#and he said that he had noticed and that i should know that most things that were observable he's probably observed about me

[talaok]

Your hands around my neck

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You choke Joel for the first time in bed, and he likes it... maybe even a bit too much.

Warnings: unprotected p in v sex, choking, premature ejaculation, kind of sub!Joel, dirty talk.

a/n: how ironic that lately ive been the most creative that ive been in months. right when writing should be the last thing on my mind.

You were on top of him, and his gaze was glued to you.

To your tits bouncing with your movements, to your parted mouth emanating desperate sounds, to your eyes shutting as you threw your head back, to your nails clawing at his chest, and to where your bodies became one.

He was mesmerized by you like he always was,

and while he lost himself in the pleasure you brought, in how fucking good you were making him feel, and how fuking perfect you looked doing it... he didn't catch the switch in your expression, the mischievous grin pulling at your lips, or the way your hands were suddenly traveling up his chest, until finally-

His eyes widened the moment your hands wrapped around his neck, putting just enough pressure for him to lose his mind.

A groan loud enough for the entire town to hear erupted from his chest, as pleasure so fucking deep into his core took over his body.

"You like that?" you taunted, biting down a grin as you kept bouncing on his cock

"fuck-goddamn-" he could only grunt, his head tilting backward, his eyes just about rolling to the back of his head as his chest rose and fell like he'd just come back to life.

He didn't know what any of this was. What this feeling, this ecstasy, this pleasure came from.

But god it felt good.

"You like having my hands around your neck baby?" you hummed, tightening your hold just enough to watch a needy cry flee his lips "you look so pretty like this" You smiled,

and fuck him, but Joel was gone. he was in another universe, he was in heaven, and he was-

he was about to come

"darlin-'" he tried to warn you

"shh" you stopped him "There's no need to talk now" you shook your head, lowering yourself until your mouth could ghost his "just take what I give you" you said, taking his bottom lip into your mouth and biting "you're doing so good for me baby"

Good Christ and heaven

His pride went flying out the window. Any shame, any embarrassment that he ever could have felt, dissipated into nothing as he heard himself whimper- as he moaned your name like a prayer... as his cock twitched into your cunt, painting your walls with his come.

"fuck-I'm sorry sweetheart-" he started apologizing immediately once he came back down from cloud nine and realized what had happened.

Only of course you were smiling like a kid as you freed his neck from your hold.

"you're sorry?"

"Yeah" he breathed, watching you closely as you moved some sweaty hair out of his forehead "I don't know what happened- I- I've never-"

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen Joel" You cut him off "Did you like it?"

And at that, Joel couldn't help but chuckle

If it had been anybody else, he would have been mortified, he realized, but with you... there was no such thing

"I think the proof of how much I liked it is leakin' out of you as we speak, darlin'"

You giggled, your eyes trailing to where your bodies still joined, noticing exactly what he was talking about.

"Oh I'm gonna have so much fun with this" you murmured, both of you smiling like idiots as your mouth crushed with one another.

[pinkflower2003]

Can you make a blurb for dad!max verstappen where reader always catching him and their newborn baby (boy or girl) cuddling and max playing with them and talking to them he spends all his time with them

a/n: hi sweetheart! thank you for your request, i hope i’ve done it just! 💗

dad!max verstappen x reader (requested)

You had always known Max Verstappen would be a great father, but seeing him with your newborn made your heart swell with even more love and admiration than you ever thought possible. Since the moment you brought your baby girl, Sophia, home from the hospital, Max had been completely smitten. He spent every waking moment with her, and even when he should have been resting, you would often find him sneaking into her nursery to check on her.

One night, you stirred from your sleep, noticing Max’s absence from the bed. You smiled softly, already knowing where he was. Quietly, you slipped out of bed and made your way to the nursery. The soft glow of the nightlight illuminated the room, casting a gentle light over Max and Sophia. Max was seated in the rocking chair, cradling your tiny daughter against his chest. He was speaking to her in a low, soothing voice, his Dutch accent coming through in a melody that seemed to calm her.

“You know, Sophia,” he murmured, “one day, you’re going to be able to watch me race. I’ll teach you everything about cars and speed. But for now, I just want you to be happy and healthy.” He paused to press a gentle kiss to her forehead, a smile playing on his lips. “I promise I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

You leaned against the doorframe, your heart swelling at the tender scene before you. Max had always been passionate and driven, but this side of him was something you cherished deeply. The way he looked at Sophia, the way he held her as if she was the most precious thing in the world—it made you fall in love with him all over again.

Max looked up and noticed you standing there. A smile spread across his face as he beckoned you over. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?” he whispered, his eyes filled with adoration.

You nodded, sitting on the edge of the rocking chair and resting your head on his shoulder. “She really is,” you replied softly. “And you’re an amazing father, Max. She’s so lucky to have you.”

He chuckled quietly. “I’m the lucky one. I never thought I could love someone this much.” He looked down at Sophia, who was now fast asleep in his arms. “I can’t stop thinking about all the things we’ll do together. I want to be there for every moment, every milestone.”

You reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from Max’s forehead. “And you will be. We’ll do it all together.”

Days turned into weeks, and Max’s bond with Sophia only grew stronger. You often found him in the nursery, playing with her and talking to her as if she could understand every word. One afternoon, you walked into the living room to find Max lying on the floor, his head propped up on one hand as he watched Sophia kick her tiny legs in the air. He was making silly faces and noises, drawing giggles from your baby girl.

“Look who’s here, Sophia!” Max said, glancing up at you with a wide grin. “Mama’s here to join the fun.”

You laughed, sitting down beside them on the floor. “What are you two up to?”

“Just having some quality father-daughter time,” Max replied, his eyes twinkling with joy. He reached out and took your hand, pulling you closer. “She’s been telling me all about her dreams. Apparently, she dreams of milk and cuddles.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “Sounds like she’s living the dream, then.”

Max scooted closer, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his embrace. “We’re all living the dream,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Having you and Sophia in my life… it’s more than I ever imagined.”

As the months went by, Max’s dedication to his family never wavered. He balanced his racing career with fatherhood seamlessly, making sure he was there for every feeding, every nap, and every bedtime story. You often caught him sneaking into the nursery in the middle of the night, just to check on Sophia and whisper sweet words to her.

One evening, after a long day of racing and media obligations, Max came home exhausted. But the moment he saw Sophia, his tiredness melted away. He scooped her up into his arms, holding her close as he swayed gently back and forth.

“Papa missed you so much today,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “I thought about you all day, little one. You and Mama are always on my mind.”

You watched from the doorway, your heart overflowing with love. Max’s commitment to your family was unwavering, and you knew that no matter where his career took him, he would always put you and Sophia first.

As the years went by, Max continued to be the most devoted father and partner. He never missed a moment, always finding time to be there for Sophia and you. And every time you saw him with your daughter, your love for him grew even stronger. Max Verstappen was not only a champion on the track but also a champion in your hearts—a loving father and partner who cherished every moment with his family.

[mina-saiyat]

Rumors Part 2 (Jihyo)

Part 1 in case you forgot what happened.

After that ridiculous night, Jihyo and the man officially established a relationship. But the content of their dates was not the romantic plot that ordinary couples should have, but rather greedy demands for each other's bodies again and again.

Every weekend, Jihyo would sneak out and head to the man's apartment. It had long become her most familiar place - the quilt on the bed was always in a mess, and there were a few messy clothes scattered on the floor. She can't wait to take off her clothes, lie on the bed and wait for the man's arrival.

And the moment the man stepped into the room, what he always saw was Jihyo's naked body. Without saying a word, he would pounce on Jihyo, turning her over and over, leaving new kiss marks on all parts of her body. Jihyo would kiss him back without shyness, leaving only the most primitive desire between the two of them.

After a lot of love, the two of them would lie naked on the bed and rest for a while. At this time, Jihyo may talk sweetly to the man. But these confession are quickly forgotten, because the next sex will come as scheduled.

Occasionally, men would come to Jihyo's home to stay overnight. Jihyo is living alone after moving out from the dome, although there maybe some cameras for recording the variety show. But when men came to visit, Jihyo would makes things to avoid the camera and stay alone with him in her room. The man would hold her and sit on the windowsill, watching the scenery outside together. But more often than not, they will still choose to go back to bed and get entangled with each other over and over again until they are exhausted.

In this way, Jihyo and the man consumed each other's feelings through countless sexual encounters.

The news that Jihyo was dating with a man quickly spread in the circle. One night, Jihyo was rehearsing on the set when her phone suddenly rang. When she saw it, it turned out to be a message from her manager asking her to call back immediately.

A bad premonition arose in Jihyo 's heart. She hurriedly completed the shoot, found an excuse and ran to the stairwell to call her agent back. She heard a hint of anxiety in the other person's voice: "Jihyo, you go home right now! There are some things we need to talk about."

Jihyo had no choice but to ask the director for a half-day leave and hurried back home. Before she entered, she saw her manager already waiting outside.

"Jihyo, I know the rumors about you being with a man are true." The manager said bluntly, "But I need a reasonable explanation, otherwise this matter may affect your career."

Jihyo was stunned. She originally thought that she had concealed it well, but she didn't expect that the press would find out so quickly. She didn't know how to explain it. If she said that she and the man were just sex partner, fans would be extremely disappointed with her; but if she was asked to admit that this man she didn't love at all was her boyfriend, she couldn't do it.

"I...I don't know what to say..." Jihyo said with red eyes, "Me and him...we are just friends..." The manager was silent for a long time. He saw Jihyo's embarrassment and knew that this matter was very difficult. "Okay, I will discuss with the PR team how to handle it. But Jihyo, you'd better think carefully and don't make a decision that you will regret."

Jihyo nodded, knowing that she had to face reality. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the coming storm.

Jihyo reached out and grabbed the manager's arm before he turns around to leave. She raised her head and showed a sweet smile: "Manager, even if you send out a press release in the middle of the night, no one will notice it. Why don't you wait until tomorrow morning to send it out? You can stay in my guest room and sleep tonight. "

The manager looked at Jihyo in surprise. He didn't expect her to make such a suggestion. But soon, his eyes were attracted by the rise and fall of her chest.

Jihyo could see what he was thinking. She slowly leaned over and massaged his arm gently: "Oppa has been too tired recently and needs a good rest. How about I massage your shoulders?"

The manager's breath caught. He should have refused, but Jihyo's fingers seemed to have magic power, making his sanity gradually blur. He swallowed and said reluctantly: "That's fine, just do what you like."

Jihyo stood up with a smile. She walked behind the manager and put her hands on his shoulders. Her technique was not professional, but every press could accurately hit his pain point. The manager sighed involuntarily, feeling that the heat in his lower body was also about to stir.

"Oppa, do you want me to take off your shirt for you? It will be more comfortable this way." Jihyo's voice was low and sexy. She bit her lip lightly and traced her fingers across the manager's strong muscles.

The manager nodded. He knew he was taking a risk, but at this moment he could no longer control himself. Jihyo quickly unbuttoned his clothes, exposing his skin to the air, which aroused her interest even more.

"Oppa has a really nice figure." Jihyo knelt down and licked his nipples with the tip of her tongue.

Jihyo knew that if she wanted to get through this difficulty, she had to do her best to please the man in front of her. He is her own manager and controls her own destiny. As long as he is willing to stand on her side, all difficulties can be easily solved.

On the other hand, Jihyo also has selfish motives. Although she had a physical relationship with her boyfriend, she did not really fall in love with him. If the company forces her to break up, she doesn't care. But once she loses her sex life, her body will feel lonely. Therefore, she wanted to take advantage of this opportunity to seduce her manager and turn him into her regular sex partner.

Jihyo has been in the idol industry for many years and she knows very well what men need. She deliberately screamed "Oppa Oppa" and teased the manager's sensitive spots with the tip of her tongue. Her skills were so good that she soon had the manager in a state of lust.

"Jihyo, you're so good..." the manager gasped, grabbing Jihyo's hair and burying her deeper.

Jihyo smiled, knowing that she was half successful. She planned to add fuel to the fire and let this veteran driver try the charm of her idol. She opened her mouth and took his nipple in her entire mouth, scanning the surrounding area with her tongue.

"Oppa, do you want me to lick other places?" Jihyo raised her eyes and cast a wink at the manager.

The manager shook his head, his breathing becoming heavier. He pulled Jihyo and asked her to sit on his lap. His big hands reached under her skirt and kneaded her erect clitoris.

"Oppa, please don't..." Jihyo pretended to be frightened, but her body twisted honestly to meet the manager's touch.

She knew she would get what she wanted soon.

Jihyo felt her skirt being lifted up, revealing her white buttocks and black underwear. She knew that this was one of the most favorite sights for men, so she took the initiative to raise her buttocks to give the manager a better view.

"Oppa, I'm wet down there..." Jihyo grabbed the manager's wrist and led him into the restricted area of ​​her underwear. When his fingers touched her already overflowing pussy, she couldn't help but moan.

"Hmm...Oppa, you are so good at playing..." Jihyo let her moans get louder and louder, and she even took the initiative to spread her thighs to facilitate the manager's invasion. She felt that the little bean deep in her vagina was kneaded by him until it was numb, and waves of pleasure swept through her body like waves.

"Oppa, I want you..." Jihyo fell limply into the manager's arms. Her chest was pressed against his chest, and she could feel his strong heartbeat. She pulled his palms to cover her breasts, letting him knead them wantonly.

"Jihyo, I want you too..." The manager leaned forward and kissed her lips. The tip of his tongue slipped into her mouth and intertwined with her delicious tongue.

The two kissed passionately, until they reluctantly separated due to lack of oxygen. Jihyo's face was flushed and her eyes were blurry. She looked at the man in front of her who had been provoked into losing his mind by her, and the corner of her mouth raised a smile of victory.

"Oppa, do you want me?" Jihyo blinked and whispered into his ear.

Jihyo knew that now was the time for her to show her true strength. She took the manager's hand and placed it on her breast.

"Oppa, I want you..." She bit her lip and looked at him shyly. She held his harden shaft in her hand and moved it up and down. She could feel it swelling and burning in her hands.

The manager was panting heavily, he was also longing for Jihyo's body. He held her waist and asked her to sit astride him. He eagerly pulled off her underwear, revealing the already muddy grass.

"Oppa...I can't wait any longer..." Jihyo held his hard object and pointed it at her swan, and then slowly lowered his waist. She could feel it inserting into her inch by inch, breaking through layers of lines until it reached the deepest core of the flower.

"Ah!~" Jihyo couldn't help but moan. She felt that her lower body was completely filled, as if she had returned to the original wedding night.

The manager also moaned in comfort, Jihyo's vagina was tight and moist, tightly adsorbed on his shaft. He couldn't help but move his waist, wanting more comfort.

"Oppa...slow down..." Jihyo felt that her womb was being rubbed to the point of slight pain, but it was more of a tingling pleasure. She held his neck so he could fuck her deeper.

"Hmm...so good..." Jihyo followed his rhythm and swayed her waist up and down. She could feel the pleasure coming from the depths of her pussy, getting more and more intense.

"Actually, I've always liked you..." The manager gasped, grabbing Jihyo's buttocks and squeezing them hard.

"Really? Oppa, you never show it..." Jihyo said coquettishly. She felt the pleasure in her lower body getting stronger and stronger. Her pussy kept squirming, wanting more.

"I can't control myself when I see you...especially the way you look on stage...I know I shouldn't think like this, but I just can't control myself..." The manager blamed himself. The hard object swelled inside Jihyoand the pain was unbearable.

"Oppa is so bad..." Jihyo chuckled. She felt that her lower body was about to fall apart due to the impact. She hugged his neck and blew into his ear, "Actually, Jihyo has been looking forward to having sex with you...but Oppa never gave me a chance..."

"Enjoy it now..." Jihyo twisted her waist to match his rhythm. She could feel her core being pushed to the deepest point by him, and the tingling sensation almost made her scream.

"Oh... Jihyo..." the manager gasped, feeling as if he was in heaven. Jihyo's lower body was wet and hot, tightly wrapped around his cock. He could feel her cervix shrinking and squeezing, as if she was trying to suck all his essence out.

"Oppa, do you like Jihyo's body?" Jihyo asked in a deliberately lowered voice. She could feel his hard object growing bigger and bigger inside her. She twisted her waist, letting his hard object rub against every sensitive point in her body.

"Of course I like it... Jihyo's body is simply designed to please men..."

‘It turns out that Oppa also has this idea..." Jihyo teased him with a deliberate smile. She could feel his cock becoming more and more violent inside her body, as if he was going to tear her apart.

"My girlfriend isn't even half as good as Jihyo... Having sex with her is like completing a mission... There's no reaction at all..." The manager complained, holding Jihyo’s nipples, squeezed hardly.

"Oh, Oppa, don't be angry..." Jihyo pretended to comfort him. She knew that this would only make him crazier. "Then don't have sex with your girlfriend anymore...all the semen should be reserved for Jihyo..."

"Really?" The manager stopped in surprise. He looked at Jihyo with obsession in his eyes.

"Of course... From now on, Oppa, you just fuck Jihyo..." Jihyo blinked her big eyes and looked at him innocently.

The manager immediately nodded excitedly, and he started thrusting again, reaching the deepest part of Jihyo every time. He felt that his desire had reached an unprecedented height, as if only Jihyo's body could satisfy him.

"Jihyo, I want you, and I want you now..." The manager hugged Jihyo's slender waist tightly and hit her delicate body hard. He knew that the feeling of having sex with Jihyo was something he would never forget in his life.

"Oppa, Jihyo wants you too..." Jihyo swayed her waist in line with his movements, and her moans became louder and louder. The two seemed to merge into one, with only the most primitive desires spreading in each other's bodies.

‘From now on, I will arrange all schedule for you alone... I will also give priority to you with Twice’s resources... As long as you are happy..." The manager looked at Jihyo with a gleaming look in his eyes. The cock kept beating inside her body, and it seemed that she had reached the limit of endurance.

"Really? That's great!" Jihyo was ecstatic. She knew how important this condition was to her career development. She immediately increased her speed and swayed her waist in time with his thrust.

"Oppa, you are so kind... Jihyo will always remember it..." Jihyo looked at him with charming eyes. She knew that as long as she served him well, her status in the group would definitely be greatly improved in the future.

"Oh... Jihyo... you're so good..." The manager hugged Jihyo's butt and pushed her hard as if to integrate her into his body. He felt the warmth approaching his cock, and he knew he was about to cum.

"Oppa...I'm almost there..." Jihyo swung her waist in line with his speed. She felt that her sex was getting more and more spasmodic, and a large amount of juice continued to overflow, leaving a mess on the sheets.

"Jihyo... together..." the manager growled. His cock was inserted deeply into Jihyo's body, and then he shot out waves of white turbid liquid while beating violently. Jihyo also climaxed, and her vagina was convulsing, and a large amount of nectar hit his cock.

Jihyo knew that the deal between her and her manager had been reached. She has all night to use all her tricks to please the man before tomorrow's press release. She couldn't help but sneer. It was unexpected that the usually aloof and inviolable manager could be captured by her so easily.

Jihyo looked at her manager, who was still playing with her breasts. She reached out and took hold of his cock, moving it up and down. "Oppa, do you still want Jihyo?" She deliberately licked her lips and seduced him with her flirtatious eyes.

The manager nodded immediately, with a beastly desire in his eyes. Jihyo chuckled and turned over to sit astride him. She slowly sat down holding his hard member until it was completely buried inside her body.

"Ah~" Jihyo raised her head and let out a satisfied moan. She twisted her waist and moved it up and down, letting his hard object pump inside her body. "Oppa, do you like it?" She asked, while deliberately contracting her vagina and clamping his hard object tightly.

The manager raised his head in pleasure. He held Jihyo's slender waist with both hands and moved his lower body in accordance with her rhythm. "I like it...it's so comfortable..." He murmured, feeling that his reason had left him, and now he just wanted to immerse himself in this wonderful pleasure.

Jihyo smiled softly, knowing that she had completely conquered this man. Now, as long as ahe wants something, he will give it to her without hesitation. Thinking of this, she felt a sense of pride, and at the same time she moved her waist up and down harder, trying to give this man an orgasm he would never forget.

The night was dark, and the sound of men and women having sex echoed in the room. Jihyo lay on the manager's chest and allowed him to do whatever he wanted on her. She knew that every night from now on would be like this.

"Jihyo...I want you..." the manager gasped, his harden shaft inserted deeply into Jihyo's body, hitting her sensitive spots every time. Jihyo's moans and gasps came and went, especially clear in the silent night.

Jihyo raised her body and kissed the manager's lips. She knew that this kiss represented her surrender to this man. "Oppa... Jihyo wants you too..." She murmured, holding his face in her hands and deepening the moist kiss.

"Jihyo...you are so perfect..." the manager gasped in response to her kiss, feeling that he was losing himself in this woman's tenderness. He couldn't help but think how great it would be if only he and Jihyo existed in the world.

When Jihyo heard his words, she felt a little proud in his heart. She knew that she had a firm control over this man. As long as he thinks about it, he can't leave her. This realization gave her a rush of pleasure, and she decided to celebrate tonight's victory with more intense sex.

She turned over and sat up, grabbed his hard object and sat down. She swung her waist vigorously, letting his hard object keep rubbing inside her body. "Brother... do you like Jihyo’s pussy...?" She bit her lip deliberately, letting out a sweet moan while looking at him, waiting for his answer.

‘I, I like it..." The manager was caught off guard by her sudden movements, but he quickly regained the feeling under her rhythm. He pressed Jihyo's buttocks tightly and pushed upwards in conjunction with her movements.

"Oppa... you're so big... you fill me up so much..." Jihyo deliberately slowed down, swallowing his hard object into his body inch by inch, and then spitting it out gradually. She knew that such slow thrusts could rub against his sensitive points and arouse his desires.

"Jihyo...you tortured me to death..." The manager was tortured by her until he gritted his teeth, but he didn't want to stop. Because this feeling of being dominated by her was so exciting, he was willing to be played with at will by her.

"Oppa... I will make you feel comfortable..." Jihyo smiled and sped up. She swung her waist vigorously, allowing his cock to be pumped quickly inside her body. She could feel his growing desire and knew he was almost there too.

"Oh... Jihyo..." the manager growled, his cock suddenly becoming extremely sensitive. Jihyo felt a stream of warm liquid flowing out of his cock and hitting her womb. She knew that he was about to climax just like her.

She swung her waist harder, and his cock moved in and out of her faster. She climaxed in time with his speed, and a large amount of nectar poured out of her pussy and poured onto his cock.

The two hugged each other and panted, sweat dripping from their foreheads. Jihyo leaned on his shoulder and smiled evilly, knowing she has another cock that can be used.

[spideyhexx]

where you're not Billy's (yet) and get jealous <3 mdni

Billy wasn't yours. You knew that. It helped to remind yourself that you weren't his either. You could easily find another mind to keep your company, but you could never get yourself to even try. Instead those nights, you always returned to Billy, also in his lonesome, with no other woman at his side because he would always, already be looking at you.

That's how most nights would go. You would find one another like there was a string attaching you two and you'd fall into your bed, his bed, the grass, the side of a building, honestly anywhere he can get you quick enough.

Part of you always wanted to bite the bullet. Billy's made it clear he would pursue you more than just your late-night rendezvouses but you knew who he was. The type of life he leads and you're reluctant to let that bleed into your life. Fun little relations with him did not carry the weight his love would.

It was unspoken, but Billy respected it, he took what you gave him and that was better than nothing.

So in truth, you should not have had such a visceral reaction to seeing him chat with another woman one night at the saloon. You went there specifically to seek him out, not having seen him the past week made you antsy, but the moment you stepped in, your eyes found him, leaning close to a woman who would lean up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. His smile was easy, his demeanor relaxed, the flirty kind you felt used to.

Jealousy was always a problem for you, but it's never struck you this hard. Never has it hurt like it is as you watch them together.

Against your better judgment, you left immediately, and a restless sleep made you decide to ignore the cowboy.

Billy feels the cold shoulder the very first day. He sees you in the morning just as he rides into town, "Hey, doll, wait up," he says, getting off of his horse and tying it up in a quick manner to catch up to you, but he notices you didn't stop.

He jogs over, a hand to your arm, his big, warm hand to your arm, "Doll, you hearin' good?" He chuckles a little but you don't look amused so he drops it.

"I'm busy, Billy," is all you say to him, even though it pains you to keep your emotions inside, and you walk, quicker, away.

Billy's almost too stunned to speak before he calls after you, "Hey, hey, hey, slow down I just wanted-"

"I said I'm busy," you repeat, your head turning to lock with his gaze. The last thing you catch is his shoulders slumping before you turn forward again.

The entire week Billy tries to talk to you, only to get waved off or completely ignored until he just accepts it and leaves you be. You wonder if it's better to keep him at this distance, this way you didn't fall more for him every night you spent naked with him. But the pain in ignoring him was a devil.

Especially after you hear word that he got injured. Nothing major. He was in some scuffle and all you heard was that he actually got a little beat up from it this time around compared to other times he's fought.

It made you forget your pact to ignore him, knowing how often you were the one who cleaned him up. And Billy didn't seek you out this time. Maybe you fucked up.

You try the saloon, but he's not there. Who is there though, is his friend Charlie. You're barely even thinking through your actions as you walk up to him, "Charlie?"

He turns to face you, with a small smile after realizing it's you, "What's going on?"

"Where's Billy?" You don't beat around the bush with it and you try not to sound so desperate but you're sure you do.

"Uh, I'm actually not sure. Maybe go ask George over there," Charlie nods his head at the other man and you nod, turning your mission elsewhere.

You ask the same question to George, who's also unaware of where Billy is, citing he was back at the camp they've set up a bit away from town, but he's not sure if Billy is currently there.

It feels like a complete lost cause. Maybe even feels stupider that you've asked. Without much else to do and asking around the people you knew to be friends with Billy with no luck, you make your way to a spot Billy and you would typically go to.

In the fields, a small walk from town, where you'd sit under one of the bigger trees and talk. Or fuck. Either or.

A small sliver of hope pokes at your chest that he's there, but he isn't. You let out a sigh and sat down, leaning back against the tree.

You're not sure how much time passes until the sudden sound of footsteps jolts you to your feet. Your eyes lock with Billy, his brow is furrowed, and he's almost storming towards you. It makes your chest ache with relief that he's here. It makes your chest ache with anxiety over his anger. It makes your chest ache with desire because boy was he hot when he was angry.

When he gets closer, you see the cut on his lip and the worry overtakes your emotions. You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, his hand grabbing your jaw. His touch is firm, but not enough to hurt you. Billy tilts your head up, leaving you no room to look away from him.

His words are rushed, "You were lookin' for me? You were lookin' for me, huh?" A scoff leaves his lips after he speaks. His voice is gruff, almost demanding an answer than just curiosity. You swallow your desire.

"Well. Yeah, I was, I heard you got hurt and-"

He moves in closer, close enough that your back leans against the tree and you can smell him. The slight scent of whiskey, campfire and just him was enough to get you dizzy. It's dark, but you can see the tick in his jaw and the intake of breath he gets.

"Here I am," he says, taking his hand off your jaw and gesturing to himself, "What do you want?" There's a snap to his words and you know he's angry about your avoidance of him.

"I was trying to say I heard you got hurt and I wanted to...make sure you were okay," you get your words out slowly, your eyes never leaving his as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Right. So it took me gettin' hurt for you to find me?" There's pain in his tone when he says it and it makes you shake your head.

"Billy-"

"Doll, what did I do? We were fine and then suddenly you were actin' like I fucked up bad. I can't recall anythin' I could've done to deserve that from you," he says, crowding your space till the brim of his hat bumps into your head. Billy seems to get annoyed with it so he haphazardly takes it off dropping it to the ground at your feet.

"I saw you with that...woman or whatever...you...," You take a deep breath to keep yourself in check before you start speaking again, "I went to the saloon to find you and you were all up close with some girl and I just..."

When you let yourself trail off, you glance up at him and see the anger still full in his eyes.

"I wasn't...that was Manuela. Charlie's wife, doll. Can promise you, I am not gettin' sweet with her," Billy says, his brow still furrowed. It made you feel even more embarrassed that you jumped to conclusions, but could you help it? Women flocked to Billy easily. And he wasn't yours, you tell yourself again. He lets out a humorless chuckle.

"I told you I wanted you, you know?"

"I know, but-"

"I know. But I told you. And now you're jealous. You want me too?"

Billy is almost pleading with you to just say it. He knows it. But he's in desperate need of you to finally let it out. You're quiet, your head mulling it over in a frantic manner as he stares right into your soul.

He scoffs, "Darlin' stop thinkin' so hard. 've told you before. All you gotta do is tell me and I am all yours." It feels like you can't speak, your tongue is missing completely from your mouth. Billy's frustration only seems to increase as he rolls his eyes at your silence and his jaw clenches again.

His hands move to your hips, a firm grip, as he lets out a harsh breath, "What do I gotta do? Do I have to fuck it outta you?"

Your cheeks burn at that and he hears the hitch in your breath, "Billy, I-"

"That is it, huh?" He's mocking, finding humor in how heated you get over his words, his thumbs rubbing your hips over your dress. "Been missin' me these days? Got no one to look after you? Just me."

You nod, your head lurching forward enough to brush your nose to his and it almost makes him groan. "You're pissin' me off," he mumbles, like a warning, his lips almost inching to kiss yours, but he restrains himself.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, your breath lingering on him as your hands finally move to touch him, right against his chest. You swallow hard. "Don't know if I've ever felt this much," is what you're able to get out through your laboring breath. Billy takes that as enough, for now, pressing his lips hard to yours.

It's a bruising kiss. His lip was cut and he was fighting a wince, but he did not give a fuck about the pain right now. Billy was starved without you and all he can think about is taking. He pushes you back until you're more against the tree, the bark uncomfortable but that's the least of your worries. His hands pull at your hips to bring your body flush with his, slotting his leg between yours.

His one hand moves to cradle your face, mumbling to your lips, "still pissed off," and he licks his tongue along your bottom lip, nudging under your chin to tilt your head up more.

"Good," you mutter back to him before happily opening your mouth to him, tugging on the handkerchief at his neck to pull him as close as he can be.

He hums at your words, "Oh? You like me mad or somethin' doll?" Billy's hand at your hip holds you tighter, "is that why you're doin' this to me?"

You don't answer, your lips trailing along his jaw and to his neck. Your hand grasps the back of his head, pulling his head back a little to expose more of his neck, enough to find his spot that you found. That he didn't even know about until he slept with you.

As you suck at the spot, biting the skin enough to leave the start of a mark, Billy refrains from moaning, but you hear him mumble, "fuck's sake," before he's pulling back from you and taking his belt off.

"Ground?" He takes his belt off so easily it distracts you, but you nod.

"Ground," you reply, moving yourself to the grass. Billy doesn't waste a second, taking his jacket off and laying it out so you can sit on it.

He nudges you to lay back and gets on you so quick, it makes your breath run fast. "Billy," your voice is breathy, his head burying into your neck, leaving surprisingly soft kisses as he fumbles to push his pants down.

You help the best you can, then swat his hand away to fish his cock from his underwear yourself. Billy lets out a low groan when he feels your hand wrap around him. You hum, stroking the length of him once, then twice before taking him out.

"Tell me you missed this or I think I'll actually go crazy, doll," he mutters, his kisses finding your jaw.

"Now I wanna see you go crazy," you joke under your breath, but Billy isn't having any of that.

"Fuckin'...fine. That's what you want?" His hands are under your dress in an instant, and find your undergarments, the thin linen being harshly ripped from your body.

"Billy! Did you actually rip them, I-"

"Darlin' please be fuckin' quiet," he rasps, and you pull hard on his hair in his response. He laughs.

"Missed you. Pissed at you. But still want you just as fuckin' much," he whispers, giving your cheek a kiss as he hikes your legs up around him, his hips slotting to yours.

Billy's hand finds himself, guiding his dick to rub at your clit, both of you letting out shaky sighs at the feeling. His nose smushes to your cheek, eyes stuck on you to watch you react to him.

"Oh, honey," he whispers as his tip rubs through your folds, feeling just how slick you are. The head of his cock catches at your entrance and you both moan in unison again. Billy slowly pushes the tip into you, groaning over it and helping you wrap your legs tighter to him.

"There you go. Still take it good, hm?" He doesn't let you even try to answer him as he thrusts the rest of himself into you, his knees shifting in the grass to adjust his position. Billy grips your hips hard, thumbs pressing to the underside of your thighs as he begins fuck himself into you.

A moan rattles through you, your head pushing back against the ground at his immediate quick pace. You grasp at his shoulder, your other hand tangling into his hair so you can pull it whenever he fucking quips at you.

Billy grunts, his head down and teeth nipping at your jaw, "You actually listened to me. Actually stayin' quiet besides those pretty moans. Not even talkin' back," he chuckles at it and then again when you tug his hair like he thought you would.

"'M sorry," he murmurs, leaving an affectionate kiss on your jaw. For a moment, Billy buries his cock as deep as it can be inside of you, holding still to feel you tighten around him. "That's it...you missed that?"

You nod, your words not coming, but he grips your jaw, "you can speak," he says, his hips snapping to yours, just as desperate as his kisses were before.

"I did miss it, Billy....so, so, so much."

That spurs him on as he opens your mouth with a push of his fingers at your cheeks, your eyes dazed and tongue sticking out a little like routine. Billy slows his thrusts as he spits down onto your tongue.

Before you can close your mouth, his lips and tongue are finding yours, a strangled moan leaving him and melting back into you. Billy's one hand still at your hip moves under you to wrap around, giving your body a slight angle as he fucks harder, his rhythm starting to break.

His kiss is sloppy, as is yours back, tongues a mess of massaging to one another, his teeth biting to your lip, noises tumbling from you both. He breaks the kiss to nuzzle his nose to your cheek, "please tell me you didn't fuck someone else while you were angry at me," he suddenly says, his eyes closed like he's anticipating the worse.

"I didn't," you whisper back to him, "I promise you," you assure him again, your hand rubbing through his hair.

"I didn't touch anyone," he tells you, "nothing," he pauses, giving your cheek the lightest kiss as he changes his movements, slowing down, sliding his cock out of you slowly, but pushing back in hard, his hand moving from your jaw to slip between your legs and thumb at your clit, "Just tell me."

A whimper leaves your lips when you feel his thumb, your hips bucking up, which only makes him want to fuck you faster again, but he holds back. You know what he means the moment he says to tell him and you turn your head head to nose back at him.

"I want you," you breathe out and you feel him let out a breath, his lips tenderly kissing your nose.

"Can I be yours then?" He slows even more, which makes you whine. Your eyes lock to his, his face strewn with hope and deep desire, you can feel the twitch of his cock and see the flutter of his eyes.

"Yes," you whisper to him, giving him a small smile as you ruffle your handing his hair, "then I'm yours?"

He groans at your answer and question, and his hips rock faster again, needy and full of so much want, "yes, doll, you're mine," he rasps out, "and you're gonna come just for me, yeah? I know you will, Bet you wanted me to come for you all week, I'll give you it," he gets out his words quick, your fingers digging into his hair and his shoulder.

"Billy....fuck...f-faster."

He chuckles, "Jesus, doll," he gives you a crooked smile, but obliges, rubbing your clit in tight fast circles as he ruts into you, his forehead pressing to yours.

A heat overcomes you as your orgasm washes over you, Billy smiling as he watches it overtake you. The way your mouth parts and your moan borderlines a whine, the arch of your hips to his, and the spasm of your cunt against him.

He fucks into you maybe three more times before he's pulling out of you, letting out an almost guttural moan, spilling on your thigh, the slight friction of the tip against your thigh is enough to get him hard all over again, but Billy pushes those thoughts aside to move his hands back to your face and kiss you passionately through your heavy breaths.

"Still a little pissed," he mumbles and you nudge your knee into his.

"Ow," he grins into the kiss, a bigger flush coming to his face when you start laughing.

[elderwisp]

On Repeat - an oc tag

rules are pretty simple, pick as many (or as little) oc's as you'd like and find a song that you relate to them the most! feel free to mention why too! o and tag some more ppl too! that would be cool! i tag: @goldenwaves @acidheaddd @dejasenti99 @earthmoonz @moonfromearth @stinkrascal @matchalovertrait @lynzishell @sirianasims @vicciouxs @gvaudoiin-tricou @smulie @living-undead @pralinesims @lucidicer @literalite @nepotisim @mattodore @madebycoffee @daniigh0ul @changingplumbob @yukikocloud @cinamun @moonwoodhollow @youredreamingofroo @acuar-io @raiiny-bay

deep dive below ⇣

Frances Dubois:

Something about the whimsical instrumentals backed up with the haunting vocals almost reminds me of someone stuck in a loop. There's repetition in the chorus that solidifies that feeling. I also like the juxtaposition of the French lyrics, like the second singer is aware and has a desire to change. When I think of Frances, I envision someone in limbo and part of that is the inability to make a decision. She finds herself stuck, in a way, her anxiety makes the decision for her because doing nothing is something. Whilst Icarus has helped nudge her into making decisions such as aiding her in graduating, speaking to Atlas, and supporting her in her audition. there's still this internal desire to make that move on her own. The first time we see her do that is when she decides to kiss Icarus, which in a way, pushed her back into her loop as it didn't end well. As of current events, she's avoided him since.

↬ sometimes - mattyeux and princess chelsea

Daniella Álvarez:

This song to me encapsulates someone who has had to be independent at a very young age. The beginning opens with spoken lyrics, "She asked me who's taking care of me, I said, 'I take care of me'" and whilst incredibly empowering, there's always that question of how did we get here? Dan is the eldest of two younger siblings. In fact, there's quite the age gap between her siblings and if we look at Valeria, she also looks just as youthful. Dan is the product of an unplanned pregnancy as well as a bit of a narcissistic mother. The disorderly environment in which she's been given, learning to be a caretaker of her siblings and the constant pressure of success has lead her to have self-sufficient character. Whenever I think about her dynamic with her friends, I'm reminded of this scene, and she's the glue that is trying to hold the chaos together.

↬ taken care of - suzi wu

Kai Castillo:

Christ this song is so good. The instrumentals backed up by the vocals, feels a bit somber. Throughout Tessellate, Kai hides behind the fact that he has these feelings towards Atlas and they've started to bubble over into jealousy as Atlas's relationship grows with Kai's sister, Taryn. I also love that there are a lot of comparisons here to Lucifer Morningstar and religious elements. Kai's relationship with his religion is somewhat of a paradox as he is a closeted gay man to his parents, his sister and church. In fact, he does a lot of things that would bring quite a bit disapproval. He's unforthcoming, somewhat suspicious because his secrets have given him a reason to be. His story is of one that falls from grace.

↬ i am the antichrist to you - kishi bashi

Atlas Dubois:

While Paul Julian Banks narrates a song about struggling with addiction, I noticed there's a bit of a different beat in comparison to the rest of Interpol's songs. The tempo is much slower, as if exhaustion has set in and we're barely moving along. When we meet Atlas, it's at the beginning of a fresh start, not really knowing what has happened prior. Slowly throughout, we pull back minor details that entail his complex struggles with addiction. What initially started out as a bit of fun, became all consuming, allowing any given opportunity to be a reason why he should use. The bridge of this song also discuss the contrast between himself and his partner discovering his addiction for the first time. There's also a change in his tone during that that I find to be so neat! It does remind me a bit of his relationship with Taryn. I do know that addiction lasts a lifetime, and that love doesn't solve it all, but I also know that right support is the most important.

↬ rest my chemistry - interpol

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 5

Patrick is not stupid. He knows what he feels for everyone in his life. For example, he kind of hates his parents. And he knows it’s privileged to hate your parents when you’re a rich, white man in your early twenties. But he hates the fact that there was never any laughter in his house. The meals were always quiet. The stories were always boring. The people who came to visit were always the same people. That's why he clung so much to summer vacations at Art’s place. In Art’s house, there was warmth that wasn’t in his own. In Art’s house, there was sophisticated humor and lightness that his parents couldn’t provide. In the moments he didn’t hate them, he thought they wanted to give him that too, they just didn’t know how.

Patrick also knows that every relationship in his life is temporary. Because Patrick can’t love anyone the way he loves Liana. It’s something he knows from the second his eyes met her green ones. It’s an integral part of his personality. There’s who he is in front of the whole world and there’s who he is in front of Liana. And he can’t explain it. Not really. Because if he tries to be objective, Patrick knows Liana isn’t the most beautiful girl he’s met. Tashi, his current girlfriend, is the most beautiful girl he’s met. Liana isn’t the most special girl, not the prettiest, not the most charismatic. Nothing about her is flashy or something that demands his love. But her silence grounds him. While he can break racket after racket on the court and fight with Tashi for hours about moves, argue with his parents about the direction his life is going, it takes one phone call to Liana and he remembers who he wants to be. He’s not there yet; he’s not who he wants to be. Not even close. But he’s trying to be on the right path. Anyway, Patrick knew his relationship with Tashi was temporary. It was situational at best. He didn’t deceive her, he told her from the beginning where it was going. He didn’t explain why, just said he was looking for something light. Tashi made it clear to him that she doesn’t do anything lightly. She made it clear to him again and again but Patrick chose not to listen. That’s how he found himself lying beneath her in her room, while she whispered dirty words in his ear and his hands held her ass. His eyes were closed. All he wanted was to relax and release some steam from the last few months. “I think Art and Liana are fucking,” she said suddenly, while her hand gently held his dick. She looked at him with scrutinizing eyes, seeing how his body tensed and his eyes opened. “Why do you say that?” he groaned as her hand moved faster. “I see them every day in the cafeteria. It’s cute, the way he touches her sometimes and thinks no one notices.” She continued, her lips kissing his neck with small kisses. “Where does he touch her?” Patrick found himself asking. He closed his eyes, imagining what would have happened if he had gone to Stanford too, if instead of Art, he was the one touching Liana. If Liana’s lips were the ones kissing him now. “They always sit next to each other and his hand is always on her thigh.” Tashi said, her lips merging with his, she knew he was close. His fingers automatically went to her thigh, nearing where she really wanted him. “I always think that if no one were there, Art would bend her over the table. To show her who she belongs to.” Tashi said and his fingers were already inside her, moving erratically. “Fuck, Liana.” Patrick said as the viscous fluid came out of him and Tashi quickly stood up, looking at him in disgust. “Tash…” he mumbled. Understanding what just happened now. “I should have chosen Art. But we both know who chose him instead.” She said, putting on a shirt and continuing to look at him with revulsion. “Tash, I’m sorry. You talked about her and-” “I don’t care, Patrick. You and Art need to sort your shit out and leave me alone.” She said and he nodded in response, quickly gathering his things and leaving her room.

“Okay, you look miserable. What happened with Tashi?” Art asked as they sat in the park drinking cheap beer. “Do you think I should have come to college with you guys?” Patrick responded with a question, not wanting to tell his best friend about the fiasco that happened just hours earlier in Tashi's room. “Honestly? No, Patrick. Of course not.” He chuckled and examined Patrick, who looked unsettled, a bit like a kicked dog. “It’s not that I’m stupid, I would’ve managed to finish a degree, Art,” Patrick felt the need to defend himself. His life choices so far didn't seem impressive. “I didn’t say you’re stupid, Patrick.” Art sighed, not wanting to burden his friend even more than he was burdening himself. “Honestly? It’s tough here. My schedule is crazy and now before exams, I really don’t understand why I did this to myself.” He shrugged. He wasn’t lying. This period was truly exhausting. “Your tennis has improved,” Patrick stated. He had watched part of Art’s practice earlier. Another thing that unsettled him, Art was playing much better than he did six months ago. He couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he had gone to Stanford too, instead of insisting on playing professionally too early. “The training here is insane, Patrick. Even Liana’s tennis would improve if they pushed her like this,” Art tried to lighten the mood. He started to worry. Patrick’s current mood didn’t characterize him at all. Patrick just sighed and leaned against the tree behind him. “You want to talk about it?” Art asked, running his hand nervously over his own neck. “Not really.” Patrick shrugged and closed his eyes for a second. “How is it? being here with Liana?” He dared to ask after a few seconds of silence. The two boys looked at each other. Neither of them knew how to approach the subject. It wasn’t like talking about Tashi. They talked about Tashi lightly. They both wanted her. They both were attracted to her. They both saw her as an unattainable woman. Someone who wasn’t in their league but for some reason looked their way. Threw them a bone, and they were hers. Talking about Liana was different. Neither of them wanted to talk about her with the other. “You know how it is. We’re closer than we were before. You saw yesterday, in her room.” Art said and swallowed, examining his best friend. Every movement in his expression. “Yeah, Tashi mentioned something like that…” Patrick tried to gather more details. “What did she say?” Art was curious. “Something about cafeteria meals.” Patrick’s smile wasn’t genuine; it was the kind that hides all his emotions. All the flame burning beneath the surface. “Oh, I always have extra credit in the cafeteria and Liana loves the pie they serve there.” Art smiled a similar smile. And he didn’t take his eyes off his best friend. Not fully understanding what was happening right now, but knowing that any game Patrick played, he could play too. It was a competition. It was another competition between them, only Art didn’t fully understand all its layers while Patrick knew since he was twelve. From the first time his eyes landed on Liana’s green eyes and Art stood between them. Patrick wasn’t the only one in love with Liana.

Patrick wandered around her room while Liana sat on the bed with her laptop on her lap, almost ignoring his presence but fully aware of him. He looked at the books she had on the shelves, at the gray synthetic carpet, the maroon curtains. Her room had character. “Leave my drawers alone, Pat,” she said without looking up from her computer. “Can you pay attention to me?” he asked, sitting on the chair and dragging it closer to her. “No. We had a deal. You’re supposed to be good and I’m supposed to study,” she said. In moments like these, he wondered if she knew how sexual she sounded. How dirty the things he wanted to do to her were. How many things he wanted to teach her. “I’m bored,” he found himself restraining from bluntly responding to what she said earlier about his behavior. About how bad he could really be. “Go to Tashi,” she sent him away, still not looking at him. He snatched her computer away. “Patrick.” She looked at him, furrowing her eyebrows. “Fifteen minutes of your time, Amanda. Fifteen minutes,” he smiled a smile he was pretty sure she couldn’t resist. “Fifteen minutes.” She surrendered and he moved from the chair to the bed. “Talk to me, what’s going on? Tell me about the university,” he requested, making circular motions on her arm while she let her head rest on his shoulder. “You know how it is, Patrick, I study all day. I don’t have much time for anything special.” She shrugged. “You sound worried,” he shifted a bit, making her lift her head so he could examine her closely. She looked even more exhausted than yesterday if that made sense. “Shit, Liana, you remember these exams are bullshit, right? You can’t kill yourself for a grade.” He stated. “Isn’t that exactly what you do for tennis?” she asked defensively. “It’s different.” He protested. “How is it different? You devote all of yourself to something important to you. Why can’t I do the same thing? Just because I don’t know how to hit a ball, my ambitions aren’t important?” her nerves were frayed. He didn’t understand how the conversation had heated up to the point where she raised her voice at him. “I didn’t say that,” he said quietly. “I’m supposed to choose my major. You don’t understand the level of the entrance exams for architecture. Sorry, Pat, I have to keep studying, I can’t babysit you. Go to Art if you fought with Tashi.” She took the computer and moved to the chair, ignoring his presence. “Liana, I didn’t mean…” he felt defeated, not understanding what he had done wrong. “You never mean it, Patrick. But just because I don’t play tennis doesn’t mean I’m not important.” She looked at him with those big eyes of hers. He knew her frustration wasn’t necessarily directed at him and bit his tongue. nodding in her direction. “I’m leaving tomorrow around 10 AM if you want to say goodbye…” he mumbled before leaving. Feeling a bit pathetic. But how was he supposed to explain to the girl in front of him that she and tennis weren’t even on the same level of importance in his life? How was he supposed to explain to her that she was the most important thing, when he still wasn’t the person she deserved him to be?

To all the Patrick fans of the story, how are we doing with this chapter? I really love hearing what you're thinking about this 'cause I'm obsessed with all of them. Tashi included, even if she doesn't have a big role in it. By the way- what are your thoughts about Liana in general? Art? Patrick? OK, I'm over doing it Again. Ask box is open as usual ❤️

taglist: @swetearss ganana yoitsme-04

[ashsimpsalot]

Mera naam... (Monkey man Kid X Reader)

A/n: uhhhh idk if I like it as much as coconut & honey but enjoy!

'you should never lie'

his mother once told him with angry eyes that he hated to see so much. When Kid was just 8 years old, he had lied to his poor mother about going to play near the river just in front of their humble home, instead, going off far away into the market because he wanted to buy the bangle she's been eyeing for a while.

He's been a proper good boy, he swore, he helped Mr Deepesh, their next door neighbour, by cleaning up his chicken coop for money. He didn't mean to worry her.

'You shouldn't lie to the people you love, even when you think it's for a good reason, a lie is a lie,' she had worriedly say while hugging her boy to her chest.

He didn't think those words would haunt him 20 years later. Kid didn't even mean to lie to you, he didn't even mean to fall for you, but he had, and his lies only bury him into a deeper hole.

"Bobby? You're ready to go?" your sweet voice snapped him out of his thoughts, the beer he's been nursing while you pack up the kitchen still in his hand.

"yeah," he nods, giving you a small smile. You wrapped your hands around his arm so easily as if you've been doing it for years, in reality it's only been 4 months.

4 months of lies

4 months of love

His mind wandered back to how he got here, with your hands wrapped around his arm, heading for your motorcycle. Was it that night? When he first entered his shift, he noticed you eyeing him. He didn't think much of it, you were a chef after all. You could've just been curious about the new staff.

Was it when he keeps staring at you too? Unintentionally?

But it's definitely when you start smiling at him. He's never had any other thought than revenge then this.. You... You happened.

"hey handsome, where's your mind travelling to?" you asked so sweetly he didn't even mind. Kid didn't know much about himself but he knew he hated when anyone else interrupt his thought process, not you though, never you.

Kid smiled and shook his head. "nowhere, right here," he covered it up with a quick peck on your lips and took your helmet from you, placing it onto your head and pinning it on for you, then with a stupid smile on his face he lifted the visor to boop your nose. You chuckled.

Fuck, is this love? This overwhelming feeling over the slightest thing you do?

He put on his own helmet and got on the bike, waiting till you get on too. His waist never felt so empty until you wrapped your arms around them.

4 months ago he didn't even have his own room, now he's heading to "our store" getting off the bike and ordering "the usual" and going straight to "our spot"

He doesn't even know who he is anymore.

Your kiss on his lips brought him back to reality.

"congrats, baby, on making it to VIP floor." you said with a smile on your lips.

If only you knew why he wanted to be on VIP floor so bad.

"thank you, jaan," he whispered softly, arms around your waist, swaying left to right lightly as if dancing to a song. He leaned down and kissed you again. "what's this? What's wrong?" damn you, you always somehow knew, your finger tracing his eyebrows as if to pull the frown out of his face.

He didn't know what to say. Tell you what? He's not at all who you think he is? He's plotting to kill a man? Burn the hotel? Kill one of the most influential fucking man in India?

"hey, you can tell me, Bobby, I'm here," you called that name so lovingly he had to physically fight from flinching.

In a perfect world where he isn't such a coward he'll open his mouth and tell you the truth but the truth is he's just that, a coward.

"i swear it's nothing, jaanu, just... Tired," he smiled and hugged you burying his nose in your neck, scared that he'll forget what you smell like once you find out who he is.

Your fingers snaked into his curls, playing with them like always, like it's yours, like he's yours.

"I've got you, always," you whispered into his ear, planting a soft kiss after.

He hope you meant that

Because after almost 2 months of disappearing, hiding from the police in the temple with the hijras, he's back, at your house, knocking.

You opened the door, you looked great but your eyes looks almost dead, somber.

"jaanu," that's all he could whisper, seeing you again is...

You tried to close the door but his reflexes made him able to hold the door open.

"please, please just let me explain myself"

You looked at him and scoff. "explain what? I don't even know who you are, what could you possibly say to me? What was your plan? Kill Rana and pin it on me or something? Is that it?" your voice gets shakier and shakier by each sentence, your grip on the door loosen. Kid quickly shook his head.

"no, no, never, jaanu," he had wrapped his arms around your crying figure, his body is half through the door, cupping your cheek and tenderly caressed your tears away.

"I trusted you! I loved you!" you cried out and all he could do was hold onto you while you smack your fists on his chest again and again.

"I know, i know," he whispered, he lead you inside as you limped against him.

On the couch he held you, tighter than usual, he lets you cry onto his chest, not caring about the condition of his shirt.

"you didn't call, you didn't explain, you just vanished, I thought you fucking died!" you cried out.

"I know jaan, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" thats all he can offer. He kept whispering apologies and sweet nothings into your ear until you end up falling asleep on his chest. He laid you down on the couch, planted a soft kiss on your forehead and went to the kitchen. Skillfully manoeuvring through your kitchen, making a meal as he's been there countless of time. He didn't keep track of time, only glancing at the clock when he hears a croak of your voice calling his 'name'.

"I'm here jaan," Kid said walking towards the couch to see your eyes teared again.

"I thought you left again," you said with a whine in your voice, he sat next to you, arm pulling your towards him to kiss your head. "I'm here," he repeated.

"I went to make you some food, it's pretty early I don't think you've eaten," he explained, you simply nodded.

"I... I want you to explain to me who you are and what's happening." you said voice beyond tired.

"my name isn't Bobby,"

"yeah no shit," you scoffed, he only nodded, he's glad really, you're letting him hold you, touch you that's a good sign, right?

" my name... Is Kid. I worked at Queenie's hotel because I'm... Plotting revenge on Rana and Baba shakti. For killing my mother." his voice grew quieter and quieter. The obvious pain in his voice when he mentioned his mother.

"my hands," you looked at those hands, his scarred hands he meant, the ones you would plant kisses on after a night of passion, the ones you loved so much. "they got hurt when I tried to put out the fire my mother was set on... By Rana Singh," he said, face grew harder, voice turned colder.

You stared into his eyes. "Kid," you tried calling his name. He looked at you, all attention on you as if nothing else matters.

"I swear I didn't mean to rope you into this. I didn't mean to hurt you, I couldn't... I couldn't stay away from you, I tried. You consume me, my thoughts, I've never thought of anything else but revenge all my life and you walked into it and make me feel alive again. As if I could have any other life than just death after revenge. I never wanted to live but when I hold you I feel this fear of death that I've never felt before. Understand that all was real, my feelings for you was real, is real," he begged, his hands on your cheeks again.

"but you tried to kill him anyway, why?"

He shook his head. "when I saw him. When I saw that bastard I lost it. Why does he get to live his life while my mother is ashes somewhere on the forest floor?" he grunted, face angered.

You do what you always does, your finger start tracing his eyebrows, his face visibly soften. Like he could breathe again. He took your other hand and kissed it, leaning into your touch. He had been craving you, and you knew. "you're going after him again aren't you?"

"yeah" was all he could breathe out.

You sighed but you understood. The rage he has, it's all he knows.

"will you come back?"

His face lighten. "you want me to?" he asks, hopeful.

"always, always come back to me."

"but I'll be a fugitive by then," he said worried, he's not sure worried that you'll change your mind or that you'll be a fugitive too if you chose to follow him.

You shook your head. "I don't care, come back, we'll run together, I rather not live without you by my side. But Kid.."

"hm?" he asked, looking at you intently with your hands on his. "don't lie to me ever again. Ever." you warned.

He nodded his head and pulled you into him. "never, jaanu." he kissed you deeply, deeper than he ever did that day, lead your body the way he missed. He devoured you full that day, passion spilling into physical touches. He need you to understand his love. He needs you to scream his name. His real name.

[gauloiseblue]

Every Day, You'll Hear Me Say

(Kyle Garrick × Reader)

[Fluff | No Warnings Apply]

On the day of their marriage, when the newlyweds were asked about how they met, their stories would be touching. Some loves bloomed at the first sight, some had existed long before they even realized it.

Yours, however, began with a comedic story.

It was early in the morning on Thursday, just one day after you moved to the new place. You were exhausted from all the cleaning and moving boxes, and you'd sleep the whole day if not for your growling belly. You couldn't possibly go too far, so you settle with the sandwich bar near your apartment.

You didn't pay that much attention to your surroundings, moreover to the other customer beside you. So when you heard your name being called, you grabbed the order without looking. It's not until you took a bite that you noticed the mistake.

"I didn't order this." You told the staff, and she furrowed her brows.

"You're Reese, right?"

You nodded.

She looked just as confused as you, before the other staff came and flusteredly explained the situation.

"I'm sorry, we got your order mixed up with the man here. His name is also Reese."

You turned your head to the side, and saw the man she referred to. There was a trace of surprise in his face, but it's been replaced with amusement, for an obvious reason.

You felt your face heated up, as you covered your mouth.

"Oh my God." You stuttered, "I'm so sorry, I didn't know—"

"It's alright, you look starving." He chuckled, before he reassured the staff when they apologized.

"Let me buy you a new one."

"No, it's really ok." He smiled, "My treat."

You tried to pay him back, but you ended up with two sandwiches. And one drink.

At the table, you apologized to him once again, but he shrugged it off.

"Don't worry about it, it's just a small thing." He told you, "You should worry about yourself, you look like you could faint at any time."

You rubbed your neck as you looked away, "I haven't slept since I moved here, so…"

"No wonder you look unfamiliar." He said, "So, your name's Reese?"

"No, that's my Starbucks name." You sheepishly smiled, "I assume yours is Reese?"

"No." He softly laughed, "It's also my Starbucks name."

"Really?" You said in surprise, "It's not Reese?"

He shook his head. "Why? Does the name suit me?"

"Kind of." You replied, "You look rather sweet."

You slapped your hand on your mouth as you realized what you just said.

"No, I mean—it’s not like that—I didn't mean it that way or whatever—" You groaned, "This is embarrassing."

"That's alright, I used that name for that reason.” He said, “My friend once did an experiment by asking strangers if I looked like Reese or my real name, and most of them answered Reese." He grinned as he quipped, "One of them even told me that he wanted to “eat me up” because I reminded him of Reese's."

"What," Your eyes widened at his story, before you burst into laughter, "Wait, did someone really say that?"

"Why would I lie?" He smirked as he took a sip of his drink, "What about you? Why did you use that name?"

You scratched your cheek, "It's for a boring reason, really."

"Tell me anyway."

Just like that, your story began with a simple talk.

You'd laugh whenever it’s being retold—either by you or by him. Because your version was different from his, and both of them were amusing. For you, it was an embarrassing day. But for him, it was the best day of his life. You’d kick him under the table for saying such cheesy things, yet a wide grin would betray you as you scold him.

Of course, it’s not the only story worth telling, since it’s just the beginning.

The next story is much less interesting, but memorable still.

On a particular morning, you bumped into him in the hallway. He's in his sportswear, with sweats still forming on his forehead. He had a thin hoodie on him, and kept his hands inside the pocket. You wouldn't look at him twice if the bump in his pouch wasn't bean shaped.

It didn't take long before his pocket whined, which, that itself was impossible. Unless something else was inside that pouch.

"I, uh—I have to go." He quickly fumbled, "See ya around."

"Wait—"

Before you could stop him, he already disappeared behind his door. Leaving you in the hallway, dumbfounded.

Though it didn't take long for you to figure out what it was. Since the smuggled item was quite vocal.

A few days later, as you took a shower, you heard a high-pitched howl from next-door. Along with the lecture from your neighbor.

"I wouldn't do this if you didn't roll in the dirt, Lou."

A loud protest soon followed, as well as a splash.

"Alright." You could hear him sigh, "I'll give you a treat after this, yeah? How's that sound?"

From that moment, the fuss slowly died down, as gentle coos replaced the argument.

"Good girl."

You quietly chuckled, as you washed off the remaining bubbles. While you reached out to grab the towel, the thought of treats came up to your mind.

Maybe the pup would love blueberries.

The next day, when you made your way to your door, you slipped a bag onto his door handle, with a sticky note attached to it.

You could remember exactly what was written in it, but you received the reply not long after. "Thank you for the gift." He told you, as you both retrieved letters from the mailbox, "She likes it very much."

You raised a brow at him, before you caught the context.

"Oh." You muttered out before you smiled, "I'm glad to hear it."

You both stared at each other, and would continue to do so if he didn't chance it.

"Do you want to meet her?"

The question rolled out with a slight tremble, as if he's both eager and hesitant about it. You studied him for a moment, before deciding on the answer.

"Yes," You said, "If you don't mind."

Which seemed to hit the mark, since his doubts were quick to disappear.

You couldn't get why he was unsure at the beginning, but you later found out that pets weren't allowed in the buildings.

The little pup is a mixed breed, with dark eyes and 4-colored furs. She wagged her tail when she saw you, and he had to scooped her up to quiet her down.

As you both settled back, he told you the story of how he found her, while you played with the pup.

“When I saw her on the side of the road, I knew something was off. She was too young to be left alone, and even if she was left unattended, she wouldn’t have strayed too far from the rest.” He said as he scratched her ear, “My only guess is that she’s left there by her previous owner, for whatever reason.”

“That’s so cruel.” You frowned, “Why couldn’t they put her into adoption or something?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, “But I suspected she came from an illegal farm, which means she had no birth certificate.” He explained, “Most adoption centers won't accept dogs from unknown sources, and sending them to the shelter would be a lot of work, since you’d have to write the admissions.”

“So they just threw her away?”

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t think about it too much. It already happened, and there’s nothing I could do to change it.” He chuckled when she started nibbling his thumb, “Besides, it’s more important for me to give her home. That’s the least I can do for her.”

You looked at him as you quietly observed how he stroked her cheek. If he’s the one who cared for her, then there's no doubt she’s found her home.

There’s a saying that a simple gesture could mirror someone’s heart, and it’s not hard to see when it comes to him. At that time, you couldn’t explain why you had the urge to help him, all you knew was you wanted to. At least for Lou.

Negotiating wasn’t your forte, but after many bribes and sweet talks, you managed to convince the landlord to allow him to keep the pup. You arrived at his door right after you got the written permission, in which you showed him with a proud grin.

“You don’t have to play hide and seek anymore.” You told him, “You have the permit.”

He read the letter carefully, before he turned to you, wide-eyed.

“How did you get this?”

“Pure luck, I guess.” You scratched your cheek.

“Come on, you expect me to believe it?” He chuckled, “How am I gonna repay you for this.”

“You don’t have to.” You added when he’s about to protest, “Think of it as my way to return the favor.”

“Still, it’s too much.” He muttered, “Let me buy you dinner.”

The automatic response that you thought was to refuse him, but something stopped you from doing it. You stared at him in silence, with your mind running miles an hour.

“Please?”

It’s still curious how a single word could slap some sense into you. Because at that very moment, you understood your own feelings.

Oh, You thought. That’s why.

Without further knock-back, you accepted his offer.

The details of what happened during that night are fuzzy in your memory, since your head was swarmed with the thought of him. But you remember walking into your room, with a slip of paper and a loud heartbeat on your hand.

It wasn't hard to see how you'd struggle with a simple message that night. But it all paid off the moment his reply popped out.

Since that day, texting him would be a part of your routine. Whether it's a long conversation, or simply a good morning. Sometimes he asked you to keep him company on the evening walk, sometimes he asked you whether you're up for dinner. On weekends, you'd join him in the park—where Lou could run freely. He'd bring the sandwiches from the bistro, and you'd giggle when you read the name 'Reese' on the wrap.

Months would pass, and all the moments you shared would come to a pause.

It was 9:34 PM when you heard a knock on your door. You smiled as you thought of the suspect, and while you got it right, the mood that's reflected on his face was far from what you expected.

"What's wrong?" You asked.

It took a moment for him before he uttered a few words.

"I need your help."

It was a simple request, take care of Lou, but the way he said it was dreadful. As if he'd be gone for long.

"I can't take her to the dog care because I have to leave now. You can drop her off tomorrow, but please, keep her for tonight." He told you, "Here's my spare key, you can find whatever you need for Lou. I've put the money on the table, you can use it for her daycare."

"Where are you going?" You frowned, "When will you be back?"

"Airport." He looked away, "Got a call from my boss, saying it's urgent. I don't know when I'll be back, it can take a month or so." He shook his head, "If I don't come back… No, forget it. I'll leave it to you."

That night, you could only watch him as the elevator door slowly closed. Despite the haste in his steps, his face didn't mirror the same eagerness.

When you entered his place, you found Lou on the tousled cover. She curled up by the empty space, where the owner was supposed to be. For a moment, you thought of moving her to your room. But you decided against it.

You spent the night on the couch, reading the message he left on the table. He had given you an address to the pet care, along with the money he mentioned. It's still puzzling how he could entrust everything to you—so easily, that you could take it for granted.

You turned your head to the bedroom, where the pup slept soundly on his bed. She had no clue that he had left, and you doubted that she's prepared for it. And if you took her to the care, would she understand it? Would she know that it's only for temporary?

With your fist tightened, you chose to let her stay.

It's not for a noble reason, rather, you couldn't bring yourself to leave her in an unfamiliar place. You scolded yourself for being sentimental, but you’ve been with her long enough that you’ve grown fond of her. One month shouldn’t be long, you could handle it just fine.

And it’s true. One month wouldn’t be a problem for you. Alas, he didn’t come back on the supposed day. The marked number on your calendar had been crossed, and still, no news from him. The messages you wrote were sent, but never received. You’d stare at his profile, as you read the word ‘OFF’ on the status.

Each day, you worry would grow as you glanced at the date. What if something had happened to him? And if he doesn't come back, what would become of Lou?

As you turned your calendar page, you felt the apprehension when you saw the month. Twelve more days, and it’d be exactly three months after he left.

The pup sensed it too, as she whined whenever she passed his door. You tried to overlook her cry, until you couldn’t. You retrieved the spare key from your safe, and headed over to his place.

The room was still the same as you left before, though it felt a little bit colder. You brought the pup down and closed the door behind.

Lou dashed to his room with a wagged tail, as she followed the lingering scent of him. You followed her behind, and stopped on your track the moment you saw her pawing at his wardrobe.

“You shouldn’t open that, Lou.” You stated as you lifted her up, “It’s impolite.”

She writhed around in your hold, before letting out a low whine.

“I know.” You murmured, “I miss him too.”

You plumped down on the sofa, before you rested your head on the arm pillow. The scent of him still lingered on the fabric, and you curled up against it. Lou snuggled closer to you, as she slipped under your arm. You smiled when she began to yawn, you glanced at the clock and caught the arms in the shape of a tilted V.

It’s almost midnight, and you should’ve gone back to your room. But something tempted you to stay, lulling you to rest. To close your eyes, even for a moment. Like clockwork, you slipped into nothingness when you gave in.

At this point, with all the past tense that you’ve used, it shouldn’t be a surprise when the story will come to an end. As cliché as it might sound, he really did come back that night. Although much later, near the dawn.

When you rose up from your sleep, you felt the weight on your body that wasn’t present before. You tried to shift away from it, but it seemed to be on top of you. When you peeked through your lashes, a mass of grey came into your view.

You leaped from the couch as you recognized the cover. It was a blanket, and you’re one-hundred percent sure that you last saw it in his bedroom.

“Good morning.”

Until now, nothing could beat the speed of your stare as you snapped your head towards him.

He was standing by the table in comfortable sweats, with Lou nestled in his arms. There were plates on the table, and you were hit by the delectable smell of food.

“Are you hungry?” He put a metal plate down, before lowering her to the ground.

Still dazed, you ended up answering with another question. “When—” You gulped, “Since when did you come back?”

He turned to the clock, then back to you, “2 hours ago.”

“Oh.” you rubbed your face, and brushed your hair to the back. “Um, sorry I didn’t hear you.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He offered you a glass of water, and you took it while you murmured a small thanks.

“You didn’t take her to the pet care.”

You lowered the glass after a few gulps. “Um.” You scratched your neck, “I felt bad leaving her by herself, so I took her with me. Besides, you didn’t tell me how long you’d be away.” You muttered the last part.

He chuckled when he caught it. “I’m sorry, I should’ve informed you beforehand.”

The two of you exchanged a look, which you couldn’t look away from. The heat started to rise, as it painted your cheeks in red. There’s something between you and him, something vague but palpable at the same time—

“Thank you.”

You blinked, as the thick air dissipated from you.

“For taking care of her.” He added, “I owe you one."

At that time, you didn't quite catch the underlying meaning of his words. Only years after that—as you laid beside him, with a new ring on your finger—you finally found the answer.

"You told me that the day you realized you like me was the day I gave you my number." He started, as he stroked your cheek tenderly, "And when you asked me the same question, I said I've loved you ever since you took my sandwich. But I only realized it the moment I came home to you sleeping. I was beyond exhausted that day, both physical and mentally. I thought I'd collapse when I came back, but as I walked through the door, all my tiredness just disappeared. In my mind, I was expecting to see an empty home. So you can imagine how surprised I was when I saw you there.

"You might not know it, but your presence means so much to me. I wasn't brave enough to say thank you, for being there for me, so I said whatever's appropriate at that time. But in my heart I knew; you're the one I'm gonna marry."

[cryscendo]

klaine and a risky kiss between forbidden lovers…..perhapssssss…perchance……

so you said “forbidden lovers” and i heard “angel and demon au” naturally. so that’s what this is i hope you enjoy <3

Pairing: Kurt Hummel/Blaine Anderson

Word Count: 1596

Rating: M (for minor sexual themes)

if you’d like to request a fic, check out the prompt list here!

fic can be read under the cut <3

Kurt is the worst, Blaine has decided. He’s arrogant and entitled and absolutely goes against everything that Blaine stands for.

And he’s also a literal demon from Hell. That feels important to mention.

Things have settled between Heaven and Hell in the recent decades. Which, by all accounts, is a good thing. However, that is not to say that there isn’t an undercurrent of something sinister brewing, quite literally, just beneath the surface. Hell has been a bit too quiet and that is setting off some serious red flags to the angels upstairs. So for that, many angels, Blaine himself included, have been sent down to Earth for reconnaissance purposes.

Kurt should not be here.

And not because demons shouldn’t be on Earth. That goes without saying, but they traipse the human-land all the time anyway so it’s not really worth discussing. They’re going to do whatever the hell they want.

No, Kurt shouldn’t be here. Around a collection of other angels that most definitely are not going to be too fond of seeing him. See, Kurt wasn’t always a demon. But as it would turn out, falling from grace can have some very complicated side effects.

Blaine could sense him immediately. How could he not? Kurt managed to be all around him at all times. It was as frustrating as it was intoxicating. Blaine allots himself so little decadence in his life that when Kurt enters his psyche, it becomes a bit overwhelming.

An angel’s job is to serve — to be subservient. Which is probably why Kurt never fit the mold.

But Blaine could practically taste him now. Granted, he’s had practice.

Blaine did his best to slink away from the other angels that congregated in this little run down dive bar. Hiding in plain sight; that was always the methodology. To an innocent, naïve onlooker, Blaine and his fellow men were just a bunch of guys getting drinks together. That was all just a very well-placed façade however. Blaine was working, for lack of a better term. Or rather trying to work, if it weren’t for the incessant presence nearby.

He should ignore it. He shouldn’t entertain Kurt in this way.

He found him. Kurt was tucked away in a corner at the bar, just out of sight of the tables of angels. Any of them would be able to sense Kurt if they were searching for him. He was playing a dangerous game, but Blaine suspected that Kurt already knew that.

“What are you doing here?” Blaine questioned, not interested in playing any games.

Kurt, however, didn’t seem to have the same sentiment. He merely sipped his drink casually before turning towards Blaine, haunting silvery-blue eyes meeting his own. “What, can’t a guy get a drink every now and again?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Blaine stated, giving off an air of no-nonsense.

Kurt sighs in exasperation, rolling his eyes. “Is it such an ordeal that I should want to come see you, angel? I heard you were coming down to visit, and I just couldn’t stay away.”

“How’d you hear that?”

Kurt grinned up at him pridefully. “I happen to still have friends in high places,” he said pleasantly. “Next time you see Mercedes while you’re prancing around up there, let her know that I’d love to see her soon. It’s been far too long.” Kurt pats the open seat next to him at the bar. “Now sit. I doubt we will have long before your little friends come looking for you, and I’d really like to chat for a minute.”

Blaine considered rejecting Kurt’s offer. He most definitely didn’t need the distraction. However, after looking back at the table of angels and deducing that they had yet to notice his departure, he apprehensively sat down. Kurt looked all too excited about this.

“So I’m going to ask again, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Kurt countered, tipping his drink towards Blaine to further punctuate his statement. “I must say, angel, this isn’t really your scene. I picture you more in a white gown singing hymns in a cathedral while the heavens open up and cast a glimmering light right down on you. However, this…” Kurt tugged playfully at Blaine’s bowtie. “… is an adorable look on you as well.”

It was then that Blaine was finally able to properly take stock of what Kurt was wearing. Red and black always suited him, and it looked beautiful on him now. Black lace-up boots with black jeans only allowed for his crimson button up to stand out vividly. He looked every bit the demon that he was supposed to be. Alluring, feline, Blaine was painfully familiar with it.

“Working,” was all that Blaine offered in response.

Kurt scoffed. “Aren’t you always? That’s all you seem to do these days.”

“You know how the job goes,” reminded Blaine.

The sigh that Kurt released was one that indicated that he really did in fact know. “Well, that’s a damn shame. I’ve missed having you around.” Kurt set down his drink on the bar and moved his hand to slide up Blaine’s thigh. He looked incredibly relaxed like this, but Blaine could feel the tension Kurt was feeling from having so many angels that hated him in such close proximity. Kurt looked past Blaine towards the table and gave a brief moment of hesitation.

“You really shouldn’t be hanging out around here, y’know. It’s not safe. They’ll kill you if they see you.” Kurt didn’t let on how nervous he was, but he didn’t need to. When Kurt fell, he sacrificed a lot of his power in the fall. He was no match for an angel, no matter how coy he played.

Kurt gave a squeeze to Blaine’s thigh. “I don’t know how you stick around with that crowd. Are you not miserable?” It wasn’t a question that necessitated a response, so Blaine didn’t give one. “They’re all so truly obsessed with me.”

Blaine couldn’t help but grin at Kurt’s comment. “Well, I suppose that’s what happens when you end up on Heaven’s Most Wanted.”

“I’m wanted?” Kurt asked, obviously leaning into a teasing tone. “Well, I must say I’m flattered. But unfortunately for Heaven, I fear I am already spoken for.”

“That right?” Blaine questions, allowing himself to play along with Kurt’s game just this once.

“Oh sure. The guy is a real angel,” Kurt taunted, sparing another look towards the group of divinity, ensuring they weren’t catching wind of Blaine’s absence. They hadn’t yet, but they surely didn’t have long. Then, Kurt’s tone shifted into something far more serious and subtly desperate as he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Leave them and come with me.”

Blaine knew this was coming, but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Kurt interrogated, his voice hushed and grave. The hand on Blaine’s thigh slid up to cup over his clothed crotch, though Kurt made no move to squeeze as he had been before. Kurt’s actions and his words contradicted one another, furthering the reality that Kurt was a storm of contradictions. “You can’t honestly tell me you’re happy like this? Serving a being who you’ve never met and likely doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

“Well, are you any happier now than you were before the fall?” Kurt bit at his lip then, casting a glance at the table of angels and then back to Blaine. Then, Kurt finally pushed on, giving a quick squeeze of Blaine’s cock through fabric, earning a low groan past Blaine’s lips. To an outsider, they just looked like a couple that was getting a bit too handsy in public. Unfortunately, it went far deeper than that.

Kurt whispered, his lips just a few short inches away from Blaine’s. “I could be. I miss you,” he confessed. Blaine missed him too. He really, really did. He slid a hand along Kurt’s arm, feeling the tense muscles there. They didn’t really have time for this.

“You need to make yourself disappear,” Blaine lamented a bit painfully.

Kurt bristled at his words. “Fine,” he said in a clipped tone. He pressed against Blaine’s cock with his palm again with determination, earning another muffled noise from the angel. “But understand this, Blaine, you’re going to realize that Heaven isn’t all it's cracked up to be one day, and when you do, I’ll be the one that you’ll seek out for guidance. It’s always going to be me.”

Suddenly, as if they were forced together by the magnetism of heated glances and adrenaline, their lips crashed together in a forceful kiss. It was always like this, with them saying a bitter goodbye that is sealed with star-crossed affections. That certainly didn’t make it any easier no matter how many times they played this game.

But Kurt was right. It was always going to be him.

The kiss lingered for some time. The touch, which had started off as rough and primal, melted into something a bit more gentle, emotional, intimate. Blaine allowed himself to sink into the taste of Kurt on his lips. He tasted of alcohol mixed with something venomously divine.

Eventually and far too soon, Kurt moved away. They locked eyes for a moment before Kurt finally stood.

“Well, until next time, angel,” he said simply. A hand grazed gently across Blaine’s cheek as Kurt brushed by him. But when Blaine turned to watch after him, Kurt had already done what Blaine suggested, and made himself disappear.

[yuri-is-online]

Reading the Room at a 5th Grade Level: MC's Curse and Taiga's Memory Issues???

Hi. My name is Yuri and I am an idiot. You see, when I downloaded Tokyo Debunker and I saw what happened to the MC I was confused. "Why did everything go red?" I asked myself. "It's like we were in another dimension!" I unhelpfully said at some point probably. Well I finally googled the name of the station the MC said "was not her usual stop" and guess what? I should have done that way fucking sooner because it's related to a Japanese urban legend, much like Takeru in Episode 2. And helps me with what I noticed yesterday while I was re-reading the Hotarubi episode.

This post contains spoilers for Hotarubi's Episode, viewer discretion is advised.

When the MC is contacted by the spirit who allegedly curses her she is riding the train home from a concert. She receives a text message from someone with a spider lily profile picture, in English their user name is "Mina." Before we are confronted by Mina, the conductor announces that the train's next stop is Kisaragi Station, a station that dear reader, does not exist. It's also extremely famous! But I am not smart or up to date on horror things so I didn't know (⁄ ⁄•⁄-⁄•⁄ ⁄) so sorry if this is all stuff you guys already knew.

Kisaragi Station

The original post about Kisaragi station was, as best I can tell, made on a site called 2chan, which is a Japanese anonymous forum. I was able to find a post about it on r/nosleep from 2019 which claims that people started posting about it on reddit in 2010, and another post on Quora translating a thread that was posted to twitter. There are a few common themes to the urban legend, but there are three I find particularly relevant to our situation.

The station is believed to be on the border of our world and the "other world." It is possible to leave the station, we will get into how in a moment, but attempting to leave it by following the train tracks will get you killed. Especially if you attempt to cross through the train tunnel, that will take you across the point of no return. The original post describes hearing the sound of drums and bells, similar to a Japanese festival, that get louder the closer you get to the tunnel. Accepting rides from people in the vicinity of the station will also kill you. Cell service is active in the area, but you aren't able to find location information and people will not be able to find you. The anomaly on the train we see isn't tied to Kisaragi Station as far as I can tell, and I have been combing through various yokai to see if I can find anything like it but so far I haven't had much luck.

Back to how to leave the station, you have to light something on fire. Specifically something that causes smoke. Paper seems to be the most common suggestion. It's a small detail, but since the game starts with us seeing the school on fire I thought it was an interesting thing to note.

I added Taiga into the title of the post as in the translated twitter thread, the concept of memory loss the longer you stay in Kisaragi is brought up. We never actually see Taiga leave the station, and the MC only leaves it because Haku does something with his artifact. In Episode 5 Haku says he was not using his stigma to put the children's spirits to rest, implying that spiritual energy adn stigmas are different powers he can use. I am going to propose something kind of crazy at the end of this entire post about Haku, but for now just dealing with the facts presented in game he specifically says he "cordoned off" the area. Does he mean that he took the train to Kisaragi station? Or was MC always going there? And if he was the one responsible for doing that then uh. How did Taiga leave the station and get back to Darkwick? Was he trapped there and did he wander around for a long time, doing permanent damage to his memory in the process? Or am I over thinking this and he lost track of the anomaly and lit something on fire so he could leave. I like the idea of him lighting the station on fire and the ghosts asking him to leave, but that's probably not what happened lol

Red

When the train reaches Kisaragi Station in game, the color pallet swaps to red. Much like it does in Episode 5 when MC receives a certain visitor:

We learn later on that this is Zenji, and that Zenji is dead. MC seems to be reacting to his presence and I would like to think that the color choice is deliberate. If we go back to Episode 2, Takeru only has light amounts of red shading around him in his comic panels, when he kills the streamer and when Alan beats the shit out of him are two that immediately come to mind. Interacting with him does not turn the world red like interacting with Zenji or Kisaragi Station does, further strengthening Leo's conclusion about him being a Talupa and not a ghost as this red tint seems to be used for when MC is interacting with the spirit world. Which I am once again asking, how did Taiga get home from Kisaragi Station? Did he carjack a Taxi ghost?

This raises some questions about the anomaly that cursed MC. Is it a ghost and is it something unique to Japan? And if neither of those things are true then why was Haku there? I can think of two reasons for him to be there: the first is if he is there to keep an eye on Taiga for Cornelius/the Institute because Sinostra is on probation but they need him (he was specifically assigned this mission because of how aggressive he is) or it was meant to be a Hotarubi mission because it fit their criteria but Haku couldn't handle it so they arranged for Taiga to come along with him. That last thing is sort of countered by Haku saying that he doesn't think Hotarubi would be able to help with the MC's curse, but he could be lying about that I suppose.

Anyway who wants to hear my really stupid out there reason for why Haku is there-

The Part of the Show Where I do a line of coke Cope

So hear me out, what if Haku's stigma is time travel. So in this post on the subreddit donsaadali suggested that the powers you pick from in the personality test are powers the ring could give MC. I had the thought before that maybe it was a list of stigmas that the various characters had completely forgetting about the time travel line. But it does sort of fit with my line of thinking: make people follow my orders? That's Jin. Elemental powers? Towa. The others: extreme luck, never having to sleep, shapeshifting, and gravity control aren't ones that we have concrete information about but I am tempted to say that "extreme luck" could be Taiga, as turning things into ammo struck me as a quality of his artifact and not his stigma but I'm not really convinced of that. Anyway, if Haku can time travel, he could go back in time, pick up MC, and bring her back to Darkwick even if that's not what happened in the first place and Taiga was the one who brought her back the first time! But why he would do that is lost on me. Well not completely lost, I do think he wants to "help" her but with what and why is not something I have a theory on just yet.

To be clear, that was just me spitballing. I do not really think that Haku's stigma is time travel, there isn't enough evidence for me to think that. I do think that if there is a timeloop going on he is probably aware of it, but again. I don't know why.

Sources

Translated original post (x)

The above post also has a youtube video linked at the top if you want an audio version of the post and some other train related stories

Translated Twitter thread (x)

Shitty r/nosleep post (x)

[anonymousewrites]

Burden of Truth Pride Special 2024

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Pride Special 2024

            “So, what adventures did you get up to today?” said Steven, smiling at (Y/N).

            “I found a skatepark. I met other teenagers,” said (Y/N), taking a bite of their apple.

            “That’s lovely,” said Steven. “I keep telling you to try to meet new people your age, make friends. Will you see them again?”

            (Y/N) tilted their head. “How would I know?”

            “…Well, you make plans with friends. Or, well, you make friends first, and then you make plans,” said Steven.

            “How do I do that?” asked (Y/N).

            “Uh, you—”

            “Don’t act like we know how to make friends,” interjected Marc from a mirror.

            Steven grimaced. “Okay, maybe we don’t…Still, that doesn’t mean (Y/N) shouldn’t have friends.”

            “You guys are my friends,” said (Y/N) plainly.

            “I feel bad for you if we’re your only friends,” said Marc.

            “I have Layla,” said (Y/N).

            “She’s cool,” said Steven, brightening.

            “Can you name literally anyone who wasn’t involved in illegal activities?” said Marc.

            “I don’t meet people outside of illegal activities, so how would I know anyone like that?” said (Y/N), tilting their head.

            “Maybe we should have insisted you go to school…” said Steven.

            “I already know everything, though,” said (Y/N), blinking.

            Marc sighed. This was going in circles because (Y/N) still had no idea that the way they interacted with people wasn’t what most considered “normal,” and, as a teenager, they should have friends their age who don’t nearly get themselves killed. Unfortunately, (Y/N) simply did not see things in that way and did not see social expectations as anything more than a confusing script they didn’t have.

            “I’m going to send you to a karate dojo or something. Maybe that will help,” muttered Marc.

            Steven chuckled. Marc was so protective but wanted (Y/N) to have a good life. They both did. “Despite all that, I’m glad you had some fun. Any plans for adventures tomorrow?”

            (Y/N) pulled on their sweater sleeves, and Marc and Steven recognized the telltale sign of anxiety.

            “What is it?” said Marc, instantly on edge.

            It wasn’t like (Y/N) to put make stupid decisions, but they did have a bad habit of putting themself in danger in order to help others, so he didn’t want them to start doing that again if he could help it. (Y/N) was in London with them to have a normal life, free of danger. He wouldn’t let (Y/N) lose that.

            “London Pride is tomorrow,” said (Y/N) quietly. “I…I wanted to go.” Still couldn’t lie.

            Steven smiled. “I’ll take you. Or Marc. Whoever makes you feel more secure.”

            “You would want to come?” said (Y/N), glancing at him.

            “Yes,” said Steven. “Marc and I support you. Every part of you. Of course we’d want to come.”

            “We don’t care about that,” said Marc. “You’re (Y/N). That’s what matters to us.”

            Truth.

            (Y/N) smiled slightly. They were glad they had Marc and Steven.

l

            (Y/N) and Marc walked towards Pride. Steven and Marc had bickered over who got to front while they went to the parade, but they ended up agreeing to let Marc go with (Y/N) in case someone was rude to (Y/N) due to their identity. Marc was the right person to handle that—and he’d do it with pleasure. No one hurt (Y/N) on his watch.

            (Y/N) walked hesitantly towards the parade, and Marc nudged them forward. As it went by with music playing and confetti falling through the air, Marc kept an eye on them. If this was too overwhelming a crowd, Marc would get them out.

            But instead, (Y/N) began to smile. And Marc did, too. In the reflection of a window, Steven smiled as well. Marc noticed a stand beside them and stepped over. Quickly, he bought something and brought it back over to (Y/N).

            They were still staring, spellbound, at the people celebrating their identity. After so long with just having a purpose as an Avatar, (Y/N) got to be themself. More accurately, they were discovering who they were. And they knew part of it wasn’t like some people. Their presentation to others didn’t fit the binary, and the way their brain worked was different, too. (Y/N) understood that.

            But they could be who they were. And these were people who were proud of themselves. (Y/N) could be proud, too.

            Marc returned to their side and draped a rainbow flag over their shoulders. “There you go, kid.”

            (Y/N) looked at it, blinked, and held it closer around their shoulders. “Thank you.”

            “No problem, kid,” said Marc, smiling.

            “We’re proud of you,” said Steven, smiling in the window.

            (Y/N) smiled and leaned into Marc. They were discovering who they were. And they had a good family support group with them.

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

@oscarissac2099

@amberforest08

@kyalov

@yyourmotherr

@im-making-an-effort

@the-toskaverse

@wra-1-th

@noodleryworld

[geddy-leesbian]

since June 1st is the birthday I've had picked out for the twins in my rockstar/actor!Luis AU, here's a quick lil drabble of their fourth birthday 💖

The second he opens the door to the playroom, Luis is bombarded by the twins. Both of them are wearing their poofy, sparkly, fancy princess dresses; Juliana's is purple, and Belén's is pink. He takes it like a champ, immediately grinning and kneeling down to hug them and kiss the tops of their heads.

“Birthday girls!” Luis ruffles their hair and notices something. “Where did your tiaras you had this morning go?!”

“Up there,” Leon says, pointing to the top of their adorable, on-theme castle shaped bookshelf. “Had to take them away because they kept taking them off and trying to beat each other with them.”

“Slander. My sweet princesses would never do such a thing.” Luis says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Leon rolls his eyes. The twins were good kids, never had any problems with other kids at preschool, but they did like to rough house with each other. It was perfectly normal for their age so they didn't punish them for it and mostly let it play out, but Leon or Luis always had to watch closely to make sure they didn't accidentally get too rough and actually hurt each other. Which usually just meant taking away whatever objects they decided were makeshift weapons.

“Papi! Papi!” Juliana suddenly shouts right into Luis's ear, making him wince. She was definitely Luis's daughter. With each passing day, she looked more and more like him. Her sister retained her pale complexion and light red hair, but Juliana's had darkened as she aged. Now she has dark brown hair and warm tanned skin only a little bit lighter than her father's. She took after him in personality too, always talking, usually obnoxiously loudly too. “Can we ride horses now? Please? We wanted to before but Daddy said we had to wait for you.”

“No, no!” Belén jumps in. “Sing for us?”

“No! Horses!”

Leon gets a little misty eyed watching the scene unfold. They know it's their birthday. The special occasion is why they've got their full princess costumes on, and Leon kept hyping them up all day, reminding them that Papi had a surprise work thing, but as soon as he got home there would be birthday presents and cake. Now he's home, and the twins just want the same things he does with most normal days.

“It's okay, princesses, no fighting! We do both! Horses in a few minutes, music when we're done. Then cake and presents! I see Daddy already braided your hair, so go to your room and get changed, then get your helmets and boots on,” The twins run off, giving Luis space to greet Leon with a kiss on the cheek. Leon isn't even showing yet, but that doesn't stop Luis from rubbing his belly to greet their third that's now on the way. “Hey, mi amor, I love you. I got the living room decorated before coming back here, but seems like they really want out there for a bit, before we get going on birthday festivities. I know you feel too anxious to ride now, but are you up for going out and walking with us?”

“Yeah,” While he didn't let it show, Leon was just as eager as the twins to get out there. Though he didn't grow up with access to a horse like Luis did, he'd quickly come around and really enjoyed the family time they had doing trail rides. They had two horses, so Leon would ride with one twin in front of him, and Luis would ride with the other twin. He wasn't going to just give that up, he was happy to walk beside holding the reins to lead one horse, since the twins weren't ready to ride on their own. “I can definitely handle that. And I'm sorry you have to come home from work and immediately have to do a bunch of shit for them with no break. Would've gotten the decorations up myself and taken them outside to run around and get some energy out before you got home, but this damn first trimester fatigue is kicking my ass. I'll be fine walking, just didn't have the energy for chasing them around.”

“You're so stupid sometimes. You should know by now that doing things for and with them is a break for me. I'm sorry, that I had to spend the first half of their birthday on the movie set instead of here celebrating, giving you a break to nap…”

“It's okay, your movie is important too. I'm excited to see it. I'm tired, but I'll live. How's your voice going to be though? Don't want you wearing it out, they'll be okay if they go right from horses to presents with no singing.”

“It's their birthday, they want me to sing, I'm going to sing. My voice is okay. Today was just last minute reshoots of something the director randomly decided he didn't like. There was no singing, soundtrack was done weeks ago.”

When the twins come back into the room, Luis fusses over their helmets, making sure they're on properly. Then Leon heads for the living room with them. He grins when he sees the living room. Luis, of course, went all out, filling the room with so much glittery pink shit. Balloons, streamers, banners with their names, a small piñata… Leon half expects the girls to get distracted by it all and not want to go outside anymore, but they appear to be hell bent on getting horse time and go right to the front door without hesitation.

While Luis changes into his boots, Leon grabs the twins’ hands and starts walking out, knowing Luis is a fast enough walker to catch up easily. They inherited Luis's tendency to wander and run off outside, so Leon always insisted on holding their hands for even the shortest of walks outside. (Luis was less strict about it, believing a little bit of childhood wandering was healthy, but accepting of Leon's desire to be more cautious.)

[justinefrischmanngf]

it is EMBARRASSING how much i lose my mind when people notice things about me

[autismserenity]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[mostly-imagines]

Guard Dog vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II

3 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader

“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”

You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.

You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”

He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”

“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”

You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”

“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”

You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”

He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.

You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.

You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.

He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.

You laugh lightly, “What?”

He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”

You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.

“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”

He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”

“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.

He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”

You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”

He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”

“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.

“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.

No, it’s not fair at all.

It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.

You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—

The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.

You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.

“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”

He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.

He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.

He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.

“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.

You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”

You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”

He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.

He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.

Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.

He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.

As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.

You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.

Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.

He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.

He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.

He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”

You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.

The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.

And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.

At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.

You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.

Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.

He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.

He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are worried now, more than usual.

You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.

“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”

His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”

You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”

His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”

“Jason—”

“Who did it?”

“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”

The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.

“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.

“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.

He stares at you. “In the hallway?”

You blink. “…Yeah?”

He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.

You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.

“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.

He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.

“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.

He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.

The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.

Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.

Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.

You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.

You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.

Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”

No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.

“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.

He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”

You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.

“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.

You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.

This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.

“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.

You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”

“Is that a yes?”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”

He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.

You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”

Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.

“Hey, bud.”

He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.

Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?��

He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”

He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”

He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”

Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.

Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steels his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”

The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”

Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”

“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?

Hood stands, making his way across the room casually. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” He clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”

Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.

“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.

Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.

Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”

Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.

[inkskinned]

kids remind me, often, of the things i've taught myself out of.

i have a big dog. he looks like a deer. he is taller than most young children. while we were on a trail the other day, a boy coming our direction saw us and froze. he took a step back and said: "i'm feeling nervous. your - your dog is kind of big."

goblin and i both stopped walking immediately. "he is kind of a big dog," i admitted. "he's called a greyhound. they are gentle but they are pretty tall, which is kind of scary, you're right. their legs are so long because they are made for running fast. i am sorry we scared you. would you like us to stand still while you move past us, or would you feel more safe in your body if we move and you stay still?'

"oh. i didn't know that about - greyhounds. i think i ... i want to stay still," he said. at this point, his adult had caught up to us. "i'm nervous about the dog," he told her, "so i'm - i'm gonna stay still." she didn't argue. she didn't make fun of him. she just smiled at him and at me and held his hand while goblin and i, with as wide of a berth as we could make, crept our way through.

behind us, i heard him exhale a deep breath and kind of laugh - "he was really big, huh? she said it's because greyhounds have to go fast."

"he was big," she said. "i understand why that could have made you a little scared."

"yeah. next time i - next time do you think i could maybe ask to touch him? when - i mean, next time, maybe, if i'm not nervous."

later, going to a work event, in the big city, i stood outside, trembling. my social anxiety as a caught bird in my chest. i took a deep breath and turned to my coworker. she's not even really my friend yet. i told her: "i feel nervous about this. i am not used to meeting new people, ever since covid."

she laughed, but not in a mean way. she said she was nervous too. she reached her hand out and held mine, and we both took another deep breath and walked in like that, interlinked. a few people asked us - together? - and i told the truth: i feel nervous, and she's helping. over and over i watched people relax too, admitting i feel really kind of shy lately actually, thank you for saying that.

the next time i go to an event, and i feel a little scared, i ask right away: wanna hold hands? this feels a little dangerous. i hesitate less. i don't hide it as much. i watch for other people who are also nervous and say - it's kinda hard, huh?

i know, logically, i'm not good at asking for help. but i am also not good at noticing when i need help. i've trained myself out of asking completely, but i've also trained myself to never accept my own fears or excuses. i have trained myself to tamp down every anxiety and just-push-through. i don't know what i'm protecting myself from - just that i never think to admit it to anyone.

but every person on earth occasionally needs comfort. every person on earth occasionally needs connection. many of us were taught independence is the same thing as never needing anything.

each of us should have had an adult who heard - i feel nervous and held our hand and asked us how we could be helped to feel safe. no judgement, and no chiding. many of us did not. many of us were punished for the ways that we seemed "weak".

but here is something: i am an adult now. and i get nervous a lot, actually. and if you are an adult and you are feeling a little nervous - come talk to me. we can hold hands and figure out what will help us feel safe in our bodies. and maybe, next time, if we're brave, we can pet the dog that's passing.