#(sorry Es I was only able to give you that one scene)

[mgjong]

Hated by Life Itself - Milgram AMV

To commemorate the near end of Milgram's second trial I made a small amateur AMV! Hope everyone enjoys and sorry for the bad editing!

Credits and Youtube link under the break!

CREDITS:

Video by: MilgramOfficial

Original Song: 命に嫌われている。/初音ミク

Cover Used: Life hates us now. / Mafumafu 【Sang It】

Lyrics: Vocaloid Lyrics Wiki

Poorly stitched together by: Me!

Youtube Video Link (unlisted):

MILGRAM AMV - Hated by Life Itself (Mafumafu cover)

[cordeliawhohung]

¡Hola! Disculpa si el mensaje es en español pero no sé como expresarme en inglés sin que parezca un curso de idiomas en nivel 1 🤡. Estoy aquí para decirte que, amo absolutamente tu AU!Mafia y ha sido de las joyas que he encontrado en este lugar. ✨ *escala las paredes y patalea en la cama*

¿Podrías darnos más de John Price x Reader? Algo como una escena de celos y posesión, pero esta vez por parte de Reader donde una mujer intenta coquetearle a su hombre y todo se pone MUY INTENSO *menea las cejas y se frota las manos*

Si no es mucho pedir, me encantaría algo de smut. Pleaseeee 🥹❤️🙏🏻

rough english translation: Hello! Sorry the message is in Spanish but I don't know how to express myself in English without it sounding like a level 1 language course 🤡. I'm here to tell you that, I absolutely love your AU!Mafia and it has been one of the gems I have found here. ✨ *climbs the walls and kicks on the bed* Could you give us more of John Price x Reader? Something like a scene of jealousy and possession, but this time by Reader where a woman tries to flirt with her man and everything gets VERY INTENSE *wiggles eyebrows and rubs hands* If it's not too much to ask, I'd love some smut. Pleaseeee ❤️🙏🏻

sorry this took so long to get out! i once again went overboard. also, never apologize for language barriers!!! and sorry this turned out to be mostly smut... i still hope you enjoy!

mafia!141 masterlist

warnings: jealous wife!reader, fem!reader, alcohol and slight intoxication, porn with little plot, some more possessive sex, oral f!recieving, fingering, p in v sex, creampie, kitchen sex, i think that's about it? 2.8k word count because i'm a freak.

It started with dinner. High profile leaders from several crime syndicates, including your husband John Price, would periodically take turns hosting lavish meals for one another in the name of good business. People would invite their partners and members of the mafia family to these events to mingle and on occasion settle disputes. Of course your husband brought you along, as he would never pass up an opportunity to show you off. The two of you were dressed to the nines in a sharp suit and a beautiful silky dress. Delicious food and appetizers had your stomachs full in no time, and a bubbling heat fizzed along your skin from all the wine you had consumed that night. 

Everything went well until suddenly it didn’t. Some pretty thing in a short dress kept batting her eyelashes at John every chance she got. Which was fine. It was only natural for people to window shop. But then her fingers would graze his arm, and her laughter would ring too sweetly at any comment he made. Her voice was saccharine and she was young, much younger than you, and your blood boiled with every sickly sweet comment, laugh, and glance she threw your husband's way. 

The ride home was bitterly silent save for the dull rumble of the car's engine and whatever radio station John had droning through the speakers. A hazy drunkenness clouded your thoughts and an all consuming frustration and sour jealousy filled the area in your stomach that the alcohol couldn’t. Whatever conversation John attempted to start was quickly shut down by you with short answers or cutting silence, something that had him heavily sighing as he pulled into the driveway of your home. 

It wasn’t until the two of you made it through the entrance that John really attempted to figure out what was wrong. You stormed through the kitchen in search of something to drink when he wrapped a hand around your waist.  It took everything in you not to swat him away. 

“Everythin’ alright, Darling?” he asked.

You hated how he looked at you with such concern and adoration. There was just something so frustrating about the dark blue of his eyes and the warmth of his body against yours. Maybe you were just angry with his blatant ignorance of the situation.

“I’m fine,” you replied sharply. 

By some miracle you were able to slip out of John’s grasp, but it wasn’t long before his hands were on you again. Redirecting you like some wild dog, he moved you so that your lower back was pressed against the island counter and you tried your best to avoid his gaze despite the fact he stood right in front of you with his hands resting at your hips, trapping you. The scent of his cologne was almost more intoxicating than the wine in your system, and you felt your teeth dig into your cheek in an attempt to keep yourself grounded. 

“You’re not,” he countered with slight humor in his tone. “I’m not lettin’ you go to bed angry at me.” 

“Who said I was angry at you?” you retorted. 

“If you were angry about anythin’ else you’d be talking my ear off about it by now.” 

It shouldn’t have surprised you that he was able to read you that well. The two of you had been married for a few years, and known each other longer, after all. Still, he wasn’t able to read you well enough to figure out what had bothered you to begin with. So you tilted your head as you stared up at him, and though you crossed your arms in an attempt to get some space from him, he didn’t budge much from his position. 

“That girl at Shepherd’s dinner,” you said with a tight jaw. 

“What girl?” he asked. 

His question was so blatantly ignorant you nearly laughed. Instead, you rolled your eyes and let out a strong huff before turning your searing gaze back to him. “What girl… the one who was practically throwing herself at you! There’s no way you could tell me you didn’t notice her.” 

There was a slight pause after your explanation, and it made you realize that he truly didn’t know what you were talking about. All you received from him were tense eyebrows and twitching lips. It was difficult to tell if that made you feel better or worse about the situation, but you still weren’t exactly thrilled with your husband at that moment. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” you grumbled. 

“I’m sorry, love, I really didn’t notice,” he said. His thumbs began to gently caress your hips through the silky fabric of your dress, and you tried to ignore the tingling sensation he caused by shifting your crossed arms. 

“Seriously?” you retorted. “Oh, Mr. Price, you’re so funny! All while she’s trying to rip your arm off she’s hanging off of it so bad.” 

“I didn’t notice,” he said again, voice dropping low as he leaned closer. “Why would I notice her when I’m too busy looking at you?” 

Something pulled in you at that comment, and you swallowed down the dry aftertaste of wine that lingered in your mouth. John’s lips parted slightly as he leaned forward, and though the jealousy in you told you to tell him no, you stayed still as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Been lookin’ at you the whole night; couldn’t wait until we got home,” he mumbled into the crown of your head. His hands began to wander while he spoke, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips and then your thighs. “You know you’re all mine, right? You’re all mine and I’m all yours. Do you need me to remind you?” 

As John spoke, you realized he slowly got lower and lower until his knees were on the kitchen floor. Kneeling in front of you, his hands rubbed at your ankles as they dived underneath the skirt of your dress. He began to bunch the fabric up as his hands slid along your legs, exposing your skin inch by inch. It was a miracle steam didn’t pour from your body due to how warm you felt, and you found yourself gripping the edge of the island counter as the lacy fabric of your panties became exposed. 

“What are you doing?” you asked as you tried to keep the tension in your voice at bay. 

“Reminding you who I belong to.” 

A squeak nearly escaped your throat as John slipped his arm underneath one of your legs and tossed it over his shoulder. If it wasn’t for the counter at your lower back, you certainly would have fallen, but he held you firmly in place as his fingers pulled the fabric of your panties aside, exposing your heat to him. He groaned at the sight of you as he pushed the skirt of your dress further up, displaying the soft skin of your lower stomach. 

“John,” you breathed. Your grip on the counter became more firm as he planted a chaste kiss against your cunt. 

“That’s right,” he said, cooing against your slick skin, “only you get to say my name like that, darling.” 

He didn’t waste anymore time before his tongue began to lap at you, and he was so wet and molten hot against you, you weren’t sure how you still stood. Unforgiving, his mouth latched onto your clit and he held you in place while his tongue ravaged you, drawing breathless moans from your mouth. It was such strong and sudden stimulation that your legs began to tremble in his grasp, but John refused to let you fall. 

Just as the pressure on your clit seemed to be overwhelming, his tongue slipped closer to your center before diving into your heat. Groaning at the taste of you, he shallowly fucked you with his tongue for a few thrusts before sliding back to those fizzling nerves. Eventually your hips began to rock in time with the way his tongue moved against you and one of your hands tangled in his hair for better leverage. 

Despite the pressure and the friction, it still wasn’t enough. There was this terrible ache that left your cunt fluttering around nothing, begging to be filled. Biting into your bottom lip, you gently tugged on John’s hair in an attempt to get him to look up at you. 

“John I- fuck, I need more,” you said in a near whimper. 

His mouth moved off of your clit with a wet smack, and he stared up at you with heavy lidded and drunken eyes. A glistening sheen coated his lips and wetted the hair of his beard, and though his mouth wasn’t pleasuring you, his fingers took its place. At first he started with gentle little circles around your clit before grazing along your slit until he reached the depth of your heat. He slowly pressed two fingers into your pussy, but only reached the second knuckle before he paused. 

“Tell me what you want,” he urged while he curled his fingers inside of you. “Say it. Anything; I’ll give it to you.” 

His fingers moved with practiced accuracy as they rubbed against that cushiony spot that had your heel digging into his back. In a way, it felt a little cruel, as if he was trying to steal your words away from you on purpose. Instead, your grip on his hair only grew more firm as your hips began to squirm in his grasp. 

“Fuck me. Properly,” you said, your tone somewhere between an order and a plea. 

For the first time that night, a proper smirk formed on John’s lips. As he rose to his feet, he knocked your leg off of his shoulder and his fingers buried deeper into your cunt which had your hands pulling at his dress shirt. He continued to pump his fingers in you as his still moist lips brushed against yours.

“Here?” he asked. 

“I don’t care,” you whined, nails nearly tearing through his shirt. 

The sudden absence of his fingers left your mind reeling, but you were finally able to catch your breath after such a long period of pleasurable torture. His hands gripped your hips and quickly spun you around so that you were faced away from him. Bracing your hands against the counter, you yelped slightly as John pushed you forward, forcing you to bend at the waist until your chest pressed against the cool granite. 

“John!” you exclaimed as he began to hike the skirt of your dress up once more. 

“You told me to fuck you properly,” he said as he yanked your panties down. They fell over the curve of your ass and the swell of your thighs until they laid in a wet mess at your ankles. “I don’t plan to disappoint, love.” 

Remaining bent over the counter, you listened to the familiar metallic clink of John’s belt coming undone, quickly followed by the unzipping of his pants. It wasn’t long before the head of his cock tapped against your ass which sent your cunt clenching around nothing. 

“I’m all yours, darling. Only yours. Tell me you understand,” he said, voice low and deep in his throat. 

Just as you opened your mouth to answer him, you felt him prod at your entrance, greedily rubbing along your slit in an attempt to drench himself in your arousal. Swallowing, you shifted on your feet slightly. 

“You’re mine,” you spoke, body tensing from anticipation. 

“That’s fuckin’ right.” 

Without further warning, John slid into you, filling you to the very brim with a single thrust. Your hands clenched into fists, and with no bed sheets to grab, you hit the counter in front of you as your forehead came into contact with the cool surface. He gave you very little time to adjust before he pumped in and out of you, hips slapping against your ass with obscene sounds. Your strained moans only added to the symphony; beautiful legato mewls as you attempted to grab onto anything that you could while John punctuated each thrust with sharp, staccato grunts. 

Already sensitive from his tongue and his fingers, taking his cock so full and suddenly nearly sent you over the edge. A blistering heat prickled across your body, causing sweat to bead along your skin as if the universe attempted to adorn you with rhinestones. John’s hands turned into fists as he gripped the skirt of your dress, keeping it out of his way and using it as leverage to pound into you with little remorse. 

“Jealous thing, aren’t you?” he said through a strained grunt. “Thinkin’ I’ve got eyes for anyone other than you? No, quite the opposite, isn’t it? Why would I ever dream of that silly girl at the dinner party when I’ve got my pretty wife bent over the kitchen counter for me, hm?” 

You tried to come up with a response, but each thrust tore the breath out of your chest. He continually hit so deep, stretched and molded you to his form, that it was impossible to focus on anything else. Judging by the way he continued his rambling, he didn’t seem to mind your strained moans being your only answer to him. 

“No, darling, I’m all yours, always will be. C’mon, say it. Wanna hear it from that sweet mouth of yours,” he prompted. 

It was like he had hard reset your brain. Every time you tried to open your mouth to answer him, nothing but a squeak came out. John’s hand snaked around the front of your hips, and while he continued to thrust his fingers lazily played with your clit. Not enough to get you off, but certainly enough to grab your attention. 

“Say it, love. I can feel how close you are. Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” 

He was close too, you could tell by the guttural strain in his voice alone. Pressing your forehead harder into the countertop, you squeezed your eyes shut as you finally willed your voice to cooperate. 

“You’re mine! All fucking mine, please John, need it so bad,” you babbled half-coherently. 

No longer teasing you, the pressure of John’s fingers on your clit was purely intentional. Swirling, twisting, searing; your orgasm sucked all the air from your lungs until you were reduced to nothing but a writhing mess on the countertop below him. His torso collapsed onto you at the sensation of your cunt attempting to milk him dry, and his teeth nipped at the tip of your ear as he clumsily chased his own high. Once the pressure of overstimulation had built so high that it was almost uncomfortable, John suddenly stilled inside of you, pressing himself up against the stiff curve of your cervix as his cock pulsed inside of you. His grunts softened to heavy panting as he kept himself there, torso pinning you to the counter as he pressed wet and messy kisses to the side of your head. 

The two of you stayed like that for quite some time, but eventually your hips began to ache, and your lungs burned from the added pressure of your husband attempting to crush you with his affection. John slid out of you with a heavy sigh before he assisted you in standing up straight where he let the skirt of your dress flow naturally around your legs before he pulled your back into his chest once more. Content, you leaned your head against him as you tried to ignore the shaking in your knees. But John refused to let you stumble or fall as he kept his arms wrapped securely around your middle while continuing to press kiss after kiss to the side of your head. 

“I love you,” he murmured. “There’s no one I want in this world besides you. I’m sorry about tonight. I’ll pay better attention next time.” 

Still trying to catch your breath, you reached a hand up over your head until you caught the back of John’s neck in your palm. A fine layer of sweat had built up there. You couldn’t imagine how warm he must have felt in his suit. 

“I suppose I can forgive you,” you teased. 

The two of you stayed like that for some time, mumbling sweet nothings to one another, until the exhaustion from the night's events settled deep into your bones. The shower you took together after that washed away any lingering frustration, and the bed seemed twice as warm that night as you were wrapped in his arms. As sleep began to pull at your eyes, all your brain could think about was him, your husband, John Price, and how he was all yours and no one else’s. 

sorry the ending is trash i didn't know how to wrap it up ):

[richonnesbitch]

Oooh ok now we know your fav TOWL kiss(es) so the logical next question is what is/are you favorite TWD kiss(es) ???

And between your fav TOWL and fav TWD kiss… which one wins 😈

Just wanna start this off by saying I'm sorry I took so long to get to this! I've been busy lately but I wanted to give this question the time it deserved because I could really go on and on about every richonne kiss. But I am going to limit myself to my top 3. I would do more but currently I'm not in the hest headspace so its hard for me to think! This is in no particular order because it's hard as hell to pick favorites! Anywayyyy let's get started.

1. Have Your Mints

Okay so before richonne I wasn't really one of those people that shipped couples, okay? Of course I loved the chemistry between richonne but I wasn't as hardcore about it as I am now. I remember where I was when this moment happened. When I say it changed my life, it changed my entire DAMN life. Like, I was shell-shocked in the most amazing way possible. Never have I felt such euphoria in my life than I did when Rick and Michonne finally happened! I immediately became a VERY hard-core shipper. I would literally rewatch this kiss on repeat for HOURS for MONTHS straight. Obsessed was not even the word. Like it was straight up addiction the way I would watch it. Naturally it would have to be my favorite kiss! It's just so beautiful and romantic and sensual and tender, etc, etc, etc. I've never seen anything else like it. To quote Scott Gimple, "These are two people who have found kindred spirits in each other, strength, respect, support, loyalty. But the world has been screaming in their faces and clawing at them for a good part of their acquaintance. For all they’ve been through, when the world stopped screaming and clawing for them, they realized what they had." Wooooo! What a gorgeous quote. Basically, this kiss invented romance for me and changed the entire course of my life. I had to give it the #1 spot, I had to. I had to!!!

2. The Triple Kiss

This kiss is just too damn cute. If I'm not mistaken, it's the only casual kiss we ever get between richonne. Most of the time they're making out lmao! But it just goes to show how life has slowed down a lot for them and now they're fully able to enjoy their time together and they can take time with their kisses. It's so domestic. Also find it cute how Rick knows Michonne likes too work hard but kinda softly tells her to take it easy for the night because he wants to cuddle her to sleep. This whole scene is too good.

3. Hearts Still Beating

Well, this kiss was almost too dark to see but from what I did see it was sexy as fuck! And also very loving at the same time. Richonne is so good at that. I love love love LOVE Michonne's speech. She has such a way with words, her thinking about becoming a writer at one point in her life makes SO much sense. The way she talks about how she doesn't wanna do things her way. she wants to do it her AND Rick's way. She doesn't wanna do anything without her man by her side. The way she not only convines Rick to fight the saviors but also uplifts him in the process.... she is so one of a kind. And the way Rick listens intensely and values each and every word. This scene is also extra sweet because not only does it drive the narrative forward but it's also a makeup scene for Rick and Michonne who have been at odds! Whenever she starts crying and he cups her face and kisses her.... ughhhh you can just FEEL the yearning they've been experiencing over each other. They missed each other so bad and it feels so good for both of them to be back on the same page. This isn't an actual picture of the kiss but a still from the same scene. WHY IS THE STILL BRIGHTER THAN THE SCENE IN THE EPISODE!?!?! Lowkey I feel like someone on set was trying to sabotage them.

Now.... how do these compare to TOWL kisses? Well, this is kind of like asking a parent to pick their favorite child. How can I choose when they're all so perfect?!?!?!?! But seriously if you really want me to choose.....I have to go with the "have your mints" scene. I'm sorry! I just do. I mean... it's where we all started. It's what turned me into a shipper and kicked off the greatest love story of all time. Did I mention it was all done in one take and Danai and Andy essentially took their own direction for the scene? Meaning everything they did was unscripted and yet it still came off as the most natural thing in the world.... how can it not win?!?!

[archivalofsins]

I'm reading Oshi No Ko again and-

Milgram Actor Short Timelines

Those Lines

Mikoto: ...

Futa & Mu: ...

Mu: *whispering* You ask him.

Futa: What no you ah you ask him.

Mu: You're my senior show some backbone.

Futa: Ah Haruka you do it!

Haruka: Eh-ah what?!

Futa: You've worked together on projects with him before.

Haruka: Ah- uh yeah but ask what?

Futa: Like how he got all those good lines about reality TV and junk.

Mu: Yeah; exactly him and Yuno get all the good meta lines about the media.

Haruka: Ah...him ahn-and Yuno huh.

Futa: Wait, why'd you say it like that?

Haruka: ...

During production and rehearsal stages

Not Here Too

Yuno: Tch...

Mikoto: Oh.

Yuno: You made it on this too huh?

Mikoto: YunYun so nice to see you again we haven't worked on a production together in forever it seems. Ha, ha it feels like it was just yesterday I was giving you pointers.

Yuno: ... yeah, because it was. Did you forget or something?

Mikoto: Actually- Yeah, I think I did. Oh wait, didn't you trip on stage during that practice?

Yuno: *clutching her script* It was a stage fall and you know it.

Mikoto: So I was reading through everything, and I saw your part mentions media. And you know, I thought it'd be real funny if mine thought this was all a reality show. I mean, it'd be normal to think that about this sort of thing, right~

Yuno: Don't talk to me in your acting voice it's creepy.

Mikoto: Boo~

Trial 2

A Staged Attack

Amane: Kotoko um- Can I get your help with something?

Kotoko: Sure what's up?

Amane: Well I have to attack Es in this scene and I needed a few pointers on-

Kotoko: Alright come at me.

Amane: Wha-

Kotoko: Come at me the best way to learn is to do. So come on rush at me with those prop scissors right now.

Amane: I couldn't-

Kotoko: Kazui get over here.

Kazui: Eh, what's up Yuzuri-HAAAH

Kotoko: Aaaa-

Kazui: Gh-

Kotoko: And that's how'd you do it now you try.

Kazui: Ah they were a prop that's all a prop... hah- Yuzuriha you're as intense of an actor as ever I see.

Amane: I'm sorry, I'm sorry if I hadn't asked-

Kazui: Ha, ha it's fine. She's always been like this.

What's your secret?

Shidou: Kayano-kun?

Mikoto: Hm?

Shidou: You've been looking rather run ragged lately is everything alright.

Mikoto: Ah, oh yeah I'm fine see- *beaming smile*

Shidou: Oh!

Mikoto: I'm just getting into character for trial two standoffish and tired is what my character is so I'm trying my best to convey that. Sorry for worrying you.

Shidou: Ah- what's your secret if you don't mind me asking? I mean how are you able to give that energy so easily.

Mikoto: Simple I'm always tired you see!

Shidou: ...

Mikoto: *still beaming*

Shidou: Kayano-kun when's the last time you've had an off day?

Mikoto: Huh...I don't know.

The Wrong Atmosphere

Mahiru: Oh it's just the perfect day for this!

Es: To be accused of being a stalker?

Mahiru: I forgot why we were here!

Es: That happens when you bring tea and snacks to the table.

Mahiru: Ah well- it's only sound, so I thought it'd be fine.

Es: Pfft-

Jackalope: Mahiru-san this is serious.

Mahiru: Ah, sorry director.

Es: The weather is lovely though.

Jackalope: *whisper* do a small production if it's small you'll be able to keep focus on your vision. You'll be able to get everything just right nothing could go wrong. That's what they all said...

Futa and Amane: *chewing*

Jackalope: Watch or snack pick one.

Futa and Amane: Sorry.

Well, that's all I can write on this right now back to reading.

[ladysophiebeckett]

So, what do you think would have happened if Betty had indeed ended things with Armando? Outside of El Meson de San Diego, he tells her: We're through then, is that it? If she had said yes, would Armando have respected her choice? Would he try to convince her to give him another chance? Request a definite explanation as to why she had changed so much and ended things? Or maybe be would've accepted it? This is one possibility that he gave her, but I don't think he was prepared for the worst tbh it's also interesting that Betty didn't choose to end it right there and then because for her it was already over, right? I'm curious to know since when you think she buried the relationship.

It's also interesting that Armando didn't choose to end things at Mario's place. It just hit me while reading your comments that Betty intended on ending things that night at his apartment (she had also tried to end it before and urged Armando to mend his relationship with Marcela instead), I never saw it like that before, but now I'm seeing this scene on a different perspective. This was the perfect escape for Armando tbh he never would have known about her first time which only made him feel even worse, and their second night wouldn't have happened which had a huge impact on him. The fact that he never even looks at another woman after this night is actually insane, the hold it had on him? Their first night also meant a lot to him, but he continued to be a flirt and the way he behaved with Adriana Arboleda and treated Betty indicated he hadn't changed that much. After their second night, he only got kinda flirty with the models the day he hits Nicolás outside Inesita's house, but other than that it was obvious that he was crazy over Betty. He was also over the top flirty with Alejandra, but I always saw it as a move to make Betty jealous and show her that he wasn't indifferent to this beautiful woman and neither was she. When he rejected her advances afterwards, that was the definitive proof that he had changed for good.

As always, reading your comments is such a delight. Sorry for the long ask.

dont apologize for the long ask. you've given me a lot think about.

lets go fm the top--if betty had tried to break up with him at el meson, would he have accepted it? no. he would have demanded an explanation bc fm his end, in his mind, he hasn't done anything wrong. i dont think betty would be able to give him an explanation that doesn't give her away and we know she doesn't intend to tell him that she knows the truth. so even if she did try to end things, no he wouldn't have accepted it.

let's revisit what actually happens in canon--they have a huge fight outside the restaurant. he accuses her of having a thing with nicolas, which she does not take well. she throws in his face his treatment of her, how he didnt want to be seen with her and he says that that's not true. he tries to kiss her and she rejects him and then he calls her out on it-- 'me tento todo el tiempo alla en ese sitio si? a que la besara, a que la acariciara. y ahora no quiere que la bese? pero yo si quiero besarla. me muero, me muero por besarla'

--in his mind betty's sending mixed signals. and when she finally gives in to his kiss, to him its confirmation that she still wants to be with him. but her verbal rejection of him, he doesn't understand it. and he kind of refuses to look deeper bc the next day he's like 'i need to know if that kiss means that we're gonna continue on as we always have been'. even the card he writes doesn't quite acknowledge what really happened that night; he says it was a beautiful night because he got to kiss her again but doesn't understand why she left him. no acknowledgment about why they fought or how he treated her for the majority of the evening.

i think it's clear that something is definitely wrong but armando vehemently refuses to see the bigger picture.

I'm curious to know since when you think she buried the relationship

Not 'buried' but more like 'ended it and didn't tell him about it'.

Unfortunately, i have to talk about the letter.

Note: this is my interpretation of things from Betty's pov. Feel free to disagree.

The letter maims Betty but what really kills her is watching Armando read the letter. It's overhearing his conversation with Mario. It's Armando saying 'si, yo hago todo al pie de la letra. sabe que? usted es mi heroe'. We see her watching him read the letter, not acting shocked by it, we see her watch him rip it up as the instructions asked. We see her holding back sobs. That is what kills her.

From that moment on, I think Betty mentally breaks up with him. She doesn't let him take her home anymore, a boyfriend privilege he didn't know he had. She tires to reject him, doesn't want to kiss him. Doesn't want to go on dates with him. Why? Because he's not her boyfriend anymore. And leaves it up to him to figure it out.

When he says 'entonces terminamos?!'---she already did. The times she gives into kissing him, is Betty relapsing on a ex that will not get the hint that it's over. And Armando doesn't realize how over it's been until la junta directiva when he sees the letter in his folder. (side note, he says post junta directiva that he understands now why betty was acting the way she was acting and i just want to say, no he doesnt get it yet but that's another type of post)

re their second night:

betty gave him an out and he refused to take it. like many times before. the conversation they have at mario's place, when she points out all reasons why a relationship like theirs, out in the open, would never survive. all the things he himself has thought of, in regards to his own image, his class, his family. It pains him to see her talk about it, to hear her talk about herself in such a way. In addition to knowing that he made her feel like she didn't matter to him (the arboleda incident wasn't just a case of jealousy it was about betty feeling like she wasn't enough to keep him or his attention). he could have let her go that evening. he could let her end it. when she tries to leave, he panics (foreshadowing) and stops her. that is all armando. that is his free will. he can't let her go thinking she doesn't matter to him. she matters far too much to him now that it's too late for him to turn back.

armando and his ability to be faithful to betty vs marcela--i have an ask to respond to about that in more depth but the short answer--he wants to be faithful to betty bc her jealousy doesn't come from a place of possessiveness. it's comes from betty feeling inadequate. and he doesn't want to be a reason for her to feel less than. he wants her to know that he desires her, that he loves her (and only her). after the arboleda incident, he better understands her and wants to reciprocate how betty makes him feel. (like he is special to her, like he's the only man in her life that she loves).

I can't speak on the Alejandra scenes bc....I dont like to watch him with her. I can't give you my interpretation, whether i agree or disagree bc just watching Betty and everyone tell her about her makes me sad. I will have to refresh myself on that. but yes, his rejection of her is proof not only that he changed, but that the love he feels for Betty, despite her indifference and his time away fm Bogota, it's still there. And no other woman can sway him, even if given the opportunity to move on.

[himemiya-kun]

Secret Swan (Chapter 2)

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Chapter 2: The Truest Self

Summer

Characters:

• Tori Himemiya

• Makoto Yuuki

• Eichi Tenshouin

<A few days later>

Tori: Eichi-sama, I arrived on time for today's meeting.

Makoto: Good night~ Hey, why is Himemiya-kun here?!

Tori: Why am I here?! I should be asking you that! It's not easy for me to have time alone with Eichi-sama, and you disturbed me!

But it turns out that Producer is also here. I still welcome you to come~ er, I even brought “condolences” ♪

Makoto: Ahaha... sorry, Himemiya-kun.

Eichi: Alright, Tori. I called Yuuki-kun here, please come in.

Makoto: If Himemiya and Producer are staying here, does that mean it’s alright if they hear our conversation? Then I will start the report of the investigation.

According to the information I’ve collected, there are indeed some strange things behind this issue.

Tori: What what? Does it have something to do with me?

Makoto: Well, sort of.

Regarding this newly established clothing brand, the Tenshouin only had some superficial information, so they were a little concerned about the situation behind them. As the head of the “Intelligence Department”, I did my job and conducted an investigation.

As for why the Producer came here with me, it’s because she’s involved in the work of brand establishment and publicity, so the brand can be considered as her client.

Eichi: Ah, Producer, so you came here because the client's description of the work was vague. Did you come to apologise to me again on their behalf?

Haha, don't bother, I'm not bothered by it. I believe that with your participation, the work will be completed successfully.

But I will talk about this later. Let Yuuki continue with his explanation.

Makoto: Um, according to my research and the intelligence I got from Producer and the others, the brand only wanted to launch one set of clothing at the beginning.

But the designer who cooperated with the brand, Aoba-senpai, made two sets of alternative costumes under the same theme.

It was difficult for the brand to give up any of the sets, so they decided to change it at that moment, and they had to shoot two commercial short films.

Even though “White Swan” is the protagonist on the surface, and the main focus should be “W series”, they seem to want to promote the appearance of these two sets of clothing with equal importance.

So I sent an audition invitation to COS PRO... There should Saegusa to deal with this matter. I think he is going to participate in the audition of the “B Series”. That means there will be no conflict between us.

As for the protagonist of the “W series”, the brand side is very interested in Himemiya-kun. I think with Himemiya’s strength, he will be able to win the role easily, so don’t be nervous at all.

Tori: I-I'm not nervous!

Makoto: Haha, it's rare to see you shy.

Having said that... everything seems to be okay. The things I’ve mentioned have not been made public yet, since it’s not the time for official publicity. So there is no need for a public release.

However, when I checked the comments on the internet about the pre-concept publicity PV released by the brand, I found out that there seemed to be some strange rumours among the fans.

“STAR PRO and COS PRO are going to compete for the endorsement of the same outfit”

The degree of the discussion was unexpectedly high, and it was even trending on the internet for a while.

It’s clear that the actors in the advertisement have not been decided at all, and it’s not known whether someone purposely initiated it behind the scenes.

Eichi: So that’s what it is. Producer seems to not know about this matter, because there is no such thing in your publicity plan... right?

Haha, if we need some clarification, will you give a message to the brand? But firstly, let me thank you for your concern, our best producer of ES. I do have something to ask you.

If you look at it this way, maybe the people from COS PRO are doing something behind the scenes. After all, knowing Saegusa-kun, he has always liked to engage in these kinds of business operations.

For now, it seems that the rumours don’t have any negative impact on us, so there is no need to take any special measures.

Tori: But if there are such rumours, doesn't that mean I stand on behalf of STAR PRO?

And we decided to participate in the “B series” audition, which was proposed by me, so it’s very likely that we will have a head-to-head confrontation with COS PRO…

No, even if we have to compete, I will definitely win! Let the fans know who is the real protagonist!

Eichi: Haha, it's rare to see Tori with such fighting spirit. That’s very good, and I believe you can do it too.

Makoto: Eh, wait a minute, just now Himemiya said that you are going to audition for the “B Series”? This is the first time I'm hearing this!?

Eichi: That's right. I just mentioned it to Producer, but that's exactly what happened. Before this, I only expressed my wishes with her and to the brand.

However, what Tori said made me think of... a total of three people will be needed for advertising. Shall we participate?

Makoto: Eh? Why is Tenshouin-senpai looking at me like that...?

Eichi: Now that Yuuki-kun is well aware of this matter, how about following the fan's wishes and joining us to participate in the “B Series” audition together?

If the three of us participated in the “B Series” ad, it would completely belong to our STAR PRO, don’t you agree?

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[thesolotomyhan]

narcos: jealousy hc poison

a/n: yall im so sorry this took so long but its here and i hope its not bad pls love me:(( on another note i finished my finals so let’s hope my energy matches my free time now to get requests rolling out for you amores :) anyways lets get into it,, 

Tags: @fandomnerd16 @visintaes @sheeshgivemeabreak @artemiseamoon @fleurfatale89

let me know if you want to be tagged!

Warnings: NSFW! you know the drill + its longgg

alright, so i get a feeling this would happen in the beginnings of your relationship with poison

like when no one actually knew that you two were dating-

every one of the guys just kinda think youre his friend since they’ve never seen you before and they dont expect poison being someone to be in a relationship you feel???

but either way, i imagine this would happen in the club with all the sicarios because the v i b e sss im feeling are coming from here,,

and also the fact that his ass would come up with some shit like “she’s just a friend, nada mas”

especially once quica gives him that shit eating smile when he sees poison pull out a chair out for you,, holding your hand- just acting like this gentlemen all of a sudden,,

omg- you would probably give poison this subtle look like really?? a friend? but,, just him giving you this nod like just go with it please

and honestly i can see this going smoothly like no problem whatsoever, youre both having a good time ya know,,,

like at this point he has his arm slung around the back of your chair,, everyones laughing and living the night and just- comfortable that he has you by his side and getting along with everyone,,,

but here we fucking go-

i would bet money that quica would be that mf to sweep in next to poison as soon as you get up to go to the bathroom or get some more drinks or something,,

just- this smiling dumbass telling poison he’s going to dance with you once you come back,, just so he can provoke poison because i know he fucking would,,

like i can imagine quica was already trying to get a rise out of poison throughout the night by making sure to direct his fucking jokes to you,, make you laugh and talk with him more than poisons dry ass-

and just before poison can even shut that idea down, quica’s already over here saying something like “what? pense que ella era solo una amiga? i want to dance with your friend, acabo se ve que a ella le caigo mejor que vos”

and omg- the way poison would just glare as he watches quica get up and walk up to you before you reach the table

and you wanting to be social,, honestly dont think much about it,, like its just a quick innocent dance with poisons friend,, nothing could go wrong-

but yall i JUST KNOW once quica has you bien pegadito with him

his ass would be looking over your shoulder at poison, making sure to get his reaction everytime he pulls your body closer with his, or every time he leans in to your ear making you laugh at something he said-

and poison’s over here not paying a single attention to what sure shots telling him,, like his whole attention is on you and quica-

cursing under his breath as he watches the way youre dancing with quica instead of him

and the way youre letting him pull your body closer into his with his hand on the small of your back-

just,, bouncing his leg impatiently every time he sees you laugh and just his eyes becoming darker everytime he makes eyecontact with quicas smirking ass-

wOW just poison having this tense posture,, lips sealed so tight that his hand is itching to reach into his back pocket to pull his gun out,,

and its not until hes had enough once he catches quica’s hand getting too close to his liking near your ass

and like a switch was FLIPPED because all i can imagine is pissed off poison, abruptly getting up that it knocks his chair over,, his jaw clenched as he strides over to the two of you so quick,,,

and just ripping quica off of you, almost making him fall and poison is just heated as hes ready to knock the shit out of him at any second as he stands in between the two of you - “hijo de puta, que te pasa, no la toques aSI”

god,, the intense ass stare off between the both of them, the red lighting of the club and bumping of the music only stirring more emotions in poison wanting nothing more than to wipe quicas smug smile off his face-

but then just,, poison snatching your arm when he turns around, not about to make an even bigger scene already as he drags you out,,

he wont utter a single word to you throughout the car ride, b/c im just imagining him having this death grip on the steering wheel,,, scowl on his face not wanting to hear a single word from you either right now,,

ohh fuck,, ok and once you both get home you would just head straight to the bedroom because at this point you just think he needs a moment to himself,, get some space b/c the atmosphere is fucking t h i c k

bUT then him GraBbing the back of your neck before you walk away,, roughly pulling you back into him and kissing you, not giving you a minute to even think

his hands would be roaming your body,, pushing you back to the bedroom, as youre desperately moving to take his clothes off as he tears off yours, not caring if they ripped or not in the process,,

wow- him dropping you on the bed as he stands at the end,, watching as you come up to him on your knees, your hands coming to unbuckle his pants as you feel his hands grip your ass

and the innocent look your giving him only makes him harder than he already is even tho he wants so badly to be mad at you-

“perdoname papi, no quise hacerte enojar” omg

and then him just giving you these abrupt rough spanks that you know are going to leave marks as he pulls you closer into him,, moving to knead your ass,,, your faces almost touching-

and before you can say anything else,, hes already turning you around and pushing you down onto the bed with your ass up, massaging you to alleviate the pain-

WOW ok,, this is leading into doggy style where he would have you almost ripping the pillows under you as you feel his bruising grip continuously tighten on your hips while he thrusts into you from behind,

just- having you to the point where when he looks down,,, your wobbling knees are about to give out,, your cum dripping down your legs onto the sheets,, and your muffled screams of his name being drowned out by your face in the pillow,,

and him pulling your body up to his by your hair, never once slowing down his thrusts as he places one of his hands on top of yours encouraging you to lick your fingers and touch yourself for him,, beg for him to make you cum- im sorry

i wow, just him holding your body up when you almost collapse,, his movements not once stopping even when youve moved your hand away from your clit,, just getting you until your pleading moans turn incoherent,,  

-turning you around on your back,, and moving to hold both of your arms above your head,, driving his hips roughly into you again not giving you a second to breathe,, 

forcing your legs to stay open with his body when he feels you start to squeeze them around him because you want to so badly close your legs,,

god- his hand coming to grasp your neck,, moving one of your legs over his shoulder as he moves his other hand down to play with your throbbing clit-

“de quien eres, mamacita? tu crees que ese malparido te puede chingar asi?”

and dear god,, you cant even make his name sound coherent because your brain is solely focused on the snapping of his hips, his cock so deeply buried inside of you,, his fingers overdriving your stimulation and the feeling of his other hand increasingly adding pressure to your neck-

and the only thing coming out of your mouth is loud whimpers as you throw your head back,,, the feeling of his teeth sinking into your jaw has you feeling so many emotions as you dig your nails into his shoulders- 

just- him constantly reminding you that hes the only one able to make you feel like this,, making you stutter parts of his name out- i

making a mess out of you ok,, silencing you when you try to tell him you cant do another orgasm but telling you that you made him do this to you so you better take it to remind you that no eres de nadie mas,, 

holding your trembling legs open as he watches you still take him in by the way you let out moans of his name and the rise of your hips when he bottoms out- im not ok

wow just- by the time he’s done with you,, your whole body is jolting and covered in marks, your soreness starting to show,, and no words coming out of you as he ghosts his hand over you,,

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Drifters ch.4 (spicyhoney)

Summary:  Edge is still puzzling out this strange new world. His brother is not helping.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge didn’t know what time it was when he woke again. It had still been morning when they arrived and there was still artificial daylight creeping around the curtains. It could either be late afternoon or early tomorrow morning for all the help that his internal clock was giving him.

He ignored the internal clamor that was pleading for him to go back to sleep, forcing his gritty sockets open. Rest could only replenish his magic so much, what he really needed was food, another slice of charity begged from the Swap brothers to add to his ledger, at least until he could find something resembling a job here.

(What could he even do here, would the denizens of this world look at his LV and only see a murderer, certainly Stretch had at first sight and—)

But there would be time to begin that daunting task tomorrow. Right now, something else had his attention.

Stretch had been correct about, well, actually, several things and one of them was that he was incapable of sleeping through any nearby movement, especially when it was with him on the mattress.

A glance next to him on the bed revealed that the baby was also awake and this time there were no screams to be had. Instead, she was inspecting her own feet with great interest, lying back on the bed with her oversized t-shirt puddled around her as her little fingers clumsily clutched at her wriggling toes.

Edge leaned up on an elbow, propping his skull in one hand as he watched her. “I suppose we were all that flexible once. I doubt Red could reach his toes now if someone tied a bottle of mustard into his shoelaces.”

The baby burbled something that might have been an agreement and managed to maneuver her foot into her mouth on the first try, gnawing on her own toes with slobbery vigor. She was obviously a genius, he decided, figuring out how to chew on her feet all on her own, and at her age…whatever her age was. He couldn’t be sure, there hadn’t been time for any of the niceties or paperwork, and whether it was measured by hours or days hardly mattered when it came to such an unusual method of creation.

The door bursting open made him jump, halfway to summoning an attack before he recognized his own brother. Then he nearly summoned one anyway as Red stalked across the room, crawling unceremoniously across the mattress and Edge to reach for the baby.

“all right, ya been hogging her long enough,” Red announced.

“Hog-we were sleeping!” Edge sputtered. He curled around the baby, hiding her beneath him as Red struggled to crawl around him.

“yeah, ya both sawed enough logs to fill the woodbox fer now,” Red panted. “lemme have the little crotchfruit.”

Edge struggled to keep the baby away from his brother’s child-thieving hands. “You’ll need a new insult, you know as well as I do that she didn’t come from anyone’s crotch.”

“good thing, too, don’t even wanna think about how that’d work with the size of her noggin.”

The child didn’t seem to mind the moniker. She crowed happily as the two of them wrestled around her, the mattress groaning threateningly with their struggles.

“c’mon, give it up,” Red whined. “i gave up all my shit to come here, too. ‘sides, i saw her first.”

“And left her!” Edge bit back a yelp as Red jammed a hard knuckle into his floating rib, the pain blinding him long enough for Red to scramble around his defenses.

“can’t have a rescue without bringing in the cavalry.” Edge could only watch, resigned, as his brother nimbly scooped the baby up then crawled back across the mattress to make his escape, managing to knee Edge directly below the crotch with a casual sort of accidental that could only be deliberate. He grunted in pain, doubling over, as Red sauntered out of the room to the squealing delight of the baby.

Lovely, she found the pain of others to be amusing. That was all the proof necessary to show that she was indeed from Underfell.

Edge sighed and fell back on the mattress, contemplating what charity he might beg first. Food? Or a shower, his bones stank of smoke and burnt plastic. He should be able to trust Red to watch the child long enough for him to clean up, he’d managed to raise him, after all…

…on second thought, perhaps he should check on the two of them first.

By the time he dressed and made his way downstairs, Red and the baby were sitting on the floor in the middle of the room. The baby was propped up again by the pillows and Red was piling wooden blocks into haphazard towers for the baby to gleefully knock over.

Edge gave his sockets a hard rub and looked again, hardly daring to believe what he was seeing. This was not the brother he remembered from his childhood, although to be fair, even if they’d had any sort of toys, they couldn’t have risked making noise with them. A strange sort of ache rose in his soul and Edge firmly ignored it. Obviously, he was getting hungry, time to head into the kitchen to see what sort of food was available.

The scene in the kitchen was enough to stop him in his tracks again and he couldn’t help but wonder if this was some sort of hallucination, that perhaps they were still back at that lab and he’d failed, he was lying there as his life bled away, lost in a fantasy and—

The prick of his fingertips in his palms from his clenched fists was enough to convince him this was reality. Such as it was.

Stretch was standing at the stove, spatula in hand and the eye-searingly pink of his frilly apron offered dubious protection to his clothes. He flipped the pancake effortlessly, only sparing Edge a glance. “hey. you didn’t sleep very long.”

“I slept enough. Can I borrow something to wear?”

Stretch waved him off. “sure, sure, mi armario es tu armario. get cleaned up, dinner in about fifteen.” Despite the splatters of batter splotching his apron, the pancakes looked delicious in a way that had nothing to do with his burgeoning hunger.

Even with the promise of clean clothes that didn’t reek of char, Edge didn’t move, only watched as Stretch added the pancake to a pile that was already on the counter, buttering it lavishly and pouring out another round of batter into the pan. “I didn’t realize you cooked,” Edge said slowly.

“someone had to keep us from starving until blue decided to take over on kitchen duty,” Stretch shrugged. His smile was wry even as he expertly flipped the cake, “always tried to help him with it, but he can be pretty determined when he wants to be, insisted he needed to learn it on his own.”

And he’d obviously never pressed the point, despite however long he’d spent gnawing gamely at some of Blue’s more…imaginative…dinner creations, until Edge came to this world along with Papyrus and the three of them began to learn together. He liked to think that they were doing quite well, they hardly burned anything these days, but nothing they’d ever presented to their brothers had smelled quite as good as those pancakes did right now.

Edge gave himself a little shake and turned away. “I’ll go get cleaned up.”

After quick detour to the closet, Edge made his way to the shower with haste. He didn’t mean to linger, his magic was gnawing at him to wash quickly and get back downstairs, but the hot water was glorious, with no unexpected icy bursts or rattling groans from the pipes. He stood in the stream, letting it pour down on him in a steamy, numbing waterfall, a pounding echo in his skull that allowed no space for thinking whatsoever.

That was his excuse for what happened next.

“wet is a good look on you, edgelord.”

Whirling around to face the threat was automatic, but normally he was wearing boots with heavy slip-proof soles, not his bare bony feet against a wet mat. His feet went out from under him and he flailed for anything to hold him up, half-ripping down the curtain before the sudden tinge of blue magic seized his soul, holding on only long enough for him to get his feet back under him. He blinked water out of his sockets to see Stretch sheepishly standing by the tub, a towel in hand.

“whoops, sorry, thought you heard me come in,” Stretch said, wryly apologetic. “i don’t normally get the drop on you. literally.”

Normally, Edge wasn’t foolishly trying to avoid his own thoughts. He switched off the water, fruitlessly swiping at his face with his bare fingers.

“Hand me the towel,” Edge said brusquely, ignoring the embarrassed heat in his cheekbones as he snatched it away from Stretch, briskly drying himself off.

The temperature of his face only grew at the appreciative look that Stretch gave him, his eye lights wandering over Edge’s bones with enough weight that it was nearly a touch of its own.

“you know, red is watching the baby—” Stretch began, slyly. He yelped as Edge pushed roughly past him to the commode where the clothes he’d borrowed were sitting.

“You said dinner was ready,” Edge reminded him, dragging on the sweatpants he’d found in a pile of laundry that smelled reasonably fresh. A t-shirt followed and he’d resigned himself to whatever slogan was scrawled across it. His only defense was to not read it and he would simply have to base how awful the pun on it was on how hard his brother laughed when he saw it.

“hungry, huh.” Stretch slouched down, casually tucking his hands into his pockets, but there was nothing casual or sedate about the way he ran the tip of his tongue across his teeth, slow and invitingly. “me too, baby, i’m always ready to eat you ou—”

“Let’s get downstairs,” Edge interrupted, and his bright flush was no longer strictly from embarrassment. In spite of everything, the temptation to take Stretch up on that offer was absurdly strong. This was…he didn’t know how to handle this strange flirtation. This was not how their relationship was. They baited each other, antagonized with insults and banter, they didn’t do this, except it seemed that they did.

The urge to kiss him right now was nearly stronger than his ability to resist, to press his tongue between those blunt teeth and taste the sweetness of his mouth. He shouldn’t, he couldn’t, not right now, but…

Thoughtlessly, Edge reached out, watched Stretch’s sockets widen in confusion as he ran a careful fingertip down his cheekbone. The bone was not so sharp as his own, Stretch’s skull was set with delicate angles that left him far prettier than he had any right to be. His looks were probably the most appealing thing about him, and yet, here Stretch was, stepping directly into cooking and childcare, and putting that assumption to shame.

Softly, Edge said, with a sort of pleased jealousy, “You’re handling all this so well.”

A shadow crossed Stretch’s face, gone almost before it was seen. He reached up and took hold of Edge’s hand and gently drew it away from his face. “you think so, huh?” Stretch asked, with brittle politeness.

That gave Edge a pause. “I did until you said that.”

Stretch exhaled slowly. “okay, so, my fuckbuddy, who is also sort of an evil clone of me, just showed up at my house with his brother and kid science experiment, and they need food, lodging, and a lot of fucking help. sound about right to you?”

Brutally phrased, but nonetheless true. “I believe that’s the basic summary, yes.”

“yeah, well, not a lot of room to fit a panic attack in, now is there. give me time.”

Guilt rose in a heavy throb. He’d dragged Stretch into this without once considering what it might cost him, knowing that he wouldn’t refuse. He wouldn’t change his choice if he could, but Stretch certainly had the right to resent him for it.

“I’m sorry,” Edge began, haltingly, already considering the ways he might repay for what he was taking.

“noooo,” Stretch shook his head, “no, no, you stop right there, no. no apologies, none of that shit.” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “look, make you a deal. we are gonna be all up in each other’s faces for a while, so how about both of us get to bitch and moan to each other whenever the mood strikes, about anything at all, and the other person doesn’t apologize or snark or anything. they can either listen or add some of their own bitch to the batter. agreed?”

Edge could only nod. It was more than a reasonable bargain, he’d be a fool to refuse it.

“come on, then,” Stretch gave him a nudge with his elbow and reached for the doorknob. “let’s rescue the kid before red starts teaching her how to pickpocket.”

tbc

[oscars-wifeyyy]

The Innocent 16

It was the day of the baby shower and the Martinez family along with Elizabeth were helping with the decorations and party. However, once Ruby and his mom started arguing about the decorations Elizabeth got a call from Cesar so she picked it up and walked outside.

"Wassup, mano?" Elizabeth asked,

"Why am I on house arrest?" Cesar groaned.

"Because the Prophets are outside and you still have a target on your back and no protection from the Santos," Elizabeth sighed, "look, just hang tight for a little longer, alright?" Cesar reluctantly agreed and hung up the phone.

An hour passed until Cesar, Monse, and Jamal arrived at the Martinez household so they could talk about the RollerWorld money, but since Elizabeth wanted nothing to do with it, she decided to let them do their thing as she went over to Oscar's place. She walked up the steps and walked straight inside to see Oscar, Sad Eyes, Rico, and Lorca there with the money stacked, but she paid no mind as she laid across the laps of the four boys, her head on Oscar's lap.

"Puta, get the fuck off of me," Lorca pushed her legs off of his lap, "you don't even hang out with us no more,"

"Hey, stupid. I got school, homework, and work so you can bring your dumbass to either one of my jobs or text me since you got my number," Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "Rico and Sad Eyes text me and I hang out with them because they text and ask,"

Lorca scoffed, "really, manos. Y'all don't invite me to y'alls hangouts?"

Sad Eyes laughed, "because your stupid ass always says some type of fucking excuse so we stopped. Don't come over here crying over that shit,"

Oscar groaned, "why did I introduce you pendejos to her? What the fuck is this friendship you got goin' on with my girl?"

"Oye!" Rico raised his voice, "it ain't our faults that she loves us more than you,"

"Awww!" Elizabeth saw Oscar glare at his boys, "don't say that to my little Spooky," she jutted out her lip and sat on his lap, putting his head on her chest, "mi precioso es mi número uno por vida,"

Oscar grinned at her before flicking off the three laughing boys that sat next to them on the couch, "alright, I'mma spend time with my girl so take all this shit somewhere else, yeah?"

Lorca nodded and grabbed the bag filled with money, but Rico rolled his eyes before grabbing the bag from Lorca's grasp, "fool, we ain't lettin you hold the damn money with your stupid ass," the three boys started arguing as they left the household to go somewhere else.

Oscar made Elizabeth straddle him, "wassup, mamita. Thought you were helping out Mario and little man with the baby shower?"

"I was," Elizabeth paused, "but they didn't need my help so I left and came here to hang with you. Oh! I got us something, but it's back at my place so let's go on an adventure to my place!" Elizabeth got up from his lap and pulled him off the couch.

Oscar chuckled, but grabbed his flannel and walked out behind Elizabeth to his car. The two drove to her house with the music on blast until they got to her place to see her mother's car in the driveway. The two got out and went inside to see Leticia laid down across the couch fast asleep so Oscar went to the hardworking mom and carried her to her room so she could sleep in her bed. When he left her room a minute later Elizabeth was holding up a bottle of peel-off charcoal face mask and a couple face masks.

"We, my handsome lover, are gonna do some self-care and if my mom is not up maybe we can give each other some attention," Elizabeth winked at the older man.

"Oh, you know me so well, hermosa," Oscar chuckled, "you got some snacks and movies ready then?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, "when have I ever been around with no snacks in my hand? Of course I got snacks and the movies ready. We can even order some Postmates or take out too. Babe, we are going to have a blast,"

"ok, self care day then and since it is your birthday, anything you want to do I will do," Oscar laughed then winked at his girl who was blushing.

"Damn, you remembered? I didn't think you would to be honest. Alright, my love, it's 17th birthday vibes so sit down and let me put this on for you," Oscar sat down in front of Elizabeth, holding onto her legs, "alright the peel off mask is gonna be done in 10-15 minutes then we're gonna do the moisturizing mask after. Thank you, baby, for doing this with me,"

The two put on the peel off mask and watched Shameless on Netflix, letting the mask dry to peel it off. While they were waiting, there were a lot of laughs that caused Leticia to wake up and walk into Elizabeth's room only to see the two with animal themed face masks on their face looking at her like two deers in headlights. Leticia laughed, pulling out her phone and taking a picture of the couple shaking her head as she left, happy that her daughter had found happiness and let go of some of her responsibilities.

It was time for the baby shower so Leticia and Elizabeth were able to go over to Ruby's house as Oscar went back to his own to try and get the Santos to not trash his place. The mother and daughter duo walked into chaos around the house as bleeding kids were ushered into a room and Geny was way too drunk. Elizabeth walked up to Ruby, "yo, what is going on? There are bleeding kids, a drunk Geny, and Jamal and Cesar are in what looks like an argument," Ruby was about to speak, but Elizabeth stopped him, "never mind. I'm gonna go over to Cesar and Jamal then I am going to Monse,"

Elizabeth walked up to the two boys when she heard Cesar say, "I smashed Paula and I think Monse and I are back together," Jamal had a big outburst on health violations, but Elizabeth walked up to them, "it isn't your problem because, one, she ghosted, two, you gave her that ultimatum, and three, you were broken up or on a break, either way, you guys weren't talking to each other. Alright, now I'm going to Monse and see what she's doing," Elizabeth walked inside Mario's room to see the white girl and Monse talking on the bed, "oh, sorry, I will let you guys talk,"

Elizabeth walked around with a plate of food, but felt down because no one really remembered her birthday except for Oscar. She would have thought they would remember, but she let it go as she plastered a big smile on her face and took care of Geny who was at this point word vomiting.

"Oh, Eli! You know, I always thought you and Mario would be a great couple, you're smart, he's smart, great match," Geny giggled, "sure you were a freshman and he was a senior, but still. He was also in love with this skank, Angelica. Oh well, do you have any boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I do, Geny," Elizabeth chuckled, "You're not going to know who it is either,"

Geny groaned, "why not? I want to know to see if you and Mario can still have a shot to be together," Geny's eyes widened, "Oh! Maybe you can be with Ruby,"

Elizabeth gagged at the thought, "thanks, Geny, but my boyfriend is pretty great right now,"

Geny ran away to go into the bouncy house and Elizabeth saw Jamal there so she stayed inside since it was cold out and went to her mother, "hey, ma. This party is about to go into a disaster," Leticia laughed along her daughter.

It wasn't until Jamal and Geny came back inside that Elizabeth saw Jamal with a bleeding face and Geny apologizing after him. She stood up to help them out, but Ruby started yelling, "Ok! Party's over, everybody out!"

"Wait, wait, wait, what's happening?" Mario asked.

Monse ran out of the room, "Amber's having the baby!" Mario threw Jamal into Cesar's arms and into the room that Amber was in while Leticia ran inside with Geny.

"Who's Amber?" an Asian lady came up to Ruby.

"Do we get paid the whole night if we leave early?" Another white guy asked.

"Who are these people?" Monse looked at Ruby dumbfounded.

"Extras," Ruby muttered, making Elizabeth and Monse look at the people wide eyed, "What? She didn't gave any friends or family so I had to improvise. Fifty bucks plus some food isn't a bad gig," Ruby handed out the money.

"Where did you get that kind of money," Cesar asked.

"I know those bills," Jamal said, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Using against my twenty five percent. It's permitted in the bylaws," Ruby said.

"There are no bylaws!" Jamal whisper-yelled, flailing his arms.

"There are bylaws!"

"Give me this!" Jamal took a hold of the money as the whole gang did as well and Geny went back out to the living room, "The ambulance is on its way! The baby is coming now! Everyone needs to pray!"

When Geny went in the room again, Jamal started talking, "Guys, guys, it's the curse. Don't you see? This is all building to something. I found the money then Olivia died, and now we're back at the scene of the crime, money in hand which means-"

"Someone else is going to die," Monse said.

"The baby," Ruby zoned out, looking at the money.

"We have to get rid of it," Cesar stared down at the money in his hand.

"Technically, we just gave a bunch of cursed money to all of those extras," Jamal looked at the front door.

"They're actors. No one is going to miss them. Let's go!" Ruby said.

"Wait, we don't know how to get rid of a curse!" Elizabeth said, "curses have rules. We can't just throw it away," Abuelita walked past.

"Abuelita!" Jamal called, "The money is cursed! How do we destroy it?"

"Burn it! Burn the money," Abuelita went inside the room.

The crew went out to the backyard and grabbed the trashcan and the bag of money, "You've torn our neighborhood apart," money was thrown in, "you've ruined relationships," another group of money was thrown in, "and stolen our youth," the last bit of money was thrown in, "but it's over. Curse be gone!" Jamal lit the money on fire, but Abueltia came running out.

"Stop! Stop! Jamal! Don't burn the money!" Abuelita threw the money on the ground, "the money isn't the thing that doesn't belong in this house! The money is not cursed!"

Now everybody was back inside, eating the gender reveal cake and laughing, "oh, I'm gonna lie," Ruby said, "this cake is good,"

"It just should've been chocolate," Jamal shrugged while everyone laughed, Mario scoffed, "too soon, man!"

"Mario, I want you to now that if that beautiful baby was yours, I would've loved it, but woo! Thank God, you're not gonna be a daddy just yet,"

"You dodged a bullet," Elizabeth looked at Mario.

"We all did," Ruby said.

"That girl really didn't know. And that was a big ass bun, fully risen. Ok!" Jasmine said.

"The truth always comes out," Abuelita said.

[jaywritessmut]

Weiß Chapter I- Business & Pleasure

*Weiß- White in German

Florian Munteanu x black female reader (All my fics are with black women in mind!)

Warnings: mentions of death & drug use, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!)

Authors note: Sorry this took so long yall! I moved to a completely new state and that came with its own challenges and adjustments. Things have calmed down since but I’m about to start job hunting and house hunting which is exciting but also stressful AF! Pray for me! I apologize for any mistakes!

Word Count: 4.3K

Something about the smell of a hookah lounge drove her wild. The subtle sweetness in the air had always brought her peace, sometimes a bit of arousal. She found it much more tolerable than plain old cigarettes. But then again, cigarettes didn’t come in flavors like Blue Mist or Double Apple. She scanned the drink menu, impressed with the newer selections listed. Of course there were the outrageous names to contend with. Oil Spill? Typical Klaus she pondered. He’d always had an eye for the dramatic and it was one of the things she loved about him. How sad it was that she’d never hear one of his energetic, albeit coke fueled, rants again. She decided to pay homage to her eccentric companion and order one for old times sake. Her usual order of Jäger would have to wait.

The server took her order, fumbling over his pen as he scribbled it down. He was intimidated by her. She radiated authority and confidence. He had no idea who she was  but the level of service she was receiving let him know that she was definitely a VIP. Making a mistake could cost him his job.

He must be new. She smirked at the thought. How cute.

Most everyone here knew who she was. Her table had been closed off and ready for her with her usual selection. Sex on the beach with a deeper freezer hose. They even made sure to put it in a mango just how she liked it. As soon as she stepped her Manholo clad foot out of her pearl white BMW, she’d been escorted into the club. Tamir gave her a salacious grin while he watched her strut into the building. Yeah, he was still hoping for a piece of that. The line of impatient party goers stared on in envy as she was given preferential treatment. But she was the boss. And bosses waited for no one.

She thought about letting loose tonight. Lord knows she needed it. But tonight was all about business. She needed to think. And surprisingly she was able to do just that as the bass from the clubs stereos shook the room. They had a deal, she and Klaus. She provided the money and kept an eye on the financial and legal side of things while Klaus was the face. He managed the club events, payroll, employees, social media presence, you name it. He was good at being the center of attention while she worked behind the scenes. But he also handled the grittier parts of it all. He dealt with the foot soldiers, making sure they were moving product. And then with suppliers to make sure they weren’t getting screwed them over. Turf wars and partnerships were all handled by him. It was a messy arena that Klaus shielded her form. And it made sense.

She was a sheltered daughter of an American diplomat. Her experience growing up in Berlin was quite different from his. While he fought to escape the crime infested slum and shady gangs, she vacationed on glamorous yachts in Malta. As a kid, he’d learned about the proper price to charge for a kilo while she was taught French and art history. They came from two different worlds yet managed to build a successful enterprise together. And now with him gone, she had no idea what to do. Just why the fuck did he have to piss off the Russians?

From across the club, Florian studied her closely in amazement. Annalise Roper in the flesh. ‘Lise’ was what she went by with family and close friends. But to her secret associates, she was Snow, the cocaine queen of Deutschland. He was surprised to see her here tonight. He had had the pleasure of meeting her on only a few occasions but knew that it was rare for her to be at the club. And with the circumstances surrounding Klaus death, he would’ve thought she’d lay low and increase security. But her face was unknown in the underground circles. When rival gangs talked about taking out Snow they were expecting a blonde hair blue eyed type. Not the melanated beauty he was currently admiring. The whole thing was ingenious really.

He watched as she threw back a shot, the club lights reflecting off her deep mocha skin. Her all white ensemble gave her an ethereal appearance, as if she were floating above the crowd. The effect she had on him was evident from the noticeable bulge in his pants. Full luscious lips, sultry bedroom eyes, flawless skin. All of her features drove him wild. And that was just her face. The white midi dress she wore, clung to her curves sinfully almost like a second skin. He knew she worked out. A body like that had to be properly maintained and cared for. And he wanted to explore every inch of it.

Florian adjusted his pants before approaching her. She’d just finish placing another drink order, a Jäger with ginger beer. The already skittish server rushed from her table almost running straight into him. When he glared stoically at the poor kid, he took off faster than before, desperate to get away from the two of them. Her almond shaped eyes gazed at him curiously while she took a pull from the hose. She admired the way his clothes fit on his body. His tailored shirt accentuated his impressive biceps. and the first two buttons were undone, showcasing his signature gold chain. He had style, that was undeniable.

Florian fought the urge to look at her lips but they were too hard to resist. The image of them wrapped around the hose was enough to fuel his already wild imagination.

She let out the smoke she inhaled while maintaining eye contact

“Wusstest du nicht, dass es unhöflich ist zu starren?”

He couldn’t help the smirk that fell upon his lips. Sarcasm was her defense mechanism, but it only made him want her more.

“Ja. Ich bin nur überrascht dich hier zu sehen, Schnee”

Her eyes flashed in anger at his nickname for her. She hated the way it sounded in German. Schnee. It was nowhere near as sexy as Snow.

“Darf ich mich setzen?”

“Wirst du mich nerven?”

He took a seat next to her, ignoring her question. Asshole she thought to herself. But a very sexy asshole nonetheless. The jittery server returned with her drink and skittered off to help the next patron.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He leaned into her, pressing a muscular leg onto her. She’d always been in awe of his large frame, even daydreamed about being pinned underneath him while he did unspeakable things to her body. But she was his boss. And she didn’t fuck her employees.

“I don’t hate you. I’m irritated by you” she went to take a sip of her drink to take the edge off. Whichever bartender made it went heavy on the Jäger . She was grateful for it.

“Why? Because I turn you on?” She almost choked on her drink as he brought his mouth to her ear.

Composing herself, she turned to glare at him. But he remained unfazed by her anger.

“Who said you turn me on? And how do you even know what me being turned on looks like? You’ve never had me to know”

“We could change that tonight.”

She rolled her eyes in annoyance and turned away from him. He was a typical playboy, used to getting what he wanted with a few charming words. But she wasn’t falling for it.

"Don’t be like that. You know you want me”

“And what makes you say that?”

“Basic science. Your pupils dilate whenever I come around. And you think I don’t notice but you look me up and down while biting your lip. It’s really sexy by the way, makes me want to lean forward and nibble it myself”

She crossed her arms in indignation trying to prevent his words from having an affect on her. His eyes wandered low to admire the way her breasts were pushed together.

“You also clench your legs together when I speak to you. Just like you are right now. And if you let me, I can give you the friction you desperately need. All you have to do is say yes”

He softly strummed his finger against her thigh. The sensation made her dizzy and she struggled to compose herself. It had been a while. Her last relationship ended a year ago and the Tinder dates just weren’t cutting it anymore.

Florian leaned closer once more and brought his mouth to her ear.

“Want to bet on how many times I can make you come in one night?”

Her resolve weakened and she closed her eyes as she fought for control of her libido. This was not what she had in mind when she made her way to the club.

Fighting past her bodies screams for release, she sat up straight and scooted away from him.

“Flo, I’m here to think. I can’t be distracted. Not now”

He picked up on the solemn tone of her voice. Maybe he was coming in a little too strong. Her friend was just killed and now she was left with an illegal business that she felt ill equipped to run alone. His attempt at seducing her didn’t really help.

“He cared a lot about you, you know? And he respected the hell out of you”

She nodded as she took another pull from the hose, trying to fight back the tears that would undoubtedly come. Klaus truly was her friend. And because of some stupid deal that she didn’t even want him to take, he was dead. She’d never hear his infectious laugh or be on the receiving end of one of his bear hugs again. A chill ran through her as she blew out a plume of smoke.

“Snow, did you hear me?”

“What?”

“I said, let me take you home. This is the last place you need to be”

“I can’t. I need to be here”

“No you don’t. Elias has the club under control. We’ll figure out the rest ourselves, okay?”

Maybe now wasn’t the right time. She’d always prided herself on being rational and calculated. It was hard to be that way when so many emotions swirled through her heart and mind. Fear being the biggest one. What if this was all going to collapse? What if she was next?

She nodded, focusing on fighting back the unshed tears that blurred her vision. This was not how the night was supposed to go. But it was for the best. The business could wait. Right now she needed a distraction. She handed Florian her keys and let him guide her out the club, ignoring the curious stares that followed. Fuck them she thought. It was none of their business who she took home.

They rode in her car in silence. She was careful who she let drive her baby but she trusted Florian for some strange reason. Occasionally his eyes would wander over to her seat so that he could admire her toned legs. He imagined them wrapped around his waist while he drove into her. Or maybe over his shoulders while he pounded into her. Snow smirked to herself as she caught him staring in the mirror.

“Drei” she blurted out. He turned to her as best he could, a curious look on his face.

“You wanted to bet how many times you can make me come tonight. Die antwort ist drei”  

Surprise registered on his face as he took in what she was saying. She was giving him the green light, and he had no intention of passing up on the offer. Florian drove like a mad man, weaving through traffic with a fierce determination. The sounds of blaring car horns filled the air as he made his way to her apartment. When they finally pulled into the parking space outside, he turned the car off and turned to Snow. The tension in the air was thick and he fought to compose himself.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked

“Since when did you become such a gentleman?”

“I just don’t want you to regret this. If you say yes, I won’t hold back. If you say yes, then I’m going to make it my mission to explore every inch of your luscious body. Willst du das??”

With an unmistakable nod, she gave him the answer he wanted. She gazed into his hazel eyes, and found that his eyes were slowly flickering down to her plump lips. Florian leaned forward to kiss her, relishing in the feel of her soft lip against his. Her brought up a hand to tenderly stroke her cheek, causing her to gasp. He took the opportunity to slip in his tongue, gently coaxing her to deepen the kiss.

Something came over Snow as she unbuckled her seat belt and climbed over to straddle his lap. Without breaking the kiss, he leaned his seat back to give them more space. His hands lowered down to her ass which he held a tight grip on.

He broke the kiss, bringing his lips to the tender spot underneath her ear and began to place open mouth kisses there. The feeling made her head fuzzy with need and she felt her wetness drip from her center.

“Flo” she moaned, rocking her hips against his. She felt the substantial bulge in his jeans and it made her even more desperate for release. He chuckled against her skin before bringing his lips to hers and planting a hot open mouth kiss.

His hands moved strategically over her body, as if he was studying every spot that drew a response. He committed it to memory, trusting that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to taste her. He took both her hands in his and pinned them above her head and he continued to kiss her which she returned with fierce determination. The inside of his car began to fill with the sounds of her moans as he slid his hands up her right thigh.

His talented fingers began to glide between her legs. Much to his delight he discovered there were no panties to remove and his fingers found the source of the wetness sliding down her shapely mocha legs.

"Enjoying yourself are we?" he teased as he circled her clit. She moaned and shook, unable to formulate a response.

"Gut" he said as he slipped a finger inside and massaged her g-spot. She shuddered and felt himself hardened as her walls clenched his thick fingers.

He kissed her and continued to massage her inner walls while stroking her clit. The sensation of his mouth devouring her while stroking her most sensitive spot, caused heat to spread through her body. She knew her orgasm was close and she didn’t even care that they hadn’t even made it inside her apartment.

“Fuck, Flo, I’m-”

He pumped his fingers into her, stroking the soft spongy part of her with a wicked speed while coaxing her to her release. With added pressure on her clit, she detonated around him, her warm center tightening around him with a vice grip. He placed soft kisses on her neck, which she exposed to him as she threw her head back in ecstasy.

“That was one” she purred, coming down from her orgasm. She saw the flash of persistence in his eye and immediately knew she was in for a wild night. The gauntlet had been thrown down and he was more than ready to pick it up.

“Let’s get you in the house, jetzt” he growled before crushing his lips to hers.

They stumbled into the foyer of her apartment, a tangled mess of hands and lips. The ride up to her floor was nothing but him pushing her up against the elevator wall and teasing her already sensitive flesh. And right now, with them finally having privacy, she felt a mixture of excitement and fear.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he grunted, pulling his lips from hers.

“Upstairs, second room on the right”

With no effort, Florian picked her up and made his way up the steps. She began teasing him, suckling and nibbling on the soft flesh of his earlobe. His skin broke out in goosebumps making her smile with satisfaction. He made his way to her bedroom and crushed his lips onto hers, slamming the door behind him with his foot. They remained locked in a deep kiss, her legs wrapped around him, grinding on the front of his jeans. He tossed her onto the bed and she fell with a squeal of delight. After giggling and catching her breath she looked up at him.

He couldn't remember wanting anything so badly. He watched as she crawled on her hands and knees to the front of the bed and started to unbuckle his belt. Taking off his shirt, he measured the gorgeousness of her feminine curves as they lay before him. The gentle arch in her back, the slight hourglass form that widened into the luscious, full heart shape of her butt.

He needed to devour her; to put her in the ecstatic trance that drew him like a magnet to her in the first place. He needed to taste this irresistible creature.

She had succeeded in the arduous task of loosening his belt and had her little hand down the front of his boxers grasped gently around his thick member. He saw her eyes widen and her tongue trace across her lips in anticipation. He pushed his jeans to the ground so she could get an easier grip but when she went to take him in his mouth, he stopped her, took her hand off his member and kissed it.

"You first..."

Florian shoved Snow back onto the bed. She tumbled over with a giggle and a sigh as he crawled over the top of her. He teased her swollen clit with the tip of his shaft for a second and felt her shiver at the contact.

He began at her neck kissing slowly and biting gently, savoring her smell and every inch of her flavor. He made his way to her toned belly and grazed his lips over her navel, watching her toned tummy rise and fall as her breathing became more erratic. He positioned his shoulders under her thighs and gazed at her glistening pussy, laid open for him. Kissing the inside of her right thigh, then suckling the inside of her left, he reveled in her scent. It reminded him of citrus and honey.

With a long, flat tongue he tasted her.He groaned in appreciation at how sweet and juicy she tasted. Craving more, he  wrapped his arms around her legs and pulled her closer to his face, burying his mouth in her delicious folds. He could feel her wetness soaking his lips but it only made him more excited. His tongue danced around the sensitive flesh as he responded to her gasps and moans.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop” she begged.

His dick throbbed painfully, wanting in on the action. But this was for her. And he loved making her moan. It was such deep satisfaction to feel the power he had over her. She followed his lead, grinding her hips against the entirety of his mouth, using the friction to get closer and closer to her destination.

He flicked his tongue across her clit in a fluid motion and inserted two eager fingers into her slick center. Her moan rose into a pleasure-filled shriek, he heard her breath come in quicker and knew she was close to her release.

“Fuck!” she cried out, her walls tensing around his fingers as she released once more in a succulent explosion that left his mouth soaking to the bottom of his nose and his hand wet all the way to his wrist. His beard glistened with her juices and it drove him wild to be covered in her scent.

“That was two” he grunted, a sense of pride filling him. He had always been a competitive man and this was one game he was sure to win. She lay sprawled, unable to open her eyes, but with a contented smile on her lips as the waves of her body's aftershock shook her, gently bouncing her breasts. He knew she was more than ready for him.

He quickly stripped her of the rest of her clothing, the white midi dress discarded somewhere on her bedroom floor. He was surprised to discover that in addition to no panties, she’d forgone a bra as well.

“No underwear huh? Well aren’t we nasty” he taunted, as he stroked his dick along her already sensitive clit.

“Shut up and fuck me Florian” she growled, growing impatient. Two orgasms weren’t enough, she wanted more. She needed him to fill her.

He slid his body atop hers, looking deeply into her soulful brown eyes as he sank into her. Her nails dug into his skin as he pulled out before thrusting forward and bottoming out inside her.

He began long, slow, deep strokes wanting her to feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock. Her eyes were closed and she was moaning with every down stroke, perfectly in tune with his pace.

“So fucking wet” he gasped as her felt her soft folds took him in deeper and deeper. He had decided in that moment that this was his favorite place to be. He could spend the rest of his life between her thighs and die a happy man.

Her cheeks flushed as the walls of her pussy tightened around him. She knew he was big from the feel of his bulge in the car but she still gasped in surprise when he filled her up. The way he moved within her drove her wild and she was desperate for more. She hooked her leg around his waist, aching for him to be as close to him as she possibly could.

“Please baby, harder” she urged, wanting to feel him fully unleash on her.  Teasingly, he pulled all the way out until just the head was inside her and paused. She opened her eyes and looked at him pleadingly, biting her lower lip hard. He sank his cock back inside her and paused again, causing her to quiver.

“Fuck Flo, get to it!” she cried, causing something inside of him to snap. He picked up his pace, his hips thrusting in her with a feverish need. She was panting as he fucked her and leaned up to kiss him hungrily. His tongue entered her mouth even as his cock penetrated her, hitting that sweet spot. And with one sudden jerk of his hips, he felt her pussy grip him tightly before exploding all around him.

“Oh my fucking God!” she screamed as her entire body dissolved into the waves of pleasure flowing through her. Florian continued to move inside her, softly stroking her face and hair while whispering sweet words in her ear. She was completely shattered, but the hard cock pulsing inside of her told her that the night was far from over.

“And there’s three. Think you got one more for me baby?” he cooed. Her hooded gaze told him she was spent, but he was determined to win this bet. He knew he could push her past the brink of satisfaction one last time.

He pulled out of her and effortlessly flipped her over, leaving her chest pressed into the mattress. He then led her to the edge of the bed, pullingg her lower body up onto her knees. Standing behind her, Florian pushed her head down to the mattress and rubbed the head of my cock against her dripping wet slit.

With a quick thrust forward, he buried his cock inside her roughly, grabbing onto her hips for leverage.

“Fuck!” they both cried out simultaneously.

Snow arched her back, throwing her head back in ecstasy. He grabbed a handful of her hair and used it to pull her back against him as he slammed his cock into her hard and fast. She moaned wantonly, and he felt the familiar tremor of her walls.

“Are you going to come for me again baby?” he cooed into her ear.

She could barely respond but her body answered for him.

“Hold it liebling” he urged, as he pounded into her fiercely.

Her body shook with every thrust of his hips and she wondered just how she would fend off this impending orgasm. As if it wasn’t hard enough, he wrapped both hands around her neck and began fucking her harder.

Her body had no choice but to surrender to his brutal assault and she wailed into the mattress as she fought to stop herself from coming. His thick cock was buried deep inside of her, relentlessly filling her up and staking its claim over her. And just when she thought she couldn’t hold it any longer, he granted her release.

“Fuck, Snow, come! Come all over this dick!” he growled before emptying inside of her, coating her walls with thick ribbons of his cum. Her last orgasm ripped through her, leaving her a screaming mess underneath him. She had never been more thankful for her penthouse apartment that separated her from the rest of her neighbors.

Florian gently pulled out of her before laying next to her. They laid next to each other, both trying to calm their breathing and make sense of what had just transpired between them.

“So I guess I won the bet” he remarked smugly, while taking in her appearance. Her hair stuck to her forehead, dampened by the thin sheen of sweat that had broken out across her body.

“Shut up” she ragged, still struggling to catch her breath. He couldn’t help the chuckle that broke from his lips and pretty soon, they were both laughing hysterically, their arms and legs tangled together.

“What’s my prize. For exceeding your expectations?”

“The nut you got was enough of a prize” she retorted, her head now gently laid on his toned chest. She lazily drew circles around his pecs, relishing in the feel of his warm skin.

“Fair enough”

“But we do have a more serious issue on our hands now,” she continued. The problems she had at the club were still there and a few orgasms wouldn’t be enough to rid her of them. Florian looked down at her expectantly, waiting for her to explain what she meant.

“I need you to walk me through the business. I want to take over.”

Translations:

Wusstest du nicht, dass es unhöflich ist zu starren?- Didn’t you know that it’s rude to stare?

Ja. Ich bin nur überrascht, dich hier zu sehen, Schnee - Yeah, I’m just surprised to see you here Snow.

Darf ich mich setzen?”- May I sit?

“Wirst du mich nerven?- Are you going to annoy me?

Drei/Die antwort ist drei- Three/ The answer is three

Willst du das?- Do you want this?

Gu- Good

Jetzt-Now

Liebling- Darling

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for this story! I hope you like it because I’m so excited to continue writing this!

[searchingforenadi]

writing a will is standard procedure

although it’s terribly misleading, the power of a name like ‘bloody bakery’ is too strong to ignore, so that’s exactly what we’re going to keep it as :O

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

a brief summary: Your customers won’t stop bleeding in your shop. You realize this might be a problem. (second person!OC, TYL).

xxvi.

You spend a few more days reevaluating your life choices. 

Perhaps, you think, hands clasped firmly in front of you, you’ve gotten a little greedy with your  new source of revenue. 

On the other hand, another voice in your head argues, it’s not like you could’ve refused them. Paying customers are the same wherever you go. What kind of business owner would you be if you turned away every customer wearing a fancy suit?

You stare into the empty space of your store, the quiet ticks of a clock ringing in your ears. 

The fallacy of mankind, you think solemnly, is wanting nice things. 

Is this how it always begins? You used to find it ridiculous whenever the media reported sensational news about a company’s descent into corruption. Now, however, it occurs to you that perhaps you’re the one facing that same downfall as well.

Should I write a will? You stare even more deeply at the tiled floor. 

The thought has never crossed your mind before. It’s something you had planned to do when you turn old and grey, but since it looks like your chances of meeting an early demise have skyrocketed in the past few months, maybe you should.

The entrance to your door swings open. 

“Welcome,” you say, already on autopilot. It won’t do to ignore any potential customers right when you’re on the precipice of cutting off your very dangerous, very generous regulars. “How can I - ”

Yamamoto waves a hand. By his side, Gokudera remains silent, his hands inside the pockets of his pants. 

“ - help you?” you finish smoothly. It’s only through a decade of customer service that you’re able to keep a polite smile on your face. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too,” Yamamoto says, eyes creasing with a smile. Gokudera, in the meantime, lets out a grunt. 

“The usual then?” you ask, keeping your eyes trained on their faces. You’ve spent too long pointedly avoiding Yamamoto’s sword to start staring now. 

Yamamoto’s smile doesn’t waver. “That would be great!” 

You get started on the coffee and, while the water is slowly boiling, you pull out your usual tiramisu cake. 

“So,” Yamamoto says, leaning casually on the counter by your register. “Anything interesting happened lately?”

Yes, you immediately want to blurt out. I saw your friends handling illegal weapons outside my shop. 

“Not really,” you say instead, the picture-perfect image of a clueless baker. “I’ll be shopping at a new place this weekend. Very exciting.”

“I’m sure it is,” Yamamoto says, and it sounds like he means it. You turn back around and pass him the usual box of cake. 

In your other hand is the usual cup of coffee and, right as you’re handing it off to Gokudera’s outreached hand, you quickly glance down. 

His legs, thankfully, are free of any knives. 

Gokudera snatches the cup from your hand. To the side, Yamamoto slaps a hand to his own mouth.

“You - ” Gokudera starts with a snarl, eyes flashing. 

“And that’s our cue to go,” Yamamoto cuts in, stopping a potential crime scene from occurring within your shop. He slaps down a wad of cash and wraps an arm around Gokudera’s neck.

“Let me go, you little - !”

“Keep the change,” Yamamoto says, eyes creasing and shoulders slightly shaking. They leave right after, as Gokudera sends you silent death threats while struggling to escape from Yamamoto’s grasp. 

You stare down at the pile of money on your counter. The fact that you’ve narrowly missed an early meeting with your late grandpa seems to pale in comparison to the stack of bills in front of you.

No, a voice that sounds awfully like your conscience whispers, you shouldn’t. Just take the right amount and return the rest! That way, the government has no proof when they knock on your door - 

You very delicately pick up the money and slide it into the register. 

“I’m human too,” you say out loud, to the utter silence in your shop. “We all have our flaws.”

The absence of any response should’ve been telling enough.

xxvii.

The next day, during the late morning, you fiddle through several documents. 

You have enough to finally buy that mixer and now, your days of suffering are over. No longer will you have to hand mix your dough whenever your rusty, old mixer gives up on you. No longer will you weep over its struggle to handle your heavier mixtures - 

The front door opens, sending a warm breeze through the shop. 

“Welcome!” you call out, closing your notebook shut. If everything goes as planned, you should be able to order it by the end of the weekend. “How can I help you?”

You stop. There, standing in all his teenage glory, stands Lambo - your well-paying regular and possible juvenile delinquent.

Lambo grins. “Hi!”

“Hi,” you say, for lack of better words. It doesn’t seem like an appropriate time to mention your eye-witness account of his crimes. “You’re here early today.”

You can’t remember ever seeing Lambo coming into the shop earlier than the afternoon. 

He shrugs, before plastering his face into your glass display. “School’s cancelled today.”

“School,” you repeat, somehow astounded by the news. It shouldn’t surprise you - Lambo is still a teenager and those types of people should still be in school. It certainly explains the fancy uniform he’s always wearing. 

“I didn’t know the local school here required uniforms,” you think aloud, pushing a finger against Lambo’s forehead to remove him from the display. It’s enough of a sanitary hazard that you’re willing to risk getting shot for it. 

Lambo laughs, a little too loudly for the quiet shop. He rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, I, uh, go to school somewhere else. Outside town.”

“Outside the town?” you blink slowly. So a private school? It fits the image you have, considering how much money Lambo throws your way. 

Lambo laughs even more, and it is the most awkward sound you’ve heard this week. You take this as a sign to leave the subject matter alone and instead say, “I have some candied fruits, if you’re interested.”

“Yes!” Lambo blurts out, his demeanor shifting immediately into something bright. “I want that.”

You wait for a moment.

“Please,” he adds belatedly, before sending you a winning smile. 

An answering smile finds its way onto your face and you move to pack a jar or two. You pull out your usual stash of dango and stick it into the take-out bag as well.

“Make sure you share some with Tsuna,” you tell him, taking his cash and trying not to scan his clothes for any suspicious lumps that would hide a weapon. 

Lambo makes a face. “But you gave him some last time!”

Your smile widens. “I’m not making you share if you don’t want to.”

He droops instantly. 

“Fine,” he says petulantly. “I’ll think about it, I guess.”

You lean onto your display, resting your head on a hand. “If you stop by next week, I might have some mochi for you to try, if you know what it is.”

Lambo perks up, so quickly you wonder if he’s ever gotten whiplash from his constantly changing emotions. “Mochi? Of course I do! I used to eat them all the time in Japan.”

You pause at this new information. “You used to live in Japan?”

“For a few years,” Lambo says, waving a hand flippantly in the air. “It was nice.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, unsure as to why this reveal bothers you so much. “Well, you’re welcome to try some if you’re here.”

Lambo gives you a strange look. “But I’m here almost every day.”

You sigh. “But you shouldn’t. Spend some time somewhere else, Lambo.”

Lambo slowly grins, in a way that tells you he hasn’t even bothered to consider your words, before waving a hand goodbye. 

You run a hand through your hair - sometimes, you wonder why you even bother.

xxviii.

That night, you set your alarm and settle into bed, closing your eyes firmly shut. Tomorrow morning, you will be getting that anko, one way or another. 

If the marketplace doesn’t have any, you already have an order form for azuki beans filled out and ready to go. At this point, price or time doesn’t matter - your desire for anko has transcended all logical thought and has become a primal need.

Just you wait, you think, turning over to one side and pulling your blankets up to your face. 

The next morning, your eyes shoot open the moment your alarm goes off. You slap a hand to your phone and sit straight up, blinking blearily into your dark bedroom.

It takes a short while to feel human again. A cup of coffee in hand and thirty minutes later, you stare out of your window, to the dusty, light blue sky. 

Outside, where the sun has yet to hit your apartment, you inhale deeply, feeling the cool, sharp air in your lungs. 

You’ve already mapped out the way to the new marketplace last night. After a few wrong turns and a five minute break to consider if you’ve perhaps lost all common sense, you eventually find a blocked off plaza full of different sized stalls.

The sun now resting on the back of your neck, you trudge through the plaza, shuffling past a crowd of people huddled around a fruit stall. Staring out into the bustling market, you decide it’s a travesty it’s taken you this long to find out about it. 

You continue wandering down the road, eyes peeled for any hint of your sought after anko. Tsuna had given a general area but it’s up to you to narrow down your search.

The sun rises higher as you awkwardly move around another small crowd of elderly women. Your crane your neck to squint at a particularly promising stall and - 

And promptly walk into a wall. 

Not a wall, you then think, hissing in pain as your hand flies to your smarting nose. Walls don’t feel like fabric and smell like smoke.

“Sorry,” you say, eyes blinking rapidly. “I wasn’t watching where I was going - ”

You pause. Through your watering eyes, your head slowly rises higher and, under a crown of silver hair, Gokudera scowls. 

What are the chances, you think distantly, absentmindedly rubbing your nose. This isn’t the first time you’ve come across a customer outside the shop, but you prefer keeping your business and private life separate. 

“Of course you weren’t,” Gokudera says, rolling his eyes. It might have been more intimidating if he had been wearing his suit, but for the very first time, he’s wearing more casual clothes - a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt. 

“Right,” you say, a smile almost making its way on your face. A local marketplace is the last place you would ever expect to see Gokudera, but there’s something about it - the bustle of people, the laughter of children, the scent of fruit and spices - that almost makes him seem approachable. “Nice to see you too.”

Gokudera scoffs, shoving his free hand into his pockets. He tightens his grip on several plastic bags, before turning around and walking away. 

You imagine this is the closest thing to a peaceful exit you’ll ever get from someone like Gokudera. 

WIth a shrug, you resume your search, scanning the stalls and making sure to keep an extra eye on the road in front of you. Strangely enough, Gokudera is still only a few paces ahead of you, with hunched shoulders and trudging feet. 

It doesn’t take long for a set of somewhat familiar characters to catch your eye. You squint immediately, feet stopping in place. 

Like paper clips to a magnet, you walk up to the stall - already, you recognize several snacks you used to horde back when you went shopping at the Japanese market with your mom in the States. 

Your lips curve up into a smile.

A commotion on the other side grabs your attention. There’s an older woman, face flushed red and a package in her hands, speaking loudly to the owner of the stall, an elderly Japanese woman with gray hair tied tightly into a bun. 

All too familiar with irate customers, you send a silent prayer of sympathy to the old lady and look back down. Those same snacks are now somehow in your hands. 

The power of nostalgia, you think, clutching the snacks closer to your chest, is a terrifying thing.

You turn around - and nearly drop everything when you come face-to-face with Gokudera once again.

He narrows his eyes.

“You again?” he mutters, a perplexed look on his face, as if he can’t decide if he should stab you or leave the subject matter alone.

You fix a smile on your face. Maybe you should’ve written that will after all.

But no, you’ve risked too much to leave now. After a second of deliberation, you decide that you’d rather get shanked than miss your chance at finding some anko.

“This is the new place I was hoping to check out,” you tell him, as a reminder that, despite his intimidating appearance, you’re the one providing the goods in this business relationship.

And, because you still value your life (despite your previous resolve), you add, “Tsuna recommended it to me.”

(You actually don’t have a single clue about the sort of relationship Gokudera and Tsuna might have, since you’ve never seen the two together.

But you’re hoping it won’t hurt to bring in some familiar names, just in case, to keep Gokudera accountable.)

Gokudera pauses, his eyebrows furrowing.

Then, with a click of his tongue, he runs a hand through his silver hair and says, “Yeah, whatever.”

You give Gokudera a wide amount of space and he walks around you, grumbling under his breath.

Disaster averted, you continue your (rather limited) shopping spree, walking around to the tune of a woman’s yells. 

A few minutes pass and suddenly, after finding yourself staring blankly at a series of foreign words, it finally hits you. 

You can’t read a single speck of Japanese beyond your own name.

The despair that follows nearly cripples you. It only lasts for several moments, thankfully, because your parents haven’t raised a fool.

You pull out your phone and look up the kanji for anko. Like a makeshift metal detector, you continue walking around, appraising anything that might look like red bean paste. 

The search goes on for a short while before it leaves you completely empty-handed. You let out a long sigh, shifting slightly to accommodate the number of snacks in your arms.

You drag your feet to the register, already calculating the days it’ll take to have azuki beans delivered to your doorstep.

If I pay more, I can get it next week, you think, folding your fingers to keep track of your numbers. It would’ve been a problem a few months ago, spending an exorbitant amount of money for azuki beans, but your strange and well-dressed regulars have solved it for you with their… generosity.

You check the time on your phone. The same woman from before is still at the register, and you’re a little impressed at how she’s gone for ten minutes without taking a single breath.

It’s bothersome enough that you consider dumping the snacks and leaving altogether. From the almost blank look on the stall owner’s face, you can only imagine this will continue for a while.

Except, by sheer coincidence, your eyes focus on the package in the woman’s hands. The kanji looks vaguely familiar, which is impossible, because you only know - 

You quickly pull out your phone and almost drop your snacks in your haste. 

“There’s no way,” you say to yourself, staring at the matching kanji on your phone. 

The stars aligning themselves to dangle anko in your face isn’t the most terrifying part. Rather, you can’t believe you’re actually considering, actually thinking about taking the anko, without knowing where it’s been, or where it came from - 

A rustle of noise grabs your attention, dragging you away from your horrifying, unsanitary thoughts. You look back and, surprise surprise, it’s Gokudera, lining up behind you. 

His lips twist into a scowl as he watches the one-sided argument. It’s a look so foul, you can almost see him planning a premeditated murder. 

Which, he wouldn’t do, of course, because this is a very open space, in a very public area. 

… Right?

He wouldn’t, you think, a little less confidently. 

An ominous creak fills the air when Gokudera digs his fingers deep into the plastic packages in his hands. 

You swiftly walk up to the register, because you’re not particularly eager to witness a crime on a Saturday morning. It’s the grandest act of community service you’ve done since high school and you hope it’ll be the last.

“Excuse me,” you say, plastering on your best customer service smile. “That anko - is there a problem with it?”

The woman stops her tirade to give you a dirty look.

“The problem is that I was tricked!” she snaps, gesturing to the packaged anko. From a glance, it doesn’t look opened. “I asked for regular beans and this old lady gave me this!”

“Regular beans,” you repeat, before slowly looking back at the anko. You’re sorely tempted to ask how red bean paste could ever be mistaken for actual beans, but you swallow the words down.

“That must have been confusing,” you say instead, keeping that smile on your face because you’re a professional. “How much did you pay for it?”

“Ten euros,” the woman says, crossing her arms. “And I’m not leaving until I get a full refund for it!”

You put your snacks down on the counter, pull out your wallet, and hand over the right amount. “Great! Consider it paid for.”

The woman stares at the bills in her hand. “What?”

“Your refund,” you say, taking the anko from her loosened grip. “You can leave now, right?”

It doesn’t take long before the woman leaves in a huff, face still flushed and a hand clutching the cash tight. 

You turn to the stall owner, who still doesn’t look particularly invested in the commotion before her. She studies you for a moment and slowly, a smile appears on her lips.

“---?” she asks you in Japanese, dark eyes gleaming. “--- is okay, but ---”

“Oh, uh, sorry,” you say, only able to catch a few words. Heat flares briefly on your cheeks. “I don’t really understand.”

(For the briefest of moments, you suddenly wish you had taken your mom’s efforts to teach you Japanese a little more seriously. If you had, would you even be in this situation right now?)

The elderly woman’s smile widens. 

“No problem,” she says, switching to Italian with a heavy accent. The creases around her eyes deepen as she points to the snacks on the counter. “You take this?”

“Uh, yes,” you say, a little startled at the topic change. The stall owner hums, ringing up your snacks and calling out something else in Japanese.

You’re left slightly bewildered when she waves a hand, until moments later, someone else joins your side.

With a slightly resigned expression, Gokudera sets down his own purchases, and answers back in Japanese. 

In completely fluent, native Japanese.

This, you think, blinking rapidly, shouldn’t bother you. Gokudera is clearly, at least, partially Japanese, and why wouldn’t someone like that know how to speak it?

(This time, however, you can’t stop the flash of envy that spikes through your chest.)

You shake away your thoughts when the stall owner passes back your snacks in a bag.

“Thank you,” you say, accepting the bag and adding your newly acquired anko inside as well. “How much should I…?”

The stall owner smiles warmly before saying something to Gokudera again.

Gokudera, in the meantime, lets out an aggravated sigh.

“She says don’t worry about it,” he tells you, looking as if he’d rather be doing anything else than translate an old woman’s words for a random baker. 

You look down at your snacks in surprise. “Wait, really?”

The stall owner says a few more words. 

“‘It’s payment for getting rid of that annoying fucker,’ is what she says,” Gokudera lazily adds.

There’s a moment of stunned silence.

You open your mouth, and close it again. 

“Is that,” you finally begin, after another pause. “Is that what she really said?”

Gokudera shrugs, which you find is a far worse response than a simple yes or no. 

You turn back to the old woman, who still has a serene smile on her face. Your head spinning, you say hesitantly, “Um, thank you then.”

Then, because you’re fairly certain you’ve somehow entered the twilight zone, you give a returning smile and slowly back away.

At this point, Gokudera’s purchases have also been bagged and, a little dazed,  you follow him back into the plaza. 

“Well, I’ll see you around then,” you say, a heartbeat too late, but really - who can blame you? “Thanks for translating.”

You’re not sure if you actually mean it, but you imagine Gokudera could’ve ditched at any point, so props to him for helping out the elderly.

“Yeah, whatever,” he says, his free hand once again stuffed into his pocket. It’s strange how harmless it makes him look for once. “Next time, figure it out by yourself.”

“I’ll do what I can,” you say, after coming to the conclusion that, despite the roller coaster of events, you’re more than willing to return if you can find more of this anko. “I’m used to language barriers.”

The both of you reach the plaza entrance and, with piercing green eyes, Gokudera looks at you like you’re the slowest person on the planet.

“That’s stupid,” he says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Why would you be used to it? Just learn the damn language.”

Something clenches in your chest.

“I,” you falter, the heat returning to your cheeks. “Do you think I haven’t thought about that?”

Gokudera snorts. “If you’ve thought about it, but haven’t tried it, does it actually count?”

It’s tempting to give into the acid that burns your throat. Gokudera doesn’t know anything about you and, frankly, it was a terrible idea to continue talking with someone who’s just a regular from your shop.

What’s even worse, you realize, is that he’s completely right.

(When have you ever really put in the effort to learn your mom’s home language? If it bothers you that much, why haven’t you tried picking it up again?)

Gokudera quickly runs a hand through his hair. 

“Look,” he finally says, after the silence stretches for a moment too long. “Forget I said anything.”

But he isn’t wrong. 

“No, that’s not it,” you quickly say, suddenly hit with the awareness that Gokudera, despite his abrasive personality, probably isn’t out to get you. “I… I get what you’re saying.”

If something bothers you, shouldn’t you at least try to go after it? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along with the anko in your hands?

You offer a weak smile. “I haven’t thought about it that way. So I’ll keep that in mind.”

Gokudera eyes you, lips twisting into that same perplexed expression from before.

“Right,” he says slowly. “You do that then.”

And without another word, Gokudera turns and walks away. You stare after his slouched shoulders for a brief moment, before glancing down at the bags in your hand.

Your smile falls and, with a heavy sigh, you rub the back of your neck.

As it turns out, it looks like you have some serious thinking to do.

-o-o-o-o-o-

what? you’re telling me that one of Gokudera’s weaknesses being old ladies isn’t canon? 

i actually had a lighter, more comedic plot point to end this chapter with, but it felt like that would diminish the importance of this final scene too much. heritage is something that matters more to some than others, but when you have different cultural backgrounds, it’s not easy to keep them all equal in your life - i hope this evolving struggle for our MC is clear to the people reading it!

there’s so much i want to say about my thoughts on this chapter, but to keep it short - this is the first time we see MC out of the shop and with it, a new set of experiences and facets of their personality. stepping out of their comfort zone (the shop) and being challenged through it - i imagine that Gokudera is the only one capable of doing it intentionally, at this time.

i know this started of as a ‘shitpost’ for giggles, but i do hope this brings some sort of enjoyment even when it digs deeper beyond the humor. it’s been exhausting to do many things lately, but i’m always grateful for how much love has been sent to this little, silly fic. please stay safe and healthy and aware out there!

[spine-buster]

the storm before the calm (f. andersen) | 4

A/N:  There are a few things to note about this chapter: one is that I’m sorry if the Spanish is off - I don’t speak Spanish, so I basically just plugged it into Google Translate.  Second, you’ll find the Chipi Chipi song on the fic’s playlist (link is on the Masterlist page).  This scene was more or less inspired by the scene where this song plays in the movie “The Motorcycle Diaries”.

Aleida listened to Fred.  Mostly.  

When they kissed and he told her “You have to start doing things that make you happy”, she took it to heart.  She didn’t know why.  She didn’t take what anybody said to heart – well, just a few people, but no-one else – so it was a wonder to her why she listened to Fred.

Maybe it was because part of that – part of doing things that made her happy – meant she got to kiss him now.

Aleida would never, ever declare a weakness.  She wouldn’t show a weak bone in her body to anyone or anything.  But she was weak.  For Fred.  For his eyes and for his ginger hair and for his soft voice and big body and broad shoulders and big hands and…everything.  She was weak for everything.  And in admitting she was weak, she knew she was becoming more vulnerable.  But she couldn’t stop herself.  She kept kissing him.  Almost every time she saw him now they were kissing, and he was touching, and when he touched her it felt like her body was on fire – in a good way.  It didn’t feel like how it did in the past.  It felt better.  Superior to every other feeling.  Yes – when Fred touched her, she didn’t think of anything else.  It was a miracle.

For his part, Fred liked kissy Aleida.  He liked her lips, and her smile, and how while kissing him he’d feel her smile, and it made the butterflies in his stomach flutter with content, as cheesy as it sounded, because with each kiss Aleida was becoming softer, more like the Aleida he knew she was, the Aleida he saw that night when her band was over and she has no front and no inhibitions.  He so desperately wanted to see more of that Aleida, and he would do whatever it took to see her that way – and to get her there permanently.

So when she told him “We’re going out.  We’re taking your car.  Get it ready”, he took it through a car wash asked how to dress but she told him “Don’t ask too many questions” so he shut his mouth and just…trusted her.  He pulled his aubergine Porsche to the curb to pick her up at her townhouse.  He parked it and went to her front door.  He thought himself a gentleman.  He bent down to kiss her before even saying hi.

“Where are we going?” he asked as they walked back to her car, their fingers loosely tangled in each other’s before he opened the door for her.  

“I said don’t ask too many questions,” she smiled before crouching to get into the passenger seat.  “Just follow my directions.”

“Are you gonna lead me off a cliff?”

“I think I already have.”

A shiver ran up his spine.  He closed the door.

***

They were apparently late.

At least, that’s how it seemed when Fred pulled into the parking lot of wherever Aleida brought him and there were practically no spaces – he had to go all the way to the back of the lot, under the overarching branches of a tree to find a space.  When he shut off the engine and they exited his car, Fred looked up, reading the large lettering at the side of the building.  

Our Lady of Charity Catholic Church / Iglesia Católica Nuestra Senora de la Caridad

“You brought me to a church?” he asked, looking at her.  She had a cheeky smile on her face.  “You trying to convert me or something?  Trying to get me to burst into flames?”

She snorted.  “Shut it.  We’re going to do something that makes me happy.”

“In a church?”

Aleida slapped his arm playfully.  “You’re mean.”

“C’mere,” he held her hand, pulling her towards him and the backing her up against the car.  He bent down again to kiss her, placing his hands on the small of her back.  

He was able to give her a few deep kisses before she pulled away to catch her breath.  “Mmm…” she mumbled, a small smile on her face as she looked down at his lips.  “You’re lucky I buy the good lipstick that doesn’t transfer.”

“Wouldn’t matter,” he mumbled quickly as he leaned in again to continue.  She let him.  “I just wanna kiss you.  I just wanna kiss you all the time.”

They kissed for a few more minutes – unable to keep their lips off each other – until Aleida pulled back again.  She bit her lip as she took a quick look at him.  Her hand went down to his to grab it and she tugged on it lightly.  “Come on,” she tried to move him away from the car and towards the building.

“Aleida.”

“Frederik,” she eyed him.  “Let’s go.”

As Aleida led them into the side door of the church, she immediately led them down the stairs and into the basement hall.  The place was buzzing.  There were people everywhere, young and old, and everybody he could hear was speaking Spanish.  Fred had to watch his head as they turned the corridor, coming upon some sort of check-in station.  Aleida spoke quickly in Spanish to the older women manning the station who wrote down her name and handed her two of those small raffle tickets.  They looked behind her to see Fred lurking.  

“¿Es este tu invitado?” she asked Aleida.  [[ Is this your guest? ]]

“Si,” Aleida nodded, smiling slightly.  “Sun ombre es Frederik.  Federico.”  [[ Yes.  His name is Frederik. ]]

“El es muy alto,” the other woman said, giving him an up down.  “Un trago alto de agua. Y tan jengibre.”  [[ He’s very tall.  A tall drink of water.  And so ginger. ]]

“Definitivamente no es Cubano,” the first woman said.  [[ He’s definitely not Cuban. ]]

“El es danés.”  [[ He’s Danish. ]]

“Claro que lo es. Los cubanos nunca son tan altos,” she smiled.  She looked at him and smiled, and he smiled politely back.  “Have fun tonight,” she said, her voice heavy with an accent.  [[Of course he is.  Cuban men are never that tall. ]]

“Gracias,” Fred bowed his head slightly as Aleida grabbed his hand again and led him further down the hall.  He felt like a little puppy being led around new environments for the first time.  “What were those ladies saying?”

“They had the hots for you.”

Fred snorted.  “Be serious.”

“I am!” she defended herself.  “They said they knew you weren’t Cuban because of your height.”

“Not my ginger hair?”

“That too.  You stick out like a sore thumb.”

There was a pause as Fred looked around again.  Stepping into the church hall, he saw a lineup of people being served food.  The place was packed – filled to the brim with people sitting at tables and enjoying themselves, laughing and telling jokes and eating the food.  Men and women were walked around putting wine bottles on tables.  Children were running through the spaces in between the tables trying to catch each other.  

He really did stick out like a sore thumb.

“What is this?” he asked.

“The Cuban Society of Toronto puts this on once a month,” she began.  “Cuban food, Cuban music, Cuban people all together.  And this is…you know…my culture,” she said.  “This is something I love.  Being with, and engaging with my culture.  Especially since things lead me to become so disconnected from it.”

Fred smiled down at her.  “This is amazing, Aleida.”

“It’s nice to be around people who don’t care who I am,” she continued.  “I mean…I mean some of them might know, but they don’t stare—”

“I get i—”

“—and they don’t – they don’t – I don’t know, they just don’t care.”

“I get it Aleida.  It’s okay,” he said softly.  He took one more look around the room, at all the people having a good time, and smiled.  “Should we go eat before it’s all gone?”

Aleida smiled.  “You bet.”

***

Fred was served something called ropa vieja – the classic Cuban dish of shredded beef, rice, vegetables, and a sauce.  The flavouring was to die for, and Fred could only chalk it up to the old grandmas serving the food who had probably made all the dishes in the first place.  It was one of the best things he’d ever had; one of the best meals he’d ever eaten.  He asked Aleida if she knew how to make it.  She did.  

Conversation at their section of the table was lively though Fred didn’t understand 95% of what was being said.  Aleida was deep in conversation with the Cuban family surrounding them, translating quickly for Fred before delving into what sounded like philosophy lectures with the family and their children – a young teen and two younger children.  Grandma, grandpa, aunts, uncles – everybody was there.  Aleida was having the time of her life.  She couldn’t speak fast enough to say what she wanted to say.  The smile on her face was as wide as when she was surrounded by her band, and just like when that happened, Fred didn’t want it to end.  He would stay here all night if he needed to.  He’d help clean up.  

Suddenly, before he could realize what was happening, they began clearing the plates away and folding up the tables very, very quickly.  Fred heard a quick few notes being played on a piano.  He looked towards the stage to see a man – maybe in his early sixties – sitting at the piano.  Around him, a band was bringing their instruments onto the stage.  There was already a drum set he hadn’t noticed.  Now a woman was testing a microphone.

He gulped.  

“Aleida…” he tugged on the sleeve of her turtleneck like a small child.  

“Perdóneme,” she excused herself from the conversation she was having with the matriarch of the family.  “Yes Fred?”

“What are they doing on stage?”

Aleida took a quick look and a smile appeared on her face.  “The band is setting up!”

“The band?  What band?”

“The band that plays the Cuban music!” she said excitedly.

There had been Cuban music playing from a speaker somewhere in the room throughout dinner – Fred didn’t think there’d be an actual band.  “Aleida – you – you didn’t tell me there’d be music,” he said worriedly.

“Yes I did.  I said Cuban food, Cuban music, and Cuban people all together.  It’s a dinner-dance, Fred.  There has to be a live band.”

Okay, so maybe she did.  He gulped at her words.  “Aleida, I don’t dance,” he said definitively.

“Oh, Fred—”

“No, Aleida – I – I don’t dance.”

“Fred, it will be fine.”

“No it won’t,” he said.  “I’m a six-foot-four, two-hundred-and-twenty-pound Danish man who can’t move his body unless it’s in a goalie crease.  This isn’t going to end well.”

“Frederik—”

“Aleida—”

“I can teach you, Fred.  It’s not that hard.”

“You won’t be able to.”

“It’s mostly salsa and mambo.  It’s not rocket science.  I’ll teach you the basic moves and you’ll be fine.”

“Aleida, I really don’t think you understand—”

“¡Hola todos!” a voice called out on the microphone.  Fred whipped his head around to see a woman with perfectly coiffed hair, probably in her early fifties, waving to everybody to get their attention.  “¡Bienvenido a la Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de la Caridad! Si nunca has estado, te damos la bienvenida a nuestra comunidad. ¡Esperamos que hayas disfrutado de la comida y estés listo para bailar con un filete! ¡Vamonos!” [[ Hello everybody!  Welcome to Our Lady of Charity Church!  If you have never been, we welcome you to our community.  We hope you have enjoyed the food and are ready to dance away to pulled steak!  Let's go! ]]

“Federico – do you know how to dance?” he was asked by the matriarch.

“No.”

“It’s very easy,” she said.  “You just move your hips and move your feet and—”

Suddenly, the music started.  An upbeat tempo introduced on the piano – apparently one everybody knew judging by their riotous cheers – and soon, the drums and guitar came in.  People coupled up almost instantaneously.  Fred’s cheeks flushed red and he backed himself up towards the wall.  

“Fred – Frederik,” Aleida called out to him, following him and extending her hand so he could grab it.  “Fred, it’s fine.”

“I don’t know how to dance to this music,” he said as he watched everybody move so in tune to the music and the beat so easily.

“Let me teach you,” she said, more softly this time, taking the initiative to grab his hand.  “Fred, it’ll be fine.  I’ll teach you.  No-one’s looking.”

“Aleida—”

“Fred – no-one’s looking,” Aleida stressed, getting even closer to him.  She pushed her body against his gently.  “Nobody’s looking.  And nobody’s gonna care.  We can do this.”

He knew what she meant by those words.  He did.  And so, his heartrate slowed down slightly, and he looked at Aleida’s smile, and how big it was, and he looked at her eyes, and the excitement in them – the happiness – rather than the sorrow he saw so much, and he relented.  For her.  Only for Aleida Casillas.

Aleida was extremely patient with him.  She tried teaching him the proper steps, and he got it a little bit, but then she tried to incorporate the hips, and he lost it, so she couldn’t help but laugh at his awkward limbs and nervous smile and think he was the absolute cutest person in the world.  Eventually, they had to give up, and Aleida just had to say “Just pretend and look like you know what you’re doing”, and Fred did.  And he was still awkward, and still bumped into a lot of people with his large body, and still moved his hips awkwardly and did abysmal footwork, but he was dancing with her.  He was having fun dancing with her, spinning her out and around before pulling her back in and having his hands all over her hips and body as she lost herself in the music.

Then the band started to play a different type of music.  Upbeat still, but sultrier.  A bit of a slower tempo.  Footwork and moves didn’t have to be so fast, and the movement of the hips was more pronounced – at least on Aleida – than before.  He liked it.  He really liked it.  He got to hold Aleida closer; place his hand on her hips and the small of her back before she would spin out and then rejoin him.  As the songs progressed, the beat got sultrier; and as the beat got sultrier, the closer Aleida got.  The more eye contact they’d make.  The more she’d feel the heat from his hands on her body.  

During a stop between songs, when everyone was clapping for the band, Aleida took a deep breath.  “Fred?” she eventually whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Let’s go to your car.”

He furrowed his brows.  “You already want to go home?”

He could be so innocent sometimes.  It was part of his charm and softness that she was drawn to so much.  “No, Fred.  Just follow me.”

She grabbed his hand and led him out of the church basement quickly, not bothering to look back.  She could hear the jingle of his keys as he pulled them out of his pocket to unlock his car, and she practically shoved him into the driver’s seat before she returned to the passenger’s seat.  As he was about to stick his keys into the ignition, she slapped his hand away.  “Don’t do that.”

He looked at her skeptically.  “What’s going on?”

“Push your seat back.”

“Wh—”

“I said push your seat back.”

“Aleida, I’m six-foot-four in a sports car – it’s already as far back as it can go.”

That was when it all got rolling.  Aleida hopped over the centre console to straddle Fred’s lap, almost immediately bringing her hands up to caress his face and crash her lips onto his.  Fred responded immediately, his tongue gliding along her lips gently and his hands squeezing her thighs before moving to cup her ass through the fabric of her tight pants.  

His lips were soft – so soft – just how Aleida remembered them – and his beard was rough – so rough – against her skin.  Just like before, his lips moved so in tune with hers, and after a while she really couldn’t figure out where his ended and hers began.  His hands kept wandering up and down her thighs, eventually tugging at her turtleneck that was tucked into her pants.  It didn’t take long until she pulled away reluctantly, helping him push the fabric up and over her head and onto the passenger’s seat, leaving her in her nude coloured lace bra on his lap.  

Fred gulped.  This was the first time he’d ever seen her like this; so flush with raw emotion and so…exposed – physically at least – that he almost didn’t know what to do.  But then his body took over, and he stopped thinking too much, and his lips were on her skin again, and his hands were on her skin again, and he realized they were going to hook up in his God damn car, and he reminded himself to stop thinking too much again, and he licked and sucked a trail down her neck to the top of her breasts as she grinded down onto his lap.

It was going to be interesting to maneuver, this whole…situation.  There was no point in thinking of the logistics of it because Aleida started making little noises and moaning softly and it was driving Fred crazy.  Absolutely fucking crazy.  And Aleida could tell, because she could feel how hard he was getting beneath her.

So she started fumbling with his belt.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Fred.  She still had her pants on.  “Aleida…” he huffed.

She didn’t respond.  She was focused in on his belt and continued working on it until it was unbuckled.

So he started to unbutton her pants.  

There was a sharp intake of breath from Aleida.  She lifted herself so Fred could shove her pants down past her knees.  “Fred…” she huffed.

He didn’t respond.  He was focused on the underwear she was wearing.

When he looked up at her, she kissed him again.  Feverishly.  There was no point in holding back anymore and it wasn’t like she even wanted to.  She was initiating this and they were doing this and it was happening fast.  His hands returned wandering along her exposed skin as his lips returned to her neck and breasts.  

She tugged gently at his hair as his tongue ran across her clavicle.  The noise that escaped him was…God, she didn’t even have a word for it.  It was the first time she’d heard it and she had never heard it before.  Unexplainable.  His hands dug into the ample flesh of her ass as she did it again.  She noticed the windows were starting to fog slightly.  She let out a sigh.

Her hand eventually moved down in between their bodies to free his member.  She lifted herself slightly again to do so, giving it a few strokes that garnered heavy sighs from Fred.  He pulled down her panties easily before she lowered herself back onto his lap.  She gave him a quick kiss.

“You alright?” Fred breathed out.  

Aleida nodded.  “You?”

Fred nodded.  He gave her another kiss and as he did, she moved so he could enter her slowly.  They didn’t lose eye contact as she kept lowering herself onto him, gripping onto the skin at the nape of his neck.  “Jesus fuck,” she sighed out.  She tried to steady her breathing, the ache between her legs due to his size shocking her.  “God, Frederik.”

He gave her a big, wet kiss and she moaned into his mouth as she adjusted to his size.  When she did, she began to grind back and forth on his lap, keeping eye contact with him as she did so, her body filling with pleasure.  She let out some more soft moans before tugging Fred’s hair again.  

Two could play at that game.  

One of his giant hands immediately went to her core and he used his thumb to start rubbing circles.  A string of expletives left her mouth as they leaned their foreheads against each other’s, keeping eye contact, their breath becoming more erratic and hotter with each passing second.  Judging by her movements and breathing, he knew she was close – this wasn’t meant to last long, anyway – and he was close, too.  He increased the pressure he was putting on her hot core.

“Fred…” she leaned forward slightly, whispering his name against his lips.  “F…F…Freddie…Freddie…Freddie…”

At the feeling of him releasing inside her she came undone.  Writhing and shaking on top of him, repeating his name in mewls over and over again between moans and sighs, she rode out her orgasm for as long as she could.  Fred gripped one of her thighs, squeezing them as they both tried to steady their breathing.  Fred kissed her tenderly on the shoulder and neck as they began to settle down, Aleida eventually resting her forehead against his again.  She stared into his soul.  Her body felt warm with pleasure.  

“That was fucking hot,” he blurted out.

Aleida bit her lip as she tried to suppress a laugh, smiling devilishly instead.  She gave him a small peck on the lips.  “That was hot,” she whispered back.

“Fuck, Aleida,” he sighed as he slipped out of her.  He quickly looked down at her ample breasts, still in their bra, pushed against his chest.  “Aleida—”

She kissed him again, needing him to be quiet.  She wanted to revel in this moment for just a bit longer.  And she needed to do that without voices – without her inner thoughts, without him saying anything.  She’d just had sex in a sportscar parked in a church parking lot.  She felt like she was young again, a teenage giddiness within her at the thought of what just happened.  What she had just done with Fred.

With Fred.

When her lips left his again, she looked deep into his eyes.  She kissed the tip of his nose.  She couldn’t help it.  “You’re going to have to help me put my panties back on,” she smiled slightly.

“How about you keep them off for the ride back to my place,” Fred suggested.

Aleida giggled.  “We’re not going home.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not done dancing, Frederik.”

Fred’s face dropped, and Aleida snorted into a fit of giggles.  “You don’t expect me to go back in there, do you?” he asked.

“I said I’m not done dancing, which means neither are you,” she continued to giggle, giving him another kiss on the nose.  “Now help me with my panties.”

“Aleida.”

“I’ll help you with yours,” she wiggled her eyebrows.  

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m as serious as a stroke,” she said, reaching down to grab her own panties since Fred hadn’t bothered due to his shock.  “We’re gonna get dressed, I’m gonna go to the washroom to freshen up, and then we’re gonna continue dancing until the band stops playing.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” Fred huffed out.  

She leaned in to his ear.  “Save that energy for when we go back to your place later.”

Fred groaned loudly.  

***

Fred waited for Aleida outside the women’s washroom.  Every person that passed gave him the complete up-down, clearly still surprised to see someone so ginger and so tall at the event.  It couldn’t have been because he was probably flushed red after what just happened.  It couldn’t have been because his hair was now disheveled, unlike earlier.  It couldn’t have been because he was jittery waiting for Aleida.  

He smiled politely at every patron who stared.

When Aleida finally emerged, looking as fresh and beautiful as ever – not at all like she had just fucked someone out in the parking lot in a sportscar – he pushed himself off his leaning position on the wall.  “Are we seriously going to keep dancing?” he asked.  Maybe she had been playing a trick on him.  Come back in and go to the washroom but then drag him back outside again.  She would be one to do so.

“Yes,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, grabbing his hand to drag him back into the hall.  The band was taking a break, but everyone was still congregated in the hall, talking to one another.  

She found the family they had eaten with and began speaking with the matriarch again, and then the matriarch seemed really excited to introduce another family to Aleida – a great grandfather, the grandparents, the parents, and their four children – and the great-grandfather kissed Aleida’s hand and whispered something to her, and the grandfather gave her a big hug and held her face lovingly, and the little girl, maybe nine or ten years old, tugged on her dad’s sleeve and nodded over to Fred, who smiled and waved at everyone.  He had no clue what was going on.  Aleida motioned for him to come closer.

“This is Manuel Alvarez,” she pointed to the great-grandfather, “and Martìn and Sofìa,” she pointed at the grandparents, “and their son Santiago and his wife Nina,” she pointed to the parents, “and their children Augusto, Antonio, Ximena, and Rosa.”

“Hello,” Fred shook all of their hands, even the children, and smiled politely.  

“Tu marido es muy guapo,” Sofìa smiled at Aleida.  [[ Your husband is very handsome. ]]

“Oh, el no es mi esposo.”  [[ Oh, he’s not my husband. ]]

“Será major que lo hagas tu esposo o alguien má en esta sala,” Sofìa giggled, giving Fred another look.  “Rosa definitivamente lo hará.”  [[ You better make him your husband or else someone else in this room will.  Rosa definitely will.]]

Fred smiled awkwardly as Aleida laughed.  He looked at her, confused.  “Do you know them?” he asked timidly.

“My dad operated on Manuel – double bypass surgery – ten years ago,” Aleida informed him quickly.  “He recognized me from a picture in my dad’s office and wanted to say thank you.”

The band interrupted any further explanation or conversation they could have, the sound of them testing their instruments filling the room.  That’s when Manuel limped over to Aleida, grabbing her hand tenderly again.  “¡Señorita Casillas, debo tener al menos un baile con usted! ¿Puedo mantenerte alejado de tu novio por tanto tiempo?” [[ Miss Casillas, I must have at least once dance with you!  Can I keep you away from your boyfriend for that long? ]]

Aleida smiled.  She couldn’t deny him.  He reminded her so much of her own great-grandfather – God rest his soul.  She looked at Fred.  “I think Rosa wants to dance with you.”

Fred looked down at the little girl, who was looking away shyly.  He bent down so he could be at somewhat eye-level with her, though he was still taller.  “Do you think you can show me how to do the next dance?”

She nodded her head.  “Do you know the Chipi Chipi?”

“No.”

“It’s easy.  You get to wave your hands like this,” she gave him an example.  “And the music is fun.”

As if on cue, the band began to play intro music to let everyone know it was time to dance again.  People partnered up almost automatically.  Manuel held Aleida’s hand up and placed his hand gently on her waist, ready to dance.  Fred stood up and extended his hands for Rosa to hold, which she did enthusiastically.  The music started.  Everybody began dancing.

The first song apparently wasn’t the Chipi Chipi, because they didn’t have to wave hands, but after that song ended, Aleida continued dancing with Manuel and Fred with Rosa, and it was all in good fun – Fred would glance at Aleida to see the movements he was supposed to be doing, and try to mimic them as much as possible.  When he couldn’t – or when he became a stumbling mess – he resorted to just spinning Rosa in and out, even lifting her up and twirling her around, making her giggle in excitement every time.  

When Rosa squeaked excitedly at the start of a new song, Fred knew it was the song she was waiting for.  Everybody in the hall seemed excited, too, as the band began playing.  Fred looked over to Aleida, still dancing with Manuel, and they smiled at each other before the woman began singing the lyrics.  

Amor, te voy a comprar un avioncito para volar En nuestra luna de miel Amor, te voy a comprar un trencito para viajar En nuestra luna de miel Escucha lo que dice al caminar.. Tu canta el chipi chipi para bailar..

The dancing was easy enough, and the tempo was so happy and upbeat, Fred couldn’t help but break out into a smile.  Rosa readied him for the chorus, where they flung their arms in the air.

Pichipi chipi, eh! Chipi chipi, eh! Aprende a bailar el ritmo del Chipi chipi Pichipi chipi, eh!, Chipi chipi, eh! Aprende a bailar el ritmo del Chipi chipi Epaaaaaaa! Opalaaaa!. Gózalaaaa! Así, aprende negro..

Aleida eyed Fred dancing with Rosa, and how he was letting her lead.  Manuel took notice too, and knew Aleida wanted to join him.

Amor, te voy a comprar un buquecito para pescar En nuestra luna de miel Amor, te voy a comprar un trencito para viajar En nuestra luna de miel Escucha lo que dice al caminar.. Nos canta el Chipi chipi para bailar..

In one swift movement, Manuel let go of Aleida so she could join Fred, and Rosa let go of Fred and began dancing with her great-grandfather.  Fred’s arm snaked around her body as he held her close and danced with her, letting go of every inhibition he had.  

Chipi chipi, eh!. Chipi chipi, eh! Aprende a bailar el ritmo del Chipi chipi Pichipi chipi, eh!  Pichipi chipi, eh! Aprende a bailar el ritmo del Chipi chipi

For Aleida, this was happiness.  Being with Fred.  Dancing to Cuban music.  Her stomach full of Cuban food.  

This was happiness.

***

Late that night, Fred noticed that Aleida had a tattoo.  It was in between her shoulder blades, on her back, about the size of the palm of his hand – and he had a big palm.  It was done impeccably well – the shading was incredibly realistic.  He couldn’t make out what it was at first, and he started to trace the area of it with his fingertips after Aleida had collapsed onto the bed – half on, half off his body – after they made love.

“What is it?” he asked softly.

“It’s the photo of the monk burning himself.  The cover of the first Rage Against the Machine album.”

“Rage Against the Machine is your favourite band?” he asked.  He figured as such since she had the album art tattooed on her.  She nodded her head, confirming his suspicions.  “Why?”

She shrugged slightly.  “I’m angry.”

***

Aleida found herself in a bar downtown sipping on a long island iced tea as she stood in between Fred’s legs as he sat on a barstool.  A few of his teammates were there – Auston, Andreas Johnsson, Mitch Marner, and Kasperi Kapanen.  Steph hadn’t shown up yet – and maybe she wouldn’t knowing that Aleida was there – but Auston was already chatting up his usual girls, and Kasperi’s apparent new squeeze Saylor – an Instagram model, of course – brought a group of her friends along who Aleida knew very well.  Aleida rolled her eyes as they entered one by one, their chain bags, false eyelashes, and over-injected lips making her laugh.  To each their own, but at the same time, they were so stereotypical of Toronto party girls that it was almost comical.  

“You feeling okay?” she could hear Fred ask softly as his hand gripped the back of her thigh.  

“They keep staring at me.”

“Who?”

“Kasperi’s fivesome,” she gave one a glare.  “Saylor, Gina, Amanda, Sadie, and Jen.”

“You know them?”

“Unfortunately,” she rolled her eyes.  “Saylor’s gotten some work done with my sister – same with Sadie and Jen.  Gina’s a known problem.  She dated a friend of a friend and was an utter psychopath.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Fred asked.  Aleida looked at him to continue.  “Why do you care to know who has gotten work done with your mom or sister?  Like, what does it matter?”

“People have been obsessed with my body for as long as I can remember.  And because of that, I’ve been accused of it – of getting plastic surgery to look the way I do – and girls like them made my life a literal living hell as they tried to dig as far as they could to prove it.  But they couldn’t because I never did.  Nobody could fathom it so they decided to spread nasty rumours about me instead.”

“Don’t you think you should break the cycle of that?” Fred asked.  “Like, not participate in it since it ruined your life or whatever.”

“No,” Aleida said abruptly.  “That’s not my job.”

“Isn’t that everybody’s job?”

“Not when they make your life a living hell.”

“I don’t know if I agree with you,” Fred said.

“You don’t have to.  I’m not changing my mind.”  Aleida took a quick sip of her drink.  “I’m not asking you to agree with my choices, Fred,” she said, suddenly feeling annoyed.  “You have no idea what I’ve been through.  What’s been said about me and what girls like that did to me in the past.  You have no idea.”

“But my point is those girls aren’t doing it right now,” he tried again.

“Oh, but they are,” Aleida said.  “Believe me.  They are.”

Fred looked back at them quickly.  He wasn’t so sure.  They seemed to be minding their own business.  But then again, he didn’t know Aleida’s world.  He had no clue, no concept of not only this world, but the different worlds she had to inhabit; the different worlds that still ate away at her.  “Aleida, I just want you to be as happy as you were when we were at the church.”

She looked Fred in the eye, breaking eye contact with the girls.  It was the first time in a long time someone had said they wanted her to be happy.  She almost didn’t know how to address it.  She almost didn’t know what to say.  “I know you do.”

“If you want to leave, we can,” he offered.  “We’ve been here long enough, and Auston’s preoccupied now,” he nodded his head over to his friend.  “He won’t be mad.”

Aleida considered it, wondering if she really wanted to go.  She decided that she did.  She didn’t need to be around these girls – and she was pretty sure the second she left, Steph would show up anyway.  “Let me finish my drink – I’m not paying almost twenty bucks for a cocktail without finishing it.”

When she left for a final trip to the washroom, she looked at herself in the mirror, her makeup making her skin looked dewy, but her bold red lip giving her the slightest edge.  Aleida knew she looked good virtually always – she wasn’t going to be subtle or pretend she didn’t – and she knew it affected people’s perception of her, because they thought she was always on.  Like, she was always Aleida Casillas.  She was never just a girl from Toronto to them – she was always Aleida Casillas, a persona that occupied the minds of so many people that they had preconceived notions of her before they even met her.  She wasn’t an idiot.  She saw the looks people gave her when they saw her in a crowded room; the slight raise of their eyebrows when they saw her or were introduced, like ‘Oh my God, it’s really her!  I’m really meeting her!’.  It was either that or a prodding – a push to see if she really lived up to every expectation, every negative stereotype, every negative story they heard about her being “bitchy” and a “handful”; another girl with an inflated sense of self, an inflated ego, with too much money to spend to care.

When she left, she saw Auston and Kasperi speaking to Fred, which meant the Kasperi Fivesome were left unattended.  Before she could look around the room to check where they were, she heard them instead.  

“Hey Aleida,” it was Saylor who said the words.  The entire group approached her, some more timid than others.  Saylor and Gina were the confident ones.  Saylor because she sucked Kasperi’s dick; Gina because she was just a psychopath.  

“Hi,” she said abruptly.

“Can’t believe the rumours are true.  You’re here with Fred,” Saylor said.

“So?  That’s none of your fucking business,” Aleida said harshly.  “Shouldn’t you be taking more asinine videos of yourself posing in bikinis for Instagram?”

“Modelling seems to be working for you,” Gina butt in.

Aleida rolled her eyes.  “Are you really trying to start something, Gina?  You don’t even want to seem above all the drama?”  Out of the corner of her eye, Aleida could see the boys looking over at them.  Fred was probably getting scared.  She focused her attention back on Saylor.  “I thought you and your group would be classier than Kasperi’s last.”

“I just think it’s funny that you make fun of Saylor when you’ve done modelling too,” Gina butt in again.

Aleida couldn’t help but laugh.  “The type of modelling I do and the type of modelling Saylor does are worlds away from each other.”

Suddenly, Fred and Kasperi were beside her.  Fred looked down at her and to the girls.  “Everything cool?” Kasperi asked cautiously.

“Is it though?  You think it’s dumb she does bikini shoots but we’ve all seen your pictures for Genevieve Jones.  I mean, what would Gabriela and Matias think?” Gina arched her brow.  “Would they want to see pictures like that of their tía?”

Aleida’s eyes went dark – darker than anything Fred had ever seen.  On the outside she remained calm, but Fred could tell a fire had been ignited inside.  Something switched inside Aleida.  She leaned into Gina to get closer to her ear, but was still far away enough so everybody within the close vicinity could hear her words.  “If you ever bring up my niece and nephew again, I will slit your throat in a church.  Do you understand me?”

Gina giggled.  “I’d like to see you try.”

“Try me,” Aleida shrugged her shoulders, smiling politely at her.  “Either that or I call your sugar daddy to stop giving you your candy, fucking coke whore.  Maybe I’ll call the cops too.  You choose.”

Kasperi’s eyes went wide as he stepped back.  Everybody’s did.  “Excuse me?” Gina’s jaw dropped.

“Whoops!” Aleida smiled.  “I bet you didn’t want Kasperi knowing about that.  It’s okay – you know what – I’ll do the heavy lifting for you and go ahead and tell Auston because we all know you want to suck him off in the bathroom—”

“Aleida—”

“Is that why you got the nose job?  Did you get coke nose already at the tender age of 21?  God, even Saylor hasn’t even developed one yet—”

“Aleida—”

“Let’s do this, actually – you bring up my niece and nephew ever again, and I tell everybody you snorted your first rails off a Louis Vuitton your escorting pimp bought you that time last year you got really desperate.”

“Aleida!”

“Let’s get one thing straight, alright?  I could put $10,000 under my Manolos and you’d eat it up and fucking like it,” Aleida was scathing.  “You’d be so fucking desperate for it you’d do anything.  You’re so desperate to be relevant and so desperate to have your name on my mouth that you would do anything, and I’m here to tell you the game doesn’t work like that with desperate coke whores like you.  So don’t you dare put my name in your mouth ever again.”

And with that, Aleida turned on her heels and walked out of the bar.

Fred followed after her, his long strides catching up to her fairly quickly.  He couldn’t believe what had just happened.  He couldn’t believe the complete 180 she’d done in mere minutes.  The vitriol that came out of her mouth – however true – and the way that she said it.  The tone of her voice.  The confidence in her voice that with her knowledge, she could ruin someone’s life.  The fact that she couldn’t do it so easily and not even hesitate.  Sometimes, he thought that she was just as bad as the girls she seemed to hate; the girls that apparently caused her so much trouble.  But at the same time, he wondered: if she found this acceptable, what had people said about her?  How bad had it been it against her?  How bad was it against her, currently?  He didn’t know what to think anymore.  He didn’t know where he stood on everything and he was more confused than ever.  He had seen her at her best, dancing to Cuban music with him and a great-grandfather in the basement of a Catholic church; and now, he felt like he’d seen her at her worst.  The most despicable.  The most reprehensible behaviour.  He didn’t know if he could justify it in any way.  He didn’t know if he wanted to justify it in any way.  How could he?  “Aleida.  Aleida!” he yelled after her.  “Aleida, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“A lot, can’t you tell?” she yelled over her shoulder, not breaking her stride.

Fred caught up with her.  He grabbed her elbow gently and pulled her into an illuminated side alley – dumpsters just a few feet away from them.  How symbolic, she thought.  Fred glared down at her.  “What the fuck was that in there?”

“The truth.”

“Don’t,” he cautioned.  “Not with me.”

“Not with you what?” she demanded.

“We’re fucking past that.”

“Not with you what?!” she repeated.

“Stop being Aleida with me and start being Aleida,” he demanded.  “What the hell was all that?  Why do you constantly feel the need to do that?  To do that to people?”

“Because I can, Fred.”

“What gives you the right, Aleida?”

She looked at him indignantly.  “I’m going home.”

“Aleida—”

“I’m going home and you better not follow me,” she turned on her heels again and began walking.

“Aleida!” Fred called out to her again.  “Aleida!  Aleida!”

She didn’t bother looking back.

[cullxtheherd]

oh my god I haven't thought about BtVS in so long fdjsaio tell me some of your Angel/Angelus headcanons (insert eyes emoji here)

jhbjghljkghkfgl; oh my GOD i honestly never stopped loving AtS or BtVS!! bgut i did stop watching originally when Doyle perished cause?? sorry but he is babey and though i do understand why the actor was let go from his role, it's still super upsetting. i hate the episode Hero and also love it to pieces- just watched it yesterday and screamed ALLEN FRANCIS NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO for just. so long. tbh i was thinking about adopting him as a muse but tbh with you Angel and older 90s/early 00s muses don't get much attention anyways so i haven't yet skdjksds maybe after Harry from Resident Alien later tonight gets added I'll think about it again ksjdksjd. ANYWAYS THIS ISN'T WHAT YOU ASKED FOR KSJDSkfsd ON WITH IT!! just be aware there is no way i can include all the headcanons here so i'll just hlglhkglkhlgk about the ones i can think of asap

𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵

in the show (both buffy & angel) they are constantly telling us through dialogue, scene setting, etc that the reason Angel and (later) Spike hate killing and feeding suddenly is because "killing humans = bad ☹ grr, arrgh." i think it runs deeper than this. i think they are not solely repulsed because it is the morally wrong thing to do. i think they are disgusted in?? an almost obsessive way because of how badly they'd still like to do it despite knowing better and having control over themselves. certain episodes the way Angel and Spike's portrayals go: yes definitely they are giving us that and barely highlighting it. but i really. i don't remember either show ever coming out and saying it outright.

personally i think that the Buffy/Angel romance seems waaaayyy super crazy rushed in the show and i'm not really sure if they/joss even meant it like that! it just really be seeming that way af!!! logically the whole affair lasts about/just shy of three years if we are doing the maths and technically?? it really took 1.5 years before they even did the ol squelchy welch. which lmaooa jksdhkdjsfd can you imagine?? any young adults in a consenting relationship actually waiting that long?? yeah ekjnbswedsdxfks anyways. i just? idk. loved AtS and BtVS very much but his departure seemed super rushed and so did their romance bye sjhdbfs

speaking of?? while i am very much a buffy/angel ship supporter as an adult i do find it so freaking weird he?? was made by Darla in 1898 and theennnn spent 171 motha fuckin years parading around as Angelus- didn't even know about Buffy Summers until he was already 269 (nice) and when acathala SHAT his ass back out he was already 371, she was a juNIOr in higHSCHOOOLPLK ANNNDDD i have a hEAdache i gotta goooOO

no but really i. skhjfjhgf as an adult i am weirded out but?? idk it's one of my childhood ships i gotta pry it from my OWN cold dead hands i guess smh

personally i think Angel keeps trinkets from the people he's saved over the years. and i don't mean at random Investigations via his detective agency or, later, Wolfram & Hart. i mean?? the cases we see like?? the episode 'are you now or have you ever been' that takes us back to the 1950s and the Hyperion Hotel in it's heyday. angel aided a woman named Judy Kovacs- albeit rather reluctantly to try and escape and THEN a literal MOB beat and lynched his ass and thennNNNN, in present time, he fights against the same life-sucking chaos-causing Thesulac demon with his friends/colleagues. after all of this he finds Judy somehow still in her room (214) surviving just a few doors down from his (217) so many years ago just?? waiting. and while canonically the show has Angel in room 312? I disagree. i think he would have taken up residence in 214 or 217...... 214 cause i'm feeling sappy. check his bathroom cabinets i bet you it's got at least a few of her accoutrements living inside.

i think?? despite?? darla not being able to take his soul via the big squelchy that he and Angelus really did care about her- heck!! in the early?? 1900s he DID try to return to her and adapt to her violent way of life he just couldn't do it

while i am?? verryyy willing to write buffy/angel ship stuff i really do think after the events in I Will Remember You it would take a literal set of miracles to get him to even attempt being with Buffy again. i think that while he will always love her no matter what that he has learned that?? things that are or seem too?? good or pure for a creature like him genuinely are. though he is/was the Powers That Be-s-es-es?? ES favorite ensouled boy-toy i really, genuinely do think that a happy ending is just NOT in the cards for our boyo

if buffy wasn't evidence enough of that fact?? cordy. Skip really came and took her just like that. then the whatevers that WHOEVER shat her back out to really just give birth to jasmine and connor and i rrepwsrenbjhdfbskdjnsf worst. season. EVER. i refuse i fucking REFUSE TO EGHV ADBAKJSDFALKFNKSADJF???!?!?!?! i hate it so much. i hate it. so. m u c h. connor and cordy should have never EVER been a thing and i will erase it from history if i have to give birth to myself to do it

𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝𝕦𝕤

hoo babey. while angel is?? reserved and doesn't?? really mention any kind of explorative or wild side with any regularity in the show this wild child leather-pants-wearing abomination gives NO shits. he is very, VERY pansexual and you can fight my spirit on top of my grave about it.

regarding the last thing i said: there was definitely a polyamorous relationship happening between Angelus, Darla, Spike and Drusilla in my book. there are certain... jealous scenarios- heck!! just LOOK at episodes with Spike where he's being pouty about not getting the proper attention he deserves. if you think this is just about Dru i am begging you to reconsider

also?!?!?!?! PENN?! Penn was so obsessively and grossly in love with Angelus his sire I can not EVEN BEGIN TO FIUBNFDAKJSDFN

i think?? there are times in Angel's day-to-day where he not only misses but craves the presence of Angelus and visa versa. Angelus obviously seems a bit more openly repulsed by his softer side cause like?? each half is SO strongly suited to one extreme and?? as much as Angel and Angelus would both loathe my next statement: two halves do make a whole.

i think that while?? Angel may be cursed with a soul, that's not all. Angelus doesn't have regular control any longer, for sure, but i really do think it is oftentimes a daily battle to tune him out. why?? the orb of thesulah is only used to summon and store a human soul until it is re/tethered to a body. the ritual that the "Gypsies" and Willow performed didn't?? do anything with the actual demon. it didn't send it back to whatever Hell dimension it came from it just?? gave angel a soul- it gave what was left of Liam (O'Connor if you follow fan-lore) control over himself and the demon inhabiting his body. though the show never depicts or portrays this i am willing to bet real money that somewhere, deep down Angelus is on the inside rattling his mirror against the bars screaming: IM HENRY THE EIGTH I AM I AM!!! over and over an over and ov-

angel, however, when not in control seems to go into some semi-mostly dormant state as evidenced by the fact that he was entirely gone during their time in Acathala and relied on solely the demon half to get him through, but?? i'm 56% sure he is there sniveling in the ether when Angelus is driving he's just?? clearly not as strong mentally.

while?? Angel is a very respectable creature who cares about and loves his friends/found family i really do think that Angelus loves NO ONE. i think he cares about a few entities but i do not think he is capable of love proper as we think of it- both shows continuously remind us that number one in Angelus's world is, in fact, Angelus which means...

i doubt he really cares about pleasing his partner/s where that is likely Angel's main objective and lskjdnfjd i really have to go before this gets super raunchy

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

āmentĭa || Thomas Shelby x reader

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested: “Can I request #16 with a jealous tommy, angsty pretty please?”

Summary: n.16 from prompt list: “Another’s hands on her skin” Warnings: swearing, anxiety, angst, a bit of smut, jealous desperate Tommy making my soul ache

Author’s notes:

Behind each one of these works there are sleepless nights and something really close to multiple mental breakdowns, so, please, take a minute to send me a message about it, I need actual feedbacks to understand how to improve my skills and grow ♡

Paragraphs written in italics are flashbacks.⤟ IMPORTANT

Sentences between bold quotation marks (❝  ❞ ) are Tommy’s thoughts.⤟ IMPORTANT

I wanted to thank you darlings for all the love you’ve been sending me, you truly make me happy, I’m so grateful to share my works with you ♡

I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!

If you want to be added to my tag list, please, directly message me

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

āmentĭa [amentiă], amentiae  feminine noun I declension

1. compulsion, disturbance, raving, hysteria 2. malaise, vexation, affliction, regret, 3. viciousness, anger, furor, choler, 4. impetum, violence, heat, rush, impulse 5. separation, rupture, abandon 6. paroxysm, yearning, eagerness 7. infatuation, frantic desire, amorous fervour

Heavy rain incessantly hit the windows sideways, giving life to a perpetual recurrence of dull sounds relentlessly haunting Tommy’s eardrums, yet he remained laying on his cold bed, motionless, with his glacial stare disturbingly fixed on the ivory ceiling. His bare chest kept raising and lowering in toil, labored breath coming out of his slightly parted lips in agonizing sighs, goosebumps slimily crawling on his more than ever pale skin, due to the extremely low temperature in his room; still, he didn’t seem to care.  Two deafening chimes abruptly ripped apart the bleak air, midnight struck with no mercy, inexorably, raiding into his black lungs, plundering all of the oxygen he had left. The day had eventually come, the day in which he would’ve lost you, forever. Thomas brusquely stopped breathing as his raw flesh seemed to lacerate, it felt like the Devil’s acuminate claws had pierced his ribcage, penetrating through his bones, carving to reach his cardiac muscle, ruthelessly stabbing it, brutally slicing into his stomach. For a full, interminable minute, blind panic took over his paralyzed body, having him pant and whine, making him look like a dying animal in pure agony, while his empty gaze never left the spot right before his dilated pupils. Tom had met you three years before, by the time war had just come to an end: it’d been only a few months since Harry had hired you to help him handle the pub, and when the Shelbys finally entered the Garrison again, after four long years, you clearly didn’t have a clue of what was going on.

Your boss had tensely hurried to instruct you on what your job was for that night, apparently, it only consisted in following those three men in their private room, favoring their every wish, always with a smile and kindness. You remembered looking around the tavern, deeply confused, since the whole clientele had suddenly fallen deadly silent: every man in there was gazing at the ground and taking off his hat out of respect, causing you to be even more disorientated by that odd situation. “Just keep your head down, y/n, those guys are dangerous, I mean it. They take whatever they want, whenever they want, whether people like it or not” Harry’s words kept echoing into your mind, Tommy’s crystal eyes immediately piercing your soul when you quickly reached for their privè. There was some sort of  unsettling stravation sailing through his granitic irises, while he shamelessly stared at you, barely blinking his eyelids, and a cheeky grin peered out on his angular face. Breath unexpetedly shattered into your throat, your forearms rippled with evident goosebumps, as you truly began to see what that previous alarming reccomendation was about. Your heart grievously skipped a beat because of that abrupt scene mercilessly flashing before your tired eyes. A huge amount of air was forcefully shoved down your pharynx in a miserable effort to put to rest any of your conflicting emotions, yet you didn’t seem able to abort your detrimental thoughts; once more, your restless glare fell on the wooden pendulum clock pinned to the wall in front of your queen size bed. “Oh my God, what happened?” Thomas watched your hexyl hand shake before your open mouth, an expression of pure horror mixed with shock virulently took over your soft features at the sight of bleeding abhorrent wounds mutilating his marble skin. “Let me in” That order dropped from his busted lips, but it sounded like nothing more than a feeble prayer, as he painfully cought up blood on your doormat. His stomach unusually clenched when he sensed your tiny arms carefully wrap around his torsum for the very first time, in order to support his weight, thus his head innately tilted in your direction, making your noses rub one another by accident, while his icy-blue eyes carved deep into yours. “You’re a fucking angel” He whispered at the end of his rope, already being in a state of partial unconsciousness, therefore it took only a few more instants for him to effectively faint in your warm embrace. That brief memory led Tommy to hastily lift his back, a crippling feeling of anxiety, along with deep overwhelming fear, came unbidden, having him struggle to inhale as much oxygen as possible, while he crawled towards the edge of the mattress, then sitting and propping both his elbows right above his knees; his left hand convulsely run through his face, like that simple gesture could’ve helped him get rid of those loathsome sensations devouring his guts from the inside. Bells rang again, another hour went by, time continued to unrelentingly slip between his fingers. “Just be rational for once!” Tommy ferociously shouted in your face, thick veins appallingly throbbing in his neck, blood traces invading his white orbs; as usual, he was plainly too despotic and hardheaded to let anyone around him make their own decisions. “I don’t see what the problem is, Thomas. You’ll find another bloody bartender, for God’s sake!” Soon afterwards your reply brusted out in another yell and your hands started franticly moving into the air, as you were strenuosly fighting for your sacrosanct right to finally leave Birmingham and move to Paris to begin a whole new life, putting all of that shit behind you.  Yet, before your brain could process what was actually happening, you felt your back hardly clash with the cold brick wall, Tom’s mighty figure trapped yours forthwith, one of his fists vehemently grabbing a consistent strand of your hair, so to make your mouths collide in an unexpected tempestuous movement. “That’s my fucking problem” An atrocious knot cluttered up your gullet, forcing you to scarcely gasp for a fresh breath again, your velvet fingertips unwittingly went to brush your slightly wet lips, due to a lonely tear which had just tumbled from your full lashes. You could almost sense his touch on your fervent skin.

Faltering, you dragged yourself on your feet and your shoulders shriveled, for a cool draft brutally hit your quivering body; with heavy steps, you reached for your wedding dress armonically rested on a copper mannequin. Ivory tulle coursed amidst your fingers, while your blurred vision remained anxiously fixed on that wonderful piece of haut couture at the fathal stroke of the third hour of the morning. “You belong to me” That husky grunt lingered the soft skin of your naked chest, instantly followed by Tommy’s luscious kisses, his callous palms utterly enveloping your curves as your live flesh superbly engulfed every inch of his length and his hips kept diving into yours, miraculously giving life to an exquisite blend. He was revelling in the sight of your erotic beauty, he couldn’t just avert his thirsty glacial irises from your winsome shape now twitching with raw pleasure.

Those ruthless sequences of images irretrievably haunted his dark pupils, unfolding into his head over and over again. Thomas squeezed his eyelids nearly in physical pain, allowing himself to drown in his bittersweet memories: he was still perfectly able to feel your edges fill his hands, your voluptuous voice reawaken his numb ears, your mild thighs fondling his sharp pelvic bones. “Fuck!” All of a sudden, his hoarse tone clamorously reverberated in the room, brutally tearing apart the previous stillness, while Tommy berserkly stood up and, affected by a pernicious choler, he savagely ravaged every single thing in his path, until the floor was completely covered in shards and his breathing showed clear symptoms of hyperventilation. Everything was shot in pieces because of him, because of his pathetic selfishness and his shameless arrogance; you had loved him from your skin to your bones, never leaving his side, offering him a safe harbour from his private hell, stoking that cataclysmic fire, only to let it consume yourself with each passing day. He’d always been aware of that, in truth, he’d always felt the same about you, still, he had treated you like nothing more than one of his whores; afterall, it was just a matter of priority, and business was his one and only priority, obviously. So, when you had eventually presented him with a definitive choice, demanding to know  what your strange affair truly meant to him, he had almost laughed in your face, deliberately making it clear that, whatever that thing was, it would’ve never become something more.

The thought that in the end you might have really left him didn’t even remotely cross his mind, not once; nevertheless, barely a year later, you were about to marry another man, and it was too late for him to fix all of his uncountable mistakes. ❝  There will be another’s hands on her skin, Tommy. He’s gonna hold her, he’s gonna take your place, and it was your fault, you wreck everything you touch ❞ That voice inside his brain continued to scream that obnoxious truth with no mercy, steadily driving him to madness, violently gouging dire tears from his hollow eyes. Intoxicating fury festered his already rotten blood, pushing him to throw several raging punches at the door, excruciating shrieks kept escaping his maw, until two deep dents ploughed it and his bleeding knuckles broke under the abnormal strain of his animalistic blows.  Thomas surrendered to his agonizing sorrow, soon he let his empty corpse fall against the damaged wooden surface, his fractured fists henceforth laying along either side of his bust, while his growling voice didn’t seem to find peace, as it was still spilling from his lips into deafening cries alternated to beastly snarls and sporadic curses. Sure, Tommy Shelby had learnt far too soon what pain and darkness were, he had experienced death, loss, abandon, even the gory war itself, but never before that wretched day he had felt his soul disintegrate into his aching ribcage in such a diabolical, cruel, inhuman way.

tag list:  @spidey-pal, @shadow-of-wonder, @shelby1baby, @peachlle, @livvtheangel, @myjbphase, @namelesslosers, @crazyonesarethebest, @vxxn128, @keithseabrook27, @spaghettirogers, @writingstudent​

[thesolotomyhan]

Narcos México: Dating them would include: (4/7)

I low key feel so insecure because my headcannons be hella long, I’m so sorry in advance because I may have gotten carried away on this one😅. Enjoy!

Let me know if you want to be added on the tag list! ❤️

Tags: @fandomnerd16 , @visintaes

Warnings: NSFW!

Ramon:

My ramoncito is such a hot head and filled with heated emotions, impulsive if you may

You were the wrecking ball that crashed into his life when he first met you,,, but in a good way

At first, when he would try to talk to you, he would stutter his words out to you, his palms were sweating, and it suddenly felt like the room was 200 degrees,,, he was getting BEYOND frustrated with himself

He honestly doesn’t even know how he asked you out or even why you agreed to go on a date with him but either way it was the best thing he’s ever done

Ramon rambles on to no end about you when you’re dating, te presuma el cabrón

“Te lo juro, mi mujer está bien pinche guapa, mi muñeca es un ángel de Dios”

Ramon’s kisses are the literal definition of passion and lust, like wow

I just know Ramon would sneak up behind you to pick you up when you come visit him at his house,

You’re just talking to Enedina or something and next thing you know, you feel someone excitedly pick you up and twirl you around

“Mi princesa, que haces aqui?” Wow

The other thing that comes to dating Ramon is the need of patience from you, he’s not one to openly talk about his worries even if he trusts you with his whole heart

Every time Benjamin is worried about Ramon’s attitude, he’s calling you to come talk to him

Because you’re always successful in talking him through his doubts and anger issues,

all you have to do is bring his eyes to focus on you and soothe him with words until he can actually think straight

The puppy eyes he gives you when you tell him you love him with your alma and that it’s going to be ok🥺

Jesus, the sheer amount of gifts this man will give you is just out of this world

Like it’s not even a surprise anymore to his family when a truck load of roses and other fancy shit arrives one day, they’re all like, oh yeah Ramon’s going on a date with his novia, right?

He does it because he can’t get over the way your face lights up, it makes him feel proud that he’s the only one able to do that

Ice cream and antojito dates are a must, ok 🥺👉👈. , don’t look at me

He loves taking you to club dates too, like he’s the definition of “live life to its fullest”

That and because he’s just embobado with the way you dance and how close y’all would dance together

Like can you imagine, dancing to the beat of the music with your ass grinding up against his hips as like your reaching behind you to grab hold of his hair,, and his hands are on your hips— lord, Ramon fucking lives for that

“Mira lo duro que me haces sentir, princessa” ok- Let me leave before I get carried away

I just know, all the dates he takes you on are always fun and it’s where you both lose track of time

Soft!Ramon is what I live for, I can see after your dates end, he’s leaning his forehead on yours and smiling at you🥺

He can’t let go of you

, it makes him so fucking happy when he wakes up in the morning with you cuddling into him, it’s how he always wants to start his mornings

Look, Ramoncito seems like the one not looking for marriage or that soft shit like Benjamin.

but when it comes to you, his heart just fucking ruptures with passion and el amor verdadero, he can’t help it

He can’t even begin to think about even losing you to some cabrón, and him not being the one enjoying your presence

your the only one who has truly captured his heart without even trying and he never wants that feeling to go away, I’m sobbing

So he definitely fiddles and secretly looks into engagement rings👀 with the help of Enedina’s advice because we all know she would be so excited that Ramon found someone that makes him sane and truly loves him

“No la quiero perder, Dina, no se que haria sin ella”

I can’t, you make him so SOFT that even everyone in his family pitches in to help convince him propose to you- they love seeing you two together-

***overprotective***

Even if someone just looks at you the wrong way,; or for making a bad comment towards you,, he’s already 0-100 real quick and pulling his gun out

This man causes so much disruption because no hijo de la chingada is going to get away with disrespecting you

You know that once scene at Roxanne where Chapo and Cochi were bullying Francisco and then all hell broke loose,, yeah now imagine like Cochi trying to get a rise out of Ramon by “jokingly” catcalling you- oooop

“¿Cuándo vas a prestarme a tu vieja, Ramón? a lo mejor puedo chingarmela mejor que tú”

Oh no, no no no,, you’re already trying to grab Ramon’s arm as he does a full 180

Red, that’s all Ramon sees as he’s already swinging and hell breaks loose once again-

Even though Ramon would just love to kill Cochi right there for saying that, he can't, but he’ll get it one of these days 👀

Anyways-

Ramon loves to pick out outfits with you as well, he likes giving his opinion about which outfit would slap and would go along with his,

he wants to make people jealous about how hot Ramon’s mujer looks, like the fucking smug look he has on his face as he walks in with you

He has pride in how only he gets to touch you the way he can while others can only drool and watch from afar

Ramon is always having his hand resting on your waist or your ass, and you can’t tell me he would not give an occasional squeeze or slap to your ass, like this bastard would

Ramon would be one to have you sitting on his lap all the time with his arms wrapped around you, making you laugh as he lightly kisses your neck-

In the end, Y’all are just a fun af couple, attached to the hip and inseparable, I’m in love

NSFW:

Oooooohhhhh boy, does my man have SO many kinks, but we’ll get to that in a minute

He’s one to never turn down a blowjob from you, like the intense gaze he’ll give you as he sees you gagging on him

This man loves his pleasure, he’s desperately thrusting into your mouth as he lets out the loudest groans all the while tangling his hands in your hair- ok

Ramon fucking lives for seeing you in his bed

From the beginning where your smiling up at him, naked for him and pulling him down to get him to do something

To the end of the night when your whimpering and trembling after he’s done with you, like damn

The roughest sex happens with Ramon

I’m gonna say it…. Because it’s the truth

Ramon will eat you out until you can’t even speak right and your trying to weakly push him away

This mf will laugh into you as he forces your legs open and fingers you-

“Sé que puedes hacer uno más, solo uno más para mí bebé”

As he’s forcing you to look at him as he harshly rubs your sensitive clit-

Ramon has to see your facial expressions, he has them engraved into his memory and he also just loves seeing how he can make you feel, the way your soul leaves your body-

Jesus, this man is never fucking quiet, and that goes for you too, he hates seeing you trying to be quiet

“No te calles, no, dejen que nos escuchen”

He has a way of making you feel that he’s touching you everywhere and that, just by itself makes you lose control of yourself

-Overstimulation-

At the beginning, Ramon is setting a pace where he’ll try to go slow and hard at first because you can’t tell me that this man also loves soft sex 🥺

but damn, he can’t hold himself back, nopeeee, not right now with the way you’re desperately groping him and saying his name

Ramon starts to tear off your bra and panties because he feels like he’s going to explode if he’s not inside you in the next 2 seconds

You’ll pull him down to kiss him as he pushes into you, wow

God, his thrust game, his hand game, everything,, is just over the top

He’s not letting you catch your breath after your orgasm before he’s changing positions and pounding you again, not losing momentum

You’re literally shaking and begging him to stop from all the pleasure but you just go back to moaning as he picks up the pace,,,,

You’ll have tears of pleasure rolling down your checks as you feel him spread your legs even more, the emotions, I’m here for it

Ahem* my next point ,, choking kink, you know my man has one,

He has you laid out onto his bed beneath him as he adds a bit of pressure to your neck as he grips your hip with the other hand

Like shit, his fucking hand is so big, it just easily latches onto your neck-

Possessive af alright, he wants you to be screaming his name so it’s the only thing on your mind

He just needs to feel you and claim you all over again as his mujer

“Puto Cochiloco, hijo de su reputa madre, piensa que te puede hacer gritar como yo puedo”

you know he’s taking his frustration out on you after that encounter, he needs reassurance that only he can make you cum the way he can

Angry/Frustrated sex would be the only time he’ll let you roll your head back, because like wow, you’re always screaming his name out as you grip onto the bed frame

Fuck- when he’s thrusting from behind you, doggy style

He’ll pull your hair as he growls into your ear about who you belong to as he sneaks his hand in between your thighs again-

“Quien es tu papi?”-

And unlike Benjamin, he’s not one to hide your night of passion

He’s marking you up in the most visible fucking areas and always laughs when you scold him in the morning when your trying to cover them up

The Soft Sex, yeah, he only does that when he’s celebrating something with you, like either it’s your anniversary your birthday or something like that

The eye contact is a must in this situation, alright

He’s never looking away, like he’s looking up at you as he just devours your core and he holds your hands near your hips

Fuck, the softest but hardest thrusts as he grips your hip and lifts your leg to wrap around him

And this man still manages to give you multiple orgasms, doesn’t matter if it’s rough or the softest sex, he’s still doing it

overdosed on sex is what happens with Ramoncito

But he would be one to pepper kisses everywhere and praise how good you were for him-

The best feeling in the world for him is waking up to you sleeping on his chest with your clothes scattered all over the room- aight imma just head out

[dabblescrawl]

I Want Adult Problems - Part 7

Read Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

It hadn’t been easy for her to take on 4 young children, really she was barely an adult herself.  But they settled into their own sort of regimented routine, practices, events, school, homework, and play.  The routines were the only way she was able to stay with her head afloat.  Each Sunday they chose clothes for the week, each kid had a set of 5 day sliding drawers.  Kid showers at night, morning was reserved for herself.  Breakfast was on the table each day at 6:30, be there dressed.  She’d purchased one of those big calendar whiteboards and had Spooky mount it to the wall.  The calendar was also double checked each Sunday, if it wasn’t on the calendar 2 days ahead of time, the family wasn’t going.  When they got home, shoes came off, lunchboxes went on the counter, homework was done first, dinner, and then any left over time could be spent leisurely until the bedtime, bedtime determined by age.  These rules were the result of too many kids and not enough parents, but they made due and each day it seemed to get easier and they seemed comfortable with the move.  Everyone was pretty willing to do what was asked and as time went on routine was simply routine.

Spooky had intended on checking on her every day still and he tried but with their many activities it proved harder and harder to catch her when she wasn’t trying to do a million things at once.  Each time he did see her she looked happy but exhausted, but when he’d seen her in town today, picking up the team after practice snack she’d forgotten to make she’d looked down right worn out.  She’d smiled a small smile and listed off their agenda for the day as she forked over the money at the cash register.  She almost forgot to ask Spooky about his day before flying out the door, but realized just in time to turned around and ask him.  “Nothing much” he’d replied, “Have a good day” and off she’d run to the next thing.

She pulled up in her drive noticing Spooky’s car out front.  The kids had piled out of her car and started off towards the house.  “SHOES OFF, LUNCH BOXES ON COUNTER, HOMEWORK TO TABLE” she shouted after the pack of them as they tumbled towards the door.

Inside she found Spooky standing in the kitchen, grocery bags lining the counter except for his prep work space.  Cesar and his friends all sitting at the table with their work out.  She heard Cesar’s voice first, “Here man,” he slid down the bench making room for Diego, “Do you wanna come work with us?” Diego was overjoyed at the attention from the older boy and set right to work.  Meanwhile Maria had caught Jasmine’s eye who tapped the spot next to her and motioned to have a seat.  

“Welcome home,” Spooky spoke next as she took in the scene, “I just figured you might forget to feed them supper too” he smirked, trying to hide his caring gesture behind sarcasm.  She’d smirked back, and slapped his arm, “Pendejo!”

“NOT NICE, NOT NICE!” Julio shouted, jumping around the kitchen. 

“Si, NOT NICE” Spooky answered back.  She rolled her eyes playfully.  “It’ll be ready in about 40 minutes.” he said.

“Come on ese” she said waving her hand to Julio, “We’ll get you a bath then, you stink from practice,” she said playfully pinching her nose and making her way to the bathroom, the little dark haired boy bounding down the hallway after her.  Spooky couldn’t even pretend to hide his smile and Cesar pretended not to notice.

In no time at all the teens had Diego and Maria all caught up for their work and had cleaned the table off for dinner.  It had taken Julio about 30 seconds to get jealous of his siblings and try to race out of the bathroom without his clothes on.  She’d pulled him back in, forced him to wash all over for real, towel dry, and throw on some pajamas.  Ariel was next and though she hadn’t put up such a fuss she was eager to get back to the other kids. 

Coming back out to the main part of the house she found her living room full of kids playing cards, all five teenagers with the four excited siblings squished in between in a circle.  She’d taken a picture of them and leaned against the wall taking in the scene until her stomach growled.

Rolling off the wall she made her way to Spooky in the kitchen, “What can I help with?” she asked and he shook his head simply handing her a beer with the lime already inside.

The timer on the stove read 5 minute so instead of arguing she pulled out a stack of plates, silverware and cups.

“Mano, get those kids washed up.” He shouted.  

She and Spooky had grinned at each other watching them all traipse through the kitchen one after the other to wash their hands.  Cesar started the line handing off a plate to each kid, “Go see Spooky” he told each teen and kid alike in turn and then filled cups at request.

Dinner was a raucous affair with all 11 of them in the small kitchen.  The laughter seemingly nonstop and the shouts of each person trying to gain the upper hand for the center of the conversation only added to the chaos. 

When it was over, Jamal, Ruby, Jasmine, and Monse had all thanked Spooky for the food but been on their way to their own homes.  Only Cesar stuck around.  Playing the role of the perfect older cousin, Cesar had everyone, adults included, in the living round for another round of cards.  They played Slap Jack so even Julio and Ariel could join in.

At 7 the clock rang out and she called for bed for the youngest and showers for the oldest.  Julio, as always the little spitfire, had a meltdown and Cesar threw him over his shoulder to cart him to bed.  With full attention on himself, Julio decided to comply.  She circulated in the usual order and read Ariel her bedtime story before saying her prayers, then on to Julio, then to Maria who’d showered first and wanted to talk about the girls in her class.  And lastly on to Diego who was talking about his day with Cesar.  He idolized Cesar, after all he was only about 4 years older than Diego.

She’d gone to do last checks when Ariel asked if Spooky was still around.  Cesar had overheard.  On his way out the door for the night, probably to go see Monse, he told Spooky the kids wanted to say goodnight.  Spooky couldn’t admit yet how happy the idea of wishing kids goodnight and putting them to bed made him.  He wanted kids, even if that seemed like a bad idea as a Santo, he couldn’t shake wanting them. 

After making his own rounds Spooky followed her back into the main part of the house.  But when they entered the kitchen she stopped on a dime, her hands coming up to cover her face.  Spooky just behind her had barely avoided crashing into her.  Just as quickly as she stopped she turned and threw her left arm over his shoulder pulling him down to her while also using it to raise her own face. Her right hand coming to rest on the crook of his neck just over his tattoo.  And she’d kissed him, with purpose and zeal, not timidly.  As seemed to be the norm these days, it took him a beat to realize what was happening and respond, putting his own long held passion into the kisses.

A beat or two later she’d pulled away and stepped back, her hands returning to her face.  “Sorry, sorry! I just, the whole night and then dishes…” she trailed off shaking her head and raising her hands in the air, “I had to thank you!”

Spooky smiled slowly, moving forwards towards her, “Do you always thank people like that?” he asked lightly.

“No” she laughed back, “Just you!” bringing her eyes to cover her embarrassed face once more.

“You can thank me anytime” he replied, cupping her cheek and pulling her back in for another bout of kisses filled with emotion.

When they pulled away the second time, breathless, she stared into his eyes a few moments before she shrugging, “I mean I guess I still have to make lunches, everybody’s so particular.” 

She started towards the counter, pulling out the snack and drink bins on her way to the fridge.  Spooky followed closely, he wasn’t willing to give up these moments just yet.  Settling behind her at the counter, he pulled himself flush against her, grabbed her hips and leaned down to place small kisses on her neck before resting his chin there, “Show me Mami, I’ll do it next time. Can’t wait to find out what kind of thank you that earns” he flirted, holding her close.