I Keep Thinking About An Arranged Marriage With Simon. Maybe It’s For A Mission Or Something That Benefits

Just perfect 😩😩

Tuesday Thots - Study Session

Pairing: Alpha!Professor Bucky Barnes x Omega!Female Reader x Alpha!Professor Hal Carter

Word Count: Almost 940

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, cockwarming, dirty talk, possessive behavior, a/b/o dynamics, alpha!professors Bucky and Hal (they’re warnings, okay?)

A/N:  Our thot for 10/26/21 belongs to alphas and professors Bucky and Hal. @book-dragon-13 , this one is for you since I know how much you appreciate these men. Not beat read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by @its-just-may . Moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications as I no longer do taglists. Please reblog or comment if you feel inclined!

“Concentrate, omega. Make me proud. Make Hal proud.”

Keep reading

Simon is aware of his size.

Ever since he’d shot up a foot and began towering over his teachers in school, he’d grown used to the surprised looks and stares that sometimes followed his large stature.

It wasn’t something that bothered him. Honestly, it came with too many advantages for him to care whether it led to more eyes on him in public spaces or having to duck through shorter entry ways.

It wasn’t something he spent much time thinking about either. He was just tall, all there was to it.

Until you came into his life.

Until suddenly the size difference between you two wasn’t just something that wandering eyes would notice, but apparently something to be envied.

He notices the way other women keep stealing glances over at the two of you, as Simon effortlessly lifts you in his arms, sometimes holding you up against a large muscular shoulder, as you reach to pick the best looking apples off the branches at the orchard. Those women are fidgeting with their baskets as their partners attempt to climb short ladders and shake loose some of the fruit, unaware to the way their ladies are all imagining what it would be like to be in your place right now.

He notices the way a young woman in the grocery store blatantly stares at the way he casually plucks the jar off the very top shelf that you had been straining on tip toes to reach. He drops it into your shopping cart with a smile, watching as the woman’s gaze shifts to the difference in your hands as he interlocks his fingers through yours.

Even you can’t help but to notice the way a group of mums giggle and swoon as your mountain of a man casually untangles the bunch of balloons that had gotten caught in a tree, returning it to the young boy who was celebrating his birthday party in the park you two had been strolling through.

Oh yes, Simon’s large size came with an endless list of advantages.

But the very best parts of his stature, the toe-curling, heart-racing, slick producing advantages to his size, well, those were kept between you, him, and your bedsheets.

“Magic Doesn’t Pay the Bills”: Walt Disney World Workers March Near Park, Demand “A Fair Wage”

The Services Trades Council Union (STCU), which is a coalition of six unions representing close to 42,000 WDW cast members, is negotiating a new contract with Disney this week. The old agreement , which expired October 1, raised the minimum wage from $10 to $15.

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It's my 2 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

I don't know which version I like more

I call if I only coughed one day 🤷🏿‍♀️

the checkup

summary: your regular doctor wasn’t in the day of your checkup, so you proceeded your appointment with his fill in…

cw: hospital sex

word count: 2.5k

you weren’t really the type that would go to get a check up every month, but you decided last week that it needed to change. you called the hospital and made an appointment for the man that’s been your doctor since you were in high school, dr. zeke, and made sure it was on a day you were absolutely free so you weren’t late.

when the day came you threw on some calm clothes before driving over to the nearby hospital for your checkup. as you parked your car, you put in one of your airpods and called your friend sasha on facetime since you knew it was a hit or miss when it came to waiting room time. “sup hoe” she mumbled, her phone set up at her vanity while she did her makeup. “sup biatch i’m finna check in real quick” you said before approaching the front desk. “hi what can i do for ya!” the overly happy lady at the desk asked. “m’here for my appointment. y/n l/n?” the woman gave you a small nod while searching you up on her computer to check you in. “you’re here for dr. zeke correct?” you nodded your head. “he’s not in today, but we can put you in for another doctor if that’s okay with you”

why would they not call you to let you know that? you would've been said no and not wasted gas to get here. you didn’t let the annoyance reach your face as you gave the lady a half smile before speaking. “and how long will be take?” the lady looked at her screen again? probably looking at how many other patients were under the replacement. “hmmm not long at all. there’s only one person ahead of you” you nodded your head before telling the lady you’ll take it. as you waited in your chair, you and sasha talked about random things to pass the time.

“yea he was real fine too. short hair, tattoos all over his body, strong arms, and the sexiest grills i ever seen on a man. and his accent? y/nnn i wanted to him furreal.” you giggled as you listened to your friend drool over this mysterious bartender she met a couple nights ago. “did you get his number or anything?” you asked. sasha gave you a “duhh” look before holding up a napkin with digits on it. “you know i had t’get that numberrrrr. can’t hold it in the camera too long tho. ion want you to try n steal em” you rolled your eyes as sasha threw the napkin back in her vanity drawer.

“miss l/n?” you lifted your head towards the last peeking in the waiting room. “that’s me” you said, standing up before you approached the women. “aight sash i gotta go.” you mumbled before hanging up the phone. the woman had you fallow her to one of the empty rooms, letting you sit down and get yourself situated before speaking. “okay so m’just gonna check your breathing, hearing, and sight. along with your blood pressure s’that okay?” you nodded your head, letting the women do her job without complaint. when she finished she grabbed her clipboard and headed out the room, telling you the doctor would be there shortly before exiting.

it was only about a five minute wait before your eyes were graced with a beautiful sight. dr. zeke has always been handsome to you, but the man before you right now quickly put him in the back of your mind. “hi, i’m dr. onyankopon jackson. you can call me dr. o, dr. j, dr. oj, it really don’t matter t’me as long as you comfortable.” this man had to be no more than two or three years older than you, fresh taper fade on his head, and shiny clear glasses that sat beautifully on his big nose. “miss? miss you alright” he said, genuine concern adorning his features as his dark brown eyes looked you over repeatedly.

you finally snapped out of your trance, sitting up straighter on the exam table as you gave the doctor a shy smile. “y-yea m’fine dr. o, just a little tired” you said, making his concern deepen as he began to approach you. “hmm, you been getting good sleep lately ms. l/n?” you shook your head as he pulled a small light from the front pocket of his lab coat, getting a good look at your pupils with the light before going to his clipboard to right something down. “you can call me y/n by the way. that’s what i’d prefer” he turned towards you and gave you a small smile. his pearly white teeth shining in the light of the room before he spoke. “okay y/n. i see you’re here for a checkup” he spoke as he read from the his clipboard. “you been having any pain anywhere?"

now where you really having any pains? no. you were healthy as a horse, but he didn’t know that and you didn’t want to leave too early, so ofc course you lied. “been having a little pain in my neck” you said, dragging it further by whimpering a little as you rubbed the back of your “pained” area. dr. o got right up from his seat, making his way to you before lightly touching your neck with his gloved hands. right at the bottom of his glove you think you saw a hint of ink on his skin, but he was moving too fast for you to see it. “right here?” he asked, his deep voice already sending shivers down your spine. dr. o noticed this, smirking behind you as he continued feeling out the back of your neck for any lumps or bruises.

“mhmm right there” you breathed out. your voice accidentally letting your neediness slip from the feeling of his strong hands on your neck. you don’t know if he worked out or what, but the feeling of his hands were making you melt. “how this feel?” he mumbled before running two fingers from your neck all the way down your spine to your lower back. “feels like you got the wrong job. need to be a masseur.” a hearty chuckle rumbled from his broad chest as dr. o continued you run his fingers along your spine. “i’ll take it into consideration. would you book me?” his voice was like butter, so smooth and deep as he slowly moved his hands from your back. “definitely”

dr. o chuckled before making his way to the front of the exam table. “can you stand up f’me” you did as he said, getting down from your seat on the table before looking to him for your next directions. “try slowly turning your head from side t’side. if you feel any discomfort let me know.” you gave him a quiet “kay” before turning your neck from left to right then up and down. “i was gon say for you t’do that next, but you beat me too it. good girl, maybe you got the wrong job too” your stomach got butterflies from the praise. making you have to use all your strength to mask the fact that you were going crazy over this man. dr. o moved behind you touching your neck and back again to see if there were any changes from when you were sitting down to now.

“kay now bend over f’me. touch your toes if y’can” your palms were sweating now, making you have to repeatedly wipe them on your leggings before you bent over, touching your toes just like he said. you didn’t miss the small “damn” that left his mouth at the sight of your red thong showing through the thin fabric of your leggings. he once again had his big strong hands on your back, moving up towards your neck from behind you. as he reached the top of your neck you began to feel something hard poking your ass. “uhh doctor?” you said in a small voice, pulling dr. o out of his trance before he replied. “yes ma'am?”

“do you have something in your pocket?” his eyes slowly went from your ass to his pants, his hard on fighting the fabric of his black slacks just from the look of your body. he knew what he was about to do was very unprofessional and could probably cost him his job, but he just couldn’t resist any longer. “no” he said before pushing himself into you. his big gloved hands grabbing your hips to keep you from falling before the doctor began grinding his dick into your clothed pussy. a moan flew from your mouth at the contact, making your hand instantly fly to your mouth to keep from someone hearing. “y’know, ion think anything on your body hurts at all, but i can fix that. you want the doctor t’fix it?” as he spoke, your arousal started to flood your panties, quickly soaking them as well as your thin leggings. dr. o noticed this, smirking before slowly turning you around to face him.

“y-yes” you whispered, earning you a small kiss on the lips before he picked you up and placed you back on the table. “lay down f’me, there’s a spot ian get t’check yet” as soon as you laid down his gloved fingers were in the waistband of your leggings, yanking them down so he could get a better look at your panty clad pussy. “i jus know she’s pretty just from seeing her soak up like this” he mumbled before leaning down and giving it a sloppy kiss. the fabric of your panties getting even more soaked as he tongue kissed your clit through it. “o-ohh my goshh dr. o pleasee” you whimpered, your hands flying to his hair as you pushed his face deeper into you. he looked up at you, moving back so he can undo his belt with one hand and remove your soaked panties with the other. “you can call me ony princess. we more than well acquainted now” he said with a smirk before pulling your body towards him by your thighs. ony freed his dick from his boxers, the sight of it making your eyes widen. this man was packing. he smiled at your surprise, teasing you a little by rubbing it up and down your already sensitive pussy.

“i don’t have a condom” you leaned up towards him, your lips centimeters away from his as you caressed the nape of his neck. “put it in, we’re more than well acquainted now” your big brown eyes blown with lust as ony gave you a devilish grin. without another word he sunk deep into you, dick already filling you up and he was only halfway in. “you can take the whole thing can’t you ma?” you nodded your head, crashing your lips into his to muffle your moans as ony shoved the rest of his inches inside of you. he didn’t stop there, pounding you repeatedly without giving you any time to adjust, the stinging stretch of him bringing tears to your eyes.

“i know mama, but i’m a busy man. got another appointment in thirty minutes.” he continued to fuck you deeply, wrapping his gloved hand around your throat while having you suck the fingers over his other. the latex taste spreading all over your tongue as your drool began to drip from your lips to your shirt. “sloppy little mouth you got. wish i had enough time t'put it to work” you whined before slowly releasing his fingers with a pop, your pussy fluttering around his dick from the thought of him fucking your throat. “i can always come back for another check up” you said in a breathless tone, making ony smile before he quickly started picking you up by your thighs. “s’much as i would love that. i think i rather have you in my bed”

a smile would’ve graced your features if you werent getting fucked so good right now. you settled for a quick nod as ony continued to bounce your body and and down his dick. he gave you a few more strokes before putting you down. quickly turning you around and bending you over the table before sliding right back in. before you could scream, ony’s latex covered hand surrounded your lips. his palm muffling your cries as he quickly pounded away at your pussy. your clit rubbed repeatedly on the leather of the table as his strong thrusts would jerk your body back and forth. “you on the pill mama? don’t want you coming in here for different types of checkups” he said, smiling as he watched you quickly nod your head yes. you were eager for this man to cum in you. “good girl” ony groaned before picking up his pace, dick twitching repeatedly inside of you as he felt his release on the tip of his tongue. you were right there with him too, the double stimulation of your clit and g spot finally getting to you as you clenched tightly around his dick. “i feel it ma. let it out f’me” a shiver ran down your spine at his words, your final scream muffled from his hand as you shook and squirted all over his pants. the feeling of his cum filling you soon came after as the two of you caught your breath.

“you good?” he asked, turning your head towards him so he can check on you. there was a lazy smile on your lips as you looked up at him with glossy eyes. “feel so much better now, thank you doctor” ony mirrored your smile, his pretty teeth making your stomach do flips before he spoke “my pleasure”. as the two of you got dressed and fixed yourselves up, he removed his wet gloves and made sure to put that you were feeling great on his chart before handing you a paper to show that you’ve been taken care of. “aha! i knew you had tattoos. how old are you anyways.” you said as you looked at his ink filled hands.

ony looked up at you from his seat, smiling as he took off his lap coat and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. there were tattoos running up and down his arms and even some peeking at you from his collar. “got some on my chest too, but you just gon have to come over to see, and i’m twenty six” like you thought, he was older than you. a smile graced your features as you limped to the door, giving the man an annoyed look as he laughed. “you look like you might actually need a doctor now” you rolled your eyes at his teasing before straightening yourself up and walking as normal as you could out of the room.

as you made it to your car, you realized that you didn’t ask for ony’s phone number. “fuck” you breathed as you glanced towards the paper he signed before giving you. ‘maybe if i search up his name i can find his insta or sum’ you thought as you picked up the paper only to find that you wont be needing to do any of that. there in big red ink read his name and number with a little note at the bottom.

ony 347-***-****

‘call me when you need another checkup’

The US and UK are now bombing Yemen because the country had the courage to fight for Palestine and stop the genocide by targeting the ships on the sea that provides weapons to Israel. The cruelty of the US is immeasurably evil and petty because this is also the same empire that backed the UAE/KSA coalition that bombarded Yemen and starved the people forcing the children to suffer from malnutrition for years and now decides to bomb the same country again so Israel can continue unabated in committing genocide and ethnic cleansing.

CW: 18+ MDNI, loan shark!price x reader part 1, fem!reader, afab!reader, noncon elements, manipulative price, implied violence (not reader), petting, almost(?) fingering - 3K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune massive thank you to @pricetagged for keeping me sane writing this

“Mr. Price-” you spoke up, fingers massaging into your temples. 

“Said you can call me John, Sweetheart.” the man interjected with a serious look. 

He was currently hanging your entire life over your head and he knew it, you most certainly were not going to call him by his first name. Noticing your reluctance, he shrugged and leaned back into your dining room chair.

“Look, I’ve been as kind as a man like me ought to be. Don’t know how much longer I can shoulder the loss, and I don't know how much longer you-” He sent a condescending look of concern your way, a hand fishing into his pocket. “-can take the fees. I’m playing the good guy here, y’gotta pay up, lovie.” 

“No smoking inside.” you warned, voice less confident than you would have liked it to be.

His hand paused in his coat before slipping out and up in a sign of surrender.

There was a buzzing silence between the two of you, only interrupted by the occasional tick of your kitchen clock. It was hard to meet his gaze, eyes rooted downwards towards your table under the weight of your rising debt to one of the most notorious men in the city.

“Right then.” he huffed, palms coming down to rest on the table before twitching upwards. “So?” 

“Give me another month to pull something together.” you spoke, wincing when you caught the way his eyebrows quirked in surprise. “-Please?”

There was no telling a man like John Price what would be happening. He was the shot caller, the unequivocal card dealer, it was only by some higher grace that he let your ill manners slip. 

He grumbled for a moment before looking up. “I respect what you’ve got going on in the shop, I do. Lovely place, good atmosphere—we’re both the entrepreneurial type, so to say I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for you-” the thought that he’d lump your small shop in with his exploitative business made your stomach turn. “-but this is a bit much, yeah? Let’s give it up, sweetheart.” 

Your face twisted into a sharp grimace, but that was all you could do—what right did you have to tell the man whose money you were living off of to get out of your house? Even worse, you hated that he had a point; you were so tired of your lackluster sales and mounting bills, but-

“I’m not the only owner, I-I can’t just make decisions like that.” you reasoned.

He looked incredibly unimpressed, nostrils flaring with a dissatisfied huff. “Right, your business partner.” 

“H-he-”

“If it’s what you want, m’sure he’ll understand,” Mr. Price hummed, eyes narrowing. “I think you’ll find my men and I can be quite persuasive.” 

Registering your cautious demeanor, his lips curled upwards.

“Where is the bloke anyway?” John asked in faux-disinterest, disapproval blooming from his tone. “Always sends you to talk to the big mean lender. S’not right.” 

He shook his head and sighed.

“-Seen this play out before, love. He’s throwing you under the bus.” 

Your mouth shut, hard set into a frown—you knew he was right. Your business partner was most likely enjoying his morning in peace knowing it was your apartment above the building—your life about to be uprooted if it all went tits-up. It was hard not to feel played.

Mr. Price’s gaze glimmered in recognition, and slowly, like a languid predator, he was leaning across the table with a large hand over your own. 

You studied the sparse dusting of translucent hair on his fingers, the trimmed nails at the ends of his stocky fingers, his nice, expensive-looking watch—anything not to meet his eyes. 

“S’not worth it,” he urged softly. “spreading yourself thin like this.” he paused to think. “My advice? Liquidate, I'm sure you and I can work something out in the long term.”

You swallowed, throat feeling impossibly dry as you focused on the twitch of his thumb.

“I’ll think about it.” 

“I don’t want to be the bad guy, but business is business, sweetheart—I’m offering you a hand, it’s in your best interest to take it.” he spoke, palm patting over your digits before withdrawing into his pocket. There was a deep breath drawn in through his lips. “Right, I’ll be off then—Unless you want me over for lunch?” 

He chuckled deeply in solus as he stood, reminding you of a proud and awful beast. “Maybe another time then, love.” 

Ideally not.

-

The shop had closed on another unnoteworthy day, only serving to further hammer in Mr. Price’s point. With defeated footfall on the stairs up to your flat, you nearly slipped, shocked by a fist beating on the front door frantically. You slowly turned around, heart pounding from the sound.

“-Christ! Let me in!” Ewan, your business partner cried out from the other side of the threshold.

You hurried to the door; pushed aside as soon as the lock had released.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” you scolded over the shop door’s welcome chime. You were met without response while the man darted for the till. “What are you-”

“Not now,” he growled. “we need to get out of here.” 

Studying him closer, you realized one of his arms had been held up by a makeshift sling, tucked neatly beneath his quilted coat.

“W-what are you talking about?”

He paused, looking up. 

Your eyes widened when the light from the street outside washed over his face. 

“What happened to you?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” he snarled, freshly dried blood crusting at the movement. His head dipped down as he popped open the till. “Price and his dogs want our heads.” 

“I just spoke to him this morning-” 

“Things change—may have pushed our luck a little too far. We’ve got to get out of town.” 

You frowned “I-I can’t just-” 

“Suit yourself.” he snapped, voice dropping to a mumble while his fingers grabbed at whatever they could, stuffing it into his coat pocket haphazardly. “-Sitting duck.”

“Wait—that's our money.” you balked, watching the empty register drawer shut. He offered you a bloody, tight-lipped smile as he sped past you towards the door; in and out like a typhoon.

“Good luck.”

You were stuck where you stood when the door swung shut, absolutely beside yourself in shock as you watched his figure disappear from view into the night. Looking around your shop, it was just as it had been when you closed up, but the knowledge that you were sitting on an empty till, all alone with the looming threat of a less-than-savory money lender finding out you were back to square one for your upcoming payment was not kind as it crashed into you. 

After a sobering moment, you hobbled over to the point of sales, turning the drawer’s lock tentatively. Of course, the tray was as empty as the day you had bought it, save for a spare coin roll shoved into the side. You stared down at the dark plastic, hand clumsily digging into your pocket for your phone. Swiping at the device, you paused, debating for a moment over whether or not to open the banking app; you already knew what you’d see if you did.

Confirming your fears, the log showed a hefty transaction at the branch earlier that day. The account had been emptied right before the banks closed. 

You had nothing to give John Price.

It was all gone.

You stared at your feet while it sunk in. Slowly, you regained the ability to move, making your way over to the shop door and locking it back up before spinning on your heels. The trip upstairs was eerily silent as you slipped into your flat, legs wobbling as you ambled into your washroom and stepped under the hot stream from your showerhead. You let the water run over you for far longer than necessary, only stepping out onto the frigid tile once your fingers had pruned. 

The dinner prep that followed had gone surprisingly smooth, serving as a vessel to pretend the foundation of your life wasn't crumbling away. You replayed comforting thoughts, words passing through your mind like a liferaft just out of reach– you knew Mr. Price, he always spoke gently to you, he would understand, he-

A fat tear fell onto the hand that braced you over the stove, watching the bubbling pasta through bleary eyes. With a shaking grip, you drained the water and slipped the noodles into your saucepan, stirring and sniffling lamely.

You made too much—you had nothing to give and you had made too much. Typical.

Sitting at your table, you ate in near-silence, listening to your clock’s soft ticking as you tried to ignore the afterburn image of Mr. Price across from you where he had sat that morning.

Your fork paused mid-air when the downstairs shop chime rang out. 

Had Ewan come to his senses? 

You closed your eyes and waited for him to call up to you. 

The stark sound of heavy footfall bustling around the lower level was the first thing to alert you to the intrusion—too much noise for one man. Setting down your fork, you stared owlishly at the door to your flat as if it was the last line of defense between you and whatever was happening down there. Through the muffled commotion, you could faintly make out the creak of your stairs getting louder—closer, you watched helplessly as the knob slowly turned.

The door opened a fraction, a thick hand curling around the side to brace it against the three thunderous knocks that echoed throughout the room.

“Come in.” you spoke up once your heartbeat had evened out, blinking as Mr. Price emerged from the dark stairway.

“Mmh, you’re here.” he stared down at you, a pleased rumble rolling around in his chest. “‘Course you didn’t skip town, smart. Good girl.”

He kicked his boots off and drifted through your kitchen; cabinets and drawers clattering behind you while he whistled breathily, dishing up some pasta as if you had made it for him—you do suppose he had every right to, though. 

Your whole body tensed as a palm ghosted across your back. The plate was set down, and the chair beside you was tugged out from beneath the table. 

Your eyes darted to his dish where it sat, steam trailing fragrantly. Mr. Price tucked in, humming lowly despite his tense demeanor. 

“S’good, Love. eat up.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed your fork, gaze falling back to your dish as you picked at the food, appetite long gone. Once again, it was you, Mr. Price, and the sounds of your kitchen—an unwelcome sense of Deja Vu creeping in. 

“Your money’s gone.” you whispered, unable to stand the silence.

He reached towards you, grabbing your napkin, and patting his mouth. “I know.” he scratched at his beard idly. “My boys are dealing with that.” 

You paled, trying not to think about what would happen to your business partner as you watched Mr.Price fuss with his fork, leaning in to take another large bite; a nauseated feeling washing over you. 

“What's going to happen to me?” you murmured, eyes downcast. 

His fork clattered quietly against his plate as his hand came to rest on the back of your neck, thumb petting at your nape. “That’s what I'm here to sort out, sweetheart.” 

Sort out. It was ugly, spoken as if you were just one of his assets. You nodded; compliance met with a soft, affirming squeeze. 

“We can work something out.” his hand traveled downwards, grazing your arm before landing on the meat of your thigh. “I don’t have to be the bad guy.” 

“Mr. Price..” you spoke after a sharp breath, tears threatening to well up. 

You missed the way his eyes crinkled at your weepy tone, thumb brushing your thigh in comfort. 

“I’ve had my eye on you, love—Would have never lent you as much as I did if I wasn't sweet on you. Thought maybe I’d be able to charm my way into your life but it seems like I only see you when you’re late on a payment.” he laughed hoarsely. A knee knocked into yours as he stood; his chair scraping beneath him. The floor creaked under bulk, two large hands coming to rub at your arms with hot breath and trimmed beard tickling at your ear. “-I’m a hopeless romantic, y’see.” 

“Price!” a voice hollered up, causing the man to straighten with a low growl. 

“What?” he barked, voice aimed downstairs.

“Trucks loaded up, gonna head back to the office, yeah? See if Simon needs any help retrieving the cash.” 

His hands flexed around your shoulders. “Good, lock up behind yourself. I’ll be a bit.”

You froze, looking up to see the looming shadow of a man; profile distinct in the low light. He turned to you, offering a tight grin while a wayward hand trailed from your arm to your neck, caressing the skin as he exhaled deeply behind you, resting your head against his abdomen. 

“It’s okay to give in, love.” he cooed. “Let me take care of it all.” 

You had nearly folded when that little prey animal in your brain stiffened, hackles raising. You stood carefully, sidestepping his grasp.

“No, I-I… I couldn’t impose… It’s alright.” you silently begged for him to understand your polite refusal.

“S’not imposing,” he challenged, glaring down at you. “imposing would be the number of zeroes on the sum you owe me—now you care about my burden?”

“That’s-”

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart.” he laughed. “Now, sit back down.”

You complied, lowering back into the seat shamefully.

“Good.” he exhaled, crouching beside you with hands knotted together. “I always collect what’s owed, that’s one thing you need to understand.” 

You nodded.

“-But I’m not opposed to shouldering burdens where personal interest is involved.” His eyes searched your own desperately, palms unfurling to rest back on your legs. “You understand what I'm saying, yeah? You’ll never pay it off alone, let me help. I could take care of you.”

Overwhelmed, you turned away; the grip on your thighs tightening in response as he braced himself, standing up. A warm hand cradled your cheek as he drew your gaze upwards, free hand looping around your back and lifting you to stand against him like a marionette. 

“I don’t know what to do…” you sniffled as his big palm had begun to rub circles into your back. 

He shushed you. “-It’s okay, love. I can handle it, It’ll be okay.”

You nodded, turning and rubbing your face into his shirt as he comforted you. The entire situation was a disorienting experience. Had you done something so wrong to get here?– had it been a crime to want to live a gentle and quiet life in your shop? 

It was hard to care much for your sense of conviction when the root of your problem looked more like a finely woven cradle; what did it matter if you were to bend the knee to your devil’s appeal at this point? 

Still, it felt as if you were teetering on the edge of a cliff.

“I’m scared.” your lips settled for, hiccuping the words into his chest. 

He hummed thoughtfully, the noise buzzing around the walls of your head as his thick arms hooked around your neck, pulling you in deeper—a trap set without any fuss. 

“It’s okay for you to be scared,” he pressed a kiss to your crown. “There’s no way anyone was getting out of those rates you agreed to, love. Let me help you.”

You stiffened, head raising slowly to look at him. He smiled down at you.

“You definitely won’t be taking care of our finances, yeah?” John joked, letting out a deep, phlegmy laugh before he pecked your nose, pulling you back into his chest and rumbling against your head. “Enough nonsense. You’re tired, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

It was all so domestic—like he hadn’t just shown you his rows of jagged, shark-like teeth. 

His grip relented as he patted your bum. “Go on and get into bed, let me clean up dinner.”

-

So you did, brushing your teeth and feeling incredibly confused as to why you were readily complying. What truly got to you was how tender it felt—had you been so oblivious to his vying interest? You had just assumed he was a rare good-natured lender; though, you suppose neither of these had been true.

John Price was not a good man; although it was a recent revelation in the grand scheme of things, you knew this as a fact now. The other fact of the matter was that it seemed you were most likely the real collateral in the vulturine deal. Had he been playing the long game?

You could hear John floating around in the other room as you pulled an old shirt over your head to sleep in—the kitchen faucet running as you slipped into your bed. It all felt so wrong. 

Your eyes shot open when the bedroom’s aged floor creaked, deer-like paralysis keeping you snapshot-still as the ring of his belt buckle filled the static air. Was he—The rickety bed dipped behind you under John’s added weight, bedframe crying out with every shift of his body that came with tucking himself against you; achy grunts blowing out from his lips.

“Not as limber as I used to be.” he laughed modestly. “Still gets the job done though, I reckon.” 

He breathed for a moment before his nose dipped into the hair at your nape, sniffling around. 

“-Better than I imagined.” he grumbled contently.

Thick hands dipped under your shirt, massaging at the skin momentarily before slipping into your panties, tugging them out of the way. 

“Mr. Price.” you winced, feeling his cold hand on the sensitive skin.

his hands paused as the large man thought for a moment.

“Mrs. Price…” he chuckled after a beat, the hairs on your neck standing up in response. “-See? You don’t like it much, either. Now, what’s my name, love?”

“John.” you mumbled quietly, eyes darting around through the dark of your room.

“Mmh. good girl.” he hummed, hand cupping your cunt and thumbing at it absentmindedly. “Sleep, love. Big day tomorrow, yeah?” 

Reblog if you’re bisexual, support bisexual people or are actually a bunch of tiny velociraptors in a human suit

Every black girl is so pretty

*reblog if you agree*