#rock type sweep baby lets fucking go

[jaypgartifacts]

made up another guy

[turntabless]

🔮 la folie - the stranglers 🔮

welcome back to turntable takes, folks!!! hope everyone’s doing wonderfully <3 this week (said so very loosely. i underestimated how hard it would be to do them every week but that’s on ME!) we have a gem <3 i know 2 songs off of it and they constantly occupy my mind! so! if you’re checking this out, thank you!! and hope you enjoy <3 once again i am very musically illiterate and don’t know theory!! this is me going AWOOGA!!!

also i’m not including the bonus tracks off the reissue because i’m TIRED. SLEEPY EVEN. but they’re also really good!

genres: new wave, punk rock, baroque pop

non stop

okay immediately loving the lil tippy tappy drums with a little echo that fade in! cute lil organ lick that is so fun!! i’m also a big fan of talk-singing when done in a sexy way and this is that! GUITAR crunchy echoing bass coming in. OH those drums fuck. this is just so fun!!! very sarcastic singing its scratching my brain!! and the guitars are so cheeky. layered vocals crescendo in volume cute like harmonies??? ooooo stripping it back then speeding up going louder again is such a choice i love it here. CHANGING TEMPO let’s go!!!

everybody loves you when you’re dead

ohhhhhh god i love the keys intro here. bass is sexy and so clear and i’m in love. the odd pitches with the guitar is so nice ! yummy drums!!! synthy business! punky talk vocals with layering going on is so good and these lyrics kinda make me feel insane. god that keyboard part and odd wavering synth in the background is so nice. harsh cymbal type sounds YUM! PICK IT UP LETS GOOOO cute lil tempo change and then right back to it!! ohhhhh slow little breakdown descending in pitch

tramp

OHHHH. flat guitar really interesting here. WITH BUZZING KEYBOARD AND BASS ????? drums are really!!! OOOOOH an instrumental soundscape baby!!! i love these vocals he’s got a great voice very punky and when he pitches up it’s really pretty??? also love the return to the darker sounds during the chorus? BASSSSSSS AH GOD !!!!! love the speed and the experimental nature of the chorus !!! 80s video game synth yummy. there’s something so dancy about this and god the vibrato and INSANELY nice drums????

let me introduce you to the family

OH FAST DRUMS LETS GO!!! ooooo this bass? is it bass? descending thing is so intriguing! faaaast guitar playing a really fun ear catching riff that’s like. this really is so experimental here. okay there’s some freddie m rasp at some parts which are really interesting and then the harmonies and layering of the vocals in the chorus are crazy! that bass is so consistent and so clear and great!!! ohhhh switch up that RIFF babes!!! it’s all very like buzzy fuzzy yum! ohhh TURN up the volume on the vocals add another lil keyboard thing this is sooooooo intricate!! ECHO on the voice for the fade-out ending with a drum beat to end everything!

ain’t nothin’ to it

ohhhhh that guitar is yummy. drums go hard in this beginning. BASS I HEAR YOU BABY YOU SHINE!! these vocals are so fun and sassy!! oh that odd lil dissonance in parts of this song is so cool??? and the lil changes in riffs and pitches sound really cool <3 ohhhhh BREAKDOWN lets gooooooo!!!! fuck it up instrumental section!!! BASS AND DRUMS ONLY OH LETS GO!!! this is really cool i’m obsessed. ohhhhh????? ohhhhhhhhhhhhh guitar little staccato notes??? this repeating instrumental part is so intriguing colour feel taste wise??? it’s so dark and a little unsettling with the occasional flatness but it’s nice????

the man they love to hate

BUZZY KEYS LETS GO !!! god. goddddd. that bass goes so hard. ohhhh crunchy soar on that guitar is so nice. drums going HARD. echoing lil keys are fun!! talk vocals as always are so fun !!! PITCH UP LETS GO !!! uplift meeee !!! back to the really punchy instrumentals on top of those buzzy keys that add such an interesting texture!! some little sweeping synthy kind of cymbal effect? ohhhhh. this is so fun !!! also the little whispered backing vox are fuuuuucking scrumptious! oh jesus it’s getting darker babes…… in tone in lyrics and then right back to light???? what in the world how is this this way. GUITAR FUCK IT UP cute lil solo! ohhhhh PLAYING WITH SHADE AGAIN THIS IS SO…… those lowest instrumental notes are so deep and fat and intriguing.

pin up

fucking insane drums i love you. ohhh??? xylophone-esque twinkly keys? GUITAR THERE YOU ARE BABY! sounds crunchy and thin but in such an atmospheric way! the “oooohhh”s are really nice with the bit of reverb on it??? this is such a fun little song? those twinkly xylophone sounds are back i love!!! the instruments are so so good at melding together so that those lil keys are picked out of the fold so well???

it only takes two to tango

ohhhhhhhh this is such a fun little intro… i don’t know what the name of this stylistic choice is but it’s like someone swinging you around with the drums bass guitar and then you get layered talk vocals with a BEAUTIFUL ascending like… quartet harmony going on. this is so fun!!! warbling keys again they’re so good at atmospheric sounds here. also sorry those harmonies are needed inside my bloodstream stat! OH KEY CHANGE! uh ohhhhh bestie the dissonance is back in the vocals but not in the instrumental i kinda love the effect??? faaaaaaat guitar just swingin around <3 OH the warbling is so interesting looking slightly more haunting as it progresses! LITTLE DRUMMER BOY GOING OFF WITH A FUN LIL HIGHER PLUCKED GUITAR RIFF? this is so….

golden brown

THIS IS MY BABY ONE OF MY FAVOURITE SONGS !!!!!! HARPSICHORD WHAT THE FUCK!!!! also with a bassy keyboard behind it! god his vocals in this are so buttery so yummy with just a hint of nasality? also god this fuckin time signature is all fucked the harpsichord is playing in a completely different time. bass and drums come into the fold so carefully subtly it’s beautiful. everything is just a little heavier but it’s still so light and mysterious and plain cool??? guitarrrrrrrrrrrr oh the reverby echo???? this solo always gets me !!!! ohhhhhh vocalisation that’s so echoey and sooooooo otherworldly is insane. the deepness and the layering of it is Fucked. this is truly such a soundscape AGAIN! chu bee fair idk how they’re so in sync when the times are so different.

how to find love and happiness in the present day

ohhhhhh this is different. screechy little synthy things going on to more spoken vocals with an insane lil bass trying going on? so sectioned with the vocals and instruments it’s really cool!!! the layering of the guitar pitches are so nice. AH TWANGY GUITAR mixed with some bongo vibes!!!! nah this is so fun!!! ohhhh these lil drum things sound like trickling raindrops. not sure what exactly they are but it adds such a cool effect. god that high frequency synth solo what the fuck !!!!! so insane so sick!!! ohhhh it fluctuates so nicely and smoothly between notes. descending vocal line with fuzz and partially covered by the instrumentals TO A FADEOUT

la folie

Oh This Is Grand. this intro is so beautiful???? what sounds like strings (made with keyboard) with a high smooth guitar part with echoey reverb and bass. OH ITS A SPOKEN PART IN FRENCH. beautiful. these words are so lonely and beautiful too and that’s conveyed so well with the effects placed on the voice itself? drums………. god this is so twin peaks right now !!!! DEEP SUNG VOCALS WHISPERING. back to spoken word with the bass getting a deeper sweeping moment??? oh beautiful deep staccato notes. there’s such a cool effect put on his voice this is….. really cool. the stringy synths really paint the background of this with colour. OHHHH high synthy parts joining the mix in a fun little flourish!!!! that bass…….. is so genuinely yummy holy goooood. spoken word so cinematic and lovely. the “la folie” being sung so deeply and whispery is so nice and comforting….. i love this. beauty guitar part at the end so soft so nice so echoey. drums holding down the fort so well UGH.

thoughts: okay. okay. i was genuinely surprised at how varied and genuinely INTERESTING this album was? like the tempo variations the key changes the instruments used the shifting parts the vocals and the USE of all of it to set tone? the tone itself was also so insane and has to be mentioned because there was so much interplay with shadow and light in each song?????????? incredible. i know talk-singing isn’t for everyone but i think it’s cinematic and cheeky and fun so i loved it. l o v e d. genuinely surprised at this guys!!!

[pointreyesjournal]

The Amnesiac : ep31

It's You Babe, A Blue Babe

There’s a new closeness between us as we ride north. River’s arms are wrapped around me tightly and she feels more like one of those plushy monkey backpacks that parents make their toddlers wear than a passenger. I feel the side of her helmet pushed firmly against the middle of my back between my shoulder blades. She’s clinging to me like a woman who has just fallen in love and she never wants to let me go. My torso tenses, subconsciously transmitting my masculine strength to reassure her that I’m a man worth following on this journey of life. As we ride I imagine making passionate love to her tonight, missionary position so I can gaze deeply into her eyes while our bodies are connected. I will cum inside of her tonight, unapologetically and quite deliberately. I imagine her holding me tightly against her body by the small of my back while I orgasm, the sweat from my brow dripping on her bare breasts. The birth control pill will prevent me from impregnating her tonight, but this will be a practice run for the type of lovemaking that will bear our children someday. We’re not going to have homely little doggy style babies. The kind of kids who will fail out of remedial english classes and smoke vape pens in the toilet. We’re going to have beautiful missionary position babies, who are conceived of love, and grow up to be intelligent and overachieving, like us.

My inner monologue about baby-making has given me an erection and I direct one of River’s hands down to my crotch to let her know that I’m thinking about her. She’s hip to my game and rather than stroking my cock obnoxiously while we ride, she simply dances her fingers along the shaft until she reaches the tip, then ever so gently makes little circular swirls right at the tip with her middle finger. It is subtle, yet intensely erotic.

I become rock hard and struggle to stay focused on the road as the coastal prairie gives way to a dense redwood forest. The road begins to sweep left to right, and our touring becomes more sporty and exhilarating. The road is twisty enough that River just wraps her arms around me and our little game of diddle the dong is suspended for the time being. Probably for the best because if she had kept at it, I was either going to make a mess in these jeans or crash into a tree … which would make an entirely different kind of mess in these jeans.

The road is gorgeous. It’s twisty and passes deeply through the redwood forest. The dark asphalt contrasts against the aged yellow center lines. Occasional patches of dampness in the road keeps our maximum speed to a reasonable (read non-lethal) level. The riding reminds me of our first ride together down the coast toward Big Sur. Just as I’m beginning to enter a mental flow-state, where the riding becomes like a video game on autopilot, I see something out of the corner of my eye that causes me to clamp on the brakes at full force. River’s body slams against mine and I struggle to keep a grip on the handlebars as the Ducati shutters to a complete stop right in the middle of the road.

I nearly collapse as my amnesia headache returns instantly and vengefully. I need to get the Ducati restarted and off of the road before we get rear-ended and killed. So I thumb the starter button, hastily find a gear and pull off of the road into the only parking lot we’ve seen in the twenty miles. River hops off of the motorcycle before I can get the kickstand down and she tears her helmet off.

“Dude what the fuck is that?!!!” she shouts at me in astonishment as I’m pulling my helmet off. 

“That my dear is a fifty foot tall statue of Paul Bunyan and Babe, his blue ox”

“Holy fuck Floody, he looks exactly like the sketch of me in the red flannel with the blue dog!”

I’m trying to respond to River verbally, but the amnesia headache is crippling and I take a knee. “Take my hand River! I need your energy” I cry. River rushes to my side. She tries to take my hand but we’re both wearing motorcycling gloves. I’m fading toward a loss of consciousness  from the pain as River tosses her gloves to the ground and begins violently tugging at the fingers of my gloves to get them off. The gloves fly off and she firmly takes my bare hand with her own. The light grenade behind my eyes explodes like the grand finale of a fireworks celebration and I begin to rise to my feet.

“Don’t let go River. Do. Not. Let. Go.”

“I’m here Floody. My energy is here for you.”

With our hands tightly clasped, standing in the parking lot of Trees of Mystery, I pull River to me. I run my free hand up the back of her neck into her sweaty hair, then with our eyes closed we share a deep tongue kiss. River’s energy quells the violent headache. With my eyes still closed I bury my face in her neck and begin to whisper into her ear the visions I’m seeing in my mind.

“I’m here in the parking lot. I see the giant statues. It’s Paul Bunyan and Babe. They’re watching over me. I see movement. It’s you! You’re here with me. You’re in the sweater and you’ve still got the camera. You come to me again, like our first encounter. It’s in passing. You’re saying something. You’re stepping backwards, away from me. You take a photo of me. Then we walk off together. That way, toward the building. You’re walking beside me.”

I open my eyes. With the memories extracted, I carefully end our embrace and let go of River’s hand. The headache is gone. I look around the parking lot, and indeed, the building I was seeing in my mind’s eye is there. I point to the building.

“River, we went that way together. That is our path. We must follow it.”

River is completely astonished by the clarity of my vision and also how closely the chalk drawings match our surroundings. We leave our helmets and jackets at the motorcycle and head toward the building hand-in-hand.

“I hope they have a bathroom.”

[wildernessuntothemselves]

How Do You Do

Word Count: 1.4k

Genre: smut

Summary: Chan is the thottie life guard at your beach that’s been trying to het into your pants since forever but hasn’t exactly earned it. 

“It’s the big event today.” Chan’s voice rings out from over the counter, and you get up from trying to look for a certain bottle of liquor to look at him. ”Will you cheer me on, babe?”

“Depends.” You smirk, pushing your arms against the counter, the action emphasizing your breasts in the bikini top you are wearing and drawing Chan’s attention to your cleavage.  “Only if you put on a good show for me.”

You know he will. He’s always trying to impress you. It’s kinda adorable. And despite his bravado, he blushes at your words and mumbles, “I always put on a show for you.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing!” He yelps, and thrusts a bottle of sunscreen in your hands. You look at him quizzically and he regains his cocky facade. “Help me put the sunscreen on. I don’t want to get sun burned while I’m rocking your world.”

You roll your eyes, “Alright, come back here, handsome.”

Chan obeys, dimples on full display. You stand behind him, squeezing some sunscreen on your hand before smearing it on his shoulder blades. Running your hands along his shoulders and down his bulging arms, you have to admit, the boy is ripped.

As if he can hear what you’re thinking, he says, “You’re focusing so much on my arms, baby. You like my muscles?”

“I do.” You don’t miss a beat, massaging said arms. “Hmm, what a big boy.”

You can’t see his face but you can see the way his ears turn red and you know you’ve successfully flustered him. Satisfied, you let your arms drop to his pecs where you “accidentally” brush your fingers over his nipples and get rewarded with the whimper he clearly tries to hold in. 

For good measure, you sweep over his nipples again, this time eliciting a weak moan from him, before your hands move to his lower abdomen, rubbing the cream in circles and feeling his abs clench under you. 

You know he’s getting turned on, and just for fun, you breathe against his ear as you swirl your fingers just over the waistband of his shorts. Chan shivers and tries to pull away. 

“Okay, t-thank you.” He stutters, moving away but you pull him back against your chest. “I haven’t done your legs yet, baby.” 

“That’s okay. I’ll do them myself.” He struggles to say, but you immediately shut him down. 

“Nonsense.” You say firmly, “Turn around, Channie.” 

He hesitates before obeying, a grimace on his face as he turns around, flustered and taking sneaky glances at you. You don’t even acknowledge the tent in his shorts. Instead, you squirt more sunscreen onto your palm and get on your knees. 

“W-what are you doing?!” Chan yelps, but you just wrap your hands around his calves and work the sunscreen into his skin, making your way up his legs silently, focused. By the time you reach his thighs, he’s panting and his dick is straining against his shorts, almost as if it’s trying to reach your mouth that was just in front of it. Slipping your hands just under the legs of his shorts, you look up at him. His breath hitches as he holds your gaze for a second before you break it and stand up. 

“There. All done.” 

Chan’s knees almost give way and he stares at you in shock. “But---”

“The competition is going to start soon.  Run along now, baby boy. You have some impressing to do.” 

You laugh to yourself as you watch Chan limp to the men’s room.

____________

And boy did he impress. He won all the competitions he participated in. 

Naturally, he was strutting towards you by the end of the day, confident and waiting for you to fawn over him. 

“Look, baby girl. I won.” He puffs his chest out, displaying his trophies for you. 

“You sure did.” You smirk, and he frowns at your lack of fawning. “Don’t I get a reward?”

"What about all those trophies?"

He pouts, setting them on the bar and coming around to you even though he wasn't allowed to do that. "I meant a reward from you."

You cock your head to the side and move close to him, pressing your body against his. “Yeah, like what?”

He pauses for a second, flushing at your closeness, before saying, “A kiss would be nice.” 

You laugh, brushing his hair back. “You’re cute.” 

Chan frowns. “I’m not cute. I’m sexy.” He complains, voice slurring. “When will you take me seriously?”

“Maybe when you stop ordering tons of drinks from me just so you’d have the chance to talk to me.” You say and he whines. “So you know I like you! Why are you playing so hard to get then?”

“Because baby,” You purr, brushing your nose against his. You push him against the counter and place your knee between his legs, pressing your thigh against his dick. “You don’t impress me the slightest bit. I eat boys like you for breakfast.” 

“What do I have to do?” He whimpers, using the chance to grind against your thigh. “I’ll do anything for you.” 

“I know you will.” You kiss along his jaw and down his neck, making him buck harder against your thigh. “I could suck you so good, you wouldn’t have anything else to give another woman. I could edge you so long you’d cum on command. I could fuck you so good, you won’t be able to get your pretty dick off without my pussy again.” 

You bite down on his neck, making him groan and throw his head back in ecstasy. 

“But I won’t. You wanna know why?”

He lets out a weak sad moan, shaking his head at your question and desperately waiting for you to explain. 

“Because you haven’t earned it.”

“How do I earn it?” He says right away, breathless and needy. 

“Prove that you’re more than just a pretty face and show me that you can handle what I have to give.” You explain, running your fingers around his nipple oh-so-slow. “Start by giving yourself a ruined orgasm. If you can handle doing that without trying to save it, then maybe I’ll touch you.” 

______________________

He tries. He tries so much but he always fails, jerking himself off just as he pushes himself over the edge, unable to take the pain that comes with cumming untouched. 

Weeks pass by, and you feel disappointed. You really thought Chan could do it. But maybe he figured it would be easier to get a girl that would let him fuck her without any ifs or buts, and he had no shortage of that. He’s gorgeous for fuck’s sake. So yeah, you’re disappointed. You shouldn’t have put so much faith in a fuckboy like him. 

But then he surprises you. 

You had just participated in a wet t-shirt contest, not really taking into consideration if Chan will watch you or not. You figured he had already given up on you. But he shows up, standing in the audience and never taking his eyes off of you, not even sparing a glance to the other girls. You can feel his gaze eat your body up as the water turns your white shirt transparent and makes it stick to your braless tits, highlighting your nipples that pebble in the cold and seem to be the focus of Chan's transfixation.

By the time you step off the stage, he had dissapeared from the audience. But you don't have to wait long to know where he went as you promptly receive a message from him. It’s a video of him in what you recognize to be the lifeguard changing rooms. You can see him wearing the navy blue swim shorts he was wearing this morning, and right in the middle is his outlined and very hard dick straining against the material. You see his veiny hands twist around the top of it, giving him stimulation that nearly pushes him over the edge as it is. But he stops before it gets anywhere. 

Placing his hands on either side of his shorts, he alternatively tugs on them, moving the material over his hard dick. "Ah hurts baby…” He cries out as if you could hear him, “So sensitive… ahh AHHH…" 

You rub your thighs together at the scene in front of you. Watching Chan squirm and try to not touch his dick is hotter than you ever imagined. 

"Am I doing good?” He breathes out wantonly, and you can see his dick twitching behind his shorts. “Is this making you wet baby? Please tell me this is making you wet because I'm going crazy. Need you to like this."

You do like it. You like it so much. 

“You looked so good up there. Wanted to push you down and cum all over your tits so everyone will know that you’re mine. Hated how they were all gawking at my girl…”

It doesn’t take Chan long to cum, he was already so riled up by watching the white shirt you were wearing do nothing to conceal your hard, perked nipples under it. He wanted to so bad to fuck your tits and cum on your face, but he knew he had to earn it. So that’s what he was doing, putting on a good show for you so you’d let him fuck you.

You see his dick twitch before the white cum seeps through his shorts, making a mess and making you wish he was there so you could jump on him and ride his dick until he cries from overstimulation. 

You know he’ll take it well too. He’s been waiting so long for it. 

Opening up the chat, you type in a message. 

“Stay where you are, pup.”

___________

[mha-adore]

General HCs: Students

Excluding Dekusquad and Bakusquad I have everyone else here, I hope you like it ☺

Tokoyami (+Dark Shadow)

* He's really trying to be a harbinger of truth and exposer of deciet. He's a dork. He's just trying to impress you.

* He's so stupidly into music and has like seven playlists he's made for you. Please listen to them he worked hard. He's really shy about his music tastes.

* Dark Shadow teases him relentlessly. You're walking near him? Tokoyami mysteriously trips into your open arms. You need help reaching something on a high shelf? Shadow birb got you covered. His only goal is to make you notice how flustered he is with you.

* He's insecure about being part avian. Most people aren't really attracted to birds, right? Honestly he could look like anything, it doesn't matter. He's a little angsty but kind hearted and pays close attention to you.

Jiro

* She's written like fifteen songs for you and you've heard none of them. They're top secret hidden in her locked diary. If you ask her very nicely and promise not to judge she'll play some for you.

* Expect a lot of punk and metal gifts from her. Her entire existence is punk and metal please lift her up. She is so shy about it.

* Totally the flustered gf. Borrows your clothes without asking and denies it only to approach you in front of everyone else and be like "oh hey here's your shirt back btw" and leave like it was nothing but she is screaming inside.

* Honestly just share a closet with her you two would trade clothes so often you'd need to stitch your names into the tags to keep track. Share the same perfume/cologne too while you're at it. Did you use the same fragrance or did you snuggle together for an hour? No one else knows.

Momo

* She knows other people are after her either for her physique, her family wealth or both and as such, is distrustful at first. She doesn't want to fall for someone only to learn they're using her. Give her space to get comfortable with who you are.

* That said when she knows it's genuine feelings she spoils you rotten. Designer clothes, expensive jewelry, a custom hero costume etc. Her wallet is yours for the taking. Please don't fuck her over.

* Because her family is well known both as elites and heroes she has a reputation to keep up. She insists that you go with her dressed well and looking great so she can show you off with style.

* She is actually very soft hearted and needs some soft love sometimes. Just sit with her under a blanket she made and watch a romcom. Don't judge her for binge eating, she needs to eat well to support her quirk. If anyone makes fun of her kick their ass into the stratosphere.

Aoyama

* He simply will not stop sparkling and neither shall you. He shares his skin care, hair care and multi vitamins with you. You're both glowing, literally.

* He can be spontaneous and over the top in everything he does. He likes to show off and catch stares. He wants to catch your stare. If you gaze longingly at him he'll act suave while squealing with glee inside.

* He spends his money frivolously. He buys expensive care products, jewelry, clothes, stuffed animals...Did I mention it's all for you? He's penniless for you and doesn't mind that at all.

* He craves your attention so much. Spend some time alone with him and just look at him. In public keep your eyes locked on him. His ego will go through the roof, in the best way.

Monoma

* He is so fucking full of himself. Until you're around. He's usually narcissistic and up his own ass but when you walk by he's suddenly humble, kind and friendly. It's just him wanting you to see his good side.

* Sweet hearted asshole wants to feel loved. Just be kind to him. Help him with his homework. Spend free time with him. Help him show up 1-A. He'll love it.

* Totally uses you as a reason 1-B is better than 1-A. "Sure you guys fought villains and all but you don't have anyone even vaguely as attractive as my beloved!" Just let him have his fun in the sun.

* His hero costume is over the top for a reason. He wants to be the prince to sweep you off your feet, kiss you and ride off on a horse. He has the attire covered. Next, your love.

Hitoshi

* Above anything please just be accepting of his quirk. Don't ask him to use it for anything unnecessary or say anything bad about it. He's been ridiculed his entire life for his "villainous quirk", please be kind.

* Nap with him dammit. He's sleeping deprived because he pours all day and night into becoming good enough for 1-A. He wants to be a real hero and he values that over sleep. Cuddle with him at night and he'll sleep like a happy rock.

* You must love cats, end of discussion. His backpack is cat shaped, his phone case is a cat, his spirit animal is a cat, he may as well be a cat. He'd be over the moon if you compares him to a Maine Coon.

* When he does get into 1-A please be happy for him. He worked so hard for it, show your support. Even if you're in different classes you can see each other during lunchbreaks and after school.

Mirio

* He is sunshine. He is warmth. He adopts introverts. It's our man. His hugs are like butterfly kisses if they could crush you.

* He's the type to be really into you and still treat you like a friend. He can't get with someone unless he knows them very well beforehand.

* Though he's friendly and out reaching to others he's still a private person who shares little about his personal life. He needs to learn about you first. Being open yourself will encourage him to start chatting about himself.

* He loves romantic songs. He isn't one for Spotify, playlists or the such but if he hears a song that makes him think of you he's texting you the link immediately. He gets so caught up texting you that he stops listening to others and is in his own little world.

Tamaki

* He is just....So shy. So baby. He really wants to be a strong hero and save the people he loves but he is so shy. Don't pressure him into anything, he just needs someone who will let him be himself.

* That said, he has no experience in love. He's had crushes over the years but nothing meaningful enough to mention. Until you came along and took his heart for a stroll. Now you're all he thinks about. Is your hand warm? Do you like to kiss cheeks? What's your favorite flavor Pop Tart?

* When he manages to confess to you (not if, when) it'll be something cheesy but sweet. Like on Valentine's Day he'll leave a heartfelt card on your desk with his signature and a flower. He's a simple man.

* His feelings are so sensitive please never yell at him, not even out of excitement. He's scared of upsetting the people he cares about and wouldn't dream of upsetting you, his little mochi ice cream. Yes all his pet names for you are based on food.

Nejire

* She's the personification of a flower crown. With thorns. Very soft, sweet and pleasing to the eyes but very capable of defending herself. She is not a sex object and beats the ass of anyone who says so about herself or you.

* I personally headcanon her as asexual but that's my idea on it. You can see it however you like. Either way she's very romantic and loves cute gestures like 3 foot tall teddy bears and hand sewn clothes.

* Imagine this: at the beauty pageant, she wears a dress you sewed for her yourself and, alongside her natural beauty and talent, wins the pageant. She would have just been proud to show everyone your skills but she won wearing that dress, you can bet she's telling everyone you made it.

* She treats Eri like a daughter and hopes you'll do the same with her. Call it a little childish but she loves the idea of playing house with you. Married in a little happy home caring for Eri together.

I think that's everyone I need to add for now. If you want to see someone else in this let me know! My next two posts will be this same format for pros and villains. If you have any headcanons to share or a request my inbox is open

[harrywritingsbyme]

Getting It In

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: Something short, sweet, and spicy with a sucky ending for ya! Enjoy🙃

Ever since quarantine began in March, you and Harry were constantly trying to get it in. Before the Styles family was confined to the house, the kids would be in school all day which meant that you and Harry had the entire house to yourselves. Furthermore, when you two weren’t insanely busy throughout the day, you and Harry were able to soak up every ounce of each other in any position and in any part of the house until 2:30 pm. But per usual, some good things must come to an end. Now neither of you were complaining about the family time with the little ones. You two loved your bubs to pieces and it was so great to be at home and spend quality time together as a family. It’s just that 24 hours, 7 days a week, for 7 months was a really long time. During the day when either Harry or yourself (mainly Harry of course) wanted to engage in one of you guys’ coveted sexscapades, there was a process involved. It couldn’t be at the drop of a dime when either of you were feeling frisky, there was a checklist in both of your minds that had to be completed before anything happened.

For starters, you and Harry had to find a way to preoccupy the two 5 year olds that were in your care. Since they were at home and you two were not only parents but now teachers as well, you and Harry were tasked with staying on top of their education and finding activities that could keep the twins preoccupied for a short amount of time. Once that was taken care of, you and Harry had to then sneak off to a part of they house that was secluded yet still in reach just in case there was an emergency. After that, the two of you had to rip off and undo each other’s clothes off in a quick and quiet manner. Luckily, the two of you had taken up sweats and T-shirts as your normal everyday attire, so it was pretty easy to get everything off and get down to business. And even though you two were enjoying every second of being together because those moments were few and far between at times, you and Harry  were doing your best to be alert and ready to spring into action for the kids that were just around the corner.

In the beginning of quarantine, and all the way up until about June, you and Harry were practically glued to the two children. They were in their first year of school and needed the utmost attention at all times. And for the most part, the twins were never alone; there was always at least one of you with them to help out. The only times you two had the opportunity(if you could even call it that) to get some time alone in was during the block of time you guys let them watch tv, when they were playing with their toys or coloring, and when they took their naps. The prime times of early in the morning along with the time after they were put to bed was out of the question considering the fact that you both were exhausted after running around the house taking care of it and the small children that were running around in it. Once you and Harry hit the bed, it was lights out. And they stayed out until your alarms blared so that the two of you could get the kids up and get the day started.

Now from June to August, things were a bit better when it came to yours and Harry’s sex life. Even though the kids were on summer vacation and you two were completely in charge of their daily activities, you were able to give them more time to spend doing fun things that needed less supervision. You two were still actively spending time with them for the majority of the day but you still made sure to have activities in place just in case you and Harry were in the mood. Neither of you were complete fans of plopping them down in front of the television, but when you two were itching for some type of contact you and Harry did what you had to do. There were also little projects for them to do that would occupy their time and allow for you guys to sneak away. You and Harry even went as far as to tire them out early so that by midday they’d be ready for a nap and you two could hop into bed yourselves. And when you both still had a sliver energy left once the little ones were put to bed, you and Harry would wind the rest of the way down in each other. That is, if there weren’t two little bodies crammed between the two of you. Overall, the summer went pretty well for you and Harry in terms of getting it in. Cravings were satisfied and family memories were made.

Fast forward to now and things were still on this steady terrain. The new school year has begun and the twins were now in first grade which meant that you and Harry can step back a little bit and do other things. And other things meant each other. After getting the two children put together and seated in front of their computers that were in a room right off from the living room, you and Harry clean up the kitchen from breakfast before getting yourselves together one at a time just in case the kids needed a little help. Once you were done taking care of/getting a start on some chores around the house along with getting a little head start on lunch and Harry was done with a meeting he had over zoom, the both of you were in need of a little mommy and daddy time. The only thing you two had in the past week that was remotely close to that was a quick makeout session in the kitchen last night while the twins washed their hands before dinner. When the two of you meet in the kitchen, it’s like your minds are instantly synched and you both are on the exact same page. Harry wastes zero time coming over and sweeping you up off your feet and onto the counter behind you. He also wastes no time bringing his mouth to yours in a hurried manner. Your hands immediately gravitate to the sides of his face to pull him down closer to you, and his gravitate down to your hips so that he could tug you closer to the edge, bringing him further between your legs.

“Need you so bad baby.” Harry mumbles against your lips as he begins to bring them down to your neck. 

“But what if they hear us?” You ask him through your soft moans. Despite wanting him more than ever right now, you were terrified at the thought of your children walking in on their parents. The last thing you wanted was to scar them for life. 

“C’mon babe, they have their headphones on they won't hear me pounding into you.” He reassures through his kisses to your neck. “Plus i made sure i got the noise cancelling headphones for them." He continues, wanting to make sure you know that everything’s fine. 

“Alright, but we have to be quick and quiet.” You oblige, giving in and letting Harry take the lead in making you both feel good. 

Keeping you on the counter in front of him, Harry hooks his fingers into the waistband of your sweats to pull them down from your waist. You urgently lift your hips up from the counter so that he could pull them off.  Since the two of you were in a bit of a crunch, Harry doesn’t even bother pulling your shirt off and he goes right into shoving his own pants down his legs. He keeps his underwear and sweats pooled at his ankles just in case. Once you both are both undressed from the waist down, Harry hooks his fore finger into the bottom of your panties and pulls them to the side to expose your pussy. From where he was standing above you, he could see your glistening folds perfectly and he was even more in need of getting inside of you. Before he actually pushes in, he pulls himself back a bit before bending down and licking a wide stripe up your folds to collect some of your juices on his tongue. He then sucks on your clit a little and comes back up to push into you.

“Ready baby?”Harry asks softly to you, bringing his other hand down to tug at his stiff cock a bit. 

“Please Harry!” You huff impatiently, needing him to push into you. Prompted by your urgent response, Harry moves in closer to you, lining his cock up with your damp entrance and beginning to push into your cunt. “Oh my- fuck” You breathe out, feeling his cock stretching your walls to fit his cock inside.

“So fucking tight” Harry grunts lowly, feeling himself being engulfed by your warmth. After about a week of not being inside you, this was absolute heaven. After continuing to push his cock as deep into you as possible, Harry gives you about a second or two to adjust before he’s quickly moving his hips back and forth into you. The way he rocked his hips into you was unmatched. He continuously pushed his cock into you again and again as you tired to keep your moans at bay. You were digging your nails into Harry’s wrist and biting into your lower lip as you took him all the way inside. You weren’t the only one who was fully immersed in the pleasure while trying their hardest not to moan out loud, Harry too was struggling. He could almost guarantee that your walls were lined in the softest and smoothest velvet. Nothing could top the feeling of your walls against his cock. You were squeezing him and whining about how good it felt while he did the same above you. 

As he continued to pound into you, Harry could feel his release bubbling up inside of him. He was beginning to feel tingles all over his body and he could feel a warm tightening sensation in the pit of his stomach. To pull you closer to the edge with him, Harry extends his thumb out to circle it around the sensitive bundle of nerves. When he does this, you feel the sensations traveling through your body and you can feel your release nearing. When you begin to lift your hips a bit up into his thrusts along with clenching around him, Harry begins to go harder. He wanted to pound you both into your releases. And that he did. With only a few hard thrusts, Harry sends you both into the downward spiral of your releases. You both were shaking a little as you held back your moans as you two let go. Your walls were contacting heavily around Harry’s cock as you came and Harry was gushing into you as he let go. After riding the tidal waves of your releases, Harry lets go of your panties and lowers himself down onto your body that was lying on the counter, bringing his mouth down to smear a kiss onto yours. You don’t even hold back, you were a bit loopy from what just happened that you just went for it. Your lips and tongue languidly moved against his as the two of you continued to “cool down” after your releases. But as if it was right on time, you both hear a small voice calling out to your both for some assistance.

“At least we got a good round in.” Harry hums optimistically against your lips, giving you one last peck before lifting himself back up. 

“Yeah, hopefully we can do it again sometime.” You joke, not even bothering to try and lift yourself up. 

“Hopefully.” Harry whispers back with a smile as he slowly pulls his cock from you. “Now I’ll be right back to clean you up, alright?” Harry asks, bending down to pull his underwear and sweats back up.

“Mhm.” You reply simply.  

“I love you.” Harry whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Love you too.” You smile, continuing to lay back against the counter, hoping that you’d regain enough feeling to have yourself back to normal once Harry comes back. 

Even though you and Harry were always horny and looked for ways to sneak away from your kids, neither of you could get enough of being together as a family 24/7.

Masterlist

[hnderyx]

Uh may i request YangYang and thigh riding n pet play?

Kitten - Yangyang (Smut)

Yangyang x fem!reader

Includes: thigh riding, pet play, oral on both male and female, typical smut things y'know. Nothing scary.

Please don't read if you're under 18! 🚫 I'm not tryna get sued.

I hope this is alright for you, anon. I tried my best & it's my first smut I've ever posted! Please enjoy.

Yangyang had invited you over for some time together. What you had expected and what you were currently doing were two totally different things.

Sitting and watching your boyfriend game with the other NCT members was not something you really wanted to do on a Friday night. Yet here you were, scrolling through Tumblr and reading smuts about the man in front of you, in hopes that it’d soothe your feeling of neglect. Of course, it only added to the want to have your lover between your legs. The dull ache was proving to be quite the annoyance.

“Yangyang, did you really invite me over just to have me watch you play Overwatch? I thought we were going to cuddle and watch Netflix or something.” His eyes continued to be glued to the screen. You could hear the muffled voices of his group members from the headphones over his ears. “Yangyang..?” You kicked the arm rest of his computer chair. He glanced at you momentarily before muting his mic and removing one of the cups over his ear.

“You alright, y/n?”

“I’d be more alright if you’d pay attention to me. I’ve been here for two hours and you’ve had your eyes focused on your monitor for the whole time. I even brought a gift for you, baby~”

“Just let me do a few more games, y/n. I need to get to Master rank. I’m so close, please.” He turned back to the game and put his headphone cup back over his ear again before clicking the back of it, unmuting the microphone. A sigh fell from your lips as you got off his bed, nearly fuming.

You were going to get the attention you craved, and you’d use your gift to him to do it, too.

Shuffling through the backpack you had placed next to his bed hours before, you pulled out the gift you had mentioned to Yangyang moments before.

-

After changing and admiring yourself in the dorm’s bathroom mirror, you snuck back into Yangyang’s room carefully to not have any of the other sets of eyeballs lay on you that may be around the dorm.

When you find yourself back in your boyfriend’s room, you make your way to his bed. The springs squeak as you get on all four. You make your way to the middle of the bed and sit on your heels, pressing your breasts together as you call Yangyang’s name. His eyes go from his monitor, to you. His eyes explore your body. From the white fluffy cat ears sat upon your head, down to the lace collar tied around your neck with a golden bell, and finally down to the pastel purple lace lingerie. He gulps and turns his attention back to the monitor, covering his mic before he speaks,

“You know if you just give me half an hour I’ll be finished here, right? Just half an hour...”

“You know that I can’t wait that long, Master. I need you now. Right now.” You mewled.

A moment of silence passes in the room, the only sound being the clicking of Yangyang’s mechanical keyboard as he manoeuvres his character to complete the objective.

“Alright, Kitten. If you’re this needy, then come ride my thigh as I finish this round. After this, I’ll be all yours. I promise” he says as he pushes himself away from his desk, holding his arms open. You nod and find your way to his lap, positioning yourself upon his thigh. You begin your gentle motions, rocking your hips. Soft sighs of contempt fall past your lips, the feeling of some type of stimulation lighting up your senses.

“Yangyang hyung, what’s that jingling noise?” Jisung’s voice echoes out of his headset and he halts. You smirk to him as you continue your movements against his thigh.

“It’s just.. The cats! Yeah, we got the cats new collars the other day and they have a bell on them! Louis is all over me right now. He’s so fucking needy for attention..”

The chat goes silent before Lucas speaks up.

“We never got the cats new collars. What are you even talking about, Yang?”

“Yes we did, you moron. We got them off Amazon. You just haven’t seen them yet” Ten’s voice booms through the headphones.

Ah, so someone did catch on.

As soon as the winning banner flashes across the screen, Yangyang exits the game and the Discord call. He takes off his headphones, setting them on his desk before grabbing your ass and guiding your hips at a better pace.

“Look at you, Kitten... You’re so desperate for Master aren’t you? You couldn’t even wait a bit for him to finish his game properly.” He growled, landing a firm smack to your ass. You let out a soft moan.

“I couldn’t wait.. I was reading naughty stories about Master and it got me excited for him..” You rested your head against his shoulder, face flush from embarrassment. “I was fantasizing about him and I feeling good together...”

“Hm, tell me what you read, Kitten. Tell me what you thought about” You sat upright, looking into his chocolate brown eyes. He reached up and played with the golden bell that hung off your collar, scanning your facial features. “Well, go on. Tell Master.”

“I read something about having sex with you while the members were home... they could hear how good you made me feel.” He hummed and gently grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, guiding his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. He forced his tongue into your mouth, licking along your tongue. He tasted like mint. His spit was sweet, his tongue warm. Coupled with the movements of your hips against his thigh, you felt the dull burning feeling blossom in your lower stomach. Your mind grew to only focus on that feeling getting stronger and stronger. The kiss grew hungrier, sounds of wet kisses echoing throughout the room. Eventually, your orgasm snapped and you moaned into Yangyang’s lips as you came undone, clenching around nothing. He helped ride you through your orgasm, rocking your hips against his thigh gently.

He pulled back and lifted you by your thighs, plopping you down onto his bed. The springs groaned as he placed himself between your legs, supporting himself by placing his hands on either side of your head. Locking his lips yours again, he softly ground his hips down against your core. A moan erupted from your lips, but it was muffled as his tongue found its way around your mouth. Slipping his right hand down to your thigh, he gives it a squeeze before looping his index finger around the waistband of your panties. You lift your ass off the bed as he pulls them down your legs, leaving your core exposed to him.

“We’re leaving that on.. It looks beautiful.” He points to the bra that accentuated your breasts before leaning down and kissing along the ridge of one of the cups. He carefully moves the padded material aside and takes your nipple into his mouth, sweeping his velvety tongue over the erect nub, sending shivers down your spine. He nibbled your nipple softly before pulling back with a lewd ‘pop’. The way his eyes seemed to explore your hot and bothered form reduced you to jelly.

Yangyang lifted his hoodie over his head, exposing his lean but nicely built body. A small grin made its way to his mouth as he rubbed the outline of his dick through his skinny jeans.

“Don’t you think you should pay Master back for distracting him from his game? You made him disrespect his members, Kitten..” He unbuckled his belt and pushed his jeans, along with his boxers, down his legs. He took his length into his hands, pumping it a few times.

“Take Master’s dick down your throat, Kitten.” You positioned yourself, your head dangling off the edge of the bed as he aligned the tip of his dick with your mouth. “Tap my thigh three times if it’s too much. I’ll stop immediately, alright?” You nodded, mumbling a soft ‘yes’.

He pushed his dick into your mouth, slowly. You gagged as he pushed himself in to the hilt, before pulling back and repeating the movement. He started to pick up speed, your attempts at moans only urging him to fuck your mouth faster. Thick spit from the back of your throat coated his length and made its way to your lips, some dripping down your cheeks. Your hand snaked down your body and made its way to your clit, rubbing gentle circles into it. Every thrust that he did into your mouth and every gag you produced just aroused you further, the lewd sounds filled the room.

Yangyang’s thrusts became faster, more inconsistent. You knew he was getting close, and you were preparing yourself to take everything that his dick offered you until he pulled out of your mouth. Chest heaving, you looked up at him with hooded eyes.

“I don’t want to finish yet. Get on the bed properly and spread your legs for me, Kitten” You did as you were told as he positioned himself between your legs, face centimetres away from your heat. He moved his hips, grinding into the bed as he spread you open for him. He licked a stripe up your heat before returning his tongue to your entrance and tracing a circle around it, he let out of a soft groan. It wasn’t new to you that your taste sent Yangyang’s taste buds to heaven. He busied himself with his face buried into your pussy, switching between quick licks at your clit with his fingers stimulating your g-spot and tongue fucking you as his fingers swiped over your clit. Loud and desperate moans left your mouth as you knotted your fingers into his hair. He knew your body like the back of his hand, and it was painfully obvious. Looking down at the erotic sight of him pleasuring you, you felt that familiar dull feeling building in your lower stomach and tightened your grip on his midnight locks.

“Master, I’m gonna cum.. Please make me cum.” You whispered, his eyes flicked to meet yours as his tongue slipped out of your heat.

“Cum for me, pretty Kitty” he purred before slipping his long digits into you again, massaging your sensitive walls. His mouth pressed itself around your clit, tongue licking painfully pleasurable circles around your bundle of nerves. Throwing your head back, you let out a nearly painfully loud moan, your contractions squeezing his fingers in a pattern that Yangyang adored feeling. He helped you through your orgasm, manoeuvring his fingers in and out of your heat.

“What a good girl... Cumming hard on Master’s fingers. You’re absolutely precious.” He removed the fingers that were coated in your juices and brought them up to his lips, licking the fluids off of them. Colour found its way to your cheeks. As much as you’ve seen this sight, it still renders you a blushing mess. “Now, it’s time to breed my Kitten, isn’t it? She wants me to cum in her tight pussy, doesn’t she?” You nodded, too embarrassed to say anything.

He lined himself up with your soaking entrance, pressing a kiss onto your lips as he pushed himself into you. A pathetic moan fell from your lips, only to be eaten up by his mouth A few moments passed as he slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting yours in a kiss that made both your bodies yearn for more. He began to rock his hips against yours, biting onto your lip. You both groan into each other’s mouths as the pleasure sparks through your bodies. The pace of Yangyang’s movements start out slow. His speed picks up as you let out soft meows in place of moans. His hips begin to snap against yours at a rough, erratic pace. Yangyang pulls back from your lips and grabs your legs, placing them over his shoulders to reach places inside you that has your vision hazy. His name flies out of your mouth repeatedly, in a near scream.

His eyes seem to devour your form in front of him. The way your bra pushes your breasts together, the way your face twists in pleasure with every thrust, how your plush lips move whenever you moan his name, all the way down to how nice your beautiful pussy takes his dick. You were truly beautiful. As his thrusts continued, he felt his orgasm building up.

He moulded his lips against yours before mumbling against them, “Master’s going to cum, Kitten. He’s going to fill you up so nicely..”

“P-Please, cum inside me, Master. I need it...” You whisper, reaching for Yangyang’s hand. He threaded his fingers with yours, giving your palm a soft squeeze. His thrusts become messy and uneven as he moans your name, hips thrusting shallowly against yours as he empties himself into you. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his muscles tensing and releasing. Gentle ‘I love you’s are exchanged as he pulls himself out of you. You gasp as you feel his seed run out of you and onto his bedsheets. It’s pleasurably warm and sends goosebumps all over your body. He reaches for his discarded t-shirt and cleans you up, before handing you an oversized sweater and a pair of basketball shorts from his wardrobe. You unclip your bra and remove the cat ears, placing them in your bag before slipping into the clothing that Yangyang had handed you. He slips on his jeans again, buckling his belt. “You thirsty?” He ask as he grabs a shirt from his wardrobe, pulling it on.

“Yeah, just a little..” You reach for his hand as he guides you out of his room and into the shared kitchen of the dorm. Eyes from the living room and some sitting around the dining table all look at you two, before someone speaks up.

“I didn’t know we had three cats” Ten chuckles, taking a sip of his Americano. Both Yangyang and your faces light a deep shade of red. “You may want to take that off, by the way, y/n..” he motions to something around his neck, It finally clicks to you and your hands fly up around your neck to feel the lace collar still decorating it. You quickly untie it before shoving it into the kangaroo pouch of your hoodie.

“We have three cats? Since when?” Asks Lucas, oblivious to what the sentence really meant.

[heresathreebee]

Brackish And Briny Waters (three)

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

Summary: Spend the weekend painting the house with your husband. Previous Masterlist Next

Tags: 17+ | 1.6k words | Painting a house together, aka domestic stuff, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, pulling out, vague mention of rats.

AN: part 4 is gonna get angsty I just finished it

Anything involving greens was a heavy battle between you two, as Ralph seemed to have some kind of vendetta against them. The more blue you got, the less you fought and you eventually settled on a cool tone to use for the laundry room with a compromise to paint floral accents in a forest green tone along the edges of the back wall. You did find an exact replica of one of the original wallpapers in your second bedroom which you wanted to move to the living room. 

Colors selected and purchased, you went home starving and managed to scrape together some left overs with a side of rice to fuel you to start on the real work. You also bought brown paper to cover the solar room window holes until you can finish that room as its own project. 

Ralph rolls up his sleeves and puts on his bleach stained lounge pants to help. You lay down tarp and use up 3 rolls of tape to cover the kitchen and the dining room. Every window and door is wide open as you set your record player to play some 'whistle while you work' type of albums. And whistle he does that husband of yours, enjoying your company and shaking his hips dramatically to make you laugh. You two haven't had this much fun in so long it feels like. 

The summer citrus color you chose for the kitchen was really working for you. Ralph intended to put the wallpaper up in the other room to get 'double the work done' but still you find him working the same wall just to be close to you. You talk about missing that classic NYC pizza and dinner tomorrow and Ralph promises to ask his colleagues about any music shops in the area. 

You take a nap on the porch swing to get away from the paint fumes, an iced tea almost slipping from your hand. When dinner time comes, you cook while he details the removal of the old wallpaper from the dining room to work tomorrow. He's rambling about using a third coat on the living room paint and you don't think it's necessary but you know he'll agree with you come morning. 

"Come eat Ralph Vincent," you scold him for getting paint on the door frame but all is forgiven when he sweeps you into a hungry kiss. 

"I'd rather eat you right now." 

Ralph's flirtations are interrupted by his own ractious growling stomach and you laugh at him as you shove a plate into his hand. You eat together by the window in the living room. While it hasn't been painted yet, you have moved the furniture to the middle of the room and the fumes from the kitchen and dining room are still very strong. You hope it doesn't affect your sleep tonight (or hope it puts you down like a dose of melatonin). 

"Floyd's got a boat," Ralph tells you. "Says he takes it out on the water almost every day. Asked if I wanted to join him." 

"And are you?" You spin another forkful of angel hair spaghetti on your plate. 

Ralph slurps his like a child. "Am I what." 

"Are you going to join him on his boat?" You speak slowly and patronizingly. Ralph pinches your breast and almost makes you drop your plate. "No. I hate boats. I hate water. I don't want to be trapped for hours out there listening to him talk about paintings and philosophers, at least at work I can walk away." 

You chuckle. "I think Floyd sounds very interesting. What do you have against him?" 

"Nothing," he protests, "he talks too much. He's loquacious– that's what Justine calls him, and she's one to talk. If you must know, he's actually my favorite– he knows when to keep his nose out of my business." 

Dishes are made slightly more difficult with Ralph hanging off your shoulders. He peppers kisses up and down your neck, even finds a hickey from the morning that's started to fade and he remarks you. You dig your dripping fingers into his hair when he finds that spot on your neck and gives it some much needed attention. 

"Ralphie, baby, please," you whisper, "I could use your help with these." 

Dishes are done in record time and suddenly you're being whisked away to your bedroom (not that you were complaining). This room has the wallpaper that you had no intention to change aside from a fresh upgrade. Ralph takes your hand to spin you around and back you into your shared room all the way to the edge of the bed. Along the way he plants kisses from your hairline to your collarbone before he lets you fall atop the thick quilted bedspread. 

He gazes at you with a warm expression. The soft "my girl" he whisperes makes your heart swell. 

You expect him to pick up your legs and pull you by your knees to the outside of his hips (want him to even), but Ralph has other ideas it seems. It's not until his head is between your legs that you realize what he's up to (or rather down to). You gasp a lung full of air and grab him by the hair of his head. 

"Jesus," you sigh. 

Your husband's rumbling laughter causes your thighs to twitch. "Say my name, I'm the one doing all the work." 

"Yeah but you love– aha!" His beard brushes your inner thighs and leaves a delightful burning sensation in the deepest part of your soul. "Fuck…" 

You pull his hair harder and feel the soft locks stretch in your bloodless grasp. You can feel that immortal coil wind tighter and tighter inside you as Ralph devours you. You start chanting his name, the pitch of your voice beginning to crescendo the closer you get to that fire cracker ending. Ralph doubles his efforts, eager to have you fall apart on his tongue and fingers. 

He's more than making it up to you tonight. 

When you come, your body curls in on itself and your thighs lock around his head, effectively deafening him. You have no idea if he can hear the scream that rips from your body but you can't either as your eyes rolls back in ecstasy. 

You relax onto the bed and feel it dip with an additional weight to your side. You slide into Ralph's easy embrace, his dry hand coming up to hold you to him and just rest for a bit. 

"Fuck," you say huskily, "you're really good at that…" 

Ralph kisses you in answer, trying to deepen the connection but you have to twist away to catch your breath. Instead he plants lingering, sweet kisses on your neck, your cheek, your hair. His hand caresses your back in circles until you're nearly asleep from the motion. 

You flinch when you feel his nose brush against yours. "Baby… don't fall asleep." He sounds so sweet until his voice darkens and he says, "I'm not done with you yet." 

You lose track of time and all you can feel is Ralph Lamont. You're both covered in a sheen of sweat and his hips rock leisurely into yours. You don't know who grabbed who but your hands are tangled together and refuse to let go. Ralph's breath dusts over your neck, cool in contrast to the fire of his physical form pressed against you. You want to come again but you let him draw it out, let him love you tonight. 

"Ralph." You whisper in his ear, begging with no pressure to change pace. You're happy if he's happy and he is very content to keep thrusting into you to his peak and slow down, never stopping but always making you want more. Your man kisses you flush on the mouth and adjusts his position. His thrusts change. They grow from hypotonic and shallow to a little hard and more purposeful. You moan at the feeling, your legs locking around his hips to draw him deeper despite your exhaustion. 

Your orgasm washes over you nice and gentle, nothing like the force of the first time. You're conscious enough to lock your ankles around Ralph's hips, but it still doesn't prevent him from slipping his flushed and reddened cock out and finishing on your stomach as he always intended. You feel a strange tickle of disappointment as you come down from your high but push it to the back of your mind for later. 

Some way, somehow, Ralph still has enough strength to clean you both up and tuck you into bed. He curls around your body despite the near unbearable heat and falls fast asleep, his soft snores right behind your ear lulling you under the tide of sleep. 

DAY FOUR

"Morning." 

Your Saturday is awash of more painting and moving furniture with Ralph. He made coffee and eggs and brought it to you in bed, then dragged you down to look at the frayed wires on the clothes dryer machine. 

"Might be rodents," you muse. "I'll get some traps on Monday and find my soldering iron." 

"We'll get traps tonight," your husband countered, scratching his chin, "the sooner the better." 

You finish removing the old wallpaper in the living room and carefully put up the new one with little fuss. The kitchen still smells of paint but it's dry (it had better be, you left the windows open all night and it's freezing in here) so you put the kitchen utensils and appliances back and remove the protective tape and brown paper. Ralph is proud of the precision work done in the corners and edges, patting himself on the back and yours. 

"We did good babe," he said, "by this time next week, we'll have the whole house done!" 

You laugh at his optimism. There were still cobwebs to dust, cracks to spackle, floors to polish, windows to replace. This was the very reason he picked this place… 

To keep you busy. To keep your mind from wandering to those dark places that linger in your past. 

At least it was working.

Tagging people who might like to know: @werwulfy @hoodoo12 @escape-your-grape @go-commander-kim @fundamentally-lazy @mimiscappinisideblog do y'all wanna be here? If not lemme know please 😅 DM me

[btsficsforthehumble]

more than you will ever know

pairing: reader x Taehyung

genre: idol au; smut, fluff

Word count: 2.9k

Summary: Taehyung wakes you up after he gets home from a long day at work.

Warnings: Waking up to sexual touching, oral sex (fem receiving), handjob, penetrative sex

A/N: They are so in love that it’s sick, read at your own digression hehe

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

“Jesus Christ Tae.”

Your voice is harsh as your words rush out of your mouth.

His long fingers circle your clit one more time over your underwear, as he hovers above you with a smirk he knows would get your panties soaked. I mean, who could blame you? 

Your boyfriend has the features of a Greek god, with just the perfect amount of imperfections. His bangs couldn’t hide the playful sparkle in his eyes. He knows how he affects you and at the moment, you weren’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse. 

He had just woken you up, having gotten home from a late night of studio recording hours after you had passed out from the stresses of your own day. You had planned to wait for him to get home, for a relaxing night of kdramas and ice cream, but your drooping eyelids had other plans. You had fallen asleep on your shared bed wearing only one of his large white tees and your panties.

He had obviously only gotten home only minutes ago, his loose brown pants tickling your legs where they had slotted in between yours. He still had his watch on and upon quick examination his sweater was thrown over the chair next to the bed. 

Knowing how tired he must be from his day, you were brought out of your lustful thoughts, instead worrying for him.

“Did you eat dinner babe? I can make you something quick, I don’t mind.”

His smile quickly transformed to one of honeyed warmth. 

“Yes, I ate. No, I don’t want you to make me something. You don’t need to worry about me, love.”

He twirls the end of a strand of your hair while his eyes stare into your own, conveying his love for you.

“No matter what you say I’m going to worry about you and you know that.”

His smile only deepens, eyes reflecting a wisdom that shines through beyond what you’d expect out of the playful man. He has told you a million times how adorable he finds your pouty face, and you can tell he is thinking the same thing this very moment.

“Trust me, I do. And I love you for it.” His deep voice rumbles quietly as he begins leaning forward, eyes focused on your lips.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and you lift your head slightly just to meet his lips just a fraction of a second sooner. 

As cliche as it sounds, when your lips met, all of your other thoughts seemed to seep to the edges of your conscience, to be examined later. You become swept up in his gentle firmness, the way his large hand cradles the back of your head as his soft lips caress your own. It felt like wrapped in his arms, you were as safe as you could possibly be. A sense of calm euphoria washes over you as he holds you in a way which reminds you of someone holding an object once treasured, that had been lost, only to be found again. Taehyung was the sentimental type, after all. 

His tongue gently sweeps across your lower lip, wanting to make the kiss deeper. You are quick to respond, parting your lips slightly. The hand that had cradled your head slowly moves down to the small of your back, allowing him to pull your pelvis flush with his. You feel impossibly close, yet you wiggle to get impossibly closer. 

It seemed he felt the same way, because his tongue enters your mouth to graze across the inside of your lip, then to flick over your own tongue. This incites a groan from the back of your throat that seems to spur him on, holding you even closer, if possible, and kissing you a little bit harder.

Because you always like to keep him on his toes, you quickly take control of the kiss inflicting the same treatment upon him. This time, he’s the one to let out a moan. It sends a chill of excitement down your spine as you can feel a deep rumble beginning in his chest. He pulls you upwards, now completely sitting in his lap, and places his hands on your hips to steady you. Your mouths still connected, you thread your fingers through his hair and give it a little tug. To your utter satisfaction, he lets out another grunt and pulls away, his eyes closed in pleasure. 

When they open, they see you giving him a cheeky smile that you know you’ll pay for in the best way possible. He lifts his eyebrow and gives you a smirk that makes a shot of excitement travel straight to your pussy. He takes his hands that were gripping your hips and pushes you against his hard dick, causing a whine to tumble out of you. 

“You think you can just sit there and be naughty without any consequences huh? I guess I’ll have to teach you then.” He whispers, leaning to speak directly next to your ear. His voice is low enough to make you squirm in an attempt to get any sort of relief. He feels you shifting and tsks, swiping his thumb back and forth on your upper thigh just to the side of where you want him so desperately.

You let out a soft whine, your puppy dog eyes making him go soft on you. He then slides his  thumb under your panties, rubbing slow circles over your clit. You let out a sigh of relief, your eyes closed in pleasure. His thumb then dips down further to gather some of the wetness that had accumulated near your entrance, sweeping back up to your clit. All you could do was rest your forehead on his shoulder, completely lost in the feeling of his rough digit over your sensitive nub.��

“You get so wet for me, baby. You’re perfect.” His dulcet tone had you raise your head to meet his eyes, shining with sincerity. You feel at that moment you couldn’t go a second longer without kissing him, so you lean forward to meet his lips that were still flushed from your earlier kisses. No one had ever made you feel as safe and loved as Tae did, especially encased in his arms as you were now. 

His movements under your panties hadn’t ceased; in fact, had only grown in speed. You pant out his name as your mouths part, lost in the feeling of his touch. 

At this, he pulled his hand out from your panties and lifted his shirt off of you, followed quickly by the one that had only moments ago been bunched in your hand against his tummy. 

You trace delicately lines down his chest, making him shiver slightly once you circle one of his dark nipples. You think that Taehyung is the most beautiful man you have ever seen. His body feels strong and powerful under your touch, but has soft edges that make you swoon. You are truly whipped for this man, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He leans forward, meeting your lips in a quick peck before lowering you to lay flat on the bed. He moves backwards, allowing him to shimmy your (now drenched) panties off. He tosses them haphazardly on the floor, quickly shifting focus to your center that was in clear view as your legs were parted to allow him space. He lets out a low groan at the sight of your glistening pussy on display. You suck your bottom lip between your teeth, desperate for his touch once more.

“Please Tae. I need you.” You knew your voice was slightly whiny but you needed him. So. Bad.

At this, he leans forward to lie flat on his stomach, his arms hooking around your upper thighs from below to allow him to hold you close. 

“Relax baby. I’m right here.” His breath fans your wet folds as he speaks, making you let out another soft whine. He chuckles and then gives you a long lick from your seeping hole to your needy clit with the flat of his tongue.

“Fuck Taehyung!” The sudden flood of stimulation has you grip his hair as you shouted.

This only inspires him to continue to lap at you, his tongue periodically moving in circles around your clit only to return to your entrance to tease you there. He pulls your hips as close to his face as he physically can, making his nose press into your pubic bone.

He lets his tongue slip into you, and fucks you leisurely with it. Meanwhile, one of his hands sneaks closer to your center, giving him access to rub your clit in tight circles with his thumb. You were basically writhing at this point from how fucking amazing it felt, and in response he presses his hand not currently in action down onto your lower belly to keep you in place while he continues to eat you out. You feel the muscles of your abdomen clench in preparation for your oncoming orgasm, and he can feel it too. Impossibly, he seems to double his efforts at this and you feel yourself hurtling towards the finish line. All you can do is chant curses under your breath, getting higher in pitch until suddenly the dam breaks and your body seems to buzz in pleasure, your limbs twitching with the power of your orgasm. He never stops his movements, guiding you through it until your body seems to lose all the tension that it had built. He pulls away, but not before giving your clit a parting kiss. 

Tae untangles his arms from you, allowing himself to shift upwards to hover directly over you now. He smiles at the sight of your blissed out face. Leaning forward, he captures your lips in a deep kiss that allows you to taste yourself on his tongue, the stickiness still present on his lips and chin. You let out a moan at the feeling of his tongue coated with your essence sweeping over your own. 

You allow your hand to trail down from his face to his torso, eventually landing on his cock, currently straining against the thick material of his pants. At your touch, he moans into your mouth, pushing his hips further towards you. You begin to palm his erection over his pants, his neediness far from disguised as he rocks himself against your hand. You decide to relieve him a little, so you carefully unbutton and unzip his pants, sure not to damage the undoubtedly expensive fabric. You pull him from his boxers and begin to stroke up and down his length. He seems almost to pulse in your hand with need. A drop of precum oozes out of his swollen tip and you swipe your thumb over it to spread it along his cock. 

“Please Baby, I need you.” His voice is more gravely than usual as he mirrors your earlier sentiment, evidence of his restraint. 

You remove your hand, and he tugs down his pants and boxers, taking a hurried second to shift them below his knees to remove himself from the clothing completely. Now, as he kneels before you, his desire is even more evident. His cock is flush and impossibly hard, bouncing as he crawls his way over you to line himself up with your dripping core. 

“Please fuck me Tae,” you whimper. You lock eyes with him as his thumb sweeps across your cheek in a sweet manner that melted you.

He eases the head of his cock into you, monitoring your expressions carefully as he slowly pushes in. His eyebrows furrow as he restrains himself to not just bury himself to the hilt in your warm, wet pussy. Seeing only pleasure on your face, he allows himself to continue until he is nestled in you fully, taking a second there just to bask in the feeling of your bodies finally connected in every way. You wiggle your hips a little in anticipation and he knows you are ready. He begins to rock himself in and out of you, shallowly thrusting as his lips find the juncture of your neck and shoulders. As he leaves kisses and love bites there, he simultaneously kneads your breast gently in one of his large hands. At this point, he knows the perfect amount of pressure to apply to make you see stars from this alone. His fingers lightly pinch and pull your nipple, then smooth over the soft skin a moment later.

At the feeling of him stretching you out with every thrust of his hips, his hand on your breast and lips on your neck, you felt like you were floating. The sensations were overwhelming, but in a way that made your body buzz in pleasure.

Soon enough, Taehyung’s pace picks up as he allows himself to go deeper and faster. You feel your g-spot getting hit with every stroke and your mind goes completely blank at the feeling of getting roughly fucked by your boyfriend’s perfect cock. His head now rests on your shoulder, his arms supporting his weight as not to crush you. Your arms land around his broad shoulders, your hands resting in his crown of loose curls. Cries of pleasure leave your lips, meeting with the sound of his soft groans causing the sounds of your love to spread throughout your shared bedroom. 

Never one to leave you bored, he surprises you by pulling out and flipping you around so now you are flat on your stomach, him holding a plank position above you and burying himself back in you. He gives open mouthed kisses to the nape of your neck as his cock seems to go even deeper inside of you. All you can do is fist the sheets below you as you whimper. You find yourself speeding towards your second release quicker than you thought possible, and with the rapid snaps of Tae’s hips you assume he was close too. 

“Fuck baby, your little pussy is so fucking tight for me. You take me so well.” He sounded as if he spoke through clenched teeth as he continued to give you quick deep strokes. 

“Please Tae, I wanna cum!”

He wraps his arm around your hip to allow him access to rub your clit, now circling it in pace with his hurried trusts.

“Cum for me baby. Cum all over my cock.” Only seconds after he speaks, you feel your pleasure spike white hot. You cum with a broken sob, his dick still hitting you in all of the right places all the way through your second orgasm. Your body slumps down slightly after your release washes over you. Tae is quick to follow, his thrusts growing sloppy as he grips your hips tighter.

“Fuck y/n!” It comes out as a near growl as he cums deep inside of you, slowing fucking his cum into you as deep as he could get it. After finally stilling in you, he takes a couple moments buried in you in the same position before he wraps an arm around your torso to twist you both so you fall into more of a spooning position with him still inside of you.

The two of you are both utterly spent, but don’t want the moment to end. Your legs intertwine as you both come down from your highs. Your favorite part of your day was when you got to be in Taehyung’s arms, lost in your love for each other like this. After a little time passes, the stickiness between your legs becomes noticeably uncomfortable and you shift your hips a little to worm your way out of his grip. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll go get a towel.” He pulls out and rolls out of bed to quickly walk to your bathroom. He sits at the edge of the bed upon his return, him already clean and ready to make you feel comfortable as well. He brushes a stray lock of hair out of your eyes and leans down for a quick kiss, meanwhile easing the warm cloth between your legs and gently wiping your collective mess away. 

“I love you so much Taehyung.” Your voice has so much conviction that tears are brought to your eyes.

“And I love you so much more. More than you will ever know y/n.” His eyes hold some sort of melancholy, as if he is already experiencing you two growing old together and facing the cold wrath of death. You had a feeling you did actually know how much he loved you. You yourself felt as if a world in which you had to live without him is a world in which you didn’t want to be in. He is your partner, your inspiration, your home.

You embrace each other with so much tenderness that you let a few tears fall down your cheeks. The utter contentment and love you feel in the moment makes your heart so happy it sings. Upon feeling your tears, you look up to find his eyes as wet as yours. You both realize your emotional state, smile at each other, eyes crinkling. You think to yourself that you are so incredibly lucky to have found a love as true as the one you shared with Taehyung. If fate was real, your love was certainly the product of it. 

[hopelikethemoon]

Rockstar (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: Rockstar Rating: Explicit  Length: 2900 Warnings: Smut (sex, slight sub/dom, mild roleplay, cumplay, brief cumeating, consensual choking)  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in January 1999.  Summary: Reader and Javier finally enjoy a little roleplay. 

@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @beccaplaying @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @snivellusim @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @awesomefandomsunited @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @ah-callie @swhiskeys @exrebelshocktrooper @u-wakatoshii @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi  @cinewhore @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque @theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar @sabinemorans @buckstaposition @holkaskrosnou @yespolkadotkitty@seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie @jaime1110 @katlikeme​

“You know what we haven’t addressed yet, baby?” Javier questioned, tracing his fingertips along your arm as you turned to face him. 

“What’s that?”

“Your apparent musical talents.” 

You swatted him lightly on the face, shoving him away from you playfully. “Oh, stop.” 

Javier curled his arm around your waist and pulled you back in close to him, “I’m being serious!” He laughed. “You never told me you played the guitar.”

You pressed your palms to either side of his face, “I was a broody teenager. I wouldn’t call it musical talent.” You rolled your eyes. “I pawned that guitar off before I moved to Atlanta.”

“So you held onto it for awhile, hmm?” Javier arched a brow at you, “Did you play in the academy?”

“Oh my God.” You rolled onto your back and stared up at the ceiling. “I was focused on my studies, I wasn’t sitting around playing the guitar.” You narrowed your eyes as you turned to look at him, “Why? Do you have some weird fantasy of me playing guitar?”

Javier ran his tongue over the edges of his teeth. “It’s not a fully formed fantasy yet.” He turned onto his side, reaching out and resting his hand on your stomach, his fingers fanning out over your skin. “Steve’s got a guitar.”

You grimaced, resting your hand over his. “I know he does. But I don’t know if he’s down for letting us borrow it to live out whatever groupie fantasy you’ve got cooked up.”

“Who said I was a groupie?”

“Oh, right… You’re my security guard.” You gave him a droll look. “Cute that you think a successful musician would be sleeping with her security guard.”

“I think bodyguard is the word you're looking for.” Javier leaned over you so he could press a kiss to your lips. 

“I bet you guard my body very well,” You teased, cocking your head to the side as you looked up at him, running your fingers through his hair. “I guess I can see the appeal.”

His brows rose upwards as he looked down at you, “You guess?” 

“I’m approaching this like I’m a very successful musician.” You shrugged, shifting beneath him so you could hook your leg around his. “Think about all the musicians I’d have access to.” You scraped your teeth over your bottom lip as you tried to keep from laughing. “I bet with enough success, I could get my hands on any actor I want.”

“This is a slightly less fun scenario.” Javier huffed. 

“Only slightly?” You curled your fingers around the back of his neck. 

Javier shrugged as he pressed his knee between your thighs to keep himself hovering above you. “You’d still be here.”

You scrunched up your nose, “You’re a sap.”

“Might be.”

You leaned up and pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw, before kissing him on the lips. “Good thing I love sappy.” You whispered, rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip as you pulled back. “Maybe I’d have some glamorous PR relationship and then come home to you.” You suggested, trailing your fingers down his throat. 

“A PR relationship, huh?” Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he stared down at you. “Don’t know how I feel about that.”

You dragged your fingers through his hair and tugged lightly at the strands, “But you’re so sexy when you’re jealous.”

“Yeah?” Javier’s knee slid higher, pressing against the apex of your thighs. “And when have I been jealous?”

You threw your head back against the mattress and laughed. “Javier.” You rolled your eyes, “You get all testy every single time someone flirts with me.” You lightly shoved him in the chest. “Was that someone else back in Colombia? You were a surly asshole when I was dating Lance.” 

“Because I didn’t like him!” Javier rocked his jaw as he stared down at you. “And I didn’t like that he was with you.”

“So picture that,” You started with a smirk, scratching your nails over his shoulders. “Me dating someone for my public persona and then I come home to you.” You scraped your nails down the back of his neck as you leaned up to catch his bottom lip between your teeth. “You’d be so pissy and I’d reap the benefits of that.”

“And what benefits would that be?” Javier questioned, slowly grinding his knee against you. 

Your breath caught in the back of your throat as you arched towards him. “You’d have to be right there — protecting me — while I’m with whatever handsome musician or actor they’ve set me up with. Watching me kiss someone else.” You whispered, tracing your thumb over his lips. 

Javier’s lips parted and he caught your thumb between his teeth, his tongue darting out over the tip. “Standing outside your room?”

“Maybe.” You planted one foot against the bed, using it for leverage as you wrapped your leg around his hips, pulling him down towards you. “That would kill you, wouldn’t it?”

He gave a stiff nod. 

“I don’t think I’d be too cruel.” You assured him, dragging your thumb along the curve of his jaw as you stared up at him. “You’d have me all to yourself once we were out of the public eye.” 

Javier leaned down, his breath hot against your lips as he spoke. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Marking you where no one can see. Skirting around each other in public places?”

“There is a certain appeal to the forbidden aspect of it.” You answered, leaning up to brush your lips against his, sucking on his bottom lip. “I just know that whatever alternative world we would live in, I’d still be yours. If you’d have me.” 

“If I’d have you.” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Baby, you’re it for me.” Javier told you, letting more of his weight press down against you, allowing you to feel the hard length of his cock trapped between your bodies. 

“Even if I were a high maintenance musician, keeping our private affair a secret?” You questioned, shifting your leg so you could rub it against his cock. 

A soft groan escaped him as his hand moved swiftly to grab at your hip to hold you steady. “Depends on how high maintenance you are.” 

You smirked up at him, wiggling your hips despite his grip on you. “I would require a lot of attention.” You told him, tracing your finger over his lips. “Special attention.”

“Not something your boyfriend could handle?” Javier shot back and your heart skipped a beat at the low tone he’d taken with you. A tone that went straight between your thighs to the growing pool of arousal there. 

“No.” You grabbed at his face roughly, pulling him down into a desperate kiss. Neither of you could typically handle roleplay, but this was toeing the line just right to flip all the switch roleplay never did. 

“No?” Javier questioned, his voice parroting the tone of your own. “You wouldn’t be too ashamed to fuck me, baby? I’d just be some washed up,  former DEA agent turned bodyguard.” 

“Sounds like my type.” You whispered, not quite trusting your voice as he ground his knee between your thighs, causing it to rub right against your clit with his every move. 

“Yeah? I thought you were going to be running around town with some pretty boy.”

“You’re pretty.” You told him, winding your fingers through his hair. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think I’d care who found out about us.” 

Javier arched a brow at you as he ghosted his fingers over your throat. 

“Yes.” You breathed out, lashes fluttering as his fingers closed around the column of your throat — not hard enough to leave marks, but just enough to make your mind go fuzzy at the edges. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works, baby. Big name musician dating her security? They’re not going to go for that.” 

“Fuck them then.” You managed, dragging your nails down his back, hard enough to leave angry red stripes in their wake. 

Javier’s eyes narrowed and you felt your pulse jump as his fingers tightened just a fraction more before he released his hold on your throat. “Wouldn’t want anyone to find out.” He whispered, kissing the curve of your jaw before sweeping his tongue down your throat, teeth nipping are the hollow spot above your collarbones. 

“I wouldn’t care who found out, Javi.” You told him, squirming beneath him as he dipped his hand beneath your tank top, his rough palm playing over the soft skin of your waist. “I don’t care.” 

Javier chuckled against the throat, his teeth scraping gently over your collarbone before he pulled back to meet your gaze. “You don’t care?” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and for a second you felt like the prey to his predator — and you loved it. “What about that PR boyfriend you were going to run around town with? Making me watch as you fell in love with him.”

Your nails dug into his forearms as you stared up at him and he didn’t even flinch. “Who said anything about love?” You scoffed. “I love you.”

“Mhm.” He hummed skeptically. “If you had your pick of celebrities, you’d still go for me?” 

You rolled your eyes as you leaned up to kiss his chin. “You’re it for me too, Javi.”

Javier exhaled slowly as a lazy sort of grin spread over his lips. “Now that is music to my ears.” He cupped your jaw and dipped down to kiss you, before growling out an order. “Roll over.”

He gave you room to comply, readjusting above you as you rolled onto your stomach. Your pulse was drumming in your veins as Javier ran his hand down your ass, needing it through the soft cotton of your shorts, before his fingers found a patch of bare skin just at the leg and he swatted at it lightly. 

You pressed your forehead against your arms, letting out a breathy cry of delight as he repeated the motion again. 

“You like that, baby?”

“I’d like it better if your cock was in me,” You shot back, arching your back beneath him to fit your ass against his lap. 

Javier slid his hand up the leg of your shorts and beneath the edge of your underwear to grab at your ass cheek. “I’d hate it.” He told you. “It would be burn me up, seeing you with someone else.”

“And you’d never—“ Your words were quickly cut off by the feeling of his thumb brushing over the crotch of your underwear. 

“Did you get this fucking wet just thinking about making me jealous, baby?” Javier questioned, working his thumb over your folds, the fabric sticking to your slick flesh. “Fuck.” 

“Yes.” You admitted, biting down on your bottom lip as his thumb found your throbbing clit. Your pulse was rushing and you swore you could feel your pulse there with every stroke of his finger. 

You grabbed at the sheets beneath you, fisting them in your palms as he kept ghosting his thumb over you, driving up the proverbial wall. 

Javier stopped — only long enough to jerk your shorts and underwear down around your thighs. “Did you like that?” He questioned, rubbing at your inner thighs. “You’re soaked.” 

“And empty.” You retorted, tilting your head to look back at him. You felt blood rush to your face as your eyes landed on his already exposed cock. He’d shoved his boxers down his thighs, his fingers curled around his straining length. “Javier.”

“Didn’t know if you wanted this, baby.” He said lowly, his eyes meeting yours. “Thought you might have someone else.” The tone he was using was embarrassingly hot. A little edge of mocking, mixed with lust. It was definitely doing things for you. 

“Don’t be a jackass, Javier.” You gritted out, wiggling your ass to entice him. “Fuck me.” 

“You sure?” Javier taunted. “Wouldn’t want to overstep my bodyguard duties.”

“Keep pushing it and maybe I’ll just get myself off.” You snapped back at him, making moves to get up. 

That got Javier to act on your needs. He grabbed at your hip to hold you steady, using his other hand to guide his cock into you. 

God — you loved this position. You loved the weight of his body crowding over you, the depth he was able to drive his cock into you, the way you felt absolutely trapped by him. As much as you loved being in control — these were the moments you looked forward to surrendering to. 

Javier’s fingers found their way around your throat again, his lips close to your ear as you spoke. “You like this, baby?”

You nodded. 

He tightened his hold, “Use your words.”

“Yes!” You gasped out, your eyes rolling back in your head as his cock dragged over that sweet spot within you as he slid back into you. 

“You feel so fucking good.” Javier grunted out, keeping one hand at your throat, while the other gripped after your hip tight enough to bruise. His pace was rough, his hips snapping forward — barely pulling out of you before filling your cunt to the brim. 

Your inner walls were already clenching around him, the precursor to your orgasm starting to burn you straight to the core. “Javier!” You moaned out, a little too loudly and he was quick to slide his hand from your throat to your mouth. 

“You’ve gotta be quiet, baby.” He panted out. “Wouldn’t want anyone to catch us.” You wondered if Javier had any idea what that tone did to you. It was different — rough and almost dangerous. 

And you wondered if this possessive need would’ve been what you were met with if you had lured him into your web in the aftermath of Lance back in Colombia. If he would’ve acted on his jealousy. 

You nipped at the palm of his hand and he released his hold he had on your mouth, “If you didn’t feel so fucking good.” You hissed, rolling back into his thrusts. 

Javier chuckled, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. “I can feel you clenching, baby. You gonna come?” 

You grabbed at the sheets tight enough for your fingers to start to cramp as he picked up the pace of his movements, driving into you. 

It was good. It was real fucking good. Every thrust had him hitting right against that sweet spot and that was what finally set you off. You buried your face in your pillow to keep from crying out as your body pulsed around him — desperate to keep the thick length of his cock within you. 

But Javier didn’t waver. His grip tightened at your hip and his fingers sank into your hair to hold you as he pounded into you again and again. 

You couldn’t even stop the whine of pleasure that escaped you as he finally slammed into you and stayed. Your name was heavy on his tongue as he rocked his hips and filled you. 

“Holy shit.” You mumbled, all but melting into the mattress beneath him. 

Javier slid out of you — sooner than you would’ve liked. “Look at you,” He murmured, his fingers stroking over your slick folds as he leaked from you. 

“Fuck.” You moaned out as he pressed two fingers in to work his come back into you. 

Javier leaned down and nipped at your ass cheek, before he slid his fingers back out of you and dragged your underwear back up your thighs and into place. 

He laid down on his back beside you — looking like the cat that ate the canary as he wrapped his lips around his fingers and licked them clean. 

You shifted enough to get your arms out from under the pillow, reaching out to curl your fingers around his forearm. “I actually drew blood.” You laughed a little, rubbing your thumb over the angry crescent moon shaped mark. 

Javier tilted his head to look at you, “I think we both left our marks.” He caught your hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss the palm of it. 

You smiled, rubbing your thumb over his mustache. “I think that was roleplay.” 

He chuckled, “We finally managed.”

“I think I could do that again.” You admitted, stretching your leg out so you could hook your leg over his. 

“Me too.” Javier nodded, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “That… was hot.”

You laughed breathlessly, “Hot feels like an understatement.”

“And you’d still pick me?” 

You nodded without hesitation, “There’s no world that exists where I wouldn’t end up with you. And if there is one, I don’t want it.” 

He interlaced his fingers with your hand, squeezing it three times. “Me neither.”

“I don’t want to look at the alarm clock.”

Javier made a face, rolling towards you so he could press a kiss to your forehead. “They’ll be up soon. I’ve got it handled.”

“Really?”

He nodded, brushing hair away from your eyes, “Yeah. Sleep another hour or so, baby.”  He smirked, “Rockstars need their beauty sleep.” 

You shoved him playfully, only to pull him back towards you so you could kiss him. 

[l8rhader]

Post (well, sometime before the time jump to the airport before their wedding  which I would argue still hasn’t happened even though it WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE 6 MONTHS AGO BUT LET'S JUST IGNORE THAT PART LOLOLOL so let’s call this October in the timeline of-) come out of the things unsaid  my Adult Reddie, quarantine, Tik Tok AU.

Addition based on this video!!

Eddie sat curled in the corner of the couch, a glass of wine curled between his fingers. He stared at the phone in his other hand as though it offended 6 lines of his lineage. Well, no, like it had offended 6 of his closest friends. He kept trying to type out witty responses, but after looking at the profile attached to the laundry list of degrading comments, it was clear that the user was... young. Very young. Like, younger than the T&C's young but, come to think of it, he wasn't sure they'd mentioned an age. But after an hour of comment after comment on his videos, the latest series being him teaching Richie how to play piano (despite how rusty his skill set had been) and Richie teaching him how to play guitar (even if most of those videos were cut short because Eddie couldn't keep his hands to himself). Most people thought it was cute.

Except 69LonnyTheLiger420.

By the time Richie came out of the bedroom, he was in the worst mood. "What it do, baby boo?" he said, dropping into the couch beside him and wrapping his arm around Eddie’s back. No response. Dejected, Richie leaned in closer and tried again. "What's the hap, cap?" He nudged Eddie’s cheek with his nose, finally startling him into reality with a high pitched hum. "I said, What's the tea, sweet pea?" Eddie crinkled his nose and shook his head, dismissing yet another nickname. "Do you not love me anymore?" he laughed, knowing that clearly wasn't the case, but something was definitely off. "Eds, what's up?" His eyes searched Eddie's for a moment before the notification noise for Tik Tok went off. Richie snatched the phone and opened it, frowning at Eddie’s notifications.

"Give it back. It's nothing. It's-"

Eyes wide, Richie fought down the decades old urge to flee. Instead, he hissed out, "Christ, babe. Does this happen a lot?"

Eddie shrugged. He supposed it happened fairly often. They were gay and happy and unapologetic and rubbing their new love in the face of millions of followers. It made sense, to an extent. This particular batch was just a lot.

Shaking his head, Richie tugged Eddie up by the hand. "No more phone,” he said, guiding him up the hallway toward their bedroom.  Eddie made an exaggerated reach for it and Richie, instead leaned over, sweeping him into a fireman’s carry.  “No more phone.”  He shoved the device down into his pocket before slapping Eddie’s ass and eliciting a yelp in response.

“Put me down, jackass.  I’m a grown man.  I can wa-”

“Grown is an exaggerated term, toots,” he joked, navigating the hall with ease, despite his fiance kicking his feet and pounding his fists, calling him all sorts of creative names that thirteen year old never could have come up with.  He tossed Eddie down on the bed and pounced on him.  “I don’t know if you remember, but we literally bullied a space oddity to death.  I think we are uniquely qualified for a response to this little shithead.”

With his hands on either side of Richie’s neck and his bony knees dug in just above his hips, he dumped Richie on to his side.  “I think that it’s a little kid and it’s not worth, I don’t know, screaming at him in the middle of a Chinese restaurant.”

Feigning offense, Richie whimpered “That was ONE time, and,” he pushed his glasses back up onto his nose, adding “AND that’s something I only reserve for fans when I’m under emotional duress.  This wretched little crotch goblin is clearly not a fan of either of ours so an emotional outburst is far above them.”

Eddie closed his eyes and shook his head, pulling Richie in for a kiss.  “I love you, but just let it go.  It’s not worth it.”

“You’re upset, babe,” he said, landing on the one nickname that Eddie never fought him on because he was too busy fighting off the butterflies swarming in his belly when he said it to actually argue.  “That means it’s worth it to me.”  The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile seeing Eddie’s resolve falter.  “You’re worth it all.”

The next morning, the video Eddie posted didn’t feature him at all.  Instead, it was five of 69LonnyTheLiger420′s least creative jabs, mainly mentioning their ages and their sexuality, floating around Richie’s head as he sat at the keyboard in the room that belonged to Eddie months and months of quarantine prior.  “You’re prob’ly just a kid in middle school and I don’t wanna fight a kid in middle school,” he crooned, accompanying himself with easy chords.  “Instead of fighting kids in middle school,” he leaned into the camera like he had a secret, then smiled.  “I’m gonna fuck your mom!  I’m gonna fuck your mom.  I’m gonna fuck your mom.”  He bopped back and forth, looking slightly reminiscent of a character from Peanuts.  “Don’t be such a saddie ‘cuz you got a new Daddy,” he added with a cheeky wink, “I’ll help you find a suit to prom.”  He dragged his middle finger up the keys dramatically in a fairly effective glissando.  “But, fuck with me and I will fuck your mom.”  He raised his eyebrows and gave a little half-hearted salute. 

Eddie swung the door open, then leaned against the doorframe looking at his fiance.  “Please don’t go the Burnham route.  I’m already sick of the people who compare you to Mulaney.”

“Why?  They’re good guys.  I don’t min-”

With a pointed stare, Eddie folded his arms.  “But you’re Richie Tozier.  You’re funny on your own.  You don’t need anyone else’s schtick.”  

Richie batted his eyes and smiled through pursed lips.  “You think I’m funny?” he cooed.  He may have played it up for Eddie’s consumption, but it still made him flutter when he actually admitted it.

Sticking his hand out and grabbing his phone to edit the video, “Come on, they put the final season of Schitt’s Creek up early so I am down for a rewatch,” he called from the hallway.  “At least I didn’t make you propose to yourself.  I love Patrick and all, but-”

”I proposed to you!  Twice!” he said, still blushing as he stood from the tiny collapsible piano bench.  “And does that mean you think you’re Patrick in this equation?  Because, baby,” he said, finally bounding into the living room, “apart from my eyebrow game, the kinship to the drinking of all wines, your startlingly similar boring fashion and comparative petite-ness,” Richie wagged his finger then swiped the remote from under the TV, “you are judgy, neurotic and,” he added quickly, “simply the best.”  He plopped down next to Eddie and wrapped him in his arms, kissing his neck.  “You are 100% the David here.”

They settled in for their binge watching.  Eddie’s phone dinged a few times, notifying them that the Losers were on the case, now.  Bill and Mike responded with a video of their own using the Pas de Deux from Us sporting matching unimpressed looks as they both tossed rocks from their garden idly in time with the music with the caption “Sticks and stones...”  It was basically nonthreatening, if maybe a little ominous, unless anyone seeing the video knew the Losers and their history with bullies, which they surely doubted.  A duet from Bev and Ben, flatly responding Beep Beep came next.  Finally, Stan’s response was of himself and Patty on the couch.  She was looking at her phone confused, Richie’s song audible in the background, finishing the loop and restarting.  “I think at this point the Mom jokes should be retired, Rich.  Eddie’s going to start getting jealous if all these little assholes start calling you Daddy, too,” he said, smirking at the screen as Patty chastised him from off-camera.  

Richie smiled, watching the responses over Eddie’s shoulder between episodes.  Even though momentary clips of the Losers were nice- it was better than nothing- Eddie really fucking missed them.  At least he knew that they’d always have his back.

[hookedonapirate]

Through the Rising Tide

Thank you so much for the beautiful graphic @itsfabianadocarmo​!

Summary: The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son.

Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past.

The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type.

Oh, and apparently their taste in women.

Or rather, one woman.

Feisty.

Blonde.

Gorgeous.

Green-eyed Goddess.

Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse…

Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident.

Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart.

Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces.

Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby.

Notes: 

Starts out as Jewelled Swan. Don’t like, don’t read!

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd​​ for looking it over!

This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take.

The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this:

"I hope you know through the rising tide

That I'll be here and you can lay by my side"

If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFJbLzEtoZw

P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture above and are wondering what it says—

"There is no happiness without tears

No life without death

And no true love without heartbreak"

Rated: Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs).

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

Catch up: Ch 1 // Ch 2 //

Chapter 3

One Year Later…

 With a sleepy groan, Emma shoots out her hand to silence the loud, annoying noise coming from her phone. “Ugh…” She drops the device on the nightstand and retreats underneath the covers, not ready to get up yet. She’s never ready to get up in the morning. She rolls over to her other side, seeking warmth from the body lying next to her. She wraps her arms around his torso and buries her face in his chest, not wanting to leave him. But she has to get ready for work. She hates the thought of leaving his arms, though. They fit so well together like this, like two puzzle pieces.

 She knows the longer she lies here like this, though, the stronger the urge to stay will be. She attempts to force herself out of bed. She kisses her sleeping boyfriend’s forehead and starts to get up. His strong arms pull her back to him, his hands latching onto her hips, pulling her on top of him so she’s straddling him. Emma emits a sleepy moan when she feels his thickness pressed against her core.

 “Where do you think you’re going, love?” he asks, his voice groggy with sleep as he wraps his arms around her to ensure she won’t leave him.

 “I have to go to work,” she groans, clearly not happy about it. When he tightens his arms around her, she wiggles in his hold and laughs, trying to free herself, but honestly, she’s not trying very hard.

 He caresses her cheek and pulls her in for a lazy kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to taste her. She moans against his lips, her body tingling and molding to his as she rocks slightly against him, her arousal coating his hard length as he arches his hips into her, seeking more friction. Friction she desperately wants to give him.

 But as much as she wants to get caught up in the kiss, in the effect he has on her, as much as she wants to just give herself to him and ride him into the next world, she really has to get up and go to work. She breaks the kiss, as painful and difficult as it is. “Babe, you’re not making it easy,” she says breathlessly.

 He pouts as he looks up at her, his crystal blue eyes boring into her green ones, not making this any easier. No, the way he’s looking at her right now makes it ten times harder. 

 “Sure you don’t have time for a quickie?” he begs, releasing a small groan of desperation as he palms her naked breast, brushing the pad of his thumb over her nipple, making it hard. 

 “Babe, if you make me late—” Her pleas are instantly silenced when he moves his hands to her ass and squeezes, pressing her more firmly against him. 

 He flashes a devilish smirk, one tainted with mischief that she only witnesses when they’re either talking about sex, having sex or about to have sex. “Then I’ll get to fuck you for the next hour.” 

 Emma had actually planned on getting up, but when she feels Liam’s lips on her neck and his teeth nibbling her skin, when she feels the head of his cock at her entrance, all bets are off. A moan tumbles from her lips and soon, Liam is grabbing her hips and sliding into her. Emma sits up, placing her hands on his chest in total submission and rocks her hips back and forth, eager to have him completely buried inside of her. 

 “Oh, fuck, Emma. . .”

 He reaches for her breasts again and squeezes as she rides his dick. She’s so glad she’d set her alarm clock fifteen minutes early like she always does because she knows nine times out of ten, she’ll let Liam get his way. It's their morning routine.

 But she can’t help it. Her boyfriend is so irresistible. The way he flips her over, sending Emma to her back, the way he pounds into her so rough and hard like he can never get enough of her. The way he kisses her so deeply and passionately, making her head spin. The expression on his face as her walls grip his cock, the way he groans, setting her skin ablaze. And the way he’s kissing her after it’s over, both of them breathless. When he pulls out, the way he kisses every inch of her on his way to her satisfied core, his cum dripping from her entrance as she combs her fingers through his curly brown hair. The way he laps up both of their orgasms from her cunt until her walls are fluttering around his tongue. She can’t help but give in to all of it.

 Emma’s fingers clench around his hair as she screams through another incredible orgasm. “Fuck… Liam!” 

 And once she's able to reassemble herself and jump out of bed before he can talk her into cuddling or going for another round, she immediately hates having to leave him. But now she must.

 Emma throws on some clothes, making sure she’s dressed appropriately in case she runs into her other roommate as she heads to the bathroom. The big, blissful smile plastered on her face instantly vanishes, though, her nose scrunching in disapproval when she steps on something and looks down, spotting a red, lacey thong on the floor outside Killian’s bedroom. A thong that is not her own. 

 What the actual fuck? 

 She grimaces and kicks the fabric aside like it’s contaminated with a deadly virus. She’s not surprised though. Disgusted, yes, but not surprised. Killian is always bringing a different woman home with him, and she and Liam always have to hear the noises coming from his bedroom. Therefore, they never feel bad when they’re going at it in their bedroom, and don’t even bother being quiet. 

 Sometimes she thinks the two brothers are engaging in some sort of weird contest, trying to see who can make the woman they’re with scream the loudest. She gathers it’s a pissing contest between the two brothers to see who’s the better bloke in the sack or to see who has the bigger cock. So Emma always makes sure she’s extra loud to let Killian know just how good his brother is in the sack. And so far, none of the women Killian’s brought to his bed have outmatched her. 

 Emma grins at the thought as she continues to the bathroom to relieve her bladder. She also thinks about how much things have changed since she came here to Storybrooke. She’d never meant to start a relationship with Liam, or anyone for that matter, when she’d ran into him outside his bar the night they’d met. They had exchanged phone numbers and he’d asked her out the next day, to which she’d reluctantly accepted. She was reluctant, not because she wasn't attracted to him—because God, she was—but because she still had a strong fortress surrounding her heart from when Neal had shattered it to pieces. But when she’d learned Liam too was cheated on by an ex, they had bonded over their heartaches, and she thought they could help each other heal. But they did so much more than that. 

 Emma fell for Liam and she fell hard. He’s much like a teddy bear, only soft on the inside, not the outside. He’s kind and loving and warm and best of all, he makes her laugh. When she’d discovered how good he was in bed on top of all his amazing qualities, she thought he was too good to be true. He seemed like the total package. He is the total package. But still, she’d kept waiting for the other shoe to drop; it never did, though. Or at least, it hasn’t dropped. yet.

 Once she's under the shower stream, she’s wetting her hair and singing the first song that comes to mind. Titanium by David Guetta. 

  “You shout it out, but I can’t hear a word you say. . .”

 After nine years, she still sings this damn song. But it’s so perfect for the shower because the lyrics are ones she can easily belt out, the words echoing beautifully off the bathroom walls.

 She’s been singing in the shower since she was eight years old. Her brother would always pound on the bathroom door when she was taking a shower, and yell for her to stop. It was like that when they lived in the same house growing up and it was like that after she moved in with him and Mary Margaret. She has to admit, she misses annoying the hell out of her brother. 

  Bang, bang, bang.

 “Would you stop your bloody awful singing?!" Killian shouts through the door. “Some people are actually trying to sleep around here!”

 Now that she lives with Liam, she has his pain in the ass brother to annoy. As fun as that is, it’s not really the same.

 Emma doesn’t stop though. Instead, she grins to herself and lathers shampoo into her hair, closing her eyes as she makes sure to sing even louder and more obnoxious.

  “You criticize, but all your bullets ricochet. Shoot me down, but I get up. . .”

 Ever since she moved in with her boyfriend eight months ago, Killian has been a pesky thorn in her side. He’s been nothing but a nuisance. From leaving his dirty dishes in the sink to sleeping with a different woman almost every night to pissing her off every chance he gets. He’s always trying to bring her down, always finding new ways to push her buttons. She’s not sure exactly why it all started. Maybe because he’s held a grudge against her since she chose his brother over him. Or maybe because he thinks she’s trying to steal his brother away from him. But either way, she’s not giving him the satisfaction of letting him get to her. Or at least letting him know he gets to her. 

 Emma starts shouting out the lyrics, each word louder than the previous one, purposely trying to get a rise out of him, just like he always does to her. 

 “Shoot me down, but I won’t fall! I am Tit-aaaaan-iiiiiiiuuuuuum! Shoot me down, but I won’t—”

 The whine of the faucet interrupts her, and suddenly she's shivering, no longer feeling the hot water spraying her skin. What the fuck? One second she's rinsing her hair and the next, the bathroom door is slamming shut and she’s just standing there in the bathtub with shampoo dripping down her face and no water to rinse it out with. 

 That damn bastard turned off the shower!

 “What the hell?!” she screeches, her words garbled when the shampoo drips into her mouth. She spits it out and spins around, blindly reaching for the towel on the rack, yanking it off the bar and wiping her face with it. “You asshole!”

 She steps out of the tub, blood bubbling under her skin as she wraps the towel around her body. Okay, pounding on the bathroom door is one thing, but shutting off the water while she’s taking a shower is a whole different level of asshole for Killian Jones! And she won’t stand for it. She’s not letting him get away with this.  

 She marches out of the bathroom and down the hall, leaving a dripping wet trail of soapy water behind her. But she doesn’t give a fuck at the moment. She rips his door open and storms into his room without any sort of grace. She hurries over to his alarm clock, which he leaves on his dresser across the room so he'll have to get up to turn it off. He does it so he won’t be tempted to hit the snooze button and fall back asleep. 

 Killian’s in his bed with the covers over his head as Emma turns on the music and cranks up the volume. She immediately spins around and scurries out of his room, her heart hammering in her chest, but when she makes it to the doorway, she can feel his hand gripping her arm as he turns her around and presses her firmly against the wall, just outside his door.  

 She loses her breath.

 He doesn’t say anything at all; he just stares at her, a mixture of emotions written all over his face. She can’t tell if he’s pissed or irritated, or if the look on his face is just pure hatred for her. Or if it’s something else entirely.

 Emma loses a breath when he closes the gap between them until their bodies are pressed together, his face inches from hers. He still doesn’t murmur a word, just stares at her. 

 She gulps when his eyes flicker over her face, and it almost seems like he’s going to. . .

 No, no, no, that can’t be. She knows for a fact she’s just imagining things, because Killian would never try to kiss her. Not only because his brother is dating her, but because he hates her with every fiber of his being; he’s never said it out loud, but she knows deep down he does.

 Killian’s still staring at her and she’s so stunned in her spot, she can’t even move. As his eyes move to her lips, she swears she stops breathing, her heart pounding in her ear. He hasn’t looked at her with anything apart from hatred since the night they met.

 He quickly amends his stare, his eyes snapping to hers, regret clouding his face. “I’m sorry,” he whispers huskily and releases her, dashing to his room and slamming the door behind him. 

  What the hell was that?

 He may have been able to move, but she feels like she’s superglued to the wall. She can still feel his palms on her wrists like he’s still pinning her, but he’s not.

 “What the bloody hell was all that racket?” 

 The sound of Liam’s voice makes her heart jump into her throat, and she has to peel herself from the wall. When she does, she feels a million times lighter. She blows out a long breath. A breath she feels like she’s been holding this whole time. She turns to Liam and gets on her tiptoes as she wraps her arms around the back of his neck, kissing him chastely on the lips. “Nothing, babe, it was just your annoying brother hollering at me for singing again and telling me how awful of a singer I am.” 

 “Don’t listen to him. You sing beautifully,” Liam assures her sweetly, kissing the tip of her nose. “I love your singing.”

 Emma smiles at his compliments, but her face twists at the memories of Killian turning off the water on her. “I never do listen to him, but that asshole shut off the shower on me while I was in there. And I had shampoo in my hair and it got in my eyes and mouth.”

 She can see the anger spiraling through her boyfriend, his features appalled. “He did what?!” Liam lunges toward Killian’s door, but Emma moves in front of him and places her hands on his chest to stop him. 

 “It’s fine. I got him back.” She smirks. “I turned on his music and cranked up the volume. 

 “I know, I could hear everything,” he grumbles, his eyes focused on Killian’s door. Emma’s still standing in front of him so he won’t go charging in there, but he manages to pound on the door. “What the fuck, Killian?! You don’t go into the bathroom while Emma’s using it! She lives here, too, you wanker!”

 “I already told her I was sorry!” he calls through the door.

 Emma furrows her brows. She thought Killian had said he was sorry for pinning her against the wall and almost kissing her. Or at least, that’s what it seemed like.

 “Sorry, love,” Liam murmurs, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead. “My brother’s a pompous arse sometimes.”

 She can’t disagree with that. This is far from the first time Killian’s been a jerk to her and it won’t be the last. She wishes she and Liam could get a place of their own. What she wouldn’t give to be able to get up in the morning and prance around the apartment half-naked, or even naked if she so chose to be, not having to worry about annoying roommates who only stir up trouble and tell her she’s an awful singer. She knows her boyfriend wants to be close to his brother, but still, how does Liam not get sick of Killian’s shit?

 “It’s fine,” she assures him, looking up into his warm blue eyes. “I just can’t wait until we get a place of our own. Just you and me.” 

 A serene smile stretches over Liam’s lips as he gazes into her eyes and caresses her cheek. “I can’t wait either, baby.” He turns her toward the wall, pressing her back against it, much like Killian had done a few moments ago. Emma moans when she feels Liam’s thickness digging into her thigh. “Then I would get to fuck you whenever I wanted without worrying about my little brother pounding on the wall, telling us to stop.” He lifts her up and she instinctively wraps her legs around his waist as he buries his face in the crook of her neck and gives her a few gentle thrusts. Emma tilts her head back and moans, loving the way his cock feels pressed against her center. He’s wearing boxers, but she can still feel every inch of him.

 “That would be amazing,” she murmurs breathlessly as he leaves a trail of kisses down her neck. 

 “But it might not be such a good idea because then I would never want to leave. I’d want to stay home and make love to you all day.”

 Emma laughs as his words vibrate against her skin. “You’re insatiable.”

 “Can’t help it, love. You’re so bloody gorgeous and perfect. And when you have something rare and precious, you hold onto it and never let it go.”

 Emma’s heart warms, a blissful smile curving her lips. Liam’s sweet lines, no matter how cheesy or sappy, are just some of the reasons why she fell in love with him. He always knows what to say to make her feel special. Emma fists her hands in his hair and pulls his face to hers, capturing his lips for a heated kiss.

 Killian’s bedroom door opens, and he barges through the hallway, bursting their cozy, quiet bubble. “I can’t wait for you two to get your own place either. Then I won’t have to hear you two fucking every goddamn second of the day,” he grumbles as he marches down the hall.

 “Oh, like we’ve never heard you fucking one of your many conquests!” Emma hollers after him.

 “Whatever, I’m taking a shower. I’m late for work and you’re taking too damn long.” 

 Emma’s eyes widen when he disappears into the bathroom, and she releases herself from Liam’s hold and follows Killian, but before she can stop him, he slams the door in her face.

 She’s seeing red as she wiggles the knob and is even more pissed when it’s locked. “You asshole! I have to rinse the shampoo out of my hair since you shut off my shower before I could!”

 He answers by turning on his heavy metal music.

 Emma lets out a frustrated scream and pounds on the door. So much for being at work on time today.

 She’s fucking pissed and about to kick the door, but Liam’s warm arms instantly put her at ease. 

 “Come on, baby, don’t let him get under your skin. Let me make you breakfast while you wait for the shower.”

 Emma relents and goes to her room to grab her bathrobe. She rinses her hair off in the kitchen sink as Liam starts the coffee.

 ~*~

 Killian’s still cursing to himself when Emma’s in the shower for the second time that morning. He tugs on his shirt, hating himself for what he’d done earlier in the hallway. He never should’ve pinned her against the wall and almost kissed the bloody hell out of her, but he’d reacted before he could control himself. 

 When he had pressed her into the wall, she was standing there, dripping wet in nothing but a towel. He can still see the wet spots on the carpet where her hair had dripped to the floor—in his bedroom when she marched in here to turn on his music and outside his door. He’d damn near drooled when he gazed upon the soft swell of her slick breasts, and couldn’t help but notice her pebbled nipples underneath the thin cotton. He could feel her taut nipples against his chest when he pressed himself into her. She was so fucking sexy, and he wanted to pick her up and carry her to his room and have his way with her. Or seeing that she was naked underneath the towel, he wanted to lift her up and just take her there against the wall. It would have been so easy to slide inside of her and just fuck her senseless. Neither of those scenarios was an option, obviously.

 Killian sits on the edge of his bed, sighing into his hands. As much as he pretends to and wishes he actually hated her, he’s unfortunately in love with her. After he found her in his kitchen wearing Liam’s shirt a year ago, he did everything he could to forget about her. He's tried sleeping with other women, he still tries that method, but it never bloody works. It only makes him wish those women were Emma. It makes him want her more. It makes him feel more lonely than he already is.

 Maybe he would've been able to forget about her if she hadn't kept showing up here. And it was bad enough when she and Liam had their sleepovers all the time, but then she moved in eight months ago because she was sick of living with her brother, and Liam was sick of not waking up next to Emma every morning. 

 Killian hates living here with Liam and Emma. He hates having to hear them fuck in the bedroom next to his; he hates having to hear them speak to each other like they’re so fucking in love. It makes him sick. 

 He hates having to witness every milestone in their relationship. He had to listen every time Liam went on about how he was falling for Emma and how she was his soulmate. He had to hear about it when Liam told him he had finally professed his love for her; he had to hear about it when Liam said he could no longer stand living without her, and how he wanted to ask her to move in with him. Liam sought Killian's approval, which he reluctantly gave, and had to hear about Emma’s reaction and how excited she was when she said yes.

 Killian’s had to listen to every conversation Liam and Emma have had when they’re all home at the same time, he’s had to watch them feed each other, he’s had to witness one of them going into the kitchen, grabbing a can of Reddi Whip and heading back to their room countless times. For the past year, he’s had a front-row seat to Liam’s and Emma’s relationship, and he’s hated every fucking second of it.

 In the beginning, Killian had hoped their relationship would be temporary. Emma had been cheated on, too, just like Liam, so they had that in common and it was something they bonded over in the beginning. Killian thought they both just needed to cleanse themselves from their cheating exes, and that they were using each other to do that, but nope. What they had in the beginning went beyond helping each other heal. And Killian can’t blame his brother for wanting something more with Emma. She’s the whole fucking package and Killian knows this just as well as Liam does. It’s the reason why Killian hasn’t been able to tame his feelings for her, even though he knows she’s completely off-limits. 

 He’s happy for Liam, he really is. He’s glad Liam found someone as amazing as Emma. He’s glad Liam is happy. He just wishes he’d never met her at the bar that night. He wishes he’d never set his sights on her so that maybe then he wouldn’t be pining for his brother’s girlfriend. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so head over heels for her. But then again, maybe he would still feel the same way about her, no matter how or when he met her.

 Maybe it’s his fault though. He knows his feelings for her would be so much easier to deal with if he didn’t live with her.

 There have been so many times he told himself he was finding another place to live, but at the end of the day, he talked himself out of it because why should he leave? This was his apartment long before Liam even met Emma. Hell, this was Killian’s apartment before Liam moved in with him. 

 Killian moved here after he graduated from high school and his first roommate wouldn’t leave after not paying his share of the rent for six months. Killian could have gone to court, filled out the paperwork and served him with an eviction notice, which would’ve given his roommate a month to move out. But Killian had another idea in mind that would speed up the process, and all he had to do was beg Liam to go along with it. He got the idea from watching an episode of Friends. The One Where Eddie Won't Go. Chandler couldn’t get his annoying, nut job of a roommate to leave, so when Eddie returns to the apartment the next day, the lock on the door has been changed, Chandler and Joey pretend they don’t know Eddie and they act as though Joey never left. 

 So Killian had something similar in mind. Liam showed up at his apartment and went into the roommate’s bedroom. Together, they gathered his things and started moving them to the front lawn. When the roommate returned later that day, the locks had been changed and Killian opened the door after he heard the incessant pounding and pretended he didn’t remember having another roommate besides his brother. When the guy refused to leave, Liam stood at the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and his intimidating height and size compared to the scrawny, short lad who stood in the hallway, finally left with his tail between his legs. 

 When Liam went back to his and his girlfriend’s flat that night, he walked in on her while she was banging some other guy in the bed they shared. Not wanting to be reminded of what he’d witnessed when he slept in his bed every night, he’s the one who left and never came back. Liam and Killian have lived together in this flat ever since then. And they never heard from Killian’s old roommate ever again.

 So, why should Killian be the one to leave? 

 Then again, if he stays, his feelings for Emma might become even more difficult to shake off. 

 Right, like he could shake them off. If he could, then he would’ve done that long ago.

 ~*~

 “Killian, can I talk to you for a moment?” Liam asks the next day when he steps into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. It’s Saturday, so neither of them is working, and Emma is out shopping with her sister-in-law.

 Killian’s carrying a mug of freshly brewed coffee as he leaves the kitchen, catching the serious expression on his brother's face and in his tone. He's a bit nervous if he’s being honest, certain Liam’s going to chew him out for shutting off Emma’s shower yesterday. Killian was out the door before Liam could say anything to his face about it. He supposes he deserves the lecture, though; he was kind of an arsehole to her. Okay, he was a huge arsehole. But she was being so loud. And yes, she has the voice of an angel, but it doesn't give her the right to wake up the entire apartment building. Prepared for an arse chewing, Killian raises his free hand in surrender. “I promise I didn’t see anything. I was only trying to get her to stop singing—”

 Liam shakes his head before Killian can finish, and drags a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. “That’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

 “Oh. Okay, what is it then?” Killian asks, noticing how nervous Liam appears to be.

 Liam motions to the living room, so they both head to the sofa and take a seat. He draws in a shaky breath and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a velvet box.

 Killian’s eyes widen in horror as he stares at the object. 

  No, please tell me that’s not what I think it is. Please, Liam. Don’t make it so.

 Killian gulps thickly, unable to remove his eyes from the box. He’s never prayed for anything in his entire twenty-three years of living on this earth, but right now he’s praying that whatever’s in that box is not a diamond ring.

 But judging by the smile cracking Liam’s lips, he already knows the words on his tongue before he speaks them. “I’m asking Emma to be my wife.”

  Heart meet dagger.

 Killian feels like the wind has just been knocked out of him, all of the air in the room suddenly gone.

 Liam cracks open the box, showing Killian the ring. It’s a princess cut diamond with a white-gold band. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

 Liam’s waiting for some sort of approval, but all Killian can do is stare at the ring and feel a stab of jealousy. He knows he should be happy and supportive, but he still can’t help but want Emma to be his and not his brother’s. He knows Liam deserves a woman like Emma, though, and she deserves someone like Liam. He’s a good man, and if Killian were forced to pick someone besides himself, he’d pick Liam every time. And if he had to pick someone for Liam, there's no doubt he’d pick her. But that doesn’t make this any less easy.

 Killian clears the frog from his throat. “It’s stunning,” he says with a smile, trying to keep his tone even. “It’s stunning, just like Emma.”

 “That’s exactly what I think too, little brother.” He blows out a wobbly breath. “I’m so bloody nervous about asking her to marry me. We’ve only been together for a year. Well, almost a year, but I know she’s the one for me, Killian. I know it deep in my bones. I’ve known since the night I met her.”

 Killian wants to say he knows the feeling. 

 How is it even possible he and Liam felt the exact same way about the exact same woman that exact same night? 

 She made her choice though, regardless of the chemistry between her and Killian.

 He also knows how Liam feels because, apart from that first week he and Emma were together, he hasn’t exactly kept Killian out of the loop. So Killian’s known every goddamn step of the way how Liam has felt about her. “How will you ask her?”

 “Well . . .” Liam runs his hand through his hair nervously and stares off into space, as though he’s playing the scenario in his head. “For our one-year anniversary, I want to have a picnic on the lake where we went on our first date. Which reminds me . . .” Liam looks at Killian, appearing a bit skittish about something, “I wanted to ask you if I can borrow your motorcycle.”

 Killian furrows his brows. “But you hate my bike. When I first got it, you kept telling me how dangerous it was, and when I taught you how to ride it, you said you never wanted to be on it again.”

 “I know… but I want this proposal to be special, and I always catch Emma staring at your bike whenever we’re getting into my car.”

 “You do?”

 “Aye. And she’s mentioned she’s never ridden a motorcycle before, so I wanted her to have that experience. I want to do something with her she might enjoy before I pop the big question, you know? So she doesn’t think I’ll be one of those vanilla husbands who doesn’t know how to have fun.”

 Killian’s heart clenches. How many times has he dreamt about taking Emma for a ride on his motorcycle? How many times has he dreamt of having her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight as they rode his bike? 

 “Then after we eat and have some wine, we’ll walk along the beach, and when the moment feels right, I’ll get down on one knee.”

 Killian swallows hard. The scenario Liam is painting sounds absolutely perfect, and he knows Emma will love it. He knows Emma’s not a grand gesture type of lass, and what Liam has planned is the perfect combination of grand and simple. 

 “So, what do you say, can I use it?” 

 When Killian witnesses the spark in Liam’s eyes, he can’t help but say, “Of course. You can use it for as long as you’d like.”

 “Thank you, Killian,” he says appreciatively, clasping his hands together as he leans forward and perches his elbows on his knees. “I also have another favor to ask of you.”

 Killian quirks a brow as he sets his mug on the coffee table. “I’m afraid to ask.” He laughs, but he actually is afraid to ask.

 Liam chuckles. “Relax, I only wanted to ask if you’d be my best man. You’re not only my brother . . .” his face grows serious as he looks Killian dead in the eyes, “you’re my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine anyone else standing up there beside me as I marry the woman of my dreams. I imagine it’ll take a while to plan the wedding, and the earliest it would be is next year, but—” 

 “I’d be honored,” Killian cuts him off, swallowing hard. It feels like Liam just drove the dagger deeper into his chest. 

 As honored as he is for Liam to ask him to be his best man, he can’t stand at the altar and watch the woman of his dreams marry his brother. He just can’t. But he can’t possibly tell Liam that. 

 A big grin overtakes Liam’s face as he pulls Killian in for a big hug. 

 “I’m happy for you,” Killian expresses hoarsely, trying to ignore how crushed he feels. “You deserve it, brother,” he says genuinely. 

 “Thank you, Killian. That means a lot,” Liam says as they break the hug. “Now just hope I can grow some balls to get down on one knee, and pray she says yes.” 

 “She’ll say yes, I know she will, Liam,” he says sincerely, patting his brother on the shoulder. He knows deep down Liam and Emma are perfect for each other, no matter how much he wants to deny it.

 “You really think so?” Liam is asking hopefully. 

 And right now, Killian can’t help but smile. If Liam were proposing to any other woman, Killian would be so bloody happy for him. So he shoves away the fact that it’s Emma they’re talking about so he can just be there for his brother like Liam needs him to be. “Aye. There is no one more perfect for you than her.”

 Liam grins from ear to ear. “At least we can agree on one thing,” he chuckles. “I love her so bloody much.” His face suddenly clouds with something Killian can’t quite put his finger on, and once again, Liam appears to be nervous. “That brings me to the final thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

 “Okay,” Killian gulps. He has a bad feeling about what the next thing might be, though it can’t possibly be worse than telling him he’s proposing to the same woman Killian’s completely in love with or asking Killian to stand beside Liam as he watches Emma marry someone else.

 “I need you to be nice to Emma,” he says in a condemning tone. “She thinks you hate her.”

 Guilt clenches Killian’s heart, and as much as he knows he should be nice to the woman who will be Liam’s future wife, he knows agreeing to be nice to Emma is like agreeing to jump into quicksand.

 For the past year, Killian’s had to pretend to hate Emma because he knows if he and Emma end up becoming friends, then he’ll be tempted to act on his feelings for her, and he can’t let that happen. He can’t do that to Liam. So, there’s only one other option.

 Killian has to move out, and he needs to move out soon. Until that happens, he has to throw on a smile and pretend everything is hunky-dory. “I don’t hate her,” he manages, trying to shove all of his emotions down his throat. 

 “Good, then act like it. If she says yes when I propose, she’ll be your sister-in-law soon, so get used to that idea.”

 Killian tears his gaze from Liam, unable to look at his brother right now. He feels like his ears are bleeding. Like his heart is bleeding. Liam has no idea how much his words just gutted him. He could never get used to being Emma’s . . .

 No, he can’t even think about the idea. He could never consider Emma as his sister-in-law, and there’s no way he could ever be a brother figure to her. There’s just no bloody way. He’s wanked off while thinking about her for crying out fucking loud.

 “You don’t have to worry, I promise I’ll be nicer to Emma.” Even as Killian makes the promise, he can feel himself being pulled in by the quicksand.

 “Thank you, Killian.”

 When they stand, Killian tells him he’s going to the gym. He needs to relieve some of the pain bubbling inside his chest and figure out how the bloody hell he’s going to win this internal battle inside him, or if he ever will. He should have seen this coming though. He knows Liam has been serious about Emma from the beginning.

 He changes into his gym clothes, and once the cool breeze hits his face, once Liam is no longer near him, he can finally breathe, but even then, the surrounding air feels paper-thin. He’s barely able to suck in enough oxygen to make his heart not feel so heavy.

 He puts on his helmet and hops on his bike, driving out of the parking lot and trying to figure out how the bloody hell to get out of this predicament.

 As much as he loves Liam, he can’t fucking do this. Any of it. He can’t be Liam’s best man, he can’t give a best man speech and tell everyone how bloody happy he is for the bride and groom while he’ll actually be dying inside. He can’t live with them for one more bloody second, and he sure as hell can’t be her brother-in-law.

 Which leaves Killian with only one choice.

 He needs to get out of Storybrooke. And he needs to get out soon.

  Tagging people who have shown interest. Let me know if you would like to be added or if I missed you. @itsfabianadocarmo @resident-of-storybrooke @snowbellewells @onceuponaprincessworld @viajandosinalas @teamhook @captainswan-shipper88 @jamif​ @katielovesstarcrossedlovers @uhthreeyuh @lfh1226-linda @babyyouremyqueen @sthonour @julesep3026 @fairytalewhispersinmyheart @andiirivera @wefoundloveunderthelight @wickedsw4n @eleveneitherway @eherron14 @ouatpost @transparentclodsludgeweasel @stahlop​

[brideofcthulhu10]

The Lost Boys Find Out Their Fem!S/O is Pregnant [4/4]

SUBJECT WARNING: PHYSICAL AGRESSION, SEXUAL THEMES AND A WHOLE LOT OF SWEARING. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

Alrighty then, my lovely fang babes! Here we are, we have the last of the first edition of the pregnancy saga! Worry not, dearest readers, for there is hope! I plan on doing a separate series about going through the pregnancy, and maybe even going through the childbirth with how the boys are as new dads. Let me know in the comments if you'd like to see more, and by tomorrow night we'll have a whole new set to love!

It was such a blast writing Paul's, I'm not gonna lie I got lost in the magic! We have a cute little character cameo for all you 80s movie nerds, lemme know if you can figure out what it is! So, without any more delays; here he is. The gorgeous, the goofy, the one, the only:

PAUL

Today had been an unexpected challenge. You barely got through your shift at the record store, every time you were in light it made you dizzy. Hangovers had nothing on this! Did you drink too much the night before? No, now that you thought about it any attempts to drink had you hugging a toilet. Not to mention your period was late as hell! Well, not the cramps, go figure. Just no blood. None at all. 

You never let on to your beau, Paul, though. The party boy vampire would become overly worried if you told him you were sick, and you weren't about to spoil a good time with a bit of nausea. So here you were, stumbling about the day into the late afternoon absolutely miserable. Your manager Iona offered you some crackers and ginger ale during your lunch break. No dice, within an hour you were running to the bathroom again. 

"Gosh hon, I dunno what ta tell ya. Maybe you ate something nasty, I told you that boardwalk food was fishy," Iona sighed, poking at her own lunch with a fork. Currently your coworker Andie was watching the front until you were feeling better.

"Kill me now, Iona," you groaned, chin resting on the table with your arms laid over your head. Then there was a smell. The greatest, most flavorful, mouthwatering scent you've ever experienced. Like a honey baked ham and a New York sirloin had a glorious new baby drizzled in ecstasy. Glancing over, your stomach growled at whatever it could be. If this were a cartoon you'd be flying to what it was.

Oddly enough, it was coming from Iona. Well, whatever black stuff was in her little plastic tupperware dish. Who cares what it was, it smelled incredible.

"Hey uh..," you asked, leaning over towards the sticky, mysterious delicacy calling your name. "You wouldn't mind if I had a bite, would ya?"

"You sure, hon? This isn't exactly your average dish, it's kinda weird," she tried to explain. God you couldn't take your eyes off it! Finally, your merciful manager pushed it your way, and you couldn't resist any longer. 

"I don't even care, this is the first thing in the past two days that hasn't made me nauseous," you muffled between cosmic bites.

Oh shit, this was heaven! It had to be some sort of meat, it reminded her of a nice spicy kielbasa, a slow roasted brisket, every second it changed to some new world of food you had never tried. What it was didn't matter by this point.

"Wooow. I've never met someone who liked black pudding that much."

Pudding? "I thought it was meat or something? It doesn't taste anything like pudding," you insisted, polishing off the very last specs of it. "Got any more?"

"No, no, not like chocolate pudding or stuff like that, kiddo. black pudding. It's this dish from the UK my new boyfriend made me. It's congealed pig's and cow blood mixed with spices."

You made a face. Blood? Like, blood blood? The cow equivalent of what Paul drank on a daily basis? Yet this was the first time you didn't puke, in fact, you kinda wanted more. Even knowing what is was made of.. for some reason you craved more. Meanwhile Iona continued to talk on and on, until one phrase caught your ears. "Yea, ya know my mom was so into for the longest time. Said she craved it her whole pregnancy, I never got a taste for it honestly."

A single thought popped into your head. A dangerous, foreboding thought that your intuition said was very much a possibility. In a flash you jumped up, nearly slamming your hands on the table. "I gotta go. Oh shit, I gotta go! I'll be right back, I swear, I'm so sorry, I swear to god I'll be right back," you shouted as you bolted out of the store.

"Wait what-?!"

You'd make it up to her once you got back. You had to know! You had to be sure..! Please just let it be paranoia! Please let it be anything, anything at all besides what you thought it was!

Once you reached the nearest CVS you made a B-line to the women's health section. Your hair clung to your face, your lungs stung like crazy but all you could think about was getting answers. And cue the disapproving glare of some old bat picking out a box of pads. Alright being 17 in front of the pregnancy tests looked bad. You weren't just a high schooler, you looked it too. "What're you looking at, " you snarl. Immediately she clutched her pearls, startled by this abrasive youngin' in no mood for dirty looks. God why'd there have to be so many options? Pink boxes, purple ones, bright yellow insisting it worked the fastest. The heavy fluorescent lights were no help at all, it made your head spin. You had no time for this crap. In a sweeping motion you grabbed three different brands and threw them into your basket, all you needed was….where was your wallet? Shit... Glancing around you checked for any nearby cameras or staff. Karma be damned, it was an emergency! Five finger discount it was. 

Once again you made a mad dash back to the record store as the sun finally set. All three boxes were crumpled in your hand, your boots running so fast it you hit a rock that'd be it.

But getting back to the record store was your best bet. You weren't about to pee in some dirty, old, nasty pharmacy bathroo- oh fuck. There was something that finally slowed your steps, nearly making you trip in the process. Four bikes parked right outside. Three of which were occupied by by Dwayne, David and Marko all talking amongst themselves.

Shiiiit, shit, shit! All you could do was swear repeatedly. Before they could spot you, you practically dove into the alleyway behind the store, rapidly disabling the alarm. If that went off it'd be a dead giveaway. Quickly you looked left and right before you slammed the door shut behind you still trying to catch air.

But there, right past the door to the employees lounge, over by the counter you could see a mass of blonde hair chatting away with Iona about Led Zeppelin's best album to date. Paul, gorgeous as every, laughing. It made your heart flutter, but then it sank. What if it was a-... He was never the type to run away from a challenge. But then again, a kid wasn't a challenge, it was a massive ordeal. It would take a huge chunk of his life- well, afterlife! Boozing and cruising would be switched out with drowsy days and busy nights. You weren't sure if you wanted him to know if you were, it would take all that from him. Unfortunately, he must've smelled you or sonething, because immediately he turned around like a puppy being called.

"Babe," he cheered with delight, rushing over to hug you. Rather squeeze you by your hips and lift you four feet off the ground. Quickly you stuffed the skinny boxes into your back pocket, now smushed up against his chest. "Where were you? Ion's said you just bolted mid-shift, we were worried sick! Well, I mean, I was more worried though, cuz I can't stand you bein' gone, kitten."

"Well, yeah uh, I forgot something I had to get at the store, and I forgot what time I got off," you hesitated, still antsy to escape to the bathroom. Truthfully you didn't actually want to, you had to! If you could, you'd just kiss him and ride off into the night to raise some hell like you always did. But this was too big to ignore.

Paul raised a brow. You weren't known for being this jumpy. You wouldn't look him in the eyes, they just kept darting towards the bathroom. Boy, you really did look sick, though. Pale, almost greenish with dark circles under your eyes. You even felt colder than usual. "Am I uh, interrupting something, babe?"

You managed to work out if his arms, giggling nervously. "Actually I-I had some of Iona's lunch earlier, and I just, gotta- be right back!"

With that, you bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you. Again, weird. Paul just shrugged, maybe you had some bad Mexican.

 Iona wasn't convinced. Little miss jumpy-pants skipping out on her, you owed her an explanation. While Paul perused the albums she sunk over to the bathroom, rapidly tapping on the door. "Y/N! Psst! You good in there, hon?"

You were most certainly NOT good! Your hand shook, the third test finally finished. Not like it mattered! They all said the same thing. Every fucking one of them.

Positive. Positive. Positive.

No, no, no!

"Shit," you hissed. "Shit! Oh shit, oh fuck! Fuck-fuckity shit fuck fuck! Dammit." That's all you could do! You swore over, and over, and over, rapidly kicking the wall in front of you. Stupid pink plus! Why? Why did it have to be a plus?? Immediately you threw it in the trash and scooped up the other two. Maybe they were all flukes? Maybe only a doctor could tell you! You had to get home. Like now. Right now, you just had to rush home, make an appointment at the doctors, maybe hide in shame for a few days just until you could figure out what the hell to do with all this! Once again you wedged the tests in your back pocket and nearly tripped, cracking open the door to face your boss. "Iona, I gotta get home."

"Seriously, Y/N?? Why? What is with you?"

"Please, I swear I will make it up to you, I'll take a double shift, I'll wash your damn car-"

"Oh no, nuh-uh. Not until you tell me why you're being such a spaz," she practically shouted in a hissing whisper, absolutely exasperated. You teens and your drama, when she always said she wanted to fell young again this is NOT what she meant!  

"Listen i-... iyay amyay egnantpray," you whispered. Pig latin. It was a little code you two usually reserved for secrets. Well, that and talking smack about snotty customers. But wow was this a big ol' secret. 

Iona covered her mouth. Oh, you little idiot! You poor little idiot. Looking over at the unsuspecting boyfriend she sighed, looking you in the eyes. She wanted to just tell you to come clean to your man. The boy hung around you constantly, you two were the ultimate it-couple, there wasn't even sparks it was like watching supernovas. Something this big.. it shouldn't be left in the dark!

But that pitiful expression on your face just begged her to keep quiet, and frankly it wasn't her place to tell you what to do- well, at least in this regard. "Alright, alright. This saturday you're taking my night time shift, there's a big concert I wanna go to. And you gotta wax my car, it's gettin' nasty. And you better write the best damn apology note in the history of apology notes, sweetie. This is huge, you better come clean to him eventually, or I'll kick your little butt you hear me?"

"Yes. Absolutely, fine, deal. Just please, please keep him busy, I'm not ready to tell him," you whined, clutching the door. Frankly it sounded like a piss poor plan, but it couldn't be helped, not right now at least. You didn't have the strength to confront the situation head on, you were barely keeping it together. You wanted to cry all over, jump into his arms and come clean now, but this was neither the time or place.

As soon as Iona went to go over to Paul you stuffed the tests into your purse and bolted out the back door, only this time stealth was not on your side. Right at the mouth of the alleyway, just as you were about to be home free- you ran smack dab into a particularly lithe blonde that felt like a brick wall. You went flying onto the ground, your purse crashing onto concrete with a hundred pieces of your privacy going every direction. In a panic you began to rapidly stuff it all back, barely able to hide the first two tests as you threw some half baked apology Marko's way. Honestly he deserved a better one than that, but you were too frazzled to be fair at the moment.

"Oh shit, Y/N," Marko exclaimed, immediately kneeling down to help you gather the scattered remains of your purse. "Sorry, I didn't even see you, I was coming back for a smoke. Big Ed is such a douche, can you believe theres no smoking on the-..." His words trailed off, and you shortly saw why. Grasped between his pointer finger and thumb was the little pink strip, and a look of complete disbelief. All you could do was snatch it from him, a heavy moment of silence magically muffling the wild noise and shouts of the busy boardwalk. 

"Do...D-Don't worry about it. Look, I gotta get home, I'll see you arou-," you started, trying to jump up, maybe catch him off guard and make a run for it. Not this time. 

You hadn't even noticed he grabbed your wrist, it was such a blur. He stayed silent, standing up and looking right into your eyes with hidden malcontent. You swore if you answered wrong this mischievous cat would tear your throat out. After all, you were his best friend's girl. If you did anything, ANYTHING, to hurt him... Well, let's just say a pregnancy would be the least of your worries. "Why are you running, Y/N? What the hell is this thing," he asked quietly, eyes flickering between red and blue. "Did you…?"

"Oh don't fuckin' even," You snapped, smacking his arm, yanking your hand out of his grasp. "Of course not! You butt! God, are you serious? What do you take me for- No! I- fuck I just- no!" You kick the tin trash can beside you, watching a plethora of trash fly into the air. "I am freaking out! Of course it's Paul's. Oh fucking god, it's Paul's and I don't know what to do!"

Marko's expression softened, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I didn't mean to make it sound like that, Y/N. Paul's my friend, I just had to be sure you weren't sneaking around, you know?"

You sighed, pushing back your mess of a hair with misty eyes. This was perfect, a real big screw up from start to finish. All you could do was look over at Marko with pleading eyes. "You can't tell him yet. Please, just please please PLEASE, Marko, don't tell Paul yet!"

"Tell me what, babe?"

Shit. Shit on a stick. You looked behind to see Paul halfway out the back door with a look of concern, one that he rarely carried. You and your dumb mouth, go figure.

The blonde pushed through and let the door close behind him, looking over at his best bud standing alone with his girlfriend who was begging him to keep something secret, from him no less.

 "Marko?"

"Nah, nah, don't look at me man, this is all on you guys," he sighed, hands up in a shielding motion. "Good luck buddy. Gotta go, Y/N." with that the young vampire excused himself from this melting pot of drama, hands stuffed in his pockets. 

You just stood there, keeping the little strip tightly grasped behind your back. Paul was silent, but glancing at his hands you saw they were balled so tight his knuckles were white. "P-paul…," you hesitated, biting down on your bottom lip. "I should really… get home.."

Paul only raised a brow, glancing at your arms still tucked behind you. This wasn't like you to hide from him, and that alone frightened him. Nothing had ever frightened him before. And he didn't like the taste of it one bit. "What's behind your back, babe?"

"What?"

Again his spoke, this time his voice lowered into a low growl. "What... do you have... behind your back, babe?" The way he said it was so firm, it made you shake a little. You didn't like stern Paul. They way he hissed the word "babe", practically spoken through clenched teeth

Your throat ached, eyes darting across the ground struggling to think up a good excuse. Anything. A book, your purse, a surprise for him! Anything!

"N-nothing." Apparently, you failed to find any excuses. Great.

Paul's knuckles began to crack, jumping forward to try and snatch it from behind you. When you dodged him, he grew even more furious. You both began to struggle, pushing him away, insisting he just stop and let you leave. But every attempt to reject him only upset him further. Why were you hiding things from him?! How could you just ditch him at the record store when he was worried sick about you??

The struggle built up until finally he had enough. His eyes turned white with rings of fire, brow looming heavily over his eyes and fangs jutting out where his incisors once were. In a flash he grabbed you by you wrists, pinning you so hard to the wall it shook. You still tried to struggle. Thrash, kick, squirm! Steel wished it could be so strong, your muscles ached. This probably wasn't even his full strength, but it dwarfed you in comparison. This terrifying side of Paul you had certainly seen before, but never had you been on the receiving end. It was in all sense of the word, predatorial. He'd never try to kill you, but you still felt that horror build up inside. Rapid, sharp breaths made your chest heave, too afraid to look up at those red eyes still fixated on whatever you kept hidden from him. He continued to pry your stubborn fingers open, ignoring your shaking whimpers. He squoze your wrist, the tendons aching and contracting until your fingertips began to lift up. Any resistance was pretty much useless at this point, but dammit you still tried everything to worm out of his grip. But he had finally had it, you weren't gonna be keeping secrets from him. Now your last finger was pushed off, and he could see what was so damn important that you physically fought him to keep it secret. It was almost slow motion the way the strip spun to the ground, clattering down and landing beside his mud caked boots. He froze, slowly looking down at it. That's it? That's all you-...

You could barely read his face, so many different emotions flashing across it all at once. Occasionally he'd look back up at you, then back down at it. To the point you almost got annoyed that you were still being stuck to a wall while the reality set in. After all, it didn't take a rocket scientist to know what that was, just put you down already!

Paul looked at you still pinned beneath him, horrified at how he lost his temper and immediately released you. Still rubbing away the pain across your wrists, you watched him pick it up. A wave of guilt swarmed your body, you didn't know whether to hug him or punt him in the chest.

Hell, a massive tidal wave of guilt overflowed him too. It'd been such a long time since he got that angry.. but worst of all he'd never been like that with you. Never grabbed you so forcefully and ignored your pleas, it was a dark side of him he never wanted to display in front of you. Glancing at the little pink plus at the end of the stick, his mind swirled with a plethora of questions. But slowly he stood up, looking down at you still really trying to process everything that had happened in the past few minutes. "I don't… I don't understand.."

"You- You are such an ass," you shouted out of nowhere, enough that it made him jump. There you were. That's the fiery girl he knew, not the one he exactly wanted to be on the opposing side of at the moment, though.

Paul wasn't surprised you were pissed, but he definitely didn't expect you to start punching his arm. Again. Then again, and again you just kept hiting his arms, his chest, pushing and crying, you were so mad you wanted to chuck him in the ocean! It didn't really hurt that much, but he felt awful he drove you to that point.

Tears blurred your vision as you lashed out on him. All you could do was yell names between sobs, even whack him with your purse. "Paul, you absolute jerk! Butt! Jackass! You smarmy, half wit, blood-sucking tool! You said you were packing blanks, you absolute liar! I was gonna tell yo-! I mean, I know I shouldn't have run-! But you just couldn't wait- and then Marko- and you! You ! Jerk ! Butthead !"

"Hey, ow! Ow! Ow, dammit! I know, I know I went to far-ow not the hair dammit," he demanded, grabbing your arms before you could lay another mighty blow. "Babe! Babe, stop! I thought I was! I swear I didn't know- I-..I never thought that I could get you...." His hands slowly released your shoulders, moving to your hips. "I'm so sorry, baby. I swear, I didn't know.. I'm so sorry."

The way his voice softened only made you want to cry more. This whole day was a mess. You didn't mean to try and run.. You never should've tried to in the first place. God, you were so tired. All this running around, all this secrecy, the fighting, it was exhausting. Paul was the last person you wanted to fight. Sure you had spats and a few heated arguments. Every couple did, even vampires. But this, it was just so.m draining. With a firm thud you plopped your forehead on his sternum, your fingers tightly clinging to the upper sleeves of his jacket. "Wh-what am I supposed to do-… what are we supposed to do now..?"

Paul pondered his options with a solemn face, but there was only one that made him happy. Only one that sat right in his heart. What else could he possibly do, there was only ever going to be one answer even if you told him right away. Most of all, he couldn't stand the sorrow in your eyes. A frown never suited such a beautiful face. He never expected there to be anything to come from your heavy sexcapades, it never seemed like there was any risks in it. He'd never seen a vampire munchkin, least of all he'd never even heard of a vamp conceiving with a human. All he knew now is you, crying in his arms, terrified of what you were carrying. What it could mean. In that moment, he steeled his resolve and came to a final decision.

Silently he tilted your chin up, using his thumb to brush away all those tears staining your cheeks. Those blue eyes, you could get lost in them. Swallowed up by the sea. It wasn't hard to read his mind when he held onto your hip with one hand, while the other that pushed away salty droplets now cupped your cheek. Within moments you crashed your mouth into his, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

Warm. A surge of heat filled your body. It was the first time you felt truly alive all day. You could feel your chest heave against his, you didn't want any space between the two of you and only pressed tighter until there wasn't anything left. Each kiss gave momentary breath before you dove in for more. Neither of you could stop. You didn't want to pull away, not even for a split second. The way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way he touched you, the way he felt beneath your fingers; it made your head spin. His hands began to wander, you clutched at anything you could get a hold of. Your body burned, so sweet and long. In those moments the world stopped, it just melted away in streams of light. No one was there but you two. 

It was over too soon, both of you rapidly panting for breath still intertwined. Oh, how you could stare into his eyes forever.

That frown was long gone, replaced by a tender smile. The one he had come to cherish. Paul chuckled softly, breathlessly nuzzling against your collar bone. Slowly he leaned in close to your ear, his disheveled blonde hair brushing up against your cheeks. Lips trailed up flesh, reavhing just beneath your ear. And then you heard those three forbidden words. Such sweet, tender words, you hadn't expected him to say. Although he whispered them so softly they might have gotten lost in the wind, to you they were as clear as the moon on a cloudless night.

"Y/N.... I love you."

It made your heart throb, you thought you might even faint. A lifetime of struggles led up to this beautiful moment. You never expected it to be a half-undressed heavy make out session with your vampire lover, the father of your unborn spawn, in the back alley of a record store on the Santa Carla Boardwalk. But here you were, nestled between him and an old brick wall. Paul loved you, he had said it, he finally said those words that could destroy any doubt you had. And more than anything in the whole wide world, you knew once and for all, you loved Paul.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Too Smart for Your Own Good: Part 5

Pairings: Machine Gun Kelly x Reader, (Past and Future) Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, PTSD 

Word Count: 4,758

A/N: Doesn’t have a completed end yet, but just giving you more content to try to get myself out of a writing funk.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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

You should have been doing your last minute research on baby products to get your shopping done before the start of your third trimester, but your relaxing beach study session was welcomingly interrupted within a matter of minutes.

“You are a terrible person.” You muttered as Henry dropped a large duffle bag of work out equipment beside you.

“Like your tan.” He started as he pulled off his tank top and dropped it on your lap. “Muscles need work. You want me to be healthy, don’t you?”

“I want you to stop distracting me with the sexy.” You laughed as you locked the screen of your phone and dropped it in the cup holder of your beach chair.

“Oh, perfect.” He said as he unzipped his old work out bag, which hadn’t seen the light of day in years. “You can help.”

“You’re impossible.” You huffed with a smile as you held out your hand for whatever he was going to hand you. “What am I doing?”

“You are simply keeping me company.” He replied with a heart melting smile. “I miss your company.”

“Well you are not alone there.” He bent over long enough to give you a chaste kiss before he got to work. “Sooo… I’m assuming I’m allowed to ask questions… about over there.”

“You are.” He confirmed as he started with a slow stretch that momentarily made you forget all about your questions. A small smirk pulled at his lips as he looked up at you through his lashes while bending over to touch his toes. “Questions, my darling.”

“God, I fucking hate you.” You muttered as you bit your lip and rested your arm on the arm rest of your chair. His chuckle sent shivers up your spine as he twisted into a lunge, which made you simply want to die. “Fuck, how did you get so ripped over there? I mean, I’m absolutely not complaining at all, but… damn, baby.” His laugh blended perfectly with the waves crashing beside you as he switched sides in a different lunge.

“Well, we used what we had. The rusted metal beds made good weights, push up and sit ups worked too. Did a lot of boxing type work outs.” He shrugged and sat down in the sand in front of you to start. “Same things I do here just had a lot more time. Feet.” You nodded and picked up your feet so he could put his under yours for the first few of many sets of sit ups. “Now may I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“How did you meet this baby daddy of yours?” You couldn’t stop your sigh, knowing that you would have to answer these questions some time, just not the day after he got home.

“His name is Colson.” You started as you pushed against his feet with yours to hold them down. “Or Kels… I call him Colson now. He’s some rapper, rock star that Ashleigh represents.” Henry stopped mid sit up and stared at you in shock.

“Darling… really? A rapper?”

“Shut up!” You squealed as you pushed his forehead so he would stop giving you that look. “Look, he needed a guitarist for a concert after his guitarist broke his arm and I was the only person Ash knew that could learn the music fast enough.”

“My little genius.” He said with a proud smile. “My little roadie genius.”

“God you’re impossible.” You laughed as you grabbed your water bottle and opened the top. “Look, I lasted six years, and had a momentary lapse of judgement. Sue me.”

“Does he know about her?” He asked as he sat up completely, tapped your calf to get you to move, and turned to the side at your feet to keep going.

“He knows. He’s showed up for appointments and wants to be in her life. He has another daughter who lives in Cleveland so she has a sister.” His head nodded the slightest bit as he started in on a variation of sit ups that incorporated his arms and legs.

“He know about me?”

“He does. He knows how we met…”

“Good ol’ Jersey Reds for the win.” Henry chuckled with a gorgeous smile.

“And he knows we are engaged. He knows I still love you.”

“Didn’t talk about me much, did you?” He asked with a hint of regret in his tone.

“No. I couldn’t.” He nodded his head and sat up in front of you with a small sigh.

“(Y/N), I’m…”

“Hey!” You sat up and looked over as Colson headed down the steps on the side of your house toward you. “Private property, dick head!”

“No, it’s OK.” You said as you got up and stepped over Henry’s legs. “We, um… we need to talk.”

“The fuck is this guy?” Kels asked as Henry watched on from a few feet back.

“That’s Henry.” You breathed as you crossed your arms over your chest. Colson’s face dropped from angry to speechless in less than a breath, and you nodded as you pushed your sunglasses on top of your head. “Kels, I’m sorry, it’s really complicated…”

“Nah.” He said with a shake of his head as he looked between you and your fiancé. “Not complicated at all. You said if he came back, you’d stay with him. Ain’t nothing complicated about that.” You nodded as he pulled a small box from the pocket of his jeans. “It was Casie’s when she was a baby. Emma found it in a yard sale and Cas used to listen to it every night before bed. She wants her sister to have it…”

“Oh, Colson.” You breathed as you pulled a small music box that resembled a record player from the box. You smiled and turned the little crank as Colson reached out and opened the top. ‘Let It Be’ started playing sweetly and you smiled and held the music box down by your stomach for your little girl. “Thank you. And tell Casie thank you as well. Hey, come meet Henry…”

“Nah. It’s all good.” He said with a sweep of his hand as he put his hands in his pants pockets. “Just dropped by to let you know I was back and to give you that. I’ll meet him eventually. I’ll see you ‘round, (Y/N). Welcome back, my guy.” You sighed as the father of your child turned to walk away at the same time Henry gently touched your back to come over to introduce himself.

“Guess he doesn’t wanna meet me?” Henry asked, making you shake your head.

“I think it will just take some time…”

“What drugs is he on?” A loud sigh left your lips as you leaned into his side and watched Kels disappear around the side of the house. 

“That I don’t know. The little time I spent with him for the concert, I saw a lot of weed and coke. Alcohol in the masses. But every other time he’s been sober-adjacent…”

“Sober-adjacent.” Henry mutter under his breath with a shake of his head. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I’m aware of the man’s life choices, baby.” You said as you closed the now silent music box and put it back into the box. You looked up at the empty staircase with a shake of your head before looking up at Henry with a small smile. “Don’t worry so much, sweetheart. That’s my job.”

“And worrying about you is mine.” He reminded you as he turned you back toward your chair. “And I’ve obviously been off my game for you to have thought that mess was a good idea.”

“Oh God, Henry.” You laughed as you sat down and pushed your sunglasses back into place. “That’s the father of my child and you will be nice.”

“I will be nice.” He said in a slightly mocking tone as he tapped your calves to stand on his feet again. “Just for my girls.”

“Mmmm… I like the sound of that.”

——

“So, when should I start planning our trip to London?” You asked gently as you walked into your pool after a long day of hanging out on the beach, catching up your fiancé on the last six years of your life, and reminiscing about the past. Henry looked over at you as he set his workout bag, and your chairs against the wall, and cocked his eyebrow.

“Why…”

“Because I know you, Henry.” You laughed as you sank down into the cool water. “Because I know, your first stop was my house, and I know you haven’t called your mother, because I would have heard from her…”

“You still talk to my mother?” You sighed and shook your head.

“I did for a year. I umm…” You bit your lip for a moment and shrugged the slightest bit as he came over and picked you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. “We talked every single day, going over and over why you would disappear on us without a word. And when it hit the one year anniversary of radio silence, I walked away, because I didn’t want to keep reliving it. So now your mother hates me, because I went radio silent on her too. So if you had called her, she would have wanted to talk to me, probably to yell…”

“Oh, you know my mother well enough to know that she doesn’t hate anyone.”

“Well if she finds out that you are back, and you didn’t tell her, she’ll hate you, especially since your birthday is in three days. And she’ll keep hating me when she finds out that I haven’t told her. OH! And let’s not forget her hating me being pregnant…”

“OK, so we’re going to London.” He interrupted with a smile. “So no one hates you. Now when…?”

“I can get us on a red eye tonight.” You said as you poured water from your palms on the back of his head so you could run your fingers through it. “Just have to text Negan and the sperm donor first.”

“Why would you need to tell him?”

“Verbal contract.” You told him as you glanced down at your barely five months along bump. “Can’t leave the county with the baby without the other person knowing, because you can bet your ass, the first time he tries to take my child out of LA, I will send the club after him. And I can’t expect him to do that and not follow the same rules myself.”

“God, I forgot you were my little moral compass.” He cooed as he kissed you gently. “Such a goody goody…”

“Just remember that I finally know where you sleep now…” You replied in a sing song voice as you leaned back in the water to rinse your hair out. “And I may be small, but I am mighty.”

“Fuck… how could I have ever left the sexiest woman in the entire world?”

“You just forgot the sexiness amidst the camouflage and manly bearded men.” You laughed as you sat up and cupped his jaw. “Wanna grab a small bite before we go? We can even take the Charger which yes, I kept and yes, I frequently maintained.”

“Pretty sure my license is expired but I’m also pretty sure being a prisoner of war will excuse that.” You rolled your eyes and kissed him again before forcing yourself out of his arms to go get ready for your last minute trip. You were glad that you had kept Henry’s clothes and belongings right where he had left them, no matter how many nights it had caused you heartbreak to see them, because it made it so much easier for him to slip back into his life now that he was back. 

It didn’t take long for either of you to pack- him because he was always a light packer, and you because you knew exactly what you needed, and where it was located to travel to see your future in-laws. The call to Negan lasted all of two minutes so he got the where and why from you, and could make the request that you kept him posted while you were gone, and to let him know when you would be back, which was a typical call to your father when he was busy with the club. But getting a hold of Colson proved to be a little harder.

“Darling, we’re getting ready to take off.” Henry said softly as you dialed Colson’s number for the thirty-seventh time.

“OK, you know as well as I do that this will bug me the entire flight if I don’t get a response from him. Colson, last chance. I’m going to London and don’t know when I’ll be back. Can you fucking acknowledge my existence for thirty seconds and text me back or something already?!”

“You worry to much, my love.” Your fiancé sighed on the other side of the lowered partition separating your two first class seats.

“Yes, well it’s not just my child, sweetheart. And I made this damn rule to begin with and I’d also be livid if he only left one message.”

“I know, my love.” He placated as he handed you the blanket you liked to travel with because you always got super cold on planes. “But we both know he’s probably off galavanting with the homies, or some other shenanigans or tomfoolery at this hour on a Friday night.”

“Did you just say shenanigans AND tomfoolery in the same sentence?!” You laughed as you put your phone in airplane mode and set it aside for the time being. “Who even uses those words?”

“I do.” He chuckled as he took the beer he had asked for from the stewardess. “Because it makes you smile.”

“Aww, how cute!” You teased. “I forgot how sappy you can be.”

“And here I am to remind you.” He laughed as he reached through the pass through to brush his thumb across your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You replied as you kissed his palm. “Am I am so glad you’re finally home where you belong.”

——

“Think she’s going to be mad?” Henry asked as he parked your rental car in front of his parent’s house.

“No, baby.” You soothed. “She is going to be so happy you’re alive and safe, she won’t even care that any time has passed.” He nodded and glanced up at the house through the rain with a heaved sigh.

“Alright, let’s go. I’ll come back out for our bags if we’re staying here.” With a nod, you braced yourself for the cold rain, threw open the door, and ran around the car. Marianne had changed her garden so much since the last time you had seen it, and you absolutely loved what she had done with it, but that idea was fleeting as you stepped under to the quaint cottage’s awning. You purposely gave your fiancé no time to think, you simply knocked on the door and gently pushed him forward so he was front and center.

“... in the bloody rain...” Was all his father, Colin could get out when he looked up at his fourth son in shock.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Oh, praise the Lord. Marianne! Come in, come in. Get out of the cold. Marianne!” You smiled to yourself and stepped just inside the door to be out of the way as your mother-in-law came around the corner from the kitchen, screamed, stumbled into the wall in disbelief, and then finally came over to touch her son.

“I must be dreamin’.” She gasped through her tears as she ran her fingertips across his cheek. “I must...”

“I’m here.” Henry said as he, too teared up. “I’m really here.” His mother started to sob and pulled him into her arms, giving his father room to hug the both of them as well. While they had their family moment, you checked in with Negan, and sent a message to Ashleigh to get to Colson, and didn’t look up until Marianne said your name.

“Let me take a look at you.” She sniffled as she came over and held you out at arms length. Her eyes trailed down to your stomach for only a moment before meeting yours again with a small smile. “I’m sorry I ran you off.”

“No, mum, never.” You breathed as she pulled you into her arms. “I just needed to try to move on…”

“And you did that?” She asked as she stepped back to look at your stomach again. 

“She’s… I didn’t want to be alone anymore. Dad was in prison, Henry was gone. So in a very poor lapse of judgement on the other half of her genetics, I made a choice. And now I have her, and my father out of prison, and the love of my life back.”

“And the rest of your family, too.” She said with a smile as she pat your cheek. “You have always had us, whenever you were ready.” You nodded your head and closed your eyes for a moment with a content sigh. “Alright, you two go up and get settled. We’ve to call the boys. They’ll want to see you.”

“See if they’d like to do a late dinner.” You suggested with a smile. “So everyone can catch up… no, it’s my treat, I insist.”

“You both know you can’t tell her no.” Henry laughed as he took your rain jacket from you to hang up. 

“We’ll make the calls.” Colin said with a nod. “But we’ll pay.”

“Oh, Papa C, you know as well as I do I can out bribe the waiter for that tab with my stunning personality alone.”

“It’s only because she’s much, much more pretty.” Henry teased before dashing out the door to grab your bags with a laugh. 

“He is right, you know.” Marianne giggled as she picked up her cell to start making calls. “She is much more pretty.”

“Oh, not you, too.” Colin whined as he picked up his phone as well.

“I’m sorry, Papa C.” You joked as you moved out of the way for Henry and the first round of bags. “I should have stayed in LA to spare you my American looks.”

“And her way more annoying American sass.” Henry teased before running out into the rain to avoid your whack. 

“You two haven’t missed a beat, have you?” Marianne asked as she hung up with Charlie and looked up at you.

“In some ways, it’s like we haven’t…” You breathed as you looked out the open front door. “But he’s not my same Henry. I can see it in his eyes…”

“He just got back, sweetheart.” She said softly as she came over to watch her son as well. “And I can only imagine the horrors he’s seen. Give him time, (Y/N). And get him to talk about it. You’ll be the only one of us that can.” You nodded your head and smiled at the love of your life as he handed you his small duffle of both your things from the plane.

“You want first shower before dinner?” He asked as he closed the door behind him. “Since I just took mine running out for your bags.”

“Oh, you poor, unfortunate soul.” You teased as you headed up to the guest bedroom, while siblings were still being called to come over for reasons unknown to them for the time being. “And now you’re going to go from cold rain water to a cold shower since I’m going to purposely use all the hot water.”

“Guess I’m getting in with you then.” He growled softly into your ear as you stopped at the guest bedroom door.

“Oh, yes sir, soldier boy.”

——

There where very, very few decisions you had made in your life that you regretted, but suggesting dinner with Henry’s family after all he had been through was one of those few decisions. Despite how hard he tried to ignore the loud chatter of everyone deciding what they wanted to eat and asking him a million and one questions that he gave half answers to and pretended he was OK, you could feel how tense he was beside you. His hand movements were slightly jerky and he startled easily when the waiter came around for orders and to drop off drinks. You knew no one else but his mother noticed, and she kept shooting you looks, but you were more concerned with your fiancé than you were with her.

“Henry.” You said softly when the plates were starting to be served. He looked over at you, but almost completely through you, making your brow furrow in concern. “Sweetheart…” You both startled when one of his younger nieces he hadn’t gotten to ever meet before dropped her water glass on the table, hitting every single piece of metal silverware and the glass plates around her, and you could see the terror flash in his eyes.

“Hey, shhh.” You whispered softly as you gently laid one hand on his cheek and held on to one of his tightly clenched fists with the other. “Hey, you’re here with me.”

“Hey, what’s…?”

“No, leave him alone.” His oldest brother, Piers said before his mom could reach out for her son. “Let her. She’ll get through to him.”

“What’s going on?” His brother, Simon called out from halfway down the table as everyone turned to stare at the pair of you. 

“Well he’s obviously he’s having a melt down. Been in the bat cave just a little too long.” Charlie said slightly jokingly, which made Henry tense up even more.

“Leave him alone!” Marianne barked at her sons as you tried to bring your fiancé back down to Earth. “He has been through hell and back and you lot aren’t helping!”

“Just let her do her thing.” Niki said as he picked up his fork and knife to start eating. “She’s the only one of us that can pull him out of this, and they don’t need us staring at them while they do it.”

“Sweetheart, come back to me.” You said softly as you pulled his hand toward you and gently placed it on your daughter. “The little squirm bug is moving around again. Think you could tell me if you can feel her yet? She is your future step daughter after all.” You watched the blue in his eyes shift in shade as he finally focused on your face and not looking through it.

“What?”

“She. Is. Your. Step daughter.” You repeated as you used your fingers to uncurl his fist. “I mean, you’re the one that moved the ring back in place, you should have realized that gave you a second title, Daddy.” He smiled and started to tear up as you tilted your head to the side. “You didn’t realize that until just now, did you?”

“No.” Your smile grew as you nodded your head.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about the noise. So we can get outta here now, or we can hold out for a bit. Either way, I’m about thirty seconds from digging into this filet with either proper silverware or my hands, I don’t care. And there’s like four desserts your child wants after, so you have to spilt those with me, too.”

“I think I can do that.” He agreed as he rubbed your stomach, letting it be something beautiful for him to hold on to for the time being.

“So we’ll stay here? Hang out until you get overwhelmed again? Then we’ll just call it a night, order our desserts to go, and finish them in bed in your mother’s house, leaving our smudgy chocolate fingerprints behind like the grown up children we are.” He nodded his head and reached out to squeeze your thigh.

“Thank you.” With a nod, you pat his cheek, and gave him a chaste kiss.

“Can I eat my thirty dollar steak now? With the garlic and herb butter glaze, and the parmesan mashed potatoes, and the cute little baby salad… oh.” You laughed when your stomach growled. “See, interrupting your kid’s meal schedule. Bad step-Daddy.”

“OK, let’s eat.” He said as he took a deep breath and turned back to the table. “My apologies.”

“Don’t apologize.” Marianne said as she reached over and pat her son’s hand. “What do you need from us, dear?” Henry shrugged and you glanced over at him before smiling at the rest of his family.

“Let’s not rapid fire questions?” You suggested, hesitantly. “Just enjoy the fact that we have our Henry back. We can delve deeper into it all in time. We have lots of it now.”

“To having Henry back.” Colin said as he picked up and held out his wine glass.

“To having Henry back.”

——

After dinner that night, you bought and read every book, and article you could find on post-traumatic stress, and how to handle it. You helped play the middle man when his brothers all stopped by, one at a time, in those next few days; spending an equal amount of time catching them up on your life as well, so that Henry was able to just get up and walk away if and when he needed it. Everyone was more than willing to follow your suggestions, since you were able to read up on it as fast as you could, and they also turned their jokes from being a prisoner of war to being a future parent instead, giving him wild, and teasing parenting advice just so he’d have something else to think about.

Henry’s birthday came and went, with a simple meal with just his parents. It was peaceful, and full of only a televised rugby match, and an ordered in meal. You knew Marianne was concerned every minute of the day as she, like you, watched her son, finally seeing what you meant by ‘it’s him but not’. 

“Do you think he needs to see someone?” She whispered to you as you helped her wash and dry dishes, while the men watched the game.

“He does.” You confirmed with a nod. “But that will be on his time. I can make the suggestion, but he won’t go until he’s ready.” She sighed, solemnly and stopped what she was doing for a moment to look back at her son, so you reached out and took her hand, gently. “We’ll get him back, mum. It’s just not going to happen over night. Give it time. He’s only been home a week.”

“I’m so glad he came to you first.” She said softly as she met your eyes. “I would have thought surrounding him with family would be the best thing...”

“It is... but it isn’t.” You breathed. “He just needs to find his spot in life again. For years, it’s been a war zone, with people yelling and screaming, with guns in his face being forced to help the people that were killing our soldiers against his will. And now he’s back and simply expected nothing of him. No purpose, no focus. It’s chaos to him, and every little thing brings him back to that. I’m not saying I know what’s best for him, because I don’t. I can’t even begin to make heads or tails of what I’ve read...”

“But you can steer him in the right direction.” She finished for you with tears in her eyes. “You are still the best thing that I could ever ask for my son.” You teared up with her as well and let her pull you into a short hug, before pulling away to go back to the dishes. “I think you should take him back home.” She breathed so softly, you barely heard her. “Back to the home he knew best before he left. Get him some help...”

“Is that what you really want?”

“I want what’s best for my son.” She said quickly as she handed you the last dish and turned off the water. “And you have always been that for him. You can understand all of this way better than any of us could, and he needs that right now. We’ll be here.” She finished on a whisper as she looked back out at her child. “We’ll be here... just take good care of him, alright?”

“You know I will.” You promised with a nod. “And I won’t ever stop again.”

Part 6

[elisela]

you’ve got my love to keep you warm buck x eddie, 1.8k, nsfw, vermont verse for @extasiswings who asked for: I want CUDDLES. Lazy winter mornings snuggling up in bed because it's too cold, there's too much snow, and no, the hot water bottle does not count to rectify these things, that's what husbands are for.

He wakes up to an empty bed, pushes himself up and immediately drops back down, burrowing deeper into the covers and pulls the thick duvet over his head. Fuck, the house is freezing, worse than normal. He doesn’t know where Buck has gone, mourns the loss of his body heat and sticks a hand out, groping around the nightstand for his phone.

Eddie: Cold hunky husband: Don’t look at your weather app Eddie: Stop changing your name in my phone and get up here hunky husband: u don’t think i’m hunky??? :(

He rolls his eyes, thumbs over to the weather app and curses.

Eddie: I’m moving to a beach in Mexico hunky husband: I told you not to look at the weather app, you big baby. hunky husband: Come downstairs Eddie: I’m not leaving this bed. Eddie: I’ll freeze to death.

He tosses the phone down at his side and tries to tuck the duvet around him more tightly, which works for all of a minute before it’s being yanked off him and he yelps, grabbing for it.

“Rise and shine, baby,” Buck says brightly.

He reaches out and grabs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Buck’s—shorts? What the fuck?—and pulling him down. “Fuck off and warm me up,” he says. “It’s five degrees outside, what the hell are you wearing?”

“If you’d ever exercise—” Buck twists away when Eddie pinches him. “Oh, just for that you’re not joining me in the shower,” he says, and laughs when Eddie scrambles off the bed after him.

He catches Buck around the waist and presses into him, resting his head against his shoulder blade and nuzzling in despite his damp, sweaty skin. Buck’s hands come up and rest on top of his; Eddie feels their wedding bands click together as Buck squeezes his hands. There are goosebumps on his skin, and his knees knock into the back of Buck’s legs as they shuffle towards the bathroom but he keeps holding on, not wanting to let him go. He hears the water running already, and when Buck gets the door open, they’re met with a wall of steam and Eddie sinks into the warmth.

“Genius,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to Buck’s bare skin. “This is why you’re the one with the degree.”

Buck’s chest rumbles as he laughs. “Yeah, that B.A. in Husband Pampering is really paying off.”

“Sure is,” Eddie says, stepping back to pull his clothes off. He rolls his eyes and gathers up the shorts and boxer briefs that Buck leaves in a pile on the floor, and tosses them into the laundry hamper before stepping into the shower and immediately wrapping his arms around Buck again. He hums and melts against him, twisting easily when Buck pivots so he’s under the spray. “Why’s it so fucking cold in this house?”

“Because when you got the heating bill last month you said you weren’t made of money and the co-op was bleeding you dry,” Buck says, and Eddie doesn’t have to look to see the smile on his face. “So I turned down the thermostat a few degrees.”

He pulls back at that, pushing Buck’s shoulder until he can look him in the eye. “You did what?”

“The co-op says that keeping that house at fifty-five degrees—“

“Fifty-five?” His mouth drops open—Buck’s heard him complain about the cold for seven years now, and he turns the temperature down to fucking fifty-five? “That’s hardly above freezing,” he says—says, not whines, because Eddie is thirty-five years old and he does not whine. “Get out and turn it up.”

Buck laughs and pulls him forward, and Eddie allows him because there’s not a chance in hell that he’ll ever willingly refuse being pressed against his husband, especially when Buck’s strong, extremely capable hands are wandering down his back, sending a different type of shiver down his spine as his fingers stroke gently against Eddie’s skin. “You can handle a little cold,” he says, “you’ve got my love to keep you warm,” and then he slaps Eddie’s ass and snorts.

“To think I was going to let you fuck me,” Eddie says, and Buck laughs helplessly against his shoulder. “You don’t get to now.”

“You’ll change your mind,” Buck says. “I have plans for you, me, and that rug in front of the fireplace tonight.”

“At least I won’t freeze to death,” he says, pressing forward and turning Buck into the wall—if he gets a certain pleasure at the hiss Buck lets out from being pressed against the cold tile, it’s only because he deserves the revenge. Buck’s fingers trail across the base of his spine, and Eddie pulls him closer, bites just below his ear before he whispers “if you keep me warm, maybe I won’t make you wait until tonight.”

He pulls back enough to see the way Buck’s eyes light up at the challenge and is not at all surprised when Buck pulls him in for a kiss, holding onto his hip with one hand and wrapping his other arm around Eddie’s waist to keep them close as he slides his leg in between Eddie’s. Eddie catches his bottom lip and bites down, rocking himself against Buck’s thigh and groaning, hands groping at his husband’s arms. Sometimes he’s still stunned at how badly he wants Buck, how quickly he can get to the edge with him, like the past several years of domesticity has disappeared and he’s back to seeing Evan Buckley standing shirtless in his backyard, watching the way sweat rolled down his chest and feeling the desperate need for relief.

And now that he’s thinking about that—

Buck’s short gasps are quiet against his mouth as Eddie reaches between them and strokes them together, breath coming faster as he rocks up into Eddie’s fist, his tongue sweeping across Eddie’s lips. Buck rests his forehead against Eddie’s, eyes dropped down, and Eddie knows he’s watching how they look together, gets a thrill from the way Buck pulls back and looks at him before he groans. “Baby,” Buck says, his breath hitching, “you’re so fucking hot.”

He shudders when Buck moves and presses his hands against the cold skin on his back where the water isn’t falling, and maybe it’s difference in temperature that throws his body into overdrive or maybe it’s the way Buck bites his neck before throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he comes with a gasp; either way, Eddie loses his balance a little and stumbles forward, groans when the head of his cock drags against Buck’s stomach, and follows him over.

He leans on Buck for a moment, tries to get his breathing under control before sliding a hand around his neck and pulling him down, and lets Buck kiss his shoulder before Eddie whispers into his ear, “baby, I’m so fucking cold.”

“You’re treating me like a child,” Eddie says—says, not pouts, because he is thirty-five years old and needs to save the pouting for when he really wants to get his way, say, when his husband and son are ganging up on him.

But this is not one of those times, so he just says it in a completely normal tone of voice.

“Maybe that’s because I can’t tell if it’s Eddie or Christopher begging me for something right now,” Buck says. “Eds, I swear, I just need to finish submitting these forms and I’ll go get your book. Or, you know, you could go get it.”

And leave his nest of blankets, curled up on the couch with his feet in his husband’s lap? “Or could you keep me warm like you promised.”

He knows Buck’s trying to keep his face neutral, but the corner of his mouth curves up for just a moment before he fights it back down. “I think you could make it up to the office and back,” Buck says. “Pretty sure your body heat will hold for that long.”

“Can’t risk it,” Eddie says, letting his body fall back onto the couch and picking his phone back up. “What do you want for lunch? Hen just dropped the boys off and says she’s stopping at Bobby’s on the way back and she can pick us up something if we want.”

“Just get two of whatever you want,” Buck says, and shakes his head when Eddie mutters about liver and onions. “Real nice,” he says. “Just for that, I’m not building the garage you want.”

“I’ve wanted a garage for seven years,” Eddie says, finishing the text to Hen and setting his phone on his stomach, “and every year you say okay, now you’ll build it. It’s not exactly a threat anymore.”

Buck pushes Eddie’s feet off his lap and stands up, laptop dangling from one hand. “Yes, but now I submitted the permits, so you’ll actually get it. Or you will if Hen doesn’t show up with liver and onions.” He leans down and kisses Eddie’s forehead before bounding up the stairs, and Eddie grabs his phone and unlocks it.

Eddie: Can you pick up chocolate cake from the bakery? Hen: Can you watch Denny on Friday night? Eddie: Definitely. Two slices? And that dark hot chocolate.

He takes a screenshot and sends it to Buck, hears the chime on his phone at the same time Buck comes clattering down the stairs, and despite Buck dropping onto the other end of the couch, his phone buzzes a moment later.

hunky husband: aww u do love me!

He waits for Buck to toss the book to him, but Buck just pats his lap and says, “c’mere, Eds,” and helps rearrange the blankets around him after he settles his head on Buck’s lap and turns his face in, almost pressing his nose against Buck’s stomach.

Buck reads to him, holding the book in one hand and rubbing the back of Eddie’s neck with the other, until Hen drops by with their food and stays long enough to tease Eddie about his aversion to the cold, and Buck turns on Say Yes to the Dress while they eat and indulge in Eddie’s favorite trashy television past time—making fun of people for choosing ugly wedding dresses.

He’s not sure how they end up on the “Hallmark Christmas Movies” category, but by the time the room is getting dark, Buck is sprawled out against him, sniffling suspiciously when a man wearing fatigues shows up to a school concert last minute, and Eddie doesn’t have the heart to tease him about it, just kisses his forehead and rubs his back slowly.

But as much as he loves his husband, he does not love overly sappy, poorly written Chrismas movies, so he reaches for the remote when the credit rolls and turns it off. The only light comes from the fireplace, which reminds him—

“Didn’t you have plans for you and me and that rug over there?” he asks, letting his fingers wander underneath Buck’s hoodie.

“Can wait,” Buck says, snuggling closer to him and tilting his head up; Eddie feels his lips against his neck, a soft kiss pressed into his skin. “I’m nice and warm right here.”

And surprisingly, despite the bitter cold outside, Eddie is too.

[denotday]

Maybel Rhodes: Protectress

Itchy arms. My armbumps bumps take over life and chew my head off like a black mother. Even the sleeves of this sweater craddle these potholes as an english muffin craddles butter. But I'm more than my bumps and I'd make a quip on Fergie, but I'm no Joan Rivers. I'm small, meager. At eighteen, trying to find myself, live my own life. Typical teen drama, boring narrative, sob story. bored already. But know what isn't boring? I like strawberry shortcake and cheeseless pizzas. I have hopes of becoming a journalist and actually leading a career as moreof a Clark Kent than a Mary Jane or whatever the fuck that bitch's name is. Mary Anne? That used to be the name of one of my teachers. Going off; just thinking these thoughts while skateboarding to highschool.

Stay on the sides, away from cars, on the sidewalk, not too close to the white kids. White kids mean white mess, white messes mean cops who sweep the streets and take all the black kids with them in the process. I'm not a racist, just a black kid trying to stay alive in white america. Thank god I'm a weak bitch, one who cries for black men, one who doesn't face real issues like projected aggression. I'm a butterfly, something that men swat away and don't care about until MeToo movements. Gotta be careful but not too careful, kind but not too kind, firm but not a bitch, bitch but not a faggot. faggots suck.

No one thinks to ask these questions, here this thoughts. They see a black woman, better yet, a black female child. Worse thing to live in a ghetto. Sike; I say that I'm black and in a ghetto and get sob points. Fucking racist. I'm skating to one of those Fresh Prince schools. Didn't move on up, I'm simply moving; parents are mid class well grounded and guess what? My parents are still together. Probably breaking up soon but still breaking barriors of broke baby daddies and black slutty whore mothers who don't believe in abortion.

That's humor in of itself. A black kid skates into a white neighborhood with white sidewalks and doesn't have a nigger daddy and nigger mommy. What can be said by those PTA suburban soccer moms who want to demonise me and my own? Or am I palatable and a token black?

Making good grades, going to class on time. Only thing is, I don't have any friends to call. Even if I had one of those top quality iPhone 411s, I still wouldn't want to burden myself with filling up those high-techy contact lists. It's all bullshit after all, just capitalistic bilge. Something to fill the void without actually trying to let the public know that the void they're filling chalks up to capitalism. But again, those little tangents? "What does this have to do with having friends?" Everything. I don't give a shit, I accept shit. I tell things like it is, speak with lisps or change it up by sounding like an oxford professor.Not going to just abandon stream of consciousness 'cause class just started. This aint sims 4 and life ain't something that can be controlled; sped up or slowed down for the sake of an other's pleasure. I'm learning about shit that I'll never use like economics. That's shit that the government gives the state to teach, a little but not enough for highschoolers to overwhelm the system and decide "fuck student loans".

Not too bad here, though. Not all just "fuck hyschool" and teenaged angst. I go to the library, read books, go on my computer, listening to some Biggie and MFDoom and Tribe. Guess I am a nigger. Nigger-me and my nigger music. Even tththough it's they inspiration for they cracker music. Hate on us enough to keep us down but keep us up enough to steal from us. Today I'm reading some teen dystopian fantasy novel that I don't feel inclined to share with you guys. And no, it's not Hunger Games. It's Gunger Hames, the cousin of the franchise. Whoops just gave ya'll the name sorry. Either way I'm into that. Idea of a not-so-distant-future; humans making mistakes that fuck up the planet---disregarding that fact long enough so that the white main character can get it on with someone from the other side. Modern day Romeo and Juliett.

End of lunch, going back to class. It's back to back all day; boring teen shit that nobody cares about. Raising hands, answering questions, not understanding anything by the end of the day. Getting by is my motto. Long enough to get an A in the class and be on those ivy league watchlists. Even if I have to bust my ass to pay for student loans. Leaving highschool after all that non-work---no friends to lie to, no one to walk with, just me and my skateboard. These white paths not dirtied by brown except for my dirt body moving at the speed that a skateboard will go. Shift right here and there. Move away from rocks so that I don't fall headfirst. It's good shit. Here and there there are stone pebbles, blunts from---ironically enough--- the white kids and sharp object that I can't identify. FUCK. I don't have time to move around it and I can't just run offf. My leg'll get cut by it. Gotta just build up enough speed to roll over. Rolling...rolling...here it comes. Crouch down, focus, focus, pump speed anddddd....it stops my speed and loosens one of my bearings. Now I gotta walk the rest of the way back to my white little house with a white picket fence. Man screw--haha pun---this object. I have to use my 20/20 vision to find some small silver bolt that'll practically blend in with this bright ass sidewalk. Fuck white America.

In a little patch of weeds growing like black fists raising in the air I see the bolt and the responsible party for tossing me off the board. I raise my foot to crush this sonnofabiscuit like a bug so that some white kid's bike tire doesn't get licked---mind you this should be considered community service---and I figure that I won't ruin my rubber soles on the glass, so I'll just pick it up and toss it into the sewer. I put the bolt in my sweatpants pocket to keep it safe. I bend over again to peer at the crack in the sidewalk that I'll punt to the other side of the street where the other half of the street lives. It has tribal markings on it and must be, gasp, an ancient arcane ruin that'll give me superpowers. Kidding, you dumb bitch. "Why am I talking to myself this way? Jeez, some self-improvement classes would be nice". It's a bracelet made of some sort of beads. Kindof pretty but caked up with dirt and sand like no-one's business. I'm no Rocket Racoon so I just leave it. Even if I felt that it was interesting enough, I'd have to clean it off and disinfect it. It would just ruin the material underneath. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Lemme stop; for real, in this white bread neighborhood, I might be able to get it appraised and pawn it off for some money or at the very least, see if it's worth keeping. I know; "this is the start of every horror movie", every tv show. I get it, but I'll cleanse the jewelry before wearing it. It's fine. It's fine. Hope it's fine. Jeez.

I put the bracelet in my other pocket away from the bolt and walk back home. The soles of my feet hit the white pavement and my feet move in the fashion of jubillee ferris wheels. Slowly rise in a circle, fall in perfect arch. Walking is divine poetry in of itself. Not too long now. A little further. Feels like the day is stretching. Still light outside and the summer-brink of fall--air is warming my rectum. "Oh god, what's with gays and their rectums". You know your g-spot is in your ass, men. It feels good for us too you know. Nice coolness for the butthole----rectum is for men, butthole is for women. I think. See? Not a Cliff Huxtable type; don't know everything. Not an Urkle. Conversations with myself like this are truly golden (ponyboy).

Fondle the silver piece, twist it in lock, get somewhere new. Novel design, simple concept. My rubber soles give me cat-walking abilities and I edge up the stairs. Hear shuffling downstairs in the kitchen. But the smell of musky forest wood with a hint of olive tells me that it's just my father. I'd announce my presence but this isn't a sitcom and I have a phone that I can use to text. Who talks nowadays?

On the table near the keyrack, I scoop into my pockets in search of the goods. The warm cotton touches the cool silver bolt. Set it aside to attach it to the skateboard later. "Why not now?" That'll be a problem for me to solve tomorrow. "Procrastination isn't good" Yeah I know. I've read the same 1990's health pamphlet that the health teachers give out. I hug my side to reach around for the other pocket. Same warmth, same feeling of comfort except...it's a new sensation. Hollow and porous. It's either bone carved into beads or plastic. Hope to...Well, not God, maybe I hope to goodness? Goodness? What am I? A preacher? Maybe that's why I like 16 year old boys. Anyway. It's too white over here for it to be bone. Unless it's some cracker who brought over some hoodoo shit and dropped it somewere. Great. Gonna burn some incense to cleanse it. Then gonna toss it somewhere so that it can't hurt anyone. Wait. It doesn't FEEL menacing. No darkness, no coldness, there's a comfort to be had. I don't see any visible engravings, no bite marks no arcane symbols. It may be safe. Just to be sure, I'm keeping it downstairs for it to curse someone else in the house. I rise up the stairs into the wide landing. Step, rise, step, rise, step, rise. Before I get to the top, I feel funny. Not sick funny or CURSED funny, but someone-is-in-my-presence funny. Strech my neck to look over my shoulder. Not too far to show interest but far enough to see what's going on---it's my dad handling the bracelet.

I whip my body around and I suppose this gives him a start.

"Hey, just got back from school. I'm pretty tired which is why I didn't want to talk. Found that bracelet in the sidewalk cracks before my skateboard broke. I wouldn't touch it if I were you. Don't know if it's cursed or not."

"Cursed? Bee, this is a genuine Sudanese artifact."

"Huh? When'd you turn into a archeologist? Or are you just nerding out about a 'special interest'"

"Har har. Nothing like that. This area used to be an auction town for slaves shipped from Sudan. Martinsville, Pennsylvania wasn't necessarily known for it's 'clean hands' you know. Gentrification made the area look nicer but its history is still pretty shit-covered."

"Ah, I remember now. I heard about this in history class" No I haven't. I don't even have history. Just want to stop talking to him about some dumb bracelet. "Can it sell for big bucks at a pawnshop?"

"I mean, sure if you'd like to get rid of it. Better to give it to the local museum though! It looks to me like it's made out of elephant tusks. Pretty well preserved too! The wearer must've been some warrior. They only wear these types of jewelry if they're the village's protectors. That's what I've read online anyway. You know how the interweb is though. Could be false."

"Oh wow. Ivory? That's a pretty dirty trade. Don't want to give something like that up to white people who continue to promote the trade. This'll just make the ivory market worse. I may keep it; I just wonder if it's cursed or something. I'll ask a local witchcraft practitioner to check it out tomorrow. Can I have thirty bucks for an appraisal along with an after-school snack?"

"Thirty? What're you going to buy? A salmon dinner with asparagus and steak? I'm not giving you Carabbas money. I can do 18. Enough for some street food."

"Not enough for the appraisal!"

"I'm sure the person will be able to work something out for you. You look twelve. You can play the 'Uwu I'm a baby who has no money, please help me out adult!' card. Or, how about this: pretend to be doing a research project for school on Sudanese slaves in the area. Just act like the school lent you the bracelet for the project"

"So lie?"

"I call it embellishment."

"I see"

I reached into his calloused palm and stole its contents, As a thief, I ran upstairs away from the site of the crime, away from the demons that lurked beneath the stairs. That's customary practice when going up stairs, right? To haul ass like there's no tomorrow like we're that black chick from Scary Movie? Sounds about right. I heaved and ho'd swinging my body back and forth up the stairs. Snaking my way into my room where I burrow for my after-school nap. That's what I tell my parents anyway. What I really do is blaze up in my room and turn on the fan. Gotta keep the smoke minimal. "Such a typical teen". Yeah, whatever. Like your generation wasn't popping ass and drinking bathtub wine when ya'll were young, Get outta here.

It's a good high. Kind where you'd listen to lofi and eat peanuts just for the fun of it. Another bong hit. Satisfying. I'm just leaning back on my sofa; it's firm and uncomfy but when I'm blazed, don't none of it matter. I could lose all of my words...give up....let....go.....

"...."

"What is this energy I'm feeling? So warm and electric. Is this love? Am I so sexually frustrated that I'm in love with a bong? Shit, I fuck with that. That's pretty words. 'I'm in love with my bong'. Such nice love. haha."

I'm hungry and it's four am. The weed has worn off. So tired man. Gotta go downstairs for some chips or something. Hungry to the max. Munchies munchies munchies for the weed monster. What a drug.

I creep down the stairs and up once more. My bare footpads cling to the hardwood and leave sweat prints in the shape of my stompers. During my ascent I leave crumbs. Have the house feeling like a Brother's Grimm story. I satisfy my snack desires as I prepare for school in the next hour.

Running water on my arms. Three passes of lotion on arms and legs. Can't be the ashy black kid that look like they an African living in a dirt house. Ain't able to help the rough patches that coat my body but I can help keep my skin moisturized.

A'ight. Got my fit got my board. Just have to screw the bolt back on and find the bracelet. Shit. Left it upstairs. I'm already late as hell. Rushing up the stairs. Search for the bracelet, find it, get out house. Objectives objectives. I spot it from afar and gravitating toward it, put it gingerly in my pocket. Kindof like someone would with a used tissue. Aren't humans gross? I mean, snot? Bacteria-filled snot? Nasty. Thoughts gone, make brain go from thinking to doing. descending now. Board in arm, door opens with the flick of the wrist and just like that, I'm outty. Deck on ground I put my best foot forward and ram it onto the hard cement to push myself forward. Sorry foot, betrayals sure do suck.

School begins, in class siting in a chair. All day, several hours. Ah, the beloved system at work. Great to know that there are adults who "work" all day by keeping kids seated in a chair. Very progressive, America. Library break? I think so. On my laptop, I pull out webpages on the pocketed---the word reminds me of 'closeted---bracelet. NOW I'm imagining a gay bracelet. hilarious. Great. Typing 'Gay Bracelet' into the search bar and am getting rainbow plastic bands. Ya know, the ones that they sell at Hot Topic during pride month.

"Damn, I'm getting sidetracked" She mutters to herself. Imagine if life were a story being told by some omnipotent force? omnipresent? Think that's the word.

With a bit of typing and a bit of focus. Swift movement of hunched fingers. All is complete, then some. Ogdle: "common of the Azande warriors were pieces to signify their status such as septum tusks, mouth disks, necklaces and other adornments. Bones and tusks were common materials of such articles."

Crazy how this history is hidden. Power was taken from us and buried so deep. We're the originals but every piece of history buried underground. Hidden, secretive Big Bad America. Tale fit for young people all over. Democracy, boo yah.

Train whistle blowing through the air. No train nearby, just the sound of a change in the block. I put it all away, sweep it into my bag. Everything is so messy, so fast. On schooldays like this, it feels hard to even take time to breathe. But I get by since the system wants me to. Think I'm going to skip. Not that the next two classes even matter in the long run. "Such a poor black baby, representing her race so poorly". Yeah yeah. Not the black chick that highschools would put on a recruiting card.

Just another push....door after door falling at my fingertips. The same once that touch the coarse sandpaper of my board. Foot on, foot off. kick once, twice, thrice, now we surf the cement. Now it's time to visit good the kind old black woman who practices witchcraft on dolls. That's what you'd think right? No, they're native and keep old customs within the community. Everyone calls them---agender--- Sage. Nonbinary native americans are actually more common than people think.

Before selling the bracelet to some old rich white drudge of society, I wanna be sure that the bracelet can be cleansed first. I mean. To give away black history to the white man? Hellll no with multiple "l's". It is a pretty long ride there, even on a board. Rumbly road. Pebbles everywhere. Thousands of little rocks acting as smaller wheels vying to fling me off. It's too much.

Mumbling of my own. "Where's gentrification when you need it?" Alright, yes I get it. It's a bad joke. Of course gentrification is bad. Blah blah. Time to pick up my skateboard I guess. Walking on this ground feels just as bad as suicide. Feaful of getting my ass flung into the afterlife. Few yards left....or at least fifty feet. Forty eight, forty five, forty-however-long.

Ended up reaching it after twenty minutes. This trip better be worth it.

"Hi there, Miss Sage. Mind checking out this bracelet for me? I need to check it for a curse or evil energy. My cheap father didn't give me enough for a full appraisal but what can you do with nine dollars?"

"For nine? Not much, doll? What was your name again? You look young, do you have an adult's approval for this?"

"Oh, right. You've got me. It's for a school project. School each student a historical object to research. I figured you'd be able to help me get an 'A' on the project, you know?"

"Your manners are lacking but you seem young, so I'll let you pass. Allow me to take a look at it, if you please?"

God. Full-fledged adults really are something else. I'm only eighteen, not eight. Guess I look younger than I am----

Sage starts burning this wood that's tied with string. Incense maybe?

"That incense?"

"It's a closed practice really, so I don't want to expose anything. But it is a form of incense that I prefer to use to cleanse the spirit of objects and areas."

"Ah, didn't mean to intrude. I'm glad that there are still practices that you keep to yourself. Nothing like the White Man stripping us of our culture."

I got a soft chuckle out of them. Glad that they're able to lighten up a bit.

"..."

"OK, so here's what I've found. There's immense energy here; the power coming off of this thing is tremendous. There's nothing negative about this piece. How'd you ever come across it, again? School, you said? Shame that you'll have to give it back. Something like this would provide a large power surge to spirituals. I'd pay a pretty penny for this."

"Mhm"

"Wonder how the school even came across this. I tell you what. Ask your school where I can find something like this and perhaps I'll give you a little something for your intel, huh?"

"Oh. Sure. I'll just--uh---"

"Right, right, right. The bracelet, I'm sorry. Really, it's more an anklet truly, but--ya know what? I'm sorry. Here ya go"

"...take it from ya. Thanks."

"No problem. Come back with more info on the anklet. That'll be your payment for my time"

Got 'caught in a lie it seems. Don't know how I'll snake my way out of this one.

"Brrrrrzzzzz"

Shit, it's five. My dad's probably looking for me.

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

Chapter two:

" You skipped class? Bee, I know that you're better than this."

God moms bitch too much. Must be the nursing job coupled with her daily acting gigs that make her so aggro.

"I hear ya, mom. I just had some research to conduct after school..."

"Research? Which kind---?"

"The school kind. I don't know what else you want me to say. I'm sorry for skipping lasses. I got too overzealous and went in over my head. It won't happen again."

"Tskk. Better not. I know that I'm gone almost every hour of the day, but please give me a break, baby. Please just listen to your father and follow the rules. All I ask."

"Mhm, even though he-----you know what, nevermind. Am I dismissed? I have to write up today's school report to type"

Phew. Gonna hit the bong now to calm down from this encounter.

Fuck homework. .... ..... Mhm.

Five minutes passs. Fifteen, twenty. Maybe not minutes. hours? seconds? Time is too funny. With LEDs on, the vibe is fatallll. Still have to open a window to let out the smoke but gosh is this magical.

Mhm magic. Does it even exist? Doubt it. It's all science, right? ....

.....

Right. Like, this anklet. Not real power. Not real magic. Just something people believe in. Like God. It's all faith.

"So, theoretically, I could even put it on my person and nothing would even happen"

"And, so it begins"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT VOICE" and why am I screaming?

Get off, get off, get off! Something's dripping on me.

"Tears, they're tears"

Oh god, I fucked up. I knew that I shouldn't have smoked that much. Knew it'd bite me in the ass one day. Now I'm fear-crying. I NEVER FEAR CRY.

It's all a dream maybe. Go to sleep, Bee. Just take a weed nap.

"Ba ba bang"

A booming voice raspy from coffee withdrawal.

"Everything OK in there Bee? You're about to be late for school."

Shit!

No time for conversation. Move it move it move it.

"'Cmon Bee. I'll drop you off at school on my way to the college".

Bookbag? Check. Board? Check.

I feel the rush of air against my cheeks as I fly out the door and jump into the getaway car. Fast, but atleast I'm not Furious. Dad and I chat it up all the way until the tires cross the smooth pavement of school grounds. Departing words are exchanged along with "I love you's" and "knock 'em deads".

That familiar sound. Principal as the school conductor. "Chooo". Just as it drones, my body moves to the steps of teens dragging their feet toward their dreaded first classes of the day. The light of morning cradles the marble arches of the school entrance until the sun starts to suck in the morning cold to blow out midday warmth.

"So, who are you, voice? What's your angle? Typing ensues. The screen watches my fleeting pupils; left, right, side, side. Wouldn't be surprised if the computer got whiplash from me. One scroll, two, three. Read a page. Nothing. Another website. Up and down; my fingers are cramped now. Nada. New Oogdle search: "Can I hear voices with weed smoking." Now I have a hit; "yes weed can have you seeing voices. Many aren't even your own. Maybe lay off the TV for a while."

"Thanks 'BouncyNina29'. Quora is one hell of a place." Guess it must've just been the drugs then. Hilarious, me hearing some voice. "Gotta lay off the bong smoking".

"Shhh!!" Some nerd in a striped beanie raised a finger to pursed lips.

Sorry, sorry....Jeez. "My bad" You know what? Maybe I can visit----

the train whistle interrupts my 11pm "ball" with myself. "Dammit". OK. Maybe I can bribe one of the delinquents behind the school to take my place in English. Teacher's not there anyway; the sub won't know the difference. Time to go pay someone off.

"..."

"Here ya go, five dollars."

"A'ight and you said what room that English class in?"

"301 B man. It's at the end of the third floor, right wing. Hard to miss and---remember---my name is Maybel Rhodes. Just fake like you're doing some work and no one will even notice that you're not me. I'm a loner, so, that'll work."

"Mhm hmm. I hear ya Maple"

"MayBEL"

"Yeah, that's what I said"

Scoff. In a smooth curvular motion, I plant my feet on the board and race to Sage's before their store closes.

As I approach, they're putting a silver key in a lock. Gah! The store closed.

"Miss Sage---"

"Gah! Don't do that!! Scaring me and sh--I mean, 'crap'. Scaring me and crap. Look kid, I'm closed right now but we open tomorrow. By then, I'll have the energy to discuss your school's anklet with you. Actually, about that. Do you have intel on where the-----"

"Yes, yes. About that, see...I lied. I didn't really get it from the school. I found it on the ground somewhere."

"'Found it on the ground somewhere' is code for 'I don't have money to pay nor do I have anything else to provide'? Am I getting warmer?"

"Look Miss Sage, I'm really sorry. Hey---look at it this way. I'm in debt to you. If you'll just help me with one teensy little thing, I'll ask my dad for some food money and will give you every cent he gives, alright?"

"Kid, that's not how an adult runs a business. Call what I gave you yesterday a 'freebie'. You're banned from the store. Good night."

Wait. "Wait" Their stride is aimed toward their silver camry. Yeah, I know a camry. Did you expect them to be riding a horse? Racist. Sage acts as though they don't hear and gets into their seat, key in ignition. One twist away before exiting the rocky parking area.

"IT SPOKE TO ME" Yup. That is how I yelled it. All caps, woke some birds up even. Just like in those Loony Toon cartoons. Is that why they're called "Loony Toons" 'cause they're loony cart----

Now they exit their car, slamming the heavy metal door. "What did you say? It...SPOKE...to you? What do you mean 'it'?"

Mhm Mhm. Just prepping my throat. "I wore it on my ankle and I heard a voice that has never existed before in the chasms----"

"Stop the theatrics"

"....Chasms of my mind. It was a male. Around your age in old-timey-ness."

"Har har."

"But it's the truth!" Why won't they believe a magical voice but insist that sage, a random plant, purifies the air?

Their chest contracts and expands in a sigh. Sage closes their eyes for a second. I could practically smell the gears turning. Need some WD-40, really. "Fine. Come by the store Saturday. That way, no one will be in to eavesdrop."

"Deal!"

"And bring actual MULA this time or else we won't have our little discussion". Crud.

"...."

"What are you thinking Sage?" No response. I paid one hundred fifty dollars for this after BEGGING both my folks (who think I'm using it to enroll in some after school sport) to slide me some cash so that I can 'better myself as an individual and actually do something with my time as well'. Lies are no good.

"Shh! Let me think, please!" Sage subverts their attention from me back onto the tarot cards laid in front of them----exactly where the bone anklet (bonklet) lay in silence

Ten minutes pass before Sage gives me the break down. "So, as I've said before. The anklet carries some heavy energy, something similar to passion and justice. Very potent stuff. That's what the spirit realm is saying, anyway. When you were---ahem--- HIGH----"

At this point I look away

"...You honed into that energy and that's why you heard the voice"

"Hm. So, how do I hone in on that energy now? Is it something I can control conscious?"

"Look, I dunno kid. Just, be safe. Meditate beforehand so that you are actually able to chime into the anklet's power source. Don't want to darken the talisman's power or anything."

"Sure, sure" I am literally out the door before Sage utters the second part of their sentence. I buzz with excitement at the opportunity and the best part is? I'm basically a super! Hoo ho. This is awesome.

There's an empty industrial facility near by Hawesome Li Cosmetics. It went bankrupt several decads ago. I'm pretty much the only one who knows about the place. Excellent ground to skate on---smooth as butter. Either way, it's empty and no harm will come to anything or anyone nearby. Any damage that I do will be to the building nearby, which no one cares about anyway. "So, it's just me and you buddy." Blunt in hand, I blaze it up. "Time for the magic to happen."

It's a slow high. The high takes as long as a flame reaching the wooden stick of an incense rod for the high to hit. Upwards of thirty minutes. So I wait. It feels like time warps. So I meditate. So I clear my thinking and reach out to the anklet.

"Mhm, Anklet, tell me who you are?"

"What?? You can hear me?"

"Yeah man. Who are you, why you speaking to me?"

"Why would I tell you? I don't even know yer name"

Tiring. It's like talking to a wall.

"Hey, I heard that!"

"Maybel. My name's Maybel. What's yours? Let's start there."

"Nat."

"Like Nat Turner? The rebel slave?"

"Don't know who that is, this 'Nat Turner'. Just knew my master gave me the name." How progressive. "So...I suspect that I'm dead."

It's not easy news. I get it. But hey, the north won. That's something, right?

"Well, I guess it is....you know, I had a name before all of this...."

"......"

"......??"

"......."

So, are you going to tell me?

"You may call me 'Asim'."

"I'll call you Ase."

Don't call me 'Ase'. Too late, Ase. Hey, how old are you anyway? 12? 11? My name is ASIM, nothing else. Fine, grumpy. ASIM. I'll call you Asim, Asim. Where'd that name come from anyway? What does it mean?

"Let's find out, shall we?"

"...It feels electric! (Boogy woogy woogy). Such power, this wade in...glory."

Are you a God?

"Blasphemy!" Then what are you? How are you able to lay such energy unto me?

Look, I don't know either, alright? But what I do know is...we're both negr---

Black. We don't say that word anymore.

"Black, then... Perhaps I'm connected with you due to our shared skin?" We stopped being related millenia ago. Millenia? Not familar with that word.

"Long, long ago. We don't share any common ancestors. It was all a lie." A lie? You don't believe in a God? I'm moreso spiritual; creation is a possibility not something I'm invested in. I believe in forces of the universe. "But not a God? So, this can't be some spiritual connection. We're too different." So perhaps a soul connection? A link between our spirits.... What else do we have in common? A slave and a black kid?

"Hatred of the white man? Wanting justice against them?"

"War. Destruction"

"Yes."

"No, I don't want that. I'd prefer peace." There may be no PEACE without WAR.

"A lie. Violence is not the answer. Kindness is."

"'Kindness' doesn't resolve problems. 'Kindness' doesn't end racism. 'KINDNESS' was the one that slept at my feet while I was lashed! "

"..."

Asim?

"..."

Andddd you're gone. Great. Well, I'm going to head back home, then. We can hang out again tomorrow. "Head back" means leave. All right, see you.