Harry's Home

im actually sitting here crying in my bed at 23:00

he did it

bro finally someone who understands 😩

Forgot for a second how hot richard madden was but praise be to god a gif of his fine self just blessed my dash... i am bi of sexual indead

When you see it, REBLOG IT.

Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696

Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433

LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255

Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386

Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743

Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438

Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673

Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272

Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000

Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253

If you ever want to talk: My Tumblr ask is always open.

this 😩

another angst that I thought of 😭😭😂 what if y/n has a huge ass crush on harry and she's very open about it and would always call him/introduce him as "my future boyfriend" but then she overheard harry talking bad about her behind her back so she was all sad and mopey

shore!

(this is an au btw)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s exhausting sometimes, mate. Like she doesn’t have an off switch. She acts like my girlfriend in front of all our friends. It’s embarrassing!”

You’d come into Harry’s room to see if he wanted to order takeout and study for their econ test together, but you paused right before you knocked on his door.

He was embarrassed? Sure, it wasn’t a secret that you were into him. He was cute, he was smart, he was kind to his mom, he was that typical “boy next door” type, and when you met him at the first residence hall meeting, you were smitten.

You weren’t the shy type, so you went over and introduced yourself to him and his friends, compared schedules for the Fall semester, and when you realized you and Harry shared a class, you couldn’t have been happier.

That was a year ago. You were in your second year of university, and you were still dorm neighbors, still ended up having a class together. You and Harry were inseparable, but it wasn’t one sided. He knocked on your door too, asking if you wanted to go to office hours with him or if you wanted to join him for dinner. Just the two of you.

You weren’t sure when the jokes started, it just kind of happened. One time when you were at a party with all of your friends, you introduced yourself to someone as “Harry’s future girlfriend,” and no one batted an eye, not even Harry. He just laughed—not in a mean way—and ruffled your hair. You didn’t see that as him telling you to stop, so you didn’t, and then everyone was in on it. Your friends asked about your “boyfriend” and his greeted you as “H’s girlfriend.” it was all harmless, and it didn’t go much farther beyond a couple pet names and the occasional tap on the nose, but you never would’ve done any of that if you knew Harry was uncomfortable. You had a crush, you weren’t totally unreasonable, but he clearly thought you were.

Unable to help yourself, you stayed a little longer by Harry’s door to hear what else he had to say about you.

“I tried to ask out this girl from our history class today, and she called me an ass because she knew I had a girlfriend! I mean, come on, mate when does it end?”

Now, it ends right now, you thought. You’d done these things because you liked Harry and you thought he maybe liked you too, but that clearly wasn’t the case. You suddenly felt this feeling in the pit of your stomach. Like all the butterflies you got when he smiled at you died one by one.

If Harry didn’t like you, then he should’ve said something. Perhaps him not saying something was his idea of him expressing dislike, but you honestly thought he was okay with all the jokes and flirting. But he wasn’t, and he couldn’t say it to your face. Instead, he hid in his room and ranted about it to a friend when he could’ve just talked to you about it. You weren’t an unreasonable person, if he’d kindly stated his discomfort, you would’ve apologized and ended the whole thing there. You would’ve been a little embarrassed and bummed that he didn’t like you back, but you could move on from that. But you didn’t like people who talked behind your back, and you could be very petty to people who did.

Turning on your heel, you decided to eat dinner and study on your own. A single tear slipped out, but you quickly wiped it away. Harry wasn’t worth crying over.

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

“You didn’t wait for me this morning.”

Looking up from where you were checking your emails on your computer, you saw Harry standing by your desk, his backpack over one shoulder. He had two to-go cups of coffee in his hands, one of which he set down your desk. You peeked at the label stuck to it, a chai latte with two shots of espresso. Your favorite.

“I had a question for the Dr. Marshall,” was your reply. It was a lie, but you didn’t want to tell him you’d been avoiding him since you overheard his phone call the other day.

“Oh. Well, are we still on for lunch and homework in the library? I have this psych paper that is absolutely kicking my ass—"

"I can't today," you said, cutting him off. Normally you'd jump at the opportunity to spend one-on-one time with him, but now you feared the next time you had to be alone with him. You couldn't just turn your feelings for him off, but you couldn't really stand to be around him, either. You didn't know how to act around him anymore.

"Uh...Okay, I guess I'll see you at the party on Friday? You're still going to that, right?"

"Yeah, I am," you said, but what Harry didn't know was that you wouldn't be going with him.

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

"I don't know what to do, Mel! I still like him, but he clearly can't stand me. But then he keeps asking to hang out at the library or to get lunch, and—and—and it drives me insane!"

You were in your dorm with your roommate Mel. She'd agreed to walk with you a couple blocks off campus to a party at some junior's house after the football game tonight. She had been confused as to why you weren't going with your "future boyfriend," and since you hadn't told anyone about what you'd overheard the other day, it kind of just came pouring out of you.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Mel said.

“Like, I know he doesn't like me that way, but I thought if I was affectionate around him or something, I could convince him.”

“You can't Pavlov him into liking you, Y/n,” your roommate said, trying not to laugh.

“Obviously,” you muttered. Looking up at Mel, you asked her seriously, “Am I crazy?”

Mel joined you on your bed, letting you rest your head on her shoulder. “You’re not crazy, Y/n. You have a crush, and unlike most people, you weren’t shy about it. If Harry didn't like it, he should've said something at the beginning. I bet he liked the attention.”

You hummed. She had a point. Harry never told you to stop the flirting, otherwise you would've. You liked him, but you didn't want to play a game you knew you were going to lose.

“Sometimes I got the feeling he actually liked me too, you know? But now I just can't stop hearing how he said I embarrassed him.”

“Would you forgive him if he apologized? Go out with him?” she asked.

“Mmm. I think it would have to be a really nice apology. I still like him, but I don't take kindly to being disrespected.”

“Good girl.” Mel stood up and pulled you to your feet. “Come on, let's get ready for tonight. I have a feeling if you give someone else your attention, Harry'll be falling at your feet.”

Hope fluttered in your stomach, but you tried to ignore it. “You think so?”

Mel nodded before going over to your closet. “Harry took your flirtation for granted. Once he sees you flirting with someone else, he’ll see.”

Even if you didn’t end up going out with Harry, you still wanted to show him what he was missing, so you took the clothes Mel handed over to you. “Alright. Let's do this.”

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

It was about an hour into the party, and you’d yet to go over to Harry.

You saw him come into the house, but instead of going over to him like you normally would, you held back and admired him from afar.

He was in a black and white flannel, half his hair tied up in a bun at the top of his head. He was just so cute, it was infuriating, but you held your ground.

And Mel was there to keep you in check too. She had your arm looped through yours as she introduced you to some of her friends, and after a while she hardly cared about where Harry was or what he was doing.

While you were in line at the keg, you heard your name called. For a moment you were excited that Harry was coming to you instead of the other way around, but it wasn’t him.

“Oh, hey Ash,” you said with a smile. He sat next to you in your history class, and you'd exchanged numbers for study sessions or in case one of you couldn't make it to class and needed notes.

Ash came over and gave you a side hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine. This line is a little long, though.”

“Always is,” Ash agreed. “Mind if I cut the line with you?”

“Sure.”

You talked to him about classes and plans for the weekend and whether these parties were actually fun or just something to do.

“So, where’s your boyfriend. Harry, right?”

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” you said, blushing a little.

Ash frowned. “Sorry, I just assumed. It's a small campus and I see you guys together all the time.”

Well, there was no point in lying. “Yeah, I—I’ll be honest and say I had a pretty huge crush on him.”

“Had?”

You nodded. “I’ve recently discovered he doesn’t feel the same.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he sounded genuine. You’d never hung out outside of class before, but he seemed like a cool guy. Harry’s friends had become your friends, but now all you could think about was how they all laughed at you behind your back about how pathetic you were. Maybe you could make some new friends.

“Do you want to get out of here?” you asked suddenly. “This line hasn’t moved and there’s a diner with really great milkshakes close by.”

“A milkshake sounds a lot better than cheap beer.”

Ash smiled down at you, and he playfully offered you his arm. You took it, slipping your phone out of your puffy jacket to text Mel you were leaving early. She responded immediately.

Mel☀️☀️: got lucky? ;))

Rolling your eyes, you quickly typed out a response.

You: yes, but not the way you think. he's a friend

On your way out, your name was called for the second time tonight. You looked up from your phone to see Harry jogging over to catch up to you.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you all night. Where have you been?”

The urge to hug him was strong, but you held fast onto Ash’s arm. “I’ve been around.”

“I’ve missed you,” he said. “Come play beer pong with us. We’re up against Zayn and his girlfriend.”

Stay strong, stay strong, stay strong, you thought. “Thanks, H, but Ash and I were just leaving.”

Almost as if he didn't notice Ash standing next to you with your arm looped through his, Harry looked over, a small frown on his lips. “Oh, um, well then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You went to respond, but Ash beat you to it. “Actually, we have a history test coming up. We were going to study together.”

Harry’s face fell even further, and while you wanted to distance yourself because he hurt you, you still didn't like the idea of hurting him. “You could join us if you want.”

Harry suddenly straightened up, an easy smile on his face. “No, no I’ll see you around. Take care, Y/n.”

You and Ash left soon after, and once you were far enough away from the party, you asked, “What was that about? We don’t have a history test.”

Ash shrugged. “He likes you. He just needs a little push.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, he couldn’t stop staring at how close we were, and he watched us leave, was standing by the door until we turned the corner.”

“Really?” How did you not notice?

“Yeah,” Ash said. “I think just a couple times of us hanging out will make him putty in your hands.”

Well, that seemed nice. “And what’s in it for you?”

“Nothing. We’re friends, and friends help each other.”

Ash was definitely interesting, and you liked him, as a friend, obviously. He felt like a big brother looking out for you, and you could use a little of that.

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

Another Friday night, another party.

You were with Ash and his friends and Mel, a group that was actually very fun. Oh, and Harry was there too.

You hadn't been hanging out with him very much, but not to the point of being rude. You just kept yourself busy, and the longer you went not spending time together, the more he kept pestering you about it.

“I feel like I never see you anymore,” he said earlier tonight. He asked if you wanted to skip the party tonight and watch movies in his room. It was exactly the kind of thing you wanted to do with him, but you couldn't just cancel on your friends, and you liked hanging out with Ash. So you invited him, and he said yes.

Harry was practically by your side the whole night, not touching you or anything like that, but his closeness definitely sent a message to any guy—or girl—who seemed interested.

You weren’t even dressed up, but you felt good. You'd just had your braids redone, your edges were laid perfectly, and the green top you were wearing just popped perfectly on your skin. If Harry didn’t at least find you attractive, he was an idiot.

And now you were sitting in some frat house backyard, your head resting on Ash’s shoulder. You could feel Harry’s glare from here, but he remained quiet as he sipped on his beer, hardly saying a word since you met up with your friends.

“I think tonight might be the night,” you said to Ash quietly, a smile on your face. Harry had been glowering all night, had complained that he didn't get to see you as much as he used to the last couple weeks, but he still didn't outwardly express his feelings. You'd done enough of that already. Now it was his turn.

“Yeah? He does look pretty pissed,” Ash agreed. He subtly gave you a fist bump before rejoining his conversation with Mel, who winked at you on his other side.

After a few more minutes, Harry cleared his throat. “Y/n, do you want to come get another drink?”

He was glaring at where your head was on Ash’s shoulder, but you just smiled like nothing was amiss. “I haven't finished mine, but thanks,” you said.

“Please?” He sounded hurt, and one thing you didn't want to do was hurt him the way he hurt you.

Winking at Ash and Mel, you stood up and straightened your skirt. “Sure. I’ll be back, guys.”

When you walked over to him, you almost wished he would put his arm around you or something, but he didn’t, the only time he touched you being when the crowd inside got a little too thick and he grabbed your wrist so he wouldn't lose you.

Instead of going to the kitchen where a mini bar had been set up, Harry led you to the front of the house, sitting down on the porch swing. You sat down next to him, keeping a small sliver of distance between the two of you.

“You normally sit on my lap,” Harry mused, his foot pushing against the floor to rock the porch swing back and forth a little.

“Normally,” you said, because he was right. You used to sit on his lap and play with his hair at parties, and now you weren't even touching him. “I don't want to give anyone the wrong idea, though.”

“Okay, what is going on here? Am I missing something?” he asked, the words sounding like they tumbled out of him before he could stop them.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean! You were all over me for a whole year and now—”

“Now? Now I realized that it embarrasses you and it got in the way of seeing people you actually have feelings for, so I’ve moved on.”

“Well where the hell did you get that from?” he asked, bewildered.

“From you! You said those things a few weeks ago on the phone,” you said. You didn't raise your voice often, but Harry could be so dense sometimes.

Realization seemed to dawn on him. “You heard me when I—”

“Uh huh.” You raised your brows at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I, uh, my friends constantly teased me. About you. I just thought if I told them what they wanted to hear they would leave me alone. I didn't realize—”

“So, instead of sticking up for me, you played along?” you shook your head in disbelief. “God you're a dick.”

“I know, I’m sorry. It wasn't right, and saying all that stuff felt like acid on my tongue. I wish I could take them back.”

“Me too,” you said resting your chin in your hands. When you felt like you weren't about to cry, you looked over at him, only to find him waiting to meet your gaze. “Are you really embarrassed by me? Why did you never tell me to stop? I would've if you'd said something, but it didn't seem like it bothered you.”

“You don't, and I wasn’t bothered, I just—”

“Just what?”

“I—I’m not like you, Y/n, it’s hard for me to just wear my heart on my sleeve the way you do.”

Well that much was obvious, but you were glad he was opening up to you now. “I don't need you to be like me, or even like me like that, I just want you to tell me to stop if you're uncomfortable.”

“But that's the thing. I'm not uncomfortable,” he said. Reaching his hand out, he settled it over yours. “It was just so full on from the beginning, and I don't mean to sound like more of an asshole than I already have, but it was hard to determine if I liked the attention or that it was you giving me that attention.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you said. “I’m sorry, I know I can be kind of intense.”

“Don’t apologize for being who you are, Y/n. I was the one who couldn't identify my feelings.”

“And have you? Identified your feelings?”

You looked at Harry, trying to read the expression on his face, but he could be so guarded sometimes.

But then he nodded, and the hand that was resting on yours shifted so he was holding it. “I...really like you. Not spending time with you has been absolute torture, and I—I know I probably ruined my chances with you, but since you were nothing but honest about your feelings before, I just thought I should tell you.

“But I won't—I won't, like, get in the way of things if you like that Ash guy,” he said.

You smiled a little when he mentioned Ash. Instead of answering, you stood up and moved so you were standing in front of him. Looking down at his lap, then back to his eyes, you asked, “Is this seat taken?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples flashing for the first time tonight. “Nope. All yours.”

You made yourself comfortable on his lap, and he was quick to wrap his arms around your waist. Your hands immediately went for his hair, and he leaned into it, humming with pleasure, practically purring like a cat.

“I’ve missed this,” he said, his eyes closed as you continued to scratch your nails against his scalp.

“Could’ve had this if you hadn't opened your big mouth,” you joked.

Opening his eyes, he looked into yours, serious all of a sudden. “I really am sorry for that.”

Harry had been a dick, but he wasn't the same as you. Sure, you wished he'd open up more, and maybe he would, but you couldn't expect him to change so suddenly. “I...accept your apology. Just please don't do it again. You really hurt my feelings.”

He nodded. “Of course, and you might not believe me, but I’ll defend you against anyone. My friends were being pricks, and I should've stood up for you. I won't make that same mistake again.”

“I know you won't,” you said. This was his second chance. If Harry really likes you like he said, he wouldn't fuck it up again.

“Well, now that that's out of the way, I’d like to do something, but I have to make sure of something first,” Harry said. He took your chin in his hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “You’re not dating that Rash character are you?”

You threw your head back and laughed. “Ash. His name is Ash. And no, I’m not dating him, he's just a friend. He was part of my plan to help you pull your head out of your ass.”

“Oh. Well then I should thank him, but that can wait. I'd rather do something else right now.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

Harry didn't answer, just brought your lips down to his. The kiss was everything you wanted it to be and more. His lips were buttery soft, moving with yours perfectly, like you were made for each other. His tongue made your heart swell about three sizes, and you couldn't help but dig your nails into his hair and tug a little, making him groan around your mouth.

His hands stayed at your waist, but you moved them lower, encouraging him to explore, and then he was everywhere. It didn't matter that you were outside where anyone could see you. As far as you and Harry were concerned, you were the only two people on earth to exist.

You noticed—barely, as Harry’s lips had you in a pretty stellar daze—that he'd been avoiding touching our hair at all. Moving to his neck to kiss and suck marks on his skin, you breathed, “You can touch them. The braids.”

“I just didn’t—I mean I know it's a sensitive subject—”

“You didn't ask, H. I'm telling you you can, that's the difference. I want you to.”

Nodding, Harry ran his hands through them, a small smile on his face. “They’re beautiful. You're beautiful.”

“Thank you. So are you,” you said.

Leaning down, you kissed him once again, and there wasn't much talking after that. You could've sat there for hours, kissing and touching and exploring. You wanted to know which areas made Harry’s breath hitch and which ones made him moan and which ones had him gripping your backside harder and pulling you closer. So you did just that, and so did he. He found your favorite spot just behind your ear and the one at the base of your neck. He made you shiver and push your hips against his when he reached underneath your shirt, not touching or exploring, just sitting there and enjoying the warmth of your skin.

Your body reacted to every little thing he did, and so did he, to the point where you felt his jeans tighten beneath you.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked softly against your chest, placing open mouthed kisses right where the v of your blouse covered your breast.

“God yes,” you practically whined, making Harry chuckle, though he was just as desperate to leave as you were. “I have to tell Ash and Mel that I’m leaving first, though.”

So you slid off Harry, and this time he was all over you, arms around your waist and fingers resting on the sliver of skin between your blouse and skirt. When you return, the whole group watched you walk over. Someone whistled, but you couldn't tell who. Embarrassed all of a sudden, you turned your face into Harry's chest. Perhaps it was disbelief that it was actually happening.

“Take a wrong turn? You've been gone a while,” Mel said, a knowing smile on her face.

“We actually came to tell you we're leaving,” Harry said. “Probably to have sex, but we’ll see how it goes.”

Your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ in total shock. Slapping his chest, you said, “I cannot believe you just said that!”

“What? I'm just being honest. I'm all about being open and honest about my feelings now,” Harry said, not at all embarrassed by what he said.

“Oh God, I've created monster,” you groaned.

Your friends waved you off with teasing and laughter, but all you could focus on was Harry's thumb rubbing circles into your skin as he said, “You did, and you'll find that I'm quite insatiable.”

With a pinch to your bum, you squealed and pulled Harry out of the house as fast as you could without running. Harry opened his car door for you and practically sprinted to the other side so you could be off. His hand was on your thigh the whole way back to campus, reaching higher and higher, then coming back down your leg. It was torture, but the good kind. You were nearly buzzing with anticipation by the time he parked and let you out of the car.

And the second you were alone in his room, you were on him. Harry's hands were not so shy now that you were truly alone, reaching under your skirt and kneading your skin for all it was worth. You squeezed him hard once his mouth started exploring too, unable to much more than pull his hair and exhale encouraging words until you were a mess underneath him. He gave you a cocky smile as he kissed the corner of your mouth, but you were quick to pin him beneath you, eager to blow his mind the way he did for you.

You'd left the party early, but as far as you were concerned, you were just getting started.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a quick note: i just wanted to say that i don't pretend to know what it's like to be black or to have a black woman's hair, but an anon asked if i would ever write from a black woman's perspective, and i always want to represent all walks of life in my writing. i hope this fic and the mentions of black women's hair is respectful and not offensive to anyone. pleas let me know if it is and i will change it immediately. all my love💕💕

    Flowers blooming time lapse

I AM PHYSICALLY SHAKING RIGHT NOW OH MY GOD

Tom Hiddleston and Oscar Isaac - TV Drama Actor Roundtable 2022

i won’t say anything weird anymore i prommy (different way of saying promise)

Blue Bunny

prompt: you and the Twins show up to collect the same debt.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: Tan's real name being Aaron, Lemon's real name being Brian, Mafia antics, depiction of murder, blood, guns, brief physical violence, given nickname [ Bunny ], Daddy's Girl trope? dialogue heavy fic.

"I like the lilac, what do you think? Maybe the yellow?"

"The pink's rather nice."

"How's about green? For St. Patrick's Day? Celebration of spring?"

Your lover chuckled over the receiver, phone set on speaker to the desk in front of you. "Think I prefer the blue," he replied, the smirk evident.

"You always prefer blue," you teased, handing the bottle of pale blue nail polish to your nail tech. "So, tell me, where are you now? Haven't seen yah all week," You pouted, placing your AirPods in to keep the conversation private. Not like it mattered, your nail tech, Collette, only spoke French, and she was the only other person in the room.

"'Fraid I can't divulge that information, sweetheart," Aaron sighed, "on a bit of business right now."

"Now? Like, in the present?" You chuckled, nodding at Collette when she pointed at the length of the acrylic.

"Yeah," Tan mused back, "say hello, sweetheart!"

"Hello, luv!" Brian, or otherwise known as Lemon, was heard calling. His twin, your lover, used the codename Tangerine for the contract agency they worked for - keeping their identities safe. Something you didn't necessarily have to worry about, being as your name held power. It was something like a shield in the criminal world, everyone knowing your surname dictated fear.

"Oh, hello, my sweetness," you cooed, grinning slyly. "What's it you two are up to? What sort of business are you on?"

"Ah, hang on a tick, love," Aaron mused, setting his phone down. You waited patiently, hearing a series of gunshots ringing out as you watched Collette paint the pale blue in sleek, professional strokes. Screams echoed over the line, tires screeches, several grunts of exertion, but you didn't so much as flinch, just admiring the work your nail tech did.

You blew on your nails, admiring the color.

Collette asked if you wanted to keep the paint shiny or add a matte overcoat, you humming, replying in French that you preferred the shiny coat. She held up a bottle of silver glitter, perking her brows, watching you nod - trusting her artistic eye.

"Hello? Still there, Bunny?" Aaron got back on the line, using your pet name he bestowed on you after your first date. You had a cold coming on, and after he kissed you, you instantly sneezed - nose screwing up like a fluffy bunny.

"I'm here," you smiled.

"Right, what color did you go with?"

You grinned, "Take a guess."

"Blue's your color."

"More like yours. I much prefer pastels, but I think this color's the best of both our preferences."

He chuckled, "Listen, yeah? You free Thursday? I'l be in your neck of the woods."

"Ah, I'm traveling this week," you answered with a pout, "what about next week?"

"I might be able t'swing that, yeah," Aaron agreed easily. "You hear from that Edward bloke recently?"

"No, no, I've told you, I'm done with him. You're quite the jealous type, you know, scared him off real good."

"Ah, well, don't like folks touchin' what's mine, now, do I?"

"Apparently not," you smiled, phone line beeping with an incoming call. "Oh, shit, I gotta go, Aaron, Daddy's calling."

"Mhm, and we all know you betta answer, huh?"

"It's how we all stay alive," you laughed. "Bye."

"See yah real soon, Bunny. Make sure your toes match!"

You hung up with a laugh, then accepted your father's incoming call, "Hi, Daddy."

"Hello, sweet one," he answered. "What are you up to?"

"Collette's doing my nails."

"Ah, very good. What color?"

"A pretty pale blue."

"Wonderful. Tell Collette I say hello. We'll have t'get her a sensational Christmas bonus with the way you work her."

You chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Listen, poppet, I need you to do something for me."

"Mhm, anything you need, Daddy."

"One of our associates is late on payment."

"How late?"

"A week."

"Oh, you're taking time in collecting," you mused, appreciating the full set Collette was detailing. "What's the hold up? Why wait?"

"I'm stuck in Prague."

"Daddy."

"I know," he rushed, "but I need you on this one, princess."

"Who's the associate?"

"Fella name Wilmer DeLano."

"I know of him, doesn't he own the chain of pharmacies? His son and I went to university together, right?"

"The exact same," your father confirmed. "I need you to go collect, princess, please."

"How much is the debt?"

"With the added week, chalks it up to $3 million."

"US dollars?"

"Yeah."

"Since when do we deal in US dollars?" You asked with a curled lip.

"Not the question I think you want to be asking."

"Uh, no, you're right, okay, sure, I can collect. Tonight?"

"He's not expecting it, knows I'm still in Prague. Take Rufus and Gunther with you for protection detail."

"I'd rather take Samuel."

"No, he's doing a different favor for me."

"Daddy."

"He's making a delivery, all right?"

"What about Gunther and Casey? Rufus creeps me out."

"That's fine," your father agreed with a sigh. "Listen, princess, tonight might get a little hairy, so I want you prepared."

"Daddy, I'm literally getting my nails done, I'm not handling a gun. That's what Gunther's for."

"I taught you better than that. You protect yourself, you can't depend on anyone else."

You nodded, "Yes, sir. Do you wanna call the boys or...?"

"I'll call them, don't worry. Just be ready to go by 8. Remember, princess, $3 million - and make sure you count it, too."

You agreed, promising you loved him, then wishing him luck in Prague on whatever his business was. After hanging up, Collette smiled, asking in French, "When are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"That you have a boyfriend," she laughed. "He's your father, he'll be happy for you."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh, please," she scoffed, swiping the glitter on your nails. "That boy that you're always on the phone with? You're not hiding it, not from me."

You felt warmth flush your chest, heating your core. "He's still not my boyfriend," you mumbled stubbornly.

"He picks your nail colors," she grinned, "that's a boyfriend!"

You double checked the address your father sent, nodding at Gunther in the driver's seat. "All right, lads, I want this a clean collection. Just got my nails done," you smirked, the lights of the three-story home still on and indicating DeLano must've been home.

"Yes, ma'am," Casey agreed, getting out of the backseat and opening your passenger door; helping you out, letting you readjust your clingy black dress. Gunther moved around the back of the car, grabbing the usual go-bag brought to every collection.

Slowly, carefully, you stalked up the long driveway, heels clacking with every pace. You let Gunther peer through the windows, him nodding before leading the way to the backdoor. It was simple enough to jimmy the lock open, silently swinging the door wide open and stepping over the threshold.

Casey went around the side to enter through the living room as you walked through the kitchen, surrounding your target. Wilmer DeLano was sat at his dining room table with his wife, looking up when you cleared your throat. He jolted in shock, but Casey blocked the only other doorway; his gun in hand, both clasped in front of him.

Gunther checked the rest of the house.

"Hello, Mr. DeLano," you greeted casually. "Oh, something smells wonderful in here, you cook this?" You asked his wife, casually strolling up to the table, Red Bottoms sounding over the polish hardwood floors. You plucked up a slice of roast, tearing a bite off and humming, "Oh, very good that. You're a lucky man, Mr. DeLano to have such a talented wife."

"Who are you?" The portly woman begged, flinching when you hummed and brandished your gun.

"Right, guessing you don't know," you nodded. "Your husband's in a bit of a lucrative business, Missus. Nice house, though," you gazed around, "lot of fine art you've got hung up, saw all name-brand appliances in your kitchen."

"H-He owns a chain of drug stores - "

"Yes, yes, yes, I know. Very true," you agreed, "but that's only a front, it's not the full picture. I'm here to help illustrate, if you will. C'mon, why don't we all go into the living room? Hear that's where the safe is kept."

"What is happening!?" Mrs. DeLano demanded, gun pointed at her temple.

"Up, up," you demanded.

Slowly, Wilmer lifted from his seat with his hands held in peace, "Okay, okay, we can - let's go talk in the living room. Just don't threaten my wife, she's got nothing t'do with this."

"For now," you agreed, gathering the couple to the living room couch.

"Boss," Gunther alerted, dragging your old university classmate and a previous lover, Edward DeLano, up from the basement, "found this one down there, smoking a joint. Rest of the house is clear."

"Wonderful," you nodded, gesturing for Eddie to sit. "You bring enough to share with the class?" But your old peer just looked around the room of criminals. "Guessin' he didn't wanna share," you pouted, then rolling your eyes. "Well, now that we've all gathered - "

Suddenly, there was a noisy crack and bang as the front door was kicked in, making all three of you gangsters turn with weapons drawn and aimed. However, you chuckled and dropped your arm when you realized it was the Twins, Aaron and Brian, or Tangerine and Lemon, standing in the splintered doorway.

"At ease, lads," you chuckled, holstering your gun to your thigh. "These are friends of mine."

"You outsourced the job? Out your fuckin' mind, princess? Huh?" Casey growled, not lowering his gun as Tan and Lem strolled in.

"Don't fuckin' talk to her like that," Aaron snapped instantly.

"Fuck off, Casey, I would never outsource, I know the fucking rules," you sound more amused than anything.

"Well, ain't this fun?" Aaron mused with a grin, strolling in casually before pausing in the open foyer as Brian tried shutting the door again - but it the very doorframe was shattered, making it impossible. "Sorry 'bout the front door, ol' chap, but you understand, yeah? 'S just business," He nodded at DeLano. "Bunny," he smirked at you, hands in his tailored suit pants pockets; polished Italian leather shoes gently scoffing across the floor.

Aaron magnetized to your side, coiling his arm around your waist to lean in and peck your cheek.

"Hi, handsome. Thought you weren't in town until later?"

"We wrapped a different job early," he answered. "Question is: what're you doin' here, love?"

"Collecting debt payment."

"No shit," he grinned, "so are we."

Your head cocked; leaning into his side with your own arm wrapping around his chiseled waist. You asked, "He owes my father money. You?"

"Owes an associate, too." He smirked at the DeLano's you two stood in front of, "Ain't that right, geezer? Got yourself into a bit of a pickle, didn't yah? Got a bit of a problem with the nose candy, don't'cha, naughty boy?"

"You told me you quit!" Mrs. DeLano hissed, "now you're in debt!?"

"I have it under control," Wilmer deflected stiffly.

His wife sobbed and begged, "W-Would someone please just explain what's going on!? Who are you people!?" Tears fell fast. "What do you want from us!?"

"This ain't rocket science, love, fuck you mean what do we want?" Lemon snickered. "You not listenin' or something?"

"Ah, right, well, I was in the middle of explainin' the situation," you told the Twins, waving a manicured hand in the air as if swatting away a pesky fly. "'Ello, lovie," you grinned at Lemon when he stationed himself on your other side, "good t'see you."

"Sweetheart," he nodded, offering a side hug when you released his brother, "been too long, hasn't it?"

"Since Cancún," you agreed. "Right, then! Onward, ho! Casey, darlin', would you be a doll and open the bag? Get us set up t'count up?"

"'Course, boss," he agreed, kneeling at the mahogany coffee table and unzipping the duffel you brought.

"Right," your hands clapped, the family jumping at the sudden sound, "back to what I was sayin'. See, your husband owns the drug stores, that's true," you allotted, "but he also launders money for the Mafia. For my father, my family. Maybe you've heard of him?"

You relaid your father's first and last name, seeing the Fear of God paint over the DeLano's. "What?" Eddie snapped at his father sat beside him. See, despite dating briefly, you kept your identity a secret from Ed. "What have you done!? Do you know who her father is? Know what he's done!? He fuckin' gutted his own brother - "

"Allegedly," you interjected sharply.

" - all in the name of business! You don't know what this family is capable of!"

"Yes, boy, I'm well aware, the man is my bloody business partner," Wilmer snapped right back.

"Well, not so much of a partner now, are yah? Just more of a fuckin' nuisance," You smirked, earning the attention again. "So, you see, your husband washes our money, earns a significant cut for shouldering the risk. Payment's collected every two weeks and as of today, your husband's a week late on delivering our cash load."

"I-I can explain, please - "

"No need," you cut Wilmer off, "because I didn't get t'where I am now by listening to pathetic explanations. I don't listen to excuses. Fact is, you own my father money, and because you're late, the total is now $3 million - and he wants it in US dollars."

"Well, ain't that somethin'?" Tan smirked at Lem. "Turns out, he owes our client some million, too."

You hummed, nodding, "Right, right, but see, thing is, if my Daddy ain't paid, he goes postal. Nasty business, truly messy, just a chaotic clusterfuck, bodies left everywhere, cities in shambles." Turning back to the family, you offered, "So, we're just gonna make this easy. You cough up what you owe, we won't blow your brains out all over this nice Persian rug. Mmmh! See that, love?" You pointed to the fabric you stood on, looking at Aaron. "That's real authentic, you can tell by the threading. Be a shame to ruin it, yeah? Exquisite work."

"Sure is," he agreed, "but did you see up there, Bunny? 'Bove the mantel?"

"Oh, yes," you breathed in impression, "an ancient Aztec tribal mask. An artifact, very hard to get your hands on. Heard the British Museum was actually lookin' for that particular mask."

"Seems like Mr. DeLano is quite the collector of finer things," Lemon admired, pointing at a portrait on the wall. "Oi! Is that what I think? Is that a fucking Monet?"

"Priceless," you nodded.

"Listen, right, we've got strict orders, yeah?" Your lover sighed, shifting his weight. "We're t'collect payment by any means, a message is t'be sent. Right?"

"That's right, yeah," Lemon agreed, crossing his arms. "Make sure this kinda misunderstanding don't happen again."

Gunther asked, "You need tarps for this?"

You refused, "No, we're not here to kill anyone. We're here to let a loyal man the opportunity to pay us what's owed."

"Listen t-t-to me," Wilmer begged, stuttering in fear, "I don't have the money. Okay? The government came sniffin', I had tax liens to pay off to avoid prison time - "

"More fuckin' excuses! Jesus, fuck, man!" You groaned. "Who do you think can do more damage - the bloody government or my family? Huh? Look, lad, I know you've got what we're owed, so, be a good li'l boy and open the safe. Huh?"

"Fucking do it, Dad!"

"What're you doing, Wilmer? What are you waiting for!? You can't play this game! You'll get us all killed!"

"I don't have the money! How can I pay with what I don't have!?"

"Why do I not believe that?" You mused to Tan.

"'Cause you've been in this business a helluva lot longer than he has," Tangerine / Aaron answered. "You know a rat when you smell one, I reckon."

You nodded, then pulled your gun out again, aiming, and firing at Eddie's knee to shatter his kneecap. Blood splattered onto the couch. He screamed in agony, you raging above the panicked cries and shocked shouts, "Do I have your fucking attention now, Mr. DeLano?"

Edward sobbed in pain, trying to staunch the bleeding, Mrs. Delano gasping and shrieking. "Do whatever they want, Wilmer! For fuck's sake! Just do it!"

"Listen to your wife, mate," Lemon advised. "Unhappy wife, unhappy life, innit?"

You aimed at Eddie's other knee, firing, causing another flurry of screaming, crying, and begging. "If you want your son t'only have two bullets in 'im, I suggest you get moving!" You barked, aiming at Wilmer. "Now!"

"Well, wait a tick," Tangerine halted, "if we're both on the job, how's it gonna look if the geezer's telling us the truth, hey? Who gets the money?"

"Let's find it first, darlin', distribute later," you breathed as Casey finished setting up the automatic money counter. "Mr. DeLano? I advise you to do what we're asking. See, I use to duck hunt - I'm an excellent shot. The next bullet's goin' in your son's head and I never miss. Now, where's the fucking money!?"

"I don't have it! Please!"

"The money, DeLano, where's the fucking money!?"

"Please - "

"You want a dead son!?"

"All right!" He sobbed, "All right, fine! Yes, you win! Just please, please! Don't hurt my family anymore! Please, just leave them alone! I'll do what you want, just - leave them out of this!"

You nodded, "Well, you fucked with my Daddy's money. Only right I cripple you in a sense. Hey? Now, chop chop," you checked your watch for the time, "I'm a very busy bee and don't have all night."

"You're a smart lad, DeLano, we know you would've wanted to prep for a comfy fall if it came to it," Lemon laughed easily from beside you. "Ain't no way you're bone dry, know you have money stashed for security. Just c'mon, mate, these two sickos consider this a sort of foreplay, they'll go all fuckin' night with yah if you continue to refuse," he gestured at you and Tan.

You tacked on, "Lotta places to shoot someone without killin' 'em. Just saying..."

Wilmer stood from the couch, his wife shooting across the newly vacated space to embrace her whimpering son. The money launderer approached the Monet painting and lifted it from the wall; revealing an iron safe. You shared a look with Tangerine, smirking as the combination was entered and the door opening.

"That's what we fuckin' thought," Tangerine sneered, seeing the stacks and stacks and stacks of money. " Fuckin' hell. Right, so, look, count up the lady first. We'll settle after," he sniffed, fluffing his suit's lapel, picking off a piece of lint.

Wilmer began handing stacks to Casey to count, one of your arms crossing over your stomach to prop up your other arm; hand limp in the air. "Faster," you demanded, the man sweating bullets.

"Oh, now, look at that," Tan mused, taking your hand to admire your fresh manicure, "you went with blue."

"Like it?"

"Looks real pretty, Bunny, but I know something these would look better wrapped around," he grinned, making you smack his stomach playfully. "You wanna go get drinks afta this? My treat."

"Sounds like a date," you accepted, Gunther storing the counted cash into the dark duffel. "How's it lookin', Casey?"

"Looks 'bout right, boss," he reported, handing over another stack of banded money. "You want me t'count the Twins up?"

"Oh, if you would please, darlin', it would be very helpful," you nodded. "But I'm having a thought, right? Stay with me, would yah?"

"Oh, go on, toots, you've got great ideas," Lemon encouraged with a chuckle.

"Not always," Casey snickered, "remember what happened in Texas? At that Western bar?"

"Oi, the electronic bull was not my fault!"

"But the incident with the tequila and donkey was!"

"Hush!" You scolded. "Listen, all right, you see, this fucker tried to stiff us all... Let's clear the safe out. Take away any safety net? Truly cripple him, set him back to nothing?"

"Sound like your father," Gunther chuckled.

"That's a compliment," you shot back. "Go on, I want the lot."

Gunther agreed, standing, and approaching the safe. He shoved Wilmer out of the way, sweeping his arm into the safe and starting to load up the duffel. "You can't do this! If you take it all, what are we supposed to do!? How is my family supposed to survive when leeches like you suck us dry!?" Wilmer barked, making the amusement drop from your face.

"Watch your tone."

"No! No, I will not! You think you're high and mighty because of your father, but you're just a spoilt little girl! You all break into my house, extort me - "

"Can you truly extort a criminal? For the money they owe other criminals?" Brian / Lemon wondered out loud as he meandered the living room, making you shrug.

"He likes playing victim," you mused, but in the time you looked over your shoulder, Wilmer charged. You gasped when his shoulder bullied into your gut, tackling you past Tangerine and into the coffee table, shattering it.

"GO! RUN!" He shouted at his family, Tangerine lunging instantly to wrangle him off of you; the breath knocked from your lungs.

"Got some fuckin' nerve, don't yah!? Touchin' my girl!?" He raged, throwing the man to the floor again. "Nobody fuckin' moves!" Aaron growled, gun pointed at Wilmer.

"Not like they can, two blown out knees," Brian grunted as he helped pick you up from the wreck.

"Yeh all right, Bunny?"

"All right, love, yeah," you answered and adjusted your dress, picking up your weapon as Tan began wailing his balled-up fist into Wilmer's face at a jackhammering pace. It was wildly attractive, watching the man you were in-love with beat the shit out of someone who offered you threat and harm. Then something caught your eye, gasping, "Oh, you rat bastard! You broke my fucking nail!"

You yanked Tan back; aiming at Wilmer, pulling the trigger to let a close-range bullet explode the man's head; leaking brain matter on the Persian carpet. You turned to Mrs. DeLano and Eddie, cocking your head as they begged and pleaded for their lives, but you weren't listening anymore. "Got it all, boss," Gunther informed, dropping the stuffed duffel. "What we doin' with them?"

"Exactly what my father would do," you decided. "No witnesses."

"PLEASE! NO, GOD! NO, DON'T, PLEASE! WE WON'T SAY ANYTHING, I SWEAR! I SWEAR! PLEASE! MERCY! MERCY MERCY!"

Three more gunshots sounded, Tangerine's gun smoking before being tucked back into his shoulder holster under his jacket. "Well," he fluffed his lapels again, sniffling harshly, "shall we be on our way, Bunny? We good here?"

"Oh, might as well - got what we needed," you agreed, grimacing when blood bloomed towards your expensive shoes. "Ugh, what a mess. I'll make a call, have this cleaned up, pose it as a murder-suicide," you side-stepped the puddle. "Gunther, Casey, take what you want from this place, get the cash back to the stash house. I'm gonna grab a drink with the lads," you smirked, looping your arm with Aaron's.

Lemon / Brian packed up their share of the money, following behind as Tangerine / Aaron lead you from the house; placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting the end, inhaling, tossing his free arm around your neck. The night was dark and brisk, refreshing on your clammy skin as you stabilized your breathing; always a little shaken after taking life.

Call it morality.

Once in their tinted Mercedes, Brian got in the backseat, Tan rolled his window down to smoke, and you pulled out your ringing cell phone to answer, "Hi, Daddy."

He breathed in relief, "Good, you answered. Means nothing bad happened."

"That's not entirely true," you admitted. "We're leaving now."

"What happened?"

You winced, brushes already forming, "DeLano got bold, he attacked. So we left no witnesses."

"Good girl," he praised. "You feel all right?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm actually going to drinks with some, uh, friends," you glanced at Tangerine - seeing his lips pulled in a smirk as he started the car and pulled off down the street. "Turns out, DeLano didn't just owe us, but some coke dealer, too. Right, love?" You checked.

"Right," Aaron confirmed, reaching over to plant his hand on your thigh and give a soft squeeze.

"Right, yeah, so, he tried lying 'bout money, I shot his son's kneecaps - "

"That's my girl!"

" - and cleared the safe out. That's when DeLano attacked me - "

"WHAT!?"

"Daddy," you reprimanded softly. "I'm okay. Actually, the hired contractors on the job saved my arse - they showed up after we did with the same agenda. Gunther and Casey are gonna take the cash to a stash house, I gotta call Mr. Brooks about cleaning up."

"Did you say contractors?"

"Yeah, uh, you know, from The Agency?"

"You mean hitmen?"

"Yeah, guess you could say that. Think they're more like contract killers? Verbiage is so fickle."

"Who? Who exactly was there?"

"The Twins, Daddy. Don't worry, they're absolutely charming, only took their payment. We're gonna go for drinks, yeah?"

"Huh," he grunted, "must've been some bigwig t'send them two. Or a considerable debt." You were about to reply when he gasped in realization, "Wait, no. No, no, hang on a tick, don't bloody tell me."

"What?"

"This the lad you've got a thing for, innit? The one that sends yah flowers every other week?"

"Daddy."

"Don't tell me it's that Tangerine fucker, princess, please!"

"Oh, no, look at that, we're heading into a tunnel! I'm gonna lose the call; talk tomorrow, be safe, good luck in Prague, okay, muah! Muah! Muah! Love you! Bye, bye, bye!" You rambled quickly, blowing air kisses, then hanging up swiftly.

"The hell was that about?" Aaron chuckled. "He mad we were there?"

"Not entirely."

"Was he mad you're gettin' drinks with us?" Brian laughed from the back.

"That's a little more accurate. Well," you winced, "he was a bit testy that I'm goin' with Aaron..."

"I haven't done a damn thing to him," he grumbled.

"You do have a bit of a reputation, bruv."

You smiled sweetly, gripping Aaron's hand on your thigh, "He's my father, 'course he's gonna worry."

"'Bout time he found out, keeping you two a secret was mad frustrating, yeah? You two are disgustingly in-love."

Tangerine squeezed your thigh again, sending you a bright grin, "That we are."

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

41

A

i get what dads r talking abt when they say theyre “just resting their eyes” this shit is awesome