy.”

“Poor baby.” He placed a kiss on his temple. “Why don’t you take a nap while I cook you some Bucatini Carbonara, huh? Isn’t that your favorite?”

“No, I’ll cook, you always cook for me,” he mumbled against his neck and Tony could barely understand what he said.

“But you’re sleepy, baby. Besides, you’re a terrible cook on a good day.” Tony chuckled, feeling the boy laughing against his chest.

“Fine, I’ll help, then,” he compromised, pecking his lips.

“Sounds great.”

Peter carefully lifted off of his cock, then stepped out of the chair, hurrying to the bathroom. Tony watched, heart clenching, as his boy walked away. He squeezed his eyes shut for a minute, trying to rein in the feeling of dread that overtook him as he imagined Peter in danger, held captive by someone like him, someone as cruel and heartless as him, someone who would torture him, make him suffer, just to get to Tony. He opened his eyes wide, feeling helpless, as he realized there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to protect him. He’d give away his entire kingdom, he’d give his own life in exchange for his.

Peter came back to the living room, still wearing his old t-shirt, a huge grin on his face as he rambled about school. Tony smiled to himself. He was worth it.