#payday's not for another few days as well

[superbat-lmao]

When Batman “abducts” Jason, he offers him a deal. Since Jason is concerned about staying with Bruce Wayne, and to show that he’s not abandoning the child to be trafficked, he agrees to a “wellness check” once a week, for an hour.

Anything that Bruce Wayne does that makes Jason uncomfortable, he can report to Batman. And if he does any of the things Jason’s worried about, Batman gives him a panic button.

At the first welfare visit, Batman asks about how Jason is acclimating to the manor.

It takes a lot of prodding for Jason to admit that he wants a lock on his door and that he likes Alfred. That he can’t tell what Bruce is thinking a lot of the time and he doesn’t like the ominous silences.

What’s truly crazy, is that after the meeting, Alfred asks him to help install a lock on his door that only works from the inside. And the next day, when he sees Bruce at breakfast, the man starts recounting some of his day at work, regardless of if Jason joins in. He lays out his plans for the day and his reasoning. Just, talks about innocuous things.

He asks Batman what he shared with Bruce at the next meeting. Batman tells him that he spoke with Alfred about the lock but with Bruce about voicing his thoughts more. He asks if it helped.

Jason says yes, but he’s confused as to why Bruce would want to change at all. Or why Batman told him about those sorts of things. After all, they weren’t that big of a deal.

And Batman tries to explain that Jason shouldn’t be uncomfortable. That his goal is to make sure he’s not just safe, but happy.

Slowly, over the course of a few months, Jason opens up to Batman about different things. Everything he confesses is fixed, whether it be people he knew on the streets being arrested or helped out or even just small things about Bruce, like how he doesn’t make any noise when he walks and keeps startling him.

Jason feels himself relaxing around Batman of all people. He even looks forward to their weekly welfare checks so he can ask about the people he knew in Crime Alley.

He’s also making progress on the Alfred front since he’s allowing him to wash his own dishes and teaching him to cook.

But Bruce remains a problem.

He doesn’t know what it is. He’s really trying to trust the guy, he’s done everything Jason has asked of him through Batman. Everything, no matter how stupid Jason felt asking for it.

So he asks Batman what’s wrong with him. He tells him he wants to like Bruce, he really does, there’s nothing wrong with the guy. Batman was right. He’s just some awkward lonely dude in a giant house. So why won’t his mind let Jason trust him?

Batman tells him that trauma doesn’t work like that. That Jason may never fully trust Bruce, and that isn’t either of their faults. He’s trying, and that’s more than enough.

It all comes to a head when Alfred takes Jason shopping and their errands run pretty long. Jason just needs so much stuff, apparently.

It’s just starting to get dark out and he’s helping Alfred with the shopping by putting the cart away while he closes the trunk when he feels hands around his mouth.

He bites down as hard as he can against the gloves but it doesn’t help. There are two men and he can hear Alfred calling him, but he’s suddenly in another vehicle and he’s having trouble breathing.

He feels along the inside of his hoodie for his panic button and presses it.

There’s a lot of jeering and talk amongst his kidnappers, they’re excited for a payday. And Jason was easy pickings.

The ransom is a video where Jason is wearing a gag and told to briefly look into the camera while people talk over him, making threats and demands.

He knows something is wrong when all the lights go out in the room. He feels hands around him and starts to kick out until he’s face to face with a shadow he’s seen before. Batman is here for him.

Jason goes boneless in the hold and Batman gets him outside.

No one realized one of the kidnappers had made it onto the roof. Batman takes one bullet in the shoulder before they’re both in the Batmobile. Jason is crying and holding gauze to the hole in the armor while Batman talks softly and assures him he’s fine. Jason has no clue how the car gets them away but he’s thankful he doesn’t have to figure out what to do except put pressure on the wound.

When the doors to the batmobile open, Alfred is there and hauling them into what looks like a chrome emergency room. There are medical cots and equipment everywhere.

Alfred start pulling away the armor and Jason sits in shock as the cowl is removed and Batman sits before him as Bruce Wayne.

He’s gently shooed out of the medical section and sits down on what appears to be training mats. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Alfred comes to fetch him and Bruce is no longer in danger from the bullet.

Bruce looks exhausted in the moment before he sees Jason and his expression clears entirely. Jason feels a numb sort of dread spill over him as he realizes the implications of what he’s seeing. All of the things he’d admitted. All of the things Bruce had done for him. That if the bullet had struck somewhere else he’d be all alone.

He’s crying again and finally Bruce’s face changes into something that isn’t that awful blankness. He looks like he’s in pain but he reaches his arm out towards Jason anyway.

And Jason practically folds into him, crying into the bandages Alfred had wrapped around Bruce.

Bruce is whispering things into his hair. Gentle things. Kind things. Reassurances and asking if Jason is okay, because he was the one who was kidnapped, the one who had been snatched from a parking lot.

But Jason can’t process it, any of it. So he stays there, crying into Bruce’s uninjured shoulder until he’s scooped up into the medical cot to cry into his chest too.

There will have to be several long conversations about everything that had happened, but they would have to wait until tomorrow.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 (sold separately)

[tinalbion]

'𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤' ||

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Baby Billy Freeman x afab!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄! Minors, do NOT interact! Baby Billy is alone at the Zion Resort. Playful flirting, cat-and-mouse teasing, smut with plot, drinking, unprotected p in v, cowgirl, fast developing feelings

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 11.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're on a mini vacation before you attend your best friend's wedding -alone. You think you'd have an uneventful weekend until you make the move of buying a guy a drink, mostly out of pity, but that only causes him to pursue you relentlessly. Will you even consider entertaining the idea, or kick this washed-up 80s star to the curb?

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

                                                                                                          

Every thirty goddamn minutes was excruciating considering the Florida heat was getting to the man, the sun beating down on him as he sang his heart out, and no one seemed to give a shit as they waded in the pool.

Baby Billy Freeman was a force to be reckoned with, he knew it, but no one else seemed to understand it, so after finishing a rather beautiful rendition of ‘There’ll Come A Payday’, he looked around and sighed heavily out of frustration. The outfit he wore began clinging to his sweaty form and he angrily tore it off, the humidity starting to affect him as he walked back toward the shaded bar, groaning and cursing under his breath. 

Baby Billy threw the part of the costume down onto the stool next to him as he grumbled and ordered one of the drinks from the bar. Of course, it was all free for him since he lived in the beachfront penthouse at this resort. 

But he was struggling and he wasn’t sure where to go next. He was bored, this was ridiculous. “Thinkin’ they can stash me away in some fancy-ass penthouse sippin’ on pina coladas all damn day, this ain't what I want…” 

The bartender slid the drink toward him and Baby Billy grabbed it, sipping at it as he stared off, trying to think of another way to get his life straight and get the fame he so well deserved. The Gemstones pushed him here, making him think fame and money would come rolling in, but the reality of coming into fame at a place like this was nonexistent. He was tired. It wasn't supposed to be like this, he wanted to enjoy performing, to make others happy with his performances. Instead, he was met with nothing while people swam and splashed about. 

Of all the resorts you happened to look into while traveling, you didn't think you'd stay at a Christian-themed resort, but your grandparents had a penthouse here and allowed you to use it while they vacationed elsewhere in Europe. All you needed was their ID card and you were set. All expenses paid, free food, free drinks, you were living it up. The religious aspect didn't bother you so much, even the people seemed to be pleasant, and who wouldn't be while on vacation? It was just temporary anyway, considering you'd been invited to a friend's wedding while you were down here. You had taken a few extra days to stay at the resort and get some ‘you’ time in before having to go to your friend's place.

You'd caught the tail end of the performance as you sat down at the shaded bar, facing toward the pool as you ordered one of the more expensive fruity drinks you could get your hands on. You happily sipped on it as you were lost in thought, scrolling on your phone as you mindlessly searched for something to do in the area. 

Grumbling and cursing caught your attention as Baby Billy, the performer, put his costume on the stool beside him. He looked disheveled, exhausted, and very irate. You looked at him as he removed his large tinted glasses, taking in his face as he wiped the sweat from his brow, and you caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were gorgeous, you couldn't help but stare as he looked down at the bar and allowed himself to decompress. 

When the bartender walked by, you caught his attention and spoke low, hoping that Baby Billy wouldn't overhear. The bartender nodded and walked away, doing as you instructed, which led you to watch the entire scene unfold. 

The young man walked over toward Baby Billy with a very fruity and very alcoholic drink, sliding it to him with a smile. 

“I didn't order this,” he said as he looked up in confusion. 

“Compliments from the young woman over there,” he said as he leaned over to point toward you. 

You gave a little wave and smiled softly, looking almost embarrassed that you were called out. You hoped he would enjoy the drink at least, considering how tired he looked. He needed to take the edge off. 

Baby Billy eyed you up and gave a flirtatious smirk as he grabbed the drink and made his way over to your seat. He leaned against the bar and stared down at you in your bathing suit. “Well, I just had to come over and thank you,” he greeted with that Southern charm, and then he looked you over, his eyes gazing over your body. “Oh my Lord in heaven, I must be lookin’ at an angel. ‘Cause ain't no way God put somethin’ this fine on Earth without leavin’ a warning label. The name is Baby Billy. Baby Billy Freeman.”

You grabbed his hand and shook it with a large smile across your face as you gave him your name in return. “I bought you the drink because you looked like you were having a rough day, I wanted to be nice and help you take the edge off.” You looked over at the pool and then back at him. “You're a great singer.”

He chuckled and found you absolutely amusing. “Well, ain't that about the sweetest thing I've heard. Thank you, sweetheart, how very kind.” He slipped into the seat beside you and smiled wide. “Hope you don't mind me sittin’ here, wanted to thank you properly for the drink an’ all.” He tilted his sunglasses down just enough to make meaningful eye contact with you and gave you one of those blinding smiles he’d give to poor, unsuspecting women. “You know, there’s somethin’ about destiny, the good Lord led me to this resort, on this day, at this very moment, just so I could meet you. I feel it deep in here,” he said as he dramatically patted his chest.

“Of course, have a seat,” you said with a smile, “the more the merrier. I'm just killing time on my own before I go to a friend's wedding in a few days.” You brushed off his charm, trying not to let him sweet talk you into whatever it is he wanted, but you had to admit, he was charming.

“Oh, you ain't from here, huh?” He asked as he leaned against the counter, his eyes glued to your face. 

You shook your head with a smile. “Nope, I live about a thousand miles away,” you hummed and sipped at your drink. 

“A thousand? Damn, that's far for a weddin’, ain't it?” 

“Yeah well, when you barely get out like I do, you jump at the opportunity to get out as much as possible.” You played with the straw that hung from your glass, feeling a bit nervous being around such a strong presence, but he also made you feel at ease the more you spoke. You mentioned where you were from and his eyes just about lit up. 

“Well, I welcome you to Zion's Landing, sweetheart. You need anything, you let me know, yeah?” He shot you a wink behind his glasses and smiled wide. “You know, I was a big deal in the 80s, you ever hear of Amiee-Lee and Baby Billy? We had a tour and everythin’,” he explained, talking about his past stardom. “I did a show there back in the day where you’re from—biggest crowd you ever saw,” he said as he gestured a wave before him, talking about how the crowd back in those days were true believers of entertainers. 

You couldn't help but be charmed by this man, and as much as you told yourself you didn't want to get too friendly with anyone on your trip, there was something about this man that pulled at you no matter how hard you tried to pull away.

After a while of sitting and chatting about his past fame, where he is now, and all about you, you looked at your phone as your stomach began to gurgle. “Ooh, I need to go and eat, but it was lovely speaking with you, Baby Billy. You stay here, right? I’d love to see you around while I’m in town.” 

“Sugar, you let Baby Billy take care of you. You ain't gotta lift a finger while I'm around,” he said with that sweet accent and deep tone, looking at you like you were a Godsend. “Anythin’ you need, remember that,” he said as he pointed a finger at you. 

With a small wave and a flirtatious smile, you slid from the seat and walked off, going to get your hands on some food. Baby Billy watched as you walked off, hoping he'd get to see you before you left the resort. He let out a sigh and decided to call it a day from performing the rest of his shows, it wasn't like anyone could fire him for skipping a few today, so he remained at the bar to finish his drink, and then he headed up to his room for a cool shower.

Dinnertime rolled around and you had taken the opportunity to walk around the large dining area, looking around the large group of people, hoping you'd see your new friend before you sat down and became engrossed in your phone. You could even invite him to dine with you if he wanted to, but you hadn't seen him around as you walked through the dining hall. As you gathered your food, you sat down near the edge of the room, looking down at your plate as you felt content with your day, the window giving you a sight of the far-off palm trees. You sat at a dimly lit table, sipping your drink, watching the waves roll in. The place was classy for a resort like this—white tablecloths, soft music, and waiters in all color-coordinated outfits.

You suddenly heard your name being called as Baby Billy walked by your table, a plate of food in his hands as he wore a crisp outfit; a white getup with gold accents that looked like he was about to perform on the Vegas strip. “Well, well, well… If it ain’t my favorite vacation angel sittin’ here lookin’ like a whole meal. Surprised you sat out here with the rest of the tourists.” His tone was light and teasing as he sat across from you, smiling wide as he stared at you through his tinted glasses. “Now, sugar, I gotta ask… Did you really think you were gonna sit here all by yourself and not have me come over? ’Cause I gotta tell ya—I ain’t one for lettin’ a good thing slip by.”

Your smile grew as you looked up at him and gestured for him to sit across from you. “Well, hey! I was hoping to see you again,” you mused with a slight blush across your cheeks. “How were the rest of your shows? I wanted to catch more, but I'm not used to all the sun and I ended up taking a nap,” you laughed.

“I ended up takin’ a well-deserved break, actually.” 

“Oh, well, good, I didn't miss anything,” you said with a warm smile. “Though after seeing you like that today, I think you deserved a well-earned break.”

He looked across at you with a gaze that was undeniable; you were causing him to feel absolutely smitten with you. “Well, that's mighty sweet of you, darlin’,” he laughed in reply. “Now I ain't one to typically let loose like this, but I was thinkin’ about it earlier and I said to hell with it, you know? Besides, I gotta keep my time open for you an’ all. Lord, look at you sittin’ there all pretty. You tryin’ to make me fall in love?” 

Your smile grew as you tried to brush off the relentless flirting, you’d never been bombarded with such sweet talk by a man before, not to this degree. You cleared your throat and took a sip of your drink, trying to remain composed. “Ahh well, you’re way too sweet, now,” you said with a slight chuckle that followed. “You really know how to make a woman blush. Almost seems like you want something,” you said playfully.

“Gotta make sure I let the real pretty ones know I mean business.” Baby Billy nodded and took a bite of the food in front of him, eyeing you over the rims of his glasses once again. “And of course, I want somethin’,  I was thinkin’, maybe you'd like to join me in my penthouse this evenin’? Or there's a hot tub outside, we could sit and chat, get to know each other.” 

You couldn't hide the blush in your cheeks as he asked. “Oh, all you want from me is my attention, huh? I'd love that, yeah. A nice hot tub get-together.” You wouldn't pass that up, especially since you'd been thinking about him all afternoon and couldn’t get him out of your head. You didn't have a specific type of person that you found attractive, and older men weren't out of the question for you, so who knew where you'd end up by the end of this trip? A little vacation fling wouldn't kill you, maybe he was thinking the same. 

“Good, that's wonderful!” He replied with excitement. “How about after dinner, you get changed into your little bathing suit and meet me in the main lobby?” He offered. “My penthouse is on the top floor, so I wouldn't make you go all the way up there.”

“Mine is also on the top floor,” you replied with a hum. “Room 613.”

“Well I’ll be damned, I'm 619! Practically neighbors. I could meet you at your door, then,” he offered.

You noticed he barely touched his food because he was too busy watching you. Every time you took a bite, he just smirked and continued to watch you, you tried not to pay too much attention to it, but you finally managed to stop him from talking long enough to ask him if he was going to eat.

“Mmm, now see, I like a woman who enjoys her food. You just keep on eatin’, sugar. I’ll just sit here and admire the view.”

That made you scoff and you just shook your head. His flirting was so over the top, and he laid it on thick no matter what he said to you. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at a couple of his comments, but that smile on your face only made him keep pushing it, he wanted to keep seeing that smile. 

He sat back in his chair and looked at you for a moment as he mulled things over in his mind. “Goin’ to sit in a hot tub with a pretty little thing like you, I'd be a damn fool to pass this up,” Baby Billy laughed. “Anytime you wanna cozy up to ol’ Baby Billy, you name the time and place,” he said with a smirk  

“Well, I suppose we’ll see how cozy we can get tonight,” you said, your tone now bordering flirtatious. “How about half an hour after we finish eating, gives me time to prep.” 

“What'chu preppin’ for?” He teased. "Doesn't look like you'd need to get ready for much, already lookin’ as beautiful as ever.” 

You scoffed and shook your head. “Oh, you're sweet, but you know you don't have to butter me up further,” you said with a wide smirk. 

You just laughed and shook your head at how ridiculous he sounded, the drinks in your system making you feel warm, fuzzy, and just very relaxed. You know how to hold your liquor, mama didn’t raise no punk bitch, as you said plenty of times before, but sitting here with this strangely charming Southern man made you feel good. 

At some point in your conversation with Baby Billy, you took notice that his button-up had become less buttoned and it hung open, revealing a gold chain hanging around his neck and just enough to reveal the hairs he had on his chest. You couldn’t help but stare at him as your eyes drifted, but they always flickered back up to his, and you swore you could see something shift in his expression whenever you met his gaze. 

Baby Billy leaned forward as he rested an elbow on the table. "Now, sugar, I gotta ask—were you sittin’ here all by your lonesome, hopin’ I’d find you, or were you tryna avoid me?"

You just smiled wider and took a sip of your drink, giving a nonchalant shrug. “What if I said both?” You asked playfully. 

The man let out a small bark of laughter and leaned slightly closer as he rested on the table, his eyes glued to yours, he couldn’t break the gaze even if he wanted to. "Oh, now see, that ain't fair. You're tellin’ me you wanted me and didn’t want me at the same time? Now, what kinda mixed signals is that?"

You raised an eyebrow at his statement, wanting to tease him further. "The kind that keeps you guessing."

Baby Billy placed a hand over his heart, grinning ear to ear as he mocked dramatically. "Lord have mercy, you tryna put me in an early grave? Woman like you, keepin’ a man on his toes like this? My heart can’t take it!” Baby Billy took a sip of his fruity and very alcoholic drink as he eyed you. “You know, a young thing like you flirtin' with an old man like me, it's making me think that you might actually want to be around me,” he hummed with a gleaming smile. 

You leaned forward slightly, looking at him across the table as you threaded your fingers beneath your chin. “Well, I accepted your hot tub invitation, didn't I?” you asked with a gentle tone. “I mean, if you were here with a wife, I would've seen a ring on your finger, but there's a slight tan line, so that means you're freshly divorced OR you're cheating on your spouse and hiding the ring, which means she isn’t here.”

He stared at you, completely taken aback by what you said, and his eyes flickered down to his bare ring finger, the obvious tan line now looking as if it were brighter and fresher the more he stared down at it. It was true, he'd run away from his previous relationship, but he didn’t think anyone would clock that little tidbit, he’d put it behind him and had forgotten all about it. He seemed embarrassed that you saw right through him that he looked down at the food in front of him, stunned in silence. 

Your eyes widened and you reached your hand out, grabbing his gently. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a jerk about it, I was just making an observation. I do want to be around you, I just don't want to come between a marriage,” you assured. 

Your hand resting on his made that familiar feeling stir within him, the one he got when he'd see a pretty thing that distracted him from everything around him, the only thing that mattered was that pretty distraction. He looked up at you and swore he could feel something different stirring within him. No woman had ever been so brash with him, so real. 

“Well, now… ain’t you observant…” He smirked over at you, trying to get a read on you, but he couldn’t. If you weren’t so sweet to him, he would find it infuriating. "Ain’t no scandal, if that’s what you’re askin’. Just means I’m freshly out of a bad investment."

You leaned in a little closer, listening intently. “A bad investment?”

Baby Billy sat there, half-smirking, but there was a flicker of something real underneath it all as he flexed his fingers, as the obvious line would just disappear if he willed it to. "Yeah, sugar. Cost me a lot, too—money, time, energy… piece of my pride, if I’m bein’ honest." He tapped his ring finger against the table, let out a sigh, and then looked at you directly with that smile now faded. "But that chapter’s closed now. That’s why I’m here, sorta,  livin’ a little, tryin’ to… I don’t know. Remember what it feels like to be Baby Billy again."

You nodded along to his explanation, yet still weary of the fact that he seemed to be thinking about the past, and you didn’t realize just how fresh it was. "And what exactly does ‘being Baby Billy’ mean?"

"Oh, you know… talkin’ a big game, makin’ beautiful women laugh, sittin’ at fancy dinners, pretendin’ the past don’t got no hold on me." He lifted his glass, but he didn’t take a sip, he just stared at the liquid for a second. "Ain’t workin’ too well, though, is it?"

You laughed at that, wishing you could lie and pretend this never came up, but that wasn’t who you were, no, you were always the honest type. So you leaned back in your chair as you watched him with a measured gaze. "So tell me, Billy—are you sitting here with me because you actually want to be here? Or are you just trying to forget her?"

Baby Billy paused, his usual bravado flickering, just for a second as he studied you, the playful smirk gone, replaced with something unreadable. Then, slow and deliberate, he reached across the table and took your hand. "Now, sugar… I ain’t gonna lie to you. I came here for a few reasons, and one of them was to try and forget somethin’.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles, thoughtfully, like he’d been working something out in his head. "But then I sat down, started talkin’ to you… and, well… turns out I don’t wanna forget a damn thing about tonight.” The skin around his eyes crinkled as he watched you carefully. “Damn, you’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

You let out a small, breathy laugh. “It's not the worst thing I've been called, so I'll take it.”

Baby Billy looked at you, his stare softer. “No, I mean it. You're nothin’ like the people around here, all these damn tourists who don’t have another thought or an idea in their head. Don't know nothin’ about me, just chattin’ me up all sweet and bein’ so honest. It’s refreshing.”

“Whoever didn't like you for you were fools,” you said with a soft smile. “I like you already and we just met today.” What harm would it be to put on a little flirting of your own? A vacation fling wasn’t exactly in the cards, but who were you to say no to a little fun?

“Now hold on just a minute. You mean to tell me… you actually like me? Like, for real? Baby, don’t play with me, my heart can’t take that kinda trickery.” 

“Oh, what’s not to like?” you asked playfully. “A talented man, a relentless flirt, charming as all hell– pardon my French,” you said with a short giggle.

He was smiling, laughing it up as he took one of the napkins from beneath his plate and began to scribble on it with a pen he produced from his pocket, still talking with you as his attention flickered from you to whatever he was doing. 

You peeked over at him and smiled wide. “What are you up to?” 

He slid his hand over the napkin and smirked up at you, clicking his tongue. “It ain’t polite to peek just yet, angel baby,” he teased and finished up a few more strokes and then slid it to you as he folded it. “Open it when you get to your room.”

“Ominous but I like it,” you replied, slipping it into your pocket. “But I’ll meet you in a half hour, okay?”

“Yeah, can’t wait,” Baby Billy said with a gleaming smile. “I’ll be countin’ down the minutes.”

You stood in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror as if something would look out of place, then you’d cancel. Your mind was racing with so many things, so many thoughts, you weren’t sure why you were suddenly feeling so self-conscious, but you looked over yourself once more before you took a deep breath and packed your beach bag, hoping that you were making the right choice here. 

Your eyes looked down at the napkin he handed you earlier, the quickly scrawled words on them were still so neat despite the pen working against the napkin paper, and it brought a smile to your face. It was a scramble of lyrics written for you that seemed so cheesy and over the top, but you couldn’t stop smiling. 

‘I was chasin’ sunsets, toes in the sand—a man with a Bible and no real plan.

Then you walked by with a smile so bright, and I thought, “Lord, You work in a mysterious light”

Heaven sent on holiday, a blessing wrapped in sun and waves. Didn’t plan to find love today, But God works in the strangest ways’

The smile on your face grew wider as you folded up the napkin and placed it back into your bag, wanting to keep it close to you, even if this night came to nothing, you still had the memory of Baby Billy. You met your gaze back in the mirror and you chewed on your lip softly, mulling the idea back and forth in your head. You wondered if this was the right typing to do, leading this man on, but the thrill of him was too much to give up. Maybe that spoke volumes of just how picky you’d been in the past of the people you surrounded yourself with, but with a deep breath, you steeled yourself and made your way to the door.  

Baby Billy was in his penthouse suite thinking the same thing, already having to deal with his past marriages, now skirting around with other women, maybe he didn’t have the same bite that matched with his bark. He bit the inside of his cheek as he pondered over the idea. Maybe he should just let you enjoy your vacation without him mucking it up, making things more complicated for you both. But he’d be lying if he didn’t want to say damn it all and ignore the little voices, shut them out completely. But after several minutes of wrestling with those thoughts, he figured to hell with it, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and maybe it was just a fluke, maybe you’d leave after your vacation was up and he wouldn’t think twice about you.

He straightened himself up and ran his fingers through his hair, making sure he looked as presentable as possible for you. If he had limited time with you, then he’d make the most of it and he wouldn’t look back. 

Patting down his pockets to check over the contents, he walked out of his penthouse and closed the door behind him, greeted with the sight of you wrapped in a long kimono wrap worn over your swimsuit, your bag slung over your shoulder as you looked almost hesitant as you turned toward his door. 

His eyes met yours and that wide smile spread across his face. “Well, I’ll be DAMNED. Somebody pinch me ‘cause I think I just laid eyes on the finest thing to ever grace this resort,” he greeted, walking up to you with his arms spread a little wide, gesturing toward you. “You know, I’ve seen a lotta beauty in my lifetime—been to Vegas, even seen Dolly Parton up close—but LORD HAVE MERCY, you put ‘em all to shame.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and wave your hand dismissively as you felt your face heat up at his over-the-top charm, his way of slinging compliments at you was almost sickening, but in a very sweet way. “Thanks, Baby Billy,” you replied with a hint of shyness. “You’re not so bad looking yourself.”

“‘Course, and don’t inflate my ego too much, sweetheart” he said as he held out his arm for you to take, which you slipped through and walked alongside him. “You know, you mentioned you was goin’ to a wedding, right?”

You nodded and looked over at him. “Yeah, I did. Why?”

“Just been wrackin’ my brain as to why you don’t have a plus one is all,” he said with a curious tone. “Very surprisin’ to me, little number like you.”

This comment made you scoff, thinking that he was just laying it on thick because he was a natural flirt, yet it felt good to hear. “What, you think I can’t enjoy a vacation solo? Gotta take a plus one to enjoy it?” you asked with a light tone. 

Baby Billy shook his head and clicked his tongue, acting as if you’d just said the most ridiculous thing to him. “Oh, no, sugar. I think you can. I just think you shouldn’t have to.” He took a small step away from you and gestured to you like you were the defining evidence in his argument. “I mean, look at you– gorgeous, sharp as a damn tack, got a little fire in you… Ain’t no way in hell some poor fool out there didn’t lock you down already.”

“Maybe there’s a person out there for me, but I’m not really out there searching for that, you know? Maybe I’m just picky, you ever thought about that?” you suggested with a nonchalant shrug. 

He raised an eyebrow at your words, clearly interested in your story, so he continued to walk with you until he got to the elevator and pressed the button. “Oh, now see, that makes sense. You got standards, don’t ya? I bet you don’t suffer no fools, neither. Mhm. Lord help the poor man who tried to waste your time.”

“Including you?” You asked innocently, throwing a casual look over at him, attempting to hide your smile. 

With a gasp, Baby Billy placed a hand over his chest and stared at you in surprise. “Sugar, now that hurts me. You wound me deeply.” He then squinted his eyes behind the lenses and stared at you suspiciously, that hint of a smile still there on his face. “…Or are you just tryin’ to see if I can keep up?”

“Guess you’ll have to find out,” you teased playfully, nudging his arm with your own as you stepped on the elevator. “But I bet you’ve had a few run-ins with the tourists here, maybe caught a widowed woman, eyeing you up in your little bedazzled outfit, couldn’t keep her hands off you.” 

Baby Billy chuckled and shook his head, amused by your playful banter, though hearing you tease him relentlessly only made him want to change the subject. “Ah, well now, I have my eye on this little number I met here, actually. Can’t be lettin’ just any woman steal my time and attention, now can I?” 

You couldn’t hold back the laugh you let out at how bold this man was. “No, I suppose not,” you mused.

“Well, what about you, though? Findin’ any men worth your time here at this lovely resort?”

“Not just anyone passes the vibe check,” you teased. 

He chuckled at your comment, amused by your confidence. He then smirked, his gaze still roaming over your body. "I'm assuming I pass the vibe check, though, right?”

“Well, we still haven't had a full night together, the date isn't even close to being finished, but you're cute. So, we'll see.” You gave him a playful smile and stepped out of the elevator, turning around as you waited for him to follow. 

He took a moment to compose himself and walked along to catch up, his hand grabbing your wrist and pulling you back toward him in a playful manner. “You tryin’ to run off so soon?” He asked with a wide smirk. 

You whipped around to look up at him and smiled softly. “Nah, I just wanted you to catch me,” you teased. “Come on, let's get in that hot tub.” You walked ahead of him and placed your beach bag beside the hot tub, making sure you had your effects close by while you slid out of the swim wrap you had around your body, tossing it into your bag as the silence between you both became heavy, filled with tension.

You sank into the warmth of the bubbling water, letting it relax your muscles as Baby Billy slid in across from you, a slow smirk curling at his lips. His hair is untouched and combed back perfectly, his gold chain caught in the light, and his eyes? They’re locked on you like you’re the only thing worth looking at. He let out a sigh, leaning back against the wall of the tub as his eyes closed momentarily. “Good Lord, that feels like Heaven,” he groaned softly. “You always forget how good a hot tub feels until you get back in one,” he laughed and looked over at you. 

The resort was quiet, and the warm glow of tiki torches flickered against the bubbling water of the outdoor hot tub, most guests had gone to bed or made their way to their rooms. You figured it was because this resort consisted of a more elder base of guests, and you didn’t mind that in the slightest. You sat across from the older man and looked at him, seeing his shirtless form for the first time as he slipped out of the button-up he’d been wearing moments prior. Your face lit up at the sight, you didn’t think that outfit he wore earlier was hiding all that underneath the fabrics, yet here you were stunned into a moment of silence. 

He stretched out, arms on the rim, chest puffed up—he was peacocking HARD, but as soon as you leaned back a bit to relax, his eyes were on you. "Mmm. Now this is nice. Just me, you, and the warm water. Almost feels like we’re the only two people left in the whole damn world. Like fate or somethin’."

You raised an eyebrow and smirked wide as you looked across at him. "You always this dramatic, or is this a special occasion?"

Baby Billy looked mock-offended at your question, yet his smile remained. "Dramatic? Dramatic? Sugar, now that’s just hurtful. I prefer the term expressive." He tilted his head, studying you, amusement flickered in his gaze. "But you do gotta feel it, right—doesn’t it feel a little… I don’t know. Like it’s meant to be?"

You tilted your head, playing coy with the man across from you. "So let me get this straight, you think us winding up in this hot tub together is fate?"

Baby Billy grinned wider across at you, wondering just what was going through your mind. "Mmm, somethin’ like that,” he hummed nonchalantly, his eyes still lingering on you. But soon, the boldness began to creep in, and he straightened his posture. “Now why you sittin’ all the way over there? Get on over here, darlin’.” He looked over at you, those tinted glasses still on despite the sun being set for a while now, and you couldn’t help but entertain the idea. His arm draped around your shoulders immediately, a little lazy, a little possessive, but he knew what he had and he was flaunting it. 

What you both felt as you suddenly had his arm draped around you wasn’t something you’d expected here at a Christian resort, but the way he looked at you, the way his arm was much more muscular than you anticipated, it was overwhelming to have him so close to you. There were no words that could describe what you were feeling, but it was a wonderful thrill, the flips of your stomach sending you into a high.

He’d been staring at you a lot with that look—half smirk, half pure admiration. You managed to get him wrapped around your little finger. “Ain’t fair how good you look glistening in this water. Got me feelin’ lightheaded, sugar, and it ain’t from the heat.”

Your mind was being pulled in several different directions all at once, and you couldn’t hello but try and pry some more information out of him as you rested your head on his shoulder. "So, tell me, Billy—what exactly are you looking for?"

"Now, sugar, you ask that like I’m on some kinda spiritual quest. I ain’t searchin’ for the meanin’ of life, I’m just…" He sighed, rolling his shoulders, suddenly looking a little too thoughtful as his hand slowly and absentmindedly rubbed along your arm. "I don’t know. I guess I just wanna feel good again."

You looked over at him, your gaze filled with curiosity and gentleness. “And does that mean running from something? Like you were talking about earlier?”

Baby Billy looked over at you with his eyes widened slightly, but he recovered quickly and offered you a smile that felt more real than most. "Damn. You cut right through the nonsense, don’t ya? Alright, I’ll be honest—maybe I am runnin’. Maybe I got some regrets, some mistakes I’d rather not think about." He smirked again like he tried to shake it off. "But I sure as hell don’t regret endin’ up here with you.”

With a small, knowing hum, you nodded and looked up at him, taking in the closeness you both shared while you allowed the jets of the hot tub to relax you as you mulled over your thoughts. “You know, for all that smooth talk, you might actually be a little bit of a mess, Billy."

Baby Billy laughed at your observation, nodding as if he couldn’t even argue it. "Oh, darlin’, I been a mess since birth. The real question is—can you handle it?"

The air between you shifts—it’s still playful, but now there’s something else underneath it. You leaned back in his arms and smiled softly. "You act like that’s supposed to scare me."

The man grinned wide, his eyes flickered to your lips, then back up to your eyes. "Mmm. Maybe I was hopin’ it might excite you instead.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his banter, but it rolled so effortlessly between you both that you couldn't deny it even if you wanted to. “You're impossible.”

"And yet, here you are. Sittin’ with me, talkin’ to me, enjoyin’ my company. Ain’t that somethin’?”

You scoffed and replied with a playfully sarcastic tone. "Yeah, a real miracle."

Baby Billy grinned wider, sliding his hand gently down your arm as he pulled you closer. "Well, sugar, if we’re dealin’ in miracles… maybe you oughta make a wish. See what happens."

Your eyebrow raised as your voice was low and teasing. "And what exactly are you offering?”

"That, darlin’, depends entirely on what you want,” he mused as his hands began to wander, his touch gentle, but definitely not innocent. 

The strength of the jets caused the water to bubble around you both, and the steam rose into the night air, but it wasn’t just from the hot tub anymore– it was in the air between you and Baby Billy, thick with tension and something else, something unspoken. His eyes were on you as you both sat in the water, his hand still running up and down your arm as his cocky smirk was still in place, but there was a sudden sharpness in his eyes like he was waiting, watching, trying to figure you out. 

While you remained in his grasp, you couldn’t help but lean away slightly from him to get a better look at his face, trying to read his expression as your arm shifted somewhat, thinking about slipping it around him beneath the water’s surface. “So, let’s see if I get this straight– you do all this and perform at this resort to forget about the past,  but now you’re talking about sticking around with a woman you just met?” You tilted your head as you tried to read his eyes. “Billy, that almost sounds like you’re committing to something. You sure you can handle that?”

Baby Billy just laughed, one of those empty, hollow laughs that attempt to hide the truth. “Damn, sugar, you don’t miss a beat, do you?” He slid his hand from your arm and pulled it around your waist now, pulling you a little closer as he sat beside you. “Ain’t sayin’ I’m makin’ long-term plans just yet, but I know an interestin’ opportunity when I see one.”

“And that’s what I am? An opportunity?” you asked with a curious gaze. 

The man scoffed and shook his head. “Hardly, you’re more than that. Ain’t no denyin’ that. But what about you, sugar? You runnin’ from somethin’ too, or is this just the vacation you longed for before attendin’ your friends’ wedding?”

You sighed softly and shook your head, a soft smile on your lips as you thought of your words carefully. “Not running from something, just… needed a break. I needed to shake things up, get out, do something that wasn’t so… predictable.”

Baby Billy is so close that you could smell the chlorine mixing with his cologne, something warm and sharp like cedar and whiskey. His outstretched arm that was draped over the edge of the tub had twitched, and he was deciding whether or not to wrap it around you as he drummed his fingers along the edge. “I can make sure your life ain’t even close to predictable…” he offered softly. 

The feeling between you both was becoming a little too much, but you wanted to see where this could go, you were curious, but you wanted to see how far this would go. You tilted your chin up slightly as you stared up at him. “Do you always hover like this or are you waiting on me to make a move?”

He turned to look at you, staring at your lips for a long moment before he answered. “Oh, sugar, I never rush a good moment. I let things unfold… nice and slow.”

You looked at him and never thought that ‘nice and slow’ were in this man’s vocabulary, but you couldn’t stifle the smile that grew across your face. “And if I just got up and left right now?” You asked with a teasing tone.

Baby Billy just shrugged as he looked over at you, his eyes glued to you. “Guess I’d have to find a way to keep your attention.” There was a pause. The air was thick, filled with an electric current, you both edging each other, waiting for the other to make a move. 

You wanted to test those waters, pushing the limit to see what would happen, and you wanted to know if he’d give in to the chase. You suddenly stood up from the tub, the water cascading down your curves as you looked down at him. “Well, Baby Billy, this has been fun,” you said with a flashy smile as you stepped from the hot tub and reached for your towel. “Try not to miss me too much, yeah?”

Baby Billy just laughed, his expression amused and almost surprised, but he did his best to remain unaffected as he watched you stand up. “Damn, now that just ain’t fair,” he replied with his eyes glued to you. 

Your towel wrapped around you as you peeked at him over your shoulder, still smiling. “Life’s not fair, sweetheart,” you replied and walked away, your bag slung over your shoulder as you gave a wave. Your heart was pounding as you wondered if your little cat-and-mouse game would work.

You left the hot tub with a smirk on your face, towel wrapped tightly around you, your skin still warm from the water, and Baby Billy’s gaze still lingered on you as your form slowly disappeared from view. You didn’t rush, you let him watch, you let him wonder. He leaned back in the tub and groaned as he stared up at the sky, shaking his head with an amused laugh. 

“Damn, that woman is gonna be the death of me.” He let out a heavy sigh and grunted as he stood up, then reached for his towel as he dried himself off. “Ain’t lettin’ her go that easy,” he grumbled to himself. The water dripped onto the asphalt as he made quick work of drying himself off the best he could, but he had the towel wrapped around his shoulders as he began his trek through the resort. He took his time, allowing you the head start as he turned his head this way and that. He had the confident strut of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, but there was a little edge of urgency like he needed to find you to understand what happens next. 

He strolled through the resort, his confidence through the roof as he poked around the lounge area– he lingered, tapping his fingers against the counter as his eyes scanned the small crowd of people. He didn’t see you, yet his smile grew.

“Oh, sugar, really makin’ me work for it, ain’t you?” He thought as he shook his head, then made his way toward the elevator. 

A slow, deliberate knock came from your door as you stood in the bathroom, brushing out your hair from the shower you took, and your heart did flips as you set the brush down, your hand slightly trembling as you hoped it was him. As much as you wanted to believe you weren’t into games, you couldn’t help but test him to see if he really would follow through with his charm. You reached the door and placed your hand on the handle, pulling it open almost too slowly. 

His face greeted you with a slightly predatory gaze, but there was something underneath it all as you leaned against the doorframe, staring over at him with a soft grin. “You really tracked me down, huh?” You asked him as you crossed your arms against your chest.

Baby Billy grinned wide, his voice as smooth as honey. “Now, sugar, I told you– I love a challenge. But you just gonna leave me standin’ out here like a fool, or you gonna let me in?”

“Oh, want to come in? What is it you want, Billy?” You asked him, your eyes on his as you felt the thrill and excitement pumping through your veins. 

“Ain’t it obvious?” He asked as he leaned in further, his arm propped against the doorway. “I just came to see if you meant it– walkin’ off like that, leavin’ me high and dry.” He leaned in a little closer, his eyes catching yours from over the rim of his glasses. “Or if you were waitin’ on me to come and find you.”

Your heart rate picked up and it felt as if it would burst from your chest, but you tried your best to keep it cool as you offered a simple smile. “And what if I said I was only teasing you?”

Of course, you’d give him a run-around, he liked whatever game you two were playing, and he was curious about the outcome. “Then I’d have to say you’re doin’ a hell of a fine job of it,” he replied with a short laugh. “But I’d also say… you wouldn’t have let me get this far if you didn’t wanna see what happens next…”

There was a challenge in his voice, the air thick with the tension that you could cut it, and silence hung in the air. As the tension built, you couldn’t help but smirk as you opened the door wider and then stepped aside to let him in. 

“Guess we’re about to find out.”

Baby Billy grinned wider and stepped past you, his voice low and teasing. “Mhm, now that’s what I like to hear.”

The click of the door shutting was louder than it should be in the quiet of your suite, but the lock clicking was even more jarring as you turned toward him. Baby Billy stepped inside, slow and deliberate as he looked around for a split second, but then, his eyes were locked on you once he turned. 

That smile never left his face, but there was something else underneath it all, something less playful and more… uncertain. For once, Baby Billy Freeman didn’t know what would happen next, and you weren’t sure either. The air is still as you both look at one another, all his talk about this big game now being put to the test as the air is thick with the weight of everything unspoken. 

Baby Billy sighed as he ran a hand through his white hair, his eyes flickered away from you for a brief moment. “Alright, I’ll bite. Let’s be honest for a second, sugar. I came here thinkin’ maybe you’d slam the door in my face. Or maybe you’d think of lettin’ me in just to mess with me a little more, stringin’ me along.” His eyes met yours now, his voice softer, quiet, unsure. “But now that I’m here?” He paused and let out a small huff. “I gotta ask– what exactly do you want?”

You blinked and stared at him, not exactly expecting him to ask that outright. “What do you mean?” You questioned. 

He chuckled and shook his head, his eyes not leaving yours. “C’mon now, don’t play dumb. You pulled me in, kept me on my toes all night, and now we’re here. So tell me… was it all just for your entertainment? Or is there somethin’ more behind that look in your eyes?”

The tension didn’t break, it just shifted, turning into something slower, heavier. Baby Billy didn’t push forward, he didn’t move closer. He just waits there. His usual cocky charm is still there, but his eyes tell a different story, and they’re watching you. You took a step forward, just close enough to test the heat between you, and Baby Billy is just watching with that lazy, knowing grin. This isn’t about the chase anymore, not about the games or making him work for it, it’s just the moment. You let the air hang between you both for a moment, just to really feel if you were fully committed to this, and then you close the last bit of space between you.

You placed a hand on his chest– his skin still warm from the hot tub and possibly the nerves, his heartbeat steady beneath your fingertips. His breath caught just slightly as you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. Baby Billy moved his hand to settle on your waist, the other hand lifted to brush his thumb along your jaw– slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring it. And when he finally leaned in, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing, just warmth, just want, and just the undeniable truth that this was going to happen.

His lips met yours, slow and unhurried, like he was taking his time to figure you out, but there was something deeper beneath it, a hint of desperation like he’d been waiting for this a little longer than he realized. You allow yourself to sink into the warmth of his touch, the way his fingers tightened slightly against your waist, how he made a low, satisfied noise against your lips– he’d just won the jackpot. 

He pulled away first, wanting to gauge your reaction, curious if you’d push him away, or kick him out, but before you could even deny his advances, you didn’t give him the chance to consider a rejection. Your mouth pressed against his harder this time, less patient and more confident. His hands found their way slightly higher on your waist, pulling you flush against him as you could feel the heat radiating off of him, the way his muscles tensed like he was trying to hold himself back just enough to make this last. He let out a low, satisfied hum against your lips as you fisted your hands around the fabric of his damp shirt, pulling him closer if that were possible. 

He smiled as he pulled his lips against your jaw, his voice low and smug as hell. “Knew you were trouble the moment I saw you,” he hummed. 

You laughed breathlessly as you tilted your head back and his lips brushed against your neck. “And yet here you are,” you said with a satisfied tone. 

“Damn right,” he replied as the back of your knees suddenly hit the bed. 

You don’t remember exactly when the flirting stopped when it shifted into something hungrier, something undeniable. He groaned when you pulled him down with you as you fell back against the bed, the heat of his skin against yours, and his hands mapped you out like he was memorizing you. His lips were warm against the skin of your neck, trailing a path that made you arch beneath him. The way he grinned while you reacted to his touch– cocky but genuine like he’s still marveling at the fact that you’re here at all.

His hands are skilled and practiced, but there’s also a roughness, a need, that makes it clear that he’s attempting to hold back as he tests the boundaries. You smiled up at him as he pulled away slightly.

“What’s the matter, Billy? Having second thoughts?” you teased as you looked at him with a gentle gaze. 

Baby Billy took this as a playful gesture but couldn’t help finding it almost endearing. “Oh, sugar, I’m just makin’ sure you can handle me.” He slid his hand along your thigh, his fingers skated upward as his touch felt firm but teasing. “Wouldn’t want you bitin’ off more than you can chew.”

This made you laugh as your hands undid the buttons of his damp shirt, the way your touch against his chest ignited something within him while each gentle touch made it feel electric. His shirt is discarded, your top is gone, and here you both are, struggling to move faster as the barriers between you both disappear. His body pressed against yours from above, feeling the firmness of his erection pressing against your inner thigh as your hand slid up to his cheek, pulling him into a heated kiss.

Your hand slid down to his chest as you felt just how defined he was, your fingertips skated across his skin while he let out a soft moan from the feeling. All the attention you were giving him was only causing him to want you more, yet he was hesitant to finally take that leap. But his hands grabbed you, pulling you over as he switched the dynamic to have you hover above him. 

“C’mere darlin’, I need you in my lap,” he said, his Southern drawl low and desperate.

You couldn’t hide the smile you wore as you did as he asked and crawled over him, swinging your leg over him to settle against his thighs. His hands slid around you, gripping each side of your thighs as he scooted you further against him, wanting to pull you closer as he kissed you hungrily. His mouth trailed from your lips down to your jaw, Then he placed soft, reverent kisses along your neck as your sounds filled his ears. He needed to hear those sweet sounds, the ones that he caused. His breath caught in his throat as he felt your hips suddenly grind against him, pressing your aching cunt against him, already stimulating yourself against his hardening cock. 

Baby Billy’s hand gripped one side of your hip firmly as the other gripped your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, leaning forward to lavish your skin with his mouth. He worked his way further down your chest, and Baby Billy released a small groan as his mouth covered your peak, his tongue now swirling around your nipple before he moved to the other breast. While his mouth was on you, his hands slid down to grip your ass firmly, then pressed you down harder against his growing erection. 

“C’mon sugar, you gonna ride this old man’s dick?” he asked playfully, positioning you over him. He was throbbing, God, he hadn’t needed something more than he needed you in this moment. 

You smiled down at him as you dropped your hips against him, sinking onto him as the stretch caused you to lean your head back and your eyes roll. “Oh, damn,” you moaned softly, hands placed against his chest as you propped yourself up. 

Baby Billy groaned at the feeling of how wet you were, slicking his cock as you sank down onto him and ground against his hips. He tried his best to maintain some composure, but he was a very vocal man, and he groaned loudly whenever you made any sort of movement against him. His hands gripped your ass as he moved you up and down against him, fucking you at his pace while his hips bucked up into you. 

“Oh, angel, you feel like Heaven,” he groaned, leaning his face forward to kiss and nip at the skin of your collarbone. 

You felt the same, not believing that you were going to these lengths with a man you just met today, but you had nothing alarming in your head about this, you only focused on how good he made you feel despite how much older than you he was. And boy, he still knew how to fuck.

He groaned softly into your mouth, your slow rolls of your hips made his eyes roll back. He cupped the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss while he spread his legs wider, allowing you to grind against him slowly. Baby Billy felt himself getting closer to losing himself, his hips bucked upward to try and get you to move faster. 

You continued to go slow, giving him a show as you teased him while your mouth pulled away, making your way to his jaw and down his neck, breathing hot against his skin. 

He groaned loudly again, his head tilted to the side to give you better access to his neck. He felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Fuck, I'm gonna come," he admitted, his voice strained. “Can't hold on when you're teasin’ me like this.”

Upon his confession, you picked up the pace and rode him a little faster, his thrusts too slow and erratic to keep up as his breathing quickened. “Baby,” you moaned loudly, your arms wrapped around his neck. “Feel so good…”

He let out a deep, guttural moan at your sudden change in pace, his fingers digging into your hips. "Holy shit... fuck..." His eyes closed briefly as you rode him harder and faster, hitting that perfect spot inside you each time while he attempted to catch his breath. "Just like that... Jesus Christ… God gave you a gift, girl.”

His body tensed beneath yours while you moaned his name over and over again, the warmth of his skin against yours while his hands grabbed at you, pawed at you. He was so overcome with desire that he felt as if he were losing himself, the lines blurring between everything he believed in and what he felt was right. His large hands grabbed you, placed on either side of your hips, helping you keep that pace as his orgasm built swiftly despite wanting to make this last. 

“You close, ain’t you? Can feel it,” he groaned as your hands slid through his hair, smiling as he pulled you down, capturing his lips with yours. He pulled away but barely, mumbling against your mouth. “You gonna come with me, angel?” He asked softly, his voice breaking slightly. 

You nodded and kissed him again, sloppy and rushed as you could feel that familiar tightness coiling inside of you, the tingle at the base of your spine growing undeniable while you attempted to keep the tempo going. “Ba-Baby,” you groaned, “not gonna last like this,” you warned him. 

His breathing became heavier, more ragged as he watched your face contort with pleasure as he felt such pride that it was him bringing it to you. His smile widened at your words, but he had to ensure you felt satisfied. His hand slipped between you both, his fingers deftly circling your clit, bringing that extra stimulation that made your eyes roll back and your skin fill with goosebumps. 

The way your moans and soft sighs tumbled from your mouth was almost like an angel’s choir singing to him, he was weak for you, you were his salvation, much like the others were to him in the past, yet there was a hint of difference compared to you. Baby Billy let out a low groan as he thrust himself deep and hard several times into you while your muscles tightened around him, pulling him in as he finally came, his body shuddered with his release as his strong arms tightened around you. 

“Fuck, oh fuck–” He moaned, clenching his teeth as he kept going, wanting to feel you come with him.

With several more quick thrusts of your own, you felt yourself let go, shuddering much like he did as your movements slowed, your chest heaving as your heart pounded hard against your chest. Your bodies were covered with a light sheen of sweat, but you didn’t care, you melted against him as his arms wrapped tighter around you, holding onto you as he buried his face against your hair. 

“Sugar, you alright?” he asked softly, his voice muffled against your hair as his hand stroked your tresses. 

You could barely lift your gaze to meet his, the exhaustion in your eyes imminent while you relaxed against him. “Never better,” you replied with a small smile. “You?”

“Never better,” he repeated, his own smile widened into that usual Baby Billy fashion, but there was a certain softness to it. 

You catch a glimpse of him—the real Baby Billy behind the showman’s grin—eyes bright and wild, a hint of neediness in his touch when you pull him close.

When the world finally settled, hours later, with you tangled in sheets and the cool air settling over your skin—it’s quiet. The aftermath is all slow breaths and peaceful contentment. He stayed close, arm slung possessively around you, fingers idly tracing shapes on your skin. For a moment, you’re both quiet—letting the silence stretch.

And the two of you drift off, tangled together in the dim light of the resort suite, with the sound of the gentle waves from the ocean and the muffled sounds of distant talking just outside. Whatever comes next, it’s a problem for the morning. For now, you let yourself sink into the warmth of his touch and the thrill of the chase finally caught.

The first thing you noticed is the soft glow of morning light that crept through the resort curtains—warm, golden, and far too early. The distant sound of waves rolling against the shore and the faint hum of resort life waking up filtered in. The second thing you noticed was the weight draped over your waist—heavy, warm, and distinctly Baby Billy Freeman. Your eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light. The room smelled faintly of saltwater, cologne, and something musky and familiar. The sheets are tangled, evidence of a very eventful night.

And there he is—Baby Billy, lying beside you.

He’s on his stomach, head turned toward you, one arm slung over your waist in a way that felt more protective than possessive. His hair is a mess of silver and sweat-tousled strands, and his breathing is slow and even, lips slightly parted. He looks softer in sleep—less showman, more man. For a moment, you just watched him. Then, as if he knew your eyes were on him, he stirred.

Baby Billy’s voice was gravelly from sleep, and it sounded almost normal, not filled with that typical cockiness. "Mm, sugar… you always up this damn early?" he mumbled. One eye cracked open, hazel and bleary, but sharpened when he saw you watching him. "Well, good mornin’. I see I’m graced with the face of an angel first thing."

You just smirked as you looked over at him, your hair splayed around you as you watched him from the comfort of your pillow. "Didn’t peg you for a cuddler, Freeman."

 He just grinned lazily, unashamed of the current situation. How could he feel shame with a woman like you naked next to him? "What can I say? You’re good company. And you feel really nice next to me." He stretched, his arm tightening around you, a smug, sleepy satisfaction lingered in his expression. “I know you weren’t complainin’ last night.” He remained comfortable against the pillows as he moved slightly, then folded an arm behind his head as he watched you with that familiar cocky grin—but there was a softness there now, something genuine.

You raised a brow and wore a snarky grin. "You always this full of yourself in the morning?"

Baby Billy chuckled and gave a half-hearted shrug. "Darlin’, it ain’t braggin’ if it’s true." He paused, his eyes flicking over you, lazy but appreciative as he took in your facial features illuminated in the light of the sun. "Though I gotta say, you look damn good in the daylight, too."

The banter is easy and natural, the same push and pull, but with the edge no longer there. But then, as the quiet settled back in, his eyes shifted. Something flickered behind them as he watched you. He ran a hand over his face, scratching his jaw, and you can almost see the wheels turning. There’s a hint of uncertainty like he’s trying to figure out how to ask something. "So, uh… you got plans today, sugar? Or was last night a one-time thing?" He asked casually, maybe a little too casually. 

You met his gaze, weighing your words carefully, but you decided to tease him further to see how he’d react. "You fishing for compliments, Baby Billy?"

Baby Billy just laughed, but you noticed it sounded more strained than usual. "Just wonderin’ if I should expect a door slammed in my face if I show up at your suite again tonight."

You just smirked, giving a little shrug as you let the tension linger. "Guess you’ll have to see if you can charm me twice."

He grinned wide, but he’s more relaxed now., you can see relief flash across his face before he hid it with another cocky smile, there’s an unspoken agreement that the night before wasn’t just a fling, that you’d gladly open the door and allow him to come back. Whatever it was, you weren’t exactly sure, but whatever it was, you knew it wouldn’t be boring.

[rrezshifts]

𝓶𝙮 𝙝𝖔����b𝙞𝙚s — ᴍᴀʀᴠᴇʟ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ

𝓓ay 19. mittens -> What are your hobbies in your dr? How do you usually spend your down time?

despite how this reality sounds… i’m not a hero or a vigilante or even a villain. unfortunately i’m making this post before an introduction so that can be a common misconception. this dr is specifically focused on matt murdock and maya lopez too (literally no one else so far lmao). ALSO this is more based on the marvel comics rather than the mcu !!

anyway… since i’m not fighting or saving people, i have a lot more free time on my hands. i do usually like to use it to hang out with my friends as well as maya and matt. but when they’re busy here’s some of what i do:

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ ᴅᴇꜱɪɢɴ & ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ ᴇᴅɪᴛɪɴɢ

while this “hobby” is technically just my job, as i am a freelance graphic designer and short form video editor, i still enjoy using this art form to make things related to my interests or anything not business related.

i can definitely get tired of it though. there’s days where i have so much work to do or the one project i’m working on got a little tough. i’m just too drained to spend too much of my time on this hobby for the next few days. but i love watching the projects come together in any context and so when i have no work for a while sometimes it’s nice to still create something that other people can enjoy as well !!

ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ ꜱʜᴏᴘᴘɪɴɢ

my career track isn’t necessarily luxury just yet. and living in a decent sized apartment in new york means i don’t get too much money to spend on non-essentials. that and me going somewhere with a credit or debit card is dangerous !!

so instead i go to a mall or shopping center or any small shop with a friend or two. and we’ll walk around talking about everything we see, shopping with our eyes. talking about “well if i save up” and all that. we don’t buy anything other than like a snack or cheap meal and then the occasional splurge.

if any of us gets an extra large payday though, we take that as a “we have to go to the mall and shop with them”. we enjoy seeing each other be able to get things that makes them happy. so it’s a fun experience !!

ꜱɪɴɢɪɴɢ & ᴅᴀɴᴄɪɴɢ

despite the photos i used i am not professionally singing and dancing. in reality i just sing and dance in my apartment randomly throughout the day. i’m not even professionally trained. and most of the time i hate how i sound and don’t look at myself in the mirror when i dance so the likelihood any of it is good is so slim lmaoo 😹

maya is actually a dancer, she used to be a big performer, and still does occasionally dance. she’s a phenomenal ballet dancer. when she watches me dance she’s very entertained, she’d call it cute and i’d get embarrassed and then not dance in front of her for weeks

matt hears me sing often. the first time he did though he wasn’t meant to. he was in another room as i was singing under my breath. he didn’t tell me about his thoughts when he first heard it until after we started dating. i rarely sing in front of anyone, so the only time he ever does is when he catches it from afar.

ꜱᴡɪᴍᴍɪɴɢ

i love love looove water! being in it is very calming so going to pools or the beach often is a must for me. i’ll just go to those places and swim for a while. not necessarily fast, like in training for the olympics. but more just swimming around at my pace and pretending i’m a merman 🧜‍♂️

i cap swimming off at most 2-3 times a week bc showering with chlorine/grime/salt coated hair is some of the worst things ever and i will not deal it with more than i have to. but i refuse to swim less than three times a month.

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

© rrezshifts last updated. 12/19/2024

[aller-geez]

hey I don’t know if you are still taking Fic requests and if you aren’t totally get it but if you are may I request a sick and super sneezy Kriia fic? I don’t have a lot of specifics tbh she’s just one of my favorites and I wanted to request a fic of her 😅. Again if you aren’t taking any more I totally get it.

Hey there Nonny!

Wow I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to go through these fic requests! I’ve been working on my book so much it’s hard to find time to get to them all 🥲

Sorry that this got way too fluffy at the end, I can’t help it, they’re just my favorite right now 🥲

How to Have A Bad Day

Written & illustrated by: allergeez✨

Summary: In a snowbound city where glamour and grit coexist, Kriia, a determined but deeply under-the-weather performer, pushes through a punishing winter day to get what she’s earned. What begins as a simple trip to pick up her paycheck spirals into a fever-drenched journey of sheer willpower, resilience, and quiet vulnerability. Navigating freezing streets, social isolation, and her own deteriorating health, Kriia’s struggle is both poignant and painfully real. Amidst a swirl of sleet, neon lights, and relentless sneezes, her trek becomes a raw testament to the aching beauty of being cared for—just when you need it most. 3.9k words

Kriia wasn’t fit to be anywhere but in bed. Her head throbbed like a subwoofer at a rave, her nose was a faucet with a vendetta, and every inhale triggered a breathless tickle that built behind her sinuses like storm clouds ready to split wide open. Still, it was payday—and even if she was falling apart, her rent sure wasn’t. So she’d dragged herself out of her nest of blankets, throat raw, face flushed, and hoodie sleeves crusted with a thin layer of snot from her wiping her nose all night after its marathon on running, to stumble through the club doors like some kind of congested ghost.

The scent of perfume, sweat, and dollar bills hit her like a slap. The lights were low and hazy, throwing shimmery shadows over the main floor where the dancers were mid-set—goddesses in glitter and stilettos, lithe and electric as they arched and twisted around the pole. The bass thumped underfoot, rattling in her sinuses in the worst way.

“hh…H’Kxtchh!—h’Tschkkt! ngsh! H’NgXt! Hh‘gsch!”

Kriia stifled violently into the crook of her arm, jerking with each suppressed sneeze, the force leaving her blinking and dizzy. Her deep purple eyes streamed. Her nose was a miserable shade of red, and she sniffled harshly, her breath catching on another insistent tickle.

“hh’KNNxxgt—! Hh’Tsshhgnk!…k’gnsh! N’gxt! ….. Ughhh.”

The girls who usually danced alongside her glanced over with well-practiced disinterest—that is, until the sneezes started coming in thick, helpless fits. Then came the sidelong looks, the subtle recoils, the exaggerated scoots away. One girl pulled a silk robe tighter around her shoulders, muttering something under her breath about “airborne death.” Kriia didn’t blame them. She sounded contagious as hell.

Tissues crinkled in her hoodie pocket as she fished one out mid-step, pressing it to her nose for a desperate blow. Her breath hitched again—

“Nnch! Nkch! Ktch! Nkcht! Hh‘gsch!!!—”

She swayed in place, lightheaded, her voice a ragged whisper when she finally spoke: “Fff—fuck, okay. Jus’ get the check. Id add out. Easy…”

Easier said than done.

Chandra, her boss and the human embodiment of tight-laced grace under fire, was posted in the furthest booth, clipboard in hand and her gorgeously messy ringlet curls pinned perfectly behind her ears. She didn’t notice Kriia at first—not until the path cleared around her like a ripple effect, a single sickly elf girl trudging forward through a growing radius of avoidance. When Kriia locked eyes with her across the club, Chandra’s expression flickered. Panic. Thinly veiled horror. Then she composed herself like the seasoned pro she was.

Kriia barely made it a few feet from her before the tickle in her nose surged again with cruel, burning persistence.

“hh’tSCHtuhh!—hh’NGXshh!!—Hh-N’gxt! Heh’n’gtx! Huhhh.. n’gtx!!”

They tumbled from her in desperate, breathless bursts, head snapping forward each time, muffled only slightly by the now-damp tissue in her hand. Nearby patrons glanced over, recoiling in sync. One man full-on got up and moved tables.

“Don’t bi’d be,” she rasped, voice hoarse and breathy, waving vaguely as her next sneeze built in her throat. “Just fugki’g dyigg over here. Just—h’gTShhHh! hiIh’nG-kT—-!!”

When she finally reached Chandra, sniffling miserably, the woman pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed with enough weight to shift tectonic plates.

“Kriia,” she said, her voice flat, “I thought you called out sick.”

“I did,” Kriia croaked, nose twitching helplessly again. “But it’s payday, and I’b dot that sick—Nkcht! Hh‘gsch!! Nngch! H’tshhkt!! ngsh! H’NgXt! ”

“Jesus, you sound like a dying cat in a blender,” Chandra muttered, grimacing and holding the clipboard between them like a shield. “Give me five seconds to print your check. Do not sneeze on anything. Or anyone.”

“No prohh’GXNXshht!”—Kriia turned halfway, doubled over again into her sleeve. “…do probleb.”

At least, she thought as she blew her nose as discreetly as she could, she was already banned from touching the pole for a week. Small mercies.

By the time Kriia had her check folded and tucked into her hoodie pocket (between a packet of tissues and a crushed cough drop), her nose had given up entirely on the idea of functioning. It ran constantly, a drip that wouldn’t stop, even as she sniffled hard enough to make her sinuses scream in protest.

Outside, the world had turned into a white, whispering blur.

“Rex, baby, pleaaaaaase,” she whined into her phone, her voice nearly unrecognizable. “I wouldd’t ask udless I really deeded it. I feel like shiiit.”

On the other end of the line, Rexar’s voice was warm but firm. “Babe, if I could get away from this family thing, I would be there. I swear. But they’ve got the doors locked, and I think Theren’s been crying for twenty minutes straight.”

Kriia let out a congested groan, fog misting from her lips in the frigid air. “Whad about Rebi?”

Rex sighed. “His truck broke down again yesterday, I’m sorry babygirl. I’ll be back soon though, okay?”

She hung up, pocketed her phone with a heavy sniffle, and braced herself against the wind. The city street was a slushy mess, snow coming down sideways, stinging against her flushed cheeks. The walk home wasn’t long—maybe twenty minutes—but in her condition, it felt like a cursed pilgrimage.

Kriia buried her hands in the sleeves of her hoodie, shoulders hunched. Every breath she took felt like inhaling ice needles, and her nose tickled constantly from the cold. Her body gave a betrayed warning shiver.

“hh’Hnngxtchh!—h’kTSHHt! Hehh… hhh’Gkchhnntt!”

She tried to muffle them into her scarf, but the wet fabric clung to her mouth and only made her feel more suffocated. Her eyes streamed as she stumbled down the sidewalk, boots splashing through slush puddles, lashes frosted over and trembling from another oncoming fit.

“Hhhuhhh’TSCHHHhuh! Hh—hh-Nnch! Nkch! Ktch!—fuhhh—Nkcht! Hh‘gsch!!!—!”

Her legs shook with the effort, the world tilting just slightly beneath her. A kind older woman passing by gave her a wide berth, wrinkling her nose and walking faster. Kriia didn’t blame her. She sounded like the harbinger of a new strain of plague.

Halfway home, she ducked under the overhang of a closed florist shop, coughing raggedly into her elbow, eyes fluttering shut. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed sandpaper, her sinuses packed so tight it was a miracle she could still breathe through her mouth.

She reached into her pocket, fumbling for tissues—already damp, half-shredded—and pressed one to her nose just in time for another rapid-fire fit:

“hh’NKTschhh! hihh-N’gxt! Heh’n’gtx! Huhhh.. n’gtx!!”

When the world stopped spinning, she stayed huddled there for a moment, steam rising off her in the icy dusk, trying to summon the willpower to keep going.

But she did.

Because the sooner she got home, the sooner she could curl into a nest of blankets and hopefully pass out with Rex’s hoodie over her head and a hot water bottle to her chest.

She just had to survive ten more minutes.

And about thirty more sneezes.

The town of Vekin Hook glittered under a thick, ghostly veil of snow. Streetlights shimmered like frozen stars, casting hazy halos in the flurrying white. But none of that was beautiful to Kriia.

She could barely see it through the mess her body had become.

The wind howled mercilessly, tugging at her hood and sneaking through every gap in her clothes like it knew she was weak. Her crimson hair was soaked, sticking to her cheeks in icy strands. Her eyes—usually sharp and glowing with purpose—were glassy now, brimming with tears that refused to fall, blurred further by the unstoppable tickle deep in her sinuses.

“Nkcht! Hh‘gsch!! Nnnhg…. Hh—! Nngch! Hh-H’tshhkt!! ngsh! H’NgXt”

Her head snapped forward with every sneeze, making her stumble in the snowdrifts that lapped at her thighs. She hardly had time to recover between them. They came in desperate clusters, tearing through her like her own body was rebelling.

She gasped as another shiver rattled her bones. Her nose—red, sore, and leaking despite the pathetic wad of tissue she clung to—dripped relentlessly, leaving a damp trail down her philtrum and chin. Some of it had started to freeze along the edge of her scarf, stiffening in the bitter air. Her breath came in hiccuping, fogged bursts.

“h hh…H’Kxtchh!—h’Tschkkt! ngsh! H’NgXt! Hh‘gsch!”

She nearly tripped over her own boots as she staggered onto the last stretch of the walk. Rexar’s estate finally rose into view at the end of the street like a lighthouse through a snowstorm—massive, elegant, black stone walls crusted with snow and glowing faintly with firelight through the stained glass windows.

“F-Finally,” Kriia wheezed, voice sanded down to dust. “I’m… hhihh— h’gTShhHh! hiIh’nG-kT—-!!!—h-home.”

She half-sobbed as she made it to the door, snow crusting her knees and ankles, nose running like a faucet, body aching like she’d been thrown into a frozen river and left there to drown.

With shaking, blue-tinged fingers, she dug into her hoodie pocket. Crumpled tissues. Payday check. Another used tissue. No keys.

Her breath caught.

She patted her other pockets. Back ones. Coat lining.

Nothing.

A sick, quiet horror crept in.

“No. No, no, no, no—” she rasped, pressing her forehead to the door. “I had th’b-hh’CHhhkkt!—th’buhh—hhGNTchhh!—thehm this borning—hhhhuhhh…”

She turned slowly, like in a dream, and slumped down against the frozen front steps, arms wrapped around her knees.

Locked out.

It was almost funny.

Almost.

The tears came then, hot against frozen cheeks, streaking down a face already flushed with fever. Her nose dripped freely, breath coming in congested gasps. She didn’t even try to cover the next fit—there was no one around to see her anyway.

“Heh’n’gtx! Huhhh.. n’gtx! Hh‘gsch! Hh-hehh-k’gnsh! Ngt’chh! Hhptt’CH!!”

Her body curled forward each time, shoulders trembling, breath hitching with miserable inevitability.

And then… silence.

Just the soft whisper of snow falling around her, building up on her back, clinging to her lashes.

She didn’t have the strength to cry anymore.

But gods, she hoped someone would come home soon.

The cold had teeth.

Kriia sat hunched on the steps of the estate, snow blanketing her like she was just another piece of the scenery. Her hoodie was soaked through, sleeves stiff with half-frozen snot and tears. The small stack of tissues she'd once clung to had long since disintegrated in her hands, and she had nothing left to fight with but the crook of her elbow—and even that was damp, useless.

Her breath hitched again. She could feel it coming, like static crawling along her spine.

“hh-HHT’CHHh’uhhh! H’GSHHHt! hh’KTSHHhh-uhhh!”

She pitched forward with each one, crimson hair bouncing as the sneezes dragged her with them. They were relentless now—coming in waves that blurred together, leaving her dizzy and blinking at the swirling snow with glassy, purple eyes.

“hh’NKTschhh! hihh-N’gxt! Heh’n’gtx! Huhhh.. n’gtx!!”

Each one tore through her chest, wet and painful and loud. Her nose dripped with reckless abandon, a thin line running down her upper lip that she couldn’t stop, couldn’t hide, couldn’t do anything about except sob a little under her breath.

She sniffled thickly, but it did nothing—her sinuses were a wreck, raw and swollen and stuffed to the brim. The congestion had crept down into her chest, too, making every breath a struggle.

She wiped her face on her sleeve again with a whimper, blinking hard against the freezing burn in her eyes. “F-Fuggk,” she muttered weakly, voice shredded. “This is so... so stuhhh—hh’ihhH’TCHHHuhh!—stupid...”

She didn’t even hear the hummer pulling up over the wind.

But Rexar did.

And when his headlights lit up the front porch and caught a glimpse of the crumpled shape on the steps, his heart stuttered in his chest.

“Kriia?!”

The car was still running when he leapt out, slamming the door behind him, boots crunching across the snow. His entire frame was tense, ember-ringed eyes wide and horrified as he reached her.

“Babygirl—what the hell—” He dropped to his knees beside her, cupping her flushed, icy cheeks in his huge hands. “Why are you out here? Why didn’t you call me? You’re—shit, you’re burning up.”

Kriia tried to answer, but it dissolved instantly into another fit.

“Hh‘gsch!! Nnnhg…. Hh—! Nngch! Hh-H’tshhkt!! ngsh! H’NgXt”

Her whole body rocked, barely holding together, nose running freely now as she slumped forward again. “H-hihhh—hh’hhKNSHHt! I-I left by keys—hhuhhh—hh’TSSHHuhh!—didn’t wanna b-bother you if you were already cobi’g…” she croaked, shoulders trembling.

“Oh, princess...” Rexar’s voice cracked. “No. No, no—none of that. You can always bother me. Look at you, you're freezing.”

She didn’t protest when he slid off his coat and wrapped it around her, pulling her gently to her feet. Her legs buckled, but he caught her easily, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.

“Sshhh, I got you. I’m here now,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her damp forehead. “Let’s get you inside. We’re warming you up, and I’m not letting you lift a damn finger.”

Kriia didn’t argue. Didn’t pretend to be strong. She just sniffled thickly, curling into his chest, letting his warmth soak into her frozen bones.

“hh-hhh...hhT’chhhuhh! Hh’kxtnsschh!”

Rexar tucked her tighter against him, heart twisting. “That’s it, baby. Let it out. I’m here now.”

And this time, she really was home.

The warmth hit her in a rush the second Rexar shouldered open the front door—dry heat from the estate’s furnace flooding over her frozen skin, his coat still wrapped snug around her. He didn’t even pause at the threshold. Just carried her straight to the couch like she weighed nothing, whispering calming things into her tangled, overheated hair.

“Almost there, babygirl. Gonna get you all settled, okay?.”

Kriia let her head loll against his shoulder, eyelids fluttering with exhaustion. The harsh, freezing burn in her nose didn’t let up—not even indoors—and as he laid her gently onto the cushions, she barely had a second before she was pitching forward again.

“Hh’hhGkxtschhh!—HH’TCHsshhhuhh!—Hhuhh-KNSSHhhhk-uhhh!”

Rexar was already crouched beside her, cradling the back of her head, murmuring, “Bless you, princess. Easy now, I’ve got you.”

He reached for the box of tissues he’d brought over from the hall table, pulling a few free and holding one gently to her face. “Come on, blow. You’re all stuffed up.”

Kriia sniffled thickly, trying to shake her head in protest, but he didn’t give her the chance to retreat back into pride. Not tonight.

“Babygirl,” he said softly, brushing her cheek with his knuckles. “Let me help you.”

And just like that—just hearing that voice, that gentleness, that name—she caved. She closed her eyes and blew hard into the tissue he held for her, cheeks going red as the sound came out embarrassingly wet and congested.

Rexar didn’t flinch. Just wiped gently beneath her nose, kissing the crown of her head.

“There we go. Good girl.”

She whimpered something incoherent, sniffling still, nose twitching as another sneeze tried to crawl up her ruined sinuses. Her breath hitched, stuttered—and then stopped short, stuck painfully between buildup and release.

“Hhhuhh—hhh’Hhhuhhh… ughhh—R-Rexxx…”

“I got you,” he murmured, his voice low and steady as he shifted closer.

With a tenderness that sent shivers through her overworked frame, Rexar raised one hand and let the very tip of his nail trail delicately down the bridge of her nose. The contact was whisper-light, just enough to tease the building itch that had her breath catching. He traced the path with precision—slow and deliberate—until he reached the tip, then circled gently, coaxing the stubborn sneeze forward.

“Right here,” he whispered, using the edge of his nail to stroke carefully along the sensitive curve of her septum, back and forth in the faintest motion. “Let it go, princess.”

The sensation was maddening in the best way—soft and maddeningly exact, like a promise she couldn’t resist. Her breath hitched wildly, chest trembling against his side as her eyelids fluttered and her nose twitched helplessly.

Her breath hitched again, then again—until he leaned in close and whispered, just barely, “Bless you.”

It was enough.

“Hh’HHSCHHHuhh! Hh’GZCHHHhhk! Hhuhhh-KGT’SHHhh’uhh!”

The fit exploded from her, and she collapsed back into his chest, utterly destroyed. “I… I cad’t stob sdeezi’g…”

“I know, I know,” he whispered, wrapping her in the thickest blanket he could find. “You don’t have to. Just breathe. Just rest. I’m gonna take care of everything.”

Normally, she’d swat his hands away. Make some sarcastic quip. Puff herself back up and insist she was fine.

But not tonight.

Tonight she melted into him, curling her legs onto his lap, shivering and feverish and aching, and let herself be small in his arms. His hand was steady on her back, slow circles grounding her. His other hand held her own, thumb stroking the back of her knuckles.

She closed her eyes, breath ragged.

And for the first time all day, she felt safe enough to let go.

The bathroom was already warm by the time Rexar carried her in, steam curling like soft fingers around the wide marble tub. The overhead lights were dimmed to a golden glow, and the water—just shy of too hot—was laced with eucalyptus salts that kissed the air with a clean, bracing scent.

Kriia clung weakly to his shoulders, her nose a flushed mess of red and glistening misery against his collarbone. She was limp in his arms, too sick to protest, too exhausted to care about pride.

He knelt beside the tub, careful and patient, setting her down on the plush bath mat to undress her layer by layer. Her hoodie clung to her sweat-slick skin, and her hands trembled as she helped peel it off, only to fall into another breathless, hitching pre-sneeze spiral.

“Hhh—hh’ihhh-Hhhuhhh…!”

Rexar didn’t even pause, already holding the tissue up as her face crumpled.

“Let it out, babygirl.”

“hhh’nGNxxt! Ht’tchkt! Hihh’gxxxnt!! Hnngxgt!—snfhh…”

Each sneeze bent her in half, draining the little strength she had left. Her nose was raw, breath shallow, and her head throbbed with every release—but the sound of Rexar’s voice, calm and steady, wrapped around her like another blanket.

He kissed her hairline. “Let’s get you in.”

The second her body sank into the hot water, her shoulders slumped. Her eyes fluttered shut with relief, lashes damp, breath catching as the heat seeped into her aching bones.

“Better?” he asked, kneeling behind the tub and running his fingers gently through her tangled hair.

She could barely answer. Just nodded faintly, sniffling into her wrist.

Rexar gathered a handful of her crimson curls, massaging in lavender shampoo with a tenderness that made her chest ache. She tilted her head back, too weak to hold it steady on her own, and he supported her effortlessly, rinsing the suds out with a warm pour of water cupped in his hand.

She whimpered with the effort of another building sneeze, her breath hitching in a long, pitiful stutter. “Hhhuhhh-hhhuhh… R-Rexxx…”

He already had the tissue there.

“Go ahead, princess.”

“HhhGNTschhh!—hh’TSHHuhhkk!—Hhhuhhh… ughhhh…”

The sneezes knocked a soft cry out of her, and she reached blindly for his arm. He caught her hand, squeezing it in his.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. Just let it all out.”

He rinsed the soap from her skin next, dragging the warm water in smooth lines down her back and arms, cradling her like glass. She leaned fully into him as he washed the tension from her, lips parted with a shaky breath.

“Y-you dod’t have to d-do all this…” she whispered.

“I want to, Princess,” he said simply, cupping her cheek, his eyes heavy with nothing but love. “You’d do it for me.”

She didn’t answer that. Just blinked up at him, tears prickling from the strain of it all, and let herself believe that—for once—it was okay to not fight the comfort.

Rexar wrapped her in the fluffiest towel he could find, pressing her close to his chest as he carried her out of the bathroom. Her hair was damp and fragrant, skin flushed from the bath, and she was trembling more from exhaustion than chill now. Every few steps, her breath would stutter again, her nose twitching against his shirt as another round of helpless sneezes overtook her.

“Hhh’gnnxt! Hihh’tkshh! Hhh’Nxgshhh!”

She whimpered, curling tighter into him, and he didn’t flinch—just adjusted his grip and kept walking.

By the time they made it to the bedroom, she was more of a bundle than a person, bundled up in the towel and whatever strength she had left. Rexar laid her gently on the bed, the covers already turned down, the room warm from the central fireplace.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he said softly, kneeling beside her.

Kriia blinked at him through bleary, purple-lashed eyes. Her nose was pink and puffy, her lips chapped, and her face slick with the aftermath of too many sneezes to count. Her voice cracked as she tried to laugh—“You’re so full of shit,” she rasped.

But Rexar was already unscrewing the jar of vapor rub, unfazed. “No, I’m not,” he murmured, scooping a bit with two fingers. “You’re sick as hell and still somehow the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he pressed the cool salve gently to her chest, rubbing in slow, steady circles. Her breath hitched again, but this time, she shivered for a different reason.

“Just breathe, babygirl,” he said, dotting a tiny amount under her poor, raw nose. “Let it work.”

She sighed, low and content, eyes finally drifting closed as he eased her back into the pillows. He climbed into bed behind her, slipping under the covers and gathering her into his arms. His body radiated heat like a furnace, his chest broad and solid beneath her as she nestled against him.

His fingers found her hair, still damp but soft, and he ran them through the strands slowly, soothingly.

“Hhh—n’gtx!… snfhh…” she sniffled, her final sneeze of the night quiet and tired.

“I got you,” he whispered into her hair. “Always.”

The tension drained from her all at once. Her body melted into his, soothed by his warmth and steady breathing, and with one last congested little sigh, a soft snore escaped her parted lips.

Rexar smiled, never stopping the gentle motion of his fingers, even as her breathing evened out. He stayed there all night, holding her close—his sick, sleepy, beautiful babygirl—until the morning light crept in, and she was safe and resting deeply in his arms.

The End ✨

[charcoalgrayswriting]

I've seen some people say that Russel Adler is Phillip Graves's father. Interesting, but I think we are missing someone even more obvious

Kate Laswell.

According to a wiki I found she is ~45~ born in 1977. This is 4 years before 1981, the setting of BOCW, when Adler is 44. So it is feasible that he is the father, even if we add another 5+ years to Laswell's age. (Some people speculate her to be in her early 50s, which is still feasible considering Adler's age).

But I hear you! 'Laswell's last name isn't Adler!' Well I have a few explanations for this too. Maybe, he didn't know he had a kid at all, and she has her mothers last name. Maybe when he got divorced, as referenced in n BOCW and Laswell's mother changed their last names back to her maiden name, Adler may have even approved of this to keep them safe, I think it is completely reasonable to assume with his dedication to work that he would be an absent father, if one that still paid child support. Or, her last name WAS Adler, and upon marriage, she took her wife's last name.

OR the other idea, he is both of their fathers, but was a bit of a whore so he doesn't know he has kids lol. Or he only knew about one of them. Maybe there's just has a whole Accidental Adler Army out there.

But I think Laswell fits as his kid better than Graves. At the end of the day, Graves was greedy. He wanted his payday, even at the expense of others. Adler doesn't really exhibit this, and outwardly shows that he does what he does because he loves, if a bit fanatically, his country. I see Laswell fitting this more, as she is also ready to cross the line for her country, and she didn't get to her position in the cia by being some shrinking flower, and would probably brainwash someone too if she had no other options.

Anyway thank you for coming to my TedTalk, please feel free to shout at me if you think I'm wrong lol and also please feel free to add your own ideas I have literally no one irl to talk about this to

[peaches2217]

So this is officially the worst night ever and I will never emotionally recover from this. (I’m perfectly fine, I’m just bummed and intend to be as dramatic about it as possible to make myself feel better. 😆)

I had to wait until payday to get my medications, but I couldn’t pick them up until today. I also had a missions meeting at church today after work, so I figured I’d pick up my meds before the meeting. I was looking forward to both! Then I get an email saying the meeting was canceled. Sad, but oh well, that gives me more time to just chill after picking up my meds.

But then! The pharmacy is closed when I get there, even though they’re not scheduled to close for another hour and a half! There’s no note or anything explaining why they closed early, so I pray everyone and everything is alright, but also I’ve been off my meds for a few days now, which isn’t really helping the pre-existing depressive episode any.

So when I get home, I realize I have one bottle of water left. I have to turn right around and go get some more. While I’m out, I figured I’d treat myself to a massive Dr. Pepper. I’ve earned it! And nothing lifts the spirits quite like my favorite drink.

I get home. I drop my keys closing the car door. I set my Dr. Pepper on the hood so I can quickly grab my keys. I’m sure y’all can tell where this is going. I now have nothing more than an empty cup coated in a mix of Dr. Pepper and dirt with a couple of ice cubes still inside.

It’s only 6 and I’m ready to just go to bed and call it a day. 😭

[liliumsabyss]

In The Small Moments

Part 1, Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4, Pt 5,

Kaz Brekker x Gn Reader

Summary: Moulin Rouge/Satine Inspired!Reader and Kaz go undercover at a ball only for things to go terribly wrong.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48845809/chapters/123220936

Word Count: 5.16K

Tw: Angst and Fluff, Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Sex Work, No Smut, Mentions of Death, Forced Marriage, Manipulation, PTSD, reader called handsome but could be interrupted as in the old timey gender neutral way, maybe OOC Kaz Brekker, and Pekka Rollins

A/n: This is inspired by Moulin Rouge the musical both adaptations and the place. I imagine the characters to be more like 25 in this.

Early in the morning of Ketterdam fog hung over the streets, while most towns would be asleep, Ketterdam never slept. There was always laughing from a bar, hushed whispers from allies, the drunken shouts of yells, screams of a not so lucky passerbye, honey sweet calls from brothels, that was the barrel, that was the life you knew. You were awake at your desk running through the plans that a certain man had given you. The certain man who was feared by many, he had created numerous enemies yet remained in power, that man being the bastard of the Barrel, Kaz Brekker. And unfortunately for you the man your heart belonged to. You hadn’t quite been a dregger or a crow more like a person of select skills for even selector hire or in other words you sometimes applied these skills but only for Kaz Brekker. Not to say you didn’t get along with the crows, in fact you got along amazingly. They quite enjoyed your “refreshing” presence as they stated, the best term to explain your relation would be friends of some sort.

Otherwise you worked as a bartender and occasional waiter when it got crowded in the Crow Club. It wasn't anything much, however you always noticed a few extra gold coins that appeared in your pocket on payday. Many days after the Crow Club closed for the night or at that point what had been very early morning, it lay empty, Kaz’s companions off somewhere leaving the two of you in amicable silence as he slowly sipped on the strongest liquor on the shelf while you did whatever cleaning up needed to be done, many of times conversations would eventually spur. And then he found out about your particular skill set slowly once on a busy night you were waiting tables when a customer was getting a little too handsy with you after you repeatedly told him to stop Kaz was about to intervene only to see you grab the customers arm twisting it behind his body and smashing his head into the hard wooden edge of the gambling table breaking his nose. Most of the crowd at the table turned stunned, you quickly dropped the stuff off, gave a quick bow in apologies as you left, Kaz stood slightly impressed. Another time you had forgotten your key to open the club before the sun had even come up, you squatted down so you were eye level with the lock, quickly you rummaged through the pockets of your heavy woollen coat finding a random thin hooped earring you picked up on the street and a paperclip you quickly unbent the paperclip and pulled the thin hool straight as well little did you know Kaz was approaching when he spotted you crouched at the door however he saw you pull out the two random objects to his own confusion as you pushed them into the locks fiddling with the tumblers till you heard a click, you stood up and to the others shock opened the door, and then walked in. The third time he was talking to Jesper after the crow club had closed for the night and not bothering to care whether you were there. Jesper was discussing how the Landercrofts, a very wealthy family that were the head of one of the gangs, were having their annual ball in which the crows were planning to rob their vault during the party. Jesper had gotten his hands on false invitations and was stating how the dress code was black and white when you spoke up stating that the dress code this year was red, the black and white dress code was a rumour to set apart who had gotten invited and who was sneaking in. When Kaz and Jesper inquired into where you had gotten that information you explained how your connections made you quite knowledgeable of the barrel and many drunks let things slip. And the fourth time, was when you were carrying a glass from a table once the club was closed when you tripped the glass shattering at your feet Kaz who was by you when you tripped at the same time as you quickly belt down to pick up the glass out of an instinct. You both immediately reached for the largest piece when your hand brushed against his glove and he flinched only he really didn't. It was a slight twinge but less than usual so he tried it out again prying the glass out of your hands and once again he was a little nerved but better than he had with pretty much anyone else. So Kaz could only see one thing to do with your talents and would hire you on the occasion he saw fit which was becoming more and more often. Tonight was the ball that the crows had prepared for months for and the one in which you provided consistent information for, Kaz only saw it fit as you would be one of the ones to directly infiltrate the ball.

Hours passed by as you ran through the plans over and over again before you knew it, it was evening just a few hours before the ball. You frantically got ready scolding yourself for being so careless with watching the time. You grabbed the blood red outfit that laid on your bed for the past day delivered personally by Kaz. The brunette male had also delivered the red mask that was decorated in black markings intricately painted and sculpted; mixed with the outfit there was no way that Kaz paid for it just for you for this one event, someone had to owe him a debt for this. You quickly got yourself ready like you had used to, it had been a long time since you wore anything like this and you were glad for it. A sharp knock came from your door as you scrambled stuffing any possible tools you’d need into various hidden pockets. Opening the old door which let out an unpleasant creak revealed Kaz in a black and red suit to match your outfit.

“ Good your ready we need to go” Kaz let out curtly which was not what he wanted to say yet it was all that he could let out in the cold streets of Ketterdam where anyone could hear anything and take things the wrong way but for what he was going to say they surely would have took it the correct way. You gave a swift nod, looking behind him to see a black horse drawn carriage, Nina and Jesper at the driver's seat waiting impatiently for you two to climb into the back.

“ I thought Inej and Jesper were also supposed to be going in with us?” You questioned, confused at Inej’s lack of presence and Jesper at the reins in a not ball ready outfit.

“ They will be going in just not with, now if we want to be on time we must move.” Kaz responded as he turned walking away climbing into the back of the carriage you followed in tow closing the door as you entered.

Sitting on the plush cushions you ran your hand against the seat and the wooden sill that elegantly framed the window, you breathed in the stale air of the carriage the feeling, the smell had all been so familiar to all those days and nights it was honestly shocking you could forget it for this long. Kaz eyed you silently, watching your face twinge in familiarity however that look was soon gone in your eyes and an eerie tint of hatred flickered. For the rest of the ride you just peered out the window mindlessly. The lights from the mansion shimmered as you approached in your carriage many other carriages also appeared to be dropping guests off. The carriage slowly stopped to a stuttering halt pausing as the carriage rocked slightly giving away that either Jesper or Nina had gotten off their seats. The carriage door swung open, Nina holding it wide open. You put the mask on quickly looking over to Kaz who had done the same, his mask being black decorated with red instead, the inverse of yours. The man swiftly climbed out of the carriage waiting with his hand outreached ready to help you out of it as the carriage hobbled. Nina eyed the two of you in surprise as you took his hand carefully stepping down the wobbling carriage, lights poured carefully out of the manor barley illuminating the pathways that led to the large doors that were cracked and every so often would open letting light flood onto the party goers entering the masquerade. Kaz left his elbow out as you tucked your arm into it carefully so as not to look suspicious to other attendees. The brunette male held the invitations in his opposite hand, grasping them tightly. Stiffly walking up to the doors large men who had large swords sheathed in leather at their sides; ready to be pulled out against any threat to the people of the manor. The guards had displeased faces as they stood tall, intimidating, snatching invitations out of the hands of masked figures. Shortly You and Kaz stood before a guard who stood with her arms crossed and the corner of her lips pulled into a tight frown. Kaz stared at her equal in expression for a long couple of seconds before swiftly putting his arm up the two pale beige invitations decorated in gold swirls with hints of red trickled on them the women to the invitations inspecting them carefully front and back before taking out a wooden plank the split into two three quarters of the way she wedged one of the invitations between the the slit in the plank harshly squeezing it together giving it back to Kaz’s outstretched hand revealing it to have a red seal marking the paper, the guard did the same to the other begrudgingly knocking on the large painted metal and wood doors causing them to slowly open. You and the stiff brunette behind you slipped through into the manor. Laughter and music filled the air swirling around the stuffy air of the large ballroom, gowns splaying out from being turned by their suit and gown clad partners. Standing at the top of the marble stairs looking down upon the people down below, the shoulder that pressed against you that was tensed loosened slightly with a relieved breath. Turning your head to look at Kaz he slanted his head to you in return giving a sharp nod before you both took equally swift steps toward the stairs before descending into the madness of the ballroom. Kaz took a step away from the stairs and away from you his red gloved hand offering his hand with his other arm plastered behind him only then did you noticed the absence of his cane, you gave him a confused look to which he took a step to you whispering below his breath.

“ We cannot afford to look suspicious.” Kaz said lowly pulling up the leg of his suit revealing a slight gleam of metal which appeared to be a brace only letting it fall quickly before taking a step back to once again offer his hand. People whirled around behind him but you could only see him under the warm chandelier light that illuminated the marble floor and sparkling cloth.

“ Of course” You replied fondly to both the gesture and his comment, gently taking his hand taking several steps out onto the floor before turning toward each other. The song that had been playing had finished partners taking a step back bowing or curtsying to the other. The music picked up again with a medium pace waltz, guests flocking toward each other for the dance.

“ Do you want to lead or shall I?” The brunette in front of you commented fidgeting stiffly once again.

“ Eh doesn’t matter to me, dealer's choice.” You shrugged in response figuring that while Kaz offered he probably only knew one of those options if even considering his aversion toward contact. Kaz took a step closer lifting your hand which still lightly remained in his to his shoulders which he set on his ridged boney shoulder his hand reached for your side placing it gently and you grabbed his other hand raising it up holding it slightly below your shoulder as well as out. Kaz moved his foot toward yours, yours moving back in response to the waltzing causing a game of call and response in your movements. Your partner moved his head closer to the side of yours leaning in his mouth by your ear, you could feel a hot breath tickling your ear making a slight tinge of fluster.

“ We need to distract the Landercrofts, Alinda Landercroft and Jerad Landercoft are over by there by the fourth column from the window,” Kaz whispered carefully stopping midway to turn you a subtle gesture you understood, getting a flash of the pale couple in their 50’s, Alinda Landercoft wore a deep red chiffon and miniver gown that was adorned with ruffles while Jerad Landercroft wore a black suit with a red suit vest that matched the same shade of red of his wife, a large top hat stood on his head causing his short grey hair to sprawl out.

“ Their son Devlin is over there succumbing to his seduction activities.” The brunette gestured with his head to the blonde haired male around your age. He was surrounded by a couple of people of all genders who were fawning over him, him just giving a lazy suggestive smile to each of them. He wore a loose black top that cut low into his chest, a red vest tightened to his figure and black dress pants that were tight around his waist leaving little to the imagination a seemingly common theme with his outfit.

“ Once this song ends we should make discussion with Alinda Landercroft and her husband, their son seems busy enough.” Kaz said vaguely referring to his flirting where now a short haired person in a dress that had a very low bust and corset that pushed their chest up, rubbed said chest against his arm as you groaned in disgust.

And as the song ended the two of you briskly walked toward the older-ish couple who were laughing as you approached. You stopped before the couple you and Kaz bowing your heads slightly as the Landercroft’s looked at you in curiosity.

“ Hello Mr. Landercroft, Mrs. Landercroft,-” Kaz started as you internally sighed at his bluntness that was going to get you guys caught before you decided to interrupt him.

“ Mr Landercroft, Mrs Landercroft! Truly this gala is lovely, every year you never fail to impress me or my husband!” You exclaim in delight to them touching Kaz’s arm affectionately at the term “husband” as the brunette give you a wild slightly disturbed look at your behaviour to which you just gave him a slight unnoticeable jab to the ribs.

“ Oh well thank you my dear! But may I be reminded of who you are? My memory isn't as sharp as it used to be.” Mrs. Landercroft said jokingly as you all(except for Kaz) let out a slight chuckle at her statement.

“ Of course don’t worry I get it, I am (F/n) Casspian and this is my wonderful husband Kazmere Casspian. Between you and me he’s not much of a talker unless it comes down to business.” You tell them fake whispering the last part to Mrs. Landercroft in which she responded with a hearty laugh as Kaz rolled his eyes in response but slightly thankful you’d be handling the small talk especially with how much of a natural you were at this.

“ Same with mine dear!” She laughed out as her husband grumbled beside her as you joined her laughter faking it.

“ Now what did you say you did again?” She “asked” or in the world of the rich she was demanding you explain how you got into the party as people these rich rarely personally invite people more so often leaving it to trusted members of the household to invite people of popularity, opportunity, or influence.

“ The Casspians own that metal company. I believe I recently heard about it from an associate, I hear that it's becoming very influential.” Mr. Landercroft spoke up in a very “knowledgeable” tone which would have been knowledgeable except for the fact that none of it was true nor was it planted information just the older man trying to show off. Both you and and the brunette next to you turned your heads slightly making eye contact with a look of confusion at what bullshit this man was spewing to which you both just shrugged your shoulders slightly turning your attention back to the couple.

“ Yes and we were hoping to establish some sort of arrangement between our company and yours.” The brunette says to the elderly couple to which both looked shocked to see him speaking however you internally smiled smug at the distraction this provided the others who should be close to the vault in the eastern wing of the manor.

“ That would be great, son!” Mr. Landercroft said walking over clapping Kaz on the back was quite hard as Kaz flinched away from the contact, inching closer to you pressing tightly against your arm as you felt his arm trembling slightly against yours. You carefully snaked your hand towards his tightly clenched fist nudging it with your pinky in a silent ask. His hand slacked open in response as your hand slid into his carefully rubbing circles onto the back of his hand as his shaking slowly started to decrease as the older man in front of you ran his mouth off about his company.

“ Well son why don’t we all head to my office to hash out the details.” Mr. Landercroft stated hearty as he laughed, putting out his arm for his wife. You looked as Kaz grimacing when the others were not looking, pointing your head towards Devlin who was still wrapped up “entertaining” the people around him. The brunette nodded in understanding at your subtle gesture.

“ Mr Landercroft I would love to join however I must leave my husband up to this, an old acquaintance of mine appears to be here and I’ve never been good at business.” You speak in fake regret towards the couple furrowing your eyebrows together and letting out a tight lipped smile. The couple nodded in understanding of your statement. You turned to Kaz one of your hands still holding his slightly trembling one, you carefully grabbed his other hand with your free one looking at him for any resistance to which you received none you gently raised both his towards each other raising them to your mouth as you bowed your head maintaining eye contact with him lightly brushing your lips against his gloved hands the thick cotton rough under your lips as you placed a soft kiss on them. Kaz's eyes only widened slightly as the corners of his lips threatened to twitch into a warm small smile so faintly you may not have even realised nothing like his manic and greedy smile but a smile that held whatever pieces of his heart had been left. And so you let him go which caused a faint tug at your own heart as you watched him leave with the couple, your eyes trailing him as much as you could before he completely disappeared through the crowd. You turned back to the people whirling in endless mindless circles in lavish gowns and suits. This is the life they know and for most of them all they’ve known but it was also a life you knew, you knew it in the twisted behind closed doors way. And so you skimmed the crowd following it all the way to the blonde man who leaned in close to one of the people that was crowded around him a inch distance from their face with a smirk on his. You made up your mind and decided you would distract him yourself to avoid suspicion of just standing in the open unmoving, unamused. So you walk up to the male swaying your hips slightly, an innocent smile that holds a slight suggestiveness undertone to it cringing internally. The blonde's eyes turned wide for a second before his entire face turned into a smirk as he stopped leaning against the pillar standing straight up, his arms still crossed.

“ Well hello,” Devlin stated seductively(?), more like an attempt to be seductive to which you internally groaned with disgust. But regardless of how cringe worthy it felt you went along with it looking way in fake flusteredness.

“ Hello,” You replied meekly, crying internally at how awful the situation was. The blonde just continued to smirk as he took a step towards you.

“ Well what caused you to wander over here love.” The man replied teasingly and unfortunately for him horribly unattractive. And so your fake waltz began with your “subtle flirting” and his prowling responses. Many of the people who had been fawning over him had walked away with their noses high in the air, scoffing, at your presence it certainly hadn’t been the first time you experienced this but hopefully would be the last. And so your little dance began with slight touches, suggestive innocent sentences, and so on, all part of your careful scheme of distraction. And oh how you dreaded it weaving a web around the playboy who only expected you to be an innocent party-goer who had been entranced by him not a thief who took the role upon themself to protect the man and friends they had come to adore.

“ Well darling how about we head to somewhere more private.” The blonde said his voice dropping as he pressed his mouth against your ear, you having to clench your fingernails into your palm to resist the urge to push him away. But of course you had a role to play and so you’d play it. Your lips turned into a slight pout as you spoke up.

“ Well could we have one dance…first?” You trailed off hugging his arm, an obnoxious move but one that charmed him and most likely only his lips turned into a gentle smile.

“ Why of course.” He responded lightly as he reached his out for yours ready for you to grasp it. You of course did as the two of you walked out into the centre which had just concluded the previous dance, some couples fled to the side, some stayed and some joined. All on the floor stayed perfectly still as they were in their spots until the musicians started to play. It was a medium paced dance and one you knew well. You sighed in relief at the fact you knew the dance and one that you knew well but not only that the dance was one in which you switched partners for a large portion of it in the middle meaning you could get a break from Devlin, what a relief that would be. Your whirling and steps began him sweeping you through the other couples narrowly missing one another, Devlin holding you to him as tight as he possibly could. You on the other hand were mentally counting down the seconds till you would get to switch partners. Then finally what felt like forever you spun away only to be caught by what you’d hoped was anyone better than him. You were wrong. The man in front of you had his hair gelled matching his thick beard and moustache, his eyes stared coldly into you, a smirk upon his lips. You knew the man, you knew him very well and you hated him, you hated him for yourself, for the people he’s hurt, and for Kaz. But there he was in front of you smirking your dance partner, any sliver of hope you’d had. He didn't recognize you went out the window when you came face to face with him.

“ Rollins.” You spat at him, your face seething with anger.

“ (Y/n)” He responded back with that stupid greedy smirk on his face causing you to roll your eyes.

“ You are looking as great as ever, tell me have you taken a visit back yet since your little runaway stunt.” He commented, the words rolling off his tongue in a fake syrupy sweetness. You gritted your teeth together as you stared at his cold gaze with one equally of coldness, possibly even more.

“ Do not even speak of that to me.” You hissed at him hating how one of his hands rested on your waist and the other touching your hand, but most of all you hated how you had to continue this charade with the man, the man that the person you cared for had despised.

“ Oh you mean the Red Windmill or Ryker Knox because both are missing their shining diamond terribly,” He started your face twisting briefly into horror before going back to being enraged “ You know nobody would have ever thought you would have run away from the man much less to the bastard of the barrel.”

“ What are you talking about?” You state sharply trying to feign ignorance in masking your terror that you might’ve put a larger target on Kaz’s back.

“ Oh you know what I’m talking about, I know you quite fancy that bastard but what would dear old Ryker say about that…” He trailed off getting closer, his voice dropping lowly.

“ If you dare do something-” You began to threaten before he clicked his tongue interrupting you.

“ Well for starters I could order my men to go capture them right now don’t think I don’t know about your little heist,” he interrupted now finally so close he was whispering in your ear as you shuddered in fear at the fact you knew why all the guards looked vaguely familiar they had been Rollins in disguise of course they had, “ or you could listen to me and your dear bastard and his group of misfits will go free unharmed, accomplishing their heist, and you won’t be dragged back to Knox.”

“ What do you want?” You said out of your clenched teeth to him terrified at his threat. You couldn’t let them be caught if you could’ve done something to avoid it and you certainly wouldn't, no you couldn’t allow yourself to be dragged back to that awful awful man. You would allow yourself to take your very last breath before you’d ever go back to him willingly or unwilling. Pekka only smirked in response from the little you had seen of him pulling away from your ear for a slight moment before leaning back.

“ To leave with me. You are to leave with me and work for me,” He started as you raised your eyebrow at why he’d possibly want you, you could offer up a decent set of skills but none he needed unless it had to do with your prior “occupation” in which you’d rather die however if thats what would save your friends and your livelihood so be it. But then the man continued, “ And when you do so, when the bastard comes for you, you will tell him no, you will reject the boy and you will break his heart.”

“ Is there anything else?” You let out monotonous, staring ahead blankly ignoring the man's disgustingly hot breath against your ear before pulling away doing the turn the dance required only to slam back into him. You hadn’t questioned his condition, you knew Kaz wouldn’t come for you, and you couldn’t even blame him for it how could you, it wasn’t going to break his heart that the bartender who had some extra abilities would end up going with Pekka Rollins his enemy sure it would piss him off in terms of loyalty but break his heart no, no it wouldn’t. But of course you couldn’t fathom how much it actually would, how would you when the only time the man would let his heart bleed for you was in the moments you’d blink and for those split milliseconds his gaze would soften when it wandered to you, or when the early hours of the morning when even the crows of Ketterdam slept but he’d be the only person up his mind drifting to you so quietly, or in crowded rooms when he could pick out your voice out , out of the many drinking it in memorising it ever so thoroughly, or maybe it was when he’d watch you clean the club late at night after closing and he‘d get to indulge at letting your name roll off his tongue not having to fear the world hearing, so yes how would you know when he loved you in the quiet moments, moments of time no one in the world could detect in his terror of someone finding out. And yet he failed.

“ All you will need to do is sit there and look handsome, with the possibility of obtaining information.” He responded back his voice slick with victory his words slithering like a snake into your ear but it wasn’t words of temptation he whispered it was venom it was the venom of the life you could not live it was the venom that would kill your livelihood, kill your soul, and ultimately kill you. But it wasn’t a choice it was a sword and a vial of poison it was death for you either way one would be slow and painful, guilt, shame, and hatred would be one or the other where only you would suffer completely it would take a bit of time to kick in but only you would be harmed without having to worry about the others. And so your choice was made you acting as your own executioner.

“ I will do it, but only if you agree that they will go successfully with the heist and you will not do anything to them directly or indirectly.” You said firmly making your final stand refusing to let any loopholes get through for your effort.

“ Fine, I agree. Let us go.” he said, grabbing your wrist harshly, twisting it a little bit as he dragged you to the door as you attempted to keep looking back a few times desperately as a final last hope that one of the crows may be there but of course this was reality they were not. And so you were dragged out into the dark night by the monster who was to cage you once again. The stars and sky of Ketterdam had never looked as cold and dull as they did tonight but you attempted to ignored them as you got into the dark carriage not caring to look around just staring blankly into the void of the night, the lights of the manor disappearing behind you and the weight of what you had just agreed to started consuming you into the void of the night.

[stereax]

Can you explain the erik-canes drama please 😚

Yeah, no problem, anon! Meet me under the read more for the details :)

So last night we found Haulzy wearing a "Canes Suck" bracelet -

(let the record show I posted this FIRST before the Canes fans found it because I am speedier than them and also much better in every single way 😉)

Now, you may be asking yourself, "why is a grown, 32-year-old hockey player of a man wearing a bracelet that says Canes Suck on it?" That is a WONDERFUL question. First, let's look at Haula's career.

Erik Haula was drafted in the seventh round by Minnesota. He played for the Wild for a few years before, well, the Wild essentially sold him to the Golden Knights in the expansion draft - they basically sent Vegas Alex Tuch (one of their better prospects) for a third and "expansion draft considerations", meaning the Knights would choose Haula in the draft and not a player like Matt Dumba or Marco Scandella, who were more vital to the Wild's core.

Haula plays for the Knights for two years - he's part of the team that wills itself into the Cup finals in 2017-18. In 2018-19, Haula goes down early, getting injured in a game against Toronto that keeps him out the rest of the season.

Vegas trades him to Carolina three days before his wedding. It's a Kelly McCrimmon move - and if you know the Knights, you know what that means (trading fan favorites for better returns). By all accounts, Haula loved Vegas, so he's going into this Carolina thing with some apprehension, especially because this is the last year on his contract. If he puts up good numbers, he's going to get a payday. If not, well, probably not. Remember, he had a career year in 2017-18. He wants to prove he's got what it takes.

Alright. He gets there, gets hurt for a few games with an LBI, comes back, gets hurt again and is out for a few weeks. At the time he gets his second injury, he's got 11 points in 16 games, with 8 goals, one less than team leaders Svechnikov, Aho, and Hamilton (all of whom played more games). So the dude's playing stellar, but then gets banged up. He slots back into the lineup just before Christmas.

And here's where things go south. You see, Haula and his wife, Kristen, were planning to start a family. Kristen got pregnant probably around August, given that when Haula posted the baby announcement on his Instagram he noted a May due date.

The baby is found without a heartbeat 12/30/19.

Erik Haula plays the next day and pots a goal and an assist.

It's a second-trimester miscarriage, which means it's likely Kristen had to deliver a stillborn baby.

He points to the sky after the goal, honoring his lost daughter.

It's around this time that relations between Haula and the Canes begin to take a nosedive.

(Fun fact, contrary to what Canes fans will tell you, Haula's play only suffered significantly after the miscarriage. In the four games in December he played before the miscarriage, he got 2 goals and 2 assists, so in 20 games he had 15 points which is nothing to scoff at for a middle-sixer. Despite being tossed around a bit in the lineup, he was still producing very well.)

Reports of exactly what was going on are incredibly difficult to find and are generally tainted by the biases of whoever writes them. It's stated that Haula was, in some way or another, "forced" to play the day after the miscarriage and never given time to emotionally recover from it. He gets scratched a few times (and again, it's a contract year for him, so ice time is exceedingly valuable). There are rumors of a "shouting match" between Haula and head coach Rod Brind'Amour. Supposedly, he's not participating in after-game workouts that Brind'Amour makes the team do (for recovery) and thus "doesn't fit the culture of the team", "has no respect", and "is a jerk". (Which... we'd prefer him do work on the ice, thanks???) Other rumors say he's "bullying" the rookies on the Canes (which have never been corroborated by a reliable source nor been backed up by similar actions anywhere else). Kristen makes vague posts on Instagram that Canes fans interpret as being derogatory towards the team - Reddit widely quotes one as "Don't allow your loyalty to become slavery. If they aren't appreciating what you bring to the table, let them eat alone."

So Haula gets dealt at the deadline to the Panthers as part of a deal for Vincent Trocheck, after playing only 41 games for the Canes. And he journeys around the NHL for a few years after that before finding his home in New Jersey.

Ever since then, the Canes have absolutely haunted Haula. The "1-14" thing Canes fans put on pictures of him? It's because, since leaving the Canes, he's won once at their home rink (PNC)... and lost 14 times. In three consecutive years, his teams have lost to the Canes each time in the playoffs (Predators, Bruins, then Devils, respectively). He's the first player that happened to, where he played for three different teams and each year lost to the same team.

Canes fans boo him every time he touches the ice - for them, he's a traitor that shit-talked Raleigh and the team and backs it up by playing like a goon when he's against them.

So if there's one person on the whole Devils roster who deserves to wear a Canes Suck bracelet, it's Uncle Haula.

Go off, king.

📿👑

~ [ Addendum 1: Pasta ] ~

David Pastrnak, much like Erik Haula, also lost a child - his son died only six days old. I'm sure, when Pasta accidentally ran into Antti Raanta on the ice during the 2022 playoffs, they didn't go on his socials and make disgusting comments about his child's death...

Oh? They did? Well then.

Canes fans will tell you they only had the utmost of respect for Haula during his miscarriage and never used it against him, both during and after his Canes tenure. Somehow, I doubt that.

But maybe that's just me.

~ [ Addendum 2: Signs ] ~

When Canes fans make signs like this about you, it's understandable why you get upset.

The sign reads "It's me. Haula. I'm the problem. It's me. Hi everybody agrees", with cutouts of Haula's former teams' logos pasted on top.

What's so strange is that no Panthers, Bruins, Knights, Predators, or Wild fans seem to have a problem with Haula. It's only the Canes fans calling him "locker room cancer". Jack Hughes disagrees with this assessment.

Coincidentally, the "locker room cancer" charge was also famously said about Dougie Hamilton...

Oh, hey, look, some Canes fans behind the Devils' bench, just behind Jack, made a sign! I'm sure it's nice and respectful :)

Wait, is that Ellen Weinberg-Hughes next to a man whose face is photoshopped to be Sebastian Aho?

The sign says "Jack Your Mom's A Ho", by the way.

And several Canes players signed it.

"Bunch of jerks" is right.

So if you wonder why Jack Hughes beat the shit out of Sebastian Aho... look no further.

~ [ Addendum 3: Culture ] ~

Once again, I point you to this post by eugeniosuarez -

1 is about Jordan Staal, 2 and 3 are about Tony DeAngelo, if you're unsure.

Yeah, I think I see the culture problem here. Just to be clear, this one, right?

Glad we're on the same page 👍

[prettytm]

Frank watches, amused, as Billy knocks over banks with an ease that makes blue collar cops and crusty CEOs both weep with frustration— and he can't bring himself to do a damned thing about it. Those joints are insured. Sure sure, in the aftermath they love to get in front of the cameras and talk about gang violence and the savings and livelihoods of poor innocent people being stolen, but they're the ones liable for every red cent. And far as he can tell? Old Jigsaw's playing by the rules. Even if he does put the money into drugs, he doesn't deal to kids or certain types. He's targeted in his ruining of lives. Mostly he deals in weapons, in building all kinds of nasty little networks, but he doesn't peddle flesh or get too unsavory.

He just takes from the rich and makes himself and a bunch of new generation goons richer. What, exactly, is there supposed to be to Punish about that? When everyone plays by the rules, Jigsaw's crimes are bloodless or damn near. Rarely ever lethal. Maybe one day, when his empire is big enough, he'll finally get into the kind of dealings that'll make Frank put him in line, but that day has yet to come.

Still... just to keep him sharp, on his toes and ever-ready to pivot and adapt... Frank shoots out the back tires of his get-away vehicle and lets the NYPD gain on him a little. If he's not good enough to get out of that, he doesn't deserve to be running the streets.

In and out. One plant inside to make sure the entire thing doesn't go tits up and another on the force just to make sure a little chaos helped keep ten minutes, ten minutes. They have a plan, they executed the plan, or he had every one of them out on their asses too scared to talk about Jigsaw and his operations. He runs his outfit like a well oiled machine. Like he would have ran his unit it. Anyone with eyes skilled enough would know the masterpiece it was. In.

Out.

Ten minutes.

No one's hurt. Not even the mouthy rent a center cop at the door.

It's clean. He's proud. And there's something to be said for a man that with a brain rattling around in a head full of holes that he's still skilled and talented enough to do the damn near impossible. It's a fucking thing of beauty. His smile is giddy, gleeful. Another payday. Another mission successful. His crew is laughing, they're boys with their fingers in the cookie jar.. Chocolate and crumbles to take back to their hidey holes. They got wives, kids, families to feed and the man in charge needs another few million to save. Filling the holes in his face and the ones in his soul. They hit a bump and the set of dog tags around his neck jingle, three metals, three names and then a creeping sensation crawls over his skin. "Quiet."

He feels him. Like he always does when he has him in his sights. Seconds later the tire blows and he throws his head back to cackle. A deranged sound filling their getaway car. "Boss?!" "Eeeeh, you'd be dead if he wanted ya." He rolls down the window and flips him off.. all but hearing the answering dark chuckle on the wind.

[trensu]

an excerpt of the newest chapter of the halfway house fic based on this past post. Enjoy :)

“Steve, come get your furry little menace! He’s chewing up my laces again,” Robin grumbled.

“Maybe if your laces are ruined, you’ll finally buy a new pair of shoes,” Steve snarked. Steve walked to the living room to find Robin attempting to tie her old Converse only to snatch back her hands every time the kitten took a swipe at the laces in question. “He’s just a baby. He wants to play.”

“He can get his own laces to play with, then. And there’s nothing wrong with my shoes. I’m not going to go buy new shoes when these are perfectly functional. And my favorite color.”

Steve scooped the kitten up even as he kept reaching for the laces and cuddled him to his chest. Steve rubbed gently behind the kitten’s ears until the kitten relaxed into tiny purrs.

“What do you think, Dustin? Should Robin get new shoes? Raise your paw if you agree with me,” Steve said. He lifted the kitten’s right paw and waved it a bit, making the kitten squirm. “See, he agrees with me.”

Robin snorted and rolled her eyes at his teasing smile. “I still can’t believe you named him Dustin.”

The kitten chose that moment to start climbing up Steve’s shirt to reach his shoulder. His tiny claws pricked at Steve’s skin through the thin fabric but they were so small, they barely hurt at all. Steve laughed as the kitten settled on his shoulder and began to mew at the top of his lungs.

“It’s not my fault he looks like a Dustin,” Steve insisted. When he brought the kitten home two days ago, Robin tried to name him something else but Steve put his foot down about it. He found the kitten, and he thought the kitten was a Dustin, so no other name was allowed. 

Dustin let out another mew so loud he nearly toppled over. Steve pulled him off his shoulder with an amused huff. Dustin wriggled incessantly in his hands. Steve lost his grip on him but thankfully he had gotten him close enough to the ground by then that the fall was negligible to a cat.

“Okay, okay, we’ll play for a little while, you needy baby.”

He and Robin were waiting for payday to run to the pet store for more supplies. They were lucky that their neighbor across the hall had an old litter box that her cat had outgrown, and a couple of spare food bowls. She had even given them a few cans of wet food, cooing over the kitten all the while. Dustin, apparently, was a charming little guy. He obviously took after Steve. Robin had punched him on the arm when he said as much.

In the meantime, they were using old bits of string and a little orange ball Robin had stolen back when they worked at a mini-golf place. The kitten seemed to enjoy them well enough but Steve planned on getting him fancier playthings and some catnip. He rolled the ball across the floor and the kitten chased after it. He pounced on it, wobbly, which sent the ball rolling again for another chase. Steve laughed. Robin giggled along with him.

“He’s lucky he’s adorable. Otherwise we’d be having problems, him and I,” Robin said with a grin. Her mischievous demeanor softened slightly. “I’m glad you found him, you big old softie. Now you can stop moping so much.”

Steve ducked away when she reached to ruffle his hair. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said, lightheartedly. “Maybe if I do a good job with him, someone will finally let me have a kid.” 

The kitten had apparently gotten bored of the ball and was attempting to climb up the back of the couch. Steve quickly grabbed him so he would damage the upholstery. He booped the kitten’s nose.

“What do you think, baby? Will I be a good dad? Be honest.”

Dustin grabbed his finger and gnawed at it while making the most precious sounds. A purring mew.  Steve’s heart melted; though from what he had read, he really shouldn’t let Dustin get accustomed to using his hands as playthings.

Steve resigned himself to losing half his paycheck to cat toys.

Continue on Ao3

ps: i do not do reader tag lists or whatever those things are called. i tag all my writing with 'trensu tells stories' so please just follow that tag if you wanna keep up with my stuff, thank you

[mylittleredgirl]

m*a*s*h update: rest of season three!!

i watched "aid station" and transcended to another realm

i watched it three times and will watch it many more i am SURE

the adventure! the war up close! hardship-earned respect and affection!!!!!

"never let it be said that i didn't do the least i could do" i need that in live laugh love font on my wall

this episode reminded me a few times that oh right, hot lips is the only one of the main cast who signed up and trained for the army on purpose

(and father mulcahey i suppose?)

anyway. long story short. if they had actually shown hot lips changing that tire i would never recover

"love and marriage" - hooray for kwang getting a personality and backstory, and hawkeye and trapper trying to make amends for frank

absolutely bananas that the officers hear a fight happening outside with a shot fired and collectively ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and keep playing. henry you are in charge. someone could be dead

"big mac" - i loved the opening in the o.r.! sometimes it gets a little mean-spirited in there, but this is a light-hearted day at the office where everyone in the room gets to laugh out loud as frank walks right in the teeth of it for literally no reason

i am enjoying the ongoing bit of hawkeye or trapper saying hello to frank and him responding to an insult they haven't said

hot lips's little "frank, they'll kill you." she's not even trying to defend him. she has given up against the overwhelming tide

the casual revelation in "payday" that henry has an open question in his mind about whether or not he's radar's father is a late-breaking reveal i'm gonna think about for a while

colonel flagg. hmm. his first episode was pretty funny because of the spy vs spy thing, but spy vs self was a dud

and then! "abyssinia, henry"!!!! 😢

my gratitude to the anonymous benefactor who hooked me up with a digital copy of this episode, since the dvd cut out before the last scene. which as it turns out!!! was important.

for television in general i assume

not to reveal myself too much as an uncultured hack... but i will confess my first reaction was "well, that was unnecessary"

in my defense!! i'm watching it in 2024, when a character death happening in an off-screen coda would really seem like a showrunner slamming the door behind a departing actor to make sure they couldn't come back no matter what change.org petition the fans cooked up on twitter, you know?

BUT. placing myself back in time. where this is happening partly as a commentary on another war, i get it!! unnecessary death is the point!! it's a tragedy people will have to sit with for months while the show is on hiatus!

HE NEVER MET HIS BABYYYYY (who they clearly forgot about, or they probably would have reminded us in the episode itself just to drive that punch home)

anyway, i have really never seen such a lovingly crafted goodbye episode for a character 💕

somebody PLEASE give radar a hug!!!!!! once per episode for the rest of the show!!!!

i mean sure henry DIED which obviously sucks for him and his variable number of children, but here radar loses his surrogate dad and gets frank in exchange. i mean tell me who suffered more

anyway!!!! in conclusion, season three was so good and funny and will be a tough act to follow!

my final awards for season three 🏆 best drama: aid station; best comedy: alcoholics unanimous; one i could most do without: the general flipped at dawn.

[sesshy380]

Well, it was a nice 5 days off. Back to the grindstone. Kinda. Sorta. This time of year my hours get literally cut in half (which really sucks come payday).

I managed to churn out a small ref for Kat in those 5 days (which you already saw the small preview of). I think it's safe to say that I am much better at drawing anthro beings than people lol

On the left you have Kat in her human form, on the right is her demigod from (this is what Bakhure saw in 'Our Scars remind Us that the Past was Real')

I originally envisioned the demigod form as having hair on the head as well, but when I added it I didn't like it. Honestly, it's an aesthetic I've never had hard-set in stone, and I like how this came out.

I know her hair/fur is supposed to be 'midnight' in color, but it's kind of hard to do that without everything looking so bland and monotone. Technically her wings and spots are supposed to have that little rainbow sheen like you seen on raven wings when the light hits it just right, but I'm not that good yet to be able to show off those details lol

A few other aesthetic changes I've made is that she's not dressed in all black in either form. This is another way of avoiding monotony. I might do a longfic accurate version of both forms at some point, but for now, you get this.

[crispy-bonnie]

Hi! May I please request a scenario when members of the Payday Gang met their s/o?

Here's how it goes: Business as usual one day, robbing and etc. They point a gun at s/o, but s/o is not phased one bit. Then, they tell s/o to open their bank account and give up all their money.

S/o does what they say, but then they see that s/o's balance is in literal negative numbers. Like -10,000+ s/o is broke as f***

Then s/o starts crying because they're so broke. How does the gang react?

okay i'm gonna add a few changes to the prompt but like hELLO I LOVE THE IDEA JAJDJSB

and also , these hc's will be written for the main four + bain rather than individual heisters , so apologies if it's not what you're looking for

oh and another thing , these are VERY poorly written bc i'm just now getting back into writing again lmao

You're broke as hell - The PAYDAY gang

I'm gonna tell you right now

The gang has absolutely no fucking clue what's comin'

All they know is that you have ties to someone/something important and they need to get the point across to whoever or whatever they're targeting

Bain figures that robbing you while you're at the bank would be the best bet. Plus, it could get them some extra moolah if they go after the vault too

What they don't know is that your ties to the fuckers their after only have to do with financial things

More particularly, money loaning

You couldn't seem to keep up with their demands for payment with your minimum wage job as well as your need for basic necessities, your bank account never having money because of it

As the place is being shot up, you're escorted to another room by Dallas where you're held at gunpoint to open up your bank account

And I tell you what, everyone, including the heisters, when they saw your bank account's numbers in the negative

And you're not even phased either

You just go 'Damn, sucks to be you'

You can hear faint sounds of Bain and the others speaking through Dallas's earpiece despite the gunshots and screams echoing through the rest of the bank

"The FUCK do you mean their account has no money!?"

"I don't know gang! I didn't see this coming at all! But we're not leaving empty handed! That vault still has a mountain of cash for you to take, so get to it gang!"

With one final look from Dallas through his American flag mask, he runs off and leaves you there, where law enforcement swoops in to get you outta there

Days later, you're scrolling through your email (which mostly consisted of threats from your loan sharks) and find an encrypted message from someone

Having nothing to lose, you click on it

It contains a cryptic ass message, saying that if you provide info about the loan sharks, they'll get rid of your debts and get you some sweet cash in your bank account

You knew damn well that this was that gang that robbed you days earlier, as your lack of money was only known between you and the loan sharks

Again, having nothing to lose, you accept the offer and give as much information has possible

Another couple days go by, and you find yourself finally freed from your debts, those threats coming to a sudden halt and your bank account suddenly having enough money to sustain yourself for a while

Even after the whole thing, when you're pretty much set for life, more surprises keep coming your way

You get raises in your paycheck, packages containing stuff on your wishlist end up at your apartment door, stuff that you typically considered a miracle

And you knew just who to thank for it all

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[sulphuryasecretcloset]

The lives of CT-113 and The Mandalorian, years before they met...

.

It's late and the Stormtroopers are celebrating, gathered over by where the flames are devouring a massive pile of anything flammable they could get their hands on. There won't be any complaints as the villagers of this small town are either dead or have fled with no intention of ever coming back after the carnage.

At a safe distance from the others, lying on his back in the once lush grass, wearing his helmet and keeping his blaster within reach, CT-113 stares up at the stars. He’s still hungry. The rations had been small tonight. Something he suspects the officers had tried to cover up by handing out alcohol and allowing the Troopers to have the evening off.

They went through some harsh fighting earlier today so most of them appreciate the gesture. CT-113 would have appreciated some food instead.

Lost in his own thoughts, continuing to ignore the sounds of the others, some of them laughing out loud, others crying bitterly over lost friends, CT-113 wonders what kind of luck has brought him here. Bad luck, his hungry stomach says. Good luck, his survival instinct says. He closes his eyes and tries to sleep. Tomorrow they will move on to their next target and odds of survival in a battle are higher if you are rested and aware.

“Hey.” A voice says, interrupting CT-113's much appreciated solitude and he slowly opens his eyes.

The culprit is a fellow Stormtrooper, no surprise as few others would dare to talk to someone in the dreaded white armour, but this one is not from CT-113's current squad. It's an unfamiliar man, rough-looking and scarred, eyes bright with the thrill of death, and the idiot gives a little wave with a half-empty bottle clutched in his hand. “You're not celebrating, CT-113?”

“No.” There is nothing to celebrate. Their victory today means nothing beyond living to fight another day and hope to survive that as well.

“Why not?” The moron asks. “We won! We're going to crush those filthy rabble scum and bring glory to the Empire!”

CT-113's blank stare is luckily hidden by his helmet. Great, the idiot is one of the fanatics; eager to die for an Empire that doesn't care whether he breathes or not. “I'm not a celebrating kind of guy.”

The Trooper laughs and looks at CT-113 with a touch of pity. “Too bad. You're missing out.”

Closing his eyes again, CT-113 doesn't bother with a reply and expects the guy to go away. He's got nothing more to say to this fool and wants his rest.

“My name is Aytray” The Trooper says, undeterred. “What's your name?”

“CT-113.”

“No, I meant-”

“I'm trying to take a nap.” CT-113 cuts him off, not interested in a single thing the guy has to say. His name doesn't matter. Their names never matter. CT-113 doesn't want to know. Just count down the days until payday. Stay alive. Hopefully they will have full breakfast rations tomorrow.

Huffing with offence, the Trooper stomps away and goes back to his noisy friends.

Good.

CT-113 sighs and wills himself asleep. He doesn't dream, not any more, not for a very long time, it's just darkness and nothingness, until an officer shouts for him to get up. It's time to move. New orders, new targets, but who knows what kind of luck they will bring.

Two days later, CT-113 sends his usual silent prayer of thanks to good luck for helping him survive another battle. This one had been particularly tough, fuelled by anger against them for what they'd done to the town they'd left in ruins. Even CT-113's armour has a dark streak across its white surface due to a well-aimed blaster shot despite him doing his very best to stay at the back of the fighting. A warning of incoming bad luck? Not good. CT-113 doesn't want to die, he really doesn't, especially not on an empty stomach. That would be adding insult to death, honestly. Besides, he soon has a full month paycheck to collect.

Walking across the battlefield riddled with craters caused by countless explosions, following the other Stormtroopers marching towards the transport ship, CT-113 comes to a halt when his HUD automatically identifies a dead Trooper lying face down on the muddy ground next to him. That guy. Well, he won't be celebrating anything ever again. CT-113 kneels down next to him and gently pries loose the ration-box from the guy's belt as he won't be needing it after today. This guy's bad luck means good luck for CT-113; extra provisions. Excellent.

Plus, payday is in two standard days. Hopefully. Last time the credits were two weeks late.

CT-113 attaches the box to his own belt then gets back up to continue towards the transport ship. At least he won't go to bed hungry tonight. And then, tomorrow there will be a new day and possibly a new battle.

Hopefully good luck will stick around a little while longer...

-

“Nice shooting.” Malk says, somewhere between grudging admiration and distaste.

“I did what I had to do.” Din replies in a cold voice. “Because they messed up their part of the mission.”

“Relax.” Qin laughs, unbothered by the blood across his face. “We got away, didn’t we? We got the loot and soon we’ll be swimming in credits.”

Xi’an is all over Din, giggling along with her brother. Increasingly annoyed, Din grits his teeth to hold on to his temper. He doesn’t feel like relaxing. Right now he mostly feel like shooting them as well. All that killing and he still wants more. Despite claiming he's doing this for the Covert, it's all for a bigger cause, something deep inside Din tells him he's not fooling anyone, including himself.

Din peels Xi'an off himself, viciously regretting the times he'd ended up with her legs around his waist because he was high on adrenaline and drenched in blood from whomever unfortunate enough to get in his way. “Once we get the credits, I'm leaving. I'm done.”

That surprises them.

“Don't be such a wuss.” Malk drawls. He points a thumb over his shoulder at his office. “In one hour, I have a meeting about another deal. This one will be big, Djarin. I'm telling you, you will want to be in on this one.” He smirks. “For the sake of your people, right?”

Din clenches his jaw. A part of him wants to say yes, it would guaranteed mean more killing, but whatever remains of his soul warns him to leave before it is too late. For once he decides to listen to his brain instead of his anger. “Just get me my share for this job.”

Stalking away, heading for the safety of the Razor Crest, Din can feel the disbelieving stare of Xi'an, the angry glare of Qin and the calculating look of Malk, but he doesn't care. They don't matter to him. Nothing matters except the Covert and he will slaughter the entire Galaxy for their benefit.

Inside the ship, doors locked and no one able to look inside, Din sits down in the cargo room and removes his helmet. He sees his reflection in the t-visor and barely recognizes himself. The anger fades into a dark and empty feeling. Lost, he feels lost. And tired. And alone...

Din leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. For some stupid reason, he is struck by a completely irrational urge to send a message to Paz. It doesn't really make sense as he hasn't talked to Paz in years, not since he showed up and tried to persuade him to come back home, but Din suspects the urge is learned childhood behaviour. A part of him obviously still believes that Paz would come save him like he always did when they were young.

But would it be possible for Paz to bring Din back up from the depths he'd sunk to? If Din begged him to come pull him out of this darkness, would it be too late?

It's been so long since he felt anything but anger and annoyance, Din can barely breathe under the weight of everything crushing down on him now. He actually puts down his helmet and presses a finger on his vambrace to start a message, his hand is trembling, but pauses as he realizes he has no idea what to write.

Din clenches his hand into a fist and leans back against the wall again. No. He had his chance when Paz asked him to come home and Din told him to leave and never come back. It's too late. He did this to himself. He can't be saved.

There is no future for Din Djarin. Only the Covert.

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