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olderjodijournals · 2 months ago

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Saturday, September 2, 2006

Today went really well with the racing. It hit 7 out of 15 races, but he didn’t bet any money on them because he’s still testing it. He wants to do 50 test races before he starts shelling out money on it. He said, however, that if he’d bet conservatively, like a couple of bucks a race, it would’ve won $30. Had he bet aggressively at around $6 - $12 a race, it would’ve won $200! We still don’t know if it’s going to make 1, 2 or 3 hundred a day. Naturally, we hope for 3, but 1 would still get us out of the mainstream and into a nice place as that’d be 3 G’s a month. We just may not be able to buy a yacht to live on part-time. I think it will be more like 2 or 3 hundred a day. I hope so! And who knows? There may even be some 5 or 10 grand wins mixed in along the way. After a few years of spending money like crazy to set up house, the money should start coming in faster than we can spend it. That’s when we could maybe get a boat of some kind.

As I told Tom, I don’t want to give 30-day notice cuz I don’t want to have to be available to host any games of Show & Tell. We don’t even have to let them know when we’re gone. We can just leave the keys and go. They’ll find out in a week + 72 hrs.

Tom saw that our old duplex was for rent again when he was paying rent. Apparently, the people after us got a year’s lease and then got the hell out as soon as it was up. Gee, I wonder why?

The truck came and went twice a couple of nights ago. I wonder if they’re moving. I couldn’t see if they hauled anything in, but they left with a bunch of boxes in back. I hope they’re not gearing up for a huge Labor Day party, though Tom could always close his door if they get loud, and I’ll be sleeping through most of it. I hope! Well, it’s just past 10:30 now, so now maybe things will settle down for the night and we can quit with the distractions I can’t drown out with background noise.

I got a new exercise ball since Miss Perfect’s got all stretched out and would slowly leak air. This one’s a pretty shade of pink, rather than the dark blue the other one was.

Monday, September 4, 2006

Tom had a bad racing day yesterday due to a programming error he made. At least he found it and fixed it, so hopefully today will be better.

The memories of my parents, siblings, aunts and uncles still haunt me, but true happiness comes in knowing I never ever have to see them or speak to them again. To me, reuniting with them would be like being friends with the freeloaders that made 7 years of my life pure hell. It’d be like – no way! It seems Philip is the only good one I can remember. Even so, I wish we could delete selected memories as easily as we can delete files on our computers. They’d be the first to go!

Later…

You can tell it was a holiday today. It’s after 10:00 yet I still hear stereos blaring by every few minutes, people screaming, etc.

Until and if they come out with a magic pill that’s legal, I’m just about out of the 120s for good. I may have a few spells where I dip down under 130 once my period starts and this water comes off, but I should gradually climb from there on out on the 1500-2000 calories I’ve been having. I just hope I only gain closer to 20 more pounds and not 50 or even 100!

Today wasn’t a stellar racing day, but not a bad one either. Had he bet small he’d have won about $40. Betting big would’ve won about $90. He still feels it’s ready to bet for real now, and now that he’s going to work an hour later due to the animals returning to school, he may make bets before work each morning and take it from there. If our lives have revolved around other people’s kids as much as it has, imagine how it would’ve been had we had our own. I still have zero regrets about not having any. I’m only sorry, as I’ve said before, that Tom and God had to play with my head for all those years and jerk my emotions around so cruelly. God, I’m sure, knew damn well what He was doing, but I don’t think Tom had any idea of just how hurt, frustrated and angry I was. I don’t think any man or fertile woman could possibly know!

Thursday, September 7, 2006

After using the Hoodia for a while now, I guess I can say they do help a little. They do a better job of filling me up faster than they do of delaying the hunger between meals and snacks.

I’ve been on nights lately and I wish I could stay that way till we move. Nighttime is the only time it’s peaceful. The dog can be drowned out, but there’s no drowning out the ungodly hammering of the bass and drums.

Friday, September 8, 2006

I had a strange thing happen to me. Well, I knew my period would be a couple of days early because of how sore my boobs got. Yet when it started, it stopped completely just a few hours later! It’s never done that before. I’m still all bloated and my boobs are still slightly sore. I’m not going to get any more Hoodia pills in case there’s a connection, and because they don’t help much. Damn them for making Claritin a prescription drug! Oh well. It’s just my time to join my fellow middle-agers in being at least 50 pounds overweight, so I guess I’m forever through with the 120s. It used to be I’d take it easy for a week or so and lose a few pounds, but not anymore! The scale won’t budge. I knew there’d eventually come a time when I’d hit 130 and couldn’t come back down.

We’d be ahead $300 on the 20 test races he’s done with his latest adjustment. Well, he plans to ultimately do 20 races a day, so that’ll be $300 a day if things keep working out! He’s going to start betting aggressively on the 16th.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

The good news is that the handicapping is going really well. He’s now at the point where he could easily make what he makes at work in a week or more and is hopeful of being able to quit his job around the first of the year. It takes time to get to the point where it’s making enough money that it only needs a couple of hours of work a day, and in order to do that he’d need more time. Because he’s been there for over two years now, he’s eligible for two weeks of vacation. He still won’t actually bet aggressively till the 16th, but he’s able to tell without betting seriously just what he would’ve profited if he had. For now, he has to manually input the information on each horse and each track, but eventually, he can download the info and save himself tons of time. This info costs money, though, and so he doesn’t want to pay for it till he starts generating good money.

The bad news is that we may be going from noisy to very noisy just like we did at the duplex when summer hit, along with the fat bitch and her dog. Yeah, had Tom known better when he was paying the rent, he could’ve asked Pam, “So what are you going to send to run us out of this place?”

To back up a bit, Tom and I rode to Fred’s yesterday and ate at Carl’s Jr. before doing our shopping, as we normally do. This was when I informed him I had a couple of disturbing neighborhood reports to fill him in on. First I told him that the house diagonally across from us got a puppy, though amazingly, they do take it indoors. He’s already seen the thing, he said. I knew that yard would get dogged sooner or later, as I told him. I figure that once it’s a little older they’ll start leaving it out all the time. He says he doubts they’d do that before winter. Well, no dog’s been as annoying as the canal dog as of yet, and I sure hope it stays that way since no one will shoot the fucking thing any more than they’ll ban these fucking stereos!

Then I let Tom know that I saw a Century 21 SUV pick Kim up at around 1:00 on Friday and that I was afraid she was moving for real this time. I thought that maybe that’s why she rented such a cheap little dump; so she could save for a house. Or perhaps she won or inherited some money. But then he told me he’s seen that vehicle there nearly every day lately and that he thinks it’s just a friend.

Coming to visit in the middle of the afternoon on a workday? And every day? Hmmm… that’s some friend. Especially when you consider the fact that most folks with jobs don’t like to hang with those who are jobless, no matter what the reason may be.

But then come 2 PM yesterday, what I always figured would happen (I just didn’t think it’d take so long) came to pass. A pickup came and started hauling shit out. It only made two quick trips, but how much stuff can you have to move from a 200-300-square-foot place as opposed to a 1000-square-foot duplex?

When I got up at midnight I was surprised to see her car here. She left for 15 minutes at 2:30. She’s too fat to be a druggie, yet this thing never sleeps! She’s been coming and going at all kinds of hours during both the day and night that I just can’t figure out when she sleeps. Whenever the hell that is, it obviously isn’t for long at a time, unless like with Tina, she’s got a twin living there with her!

Anyway, I guess she’ll be completely moved out by today unless she’s going to take her sweet time until the 1st like Beverly did. If she’s all paid up till then, then she’s got no hurry. I’m sure management already has someone lined up and ready to move in too, by the 1st or sooner, and of course that’s got me wondering if Kim was just a fluke and if the Tom-and-Jodi-must-have-loud-rude-obnoxious-neighbors curse will once again be in effect until we can buy our way out of civilization for what will hopefully be the last time. One good neighbor isn’t enough to convince me the bad neighbor streak that ran from 1992-2005 is off for good. I’d need 2-3 good ones in a row, but hopefully we won’t have to deal with that many turnovers before we can live alone. Alone. Not in someone else’s yard or driveway, or with their dogs, kids, etc. The folks on the other side of us don’t exactly count due to the distance and layout of the place, but yes, they’d be a nightmare at just a few feet away and especially if they were attached to us because there are so many of them. We saw the older couple with the toddler on the deck coming back from shopping yesterday, but if the dog was there, one of the two cars that were present was blocking it from view.

Another thing that’ll suck once the new renter arrives is that they’ll be coming up to the house for their mail unless they too, have a PO Box somewhere.

We’ve got enough money to be able to split as soon as they get too obnoxious for us and they wake me up regularly, so it’s nice to know we won’t have to suffer with them for 4 months like we did with the bitch and her beast. I mean, when you consider the kinds of people that’d be likely to rent a place like that, most of them just ain’t good! okay, so it’s great that they can’t have dogs, can’t have a lot of people living there, can’t have TVs drive us crazy, but they can have stereos and friends with stereos. Even if they don’t have a stereo, all it takes is one visitor that does, and you know everyone has company 3-4 times a week but us. I also know that the person will be on welfare or disability and home way too much of the time.

I wish we could run them out for a change instead of it being the other way around, as I’d really like to stay put till we can get out of state, but I know better so Tom’s going to start getting The Nickel. I just can’t believe we’ll get two tolerable neighbors in a row. If we do, there’s yet another reason never to live without Lucky Bamboos and horseshoes.

Fred had a really good deal on their fragrances; a buy-one-get-one-free deal. I got a Mary Kate and Ashley duo set, plus Island Gardenia that’s absolutely gorgeous.

I also got a 6” Barbie miniature done up as Rapunzel like the regular-sized one I’ve got. The gown is almost an exact duplicate and the hair’s past her feet. It’s so cute.

Been winning DVDs, T-shirts, a large dry-erase board and a coupon for a pie. I just don’t know if they carry this brand in any of the stores around here.

Monday, September 11, 2006

It’s to be in the 70s for the next few days which is amazing for mid-October in a cold climate. It sure saves us money too, since I haven’t had to run the heat during the daytime.

The guy with the wakeboard called and left a message yesterday wondering why he hadn’t received my affidavit yet. Tom called and let him know that in a small town such as this, we had trouble finding a notary, but that it’s on its way. I just checked and it’s out for delivery down in Irvine.

We got a new carrier that seems nice. The other guy switched routes, he told me. He had been on two weeks of vacation himself, so I guess that’s why the mail would be late at times.

Kim surprised me by not having any company yesterday. She’s been home all day and hopefully, she can go another day without it.

Meanwhile, I’m still thinking about how fat, old and ugly I am, and how young, beautiful and straight that gorgeous cashier is.

Just when I was also thinking it a bummer that I only had one win so far this month, I get an email telling me I won a custom book of photo stamps from Fuji.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

I guess Kim isn’t moving, after all, thank God. Damn that bitch for always making me think she is! I guess she was just getting rid of something big. Maybe she got a new bed or couch or something like that.

The cute little cactus plant Tom got me died. I just can’t seem to grow anything! All that’s left are the ponytail palm and the bamboo.

My 4 Barbies came yesterday and are gorgeous.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Kim left with Miss Century 21 in the late afternoon yesterday and didn’t return till 8:00. Century 21 then visited for a half hour or so, then took off. This is one hell of a dedicated friend if that’s what she is, and somehow I doubt it. No friend would ever be that devoted, and neither would any real estate agent trying to sell someone a house. I think she’s either a visitor from elsewhere who’s using her company vehicle or a lover. I haven’t seen the guy who appeared to be her boyfriend for months, and what’s to say she doesn’t swing both ways? She could get women easily looking the way she does. Women love fat frumps. She’s nothing most men would want as easy as most of them are. I hope it isn’t a lover, though, figuring that anyone she knows is going to have a nicer, bigger place. Well, if she’s in tight with this chick, the chick could try to convince her to move in with her, though a real estate agent and a disability seem like an odd match. Anyway, no matter who this person is, I wish she’d stop coming around every day (God knows how her visitors can stand the smell of her place). That’s all the more car doors I have to listen to, and this one parks right outside my bedroom window. Still can’t say for sure whether she’s moving or not, but we have no control over it either way. I just hope we really are out of here no later than June!

Thursday, September 14, 2006

And the rich continue to get richer! Tom found $46 on his way to work, and I got notice that I won the daily $50 cash prize at iSwag. I’m sure it’ll take me forever to receive the check and that I’ll have to play the document game first, though.

It’s only to be 62º today, and there’s a good chance we won’t need the AC anymore this year and that we’ll be firing up the heater real soon.

My mystery package is coming today via UPS, but I don’t know what’s in it. At 1.7 pounds it’s probably just some stupid book or DVD. All I got was a shipping notice and tracking number, nothing else.

When Tom gets out of work in 4 hours, we’re going to treat ourselves with the money he found and get something special at the grocery store and maybe even get me some Chinese to go. He emailed me and told me to decide what I want and that we could get pizza, but the place might be a little crowded. I emailed him back and suggested the store, as we originally planned, and then the Chinese.

Saturday, September 16, 2006

I have been too tired to write due to all the excitement of my latest wonderful and very big win! Best one of all. Something I’ve always wanted to do – go on a cruise! Yes, I won a cruise!!!

Late in the afternoon on the 14th, we fired up the heater now that summer’s checked out. Just when I was getting bummed over the thought of it being cold till mid-June (with the exception of the fact that the bugs are virtually gone now) I got the news. It’s been in the 50s-60s. We’re to have a couple of days in the 70s, but that’s pretty much it for the year. We’re done with the 80s for the year, that’s for sure. So anyway, it was a few hours later in the evening when I was settled in bed reading when Tom came and said I must’ve won something good because this number that’d been trying to call all day finally left a message with a callback number. When he mentioned something about a blues festival, I thought maybe I won a trip to Louisiana or something. I’m no blues or jazz fan as opposed to Tom, but I know that area is big on that stuff. Yet when I called back and spoke to a woman named Nancy, she said I was the grand prize winner for a cruise for two valued at $4,999 aboard Holland America’s MS Westerdam!!! First place got a $1,500 river cruise, and the many runners-up got CDs. The ship sets sail from Ft. Lauderdale, Florida on Jan. 7th and has 3 ports of call before returning to Ft. Lauderdale on the 14th. Its first stop will be Nassau, Bahamas, then Ponce, Puerto Rico, then the Grand Turk Island, the smallest of the islands.

I’ve developed a knack for sensing surprise wins coming in the mail, but I sure as hell never sensed this one! This one gives me hope that yeah, I can win big. They got over 5,000 entries. Well, over 7,000 before they weeded the duplicates out, including one of mine. I’m surprised they don’t have it set up to automatically kick out the dupes, but as I told her, I enter tons of contests and it’s easy to lose track of what you’ve already entered. I’m surprised they didn’t get more entries. It must be because they didn’t include transportation to port because I’ve seen sweeps for sneakers get 12,000 entries.

I had to update my OLS profile which asks what the biggest prize I’ve won so far is. That had been the guitar till now. Hope I keep steadily moving up to the car, then the house, then the millions of dollars!

Nancy told me to call the next day and ask to speak to Regena, who would have more info for me as far as what we need to do. There are a few kinks to iron out first, though, and that’s that we’ll have to come up with the $400 or so for round-trip tickets to and from Florida. We also need to pay around $300 in port taxes, get some 2x2 passport photos taken, then apply for passports at the PO, thanks to the fucking Arabs who’ve caused us to really need to beef up homeland security and then some. They should be made to pay for all this shit if they’re going to terrorize us like they do. We’ll have to fill out and send in a citizen form as well and hope our Arizona IDs/driver’s licenses won’t hinder anything. I think we can work it out and that it’ll be well worth it. I wish we had the truck up and running to do all these errands, but not having it running will help hide the fact that we’ll be gone a week to 10 days.

I don’t trust leaving Tinkerbell in the hands of anyone else, so we’ll be getting her a roommate. I just hope they get along and the one I choose doesn’t turn out to be a biter like the one I bought with her last November turned out to be!

I don’t like the idea of virtual strangers having a key to this place while we’re gone, but hopefully they won’t need to come in here for any reason. If they do, there’ll be a note on the memo board saying: To Bill or AAA, If you have any reason to come in here (and it better be a good one), we’re on vacation and will return on the 14th. Meanwhile, if there’s been some mix-up over the rent, look at the receipt on the kitchen table. We did pay!

Speaking of paying, as Tom pointed out, if I were still in touch with the folks they’d probably pay for the airfare, but they’re not worth associating with for a few hundred bucks. Really, the thought of speaking with them or seeing them makes me sick! Some people really truly are unforgivable. If only they knew, though, that their crazy daughter was to be just 71 miles away, assuming they’re still in Palm City. And if only Mary knew I’d be just 103 miles away, though I’m done with her as far as I know.

All in all, we’ll want to come up with around $1,500 to cover all that’s not included, get new clothes and have money for souvenirs, gambling and fun stuff like that. She said the artists are bringing merchandise if one wants their picture taken with any of them, or to have something autographed. This Delbert McClinton is going to be the lead feature of entertainment with other artists we’ve never heard of. I won’t care for the music as much as I’ll care for the gambling, shopping, swimming, dining, and just plain old relaxation at sea! No stereos! No barking! And hopefully no wild kids! It’ll sure beat starving in dumpy motels!

She gave us our cabin number and we looked at the deck plans online. It’s a deluxe outside cabin. They have standard inside cabins for as low as $1,500. We’re on the upper promenade towards the stern and on the port side. Based on the description and the 360 virtual tour of our cabin, it looks like it’s third-best. The penthouse is obviously the best, but because it’s so high up, you wouldn’t have as good of an ocean view from there as ours will down on the upper promenade. It looks a lot like a hotel room, only you can see the ocean beyond our private verandah through the floor-to-ceiling window! It has the usual dull colors of greens, tans and browns, just a shower, and two lower beds that can be pushed together to form a queen-size bed. There is a little sitting area and a desk. It is one serious luxury cruise liner! This company has a fleet of 16 ships. This ocean liner will have 11 decks, 14 guest elevators, 24 public rooms, 1,848 guests and 800 crew members. The ship’s gross tonnage is 82,000, its length is 950’, its width is 106’ and it was built in 2004. It can go up to 22.5 knots, whatever that means. I emailed her and asked her how that compares to MPH.

I also asked if kids were allowed because contrary to what Nancy told me, the site lists rates for them, which sucks. If they allow animals on that’ll really spoil things big time, because you know we’d be next to someone with wild kids that can’t sit still or shut up for a minute, and well, I don’t want a vacation filled with screaming, running, door-slamming little monsters. We wouldn’t be able to get any peace at the pool or in most places, though the cabins in our area are only designed for two people, so that’s good. Still, I want to eat, shop and swim in peace. At least I could gamble in peace as I don’t see how they’d be allowed in the casino area. I figure, though, that no matter who’s in the neighboring cabins, they’re bound to be noisy enough, coming and going. We’ll be coming and going as well, only we’ll shut the door normally and not slam it. The walls are bound to be paper thin so as to lessen the weight, and so it’ll be noisy enough because that’s just our luck, especially with God knowing we’re not paying for most of it! But neighboring kids would be all the worse than neighboring adults, and we still have to come up with a good $1,500 or so for extras and that’s quite a bit. I just hope it’ll be worth it! Sure seems like it will be. Tom says not all the cruises allow kids just because some of them do, and pointed out that they’re supposed to be in school at that time of year. Well, I just hope that if there are any animals, there are not that many. I don’t see how there could be, as most people with animals couldn’t afford to go cruising. It’s certainly another reason to be glad we don’t have any of our own. First of all, I wouldn’t have the time to do these sweeps in the first place. Secondly, we’d never be able to come up with the money for the extras, and then where would the animals go while we were gone? I’m also glad he doesn’t make $8 an hour. That’d be another sure way to stop us from going, so I guess it’s meant to be. I can’t wait! There are 113 days to go, according to their site. The next 113 days are going to be boring because I’ve ceased all doll shopping, so it’s going to be a big old waiting game.

My only real concern is it severely delaying the handicapping from getting us out of here. Tom’s not going to be able to bet as aggressively as he originally planned to start doing today, so hopefully this won’t be a serious issue. He’s sort of compromising the way he’s going to be betting. Life is never what we plan it and things always take longer than expected anyway, so we’ll have to ask ourselves upon returning from the cruise, do we want to stay here, or try to find a bigger place around here that’s no noisier than this one if we can’t go quieter? So that’s my biggest concern right there. If I knew, for example, that it’d add a year to our Oregon sentence then I’d be really tempted to bail out of the cruise as much as I want to go, then wait till we’re settled somewhere with enough money to go on a cruise of our own choosing, which I guess would be from California to Hawaii. They just don’t have as many Pacific cruises, though, because there are not as many destinations to sail to from there.

Nancy had mentioned something about Dan Aykroyd and a radio interview, which had me confused at first because Dan Aykroyd’s an actor. Regena said she didn’t know anything about it and that he was one of the Blues Brothers. But Nancy’s going to set up a magazine interview which I’m not too eager about since I reckon it’d be a pain in the ass. She’s going to do it before the cruise, which seems weird. I would’ve thought that’d be afterward so we could tell all about the fun we had. As long as it’s no additional cost to us, we’ll just get it over with and go ahead and do it. She said she’s going to send the magazine with last year’s winner featured in it, and the quarterly newsletter, too. She also asked for both our full legal names, DOB & place of birth.

Now here’s the good news. I had been concerned about us being stranded on land without a place to go at each port of call till the ship took off again (I looked up these places on maps and satellite images), but she said not to worry cuz we don’t have to leave the ship when it’s docked. We’ll have an ID card which we’ll scan in each time we come and go. They’ll give us robes and towels to use on the beaches, too. I miss the beach sooo much!!! Sure I’d love to go snorkeling and scuba diving, which is extra, but if we have to wait till we’re rich to do things like that, fine. I’ll be happy enough to just bask on the warm sandy beach with palm trees and stare out at the ocean!

I was so excited that I tried to call Paula to tell her all about it, but the numbers I have for her were changed. Figures.

Tom thought it’d be cheaper to get to and from Florida by train, but it’s actually more expensive. I can’t say I’m sorry about that one because it’d add two weeks to the trip, and flying is way more fun! Since there’s no real airport here, I guess we’ll bus ourselves down to Reno, Nevada, gamble a little there, then fly to Ft. Lauderdale from there. I just wish Oregon wasn’t so damn far from Florida! We may just go to Sacramento instead. There’s no road going straight through from here to Reno because there were never enough people in this damn town to be worth spending the millions of dollars on roads to connect to there, so you have to go down to Sacramento anyway to get over to Reno. We may leave two days in advance, get a hotel in Sacramento, fly to Ft. Lauderdale and get a room there till we embark the next day. We just don’t want to be cutting it too close between each point of travel.

Fortunately for me, I won’t have to worry about keeping a schedule other than getting to and from Florida. We can get free room service 24/7. Coffee, water and ice tea are free, but soda isn’t which is strange. Soda is way cheaper than coffee. They don’t pay for alcohol, of course, but since we don’t drink, it doesn’t apply to us. She said they used to schedule people to set dining times at set tables, but since that didn’t work out, they just schedule set dining times. She asked if I wanted 5:30 or 7:30. I told her I didn’t think it’d matter. She said she personally prefers to eat early, so I said we’d go with that. She said we could gain 10 pounds on the cruise and I told her I love to eat so it’d be worth it. So this is why I don’t have to worry about a schedule. If I miss the dining time I can just get room service! She said if the early dining time doesn’t work out, just tell them and they’ll reschedule it, but I think it’ll be fine. She said there’s also the Lido deck we may want to go to instead which is similar to a food court in a mall. The casinos are like Vegas.

I told her I was almost certain we could make it and asked if there was a cash equivalent if something came up where we couldn’t, and let her know that I read that the Blues Festival guide would pay $500 to those who couldn’t make it. She said she didn’t know and would check into it. All she knew was that the trip could be transferred or bumped up a year.

It’s too bad I don’t love people and hate shopping. If I didn’t like shopping, having rats, blasting music and singing, we could live and work on a cruise ship somewhere! Or even on such tiny and secluded islands like the Grand Turk. Although they do have hurricanes, the weather there is even nicer than in California. Maybe we can still build a place in California, live there for a while, buy all we want, sell out, then build a place on some remote island. They’re not crowded despite how nice the weather is there because most people don’t like living so isolated.

The hard part will be leaving the beautiful sunny weather just to return to a tilted microscopic dump in the Arctic. I’ll just have to keep in mind that I’ll be coming back to the rat(s), my stereo, computer, and all my other stuff. I can then resume my shopping list, too.

Apparently, Kim’s behind on her car payments. The guy who drives this old gray pickup was there a couple of days ago. I put my ear to the wall as he was leaving and heard him say, “Well, maybe you can get them to take it back, ride the bus for a while, get a job, then see if you can pay off…”

This was all I heard, but maybe her being so broke will prompt her to stay put. I don’t know if losing her car will mean having more company, but she wouldn’t be going out at 2 AM, that’s for sure!

Monday, September 18, 2006

They’ve been trying to get the dog across the street used to life outdoors 24/7, but as people just don’t seem to get, it doesn’t work that way. The fucking thing’s barking its ass off. The guy came out and tried to calm it down and I wanted to grab the cock by the throat and say, “Hey, the dog’s not going to stop barking. It doesn’t want to live outdoors all the time on a 5’ leash.” Yet as often as I’ve been hearing it, they obviously won’t allow it indoors anymore. They have it leashed at the front corner just a few feet from the windows of the house next door. I’d feel bad for them if most people were as bothered by noise as I am and if they didn’t have a dog of their own. But theirs is older and doesn’t bark much. This thing’s gonna be like the canal dog or worse, a constant nuisance.

Regena replied back saying yes, there are a few kids, but they’ll be doing children’s activities and there shouldn’t be very many. She said very few attend the concerts. Yeah, they’ll be hanging where I want to be, particularly the pool, and given the time of year, they’ll be mostly preschoolers which are the most disruptive. I just hope none are in the cabins that’ll sandwich ours!

Also, 22.5 knots is about 25 MPH, she said. They try to go at a speed that won’t upset the concerts.

The stupid cock just tried again to calm the dog down to no avail. He saw me standing out front with my hand on my hip in a very annoyed pose, but again, if this was someone who cared about those around them, then it wouldn’t be just a few feet from the corner house. He was on a cell phone and spotted me when he hung up. I then called out, “The dog’s not going to stop barking.”

I couldn’t hear his reply, so who knows what he said? He just better hope it wasn’t a threat I didn’t hear or I’d have been over there in a heartbeat.

He’s back again. Obviously, he’s just as annoyed by it, so why doesn’t he take the fucking thing inside? I guess it’s just the way of the west. Either way, I’m just so sick of listening to people’s shit everywhere we go!

He may’ve got a complaint yesterday. I couldn’t hear anything, but a huge woman was standing outside the fence talking to him, then she headed around the corner. She may live in the corner house for all I know.

Well, I’ll be damned! The cock just took it inside! For more than 5 minutes, I hope. I also hope that when this idiot sees that when every attempt he makes at forcing the dog to live outside in peace fails, he gets fed up enough to get rid of it. No one will let their dogs live indoors. No one!

Another thing that sucks is that due to the cooler temps, I’m back to having to take painkillers nearly every day for my ear. It’ll be interesting to see how flying and then being so far south affects it. I’m still thinking there’s a very good chance it’s connected to the combination of being so elevated and the cold.

Anyway, the ship’s got an area with internet access. Good. I wouldn’t like missing 10 days of sweeps, so at least I can do some every few days or so and check the 1000 messages the email connected to that would get in 10 days.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

All day yesterday I never saw or heard the dog. I hoped that due to not being able to make it an outdoor dog the owner had gotten rid of it. No dog’s going to stay outdoors and not bark. But I did see/hear someone else playing with it for a few minutes today. Guess they’re going to let it be the indoor, part-of-the-family dog it wants to be which would certainly make me a lot happier so I don’t have to deal with it. I knew there’d be a dog over there sooner or later.

Friday, September 22, 2006

There hasn’t been much barking, but it’s been hell with the stereos for the last 7 hours. Although it’s getting late, you still can’t go 15 minutes without one booming by.

Not much in the way of wins other than the mystery package with 6 hand-blown shot glasses. Like I could ever have any use for those? I also won a men’s exercise book that I forfeited. I was shooting for the grand prize, but as is usually the case, you get a lot of piddly unwanted wins instead.

Due to having no running vehicle, I’m not looking forward to the many errands we have to do such as getting checks cashed, getting passport photos shot, going to the PO and applying for a passport, and God knows what else.

We ordered some lotion and shower gel from Kepa. It’s a little pricey, but certainly worth it. His enriched lotion really helps with my dry skin, and it’s fun picking the scents and having them custom-made. I got Ylang Ylang shower gel and lotions in Pink Sugar, Patchouli, Coco-Mango, Aloha, Vermont Maple Syrup, and Zen. I got Maple Syrup in a smaller 8-oz. bottle to take on the cruise with me!

Just when I thought we might be able to go 15 minutes for the first time since 3:00, some desperado just based by at 13 minutes since the last one. God, I wish I could see these mother-fuckers as I do the trains! I hear them, but they don’t bother me. They’re just sounds. Ah, but every sound is different and to say the pounding bass is nerve-grating is the understatement of the century!

Not much in the news other than the same old shit with the Arabs, and the same old childish shit with the silly celebs, including a rapper who bragged about getting fired from his job bagging groceries before getting his undue fame. Said he was better at stealing groceries than bagging them. Yeah, that’s your all-American whacko blacko for ya.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

They’re still keeping the beast across the street indoors, and fortunately for me, I rarely have to hear the thing. I told Tom I thought they took it inside because the barking bothered them and not because they were concerned it’d bother their neighbors. He said he thought they felt bad for it. Well, if that’s the case, then I wish more people would have more compassion for their pets.

We took the AC out, even though we’re to have days in the mid-70s coming up. It won’t last long.

Haven’t seen Miss Century 21, so maybe she was an out-of-towner.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Tom’s decided to go with the semi-aggressive betting method and hit 3 of 10 races today. He made $100 on one and ended up with a $50 profit. Hopefully, he’ll make enough to at least cover the trip’s expenses that are on us. In a week or so, after he’s had enough time to test this method out, we may sell some stuff on eBay. It’ll depend on how well it does.

Since stopping the Claritin and starting eating I climbed up to 131 pounds, but this little “daily stuffer” diet I devised has dropped me down to 128 pounds. I’d really, really like to go on the cruise at around 120, if God will let me have any say over my own damn body. That way I could eat all I want and know I’m not likely to return over 130-135. If I left at 130, then hell, I’ll be setting records coming back at 140 or higher! The most I’ve ever weighed is 137, and I’d still prefer not to break that record till I’m old. It’s so uncomfortable and so much harder to get around when I’m over 125. I gave up a long time ago on getting thin and staying that way, but if I could find an easier way to lose a few pounds here and there when I get carried away, that’d be great. Having 3-4 small meals/snacks per day didn’t do me any good because this didn’t allow me to get full while still keeping the calories down. It was like a smoker trying to get by on just a drag here and a drag there. It doesn’t work. At least not for me. Without looking forward to filling up at least once a day, I go batty. So I decided to wait as long as I could when I got up each day, then stuff myself till I was full. Then I’d let myself have a small end-of-the-day saver like a piece of fruit, a cup of soup, popcorn, or yogurt, to keep me from waking up hungry. My big meal is usually around 800 calories. Hungry Man makes these 1-pound TV dinners that are pretty good. Especially the fish and chips. I sometimes have other things too, for variety. All in all, I end up with roughly 1000 calories a day. I may have to drop it to 800 if I ever get back down to 123. There are 105 days left before we set sail, so we’ll see where I’m at then, although wherever I am is where I am. This diet isn’t easy, but it’s not impossible. I’m a little hungrier today, however, now that my weight’s dropping. Tea does a good job of flushing water off and relieving my sore tits. I don’t know if the weight I’ve lost is water or fat, but it all takes up space just the same so it doesn’t matter.

Monday, September 25, 2006

I’m having another half-assed period just two weeks after my last half-assed period. Either that Hoodia really messed me up or something else is going on. I find it hard to believe it’s menopause this young and I don’t have any other symptoms suggesting anything’s wrong, so who knows what’s going on? I just hope I’m not ragging or spotting on the cruise! Who wants to have to deal with that shit while on vacation?

I’m up a pound. I wonder how I managed that on just 1000 calories. Maybe it’s because I didn’t have tea last night. I’m not just fat, I’m watery.

A couple of animals broke one of the planks in the fence. The fucking things were only about 8 years old, so I don’t know how they managed it. By the time I got to the window when I heard the screaming, one of the animals was pointing to it saying that it broke. I stepped out and asked them what happened and they shyly said nothing. Then I told them not to fiddle with it anymore so it didn’t break more. They said ok and left. Hopefully, them seeing that they can’t do things without being seen will deter them from breaking any more shit cuz we sure as hell ain’t paying for it if management mentions it!

I later saw these two animals slip inside next door’s fence with a couple of older animals. I don’t know if they’re associated with next door or not. There’s a car parked just inside the gate, so I noticed when I went to fetch the mail. It hasn’t moved since. I don’t know if it’s a visitor or just a car they’re not planning to use much because there were only two cars in the driveway, so it’s not like it was too loaded with cars to park it there.

It’s never been this warm this late into the year since we’ve been here, but we’ve been having wonderful days in the upper 70s and the next 4 days are to be around 80º. It’s been saving us money since we haven’t had to run the heat much.

I saw a baby puppy across the street today for the first time, but Tom says that’s the only one he’s ever seen there. The one I’ve seen is a medium-sized dog. I saw that today too, but they’re not leaving them outside so that’s all I care about.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

We walked to the store both yesterday and today even though today I didn’t see the cashier I think is hot. She’s a little young, though. I’m guessing she’s in her 20s, very straight, yet very open-minded, so my vibes tell me. I once complimented her on her nice straight hair and she said she sometimes wished it were curly. I can’t remember if she’s the one who said she lived in Hawaii and that it was a nice place to visit, but not to live, or if it was some other cashier that said that. The last time I saw her I had been casually looking out the front window while she was standing with her arms crossed waiting for Tom to finish writing. Then I glanced at her and she smiled brightly as soon as I did. I smiled back and then she sort of gave me a quick once-over. She seemed to notice I cut my bangs back. She sort of reminds me of Melanie, the dental assistant I saw in Phoenix when wasting time and money getting braces. She’s a little shorter and a bit plump, yet still very attractive with dark eyes and hair. Her hair is nearly to her waist. I rarely see someone that good-looking that’s heavy, and she’s certainly heavier than I am. I can’t remember her name, but I’ve seen her several times before and she only recently jumped out at me as being someone I’ve got a crush on. It happens sometimes. You see someone several times, then one day you think, hey, this person is really good-looking, and it hits you rather suddenly. She’s always been really friendly and smiley. Wonder what she’d think if she knew what I thought of her? Well, she’ll never know and we’ll never do anything together even if she did know and the feeling was mutual. You know lust has always been a no-no outside of my imagination. There’s an older one who’s good-looking too, named Estella, who’s also got dark hair (I’m not sure of her eye color), but she’s not as good-looking as the younger one. I think that’s usually how it works – younger is better looking. I figure I’ll always find those in their 20s and 30s most attractive no matter how old I live to be.

My period turned out to be pretty normal. I just hope it doesn’t come back in two weeks! It’s weird because it’s like it’s finishing up where it left off two weeks ago. At least my boobs haven’t been left sore or I left watery like the last time, so I’d say I’m back on track.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

We lost 3 of the 5 races Tom was awake enough to stay up for when the results came in, and again I started wondering if he was simply kidding himself over this horse thing. He said that he still feels strongly that the potential is there, but that it’s important that I have a positive attitude to influence things to have a better outcome. This is when he stressed to me that from what he’s observed over our years together is that my so-called psychic gift isn’t making predictions so much as it’s influencing the outcome of things. My first instinct was to laugh, but the more I think about it, the more I think he may have a point when I think of all those I’ve made sick that have angered me in the past, amongst other things.

But what about me predicting when the well failed and the flat tires and things like that? I asked him, and he said he believes it was more of a case that I made those things happen rather than saw them coming, and didn’t understand why I couldn’t see this. I’ve always had a vibe that the well would fail on December 6th of this year and now I wonder if it isn’t really a prediction, but something I’m going to make happen that day. I should blow out the whole damn state if that’s the case! I miss some aspects of the desert, but not that state. I also wonder if my vibe of the queen giving up her reign when she’s 86, but probably 87, is really what I’m going to make sure she does at that time. If that’s the case, should I see if I can get her to turn in her crown earlier? Nah, I’ll let her live to be a burden to Miss Perfect and Dave a little longer. So both the users (his family) and the abusers (my family) can live longer and have more time to suffer!

He said it took him years to realize I was an influencer because it’s not that obvious. Well, I sure as hell didn’t realize it for a while there myself. Sometimes he knows me better than I know my own self. Anything else about me I should know? I asked him.

Maybe even Miss Perfect also knew I was an influencer before I did. Let’s just say if there was one more thing I could do with her it would be to go to the casino! When she first accused me of making her lose I was like, you blubbering fool! You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Then when Tom mentioned it I was like, oh no, you too? Everybody’s losing it, though I certainly dig the vote of confidence!

And he may have a point about me fucking us up without knowing it with my anger and sense of hopelessness. Remember how he’d get so many colds in Phoenix? Well, I always wrote those off to secondhand smoke and lack of vitamins, and perhaps that was truly a part of it, but maybe my being pissed at him for putting me on about wanting a kid was a factor as well. After all, his colds did seem to lessen the more my desire to have a kid lessened. I hope that fat tub of shit we lived with at the duplex is sicker than her dog!

I won’t change what I’ve written up till now, but I’ll try to work into my stories things I’d like to see happen if they go with the plot. If a trip to Hawaii doesn’t fit, then I’ll have to leave it out, but I don’t see why some folks can’t move to California! I really do seem to have a knack for jinxing things through writing, not just thinking.

I wonder if a person can influence another to desire them sexually or at least for a friend. I don’t know if I’d want to influence Tom to think I was young and skinny, though, cuz that just wouldn’t be real, you know? But the cashier would be a good one to test this on. She’s no Jane and she seems like a real sweetie. The kind you’d feel comfortable letting into your home. It wouldn’t be fun testing it on a woman I wasn’t attracted to and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to make other guys dig me. I’ll remember what he said about not trying to influence things with a specific goal in mind, though. When I threw in the cruise in Doe and Art’s letter, it wasn’t my sole purpose for writing. But it seems I jinxed it to happen, even if I told them the cruise was to Hawaii. So what this means is that I won’t plan to be email pals with the cashier or to get it on. I’ll just try to make her like me. Wouldn’t it be funny if this chick who I think is straight, although open-minded, was suddenly having these feelings of attraction to me that she just doesn’t get? What a hilarious idea! I may not know if it works, though. Remember, I may’ve known right away that Pérez liked me, but it took time with Teddy Bear and Palma. Yeah, I think I’ll try it anyway. I figure that if I can do this, maybe I can influence any future assholes to keep them from fucking us over.

I don’t know about doing outrageous things like making Tinkerbell live as long as we do, but I’ll try to keep the dolls, money and wins coming, and the dogs, spiders, stereos and extra weight away. I just gotta develop my skills at doing this. I’m not sure what to do, though. For the most part, it’s still like handing me a trumpet and saying, “Okay, play it.” Well, I’d have it in my hands, but I wouldn’t know how to play! Yet the more I think about it, the more I think he may have a point and the more curious I get about it. It gives me all kinds of new ideas. Funny, as I always used to consider myself a very non-persuasive person. If he’s right, though, then this is one hell of a gift! What would be the point of seeing things if you couldn’t change any of the bad things you saw, as opposed to being able to guide things in a more favorable direction?

I know I’m gonna try to mentally communicate with Tinkerbell while we’re gone to let her know I haven’t left her forever.

So these are the jobs I can work on:

Job 1: Influence sweeps. Job 2: Influence horses. Job 3: Influence Tinkerbell to live longer than usual. Job 4: Influence noisemakers like dogs and music. Job 5: Influence us to keep in good health, me to lose weight. Job 6: Influence the cashier to like me. Job 7: Continue to have “ill feelings” towards those who’ve fucked us over.

Later…

To prove Tom’s point about thoughts and attitudes influencing things, I was thinking how weird it was that we’ve never had to change the bathroom or bedroom bulbs since moving in here, and the bathroom just blew out.

Today I’ve been kind of bummed out. I’m trying to pick myself back up, but believe me, I don’t feel the least bit influential or hopeful today. I hope the way I feel right now won’t influence things in a bad way, but sometimes I just can’t help how I feel. I’m back to feeling stuck in a rut.

First I awoke to find myself up a pound after 900 calories the day before and just 800 the day before that. I’ve been bouncing back and forth between 128-129. So once again, that reminder that’s been jabbing it me saying that it’s my time to gain weight along with everyone else my age sort of set me in a bad mood. I hate having no control over my own body, and I hate knowing that it’s either starve and maybe stay the same weight, or eat a perfectly reasonable amount and gain indefinitely, but I still believe things happen for a reason and I’m sure it must be important for me to gain the weight now if my body’s fighting for it this bad. I was going to drop to 500 calories a day and see what happened since as Tom and I both agree, it’s impossible for anyone to drop that low and not lose, but then I said Nah, there’s no avoiding the inevitable forever. If I just get it over with I know I’ll be glad I did in the end despite how horrible I’ll look and feel. At least if I let my weight reach its middle-age max, then I won’t have to worry about it happening anymore and having to try to fight it.

Then I got even more bummed out because I didn’t go to the store with him and that cashier was there, according to him. However, he described her as skinny, even kind of anorexic, while I thought she was a bit plump. The rest of his description matches, though – 23-25 years old with straight, thin dark hair. I didn’t go because I had just gotten up when he was ready to go. He would’ve waited, but I was pretty hungry when I got up and have gotten frustrated with trying to lose weight, I wanted him to get me a box of brownies while I had my coffee and tried to wake up. I also figured that she wouldn’t be there because I wanted her to be, and you know how it usually works – it’s when you’re looking for something or someone that you don’t find it/them. If you’re on the road in search of a gas station, there isn’t one around for miles, but then they’re everywhere when you’re not looking for one. And you’ll never find that perfect dress for that special occasion until after the occasion. The same goes for those of us seeking out eye candy or lovers. Either way, I lost my confidence. I felt that if I couldn’t influence my own self, then how could I influence someone else, even if Tom feels that trying to get someone to like me is also being too specific and that I should just have an overall positive attitude in general to put out positive energy to make good things happen. He feels that my being happier upon moving in here is part of what helped influence his promotion and things like that. He’s got a point, but we also can’t influence fate. At least not for the most part. I don’t think my believing, for example, that all I’d get were those I wasn’t attracted to if I joined a dating service is what would make that happen, so much as that would simply be what would be fated to happen no matter what I thought or felt. If I were meant to be with someone I was attracted to to the degree I am with Kate or even this cashier, I really think it would’ve happened, be it for a one-night stand or more. It’s common sense that the cashier’s hopeless as far as me making the attraction mutual, no matter what my attitude is, simply because of the age difference. Being heavy isn’t an issue with women as it is for guys, but a 15-year age difference most certainly is. Besides, I really think she’s straight. She’s awfully feminine.

I asked myself this: despite the inevitable outcome, do I really need to start meeting other women? Is that what I really want? But I still feel that no, I don’t think I’d have much fun seeking out women. It’s easier to imagine what I want than to try to find it, especially if it can’t exist for me. Sure I’d be flattered if the cashier liked me too, and sure I’d be friends with her and even have casuals, but that’s just not going to happen, so all I can do is just look forward to whenever I can see her and enjoy those moments. Like I said, though, now that I want to see her, I expect it’ll be a long time before I do and that there’ll be a long line and she’ll be in a rush. Oh well. She may never have a place in my life, but she’ll have a place in one of my stories.

Of course there’s another question, too – is it really just being sick of Tom sexually despite my love for him that’s the problem, or am I simply burning out with age no matter who the person is or what they look like? I figure that there’s got to be all these diet programs and sexual aids for a reason and that if I don’t want side effects like the way the Hoodia screwed up my cycle, then I should just accept things as they are and roll with the punches, even if this means gaining a ton of weight and never having sex again in my life.

I think to myself, if I’ve got to have problems why can’t they be little ones, but then again, not having any control over my weight and never experiencing lust other than in my head and in my stories is a little problem, as opposed to vindictive freeloaders getting me thrown in jail, living with Doe, Art or Tammy, living in Brattleboro, Valleyhead, the NHA, etc. I guess it’s just that the ones that are the current problems seem the biggest of all.

The biggest thing that’s got me down is the nagging feeling that comes and goes, and right now has come, that Tom’s just kidding himself with the horseracing thing. He said that if he is, just let it run its course. I will, I told him, but the next time he gets some grand money-making idea, I don’t want to hear it! It just infuriates me that yet again God goes and teases us with money. Thanks, God, I needed that. We both did.

So now we’re back to square one. Where in the chaotic, but warm mainstream do we go? He still feels he could get a good job in Sacramento despite his age and that we could live in a rural place and still get the things we want without being at risk of losing the place as long as we don’t overextend ourselves as we did with Maricopa and then the mountain, but I don’t know about that. Again, why would I be stuck in the city for so much of my life if this wasn’t where I was meant to be? This is my place in life and on earth, like it or not, and believe me, I don’t like it, but sometimes it’s easier to bitch about something than to try to change it. I hate it but it’s easier here and it makes no sense to go through the struggles of getting a rural place whether or not we’re at risk of losing it when 6 years from now we’d be eligible for a retirement community. Of course, 6 years can be a long time when you live in a noisy environment, and the noisier it is, the longer those 6 years are. I hate the barking, the stereos, the car doors, the kids screaming, the stress of neighboring houses turning over, the problems most neighbors bring, but it’s all I’ve known for the last 20 years. As long as we don’t live next to a pack of freeloading psychos, we should be okay.

He said Sacramento has rapid transit. Just like New York has subways, they have trains they call light rail. Therefore, we could live far out and he could maybe take his bike to the train station, etc. He also said that because the climate is more temperate there and doesn’t get as hot as Arizona or as cold as here, the electric bills would be more stable, but I don’t know. It’s going to be a tough decision. Do we give up having money for shopping and other fun things to get a rural place? Or do we give up the chance to live in peace for the convenience and extra money city life would bring? He thinks we’ll have a choice, but again, I don’t know about that when most of our decisions seem to be made for us by circumstances, fate, God, whatever. First things first, though, and that’s to do what we need to do to go cruising, enjoy the cruise, then come back and start saving to get out of here in June, the month we agreed upon. If I have to sell things due to lack of money, I will. Then we’ll see if we have a say in where we go from there and try to decide what’s best if we do.

Wow, it’s almost 11:30 at night, almost October, and it’s 78º in here!

Oh, God, why’d you have to get our hopes up? And Tom’s hope is still up there, too. He still feels certain we can make a lot of money, own a quiet place outright, and that he’ll never again have to work for anyone else, and I hope to hell he’s right! It’s just that I’ve never been that wrong in such a big way whether I’m the cause of it or not. It would’ve been so wonderful to build our own place and not have to worry how far it was from his job because his job was at home! There’s no doubt about that one.

The way he explained to me why he felt making tons of money wouldn’t be a problem made perfect sense, and I know he knows his stuff when it comes to programming, handicapping and money, but then why do I feel so stuck in a rut?

And why can’t I get this cashier off my mind? I don’t have to have sex with her to be satisfied being the older person that I am. I could be just as happy to hang out with her from time to time as a friend. I know it seems foolish since beauty’s only skin deep, I’ll be gone soon enough, and she’ll be fat and ugly herself in 10-15 years, but I guess I’m only human.

Friday, September 29, 2006

Oh, my God, the penny! I was just laying in bed thinking – what in the world’s got me so down? There are worse problems than all the weight I’m going to gain. There are even worse things than being in the mainstream for 6 more years, and this is only if the worst of fate and circumstances keep us there. There are worse things than being attracted to a cashier that I no doubt don’t stand out to any more than a hole in the wall. So what is it? Then I remembered picking up a penny that was lying with the tails side up. I asked Tom if he’s ever heard of any side being particularly lucky or unlucky to find, and he said he had. I had a feeling the bad side was the tail side, and well, according to the research I just did, many people believe a penny found lying on its tail side should be ignored. If anyone knows not to laugh at what may seem like the silliest of superstitions, it’s us, and so I wonder, did picking this penny up on the wrong side cause any of this gloominess?

When I think of all the times I was furious with God for not punishing those who’ve wronged me, I think maybe He didn’t because he knew I could punish them instead. Then again, I don’t see how I could punish them to the degree that He could. I can’t set the black sickos up in return and have their lives turned upside down and make them suffer a loss of freedom and thousands of dollars.

Saturday, September 30, 2006

Another big grand prize win! Tom was waiting excitedly for me when I got up at 6 PM to show me the overnight letter. I won a platinum graphite wakeboard autographed by Andrew Adkison (we’ve never heard of him, but Tom looked him up), along with other things valued at $2,500!!! For a minute I thought it was a surfboard, but it’s actually a type of fancy waterskiing that they do on this one board. They do all kinds of flips and turns and things like that which regular waterskiing doesn’t usually include.

I asked Tom if he thought everyone wins like this or if he thought it was my psychically influencing it, and he said he definitely feels my being in a good mood over the cruise influenced it. What’s amazing is that I ran and checked the expiration date of this contest and found that it ended the day after I was notified about the cruise! And what perfect timing to learn of this win today with the 1st being right around the corner!

We’re going to get the forms notarized in the morning. Yup, another long day for me just like when I had to get the Bluefly win notarized. It’ll be worth it, though. We’re hoping to get around a grand for it, give or take a hundred or two, and this will more than cover our plane tickets and port taxes!

I’m certainly in a better mood today than yesterday. Even the racing went better with a few small wins.

That cashier is still on my mind, though. Hey hot stuff, wherever you are, whatever your name is. You aren’t in the arms of a guy right now, even though it’s the weekend and you are young. No, you’re somewhere dreaming of me, looking forward to the next time we meet at the check-out.

Yeah, right!

0 notes

tpwkjerii · 4 years ago

Text

strawberry kisses

you and felix have a longstanding tradition of baking the day after finals. usually, it’s the best method of relaxing after long hours of studying. unfortunately, you find yourself rather tense this time — after all, it’s always fun to spend an entire day in a cramped kitchen with your crush, isn’t it?

pairing: lee felix x reader

warnings: fluff and kissing, mild angst, reader likes strawberries (sorry if you’re allergic skdlsd), ex boyfriend (but supportive bestie) minho, reader has low self confidence :(, like two curse words, kisses!!

genre: friends to lovers au, kinda idiots to lovers, mutual pining

word count: 2.9k+

a/n: short fic for Felix hehe

Your eyes glazed over as you reviewed the last response of your final exam of the term. After two long hours of plugging equations you hardly understood into your nearly-dead calculator and speed-writing to the point where you’re sure you’ve bruised your dominant hand, you finally finished. At lightning speed, you gathered your exam papers and submitted them at the front with a quick prayer to the universe.

A few other students followed your rushed pace out of the large lecture hall, all of you eager to finally get out of the stuffy room.

As you stepped out of the packed hall and into the cooling outdoors, you checked your phone, which was filled with texts from the one person you were trying desperately to get out of your head (and miserably failing at that).

felix (strawberry head) <3

5:23 PM

did you finish your chem final ???

hyunjin and i just submitted our video for our dance performance

your editing was very good btw :D

5:35 PM

y/nnnnn you’re taking forever :(

we’re waiting at the quad for you !!

5:40 PM

*i am waiting at the quad for you

the others got too hungry and left, but i’m waiting for you!

pls hurry it’s cold :[

You bit back a laugh at his texts, his heartwarming tone filling you with a familiar fuzzy feeling. You pushed the feeling aside as you texted a reply.

y/n

5:43 PM

be there in 2 :D

You stifled a smile as you rushed towards the quad. Soon enough, you saw Felix and his bright, red-dyed hair (you first noted that it closely resembled a strawberry). The moment your eyes met his, you felt your heart skip a beat and heat spread across your face. This was the common reaction you’ve had for the past few months whenever you see Felix.

He rushed over to you with a giddy smile and his arms outstretched. Quickly, he barrelled into you and pulled you into a tight embrace.

“You took so long,” he whined, his chest vibrating as he spoke.

“I know, I know. ‘M sorry,” you responded, your voice slightly muffled by his shirt. You took a second to enjoy his hold and the comforting warmth that Felix always provided you whenever he was near. Over the past few years, you’ve grown accustomed to the scent of his sweet floral perfume, the feeling of his tight hugs, and the way he played with your fingers when he was bored.

All the things you were fond of were now extreme nuisances in your life. Not because they were annoying or because you disliked Felix, but rather the complete opposite; you were completely, helplessly, and foolishly in love with him.

“You ready to go?” Felix asked suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. He brought his arms down from around you, and you looked down at the ground as you nodded, hoping that he didn’t see the intense blush that was spreading from your face to your neck.

You are so fucked for tomorrow.

After an entire night of tossing and turning in anxiety, the next day finally arrived. To say you were nervous was a massive understatement.

The minute you woke up, you began to anxiously clean your apartment while your roommate Ryujin laughed at you. As you wiped down every visible crevice, she made sure to pester you about a “missed spot” or tempt you with sweets.

“You’ve never cleaned this much whenever Felix came over before,” she pointed out with a laugh while you wiped down the kitchen counters for the fourth time.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice uncharacteristically high-pitched.

Ryujin scoffed. “It is so obvious that you like Felix, there’s no point in lying to me,” she stated bluntly.

Your hand froze mid-wipe on the counter. You looked over at your blue-haired roommate nervously. “Is it really… that obvious?”

“Yes,” she deadpanned.

You winced and dropped your head onto the smooth stone countertop. “Do you think he’s noticed?” you moaned into your arms.

“If he hasn’t, I will personally pay for his glasses prescription.”

You whined again as you lifted your head up to look directly at Ryujin. “If he’s noticed then why hasn’t he said anything?”

She stood up as she answered, “Not sure but you could always ask him today.”

Your mouth dropped in horror at the suggestion. “I can’t tell him how I feel! That would completely ruin our friendship!”

“So you’d rather continue tip-toeing around him and never get a clear answer?” she questioned, her arms crossed.

“Yes.”

Ryujin sighed and started to collect her things. “You can do whatever you want,” she started as she placed her papers in her backpack, “but I recommend you tell him soon.” She stood up and headed for the door. Just before opening it and leaving you alone with your thoughts until Felix arrived, she turned around and said, “I won’t be home until late, have fun.” With that, she winked and walked out of your shared apartment.

You scoffed at her suggestive tone and stood upright to check the time.

10:08 AM

You gasped. Felix said he was going to arrive at 10:30, but knowing him he would be at least 15 minutes early, meaning you only had 7 minutes to get yourself together!

You cursed and rushed to your bedroom. Switching out of your wrinkled pajamas, you opted for a random hoodie you grabbed out of your closet and jeans. After you changed, you made a beeline for the bathroom and fixed your appearance. You quickly brushed through your hair and washed your face, hoping you removed all remnants of your restless sleep.

Just as you predicted, you heard four distinctive knocks on your front door right at 10:15.

“Coming!” you exclaimed as you rushed out of your bathroom.

Right before you opened the front door, you placed a hand on your beating heart and mumbled words of encouragement to yourself. Then, after deciding that you were probably taking too long, you pulled the door open.

Immediately, Felix, covered in a large hoodie and arms filled with large bags of baking ingredients, greeted you with a large grin. Like every other time, you felt your heart skip a beat when you made eye contact with him.

“Hi,” you said simply, a smile on your face.

“Hi,” he responded. He looked you up and down, asking, “Are you wearing my hoodie?”

You paled and looked down at the large pink hoodie, immediately recognizing it as the one that Felix lent you almost one year ago when he dropped you off at the airport since you forgot yours in the car. Once you got back from your trip, you’d forgotten to give it back to him.

“O-oh,” you stuttered, looking down at the oversized sleeves. “I didn’t even realize,” you continued awkwardly. “You can ha -”

“It’s fine,” he cut you off, the smile never leaving his face. He shrugged. “You look better in it anyways.”

Your mouth dropped and you found yourself unable to respond for a few moments. Felix laughed at your dumbfoundedness and gently pushed you aside to walk into the apartment. Once he set the bags down on the kitchen counters, you returned to your senses and closed the door to walk over to him.

“So, what are we making today?” you asked, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. It wasn’t an easy task to do, considering his proximity to you.

You held your breath as he grabbed your hands and looked into your eyes. “What’s your favorite fruit?” he asked excitedly.

“Er, strawberries?” you answered, tilting your head to the side in mild confusion.

At that, Felix let go of your hands and quickly pulled out a carton of fresh strawberries from one of the bags. You gasped in delight at the sight of the bright fruit and immediately thanked him.

“It’s no big deal,” he responded while sliding the fruits into the fridge. “I’m gonna eat most of the tarts and choco strawberries anyways,” he added with a sneaky laugh.

You scoffed. “You always say that but you always end up giving me the most.” You smirked at him while taking out the baking materials.

“I don’t give it to you,” he countered. “You steal them.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you told him with a sing-song tone. He laughed from your side, and you swore that you heard actual sparkles, as if he were a fairy, when he did.

You cleared your throat, hoping to rid your mind of distracting thoughts that could be potential problems during the next seven hours that Felix would be at your apartment. “So, master chef Felix,” you started, lowering your voice like a TV show announcer. “What are you going to do first?”

“Well, my fair announcer,” he began, holding up the silicon whisk like a microphone. “I think we should start with preparing the shortbread dough, what about you?”

“Ah, you are the chef. Lead the way,” you responded with a wide smile.

You both laughed together and actually began the baking. Like usual, Felix did most of the work while you played music and assisted from the side. You worked together seamlessly, and soon enough the shortbread cookies were done and strawberry jam cooling to the side.

While you taste-tested the jam, Felix began to whisk the melted chocolate, and you took this time to admire him. You stood at his side, allowing you to admire his side profile.

Felix was easily one of the most beautiful individuals you ever laid your eyes on. But his appearance wasn’t the only part you fell for — he was one of the few people whose inside beauty matched their outside beauty.

Felix was kind, funny, optimistic, and just about every positive adjective you could find in a dictionary. After every failed test, he was there with a cup of strawberry ice cream and a shoulder to cry on. When you landed your first job, he was there to celebrate with you even when your own family wasn’t. And when you and Minho mutually broke up, he was there to give you advice as you coped with the end of your first relationship.

How could you not fall for him?

And sometimes you had the feeling that he liked you back. The touches that would linger for just a few seconds too long, the soft smiles that Chan claimed he only ever gave to you, and his late-night texts all spurned a tiny hopeful fire in you that kept your crush alive.

No matter how many times you tried to get over him and convince yourself that your crush didn’t exist, the tiny voice in your head still spoke. “But what if he likes you back?”

Now, as Felix stood by your side with a soft smile on his face while he whisked the chocolate, that voice screamed louder than ever.

And just as you gained a sliver of courage, the same paralyzing thoughts that have held you back for the past few months returned.

Felix was out of your league in every way. He was social and easily commanded the attention of an entire room with so much as two words. His outward beauty matched his insides, and everyone on campus reached a collective agreement that if angels ever existed and walked among us — Lee Felix was certainly one of them.

And those things were only the tip of the iceberg that is Felix. He was talented, sensitive, supportive, passionate, and everything you could ever ask for and then some.

You then thought back to all the people he rejected - kindly, of course - and how you matched up to them. If Felix didn’t choose to go out with all those beautiful and talented people, what on Earth made you think you would choose you?

At this point, Felix picked up on your sudden silence and how your breaths grew heavy and uneven.

“Are you… alright?” he asked carefully, his own chest beating heavily.

You stared at him, panicked that he caught onto your apprehension. “Um…” you started, trailing off as you met his gaze.

Felix let go of the whisk and grabbed your hands. “You can say whatever you need to.”

“I uh,” you started after a few moments, internally battling yourself to gain courage as you realized that it’s now or never. “I kinda like you,” you admitted quietly, looking down at your intertwined hands anxiously. You waited for him to pull his hand away in disgust and start to kindly reject you like he did to all those other people, but it never came. After a few seconds, his hands still the entire time, you looked up at him with glassy eyes in confusion.

“What?” he finally said, his deep voice softer than ever.

You looked back down at your hands shamefully. “Do I really have to repeat it?” you asked weakly. “I like you, Felix. I have for the past few months and it’s been driving me insane because it feels like my heart’s about to stop dead whenever I see you and I can never think straight when you’re with me. Apparently, it’s been pretty obvious and I really tried my best to get over it so it wouldn’t hurt our friendship.

“Trust me, I really wanted to get over it but I couldn’t, and I know you don’t like me back so it’s ok. I can deal with it on my own and you can just leave a -”

“Y/N,” Felix said suddenly, his voice firm. You looked up, tears rolling down your face as you were sure that he was about to reject you.

“Felix please don’t interrupt me. At least let me finish what I have to say,” you pleaded softly, removing your hands from his.

“Y/N,” he repeated, his voice much gentler. He carefully wiped the tears from your face and took your hands into his again. “Can I say something before you finish?” he requested.

You choked back a sob as you nodded, certain that he was just going to let you down kindly.

“I like you too, Y/N,” he said shyly, a blush spreading across his freckled face.

Your entire body froze.

“I was too scared to admit it because I didn’t think you liked me back,” he continued, the words slowly registering in your mind. “To be honest, I thought you still liked Minho.”

You blushed at his words, thinking back to all the times you would pull Minho, your ex-boyfriend, to the side to talk about Felix these past few months. You didn’t realize how it must have looked to Felix or your other friends.

“I was also… afraid of ruining our friendship, so I’ve just kept it to myself the past two years.”

You gaped at him. “Two years?” you sputtered, causing him to laugh at the way your eyes widened comically. “That’s when we first started uni!”

He shrugged. “What can I say? I was instantly attracted to the way you fought Chan on why you should be allowed to keep the minifridge in your dorm,” he joked.

You blushed at the embarrassing memory, although it wasn’t completely regrettable as it was how you met most of your current friends — including Felix.

“I’m surprised,” you voiced simply. “I didn’t think you would ever like me back.” You breathed out, your muscles relaxing instantly.

Felix grinned again and he moved slowly to envelop you in his arms. He rested his hands on the small of your back and his head on the crook of your shoulder.

“Does this mean that I can take you out on a date?” he whispered.

“Will you promise to stop taking unflattering pictures of me and sending them to me in the middle of the night?” you asked, your head resting against his and arms around him.

He sighed. “Fine,” he answered reluctantly with a whine.

“Then sure,” you responded and pulled your head back to meet his eyes. His eyes shined from the sunlight pouring through the windows and his freckles glimmered like stars across a canvas. Felix was truly beautiful inside and out.

“You have some strawberry jam on your lip,” he said after a few silent moments where you both admired each other.

“Really?” you asked. Your hand moved from his back towards your face, but Felix caught your hand in midair and returned it to its original position.

“I’ll get it,” he murmured with a gentle smile before closing the distance between your lips.

You held your breath as he pressed his soft lips against yours. You instantly recognized the strawberry chapstick he uses and the taste of the shortbread cookies. He swiped his tongue against the corner of your lip, and the sudden sensation caused a shiver to run down your spine.

You brought your hand up to his hair and gently tugged at his dyed locks. Felix brought you closer to him and massaged your back as he deepened the kiss.

When you finally pulled away, your face was burning red and you were completely breathless. Felix was smiling giddily, his arms still around yours.

“I think there’s still some jam left,” he told you, not even giving you a second to respond before he pressed his lips against yours once again. This kiss was much more playful than the last as you giggled against each other in the kiss.

“Did you get it all?” you asked him, your voice reduced to a murmur as he continued kissing your lips.

He hummed, kissing you once and twice in between, before responding, “I don’t think so.”

You laughed against his lips. “Well, I guess you better get it all. I can’t have strawberries stuck on my lips all day.”

He laughed with you, and true to his words, he eventually did get all the strawberry jam off (an extra two hours and an uncountable amount of kisses later).

#lee felix #lee felix x reader #felix stray kids #lee felix fanfic #lee felix imagine #lee felix imagines #skz scenarios #skz #skz fanfic #skz x reader #skz x y/n #stray kids #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids felix #hyunjin #minho

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majesticbrownjawn · 5 years ago

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The Best Man

Things get complicated when the best man looks like him ⬆️ But probably not complicated in the way you’re thinking.

Oldie from Wattpad. ‼️Chris=Erik‼️ I ain’t feel like going thru and changing his name. Deal with it. I wrote it with Erik in mind though. Enjoy boos❤️

——————————

His hands unashamedly gripped her ass, making her jump in shock.

"We can't do this Chris..." her voice faded out in the most unconvincing way, letting him know she was enjoying the moment as much as he was. When he pressed his lips against hers, she kissed him back, forgetting where she was and focused on his tongue entering her mouth. Ms. Johnson was quickly brought back down to Earth when her phone started vibrating in her hand, reminding her it was almost time for the mother/son dance. Sanai was a stickler for things being on schedule and wanted everything to be perfect for Bryan's big day, which to her meant keeping to the strict time table she mapped out.

She finally broke away from the younger man, staring him down with a frustrated look before disappearing into the large crowd of people to find her pursuer's best friend and the groom--her son.

***

Sanai Johnson was a woman with a plan, well, at least since she had become a mother at the age of 16. She fell in love with her son's father, August, and she thought he felt the same until he disappeared six months into her pregnancy. He was from the other side of the tracks, the "right" side. His parents were wealthy and he had earned a scholarship to a prestigious university a few hours away. When he finally showed up fours years later begging for Sanai to take him back so they could be a family, it was way too little, too late. From the moment he stepped back into their lives, he proved to be a great father to Bryan, and that was all she wanted from him. He on the other hand, had just stopped confessing his love for her just over a year ago before their son's 25th birthday--when he showed up to Bryan's party with a woman who looked just a few years older than the birthday boy himself.

It was funny, after all these years of refusing him, Sanai was actually contemplating giving August another chance and then he shows up with with some young girl. Oh well, she thought. She had bigger fish to fry, like planning the wedding she never got to have. It's not that she couldn't have gotten married in the past or sometime in the future for that matter, she was still in her early 40s, but could easily pass for someone a decade younger. She'd loss count of all the times people mistook her for Bryan's sister. Her buxom figure, glowing skin and beautiful features added to her appeal, but she always fell just shy of being completely confident in her appearance.

Where she lacked confidence in the physical, she made up for it in business and street smarts. While August was doing God knows what those four years in college, she graduated from high school early and started working at a museum. Little did she know she'd fall in love with art history and would later become one of the most sought after and well paid art curators in the country. She got to where she was by working hard and staying focused, which for her didn't leave much room for romance.

The wedding weekend had finally come and the guests had started to arrive at her large estate. She planned a series of events designed to make the large 250 person guest list feel a little smaller. This first event, brunch, was purposely hosted at her home to make everyone feel a little more comfortable mingling and getting to know each other.

"Chris!" Bryan was ecstatic to see his best friend who was more like a big brother to him. He flew across the foyer and embraced Chris, who he hadn't seen in almost three years. The two met when Bryan was in the 7th grade and Chris was in the 10th grade at a basketball camp. Chris was Bryan's counselor and the youngster immediately took to the older boy, following him around and following his lead in almost anything he did, except when Chris moved to China. Ms. Johnson wasn't having that. Both men studied business at the same university and started learning Chinese in high school, continuing through college. After graduating, Chris decided to take a job in Beijing making just under seven figures at a budding tech start-up.

"It's been too long, man." Chris was just as excited to see his friend, but was always more reserved than him, being careful to save his energy for just the right time. He knew this weekend would be full of exciting and possibly emotionally draining moments, so he decided to ease his way in.

"So your mom got it like this now? No wonder she invited the wedding party to stay here. This place is massive." He looked around absolutely impressed with his surroundings.

"I know right? When's the last time you've seen her? Like right after I graduated?"

"Yea--high school, I think. Maybe when you moved into your dorm freshman year."

"Well, she's around here somewhere. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you. Let me show you where you'll be staying."

***

Sanai was the kind of woman who always had things under control, but her son's wedding had her out of sorts. She was so hell-bent on everything being perfect that she was stressing about every little detail. She did a self-check about 30 minutes ago, realizing her worries were affecting the time she was having, so she took a couple mimosas to the head to take the edge off.

After settling in, Chris made his way back downstairs and gave himself a tour of the home. Along the way, there was a woman who he couldn't stop looking at from afar as she weaved in and out of the crowd. The red dress she wore was what caught his eye first. Then as he closed in on her, her familiar smile pulled him in, making him wonder if he and Bryan went to college with her because she seemed to know a lot of people here. He approached her from behind, placing his hand on the small of her back and leaned into her, introducing himself.

"Hi, I'm Chris. Do I know you? You look so familiar." When she turned around and he finally got an up close look at her, he immediately knew who she was. "Ms. Johnson?"

She smiled and answered, "In the flesh." Instead of letting her go, he froze, still holding her close as she now faced him.

"Uh, uh--it's good to see you," he finally spoke up, his arm still holding her tight. "You haven't aged a day. You're so...beautiful," he blurted out. It was like he was seeing her for the time. In a way he was, this was his first time seeing her as a man.

"Thank you, Chris. It's good to see you too," she replied blandly, gently patting him on his chest, trying to release herself from his grip. Despite trying to get away from him, Sanai certainly noticed what a handsome man Chris had become. She was on the taller side for a woman, but he easily towered over her at 6'4". His frame was full, with just the right amount of grown man thickness she liked. The rest of brunch Sanai was slightly distracted by Chris, partly because she was so shocked at how much he'd grown up and also because she thought she caught him watching her. It was probably just her imagining things.

That night after dinner at the house with the bridal party, Sanai was cleaning up the living area when she felt a quiet presence enter the space.

"Can I help, Ms. Johnson?"

"Oh, please call me Sanai, you're grown now, Chris."

"Ok. So tell me Sanai, what's your secret?" She looked at him confused. "I meant what I said earlier. You haven't aged. It's incredible. You look incredible." He didn't try to hide the fact that his eyes couldn't stop taking her body in.

She blushed at his comment but tried her best not to act phased by his repeated mention of her looks.

"Well, you certainly have changed."

"I hope that's a good thing," he smirked. "How are you dealing with Bryan getting married? I assume it can't be easy to let go of your only child. And you're single, right? I'm sure you've thought about how lonely it may get, him not being around as much."

"Bryan has been on his own for a while now. I'll manage."

"How?"

"How what?"

"How will you manage, Ms. Johnson?" His tone seemed a bit suggestive, but she figured maybe it was the wine she drank playing tricks on her.

He was, of course being suggestive in the slightest way. His immediate attraction her earlier today threw him off initially, but that wasn't going to happen again this weekend. He decided everything else he'd say and hopefully do to her his weekend would be very deliberate.

"I mean, I'm sure you have needs, right?" He moved closer to her, so close that she had no choice but to look at him As his tilted his head sideways at her seductively.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"I think you know exactly what I mean, Sanai." Chris' hand slowly traced up the side of her body, carefully following the curve of her hip upwards, stopping just below her bust. She watched his hand closely, allowing his touch to send a shiver up her spine.

"Your behavior is so inappropriate Chris." She said it so sternly that he momentarily forgot he was a grown ass man now who could pursue her without worrying about getting in 'trouble.'

He lifted his hands in surrender and openly watched her as she nervously cleaned up a few more things before heading upstairs. He noticed the way her breathing picked up when he touched her. The goosebumps on her arms told him she enjoyed his hands on her, despite her calling his actions "inappropriate." Chris laid in the bed that night, thinking about her and trying his best to ignore the nagging feeling of his dick hard-pressed against his shorts. The hornier and unsatisfied he was, he figured, the more persistent he'd be about getting a taste of Ms. Johnson.

***

The following afternoon, the bridal party gathered in the foyer of Sanai's home to learn the tango for the reception. After the instructor paired everyone up, Sanai noticed Chris was missing, but remembered he didn't have a partner because as the best man, it was his job to walk the grandmothers and her down the aisle.

"Looking for me?" She jumped at the sound of his voice.

"No, Chris. Why would I be?" She figured if she acted like she was uninterested in his attention that he'd leave her alone. She had another thing coming though. The more time Chris spent in her presence, the more his desire for her increased. Even if he wasn't able to see straight through her hard-to-get act, it wouldn't have stopped him from doing all he could to get her.

He bent down and bowed, lifting his hand to hers, "May I have this dance?" He grabbed her hand but she quickly yanked it away.

"Come on, don't be like that, Sanai."

"Maybe you should call me Ms. Johnson after all."

"I'll call you whatever you want. Just dance with me. Please." He was a little surprised when she took his hand and stood close to him. He took the lead, already familiar with the sensual dance. His hand rested low on her back and he used it to push her lower half into his. Front to front, Sanai could feel Chris' bulge brushing up against her as they moved across the foyer.

"You know I had a crush on you back in the day right?" He whispered closely to her face.

"Excuse me?" She cackled at his comment but he pulled her closer, feeling like she'd walk away from him at any second.

"Honestly, I wasn't even tryna be Bryan's friend at first when we were kids...I just needed an excuse to be around you," he continued. "You were just so creative and kind. I didn't know a mother could be so damn beautiful." Sanai blushed at his memory of her.

"I used to love to come over so I could see you walk around the house in those baggy t-shirts with no bra. Watching you in them little ass shorts had me on hard every time. I can't tell you how many times I had wet dreams about you, Ms. Johnson."

Sanai could feel Chris' excitement pressing up against her. Wisdom urged her to break away from him, but her body begged her to stay put. It had been so long since she allowed a man to be this close to her. And he just smelled and looked so good.

"Are you serious? Why are you telling me this now?" She shouldn't have asked, but her curiosity and her attraction to him was getting the best of her.

"Because it's the truth...and because I always fantasize about being close to you, just like this." The pair was face to face, their foreheads pressed against the other's. Lucky for them, no one would think anything of it because the tango called for that intimate positioning.

"You always fantasize? Or you used to?" She asked her question while looking him square in the eyes.

"Can I cut in?" Bryan's father looked at Chris suspiciously for a moment before taking Sanai's hand and trying to shake off the notion that his son's best friend was doing what it looked like he was doing—pushing up on Sanai. Their interaction would have looked innocent to the average person, but August recognized game when he saw it. He stayed close to Sanai the rest of the day just in case his suspicions about Chris were correct.

***

Hey, can you come downstairs for a minute please?

The text came in to Sanai's phone after 1 a.m. that night.

Who is this?

Guess 😈

I don't have time for games. Who is this?

It's Chris. I want to apologize.

Sanai made her way downstairs cautiously, as not to wake anyone in the house. When she laid eyes on him, she immediately knew she was in trouble. Chris wore a pair of silk pajama pants that left little for her to imagine about how girthy he was and the way his arms looked in the wife beater he wore was already doing things to her.

"He's Bryan's best friend..." She reminded herself as she approached him.

"Do you always talk to yourself?"

"Don't be cute, Chris."

"I hope I'm cute to you."

"I thought you want to apologize for your behavior?"

"Oh yea, I do." The pair was whispering trying not to wake anyone, especially Bryan. It would be hard to explain why they were down here whispering at this hour. Her home was large enough that no one would have heard them anyway, but that fact eluded them both in the moment. "Is there somewhere we can talk without having to whisper?" he asked.

She looked him over trying to decide if she could trust him being alone with her. He'd been so bold the last few days.

She decided she probably couldn't trust him, but still answered, "Sure, follow me."

***

So there are three, maybe four 🤔completed parts to this miniseries but the series itself isn’t completed. Hopefully posting this here will motivate me to finally finish it (it’s been like two years 🥴) I know y’all are waiting on Delicte part 4. Wrote on it some tonight and plan to have it up in the next week. Thanks for reading🖤

#erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #killmonger x black!reader #erik killmonger fic #michael b jordan

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roses-ruby · 6 years ago

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{Bunny Cam}

Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre: Stalker AU, Angst, Smut, Mature

Warnings: Masturbation, Oral (Male receiving), Sex but not really, Obsessive/Possessive behavior, Toxic relationships, Yandere, Cursing, Spanking, Homophobia, Mentions of a slur, Mentions of gore, Murder, People being shitty

Word Count: 14,242

Summary: He watches when you sleep, he knows if you’re awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be bad only if you dare.

A/N: Lmao, the summary fucking sucks akfbkfbouhfo (so does the story). I planned this for kookie’s birthday but I wasn’t finished so fuck me. This is pretty dark so please be careful and make sure you read the warning! Edited but I’m always a dumbass so let me know if you find any mistakes. Also let me know what ya’ll think🥺 As always, enjoy!

He’d been at this for a while.

Well, a while could mean a considerable number of things. Let’s say he’s been at this for a long time; more accurately 3 years. He had your schedule memorized to a fault. The way you liked your eggs in the morning to the number of panties you owned, he could answer it in his sleep. He probably does, he thinks. Mumble about you in his sleep. You occupied his mind 24 hours in a day, and that’s why he felt he should be watching you all the time – like right now, as he sits uncomfortably on top of the willow tree next to your window. Perched in a posture that embarrasses him, with a branch digging into his inner thigh.

It’s all worth it when you finally come out from your steaming bathroom, a towel hanging dangerously low on your chest, showing the beginnings of your soft mounds. He almost moans at the sight, both from frustration at your tardiness and the sudden tightening of his crotch. Positioning his camera in front of his face, he eyes your figure through the lens. Careless yet graceful, you dance around your room from one end to another picking up your laundry and placing it in a basket. His camera softly shutters each time he decides to save a pose from you, which happens a lot. He wonders if he’ll get lucky once you head to your dresser and pick out a light orange sundress. A smile graces his features at your choice. It was one of his favorite dresses on you. But sadly, luck was not on his side as you come up to the window and shut the eggshell curtains on him.

Huffing, he sits up a tad to find the ledge he uses to exit the tree with his leg.

He learned the hard way that once you closed your curtains, you usually don’t open them for the rest of the day; so now he has to head home. He was disappointed of course, he wanted to continue watching you – especially in that dress. But its fine, better things await him at his house. Shoving his camera inside his satchel, he jumps off your back porch and runs to the alleyway a few meters from your place. There in the dark lane lays his locked bike, which he unlocks and hops on – beginning his ride home. He lived a few blocks away from you, not having the money to live in your side of town; but once he did, he planned on becoming your neighbor. It didn’t matter if you already had one, he knew he could take care of them easily.

After peddling for around a mile, he parks his bike near the run-down, motel-like apartment complex he lived in. Binding it to the rusted and useless ‘Cheap rooms available!’ board pole, he runs up the stairs to the second floor. The whole place was dirty, rat and roaches scurrying the floors ever so often, and there was a strong musty smell that enclosed the compound. The paint from the walls was chipping – tainted by unrecognizable stains and the wooden foundation grew mold. He hated this place, even if the rent made up for the appearance. Often, he would get into a quarrel with the land-owner, despising the man’s careless attitude towards the residence as well as toward his own rotten teeth and hairy chest. One day, he’d love to grab a blade and slice it right through the old man’s heart, but he promised you he’d only kill for you. Stomping his way past the ancient doors, he makes it to his own and slams it shut once inside.

His sanctuary.

Switching on the light of his small studio, he walks to the computer, settling his bag down by the twin bed. He scratches under his ribs over his hoodie as he settles into his chair. The tree by your house was filled with blood sucking bugs and he should probably do something about it, but he’s always so distracted by you he barely remembers to get other shit done. There was evidence of that scattered all over his cramped space, especially the floor. The 4 walls surrounding him are filled with photos of you on various days and angles. Polaroids of you hang in a line from a string on the ceiling, stretching out from one end of the room to the other. In front of him are multiple monitors, which he opens to reveal a video of you on your bed in your room. He lets out a content sigh at the sight of your calm form laying on your bed with a book. Your beauty shone even through the grainy pixels of the tiny spycam he hid in your room.

Moving the live feed to the smaller monitor on the right, he pulls up the spycam taping your bathroom, or more so your shower. He shuffles around his desk, picking up an open beer can from underneath his table. Relaxing back in his chair, he rewinds the broadcast to around 40 minutes ago, taking a sip of his drink. There you were, climbing into your shower, closing the glass door behind you. His eyes greedily graze your naked form, your radiant skin, the curve of your slender back, the way your nipples perked forward at the cold air. He was so glad he spent the extra money on this spycam with higher definition than the others hidden around your house, even if it left him broke for a month. His breath hitches when you slightly bend down to turn on the faucet, messing with the knob to get the perfect temperature for your shower with your ass on display. What he wouldn’t give to spread your cheeks apart, run his tongue along your folds and anus, drive his thick fingers deep into your cunt and have you dripping down his arm.

He didn’t notice how hard he was clenching the aluminum can until it exploded all over him, soaking through his jeans and hoodie. Groaning he picks up the tissue box next to his bed and begins wiping himself off. It was good that he became distracted before he could get too worked up, it was still light out and he didn’t want to be spent before midnight again. Throwing the tissues next to the other used tissues on the floor he gets back to doing his favorite thing. Pausing the window of your shower he brings back the live feed of you in your room to the main monitor. He smiles at you still lounging on your bed, the book placed over your chest as you scrolled away on your phone. You could be so lazy on the weekends, he cooed at your leg haphazardly dangling off the side of the bed. He loved it when you stayed indoors by yourself like a good little girl, it meant he could have you all to himself for the periods he spent watching you. It was just him and you, no one who could disturb his time between you both.

It isn’t clear to him when exactly you stopped connecting with the outer world. Perhaps it was when your lovers mysteriously vanished 3 years ago, or when men stopped trying to flirt with you all together. He recalls how scared you had been when officers came to interrogate you, and as bad as he felt – as much as he wanted to blow the heads off their burly bodies – he knew you deserved it for thinking you could make room in your life for anyone that wasn’t him. Or maybe it was because your best friend refused to talk to you ever again; a small rumor making its way to her ear about how you slept with her dad. Which was easy to believe seeing how he’d been fucking girls younger than his daughter for years. Most likely it’s when your parents cut off contact with you, the reigning black sheep of the family, when they received the sex tape you shot with your ex marked from you. An ex he ended up smashing each finger off of. Whatever it was, it was definitely because the gods had blessed him. You were meant for him and only him, and the circumstances that had all seemed to work in his favor only solidified that fact.

It was when he was off reminiscing about the most important years of his life that he bumped his leg into a hard brick-like object under his desk.

“Fuck,” He curses as his legs feels a light ting. Rolling back in his chair, he stares at the culprit that was the large stack of white paper. The manager had handed it all to him yesterday after he finished his second week of overtime; ‘to be stapled and collated’ he said. That motherfucker. Because of him – not only did Jungkook not have time to get home earlier to you, but he had to haul the hefty pile of papers uphill on his bike.

Whatever he thought about that guy doesn’t matter – he should get started on this task soon. Since this job is the one job he can’t afford to lose. So, with a heavy heart the young man clears his desk of the old ramen containers and sperm tissues and empty weed bags with one swift arm movement, cringing when he hears them hit the floor. Bending down, he easily heaves the stack up onto his now empty desk and begins to shuffle through them. Then he looks back up at you who’s back to reading her novel. If there was one thing he’d never do, it was show you how much of a slob he actually was. He couldn’t bear the thought of you finding him disgusting, so when he finally got you, he knew he’d do all the cleaning and housework. And that was fine with him, as long as he got to enjoy being a bit filthy while he was alone in this dreaded place. You would never find out, of course.

He starts to read the first document he grabs, something useless about company liability. Then he moves on to the next one, and the next. Until his mind is full of words and a yawn is crawling up his throat. Jungkook eyes you every few minutes or so, making sure you were still be his good girl. And that’s how he ends up spending his energy that day.

He wakes up with a large intake, forcing himself to sit up with his nose feeling strangely stuffed and his spine aching. As he adjusts his groggy vision, he notices the documents in a neater stack on the edge of his desk. That’s when he recalls the night before – how he was double tasking while trying to keep an eye on you lounging about. How you both took a break for dinner and watch some stupid melodrama with that tall actor you liked. And how he finally fell asleep on his desk at 2 in the morning while stapling said documents after you turned your lights off.

Jungkook didn’t have money for night vision cameras yet, but he was working on it! It sucks that everything was so expensive these days, especially love.

Yawning, he stretches his arms and back as he opens his sleeping screens hoping to see your face to cheer up his otherwise crappy consciousness. His face quickly falls however, when he notices you’re not in your bedroom or bathroom or living room or even your driveway.

Shit.

He freaks out and jumps out of his chair in sore legs, reaching for his bag on the bed.

9:12 his phone displays – making his round face turn pale. Running around in his room, he rushes to get ready. His bladder was especially full of the beers from last night. Other than that, there wasn’t much he had worry about since everything could be easily completed by multitasking. Such as brushing your teeth while pulling up your socks or combing your hair and looping your belt. After chaotically tying his white striped tie around his collared neck, he spritzes on the expensive cologne you once mentioned you like on a man, spraying on a bit more than usual since he hadn’t had time to shower. With that, he stuffs the skillfully collated and stapled documents into his black leather satchel and sprints out the door.

20 minutes later he was in front of the 25-story glass building. His nerves were eating at him as he hastily locked in his bike and entered the automatic doors. In front of him stood a black suited man in shades with his arms crossed.

As Jungkook jogged up a couple steps, the man raised his huge hand to stop him.

“I.D. please,” He spoke in a gruff voice

“Right,” Jungkook zipped open the front pocket of his satchel and brought out an employee I.D., swinging it around his neck. The man stepped aside, and he let Jungkook scan his I.D. in the machine next to him, that let out a green light afterward – letting him inside the small screen doors. He exhaled a breath, continuing his run to the elevators and punching in his floor. His insides felt like they were plummeting the whole ride up.

He really just wanted to quietly go to his desk, without making any ruckus or causing a scene but luck wasn’t on his side this time as the first person he sees when the doors slide open is his aging supervisor and his scowl. Once the man thoroughly eyes him in minor surprise of running into him, he frowns.

“You’re late,” The man grit through his yellow teeth

“I’m s-sorry, sir. I was up all night an-”

“I didn’t ask for excuses Jeon,” He sneers, “This is the second time this month, once more and I’ll have you kicked out of here- ass first, understand?”

“Yes sir,” Jungkook bows and steps aside to let the man use the elevator.

Before the doors slide close, his supervisor gives him another threatening glare. “Did you finish what I ordered? I’ll be back soon, and I better not find one mistake on those documents, you hear me Jeon?

“Yes sir” Like hell you’ll be back soon, you aging bastard.

Once he’s out of sight, Jungkook let’s out a sigh. He thought he was gonna lose his job today for sure. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Mr. Jang to act this way towards him and most of the team. The only people – correction women he’s nice to are the ones he finds fuckable. Still, he’s glad this didn’t happen in front of you.

He opens the doors to the office space, breathing in the cold air conditioning and watching everyone scurry about as usual. Some girls glance at him as he indifferently passes them on his way to his corner. His desk was luckily located with yours directly in front. Even though yours was closer to the Manager’s office and his was further back near the conference room. When he sits down in his chair, he notices you’re not at your desk. For a few minutes, he just eyes your empty area with confusion. The worry he felt this morning crawling back into his system.

But it quickly dissipates once you make your way out of the manager’s office, a few files in tucked under your right arm. Jungkook’s mood easily shifts at the sight of you and his heart starts to beat faster. He couldn’t go too long without seeing you, your graceful figure in that tight pencil skirt flawlessly hugging your hips. You sat at the front with rest of Team A who you supervised. Your side of the lineup were considered company gems; the pay was better, working conditions were more lenient and you all even had a dental plan. Sadly, thanks to him not knowing what to do and ultimately dropping out of college, he was grouped into Team B – the dispensable ones. His group was overworked and underpaid – even though the company made it seem like they treated all their employees equally. That was total bullshit.

And they had the worst fucking supervisor. An ancient stickler tyrant who acted like he was stepping out for business when Jungkook knew he was out fucking some blonde prostitute he was obsessed with in some cheap motel behind his sick wife’s back. Nothing in this company benefitted him. Not the pay, not the hours, and definitely not the bitchass supervisor. Nevertheless, he slaved all his days in this building for you. Looking up in your direction again, he smiles. He got to see you every day and that was enough for him. As long as you remained here, he would never quit. Just then a scowl made its way onto his soft features. What were you doing in the manager’s office half the time? Jungkook knew it wasn’t anything like that – that you were just doing your job, but doesn’t he call you in way too many times a day? His fingers clenched the strap of his bag as Jungkook thought about that man making a move on you.

You’re not good enough.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the clacking of heels and a pleasant scent light up his area.

“Jungkook?”

He jumps when he hears your voice, rolling back slightly. There – in front of him you stood with a large halo surrounding your figure. His throat feels caught as you meet his eyes and raise an eyebrow. You were the most beautiful being in the universe, he bet even angels compared themselves to you. But they wouldn’t hold a candle. Jungkook felt over the moon at your proximity, cameras couldn’t capture the absolute divinity you embodied so casually. The tip of your nose, the smoothness of your glowing skin, the light makeup over your eyelids. Even the posture you stood in was lethal. Everything was luring him in until he was completely lost and at your mercy, and he’s certain that showed on his face. He sucks in a breath as he hears you speak again, some uneasiness in your melodious tone.

“Umm…you’re Jungkook, correct?”

As he processes your expression at his odd behavior, he forces himself out of his reverie. Can’t have you thinking he’s a weirdo.

“Y-Y…Yes,” He manages

“Oh, good. I was just wondering if you have those documents Mr. Jang asked for? He called to tell me he would be a bit late and if I could retrieve them and give them to Mr. Kim”

Jungkook had always wanted to skin the face off his supervisor, but in this moment, he’s never adored a man more in his life. You actually came all the way over here and talked to Jungkook because of that old man’s incompetence. He hopes Mr. Jang receives the blowjob of his life today.

You eye the boy staring at you with wide bunny eyes. He was always so strange, you wondered why your female colleagues gushed over him so much. You were about to speak again when he stands up straight – making your startled feet shift backwards slightly.

“Umm…Yes!! I have them,” Jungkook states with his voice higher than usual. He opens his satchel and digs out all the documents, presenting them to you with one hand.

“Oh, thank you,” As soon as you reach out for them and bumped your hand into his accidently, he let’s all the documents go. They fall to the floor with a loud ‘thunk’ making a few heads in the neighboring desks turn your way. “Oops.”

You bend to the ground, gathering up all the paper once again. Most of them were in stapled piles, so thankfully they didn’t scatter around too much. When you assembled the bunch, you look back up at him from your position on the floor. His eyes seemed like they would pop out of his skull and you thought you heard him gulp as he continued to observe your position on the ground. Slowly you stand up straight, feeling unnerved.

“Thank you,” You say once again holding the documents on your chest. When you fail to obtain a response, you just awkwardly turn around, sensing his eyes following you all the way back to your desk.

What a weird guy.

Jungkook’s legs feel like a frail horse once he makes it back home. Trudging up the stairs and into his room with a slumped back, he jumps right into bed and kicks off his office shoes. He covers his eyes with his arms.

Then he smiles, stretching his pink lips and displaying his bunny teeth. He smiles so big and wide.

Wow. Wow. Wow. WOW.

You graced his presence. You talked to him. You even touched him.

Holding his face in his hands, he rolls around the compact bed like a teenage girl. Holy shit. This was real.

It’s not that you hadn’t spoken to him before – I mean you both did work in the same company for years and he’s wrote down previous dates of conversations in his both his calendar and journal. But you’ve never made this much eye contact, he’s never got to study your face this close for so long, and you definitely had never touched him. He almost exploded right then.

And then, the part that virtually killed him. You were on your knees…right below him. Innocently staring back up at him. FUCK!

Jungkook groans as recalling that image has him hard instantly. His mind was racing, and he felt he was going crazy with his body temperature continuing to climb. The sun was just beginning to set which let orange streaks of light into his room through the blinds. He huffs as his hand caresses down his torso to grab his bulge, hissing when his fingers make contact. Swiftly, he unbuckles his slacks, pulling them off his butt to rest on his knees. He continues to fondle his hard on through his briefs, moaning when imagining your soft hand instead of his much larger one.

His imagination takes him back a few hours ago, with you on your knees in front of him. But this time there’s no documents on the floor to pick up. This time, no one else is around the chattery office space – unworthy peasants breathing the same air as you. This time, your eyes have a dark undertone in them as you sit there without any clothes on. Your skin was as smooth as porcelain, color reflecting the ceiling lights of the office. He holds his breath when you take your right breast in your hand, pinching your perky nipple with your thumb and index finger. No distractions. No distance. It’s just you and him, and this heavy atmosphere.

“Jungkook,” You say in a sultry tone, crawling closer to him on all fours.

“Fuck,” He curses as you hook your fingers into the waist band of his underwear, slowly pulling the cloth down with a smirk. Jungkook catches a tiny gasp from you as his erection springs up to his stomach in front of your face. You lightly grab the underside of his shaft as his breathing becomes heavy. Poking your tongue out – you lick a stripe up his dick, and he tenses, shoulders rolling back with a shiver. With a mischievous glint, you bring your tongue around the top, swirling his precum over his head while tracing a vein up his shaft with a manicured finger. Your hand bobs up and down his dick as you continue to skillfully twirl your tongue around the tip. His hand clenches tightly as you wrap your pretty lips around the head and hallow out your cheeks to suck.

“Ahhnn,” He hopes you don’t mind his loud, sort of feminine moans. But he still bites his lip to suppress them.

You remove yourself with a pop. Your hand was still gripping around his dick, steadily moving along his rod. Stretching your lips, you wink up at him and he has to do everything in his power not to fall to the ground. He was light headed with lust clouding his vision. The room had gotten dimmer sometime ago, he could only make you out as he did this morning. Your strawberry scent invading his rationality as you sat in front of him. Your honey tone as you repeated his name. The way your red lips curved with every syllable you spoke. Lips you were once again opening as he took your luscious locks in his fingers and directed his dick along your mouth. For a moment he just traced around your lips, glossing them with precum. These lips were his possession along with the rest of you, only he gets to claim them. Then he brought his head back inside your mouth, watching you take all of him in with hooded eyes. Inching his way inside, he saw your jaw go slack and lids flutter the more he forced himself in. You looked so beautiful with tears surrounding your sockets as you struggled to breath when he hit the back of your throat.

“You’re so perfect baby,” Your warm cavern was made for this – for him. Once he feels your throat muscles relax against him, he takes himself out ever so slow, obsessed with how wet his dick became with your saliva. Just to push himself inside again, holding your head down as you struggled. He threw his head back, failing to keep his moans quiet as you gagged around him with your nails pushing at his thighs. Tightening his fingers amongst your hair, he pulled your head back with force before he stuffed you full of himself once again.

He keeps that pace swift and harsh, frustrated at how you were always a few feet from him yet still so far away. This is what he needs, what he craves. His heart beats harder every time he shoves into your wet entrance, watching the way hot tears roll down your cheek but you don’t try to fight off his brutal thrusts. Saliva was sticking at the edge of your lips; your jaw was practically unhinged at his girth and lipstick was smeared all over his dick. You let him use your face like a fuck doll, rolling your eyes into the back of your head as he speeds up with his orgasm approaching.

“You – you’re so beautiful,” He grunts with every thrust “My angel, my doll, my fuck toy. M-Mine. Mine. Mine.”

Words slurred against his mouth as you laid your tongue flat against his shaft, slick dripping of your chin. As his arms fell to his sides, you once again took control of bobbing your mouth and hand against his length. It was really just himself and his own fingers but God he could imagine it so well. He could retrace every part of your body – practically ingrained in his mind from how much time he spent stalking observing you. Hours would go by of him watching you masturbate. Memorizing each facial expression of yours. Thirsting for your heat – this thirst, this is exactly how’d you feel. Jungkook could practically taste it.

He cums with one last push inside your warm mouth and a loud cry of your name.

Opening his eyes, he takes in large breaths gaping at the ceiling of his apartment. Holy fuck, it’d been a while since he came so hard. Chest moving up and down – it takes a moment for him to calm himself. Still high off your pretty face stuffed with his dick. He lays limp in his bed, bringing his hand up to see the insane amount of cum covering his palm. This part always brought him an odd grief. Having to ‘wake up.’ Be alone in his dirty room with your divine company no longer in sight. There was an empty feeling, not just in his balls but in his heart. It was all your fault. Coming near him with those big doe eyes, practically begging him to fuck you on your knees. Yet you wouldn’t let him…not right now. Fuck. Fuck you.

Jungkook knew it wasn’t the right time, that you didn’t know him well enough for him to make a move, but his patience was wearing thin. He had to act fast since he desperately wanted this dream to become a reality.

You were typing away at your keyboard screen, finishing whatever goddamn report of the month. At this point, you were moving in autopilot not even registering any words that were making their way onto the screen. Your back aches as you sigh, you really hated this job. If the pay wasn’t so good, you would’ve quit so long ago. The only good thing about this company was the dental plan really, and the big house you got to afford due to your wages. Co-workers of yours were snarky pieces of shit who excluded you in any activities due to you being the boss’ favorite. Communicating with them was always troublesome, which is why you were here working overtime alone on this 4-person job. At least your co-supervisor was a nice old guy who acted like a gentleman. Really trashy towards his own team though and you were pretty sure he was cheating on his sick wife. When you were almost done with the last paragraph, your phone next to your coffee mug decided to buzz and interrupt the silent, dim office space.

You pick it up reluctantly, already knowing who’d be behind the bright screen. As usual, your misery proves you correct as the name of your arrogant dick for a boss flashes on your phone screen. He was one of those types; the men that feel like they’ve led a hard-working life because they went to a prestigious college without a sport’s scholarship even if they enrolled with their rich parent’s money. Any sort of self-reflection towards their privilege fails to register within them. This man called you for fifty things a day even though he had his own slutty secretary on her knees every time he asked. Maybe you’d feel for the girl if she wasn’t scowling at you whenever you passed by her desk to reach his office. You knew she hated you because he had a thing for you. When he wasn’t calling you in just to subtly check out your ass, he was making passive sexual remarks in completely normal work-related conversations.

It’s not like you didn’t find him attractive. He was tall, dark and you knew he was eating rich with how much time you spent eyeing his muscles. But god was he dumb as fuck. And he didn’t enthuse you any bit, other than maybe imagining him pounding into you from behind with his thick fingers wrapped around your neck. Sexual attraction was normal you suppose – you were two young attractive adults after all. But other than that, you really desired nothing to do with him. Actually, you desired no relationship with anyone at all, for that matter.

Since your last boyfriend’s disappearance three years ago, you recall being too scared to date for a while. Staying at home 24/7 and opting to buy some large dildos in the place of men. But that fear had left you long ago. Slowly, you became someone who just didn’t care in searching for fairytale romance or a passionate night with the love of your life. Instead you just wanted to feel the thrill of being alive, that ecstasy of feeling afraid – waiting for the unknown. You wanted to feel like you did when you saw your dead boyfriend’s horribly mutilated corpse. But that moment had fled too fast and everything around you had become predictable in some gloomy, miserable pattern – with nothing to excite you. Your life had actually become so unbearably boring that you had all the time in the world to accept these insane thoughts into your head, with no one to stop you from so. There was no point in shame any longer, you had your fair share of that when your isolation first started turning you insane.

The more reclusive you stayed, the more apathetic you became.

Sighing, you click on his name to see what he wanted with you at this lovely time of the evening.

‘Had Lana review the documents

She said a page is missing from the last stack

Ask the intern about it’

Of course, he would think Jungkook was an intern. He surely paid him like one. You look up at his empty desk. For once in their despondent lifespan, Team B was allowed to head home on time. Great that meant you’d have to talk to that oddball again in the morning. Lost in thought at your dreadful near future, you get startled as your phone buzzes yet again.

‘More importantly, we’re still up for tmrw night, right?😉’

Staring at the screen with insignificance, you type your reply with bitter fingers.

‘Of course, sir❤’

When you’re about to type him a reply for the ‘intern’ text, a twinkle from across the room catches your eye. You glance back up to see the outline of an unfamiliar object on Jungkook’s desk. Peering into the indistinct space, you desperately tried to make out what was sticking up from his otherwise flat desktop. Oh, right! It hit you then – that was the black bag he carries around daily.

Honestly, you always thought he was weird, and you didn’t pay much attention to Jungkook. Writing him off as another tedious side character that appears in your timeline here and there. The ladies of the office surely seemed to disagree with you, obsessively gushing over his bunny-like features and sturdy physique. Little boys like him didn’t interest you. But you did find yourself studying him sometimes – you’ve always been a curious person – which is why you knew he carried that bag everywhere with him, never letting it out of his sight. Even today, he handed you the pile of papers straight from that satchel. He kept everything in there, how could he forget it here?! Although…he did look out of it the whole day today after your small interaction with him. Maybe he was unwell?

Whatever it was, the situation at hand was more important. If you told your boss Jungkook had left for home, even though he had every right to, he might get fired. That man was impulsive and became furious over the dumbest situations. He once fired an employee that gave 16 years to this company for not ‘ordering the right cupcakes for his favorite client.’ Groaning, you stand up and walk across the office to Jungkook’s desk, your heels clacking amongst the floor. As you thought, it really was his bag that was thrown on his desk.

It wasn’t right to look through his things and you didn’t want to, but you couldn’t have this young man losing his job over something as small as this. Something you can easily fix…hopefully. But why should his status at the company concern you in the least anyway? If he is or isn’t thrown out, it wouldn’t harm your life in at all. Crossing your arms in irritation at the headache starting from the battle of your moral interpretations, you reason that it wouldn’t hurt you to do one kind thing. Perhaps it might land you that promotion you were seeking tomorrow.

You felt bad. Your gut told you something was wrong. What if it’s not in there and you just invade his privacy for no good reason?

With reluctance you grabbed his bag, opening the zipper in slow motion.

Jungkook was peddling as fast as he could. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID. How could he be so stupid. The whole fiasco with you talking to him today and his stupid hormones made him overlook something important. It was ridiculous how he was more concerned in getting home and jerking off to you then paying attention to any of his surroundings. Shit. If only you knew of the power you had over him. He didn’t even remember the dumb item until he was looking for his expensive camera when he recalled leaving it in that bag and leaving said bag back at his desk! Everyone had probably gone home by now, right? He knows some of the janitors steal from the pricks of Team A, but if a whole leather bag is on his desk won’t they at least take a glimpse? SHIT. Jungkook pushes his feet down on the peddles with great force, practically flying towards the workplace like a car.

There wasn’t any way he could afford for anyone to see what was on that camera.

Barging into the office on two left legs, he wheezes with his palms on his knees as he surveils the area around him. Most of the lights are off and the room is empty of life or noise. In a hurry, he had run into some of the caretakers downstairs and they told him they didn’t start on his floor yet. Out of habit, he glances at your desk, to find you staring at him with wide eyes. He straightens himself immediately, closing his mouth along with the racket of his breaths.

Why were you still here?

You had your hands hovering the keyboard and a fresh batch of coffee stood next to you. Were you supposed to be working overtime today? He thought it was tomorrow because he memorized your schedule for this month last week. Did your plans change without him knowing?

As he continues to leer at you, you clear your throat which makes him snap out of his daydream. Carefully, he turns away from you walking towards his desk. The bag is still right where he left it. He knows he can just grab it and go, but the fact that you’re here with him…alone of all things. How good could today get? Fuck, he thought he drained himself enough for today, but his mind was still racing with substantial thoughts. Would it be okay if he talks to you? Maybe he could help you out in whatever you were working on. Before he could get too far and freak you out, he grabs his bag and swings it around his shoulder. Turning around again he takes slow step, trying to seem casual. Was he walking too awkwardly? Did he look good in this hoodie?

When he’s a couple steps from the door, you call out to him.

“Jungkook?”

He faces you with giant deer eyes, “Yes?”

“I received a text from Mr. Kim stating that the last page from the documents you gave me this morning was missing. Do you think you have it in your bag?”

He takes a moment to process what you said, “Yes? Um…Oh right,” He begins digging in his satchel. And there it was, one single page – stuck to the bottom, ripped from the edge where it was originally stapled. The corner of his lip perks up when he finds his camera on top of the document. “Here you go”

Walking over to you, he hands out the paper and you notice it shaking in his fingers.

“Thank you, that’s all.” You say, gently taking the paper from his trembling grasp. Setting it down aside, you pick up your mug to take a sip of your coffee. It was still steaming so you blow on it slightly, puckering your lips. That’s when you notice the shadow in your peripheral vison. You look up to find Jungkook – still as a tree – gawking at you behind an unreadable expression.

“Yes?” You say in a confused tone

“N-no nothing” He stutters, clutching the straps of his bag tightly. “Sorry,” He states, before walking away from you. Turning his head subtly, he gives you one last glance before he heads out the door.

Jungkook was sure he was going to pop open his knuckles as his characters dies once again. He had been gaming for what – two hours straight? His room was lit with only his PC’s screens, and he’s sure his eyes would drop out of his sockets if he doesn’t close them soon. Also, he’d definitely lose his voice from screaming into his mic so much at the arrogant teenage brat who keeps mocking him. If only this damn kid appeared two days ago. His gameplay sucks because his focus is somewhere else – on someone else. Yesterday’s events had punctured both his mind and balls and he was completely spent. Yet you still continued to linger in his mind, like you had your hand wrapped around his brain.

It was destiny, Jungkook believes. It was a sign; the stars are telling him to make his move. Finally, after three years all he needed was some form of answer to his craving for you and he knows he’s received it as of yesterday. He was planning on talking to you by the end of the week, maybe asking you out to coffee like normal people do. There was always that fear of you saying no, but not after last night. Jungkook acknowledges he’s handsome, knows how people view him both in the office and out on the streets. Unlike some of the virgins on his server, he’s had his fair share of pussy before.

There were tons of different types he encountered. A few girls that were looking for a handsome fling. Others wanting arm candy. The most annoying girls repeatedly tried to find a way to get beneath the sexual layer – thinking themselves to be saviors or that he’s some poor lost ‘badboy’ who needs saving – clinging onto him with their delusional fantasies. They were always the hardest to shake off. His favorite type were the girls who understood that they have no meaning to him, they just wanted to get spit on and choked during intercourse. This was all way before he met you, of course. Before he pledged his faithfulness to his and your relationship. Nevertheless, he does know how to get into a woman’s pants.

He wants more with you, however. He wants to hold your hand whenever he feels like it and laugh with you at the cheesy dramas you watch and come home to you when the dark thoughts in his head overwhelm him and his loneliness eats away his soul. Jungkook’s never understood what love is or why people put themselves through pain for something as silly as that, at least not until he met you. What he feels for you, its love isn’t it? It consumes him entirely and he numbs the ache of not having you by watching over you compulsively. By memorizing your habits, by making you as alone as he is. Funny…he thinks he’s become like those girls he hated. A more excessive version, perhaps.

Jungkook growls as he dies yet again and closes off his sever. Today was just not his day. He discards his headset and grabs his unfinished ramen cup, practically shoving the last of its contents into his mouth in one large take. Throwing it to the side, he grabs his energy drink and downs it in one go while he’s still chewing to help swallow without difficulty. Stretching his shoulders, he huffs, looking at the time on his screen. You were probably making dinner right now. Maybe watching a horror movie or finishing your novel. What if you were in that mood tonight, the one that made you rip off all your clothes and seize whatever sex toy you touched first in your drawer. He loved your dildos the most, he was always amazed at how they stretched out your cunt so nice and tight. Exactly like he wants to. Sometimes he’d break into your house just to lick them clean.

Shuddering from his thoughts, he opens his folder where he stores the camera records. His favorite part of watching you was the anticipation. He clicks the kitchen cam to find it empty. Okay, so you weren’t cooking. He goes on to click the living room cam. Also empty. In excitement, he clicks the bedroom cam…to find it blank? The screen was black, and it darkened his entire room. There was no sound or even static from the tape. Great…it’s probably broken.

He sighs, staring at the monitor in scrutiny. There were other times when his spycam’s malfunctioned or broke down over the past three years and it was always such a hassle. Barely managing to excuse himself from work to sneak into your house when you’re not around, finding the spycam (and maybe taking a trinket of yours), getting back home to diagnose it. And either spending hours fixing it or spending money replacing it. Then sneaking back in and placing it back up. Always took a lot of work and interesting fact he discovered – acting like a thief was sort of dangerous! Who would’ve thought? His ‘all black ensemble all the time’ hadn’t helped either. Your neighbor almost caught him last time.

Today was really not his day, but the important thing was to see what you were doing. He glances at his camera on the side of the desk. Would you have your window open tonight? Well…there was only one way to know for sure. He gets up from his chair, pausing a bit as his vision blacks out for a moment. When it returns, he grabs his camera and stuffs it in his satchel. Then he slips out of his sweats to pull up his jeans and has to sit on the bed to wear his heavy easy climb shoes. Once he picks up his keys, he’s out the door into the cool summer night.

The bike to your place was easy, the wind blew through his hair like a lullaby. His hair was getting quite long, most of it reaching halfway to his ears. He was going to cut it, but he saw you eyeing him last week. There was no way he was letting scissors come near him now, not with the way your gaze glossed over his strands.

He finally reaches the usual alleyway and locks his bike by a drain pipe, making sure to secure it tightly. The reason why he parked it here was so no one takes note of the large blue P5X in the middle of the backroad behind your house as it was too heavy to carry over your fence. Besides, he’d trust the abandoned alleyway any day over the quite suburban neighborhoods. If movies have taught him anything, it’s that the nice-looking places are always the deadliest. That’s another reason he’s installed cameras around your house; for your own safety.

Jungkook spots your place after a short walk, turning his slow steps into a quick jog. As he comes near, he notices the light of your bedroom window beaming into the road, and he quietly cheers. Your window was open – he finally gets to see your pretty face. When he was in front of your house, he hops the familiar fence into your slightly unkept backyard. Once he moves in with you, the first thing he’s going to do is mow the fucking lawn. He walks up to the willow tree standing sturdy by your window, waiting on him to climb on. He loved this fucking tree, it was truly a pure and majestic plant.

As usual, he grabs onto a firm piece of bark and he uses his shoe to push himself up. He repeats this process until he’s safely tucked into the branches of the large tree. As usual, the leaves were blocking his way, and also protecting him from getting caught. Using the leaves as a cover, he gets himself ready by pulling out his camera and perching himself on his stomach. And as usual he moved towards the light behind the leaves.

As usual. Everything was supposed to be as fucking usual. But today was not his fucking day, was it?

When he finally gets a view behind the leaves using the lens of his camera, he almost drops out the tree all together. He let’s out a loud involuntary gasp. His throat constricts and his eyes widen at the sight he’s met with.

He first saw your eyes, your beautiful shapely eyes clenched together in ecstasy. Then he saw your arms. Your healthy, silky arms grasping onto someone’s broad back. And then your legs. Your sexy, glowing skin folded on someone’s hips. Hips that should’ve been his. He moves his camera out of his sight, taking your position in with his own two eyes. There you were, with your jaw hanging open and your body blocked out by someone else’s, a body you were urgently clinging onto. From then on started the moans. He hadn’t registered them before until just now, his brain connecting the movement of your mouth to the soft moans just now reaching his ears. A shaky breath leaves him.

“Uhh – ahh-” You were getting fucked, up against your wall.

“There,” You were mewling for the man pounding your smaller frame

“Faster!” A sob leaves his throat, his pants tightening at the scene. No, he didn’t want to get hard at this, not when his heart was shattering into a million pieces. But his body refused to listen to him as his dick started leaking precum

There was slight sweat on your forehead, your eyebrows were furrowed, and your now open eyes were glazed with desire. The muscles of the stranger tense as he holds you, hard ridges producing beads of perspiration – both yours and his – leaving no distance between your entangled limbs. He doesn’t know what to feel, just that his body hurts a lot all of a sudden. He accidently presses the camera shutter, not noticing it taking one pick after the other of the dreadful scene in front of him. Suddenly you make eye contact with him and his whole figure freezes.

You were looking. Fuck. You were staring straight at him, he knows you could tell he was here. He should get the fuck out of here – leave this place immediately but he’s frozen. The pounding of his heart intensifies when you smile.

You were…smiling? You were staring straight at him and…smiling? What the fuck was going on? A chill ran down his spine.

While making direct eye contact with him, you smirk, bringing your hand up to grab your boss’ locks. “Right there, baby,” You groan, throwing your head back but still staring out that window. “Ahh-You do it so well, better than mm- anyone.”

Jungkook was crying. He felt the tears leaves his sockets one by one. It was those days again – the ones three years ago. When you would break his heart daily by casually dating or flirting. When he had to put together that revolting tape of you and your now ex. Nausea crept his insides, his arms felt limp. Only the shadows know how he survived that time period. And it was supposed to be gone, that retched habit of yours. You were only his now. Yet here you were, with that evil glint in your menacing stare, mocking him with every breath that left your lungs.

When the bastard moves his head to the side to nose your neck, is when Jungkook catches a glimpse of the man who tore you away from him. It was him…your boss. Jungkook’s breathing becomes heavy.

You were doing this on purpose. You were torturing Jungkook on purpose. But WHY?! Why would you do that to him? Are you punishing him? It’s not something he knows for certain, but he does know this man had corrupted you. He took you away from Jungkook. He made you become this cruel. And Jungkook doesn’t share what’s his, ever.

It was that sudden thought just then, that blackened his pupils and clenched his teeth. The tears became hot, leaving a fire in their trail and burning the skin of his cheek. He no longer cried out of utter devastation, but a new emotion fueled him – bought back the energy that drives him to pursue you. Anger. Red, hot, scorching anger.

“I’m gonna cum”

He can no longer digest the scene. His stomach churned at the sight and he forced himself away, jumping out of the tree and falling feet-first into the lawn. As he straightened up, the ache got worse, his head felt like it would explode any second. So, he leaned on the bark, trying to keep cool. It didn’t work though as his mouth dropped open and he threw up all over the roots of the plant. His throat constricted and he struggled to breathe, eyes wide at the misery at hand. When he was done vomiting his guts, he took a step back and observed the sight in coughs he tried to keep silent. Pieces of food had mushed together and dyed into a green unidentifiable gunk by his energy drink, drenching the roots and grass surronding of the tree. He felt so sick, eyes hazy and the gross stench filling his nostrils. As soon as his conscious cleared a bit, he ran away from the scene of the crime.

Jungkook ran from the tree. From your yard. From the long backroad. All the way back to that silent alley way, not once looking back.

He was out of breath once he found his bike. Too exhausted to drive for now, he rested his arms on the wall. That’s when he noticed some of the contents from his earlier actions got on his pants and he wiped away at them furiously, grunting loudly. His grunts soon became whimpers and his eyes blurred once again as he let out a loud wail. Why would you do this to him? Why? He did everything for you, just to be with you…so WHY?

His body is shaking as he hangs onto the wall, trying to wipe tonight from his mind. The longer he thinks about, the crazier he becomes. Images continue to plague his mind and he shouts curses into the wall as his crotch continues to ache.

Why was he hard at a time like this? What the actual fuck was wrong with him?

No longer having the energy to care, with one last curse he unbuckles his jeans and pulls out his raging dick. Immediately he starts stroking his shaft strong and fast, and he uses the last of his adrenaline to fuel his pace.

He can see it still, your naked form. The gorgeous expanse of your skin and your legs spread apart. Except this time, you’re bent over your bed with your ass on display for him. Only for him. Your hands are tied behind your back but you’re not struggling. Yet.

Grunting, he jerks himself off as he imagines raising his hand up – then landing it straight on your soft ass cheek. You cry out as you shift away from him only to have him hold you down with his other arm. The skin around your butt becomes a rosy color, his hand print appearing in the aftermath. Immediately his pupils blow out, breath coming in hefty takes as he one again raises his hand towards your other cheek.

“How *smack* dare *smack * you *smack*” He grits out the last word so hard that he accidently bites his tongue. The taste of iron swirled in his mouth. Your cries were muffled against the bed your face was stuffed in and it makes his heart ache. This isn’t what he wanted, he only wanted to make sweet love to you. Give you everything you asked for. But he was weak and inept…underprivileged and a good-for-nothing. His insecurities held him back for three fucking years, but he was trying. Groveling away in the only company that would hire him. Letting himself be belittled, ridiculed, endlessly worked…all for you. He was trying really hard. Hiccupping as tears fall down his face, he rubs against your bottom to sooth you, not taking his eyes off of your cunt.

In exchange, that man embodied everything he wasn’t. Money. Status. Power. He could provide for you – he could give you anything you wanted and maybe that’s why he got to touch you. Jungkook recoils, recollecting what a dumbass horndog he became just because his fingers brushed yours. How sad was it that after all his efforts, Jungkook was stuck behind his dirty 4 walls masturbating to thoughts of you every night while this man got to live his dream without even half the work? What had he done to deserve you?

Not good enough. Not good enough. You’re not good enough.

“W-Why…did you do that t-to *hiccup* me”

“Why, when I love you so much?” When he recalls what you did, all the anger comes back. Red paints his vision as he once again spanks you like crazy, not caring about your screams this time. With how you angled your ass, you were practically urging him to continue. Heat radiates from you and his palm, his mind traveling a mile a minute. He brings his thigh up to your core, enjoying the way you instantly soak through his jeans while whining at the stimulation. Not just your suffering but even your face wasn’t correctly recreating in his perception, because to him this wasn’t about you. It was about your lack of fucking respect for him. Right now, only his pleasure mattered to his brain.

Pausing his merciless attack, he enjoys the view of your dripping cunt. Once again mindlessly rubbing at your bottom. Grabbing your sore ass cheek with one hand, he positions his dick at your entrance with his other. He groans as he sinks into you, stretching your insides apart. Fuck, if it felt this good in his own mind then he can’t even fathom how it would feel in reality. As he settles all the way inside, he doesn’t wait for you to relax around him. No, he wouldn’t wait for you.

Instead he pulls out and slams against you balls deep with one swift thrust. His moans sound out in sync with your cries – pleading for his forgiveness.

Before he could help it, he cums right then – abruptly, unfinished and the fury still alive in his bones. Inhumane growls come from him as he’s faced with the red brick wall that he coats with hot white strings of his semen. Bumping his forehead onto that wall, he slows his breathing, watching as the white streaks drip down the uneven ridges of the bricks. Reality kicks in. This is how it would be every time, wouldn’t it? He wouldn’t get to be inside you, he wouldn’t get to taste you, and he would spend away his days ejaculating prematurely like a fucking child.

Unless he did something about this.

Something he hasn’t done in a while.

As the young man continues to stand alone in that alleyway, an idea forms in his head. Since you were staring at him in such a sinister way – no surprise or fright in your face – you know exactly what he was doing and probably who he was. For the first moment that night, he flashes his pearly whites. Looks like it was finally time for you both to officially meet.

The man paced as fast as his heavy legs could take him, trying his best to seem confident and not an object of suspicion. Sweat was building in his temple and he could feel it. In that moment, all of his senses were at their peak and he’d probably be able to feel the flutter of a fly’s wings or a mole beneath his feet. As he wasn’t the most athletic, he was already out of breath from the steps he had taken, but he clamped his mouth shut. His eyes wandered around everywhere, staying no place more than a few seconds.

When he opens the doors of the building, he’s greeted with another presence.

“Good evening Mr. Jang.” A young janitor, probably his son’s age tells him. It has an unsettling effect on him – one where his eyes widen, and eyebrows raise. He responds with a forced smile, teeth clamoring faintly, as he continues to walk on by.

“Yes, good evening.” The worker’s pupils follow the blue suited man all the way to the elevator, where they are involuntary required to make eye contact again as he waits for his lift to arrive. Another forced smile from his side.

The elevator doors open quickly to Jang’s relief, and he gets inside. He hits the top floor immediately and looks towards his shoes. For a few seconds he just blinks, trying to see if this was some hellish nightmare he was stuck inside. If he could somehow wake up to a better reality. With her lying next to him.

The lift reaches the top floor and lets him out, he quietly walks into the windy night enclosed by the vacant terrace. There he pauses, running a palm on his bare head a few times to ease his discomfort. She did that for him too, it always calmed him down.

His phone rings. Again.

“Y…Hello…yes I’m at the rooftop. Yes, I’m alone.”

The aging man shifts on his legs as the distorted voice replies to him. It was that contrast of the unusually deep baritone in one ear and noiseless summer night in his other that ran a chill up his spine.

“I’ll do it…but please can I ask wh- no! NO! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again. I’ll do what you asked!”

“Just please,” He begs, bringing his hands up in the darkness to his head, “Don’t send those photographs to my wife…”

He sniffles bitter and exhausted, as the call ends and he’s once again completely alone. Eyeing his phone, he stands there for a bit just exhaling through his nose. The calm before the storm let’s say. Never in his life has he considered himself a kind man, he always took what he wanted from who he wanted as much as life allowed him to. His wife was just some rich whore he managed to impregnate in the 80’s, he didn’t mean to make a life with her. He also didn’t mean to just watch as life left her. But he can’t change what happened; he can’t change that they have a son who rarely speaks to them, he can’t change that he found another woman – much younger, much tighter. And he can’t change taking a generous life insurance policy out on her ill body. Divorce isn’t something he could afford, not when he’s this close.

Instead was he a murderer? No, he couldn’t cause someone’s death even if he was hoping for another’s. So that has to account for something, right? It was the least he earned to be able to love himself…didn’t he? With a deep sigh and a muffled sob, he clicks on his boss’s name and waits as his phone starts ringing, holding it next to his ear.

“Hello?”

He did it…he called him. Now he should start talking but no – the words won’t come out. Should he tell him the truth? Should he stick to the script? All he could do was stand there with his mouth catching flies as the other line repeats his greetings.

“Hello? Jang, what the fuck? I know it’s you. What the fuck do you want at this time of night?”

Compared to the other call, this man’s voice was louder, and he hated it twice as much. Perhaps this was destiny, a twisted fate of all the choices he’s made in the past couple of years. Kim had always been a brat, the reason Jang dreaded going into the office he should’ve originally been in charge of. The brat didn’t have half the qualifications he did, nor did he have half the rights to speak to him in such a belittling manner. Nonetheless, luck only delivers to the wealthy or sons of the arrogantly blessed. Seniority holds no place in competition to those privileged enough to win. Perhaps this was karma, another card of destiny – taking back what was unfairly given.

He failed to register the threat looming right behind him, caught up in his pleasing daydream of a payback. His own karma watching him with hawk eyes.

If this is destiny…then he doesn’t have to feel bad about this, does he? It was always meant to happen, and he was just doing what the cards told him. He was just a messenger delivering a message.

And so, with a large gulp, deliver he did.

Kim parked his Benz at the back. He parked near the trees, their cover setting an ease inside his otherwise chaotic mind. The last thing he expected tonight was a call from that musty old man. Fucking Jang, he wonders why he hasn’t fired him yet. It was you who did most of his work anyway, while he was out fucking some chick from their red-light district bar. If only that bastard wasn’t also involved in his side business.

Getting out of his car, he takes fast strides to the structure in front of him. All of this was getting out of hand.

“There’s a mole…We should meet”

Kim wasn’t gonna lie, he was shitting himself the whole ride to the warehouse. Contrary to what people think, Kim considered himself a sharp man. He knew that none of his crap was really his, that his alcoholic father could take everything away in a matter of moments if he pissed him off enough. That man spent his youthful years beating the ‘sissy’ out of him and now uses his older age to sass the failing status of his business. It was such a curse representing that man’s last name. Such a tragedy that he was born into the mud pile he called a family. Maybe that’s why he took refuge behind illegal activities, turned his once average company to an underground drug laundering agency. That way he could earn his own money, untainted by his elegant family’s legacy. He craved that independence.

Everything was better than it seemed anyway. They weren’t distributors nor were they providers, they were just middle men. People who safely hid the drugs given to them by providers and taken away from them by distributors. Meaning he’d get the same amount of punishment despite having the least amount of profits. Apparently, young rich boys mean nothing to mafia heads or underground gangsters. Nothing more than disposable aid like he considered others. Tsk. Fuck all this shit.

What he needed to do was find this ‘mole’ Jang mentioned and eliminate him fast. There wasn’t any blood on his hands minus multiple teenaged addict’s untimely death, but he didn’t consider that his fault. However, this time he’d make sure to kill this son of a bitch – whoever he was – himself. The thought of finally having power over some plebian pleading soul right before he rips the life from their eyes gave him an adrenaline rush. Finally, he wouldn’t just be a monster because of who his father was, but because he could get shit done.

He grunts when he makes it to the warehouse doors, opening them with more force than he meant to. Once he steps inside, he notices that It’s too dark to see.

“Jang? Where the fuck are you?” Kim shouts into the shadows

…

Nothing but silence in return. He feels uneasy…like there was something terribly wrong with this place.

“Fuck,” He mutters, pulling out his phone to call the old man. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes roamed about. The alcohol in his system heightened his nervousness, made everything sort of unfocused even in the dark. With one call, he charged into battle without thinking, eager to blow someone’s head off tonight”

Ring Ring

Everything went in slow motion as he spotted a light coming from a few feet away. It looked like a phone. Kim gulped before he walked towards it. Praying that it wasn’t what he was thinking.

As he came by it, he began to tremble. His name was displayed on the small screen. It was cracked from an end and…there was something red on the front edge. What the fuck.

Snap

In an instant he turns around, the ringing still haunting his ear. He definitely heard something…or someone?

“W-who’s there?!” He tries to shout but his voice fails him as he squeaks. The realization that he’s not alone frightens him. All the vigor from before leaves his build and he becomes a small boy once again. The shadows symbolizing his father, the small noises sounding like the leather belt that bruised him continuously.

“W-what do you want?”

“Weak,” he hears his father’s voice sneering, “You gonna grovel like a f*g? You sissy.”

Anger swells inside his chest, his teeth clenching in pure hate. “I won’t grovel you motherfucker, come out this instant!” He roars before taking out his gun and shooting a few rounds at random. Still, no reply. Kim heaves in the darkness for a few seconds, placing his gun in multiple directions, trying to make out the cunt playing with him.

That when he notices Jang’s phone. It’s gone. Did someone take it? When? As he’s busy staring at the ground where it once laid, he doesn’t hear the steps of the shoes behind him.

*Crack*

He falls to the floor with a thud as something heavy hits the back of his head. The gun slips away from reach, further into the darkness. Screaming he clutches the gushing wound on his head, blood immediately making its way from the blow in his cranium. He tries to push himself up with one arm, falling back down miserably. That attempt lands him a hit on the back of his thigh as he wails. His vision blurs and he wheezes in pain, completely immobile in a growing pool of his own blood.

His father laughs at him, the leather belt in his hand crackling with pride. Turning himself around, he brings a weak arm up, pleading with the silhouette of what he thinks is a man. “P-please, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

The man scoffs, reaching behind him to pull out a tiny object. He flicks it a few times to reveal a lighter. As the fire brightens everything around him, he notices a bat in the man’s other arm. A very bloody bat. Slowly, he brings the lighter up to his face and Kim’s eyes go wide with the last bit of his strength.

“Y-you’re that i-intern-

“Name’s Jungkook.” The man interjected before bringing the bat up and smashing it into his face.

In a moment, the last thing Kim saw were spotted stars in his eyes before he felt the awful pop of his nose breaking and eventually lost conscious.

You were painting your nails. Scratch that, you were attempting to paint your nails. Bending your body in half and sticking out your tongue in concentration, you groan when that bombs, and you make yet another mistake. This shit was impossible.

After a long week of complete exhaustion, you were happy to be home on your couch with a pizza box on your left and a glass of wine on your right. Sitting there and swirling the brush inside your nail polish container you hummed along to the tune of the newest pop song stuck in your head. It was a nice night, compared to the heat wave your city had been experiencing for the past month. So, you decided to leave the windows open and let some breeze in. Soon you were thinking about watching a thriller on Netflix.

You sighed, this is always how your days passed no matter what type of weather was out there. Alone – in your way too large to live alone in house. Since your bitch of a best friend left you, she decided to take all your other friends with her. Online harassment from her minions got so bad you had to delete all your social medias. Family was no good either. Your parents were the most annoying creatures on the planet, refusing to let you in that one time you flew home to see them for the holidays. Whatever, it didn’t matter – you fucking hated everyone anyway. Fuck Melissa, fuck Dad, fuck David, fuck Uncle Ben.

There were sometimes though, where you would make a stupid penis joke towards an actor on screen and wished Melissa was around to laugh in that obnoxious way she often would. Or that your Dad would still call you for his check ins with one of his million pet names. You wished David was still around to see if your company really made you supervisor, he owed you like $40 bucks from the bed. And other times you wished Uncle Ben still brought you those expensive gifts from his crazy trips.

But whatever…like you said. Fuck everyone.

You’re startled when the doorbell chimes, almost bumping your acetone all over the place. In confusion you look over to your clock hanging above the dining room wall. It was almost midnight. Who could it be at this hour?

You jump again when the doorbell rings for a second time. Whoever it was sure was impatient. Moving your pedicure items to the side, you stand up in annoyance, making your way over to the door. Quietly you peek into the peephole, hoping to see a familiar face. Oddly, no one seems to be outside. Yet the bell chimes again.

With great hesitance you pull the door open, only slightly.

The sight you’re met with leaves your jaw hanging open. On the other side of the door – right in front of you, stood Jeon Jungkook. Not a trace of emotion on his face as he glared at you and pushed the door open the rest of the way. You back up slightly. He was holding a bat covered in blood and dirt, red and black stains surrounded the smooth skin of his face. The stench of iron and gasoline makes you scrunch your nose, and you put a palm over it in disgust.

Jungkook stands there, staring at you. You wore a white silk kimono, one side of it delicately hanging on your arm and exposing your bare shoulder. Smitten by just the sight of you, he breaths in your strawberry musk – mixed with acetone for some reason. When he steps inside you let out a tiny gasp. Raising an eyebrow, he continues to watch you. He prepared a whole speech about how you’re his and he was here to punish you accordingly tonight but as soon as your glassy orbs met his, he lost all train of thought. Funny, he was tearing limbs and breaking bones a couple of minutes ago and now he feels like he can’t even advance his hand to touch you.

When you continue to look at him with such distaste, he expected you to scream, to cry, to run. He was expecting you to act like his prey usually does.

He was not expecting you to smile.

“What did you do?” You ask him in the biggest smile he’s ever seen you in.

It feels like the breath has been knocked out of him. You step closer to him, tilting your head to hear his answer but he’s struggling to form words. Fluttering your lashes, you patiently wait for him to talk.

“I…I-I killed him.”

“Killed who?” You ask without missing a beat. It seems like you’ve realized though as your mouth forms an O and you let out a laugh, “Wait, Mr. Kim? You really killed Kim?”

Jungkook nods as his heart starts beating faster. He’s not used to you being so close and acknowledging him. “And Jang”

“Whoooaaa, and Jang?” You jump up in enthusiasm, surprising poor Jungkook.

“Y-you don’t care?” He asks in a tiny voice

You give him a weird face, “Care? Why would I?”

When he gives you the most clueless face in return, you sigh – crossing your arms. He sure was naïve.

“I found your camera,” You begin, looking up to witness his shocked reaction. He looks like he wanted to say something, but you hold up a finger to stop him, “Well, actually I found all your cameras. The first one being the one with all those creepy pictures of me.”

“At first, I was shocked, and a little upset. Then I became scared. And then I realized…that I was actually scared” You stare at him with wide, insane eyes and he wonders why he’s never witnessed this side of you. It was kinda turning him on. “I was scared…holy shit I was scared of you and it was the best thing ever. Then I wondered if you had any other cameras…and I was right.”

Lifting your head to the left corner of the living room, you point at the spot. “I found the first one there, and the second one in the kitchen and then in the bathroom and so on.” Suddenly your face becomes solemn and you give him a scowl that makes him deflate like a small animal.

“Then I thought…Wow! so much interesting shit is happening in my life – in my own home and I had no fucking idea? Why? Because my stalker happened to be a bitchass coward who couldn’t make a move?”

He winces when you berate him, his head dropping and tears forming in his eyes. There was so much he wanted to tell you, but a headache was forming in his brain from all the gasoline he had inhaled. You place your hand under his jaw, gently bringing his face up to yours again, “That’s why I decided to lure you out myself. I took off the spycam in my room and decided to fuck my boss, hoping you’d come see and do something. Knew you would perch on my willow tree seeing how the photos in your camera were angled…Which by the way is a fucking mess! Clean up the nasty chaos you made on my precious tree tonight!”

Jungkook nods firmly, still processing what you said.

“S-so wait…wait then Kim was jus-”

“Yeah, Kim was just a pawn. He’s practically been begging to fuck me for years anyway, and I was gonna do it for that promotion he offered me. But this is better. Also, Jang touched my ass way too much on ‘accident.’ I didn’t want them to die, but I don’t exactly care either.”

Jungkook smiles shyly. The fact that used Kim to get to him. You didn’t care about Kim’s money or his power. He got insecure for no reason. And you had just asked him to stay by telling him to clean up his mess! If he’s right in guessing your intentions, then he feels that he’s going to burst out crying. Although he’ll still punish you for fucking him. That agony he felt was still deep inside his gut and he hadn’t been able to cum for two days, plotting this elaborate scheme of murder. With everything you were telling him, he didn’t think you’d mind much.

You’ve accepted him, after all. He’s enough for you.

You’re enough.

“Tell me what you did to them.”

“I beat them to a bloody pulp.” Jungkook says monotonously. It’s the first sentence he states without stuttering. “Attacked them both from behind with a single blow and cracked their skulls. Continued to beat the shit out of them then dropped Jang’s body to an alleyway. Broke both of his arms. Dragged him to an empty warehouse known for drug transactions where I fucked up Kim. Smashed his face in, his eyeball was hanging out by the end of it…it wasn’t very attractive. Then I threw gasoline all over the place and burned it to a crisp. Firefighters and Media’s probably there by now”

“Holy shit…that’s…fucking crazy,” You eye the bat. “What if you get caught”

“I won’t…they’ll say it was a rival drug gang. Left a few traces of underground trash” He answers as you lift your brows. There was a lot you didn’t know about him, especially the three years prior to him getting that job in your office. You wouldn’t know of the life he had before he laid his eyes on you, the co-worker with the beautiful smile showing him around his new workplace. He wasn’t interested in returning to a time before you became his purpose for existing, but he was smarter than he looks.

There was a lot he understood.

Jungkook frowns at the floor before making eye contact with you, “Do you…hate me?”

“…Your weird ass excites me Jungkook. I think I fucking love you.” Meh, honestly you weren’t really in love with him. But it wouldn’t hurt to say it cause you knew as long as Jungkook stayed this psychotic, he’s the only man you would come close to loving. You hadn’t ever been in love before, but you were willing to ty it out.

At your confession Jungkook shows you his bunny teeth and his eyes crinkle. It meant so much to him, you wouldn’t even be able to comprehend. These three years have gone very differently for both of you, after all. While you were out there losing people from your life and wasting your existence away, Jungkook was falling in love with you deeper and deeper each moment he spent watching you. To the point of complete, irreversible fixation. A loud bell rings inside his head and he chokes up.

“I love you, too.”

You grab his cheeks, lurching forward to kiss him and it only takes a second for him to reciprocate.

It was a sloppy, hungry kiss. Your tongues swirls around his and your teeth bump into each other. You lick the sides of his mouth, tasting someone else’s blood and the residue of fire. It makes you moan into him. With that the beast awakens, dropping the damn bat out of his hands and grabbing your ass instead, pulling you close to him. His wet muscle dominates yours easily, your legs giving out slightly and he rushes to hold you up by your thighs. Ever slip of his tongue has you clenching your core in excitement. Lewd noises fill your doorway as you hang onto his sturdy frame and he pushes harder and harder against you. He bites your lip and you whine, feeling him smile into your mouth. When you felt like you could no longer breathe, you pull back to stare at his blown-out pupils with lust fogging your mind.

Out of breath, he whimpers as you rub against his hard on. He was sexy as fuck with his lips swollen and glossy with your spit, pupils dilated, his jaw ajar and lurid sighs leaving him. Jungkook held onto you for dear life while waiting for your next move, you felt his thick fingers digging into your thighs. You smile at him with heavy lids, running a hand through his wild strands. Cautiously, he places his face into your exposed shoulder and inhales your scent. Shivering at the sensation, you groan as he starts biting at your neck aggressively, as if trying to make a statement. You coo at him, trying to calm him down by patting his head, and you wonder if it worked once he slows down and you feel tears amongst your bitten hickeys.

That’s what excited you the most about Jungkook. There was no certainty about him, you couldn’t predict him at all. Some part of you thought he would come to kill you instead of Kim or Jang and the rush you felt seeing him in your entrance drenched in blood almost gave you a standing orgasm. Right now, you have no fucking idea why he’s sobbing into your shoulder while dry humping you with such eagerness…was he happy? Was he mad? Was he sad? You couldn’t tell that Jungkook was absolutely enthralled to finally have you in his arms – touch you all he wanted – and he did have a very rough and bloody week. He was emotionally drained. What you did know, however, was that you haven’t felt this much thrill for a long, long time. And the root cause of it was this man baby in your arms, covering you with gore and ash.

What a weird guy.

You weren’t sure where this was headed, all you knew was that Jungkook would be pounding inside of you on your bed in a couple of moments. Without changing of course because the guts spilled across his shirt was making you drip down your thighs. Wrapping your arms against the crying bunny rabbit, you speculated if there was another extravagant plot you could cook up to get him to kill someone – this time right in front of you. After all, it was as if you were Frankenstein and he was your monster with rabbit features and brawny arms. The thought makes you chuckle before you notice how he’s began hiccuping and repeating his love for you on your skin. Sighing, you whisper in his ear to simmer down. It was getting difficult to breath with how he was smothering you. Oh well.

Looks like your night just got interesting.

#Jeon Jungkook #Bts #Jungkook smut #Jungkook angst #Yandere Jungkook #Bts smut #Bts angst #Yandere bts #R:BC

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msstarkerwhore · 5 years ago

Note

Cheating/affair request Tony is unhappily married to pepper, one day pepper's little (slutty) little brother came to stay for a while. Tony cheats on pepper with peter.

Oof! How dare you give me such a good prompt nonnie 😂 - I pictured tony as 40-45 and Peter as around 18, but its never specified :) Also I decided on a no powers universe - there’s still Stark Industries and Stark tower, but no IronMan or Spiderman

Word Count: 1600 - do I want to write more? YES! Did I have to restrain myself, and even then go a little overboard anyway? YES

Hope you enjoy :)

Tony knew Pepper had a younger half brother, one that she only knew because of obligatory shared Christmases and family events, ones that she hadn’t been to in a few years. However, when she said that her father reached out and asked to let Peter stay with them for a few months while he went through *another* divorce, Pepper said yes. She had gone through that once before with the same father and felt bad for the kid. She didn’t say much to Tony about it, which caused another problem with their relationship, but he got over it when the boy walked into the penthouse. Tony has to do a double-take from where he’s sitting on the couch, because this kid looks like someone he would have hired for the night back when he was a playboy. Back before Pepper. The boy meets his eyes, and Tony rushes to stand and greet him.

“You must be Peter,” he says smoothly, despite losing his breath just from looking at the boy. He holds his hand out for the boy to shake.

“Yes, Sir. It's a pleasure to be here. Thanks for letting me stay for a while!” He says, and he’s so sweet, but when he’s dressed in tiny little shorts and a crop top, it gives Tony thoughts he should not have.

“No worries, the more the merrier right?” Peter gives him a shy smile at that. “Pepper is finishing up some work in the office,” the like usual is unsaid, but still leaves a bad taste in Tony’s mouth. “It's getting late, did you want something in particular for dinner?”

“I don't mind, sir!”

“Call me Tony, please,” he rolls his eyes slightly, and reaches to grab one of Peter’s duffle bags, “Follow me, you can get settled into your room before dinner, clean up if you want to.” Tony wants to watch the boy clean up. Which, where did that thought come from? This boy shares DNA with his wife.

“Thanks, Tony,” and the boy follows him into the spare room, which before Peter arrived, was the room Tony was staying in to avoid Pepper. Tony wants to stay in this room even more now that there’s a pretty boy in it.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. If you have any questions, I’ll be in the lounge.”

Peter blushes again, and Tony leaves, breathing heavily outside of his closed door. Too inappropriate. No matter how unhappy Tony is, he is not going to cheat on Pepper with her little brother. Half-brother, his mind supplies happily. No, he won’t do it.

When Peter comes out from having a shower, Tony can't believe his eyes. He’s wearing an oversized shirt and the tiniest little shorts he can see when Peter leans up to stretch.

“Feel better? Pepper called and said she’s going to be a bit late, so it's just us for dinner tonight, sorry,” he says, but he isn’t really. Any time he gets to spend with this angel instead of his wife is way better.

“Oh, that’s okay!” They decide on Chinese, and after watching a movie (star wars - apparently the kid is a huge nerd which turns Tony on so much Tony finds really interesting), they sit on the couch and keep getting to know each other. He finds out that the boy wants to study at NYU so he’s thinking of visiting the campus, which Tony thinks is a great idea, and is already thinking of giving the boy a credit card so he can easily go anywhere in the city (and buy anything he wants with Tony’s money - he’s never wanted to be a sugar daddy, but he can see the appeal right now). They’re interrupted by the elevator opening, and Pepper walking out, typing quickly on her phone. Tony stands up and greets her, pretending to act happy. They decided that while the boy stays with them, it would be best to act civil and still together, just like they do for public appearances - he doesn’t need to stay with another couple in the midst of a divorce. He goes in for a kiss, and Pepper turns her head quickly to the side. Tony’s had enough awkward interactions to recover quickly and press a kiss to her cheek instead, unbeknownst to him that Peter is very smart indeed, and noticed the coldness straight away.

“How was work?” Tony asks. He tries to remember what he and Pepper talked about when they were still happy, and finds he can’t.

“Stressful, like normal,” he can almost hear the eye roll, and she pockets the phone, “Peter, how are you? I haven’t seen you in years. Look at you all grown up!” Peter rushes over to her and hugs her tightly, which Tony thinks is sweet. It reminds him of the dreams, of a child, of him and Pepper as parents. Maybe in another life, they would’ve had this. Except without all of Tony’s inappropriate feelings. He decides to go for a shower while Pepper catches up with Peter.

If he fists his cock and moans loudly while the water cascades around him and drowns out any noise, well no one has to know.

—

Tony really should have known that the teenage boy would stay up late. He can’t sleep, like normal - He can’t stand sharing a room with Pepper and acting like everything is fine, and was on his way to the lab. He has to walk past Peter’s room to get to the lounge and into the elevator, and hears talking coming from his room. Although New York is only a few hours behind, it makes sense for Peter to be calling someone who still lived in Los Angeles, and okay yeah, maybe he’s bad for eavesdropping but he can’t help it.

“No, I’m telling you Ned, they are not a couple!” He hears the pause, and assumes the person on the other end is replying - he can’t hear them through the door. “No! They definitely don’t like each other, feel kinda bad that they have to pretend that they like each other for me.” _ “Yes, I know.” _ “I know its good, maybe I can convince Tony to sleep with me.”

Peter starts to chuckle, but Tony isn’t laughing. In fact, he’s barely breathing. Oh god.

“I’ve been acting pretty sweet - need Pepper to trust me enough to leave me alone with Tony.” There's giggling again, like little schoolboys and fuck, he’s reminded of how young Peter is. “I don’t know if they’re newly broken up or not, but like, surely I can entice him to sleep with me with my ass right?” _ “You’re my best friend man, you’re meant to encourage me to go for my dreams!” _ “Excuse me, my dreams definitely include Tony’s cock,” more giggles but Tony thinks he’s going to pass out, “How big do you think he is? I know we’ve had this conversation before but it's different when you see him in real life. He was in sweatpants tonight, and I was trying to get a look, but I couldn’t really make it out,” he seems sad, and Tony wants to burst in there and shove his cock in the boy’s, shit he thought he was so innocent, he’s probably not even a virgin, face. But he steadies himself and continues on his way. He will definitely not be getting any sleep tonight.

—

Tony is woken up by something wet and hot engulfing his hard dick. Shit, feels so good. Except, him and Pepper haven’t done anything like this in a long time. Maybe she’s getting possessive, jealous because Peter’s here now and he’s so much prettier then… His dick pulses when he thinks of Peter, but his eyes shoot open anyway. Because he only went to bed when Pepper left for work, and there's only one way his dick is feeling this good. He flicks the covers up to see Peter, shit his eyes roll back, sucking his dick like a well-trained slut. “Fuck Pete” he groans.

Peter pulls off his cock and grabs it with both hands. “Mr Stark,” he croaks out, “Never knew you would be this big. Dreamed about it, but never thought…” he’s distracted by going down on him again, trying to suck him to the bottom.

“Shit!” Tony bucks up into his mouth, he can’t help it, and keeps fucking the kid's throat until he groans out “I’m gonna cum kid, fuck Pete Pete-“ and the kid sucks harder and Tony’s spilling down his throat. His eyes roll back into his head and his elbows give out so he collapses onto the bed and he hasn’t cum that hard in years, shit, and he just did it in Peppers little brother’s mouth. His brain tries to tell him ‘half-brother’ again, but his cock only twitches valiantly in Peter’s mouth, who smirks and pulls off with a pop.

He’s leaning his head of Tony’s thigh now, looking up at him with admiration. Tony meets his eyes, groans, and then reaches for under his armpits. “Come up here kid.” and manhandles him until Peter’s dick is in his throat and he’s sitting on Tony’s face and all he can smell is Peter. It doesn't take long for Peter to come, so easily like a fucking teenager, because he is one, and seems embarrassed when Tony pulls him off and lays him down next to him, but Tony just groans and licks into his mouth.

“Why’d you act so innocent yesterday when you’re really just a little slut? Huh? Seducing me in the bed I share with my wife, with your sister.”

The boy moans, eyes still half-closed, “I don’t know Mr Stark, had to see if you would want me.”

“God kid, I could barely resist last night.”

“Wish you didn’t. Cleaned up in the shower like you told me too, I had three fingers in there hoping you would take me. Wanted your cock for dinner last night instead.”

Tony groans, his cock half-hard again, and a quick glance down shows Peter fully hard.

“I’ll make it up to you, baby.” and then he rolls over onto him, sealing their mouths in a messy, filthy kiss.

#starker #peter/tony #starkerprompts

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svtxsoju · 5 years ago

Text

02. morning glory fizz | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is! ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Joshua x baking major!OC, and more TBA! ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, suggestions of sex, language ღ Word Count: 4.9k words ღ Binu’s Note: a week late but better late than never i guess 😌 i’ve been avoiding tumblr to finish writing this, but i just kept getting distracted by choi seungcheol. hit that mf like button if you relate. i’m so excited for the special album y’all the teasers and concepts are so sadkfklsj i love seventeen

anyway, i apologize not only for the late update, BUT ALSO bc this chapter is also a lot of exposition again 😔🥺 i promise i’m done setting it all up and that some real shit will go down in the next chapter!! hopefully people will still be able to enjoy this chapter huhuhu 😭💗 if you’re reading this, i love u and i hope u have a good weekend!!

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Disclaimer ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Having already completed the first half of her college career, Joohyun was well aware of the value of sleep. And yet, like most college students, she could never seem to manage a decent sleeping schedule. She had only slept 2 hours when her alarm went off at 5:30AM. She groggily rolled out of bed, mentally cursing her past self for thinking that this was a good idea when clearly, the best idea at the moment was to snuggle back up under her covers and sleep in until afternoon. Only one of her eyes seemed capable of staying open as she pulled on her clothes and got ready for the day. When she suddenly heard the front door close behind her roommate, she cursed out loud, throwing her laptop into her bag before she rushed out the door. She half-wobbled, half-hopped along the second-story walkway while she tried to get her shoes all the way on.

“Bok Bongseon! Wait for me!” Joohyun called out in an aggressive whisper.

“HOLY SHIT! You scared me, Joo!” her roommate, a shorter girl with full cheeks and pouty lips, screamed at full volume. She clutched at her racing heart and leaned against the wall while she caught her breath.

“Shut up, people are still sleeping!” Joohyun linked arms with Bongseon and dragged her down the steps leading to the street. It was still dark outside, but she could already hear the faint bustling of the mart located below their apartment. It was nice to know that they weren’t the only two people in Seoul insane enough to be awake at this hour.

“I thought you were the ghost of my grandma, you bitch! You know she visits me in my dreams to tell me how disappointed she that I’m a baker,” Bongseon said indignantly, though she still cuddled closer to Joohyun when they were hit by the morning chill. Once they reached the street, they both headed towards the train station without having to say a word. “What are you even doing up?”

“I am simply accompanying my favorite roommate to work to make sure that she gets there safely,” Joohyun crooned sweetly, and made kissy faces at the girl, who in turn pinched Joohyun’s lips between her calloused fingers. She tried to protest but could only let out pained whines until she was mercifully released. “Ow!”

“Sorry but I cannot fulfill your roommates to lovers, 12k slowburn fantasy,” Bongseon continued on nonchalantly as they climbed down the steps to the platform. “You had your chance, but I am a taken girl!”

“Oh, so you and Josh are together today?” Joohyun teased. Although it probably wasn’t the best idea, considering her lips were slightly throbbing from the girl’s attack. “I’ll just wait until tomorrow then.”

“Wow, bold words coming from Miss Fish Lips.” Bongseon raised an eyebrow and smiled tauntingly. “Understandable, considering that that was probably the most action your lips have gotten in your entire life. I could probably set it up on a blind date with my fist, if you’d like.”

Joohyun’s laughter echoed off the walls of the mostly empty station, startling the only other person waiting for the morning train (an old woman, who was still half-asleep prior to being rudely awakened by two very loud girls). Bongseon often made some colorful threats, morning or not, but Joohyun was one of the very few people who could be assured that her words were empty. “Don’t you know that it’s rude to stare, lady?” she barked at the old woman, who was openly glaring at them. Everyone else, on the other hand, was subject to Bongseon’s sharp temper.

This even included her boyfriend of approximately 4 years. ‘Approximately’ being the key word, because the two often took breaks-- a natural phenomenon when one partner was easily provoked and the other loved to do the provoking. Jihoon had told Joohyun that the two had met at the cafe in their freshman year, when Bongseon came in as a part-time baker and Joshua was merely a barista trainee. They started dating within a month and moved into an apartment together in two. That went just as well as anyone would expect. By the grace of whatever entity that was chaotic enough to keep their relationship intact, they made it 7 months before nearly breaking things off for good. As luck would have it though, a new hire and his roommate were in the same exact predicament as them. Kind of.

Joohyun shuddered to recall her freshman year when she and Jihoon somehow convinced themselves that it was a good idea to share an apartment. In principle it made sense; they had lived across the street from each other since they were in diapers. Two exhausting months into trying to irritate the other into breaking the lease first, they met Bongseon and Joshua when Jihoon started working at Smile Flower. It didn’t take long for Joohyun to suggest the switch— she would move in with Bongseon and Joshua with Woozi. Just like that, she saved both Bongseon and Joshua’s turbulent romance (temporarily) and her and Woozi’s fractured friendship (now thriving).

She and Bongseon have been roommates ever since, and Joohyun knew her life was a little easier for it.

“Joohyun, you better stop looking at me with those heart eyes before I really act up,” Bongseon warned. They had boarded the train, but hadn’t bothered to sit down since Mansae University station was only two stops away.

“But I just love you so much,” Joohyun pouted, affectionately resting her head on her friend’s shoulder. “What does Joshua have that I don’t?”

“A dick. And that’s about it.”

“Damn you, heterosexuality!”

Bongseon snorted out a laugh. “Seriously Joo, how are you awake right now? You’re only ever this lovey-dovey when you’re severely sleep deprived. I know you don’t have classes until 3PM today. You also don’t have your internship today,” Bongseon narrowed her eyes when Joohyun visibly tensed up at the mention of her current occupation. “Also, since when do you watch Youtube videos until 2am? And don’t think I didn’t notice that all of them were titled ‘Relationship Q&A’s’ and ‘I confessed to my crush and he said this!!!’. Got something to tell me, missy?”

It was so quiet on the train that Joohyun worried that Bongseon could hear all the wires in her brain short-circuit. With Bongseon’s cross-examination skills, it was a wonder why she pursued baking instead of joining her family’s firm. Come on, Joohyun, just tell a white lie. Easy, simple. Don’t need to overcomplicate things. “Oh, uh I— um— well, I j-just thought they were entertaining?” She was done for.

“Right. You thought random couples self-indulgently talking about their love lifes for 40 minutes with default iMovies effects were entertaining.”

“Y-yes?” Joohyun threw in her most convincing smile for good measure, but it did nothing to soften Bongseon’s hard gaze. “It’s my new guilty pleasure, haha!”

“Hm, interesting,” Bongseon was momentarily interrupted by the sound of the arrival bell. Joohyun eagerly pulled her friend towards the exit, hoping that the distance from the train could also get her further away from the topic. Unfortunately for her, Bongseon did not plan on dropping it so soon. “You sure you don’t want to tell me anything, Joo? About your internship?”

Joohyun began to sweat. Was she really that transparent? “Okay, don’t get mad--”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m super jazzed that you’re getting into relationships and everything, but really Joo? Youtube? You could just talk to me if you need help talking to your new crush at your job!”

“Oh.” Joohyun would have let out a sigh of relief if she wasn’t out of breath from climbing the mountain of stairs up to the sidewalk. “Right. Confessing. To my crush. That I definitely have.”

“It’s okay to admit you have one, Joo. I’m no stranger to workplace romance,” Bongseon said, her breathing completely even. A measly flight of stairs was nothing compared to eight hours of kneading dough. “Who’s the lucky bastard, Joo?”

“Well, I’m not sure I would call it a workplace romance, per se…” Joohyun laughed nervously. There was no way she could stick another clean landing if she kept talking.

“Shut up, I bet that guy is in love with you already. Who wouldn’t fall for the only editing intern at The Front?”

“Haha, I don’t know…” Probably no one, because the only editing intern at The Front doesn’t exist?

Joohyun could not be more relieved to see the small store front of Smile Flower Cafe. It was one amongst the many cafes located near campus, but Joohyun felt like nothing really matched its comforting home-like ambience. But that probably had less to do with the soft wooden floors and pastel ceramic mugs, and more owed to the three years Joohyun had spent hanging around there, usually bothering Jihoon and joking around with Josh.

The two boys already stood waiting at the cafe’s entrance, too bleary-eyed to notice Joohyun and Bongseon quickly approaching. “Hey, ugly!” Joohyun called out, snickering when both of them turned to look at her.

“What the hell, why are you awake?”

“Good morning to you too, Jihoon,” she answered, blowing him a kiss. “I’m actually here to see you, believe it or not. Don’t you feel special?”

“Oh? That’s interesting, because you told me that you came here for me,” Bongseon broke away from exchanging actual kisses with Joshua to look between Joohyun and Jihoon in a way that Joohyun did not like too much. “I guess it wasn’t a workplace romance after all.”

Joshua mirrored his girlfriend’s implicating expression as he unlocked the front door, simply because he knew it made his friends squirm. “Wow Joohyun, you woke up this early just to talk to Jihoon? You really couldn’t wait to see him, huh?”

“Uh, yes because I need his help—”

“Ah, his help, gotcha! Come on, Bongseon, I’ll go help you in the kitchen while these two help each other out here,” Joshua snickered. Before Joohyun or Jihoon could roast the couple in retaliation, they had already disappeared behind the counter.

After years of similar taunts, all Jihoon could do was shake his head. “Okay Joo, what is so important that you need my help at 6 in the morning?”

“I wrote my first response last night!” Joohyun whispered excitedly, taking out her laptop from her bag. “Well, a few hours ago. I wanted to show you before continuing on with the rest! Here, look.”

① Dear Miss Soju,

I just started my first year at MU and she’s an exchange student from New York. We met at a party and talked for two hours about comics, aliens, anything we could think of. It was perfect. She even asked me to walk her home. When the time came for me to make a move though, I kind of dropped the ball. Since we had just met that night, I didn’t want to come off too strong. Now I really regret it - I don’t even have her phone number. I feel like such an idiot! I can’t stop thinking about her, but I don’t even know if I’ll ever talk to her again. Did I make myself seem disinterested? Will we meet again? Will she even remember me?

Sincerely,

Big Cringy Idiot

She let Jihoon read the asker’s message first, then scrolled down to show her answer.

Dear Big Cringy Idiot,

You and your crush seem to have a lot in common. There is nothing wrong with being nervous around someone you like. In fact, it is fairly normal and is a good sign that you like this girl very much. She also seems open to any future possiblities, since she did ask you to take her home. You need not worry about coming off too strong in this situation, although I do admire your dedication to respecting women’s boundaries. I hope you are able to find this girl again so that you can truly tell her how you feel. Best of luck to you!

Sincerely,

Miss Soju

“Joo, that was…”

“Poetic, beautiful, life-changing?” Joohyun grinned, and nudged her best friend with each suggestion.

“Boring. It was boring.” Joohyun’s face fell, and Jihoon could only offer the girl an apologetic smile. “Dude, you’re gonna put people to sleep if you keep it up like this. I almost took out a pillow to take a nap on the floor.”

“But this is how I write my articles— Informative and concise! How else am I supposed to write it?”

“I mean, that’s great for reporting articles, but this is an advice column. It’s supposed to be fun, sarcastic maybe. Like your promo piece! That was good.”

“I wrote that as a joke, hoping they would fire me for it,” Joohyun admitted, eyes wide in panic as she looked at her best friend.

“Huh. Well, I think it would sound better than this Wikipedia article you got going on,” Jihoon shrugged. “Try to be fun!”

“I am fun!” Joohyun cried out defensively, her nostrils flaring with passion. When Jihoon responded with a doubtful look, she let out a dramatic gasp and snatched up her laptop, stomping over to her favorite corner in the cafe. “I can be fun! I’ll show you fun!”

“Atta girl,” Jihoon’s signature cackle filled the cafe, further fueling the girl’s aggressive typing.

Just another morning in the life of So Joohyun.

To the surprise of the cafe’s current occupants, a student already tapped at the glass entrance, clearly in desperate need of his morning americano. He had walked all the way from the freshman dorms after a restless night of tossing and turning. When his phone screen told him it was already 6:05AM, he decided to just give up on sleep altogether. So there he was, trying to start off his day right, at Smile Flower Cafe, only to be stopped at the door by the grumpy barista with the red hair. He always felt like the other one was way nicer, especially since he would go out of his way to sneak him free cookie samples and made pleasant small talk while ringing him up (what was his name? Jonathan?).

All the red-haired barista ever did was scowl at him when he asked for a student discount. Now, he scowled at him as he gestured at the sign that indicated that the cafe would not be open until 7AM. The fatigued freshman had half a mind to make some choice gestures of his own, but he refrained and just whipped out his phone instead. He gave the mean barista one last pout before turning around and walking towards the 24-hour convenience store on campus.

➠ [ to: vernonie 😌😎 ] Good morning king. Are you still on your shift ?

➠ [ from: vernonie 😌😎 ] gm seungkwan pls k*ll me

Seungkwan took that as a yes. It didn’t take long for him to arrive, the entrance bell ringing lightly when he stepped into the small store. At the register sat his roommate, who was clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. “Wol-cuh ‘n—” he tried to greet through a wide-mouthed yawn. “Excuse me, welcome in! Oh, hey Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan answered with a grunt and headed straight for the refrigerated coffee section, choosing the largest can.

“Uh dude, you good? You look like—”

“Like I haven’t slept all night? I am aware,” He immediately opened his coffee and took a long gulp of the beverage in hopes of feeling even a little better. When it did nothing after 30 seconds, he frowned at the concerned cashier. “Vernon, I will not be paying for this drink, because it is clearly defective. Coffee is supposed to fix everything.”

“Is this about your audition today?” Vernon asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Your monologue sounded really solid last night though. Your audition songs were great too. You totally got this in the bag!”

“It’s not just about the audition, sweet Vernon,” Seungkwan sighed. “It’s about who I’m going to see at the audition. I still don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.”

“Oh yeah, you are probably going to see them later.” For the past week, all Seungkwan could talk about was the theater tech sophomore that he had met at the theater department’s welcome party. They had sat beside Seungkwan and had helped him through all the fast-paced drinking games, and even took some of his shots when he kept losing. Surely, this was what love felt like.

That was what Seungkwan hoped anyway, because whatever it was made him feel all warm and tingly inside (or it could have just been the alcohol). Nevertheless, he had made big plans to confess to his crush as soon as possible. His dilemma for the past several days was merely a matter of how it would be done. “Not probably! I know for a fact that they will be there, because they told me that they couldn’t wait to see me,” Seungkwan let out a wail and slumped over the counter. “They’re the sweetest, most beautiful person to ever walk the earth and I just want to tell them that I would actually jump off a bridge for them. Why is that so difficult?”

Vernon nodded sympathetically as he always did. “I mean, if you’re not ready today, maybe you could wait?”

“Wait?! No offense babe, but last time I checked, waiting didn’t get you anywhere,” Seungkwan said, patting his roommate’s arm. Vernon cringed as he was forced to remember his own romantic blunder from the past week. “Clearly, we are both in major need of help. That Woozi guy’s show didn’t do anything for us! Also, we still haven’t heard from that Miss Soju character and it’s been what? Two days? If she’s such an expert, she would know that love is time sensitive!”

“Ugh, I know. I keep refreshing The Front’s website just to see if she’s posted it yet.” Vernon sighed forlornly, which was a common punctuation to his sentences lately. “It’s getting me really antsy. What if she doesn’t even choose to answer our emails this time?”

Seungkwan quickly covered the other freshman’s mouth. “Don’t say that! The universe manifests what we say will happen. We should ask for divine intervention instead.” He cleared his throat in preparation and threw his hands up to the sky. “O Eros, god of love, please shine your blessings down upon my and Vernonie’s love lives for we are but two humble, clueless freshmen in need of romantic guidance. Send down two of your swiftest, sharpest arrows, so that those that we desire may hear your soft whispers—”

Ding. The sound of the entrance bell rang once more, stopping Seungkwan’s prayer short, much to his irritation. “Is this a bad time?” the new customer, an ethereally handsome blonde, asked amusedly. He strode into the store and grabbed two spicy tuna triangle kimbab’s before approaching the counter.

“Jeonghan hyung!”

“Ah, Vernon!” Jeonghan smiled. “I didn’t know you worked here. You should come by my and Cheol’s apartment again soon, that was fun!”

“Hyung, this is my roommate that I told you about-- Seungkwan. And Seungkwan, this is Seungcheol hyung’s roommate,” Vernon said all while ringing up Jeonghan’s food. On the side, Seungkwan bowed sheepishly after unfreezing from his previous pose. “How’s your morning going? You wake up pretty early!”

Jeonghan laughed heartily, shaking his head. “Oh no, I just finished an all-night stream. I just came by to get a snack before heading to bed. Seems like you two have been having a fun morning, though. Do you two always start your day off by praying to the ancient Greek god of desire?”

Seungkwan flushed a deep pink. “Uh no, it was more like a cry of desperation. Vernon and I are having a pretty tough time confessing to our crushes, so I figured we should just try out anything that might help us. Nothing else seems to be working…”

“Wait, that’s so cute,” Jeonghan cooed.

“Would you be able to give us some advice, hyung?” Vernon asked. He didn’t know anything about the senior’s love life, but he did give off the vibe of someone who would know… a lot.

Jeonghan’s eyes twinkled dangerously, a lazy smirk on his lips. “I mean, I could go talk to your little crushes for you, if you’d like. I’m sure I could get some sort of response out of them.”

One look at Jeonghan had Vernon and Seungkwan shaking their heads vehemently.

“No, we’re good.”

“Yeah, no thanks.”

“Mm, good call.” Jeonghan took his food from the counter, and winked at the two boys. “I really wish I could help you both more, but I’m sure you’ll get what you’re waiting for soon! Today, if you want it enough.”

There was something in the way that the senior stated those words that made Seungkwan believe him without a question. It wasn’t a naive suggestion or an optimistic prediction; Jeonghan spoke like it was the truth plainly written on the walls. He finally felt a long-awaited wave exhaustion wash over his anxieties, softening them until they fizzled away alongside the ebbing foam. All that was left behind were grains of sand. Suddenly, Seungkwan yawned, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in his twin bed at the dorms.

“Well, I should be heading off to bed! Looks like you should be too, Seungkwan,” Jeonghan said, suppressing his own yawn. The freshman nodded in agreement. He definitely needed to rest up— this was going to be a big day, after all.

“Say hi to Cheol hyung for me when you get home!” Vernon said.

Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully as he made his way back to the entrance of the store. “I will if he’s there! He didn’t come home last night.” He turned to leave the boys with one last sleepy smile, seeming to laugh at something only he knew.

“At least one of us is doing something right.”

“Jihoon, why can’t I get this right?”

“I’m sorry! This just sounds nothing like you,” Jihoon shrugged. It had been a rather busy morning, but things slowed down as it approached noon, giving him the chance to look at Joohyun’s fourth draft of responses. “I’ve never heard you say stuff like ‘rad’ or ‘hella’... Like are you aware that you sound like a skater from the late 90’s?”

“That’s because the reference I’ve been using is from 1997!” Joohyun huffed in frustration. She was already backspacing albeit with a little more force than necessary. “I wasn’t even born in ‘97!”

“Exactly, so stop trying to write like that. What if you tried to—”

“Eat my ass, Hong!” The sound of the kitchen door slamming open interrupted Jihoon’s (probably unhelpful) suggestion, and the two best friends watched as Bongseon stormed out of the cafe in a familiar rage. Luckily, there were no customers to witness it this time.

Instinctively, they looked to the kitchen door, where Joshua stood with a resigned smile on his full lips. “Oops,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck apologetically. “Guess it was too soon to joke about our last break. Sorry about that, Jihoon. I’ll try to call in the head baker early to finish up the rest of the pastries for today.”

He walked over to where they sat and plopped himself across from Joohyun. She offered Joshua a look of sympathy, but he responded by twisting his face up in a dumb expression, reassuring her that he was just fine. Still, she couldn’t help feeling worried for both of her friends. No matter how many times Bongseon and Joshua broke it off and no matter how much Joohyun joked about it, she knew that their strong feelings for each other meant that it hurt a little every time they got into a fight. At least, that’s what she gathered from the various nights she spent soothing Bongseon while the girl cried into a toilet bowl, soju bottle still in hand.

“It’s okay, Josh, you probably don’t have to worry too much. Knowing her, she’ll probably be back in 30 minutes to make up with you and then Jihoon will have to find someone to take over your shift,” Joohyun piped up. “But please take it back to your apartment this time, because I don’t make enough money to have every surface of my apartment sanitized again.”

Joshua let out an easy laugh, as though he were not a man in deep shit. “Thank you, Joo. You always know what to say to make me feel better,” he sighed. “I should probably go after her. I’ll be back soon, Jihoon!”

She waited for him to disappear out the door before turning to her best friend. “Wow, that’s gotta be a new record for them, right? I didn’t even know they got back together until this morning.” Joohyun was surprised to find that Jihoon had been silently staring at her for a good minute now. “...Why are you looking at me?”

“What you said to Joshua,” Jihoon simply replied.

“Oh, I was only joking about the sanitation thing. I just walked in on them once in the kitchen—“

“No I mean, how you said it. Maybe that’s how you should be writing your responses.” Jihoon grinned, watching as Joohyun gave him that look again, the one where she looks at him like he’s speaking from a third head. But he knew that this was going to be another Jihoon Genius moment, which seemed to be happening more frequently lately, much to his satisfaction. “Like you’re talking to one of your friends. I mean, it made Josh feel better, right?”

Joohyun’s eyebrows scrunched together and she mulled the idea over. Without another word to Jihoon, she began to slowly type on her laptop, gradually tapping faster and faster as she gained momentum. Her best friend giddily returned to his place behind the counter to tend to the customers that just walked in. He knew that once she got into a groove, there was no hope of stopping her.

An hour later, Joohyun finally pushed away her laptop and waited for Jihoon to finish wiping down a table before calling him over. For some reason, she was anxious to show him the final product and even when he already sat besie her, she hesitated for a beat. Usually, her writing was professional and objective, always ending with a declarative period. She had spent years perfecting her reporting style so that when she presented the facts, that’s all they were. This, however, felt personal, like it was a part of her. And even though Jihoon probably knew her even better than herself sometimes, there was something so vulnerable about showing someone a side of her that she had only just discovered.

And yet, she was curious to know— desperate to know: was it any good?

“Well?” Joohyun watched for Jihoon’s reaction closely, both impatient and terrified to hear his thoughts.

“Joohyun, this...” Jihoon started slowly. She braced for impact. “This is it. I think you’ve found Miss Soju’s voice.”

She exhaled. “R-really?”

“Yes, really. You answered the questions so thoughtfully, so you know it’s not just some generic bullshit you found on the internet. Plus, it was fun to read, like I think I’d read this even if I didn’t send a letter in,” Jihoon gushed, all while skimming over the words again. He turned to smile brightly at her, reminding Joohyun of a much younger Jihoon back in their elementary school days. “Most importantly though, it’s so you.”

Joohyun returned the smile, just as brightly. Warmth bloomed in her chest and across her cheeks. “Thanks, Jihoon, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Honestly, me neither,” Jihoon laughed.

“Um, can I ask you one more thing though?” Joohyun scrolled down to the last two entries, both of which asked for advice on how to make things official with a guy they’ve been talking to. The two letters were extremely similar in detail, but had been sent from two different emails and two different signatures. At first, she thought that maybe her judgement was muddled by her lack of sleep, and as the day went on, she figured her inability to recognize any nuance between the two letters was thanks her lack of experience.

There was just something about the way they had described the boy. She knew that intelligent, funny, kind-hearted, and unbelievably handsome were pretty generic adjectives. But what were the odds for both letters to also mention his infectious laugh and deep, dark eyes? “Do you think these two are from the same person? I’m trying to go for a confession theme for this article, so I included them both, but I’m afraid they’re too similar.”

Jihoon read them over a couple of times, then shrugged. “They do sound pretty similar, but a lot of people go through that sort of thing. Also, so many people describe their crushes like that, but let’s be real, most of them end up being fuckboys. So trust me, both those people probably need your help. I mean, what’s the harm in publishing both, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Joohyun bit her lip, needing every ounce of reassurance she could get from her best friend. She read over her writing once, twice, thrice more. This was it. No more edits and no more excuses. Her finger hovered over the mousepad. “Okay, I”m going to send it in for approval now. Jihoon, you are about to witness me publish my first article for The Front.”

Joohyun took a deep breath and clicked. Finally.

28 notes · View notes

venom-visor · 4 years ago

Note

✿ - DECAY - an old memory, from childhood perhaps

Dingo had been planning this for him for months now.

He runs through it again. Wait for guard shift to change, unscrew air vent cover, go down the unblocked vent, then short hallway, then a left, then a window, then outside. Outside.

...outside.

He can't think about that now– he'll forget something and ruin this shot. Gotta run it through again.

He nervously rubs his thumb over the clock face of the watch stowed in his pocket– the three-hours-and-seventeen-minutes-off pocket watch.

Run through it again.

The light from the slim window 40 feet above him will reach the mark Dingo'd left on the wall, meaning the guard watching the security feed will have left the room to switch with the night guard (who's always late, and barely pays attention).

He'll use the screwdriver he hid in his shirt to take out the two screws left on the air vent, and quickly climb in and hold the vent cover in place. He'll wait until security saw nothing– assuming he was under his bed again. He'd been doing that for months now. For this. The guard will get bored and switch away, indicated by the tiny red light on the side of the camera switching off, that he'd been training himself to watch. He'll set down the cover and continue.

The path he needs will be the unblocked right vent at the second fork. He'll have to very Very Gingerly work his way down so as not to hit the bottom too loud and be found out. Then on. The end of the vent will be uncovered. It will. Dingo promised. He'll be out the other side in time to get down the hall before the next guard came around the corner on their patrol path. Exactly six minutes after the light touches the mark.

Then he'll need to wait.

Hiding behind the left corner down that hall is a camera blindspot. The end of the hall down that corner, however, is not. He won't be able to see the camera until it can see him, so he will need to wait. Dingo will be waiting to distract the camera's viewer at EXACTLY ten minutes after the light touches the mark.

Past that is a door directly outside. Before going through, he'll need to grab a blanket hidden behind some storage crates. Camo print specifically colored for this area of Tantalus. Dingo's. From there, it's just space. Open, grassy flat space. He'll have the blanket around his shoulders to easily cover if a light or guard gets too close. Dingo had shown him a crude map of the patrol paths, and how to avoid them. He burned it into his memory.

At the thirty minute mark, the guards at the southwest gate take a break and a clunky bot takes their place for ten minutes. The bot can't turn it's head or hear, so getting behind it and waiting for it to swivel is no issue. And past that gate he just needs to avoid the guards and lights until he gets to the small town directly west of the gate. He should still see the sun setting. If he's on time.

He'll need to be checking the seconds on that pocket watch constantly.

"This is the most important part," Dingo had told him, "if you forget to check it, or you're even a second off, this could all fail."

He had practiced checking it without looking. Silently listening for the ticking. Holding his breath and ignoring the thrum of his heart.

Tick, tick, t-tick

Dingo will meet him there and get him smuggled off world. He can't come with him. He has to stay. The plan will have been for nothing if he goes with.

It's time.

His breath is shuddering, his movements are less smooth than desired, but he gets the grate off of the vent, slips in, and holds it.

He stares at the camera light, holding his breath.

He counts the seconds.

It feels like hours.

It's been a whole minute.

The light flicks off.

He gently sets down the cover and quietly shimmies through the vent. 57, 58, 59...

Two minutes.

He passes the first fork, feeling it out in the pitch black dark, and reaches the second. He feels his way to the right vent and stops. He fumbles with the ragged laces of his shoes. He holds them tightly in one hand. 59...

Three minutes.

With the quietest bare-footed movements, and as gingerly as a trembling 14-year-old can, he climbs down the drop-off. 13, 14, 15– Anxiously, he counts. He's taking too long! 26– He doesn't know how far the end of the vent is– 48– He had taken too long holding the vent cover– 57– taken too long to find the way– 59–

Four minutes.

His feet find the bottom. He almost slips from surprise, but keeps his grip. The vent is, blessedly, right there. Open, and about five feet away. He peeks his head out. The hall is empty, he made it in time. He quietly drops down from the vent, eyes on the camera mounted next to it on the wall. It turns. 47, 48, 49... It turns back. 50, 51, 52... The red light flicks off. 53. He dashes down the hall and around the corner. 56. He sits and begins tying his shoes, still counting. 57, 58, 59...

Five minutes.

He stills and listens. 31, 32... He hears slow boot sole on concrete. 45, 46... Not running, no alarm. 55, 56... As it nears the other end of the hall, he holds his breath. 58, 59...

Six minutes.

The footsteps pass.

5, 6, 7...

He breathes a quiet, shaking sigh. 12, 13... It's now that he notices the trembling in his hands– 23, 24– had that been happening this entire time? 26, 27– He isn't sure, but he clenches and relaxes his hands a few times to lessen it. He breathes deep, focusing on keeping his tattoo from lighting. He continues counting the seconds. 58, 59...

Seven minutes.

He pulls the screwdriver back out and looks it over. Could this be any help if he gets caught? 37, 38– Nothing would be any help if he gets caught.

Eight minutes.

Nine minutes.

He stares down the hall, adrenaline picking back up. 14, 15, 16, 17– This is about to be it, the one part that's a true leap of faith. 28, 29– What if Dingo was wrong? What if something happened and he got hung up and won't make it there in time? 36, 37, 38– What if he got caught? 41, 42– What if they noticed something off and he's already dead?!

...

He lost count.

...

He lost count!

He panics– he has to guess now! He pulls the pocket watch out– what time was it when he left? If he can remember, he can jump right back in–

He can't remember!!

All he remembers is the second hand being at three. He watches the second hand ticking from the two towards the three and sighs in relief. He can get right back on. He waits. He makes his way further down the hall, to the edge of the camera's blindspot. The hand reaches three.

Ten minutes?

He peeks out just a sliver, just enough for one eye to see the camera. He continues counting, 1, 2, 3... It's stationary, facing an inner wall. He quickly sweeps across the small room, before reaching behind a crate nearest the door. It's there. The blanket ties easily around his shoulders, and he's out the door before he can over-think. 21, 22, 23...

The air smells of gasoline and copper– but also of damp earth and plants freshly rained on.

He basks in it.

Crouched here, catching his breath next to the closed door, he wonders if anywhere else could possibly have air this nice. This... wonderful.

He pulls the blanket up over his head in a makeshift hood and begins quickly and quietly making his way to and fro, darting between patches of dirt and shrubs, making his way to the nearest gate– the southwest gate. 58, 59–

Eleven minutes.

Then twelve.

Then thirteen.

He quietly scrambles back to a previous shrub, having nearly been caught in the beam of one of the many spotlights atop the surrounding outer wall of the complex. Almost caught, but not yet. He mentally clings to the numbers, drowning his panic. 57, 58, 59–

Fourteen minutes.

Then fifteen.

The gate isn't too far now. He can see the open archway in the wall, arcing over the worn dirt road that leads outside. Outside of all this. Outside of everything he's ever known. The two guards stand, backs towards each other, facing out each side. He waits for a light to pass before dashing to a spot against the wall, the grass high and untended.

Sixteen minutes.

He slowly shuffles, sticking against the wall and in the tall grass. Closer, and closer still. 23, 24, 25, 26– He sees the small decorative grassbeds that flank each side of the road inward, having symetrycal sets of shrubs, trees and decorative grasses. 38, 39– He stops. 40, 41– The neglected plants around the complex seemed a far cry from these ones. He carefully peeks down the path, back towards the buildings. A thinner, taller building than the one he left. The road becomes paved about twenty feet from the gate. 47, 48– The building looks better cared for, too. He squints. There's a sign about 25ft from him, but it's much too far to read. 58, 59–

Seventeen minutes.

He shakes his head. 5, 6, 7– He can't afford to get distracted. He waits for a passing guard to make their way up the road, and dashes to one of the decorative shrubs. 26, 27, 28– He gets comfortable in his hiding spot to take a real breather, knowing the wheezing will only get him caught. He's right in front of the gate. Breathe, just breathe. 58, 59–

Eighteen minutes.

What is life like? Outside these walls?

Every past escape attempt always failed before he could see the trees beyond. He'd never gotten close enough to a gate like this. Never close enough to see the winding path the dirt road takes. Close enough to see the way the horizon ridges up from the valley. To see the lamplight of a small town nestled at the bottom.

Nineteen minutes.

The sun makes it's way beyond the edge of the ridge. That town's straight towards it's descent. Probably the one he's headed for. What is it gonna be like? Probably big and crowded, he thinks. Everywhere feels big or crowded when you've lived in one room by yourself.

Twenty minutes, then twenty one, then twenty two...

He pulls out the pocket watch and counts to himself– it should say three hours and seventeen minutes when the guards are supposed to switch out. 12, 13– Knowing this makes him feel a bit more in control, despite continuing counting the seconds. 34, 35– He'd never heard much about other worlds. Where would he even go? Dingo seemed to have a very specific place in mind, with how regimented the plan is, so where? What kind of place would be able to hide him? 57, 58, 59–

Twenty three minutes.

Then twenty four, and twenty five.

His mind goes blank, save for the counting.

...58, 59–

Twenty six.

...58, 59–

Twenty seven.

...58, 59–

Twenty eight.

The guards are chatting about something, too far to hear the words clearly. They seem relaxed.

...58, 59–

Twenty nine.

They move from their spots, still idly discussing something, and a door in the side of the gate opens to reveal and old, thoroughly rusted robot. 13, 14, 15– Slowly, it ca-clunks out. It's vaguely human-shaped– cylindrical center with two jagged zigzags for legs. No arms, he notes, but a large (if decrepit) multi-chamber gun mounted on it's shoulder. 37, 38– It's head is more reminiscent of a large aluminum can than a head– with a small flashlight and with only one cracked lens for an eye. The two guards wait for it to– with a hiss from the hydraulics– set into place. One says something to the other with a smile, and the other chuckles. 56, 57– They vanish into the door, closing it behind them. 58, 59–

Now.

He watches the bot carefully. 8, 9– He needs to know it's pattern. Ten minutes is all he has to learn. The bot and light turn, painfully slow, illuminating the inside of the walls. Then it turns, just as fast, to the outside. Then back, the same way. It doesn't turn behind it. Yet. He watches still, for a whole minute.

It turns around, looking inward and outward. He notes that.

Then turns back around, doing the same in the other direction.

Over the minute he counts, the bot repeats this pattern. Turns left, turns right, turns further right. Then left, right, further right again.

He braces himself. 57, 58, 59–

One minute.

He dashes behind the bot. It swivels– left, right, further right. Circling around, he keeps himself behind it and never taking his eyes off it. Left, right, further right. Mirroring it's movements. Left, right, further right.

He's out.

Immediately, he darts for the treeline. He's free. Free. He just has to make it to town now. His legs are so tired, never once in his life has he walked and ran this much. Had this much space to move. Do people get this everyday?

He hears a squeak. He looks.

A car comes to a halt, thirty feet down the road from him.

He didn't see it.

Staring down that bot so intently.

He didn't see the car.

There's no way they didn't see him.

A person gets out of the car, holding what looks like a cup of something. Steam rises from it as they peer over the hood.

He holds his breath.

They look right at him in the foliage, smirk, and motion to the other people in the car.

Guards.

He runs.

Still having the inhibitors on, he struggles to summon up any little bit of power. Behind him, an alarm blares. He prays for wings, begs. He's been in one room his whole life. He's outside of the walls for the first time. He's never ran before. The guards are faster.

In a downhill sprint, he breaches the other side of the treeline. He catches a glimpse of the two moons rising above the distant ridge. Knowing it's probably the last time he'll see them. He screams in frustration. The inhibitors around his arm and throat burn, purple seething forth in streams that trail behind him. This was his CHANCE. His chance.

And it's over.

His face meets dirt. Tackled from behind, armored shoulder meeting the small of his back. He kicks, screams, claws the dirt. Easily pinned by a knee between his shoulder blades, he clings to the feeling of the ticking in his pocket. He counts in his head.

1, 2, 3–

The guard over him tries to rummage through their bag, calling the rest over with a shout. He struggles, he kicks.

25, 26, 27–

The guard lifts and thuds their knee down, knocking the wind out of him.

41, 42, 43, 44–

Gasping, struggling to breathe past the dirt and mud, he stops moving.

46, 47–

A needle is shoved in his arm.

57..., 58..., 59...

The screams quiet, struggling stops.

#histoire #riposte #i would apologize for how long it is but like also this felt so nice to write out

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beeblebrox-be-damned · 6 years ago

Text

Drive Him Crazy (Part 7)(A bit of Christmas Fluff!!)

Dark!Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Reader

Christmas normally gets me really down (moreso than usual), so I wrote bit of Christmas fluff to cheer myself up. More to come later uwu

Without the lab to go to, you were at a loss of what to do. Over the next month after the incident, you spent your time trying out various hobbies.

Sewing was a bust. It seemed you fingertips were magnets for the sharp ends of needles. Knitting went in much the same way, though the needles weren’t as sharp and mostly you just got your hands tangled in yarn. It seemed that everything you tried was either too boring or too frustrating to keep up with.

As the holidays drew nearer, you made up your mind to take up cooking. You were decent, but you were sure you could improve. Surprisingly, you took to it fairly well. Steve seemed quite impressed, and the domesticity of it was quite pleasant for both of you. At times Steve almost felt like he was back in the 40’s, with a doting housewife and baby on the way. It was addicting.

The domestic bliss carried over into the rest of life too. You threw your heart into being the best Omega you could, since you couldn’t distract yourself with working outside the home. Days spent cleaning, something you used to hate, now were rather enjoyable. You could work without Steve hovering over you as though you were made of glass.

One month before Christmas, you decided you wanted to decorate. With quite a bit of cajoling, you managed to get Steve to relent to your whims. A trip to the store, with Steve accompanying you protectively of course, yielded strings of lights and classy ornaments, as well as a few other odds-and-ends. (Which included a very odd little kit that Steve insisted on getting but would not let you see yet. All you got a glimpse of was the silhouette of a very pregnant lady on the package cover.)

Of course, no homey Christmas is complete without a tree. Clutching Steve’s hand tightly in your own smaller, mitten-clad one, you trudged merrily through the snow. The Avenger’s Compound was located on many acres of woodland, which included many stands of evergreens. You had been fine with settling for a plastic tree, but Steve insisted upon having an authentic pine.

Breath clouding in front of you, you turned and looked at Steve. He was carrying an ax, sharpened and ready for whichever tree you determined to be suitable. Unbothered by the cold, he wore a plain plaid shirt covered with a thick jacket you had forced him to wear. Snow flakes settled in his hair and the scruff of a beard he’d been cultivating. You wanted to kiss him until each one melted away.

You, unfortunately, were dressed very heavily. Steve wouldn’t let you out of the compound into the bitter winter air without every stitch of winter wear you owned covering your body. You had protested, but he was every bit as stubborn as you and won out eventually. Your jacket puffed out everywhere, and he had cheerily forced a hat upon your head that even covered your ears. You swore you looked like the Stay-Puffed Marshmallow Man from Ghostbusters, much to your chagrin. When you had said this, Steve only grinned and patted your belly, telling you it looked terribly cute.

The snow wasn’t too deep, thankfully, or your legs would’ve hated you. You were in good shape, you were an Avenger after all, but the layers of heavy clothing, huge snowboots, and the baby-weight you’d put on were all very hindering to your general movement. Finally tired of walking, you stopped and plopped down on a fallen tree after swiping some snow off of it.

“I’m done walking,” you huffed, “we can find a tree here, yeah?” Steve glanced around the small clearing you’d entered, nodding.

“Looks good to me, little one. See anything you like?” He gazed over the trees, taking off his jacket so he could better maneuver his ax. His muscles rippled beneath his shirt delectably as he tested the weight and swing of the tool.

Your tongue swiped over your lips as you watched him. “Well, for one, you standing right there in front of me.” It was no secret your libido had been sky-high as of late, something Steve often took advantage of.

He grinned and shook his head. “Woah there little girl, it’s too cold for that kind of talk.” He stretched one more time, just to tease you. “I meant, do you see a tree you like?”

You scanned the area, finally settling on a modest sapling. It was around six feet tall, not too big or too small to make a good Christmas tree. It was coated in snow, but the green needles peeked out at you invitingly. You lifted your hand and pointed, then realized it was probably a bit hard to see where you were pointing considering it was a bit hard to see your fingers, removed your mitten, and pointed again. “That one looks nice. What do you think?”

Steve walked over to the tree, brushing away snow. “Looks perfect to me,” he said, clearing snow away from the tree’s base.

“Are you sure it isn’t too big? We walked quite a way and I don’t want you to have to carry it so far if it’s too much,” you fretted. Steve chuckled.

“Honey, this tree is tiny. I’ll have no trouble with it.” He took a swing at the tree’s base, making a sizable dent at the first try. “Y’know,” he said as he worked, “once I carried Bucky two miles in two foot-deep snow?”

“Really? Dang. What happened?” You leaned over as a wood-chip flew past your ear.

Steve laughed, beginning to explain the story as he finished cutting the tree and the two of you trudged home. “Well, you see, Bucky had gotten a bit too tipsy the night before at the base…”

Steve made sure both you and the tree made it home in one piece. By the time you got back, all the snow had fallen from its branches, leaving it ready to be decorated. Once the two of you had wrangled it in and out of the elevator and got it into the apartment, you were buzzing with excitement. While Steve situated the tree in its water-filled base, you set to work unboxing ornaments and lights and tinsel.

The tree looked perfect. You and Steve had worked for over an hour to get it decorated just right, the display looking stunning. You grinned as you looked at your handiwork, handing the star to Steve. “One last touch.”

Steve pressed the star back into your hands, then grabbed your hips and lifted you easily. It wasn’t that far to the top, and you were light as a feather. You placed the star on the tree, connecting it to the strand of lights so that it lit up too. Steve sat you back down, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin atop your head. “Perfect, ‘Mega. Good job.”

You grinned at the praise, a chill of happiness shooting up your spine. You tilted your head backwards and planted a kiss on the underside of his scruffy chin, then wriggled out of his grasp. You reached for a strand of unused tinsel, winding it around your neck like a fancy feather boa. You shot Steve a playful look, grinning. He shook his head and laughed, then a look of excitement flashed over his face. “I’ll be right back,” he said and left the room.

He returned a moment later with an unopened shopping bag. “Sit down and close you eyes, okay?” You looked at him warily, but sat back on the couch and let your eyes fall shut. You heard the rustle of packaging and raised your eyebrow. “Just what are you up to, Rogers?”

“Hush and let me work,” he said. You could practically hear his shit-eating grin. You flinched and giggled as he pushed your shirt up over your belly. You felt something cold on your belly, and you yelped. It tickled, whatever it was. “Hold still, little one,” Steve said, concentrating.

The ticklish torture lasted several minutes. Finally, Steve sat back and let you open your eyes. You snorted as you looked down at your belly, laughing.

The kit Steve had gotten was a Christmas-themed set of skin-safe paint, intended to be used to decorate a baby-bump. Steve had done just that, painting a large green wreath with a red bow on your skin. In the center was something you couldn’t quite read all the way. Steve grinned.

“It says ‘Alpha’s Christmas present’,” he said proudly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You smiled, face burning with embarrassment and affection for the valiant Avenger.

Before you could react, Steve had whipped out his camera, snapping a photo of you. “I plan to get one of these every year,” he said, swiping his tongue over his lips. You raised your eyebrow.

“Every year?” you asked incredulously. Steve had talked like that before, but it was during coitus and you’d never thought about it seriously.

Steve smirked and nodded, standing up and pulling you to your feet. “Every year,” he said, planting a quick kiss on your nose and then a longer, more sensual kiss on your lips. “Now, how ‘bout you let alpha get a sneak peak at his present?”

You blinked, stepping back and trying to process what you’d just heard. “Steve, every year? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?” You could hardly imagine it, bouncing young pups on your hips while struggling with more on the way.

Steve frowned, nudging you to sit back down on the couch. He kneeled in front of you, kissing your painted belly. “No,” he stated simply, “I don’t.” He trailed kisses down your belly, leaning you back so he could reach every bit of the skin between your navel and pelvis.

“B-but, I can’t take care of that many,” you stammered. You’d be overwhelmed, and likely never able to return to work as an Avenger.

Steve chuckled, reaching the rim of your sweatpants and tugging them down your hips, your panties traveling shortly behind. “Yes you will, Omega. And I’ll be there to help.” His lips ghosted over your folds, his breath warm against the sensitive skin.

“But you have work!” you exclaimed, shaking your head. “I can’t take care of that many kids every day, especially not if I’m pregnant. I have a hard enough time doing regular tasks as it is without having to worry about taking care of pups!” Your belly was quite a struggle to work with as it grew.

Steve smiled and placed a firm kiss over your clit before he rose and pressed a kiss to your lips. “You won’t be alone all day,” he rumbled, nipping your lower lip. “I’m going to cut back on missions.” His hands caressed your swollen breasts, teasing your sensitive, pert nipples through your shirt.

You raised your eyebrows. “What? But the team needs you. They need me too, we can’t just abandon that!” You pushed at his shoulder, trying to stave him off while you discussed this matter.

With one hand he unzipped his pants, baring his cock. He rubbed himself as he smiled at you, groaning as he spoke. “Omega, I’ve made it clear you aren’t going to be back on missions for a long, long time. I already told the team.”

Your jaw dropped. “You wha- ah..!” Your protests were cut off as he parted your legs and entered you in one swift motion. You fought back a moan as he rocked his hips.

Steve’s lips found your’s once again as he started to fuck you roughly, getting his point across. You were his. “And with all the new members, I only need to go on major missions. Maybe twice a year, or even less.” His hands locked on your hips as he rutted into you.

You whimpered as his thick, pulsing cock massaged you walls, dragging in and out of your soaked cunt with a learned precision. He knew every part of you, every place to hit in order to drive you towards your climax. “I’ll be here for you all the time,” he rumbled, his lips dragging over yours, “with all our pups. It will be perfect.”

His lips found your bond-mark, mouthing the sensitive scarred area. You shivered and whined, melting beneath him despite yourself. The sensations were clouding your head. “St-eve,” you panted, “I-”

“Shh,” he soothed, silencing you once more with a kiss. His thumb rubbed your clit. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your body jerked and your walls spasmed, milking his cock. He spilled into you with a loud groan. “Shh, it’ll be okay, ‘Mega..”

Knotted and unable to separate, Steve lifted you up and laid back on the couch, sitting you on top of him, straddling his hips. His hands kneaded your sides as he admired your painted, burgeoning belly. “It’ll be perfect, Omega,” he repeated. “A perfect family.” TAGLIST:

@stupendousshepherdloverpony @imsonick @auroussss

#dark!steve rogers #dark marvel #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o au #a/b/o marvel #christmas fluff #pregnancy #pregnant reader

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7-wonders · 6 years ago

Text

From the Desk Of...

Summary: The mandatory class you’re forced to take this semester is enough to make you consider dropping out of college. The only thing that makes it bearable is your teacher: Professor Duncan Shepherd. He’s smart, handsome, witty, and, not to mention, twenty years your senior.

Word Count: 5500 (I am so sorry)

A/N: So I’m totally going to hell for this. Cannot believe my longest oneshot on here is now an older!professor!Duncan fic. You’ll recognize the first part of this from a blurb I wrote a couple of weeks ago. Anyways, warnings for age gap, questionable place to have sex, sex, student-teacher relationship, mentions of cum, daddy kink, yeah that’s it.

Political science was not something that interested you at all, nor was it something that was even remotely related to your major. Your college made it a requirement that students take at least one class not related to their major, and unfortunately for you, the only class that fit your schedule this semester was American Politics. And boy, is it a boring class. You could be learning something that you actually care about, furthering your education and gaining new skills to use in your intended career. Instead, you’re stuck sitting in a classroom for fifty minutes a day, three days a week, being forced to learn about the Framers and how it relates to politics today. The only thing that makes the class bearable is him.

Professor Duncan Shepherd is incredibly smart, enigmatic, witty, and not to mention extremely attractive. He’s tall, with a pair of piercing blue eyes that easily pin you to your seat whenever he glances your way. Sometimes you have to physically hold yourself back from running your hands through his perfectly-styled chestnut hair, and you’ve spent countless hours imagining how his salt and pepper beard would feel against your inner thighs. How cliche, right? You have a crush on your professor. Your older professor, at that.

Yes, you had Googled him, but that was before your first class with him! Who doesn’t look up their professors on the internet to make sure they’ve got good reviews? Instead of finding out on Rate My Professor that he graded really harshly or enjoyed debates about the Constitution (or whatever the fuck political science professors get excited about), you learned that the 40-year-old perpetual bachelor had taken a job teaching college students as a part of his plea deal after some scandal that had happened when you were a kid. Apparently he really enjoyed it, and left Washington’s inner circle to teach full-time.

Mr. Shepherd, in addition to being one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen, is also a damn good teacher. He was passionate, and believed that his students’ ideas were valid and just as good as his. Although the subject of political science didn’t interest you, the debates that you could hold with Mr. Shepherd about any political subject are some of the highlights of your week. You still can’t look at him for too long without turning red and having to look away, but you’re working on it. It’s only been a month, and hopefully soon you’ll be over this childish crush.

As you make your way to Mr. Shepherd’s office, you keep repeating over and over again in your head that you’re “over this little crush.” It’s not like you had wanted to be alone with him in his office, but the current essay you’re working on is kicking your ass. With the due date looming closer everyday, you decided it’s time to finally swallow your nerves and ask for help from your professor.

“Mr. Shepherd?” You ask, slipping in past his slightly-open office door. His office is exactly how you thought it would be: classy, scholarly, and organized. He looks up from his computer, and your heart skips a beat at the thick black frames perched on his strong nose.

“(Y/N), come in. Close the door behind you, please.” He smiles at you, and you have to bite back the urge to run out the way that you came in.

“Oh-uh, okay.” You stutter, lightly closing the door.

“We can keep it open if you’d like, I just prefer to have it closed when I’m meeting with students.” Duncan chuckles. You don’t notice the way that he bites his lip when he sees your face going bright red, or how his eyes linger on the swell of your ass when you go to close the door.

“No, that’s fine!” You gratefully sit in the chair opposite his desk, thankful to not be supporting yourself on your shaky legs. Unizpping your backpack, you busy yourself with grabbing your laptop so you don’t have to look him in the eye.

How disgusting, Duncan chides himself when he can’t stop staring at you. Having a crush on your student? Of all the creepy things you’ve done, this has to top the list. She’s twenty years younger than you! She could be your daughter!

He tries to reason with himself, but the thought of the age gap only makes his attraction for you grow. Duncan can already feel himself swelling inside his slacks, and he grits his teeth and tries to think about the weather instead.

“So, you had mentioned in your email that you’re having a little trouble with writing your midterm paper?” He clears his throat, taking his glasses off so he can better see your (beautiful) face.

“Yeah, I just-I have my thesis statement, but that’s basically the only thing I have. I have no clue what sources to use to support it.”

Duncan nods, relieved that this is something he can use to distract himself. Gesturing for you to put the laptop on his desk, you both fall into the complexities of writing a good essay. Even after he helps you find sources that would fit well with your paper, you don’t leave. Instead the conversation shifts, easily changing from schoolwork to news from today.

You’re very smart, Duncan notices. He’s known that you’re smart; your tests and papers have proved as much. But the way that you talk, your ideas and viewpoints, rival the intelligence of many of his colleagues and friends. Soon enough, two hours have passed since you first set foot into his office. The sky has long-since darkened, and neither of you realize how late it is until Duncan glances at the clock.

“I apologize, (Y/N). I kept you here far later than you had probably intended to be here.” You smile bashfully, looking down at your hands, and Duncan’s own heart skips a beat at the sight.

“Oh that’s fine, Mr. Shepherd. If I hadn’t been here, I’m sure I would have just been back at my dorm.”

“Please, call me Duncan.” Your eyes widen, and you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Funny, I specifically remember you telling everybody that you were only to be called ‘Mr. Shepherd’ and nothing else.”

Duncan has a split-second to decide on what to say and do. He could lie, tell you that he only lets students who actually put an effort into his class call him Duncan. Or he could tell you the truth, that he likes you (but just conveniently leave out the part where it’s more than platonic). He makes his decision, and sends out a prayer to whatever’s out there that it’s the right one.

“That’s true, I did say that. But you, (Y/N), can call me Duncan.” A deep blush paints your cheeks, and Duncan has to bite back a groan at the angelic sight.

“O-okay…Duncan.”

“My name’s never sounded as nice as it does coming out of your mouth.” The words slip past Duncan’s inner filter before he can even think, and his heart sinks when you gasp. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Is that what you like? You like it when I say your name, Duncan?” Duncan’s eyes are the size of saucers, and they darken a shade as he stares at you. It doesn’t help that you look so goddamn innocent, looking up at him through your lashes and just barely holding back a smile.

The next few moments pass by in a blur. You stare each other down, both silently asking the other if they’re feeling the same feelings. Suddenly, Duncan surges over the desk and grabs your face in his large hands. If you thought that the kisses you’ve had before were good, the one that you’re currently sharing with Duncan cannot even compare. He’s extremely skilled, his tongue working your mouth open and exploring every inch of you. You can’t help but to groan loudly, finally getting to tangle your hands in his beautiful hair.

When you both realize the taboo of your actions, a teacher kissing his much-younger student and vice versa, you spring apart.

“Oh my god, we shouldn’t have done that! I’m so sorry!” You apologize profusely, lips swollen and face flustered. Duncan only smirks at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What, you didn’t want that?”

“No, I did, but it’s so wrong! I just-I need to go.” Duncan didn’t think it was possible for you to blush more, but your face gets redder in embarrassment as you start throwing your things in your bag. Yanking a spare sheet of paper out, you scribble something on it and fold it up before throwing it on his desk. “Thanks for your help, Mr. Shepherd.” You squeak, slamming the door behind you.

Duncan sighs, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he thinks about what just happened. He almost starts to regret making a move on you until he picks up the paper you had thrown on his desk. A grin spreads across his face when he realizes what you wrote down: your phone number.

Stupid. What a stupid, stupid, stupid move move on your part. Not only did you kiss your much-older professor and run away right after, but you also decided to leave your phone number on his desk! Who does that? You do, apparently, but that’s not the point right now. The fact that you feel sad when you periodically check your phone through the rest of the night, only to see no notifications from Mr. Shepherd--no, Duncan--mildly sickens you. You’re really that cliche girl who gets a crush on her teacher now. What makes you think that he even wants a college student? You’re sure that there’s plenty of beautiful men and women his own age who throw themselves at him. Tossing and turning all night, you can still feel his scratchy beard and full lips against your own.

The next day, you’re considering just skipping Duncan’s class. It’s a Friday, after all, and you’ve been really good at making an effort to show up to classes this semester instead of skipping. Skipping one day of class surely wouldn’t hurt your grade, but it would also just prove that you really are a coward who couldn’t handle having shared a kiss with an older man. So, no matter how much you’re dreading the next hour, you still get ready and trudge towards Political Science.

It’s a small miracle that Duncan’s talking to another student when you slink through the door, making it impossible for him to try and talk to you. You take your seat in the middle of the room, immediately opening up your laptop and making it look like you’re busy with some sort of work. You’re actually not, the Buzzfeed quizzes on your screen acting as a dead giveaway, but you’ll do anything right now to avoid having to look into his eyes. Even though you’re not looking at him, you can still feel the exact moment that his eyes lock onto you. Your shoulders stiffen when that familiar electric feeling courses through your body, the source of it all able to pick you apart and put you back together with a simple glance. Thankfully, class starts before he has a chance to approach you, forcing Duncan to stand at the front of the room and give his lecture.

The lecture today is actually mildly interesting, and the class passes by quickly. You’re not quite sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but you decide you’ll figure it out once you get out of class without having to interact with Duncan. Throwing your coat on, you slide your backpack over your shoulders and keep your head down while you power towards the door.

“(Y/N).” A commanding voice has you stopping in your tracks right before you can reach the door. Your classmates file around you, obviously miffed that you’re blocking the exit. Turning around slowly, you force a smile on your face and head to the teacher’s desk.

“Yes, Mr. Shepherd?” You ask quietly, picking at your nail instead of looking up at him.

“I know we ran out of time yesterday before you finished requiring my help on your paper,” you’re mildly confused for a moment before you hear the coughing of a student standing behind you who also has a question, “so if you’re available today and you still have some questions, you’re more than welcome to stop by my office after four. Alright?”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Mr. Shepherd.” You look up at him, automatically blushing when your eyes meet his, before hurrying out the door.

Although you’re tempted to lurk around campus, it’s only two o’clock. If you do decide to take Duncan up on his offer, you want to at least get ready and wear something that isn’t a baggy college sweatshirt and a pair of leggings. Sitting on your bed at home, you stare at the wall while you think about what just happened.

Surely Duncan’s offer to ‘help you with your paper’ meant that he didn’t regret the events that happened last night, right? Unless...maybe he did regret it. Maybe he wants to speak to you and let you know that he’ll be failing you due to what occurred in his office. What if he reports you to the Dean for coming onto him like that? You were the one who teased him, after all, calling him by his first name and asking him what he ‘liked.’ The idea of getting in trouble for one stupid lapse in judgement makes your palms extremely sweaty and your chest tighten. The ever-increasing speed of your thoughts is interrupted by your phone chiming next to you.

‘I really do hope you take me up on my offer. I look forward to seeing you. -D’

You gasp in excitement, falling back on your bed and re-reading the text since your brain doesn’t want to believe that this is actually happening. There’s no doubt in your mind now that Duncan wanted last night just as much as you did, and if the same trains of thought apply tonight, you’re both expecting the same things. Opening up the middle drawer of your dresser and pushing past all of the t-shirts you sleep in, your hands drift over the silky materials at the bottom.

The lingerie had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. You had originally gone to Victoria’s Secret intending to just get some new panties (because who can pass up their semi-annual sale?), and had come across a pretty pink babydoll piece that had accidentally been placed with the wrong items. Something stopped you when you went to toss it to the side, making you pause and feel the fabric between your fingers. You had never owned a set of lingerie before; any of the boys you had even managed to make it to second base with, which is very few, cared less about what you were wearing and more about what was under your clothes. Still, the idea of lingerie intrigues you. Even if you don’t have a man to wear it for, just the thought of wearing such risque undergarments under your clothes while going about your regular day sounds exciting. Plus, sometimes a girl likes to feel sexy for herself.

In the end, you had bought three different sets: a sheer bra and panty set, the pink babydoll piece (which you wore to bed when you needed some self-esteem and self-love), and a lacy teddy. Although all of the pieces are different, they all make you feel sexy, powerful, and confident. But, that was always when you were wearing it just for you. No man had ever seen you in lingerie (jesus, had it really been that long since you got laid?), and the confidence that you normally feel in lingerie starts to be replaced with some doubt. Would Duncan like the lingerie or would he think it’s cheap; like some little girl trying to play dress-up?

You grab the bra and panties before you can change your mind, slipping them on and staring at yourself in the mirror to make sure you’ve got it on right. While you want to look nice for Duncan, you don’t want to look too nice. After a few minutes in front of your closet, you decide on a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt, a comfy cardigan completing the look. You’re not too pleased with your final outfit, but you know that if you don’t leave now, you’re never leaving.

“Now or never.” You mutter, swiping some chapstick on your lips and fixing your hair before walking out the door.

You deliberately wait to enter Duncan’s office until 4:05. Not too late, but also not early or on-time. Knocking politely, you wait a moment before opening his door.

“Mr. Shepherd?” You’re a little nervous that he’ll already have a student in here, but you only see him. Those glasses that somehow manage to make Duncan look even more distinguished are perched on his nose while he types away on his computer. Once you call his name he stands, closing the computer and placing his glasses on top.

“(Y/N), come in please.” You don’t need him to tell you to close the door this time, but he still walks out from behind his desk. “I’m glad that you decided to meet me.”

“Sorry if I was...uh, awkward...in class today.” You apologize sheepishly.

“That’s alright, I figured that’s how it would be. You did leave here very abruptly yesterday.”

When the blush spreads from your cheeks to your neck, Duncan can’t help but to smile. It’s endearing to him how utterly flustered you get when in his presence, all of your stuttering and blushing only making him want to take you in his arms and never let you go.

“Sorry about that.” You repeat.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing, you did nothing wrong.” He chuckles. “Listen, before we do anything besides standing here and talking, I want to make sure that you are comfortable with this.”

“Yeah, I’m comfortable.” You nod your head jerkily, and Duncan frowns slightly.

“That was one of the most unconvincing answers I’ve heard in a while.” He teases you, if only to watch you flush and dip your head. “(Y/N), do you want this as much as I do?”

“I do want...whatever this is gonna be.” You still won’t look Duncan in the eyes for too long, so he takes your chin and lifts your head so you have no choice but to look at him.

“Why are you hiding from me, then?”

You shrug, but he can see that his touch has an immediate effect on you. Your eyes are dilated and your lips part to let shaky breaths out. You’re drawn in, subconsciously tilting your head to try and feel his touch on your cheek. Duncan can tell just how inexperienced you are. If you have had sex, it’s likely been with boys your own age, ones who only know how to fuck in missionary and cum within minutes. He doubts a boy has even made you cum before, which is a true shame. Duncan Shepherd, however, is not a boy.

He’s a man.

A man who can tell just how desperate you are to let go of control. A man who can tell that you want an older, more experienced man to teach you and guide you. A man who knows you want to be taken care of, and who wants to take care of you. A man who can help bring you intense pleasure, the likes of which you’ve never felt before.

Your bodies are drawn closer together while you look up at him with wide eyes, unintentionally batting your eyelashes towards him. The innocence that radiates off of you is enough to make Duncan already hard at the thought of all of the possibilities. He wants nothing more than to rip your clothes off and mark all up and down your body. He wants you on your knees, pretty mouth wide open while he paints your face with his seed. He wants to fuck you anywhere and everywhere, and to let everyone know that you’re his.

“Don’t be shy.” He whispers, leaning his face closer to yours.

This kiss is just as good, if not better than the one that you shared yesterday. Duncan pushes you against the door, tongue running against your bottom lip while you tangle your hands in his hair. He smirks against your lips when the stubble of his beard rubs against your cheek and makes you whine out. His hands are all over you, leaving trails of fire in their wake before they settle on your hips. Eventually you pull away for air, biting your lip when you see Duncan’s swollen lips.

“We should probably lock the door.”

You mutter, breathing deeply in an attempt to stop your head from spinning. Duncan nods, running his hand through his hair while he reaches around you to lock the door. The only window in his office is one that overlooks the science building, and the blinds on that have been closed since before you arrived. Duncan grabbing your hand pulls you out of your thoughts, as well as straight into his chest. Your hands fly up, landing against his solid muscle. When you look up at him, he’s staring at you with a look you’ve never seen someone have towards you--it’s more than attraction, and while there’s definitely lust, you can feel a softer emotion there too. His lips claim yours again for a moment, Duncan barely pulling back so he can speak.

“Jump.” He commands, large hands cupping your ass.

It’s impossible for you to ignore his request, and you wrap your legs around his waist while you take the lead and kiss him again. He walks towards what you’re assuming is his desk, not even needing to open his eyes to know where he’s going. His hair’s incredibly soft, you muse when you find your hands tangled in his locks once again. Duncan takes your distraction as an opportunity to seize control again, squeezing your ass harshly. When your mouth opens in a gasp he slips his tongue inside, expertly curling it around yours. He removes one of his hands from around you to sweep the papers off of his desk, leaving you momentarily impressed at his strength.

Once Duncan sets you down on the desk he pulls away, making you pout exaggeratedly. You slip your fingers into the top of his slacks, using his belt to pull him towards you. When your hands start to undo the buttons on his shirt, he gently takes your hands in his.

“What?” You ask, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“This is all about you. Let me take care of you, (Y/N).”

Duncan’s own hands find the hem of your shirt, gently pulling on it while he waits for your signal. The second you nod he’s pulling it over your head, a low groan forcing its way out of his throat at the sight. He’s entirely too eager when he unbuttons your jeans to pull them off of your legs, making you giggle. Duncan’s eyes rake over your body, and he takes a step back just so he can fully take in the sight.

“Matching bra and panties? You little minx! Did you do this for me, (Y/N)?”

“Do you like it?” Duncan can see how desperate you are for his approval, which makes his knees weak. He can’t help but to give you an approving kiss, nodding.

“Of course I do, princess.” He’s not really sure where the pet name comes from, but the moan you make after he calls you by it is all he needs to know. “You know I’m gonna have to take this pretty set off, though.”

“Do it, please.” You say softly in his ear, looping your arms around his neck.

Duncan easily unclasps your bra, removing your hands from him so that it can slide off of your arms. Once bare, you’re suddenly self-conscious: what if he doesn’t like what’s under the wrapping? When you try to slyly cross your arms over your chest, he catches on immediately.

“Don’t hide yourself from me.” His hands, which you’re quickly becoming infatuated with, gently pry your arms away from your chest. His intense gaze has you turning red again, but the open-mouthed kisses he starts laying on your neck and trailing down towards your chest erase any thoughts of self-consciousness from your mind.

“Duncan, I-” A broken moan cuts off what you were trying to say when he lightly bites down on the skin above your collarbone, sucking until he’s satisfied with the quickly-forming bruise.

He continues leaving bruises down your body, fingers tweaking and teasing your nipples. Your head is thrown back towards the ceiling while your hands grip the edge of his desk, hips bucking up while you attempt to gain some sort of friction. Duncan smirks against the swell of your breasts when he notices your impatience, lithe fingers ghosting against the top of your panties while he surges back up to kiss you. You lift yourself off of the desk for a moment, allowing Duncan to hook his fingers into your waistband and drag the fabric off of your body. Even though you’re completely exposed now, the hungry way he looks at you makes it impossible for you to feel shy.

“You’re beautiful, (Y/N).” He says, placing both hands on his thighs while he looks at you earnestly. You’re almost taken aback at the compliment; you’ve been called things like cute, hot, and pretty before, but never beautiful. A goofy smile pops onto your face, making Duncan chuckle softly. “You are.”

You didn’t need the reassurement, but it certainly doesn’t hurt to continuously be called beautiful by the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. You watch with rapt attention as Duncan sinks to his knees in front of you, using the hands on your thighs to spread your legs apart for him. He licks his lips when he sees your glistening cunt, once again looking up at you to make sure you’re okay with what he’s going to do. His head delves between your thighs when you let him know it’s okay, and you can’t help but to toss your head back when his lips attach around your clit.

You cry out, toes curling at the electricity sending shockwaves through your body immediately. When you manage to focus long enough to glance down, Duncan’s staring up at you intently, watching your facial expressions while he goes down on you. You’ve never even had anyone go down on you, much less a man as experienced as Duncan. His tongue curls around your bud while he alternates between sucking and drawing shapes. When Duncan’s fingers slip into your already soaking pussy, you have to throw a hand over your mouth to stifle the yell of his name. Stars explode across your vision as Duncan bites down on your clit, sending you hurtling off the edge and into your orgasm. You chant his name like a prayer, toes curling while you shake around him.

Duncan has to hold you up when you come down from your high, eyes unfocused and breathing erratically. He coos in your ear the entire time, telling you how you’re such a good girl for him and how you taste so sweet. You’ve barely recovered from the intensity of your orgasm before you’re reaching for his belt, leaning up to kiss the taste of yourself off of his mouth.

“You sure you can handle it?” Duncan looks at you in concern. One orgasm and you already look utterly fucked out which, while it’s certainly a pretty sight, he doesn’t want you to overdo it.

“Please Duncan, I need you inside me.” You whimper, fingers shaking too much to properly unbuckle his belt.

Duncan’s hands cover yours while he removes his belt for you, easily sliding his slacks down his legs and unbuttoning his shirt. He’s painfully hard against his briefs, and precum has caused a small spot to form on the front of them. You don’t even realize your hand darts out to grip his erection until Duncan hisses from the squeeze you give it. When he finally frees his cock, you stare in awe. Although not the longest you’ve ever seen, he’s incredibly thick, and the prominent vein on the side makes your mouth water.

“Are you ready?” Duncan asks. You nod, and huff out a groan when he still doesn’t move.

“Yes, I’m ready.” He’s satisfied at your answer, and kisses you deeply before pulling away.

Duncan pulls you to the very edge of the desk, placing one hand on your hip while he gives his cock a couple of quick strokes. He lines himself up with your entrance before pushing in slowly. You groan as he goes as slow as he possibly can, but you can tell it’s taking all that he has to keep from slamming himself into you. When he finally bottoms out, the unfamiliar fullness of it all has you sobbing. Tears run down your face, and Duncan looks bewildered for a moment. Until he hears your moans mixed in, he thought he had hurt you. The self-satisfactory smirk that appears on his face upon knowing that he’s made you feel something you’ve never felt before is stifled as he bites his lip, pulling you against his chest and whispering in your ear.

“You’re doing so good, baby girl. Don’t worry, I’ll be right here. I won’t move until you’re absolutely ready.” It doesn’t take too long for your sobs to quiet to soft whimpers, and for you to pull your head away from his chest and nod.

“Move, please.” You request.

Duncan doesn’t need to be told twice, pulling all the way out before thrusting right back in. You’re tight, tighter than he’s experienced in a long while, and he can already feel the familiar tendrils of an orgasm starting to form. Although the pace he sets is fast, his thrusts are still gentle while he makes sure that your needs are being met too. Your mouth is open as moans try to form, but you’re so out of breath that they only come out as gasps. No words are spoken for a few minutes, the office being filled instead with the sound of skin slapping against skin and various noises of pleasure. The rhythm of Duncan’s thrusts is starting to become erratic as he nears his orgasm, and he can tell by the way that you’re clenching around him that you’re close, too.

“Please Daddy, I’m so close!” You both still after the words slip out of your mouth, eyes flying open as you stare at Duncan. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I don’t know where-”

You’re cut off by Duncan slamming back into you, the words filling him with a newfound vigor.

“Are you gonna cum for Daddy?” He growls, hair flopping in front of his eyes.

You can only nod, your moan stifled when Duncan holds his fingers up to your mouth and forces them in. You suck on them eagerly, eyelids fluttering while you groan around his thick digits. He pulls them out of your mouth and pressing them harshly against your clit. The tears have started up again by now as the overstimulation starts to set in, and Duncan periodically licks them off of your face.

“Cum around Daddy’s cock, won’t you baby girl?” Duncan pleads.

The words send you over the edge for the second time, and your nails rake down Duncan’s back as you attempt to grasp onto anything to help ground you. You’re still twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, not even registering as Duncan pulls out of you and gently slides you off of the desk and onto your knees. It’s only when you feel the head of his cock against your lips that you look up at him, obediently opening your mouth for him. Duncan comes with a low groan, jerking himself off into your mouth. His salty cum fills your mouth, and there’s so much that a little bit manages to dribble onto your chin. You swallow anyways, wiping your hand across your mouth to collect anything else that dripped out.

Duncan falls onto the floor next to you, pulling you into his arms. Your naked bodies are both slick with sweat, and the cool air coming from the vents is a welcome relief. When your breathing’s normalized finally, Duncan grips your chin and has you look up at him. You smile tiredly, enjoying how dark his blue eyes have gotten.

“What do you say?” He asks you.

“...Thank you, Daddy.”

Tag List: @sebastianshoe @queencocoakimmie @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @let-me-try-mom @sammythankyou @pastel-cloudz @nana15774 @divinelangdon@lichellaw @sammythankyou @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58@dandycandy75 @alexcornerblog @everything-is-awesomesauce @khaleesimel@sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @langdonslove @heda-mikaelson @readsalot73@jimmlangdon @lvngdvns @wroteclassicaly @ccodyfern @venusxxlangdon @heylolitahey13 @langdonsdemon @divinelangdon @rocketgirl2410 @duncan-sojourn @michaelsapostle

#Duncan Shepherd #duncan shepherd smut #Older!Duncan #Duncan Shepherd imagine #Duncan Shepherd imagines #hoc #house of cards #Michael langdon #Michael Langdon imagine

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dynamesvirtue · 5 years ago

Text

False Light Ch.1

AFTER A MONTH and 2 days, Here is my first chapter of my Magnus fic, I hope you enjoy and any feedback would be appreciated!

7 months left

Tap tap tap. The sound of nail hitting against wood was heard quite loudly in the silent apartment. Dull and tired eyes stared idly at the blank word Doc on the screen. Her St Bernard Nana, laid close to her feet, yawning before putting his head down. Bailee had to choose her words wisely, those assholes were always watching. Deadlines due in six hours, and her leads on dethklok have fallen kinda of short. Online reports were the worst, it just made her procrastination that much easier. Luckily she only had to do this once or twice a month, being a reputable Dethklok reporter has its perks. She would rather be out there being the first one to get the scoop as she normally did. And her mysterious “manager” was extremely helpful with her success. In a way, Bailee sort of felt bad for the folks reading or watching her work. They had no clue what’s to come and the thought of that sort of excites her.

Leaning back on her desk chair, the tired girl looked at the few files that laid on her desk. Majority of them were mundane Dethklok shenanigans and leads she found out a few hours prior. One of them caught her eye was that Nathan was dating a fan. It was quite interesting after the whole NateBecca scandal, but this one really takes the cake. After digging into this Trindle girl, Bailee already knew this was going to be a mess. They’ve been only dating for a couple of days and she has a history of dating Nathan impersonators. She wonders if the poor boy knows anything about her obsession, and was surprised that Charles let someone that unstable so close to the band. How Hypocritical. After showing the would be article to Magnus, the two had a good laugh, with him stating Nathan always had a thing for crazy or insane girls. She just might go with this one.

The other file only had a couple of information on it. As Nathan is dating again, William Murderface started to take up smoking. Not entirely news worthy as the one prior, but has a bit more to go on. As the band is now known smokers besides cannabis, the Tobacco stocks and sales have risen and so has the number of first time smokers. Most of them range from early teens to late 40’s. Not entirely news worthy since the world doesn’t have that many years left anyways. Bailee never understood the appeal of smoking. It smells bad and tastes just as bad as well. Some of her so-called friends smoked all the time and she hated the smell. Her tired face made a small smile as she thought she was lucky Magnus was able to quit smoking long before he met her.

The third and last file she had wasn’t really for the public eye. Magnus and her were working on this together, but it's been a couple of months she heard anything from her “manager” or her usual insider friends. Though he remained calm about it, she knows the so-called “rumor” was eating the back of his mind. He waited this long to have something planned against Dethklok, what can waiting a little bit longer do? A small pout pulled at her lips as she felt like in a similar situation. Bailee could never understand how patient the Tribunal was with the whole prophecy thing. So close yet still out of their reach. She was ready for the chaos to happen with her and Magnus officially starting the shebang. But in order for this to work, She needs to have Magnus stay in the dark, just like his role as the “Man who stands behind shadows”.

Thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an alarm pinging. Looking at the clock of the screen she let out a groan. 5 more hours until it's due. “The sooner you finish it the quicker you’re done with it!” Magnus called from the living room. Soon after that he heard her reply with another groan. Nana barked in agreement. Eventually she decided to give the smoking article to Smokearooni Aficionado. Seemed like to fit their style and the extra bucks that came from that lead didn’t hurt either. Now that she’s finally picked a topic, Bailee went to typing.

A few days later..

“I can’t believe you didn’t want to come, it was totally epic!” Bailee exclaimed, waving her arms in excitement as Magnus grabbed her suitcase. “Bodies, everywhere! Blood, everywhere! They even found Trindle’s body among the mess HA! How easily death follows Dethklok!” The bitter man made an annoyed groan, slamming the trunk of the car rather hard as she continued her supposed rant. He always felt annoyed with her line of work. Dethklok this, Dethklok that. Yeah, it was the main source of their income, but knowing every move they made all the time just irritated him to no end. Though it was useful for future arrangements, it was just annoyance.

Bailee noticed his change in demeanor and stopped her ranting, though a grin was still plastered on her face. She felt like something was gonna change, and hopefully soon. Though it wasn't time to let Magnus know what was truly going on. "Let's get going.." She said, stretching her arm over her head. "I just wanna go home." She leaned onto Magnus who was standing next to her and wrapped her arms around his neck. All she wanted to do was relax and spend time she had left with Magnus. It could be hours before she was pulled into work again. Being a reporter for Dethklok was demanding, but someone had to do it. Just the thought of working again after flying back home made her pout and cling on to her boyfriend even tighter. Eyeing her pout, Magnus gave her a quick kiss on the head and rubbed her back. "Ok then.. let's get going." He said softly.

The ride home started off quiet. The airport was a bit away from home so the car ride was rather long. The two of them sat in comfortable silence as the radio played softly in the background. It was some rock station trying to promote new bands. Bailee watched idly as they passed by random buildings next to the freeway. Her hand twirling around her orange hair. While away she noticed her roots were coming back in. Maybe it was time to change her hair color again, though she had gotten used to the bright orange hair over the past month. The sound of Magnus' voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "What?" She said softly, clearly not hearing what he said. "I said, 'whatcha thinking about?'" He repeated, his eye still focused on the road. She hummed for a second before replying to him. "Nothing in particular..." she said. "Though.. I am curious." Magnus interrupted her with a scoff. "When are you not?" The reporter let out a laugh and playfully nudged his shoulder. "Whatever!" She smiled. "I was gonna ask, what do you do when I'm gone?" She tilted her head to the side, curious to see what his answer was. Magnus pressed his lips together toughly. What she doesn’t know is that he also has a trick up his sleeve. Someone reached out to him while Bailee was out on a different work trip. Though it was a brief meet and greet, that person also had mutual grudge against Dethklok. However he would only meet him while she was away. The man was not someone that Magnus wanted Bailee to be around with.

“Oh you know. Just lazy on about, ignoring Nana and getting wasted until you come home.” He joked, keeping his little secret in the back of his mind. Bailee arched her brows before laughing. “If I ever believed that, it would be pathetic. Plus You would never ignore Nana.” She said in between laughter. “So you think I would be pathetic?” He questioned, playfully pretending to be hurt. “Hmm a bit sad but not that pathetic.” She replied. With a grin still on her face, her hand stopped twirling, her played-with hair bounced lightly on her chest. Her eyes gave Magnus a sensual look. “So tell me what do you really do when I’m gone?” She said in a low voice. Oh he knows where she's going with this. Magnus bit the inside of his lip as he tried to focus on the road ahead of them. The exit they needed to take wasn't too far now. Though his thoughts were distracted as Bailee placed a hand on his thigh. “Well?” She questioned, waiting for a reply. Magnus shuddered as his girlfriend began to rub his thigh. Damn girl knew how to get him aroused. “C-Come on Bails.. This isn’t the time for that. Besides… You know I preferred if you watch.” He chuckled. His girlfriend gave a playful pout and placed her hand back in her lap. She gave a playful pout and placed her hand back in her lap. “Fiine I’ll let you win... for now.” She stuck out her pierced tongue at him.

After that the ride home was quite short. Once off the freeway it was only 15 minutes before they could reach the townhouse that they shared. Though as Magnus parked the car in the garage, they heard Nana barking like crazy. Bailee immediately glared at him. “What did you do to her?? Leave her on the leash again?!”

“What!? No of course not. I’m not that cruel.” He argued back. “Maybe she just saw a squirrel or something.” Bailee rolled her eyes and scoffed, rushing in the house. Magnus followed suit, but as the pair rushed through the door, they both immediately stopped in their tracks. The backyard door was shattered with a hole in it, a bloody trail leading to an even bloodier rock with what seemed like a note attached to it. Nana was still barking wildly from the opposite of the room. The baby barrier blocked her from entering the open kitchen and dining room. Both Magnus and Bailee were too scared to move, and were pale as a ghost, hoping the note wasn’t from someone they didn’t want the other to meet.

#metalocalypse #dethklok #magnus hammersmith #Bailee OC #also hey Bailee has a last name and a dog now XD #thanks metalocalypse discord

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sarifel-corrisafid-ilxhel · 6 years ago

Text

What if the Animorphs Did A Thing?

Apologies to @thejakeformerlyknownasprince for stealing their format for this idea.

It was Tobias who realized the possibilities first. Letting the Yeerks have the other Helmacron ship? No way. True, Tobias might have been the slightest bit angry because Visser Three held him hostage, but if the past few hours had taught him anything, it’s that shrink rays are more powerful than they seem.

“A Shrink Ray? Really?” Marco laughed. “Dude, this isn’t a cartoon.”

<No, but we’ve just spent all day at three millimeters tall, and we were helpless.> Tobias adjusted a feather. <I’m just saying that if Visser Three and the Hork-Bajir were three millimeters tall, they wouldn’t be a problem.>

It doesn’t take much more than that for everyone to agree that the shrink ray would be useful, or is at least too dangerous to let the Yeerks keep. They all start trying to figure out where it might have gone.

The last time anyone seen the Helmacron ship Galaxy Blaster, Chapman had been greedily shoving the thing into his suit pocket. That meant it could be at his house. Maybe it wasn’t, but maybe it was. It was worth a look.

Sneaking into Chapman’s house wasn’t as hard as it should have been. Many defenses had been put on the ground floor and in the basement since their visit many months ago, to be sure, but Melissa had left her bedroom window open that night. Maybe she was waiting for some unknown visitor, or maybe she was taking advantage of the cool breeze blowing into her room. Either way, an owl covered in fleas didn’t bother her as she slept. She never heard a thing.

While Ax led the others down, dodging Yeerk sensors as they went, Cassie and Rachel snuck into Chapman’s bedroom as a rat and a squirrel. Just in case. They were supposed to keep an eye on Chapman and his wife.

Rachel was the one who noticed it. Chapman had simply fallen onto his bed and fallen asleep. She’d seen this with her father Dan after a long day, and she’d done it herself after a couple of missions. The odds that Chapman had stopped to do anything before falling asleep were slim. Cassie and Rachel split up to look for his jacket.

Cassie found it in the clothes hamper. It took some digging, but a squirrel’s paws are quick. In no time she’d dug the Galaxy Blaster out, and the two girls headed to retrieve the guys from what sounded like a terrifying ordeal of evading automated Dracon fire and electrical traps.

Ax wasn’t sure if he could make the Galaxy Blaster able to fly again. That didn’t matter, according to Tobias. All they needed was the shrink ray. If Ax could somehow get that working again, they could shrink or grow things at will.

“Attack of the 40-Foot Hawk,” Marco chimed. “Like one of those Godzilla movies. Oh man. Could you imagine it? Visser Three turns into the Monster of the Week, then you just swoop down and grab him and-”

Ax interjected.<A bird that large would not have the correct proportions to sustain lift.> A collective groan of disappointment goes around the group.

The biggest problem with fixing the ship is the extremely tiny controls in the bridge. Ax’s fingers just weren’t nimble enough to manipulate them in the sequence Marco remembers, even with tweezers and the most absurd looking magnifying eyepiece anyone has ever seen. Ax assured the others it can provide magnifications far beyond what a normal Human magnifying glass provides. Tobias noted the eyepiece appeared to be a piece of a microscope that Ax ripped of and strapped a headband to. Ax didn’t confirm or deny this.

When Ax finally admitted defeat, the Chee were happy to help. The mechanical precision of their fingers, along with their vast knowledge, lets them get the Galaxy Blaster back to working condition in a few hours. Bonus, with some coaxing, Erek agreed to make it easy for the others to use as well. A shrink ray, it seems, just barely skirts the Chee non-violence directive.

So they put a handle on it. And a trigger. Really, they just strap the Galaxy Blaster to part of a broken watergun, giving them a proper shrink ray pistol that looks as silly as it is. Thanks to Erek’s work, it was simple to use. One button causes a 2x reduction in size with each trigger pull. The other button causes a 2x increase in size with each trigger pull. Erek made the Animorphs swear they would not use it for violence.

The next raid on the Yeerk Pool, the Animorphs all go in combat morphs. Ax wields the shrink ray.

The first wave of Controllers to run at them are reduced to 3 inches tall in a moment. They quickly scampered away to avoid being crushed by the Animorphs.

The second wave of Controllers didn’t fare any better.

The third wave decided that fighting at close range wasn’t a good idea when their enemy had a shrink ray. Unfortunately for them, Ax is exceptionally accurate, and he managed to hit them with ease even as he dodged Dracon fire. The third wave were shrunk down in no time at all.

The shrunken Controllers who have Dracon beams were horrified to find out their weapons are much less effective at this size. The Animorphs shrugged off numerous hits without issue.

Visser Three arrived, as he always does, in style. He dropped in from the ceiling in some horrific bat-monster morph. No one paid attention to the name of the planet he acquired it on. A shame, he was quite proud of that trip. He had been the only one to survive. Moments later, he was no larger than a little brown bat, and Tobias easily caught the Visser in his talons.

The Yeerks didn’t really seem to have an answer for what is happening. In all the chaos, they tried everything they could think of. None of it worked.

Someone manages to take off in a Bug Fighter, but before they can turn the weapons onto Ax, the Bug Fighter is reduced to the size of a toy car. Tobias knocked it out of the air with ease.

The Hork-Bajir tried again and again even after being Shrunk, but their tiny blades do nothing, and Jake is almost amused at how easily he batted them all away, like a cat with a favorite toy.

The Taxxons awere too distracted trying to catch all of the tiny Controllers to put up any meaningful resistance. But innocent people might get hurt by a hungry Taxxon chasing them down. At Cassie’s urging, they too were shrunk before they could eat too many people.

Maybe thirty minutes after the Animorphs arrived, the Yeerk Pool’s primary defenses had all been dealt with.

Visser Three refused to accept defeat initially. He demorphed and remorphed again and again, but at three inches tall, even his largest and most powerful morphs are useless.

Eventually, he realized the Animorphs have won. He began trying to negotiate, offering as little as he can at first. He knows where Elfangor’s human son was and could take the Animorphs to him.

This came as a shock to some of the Animorphs- They weren’t aware Elfangor had a Human son. However, they put two and two together about the Yeerk interest in Tobias a few days ago and promptly resolved that he has some explaining to do when this is all over.

The Animorphs decided that the small offers Visser Three made aren’t enough. They had, unexpectedly, won. The entire Yeerk Pool was theirs. Visser Three, now in a pickle jar with holes in the lid, was theirs. They decided to tell the world, to end the invasion once and for all.

The Chee arrived and helped with catching and sorting out the shrunken Controllers. And then, strangely, Mr. Tidwell- a late arrival to the battle- began to help too.

The Yeerk Peace Movement are bewildered by this turn of events, and the Animorphs are bewildered by the existence of the Yeerk Peace Movement. Aftran 942 is brought up from the depths of the Yeerk Pool to explain. Cassie began working on a plan for dealing with the Yeerks.

The Yeerks were returned to full size after they left their hosts, and then they were quickly moved into the pool before their now-free hosts could try to hurt them. Esplin 9466 remained in the pickle jar even after he was returned to normal size.

A bewildered Alloran took all of five minutes to recover before he began to demand to know where the Andalite fleet was and how many Andalites had arrived to help. When he was told the truth, he made several loud noises of shock and despair. Then he asked if he could see the shrink ray. Marco told him it would violate the Prime Directive to share such technology with a species as primitive as the Andalites. Ax ‘accidentally’ smacked Marco in the back of the head for calling Andalites primitive.

After some time, the Free Hork-Bajir were alerted by Tobias and arrived to take care of the now-free Hork-Bajir. The Taxxons- a wildcard even once they are free- surprisingly united around a strange Taxxon that goes by the name of Arbron.

The Chee covered for the Animorphs when the Animorphs decided to set up a temporary base of operations within the Yeerk Pool.

It became clear within an hour that the people who beat the Yeerks were mostly just Human teenagers. It didn’t matter. The Yeerks didn’t have anything that could stop or resist the shrink ray.

As more Controllers wandered in for their bi-weekly feedings, they were caught by the various forces that now control the place. The situation is explained to them, and they’re given a choice.

The few that resisted were tied up and left in the many sheds on the periphery to wait the few hours it will take for the Yeerks to starve. The Yeerks that surrender are thrown into the pool without ceremony and their hosts set free.

Once some of the Human-Controllers who serve in the police and military were free, they quickly went to get the proper authorities. Marco went up to meet the police as they arrive and escorted them down into the facility. Within a few hours of Visser Three’s surrender, the Media arrived. Within a day, the world knew all about the invasion. The remaining Controllers on the surface tried to stay away for as long as they can, but eventually, they too surrender.

Vissers in other Yeerk facilities on Earth quickly ordered the ships in orbit to open fire on the Yeerk Pool, to end this debacle before it could get any worse. The ships in orbit refused. Some landed and surrendered. Others fled to the safety of the Yeerk Empire.

The general surrender begins extending to the other Yeerk facilities as well. Law enforcement and military forces begin arriving and taking control. In some cases, the fights were bloody. In others, the Yeerks surrendered without firing a shot.

Jake didn’t feel any qualms about snatching the slug that slithered out of Tom’s ear and throwing it as hard as he could. He didn’t know if the slug made it into the Pool or splatted against the ground on the other side. He didn’t care.

Visser One arrived a few months later with a full war-fleet. Somehow Visser Three had screwed things up, but Earth was still vital to the Yeerk Empire. It didn’t matter if the Humans now had access to Yeerk technology. A full fleet, led by the fearsome Nova-class Empire Ship, could easily retake the planet.

A lone Blade Ship, since repainted in the style of a Human naval vessel, flew up to meet the Yeerk fleet. It transmitted a single message: Surrender immediately or be shrunk.

Visser One laughed. Shrunk? That’s ridiculous! There’s no way they could possibly be serious, the Humans didn’t have that kind of technology, and even if they did, it wouldn’t be useful- And then the Visser realized something was very, very wrong. A strange beam projected by the Blade Ship hit each ship in the Yeerk fleet, one after the other. One by one, each ship in the Yeerk fleet vanished from optical sensors. Communications with each ship indicated they were all alive, all intact, but surprisingly, unbelievably, they had all been shrunk. Visser One was left with a choice. Take her tiny, useless fleet back to the Yeerk Empire, or surrender.

With a pounding migraine reinforced by Eva’s cheers, Visser One surrendered.

#Animorphs #Helmacrons #Yeerks #Chee #What If?#Visser One #Visser Three #Ax #Outside Context problem #Fanfiction #Long post #Jake #Tobias #Rachel #Cassie #Marco #Erek King

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omyeol · 7 years ago

Text

three words - ii

(cr. to owner, gif is not mine)

word count: 3,511

genre: fluff, angst

warning: sexual content

At 8.30 in the morning, you sauntered in casually to your office, making your way out of the elevator with springs on your step, your bag filled with your external hard disk, notebook, and other stuff you never bothered to take out in one hand and a tall cup of hot latte from the coffee shop down the street. Being 40 minutes early, the office was still rather empty, apart from your team leader (Junmyeon) who liked to come at least an hour earlier because he liked to have a cat nap before he started working, and some guys from the marketing team.

As much as you liked working from home and in-between finishing your Masters, you had to admit that you missed working at the office too, sitting in your cubicle and brainstorming with your team throughout the day. You missed the ambience, the vending machine in the pantry that kept breaking down, and of course, your desk.

Your desk still looked like how it did when you stopped by the office to have a team meeting two weeks ago. Post-its tagged with deadline dates, design ideas, meeting dates, and even day-to-day reminder (such as grocery list or reminder to call Baekhyun) were still stuck on the divider of your cubicle. Nothing seemed out of place, apart from the bouquet of flowers on top of your keyboard.

Congratulations on finishing your Masters!!

We’re sooo excited to have you back at the office again!

Somin, Jongin, Sehun, & Junmyeon

A smile bloomed on your face at the sprawly, familiar handwriting (you knew it’s Somin’s), feeling warmth at the sweet gesture. You placed your cup of coffee gently on your desk, strategically placing it near your keyboard, and looked around to check if Junmyeon was already awake. You were planning to thank him for the flowers, but decided to do it later when he was awake.

The trio arrived much later than you expected. Somin was the first one to show up, just about ten minutes before nine with her usual dose of caffeine. As if she hadn’t seen you in so long (when you both actually had dinner together a few days ago), she greeted you with a hug and bright smile. In her usual Somin’s nature, she chatted your ear off as you both waited for Jongin and Sehun, who ended up being five minutes late. Since it was already past 9, you didn’t have any time to have a proper chat with them before Junmyeon (who was already wide awake and full of smile) called the four of you for a team meeting.

(Although as usual, the team meeting was spent with Junmyeon talking your ears off about the some new client you got and your own job descriptions, and Jongin pitching design ideas here and there.)

“Unnie, should we go get lunch together?” You looked up from your computer where you were typing up a proposal for next week’s meeting and saw Somin sticking her head over the divider of your cubicle and cracking a bright smile at you.

“Sure,” you breathed out as you leaned back against the back of you swivel chair. “What should we have-”

“Let’s have some jjajangmyeon.” One of the two men, Jongin spoke, poking his head over the divider as well before you could even ask Somin. “It’s been so long since I have jjajangmyeon for lunch.”

“You had it for lunch last Friday,” Somin quipped with a sigh. “I thought we’re only having jjajangmyeon on Fridays.” You looked back and forth between Sehun and Somin who were already in a debate. Waiting for the two to finish their debate, you fished your phone out of the bag and checked if there was any new messages.

There was one, from Baekhyun.

Have fun on your first day back at the office! I’ll see you tonight at home!

Along with the text, he also sent a picture of him smiling, his eyes crinkling at the side. In the picture, he was already wearing his sky blue scrubs and white coat as always, looking charismatic in his work clothes. You rarely saw him wearing his scrubs, but when you saw him in it, you always admired it because Baekhyun always looked so different than the Baekhyun you saw at home. The Baekhyun you saw at home usually walked around his pajamas with his messy bed hair that he never bothered to comb and his round-framed glasses that gave him a boyish charm. Meanwhile Doctor Byun Baekhyun wore scrubs, his eyes were always watching everything in alert, and his feet were quick to move. It was a sight that you rarely saw yet you loved it so much.

Thank you. See you at home!

Exchanging text like this felt so weirdly domestic and slightly romantic, which caused your head to send another warning sign for you. And for the nth time, you ignored that warning sign, telling yourself that this was also what friends would usually do.

“Noona, let’s have lunch.” Looking up from your phone, Sehun was already standing and leaning by your desk with his arms crossed over his chest. “We’re having pasta.” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“I actually thought we’re having jjajangmyeon,” you spoke casually as you rose up from your seat, slipping your phone into your blazer pocket and grabbing your bag with you.

“I told them it’s your first day back so we should celebrate a little bit.” One of these days, you should really treat him coffee or some pastry for his good deed. When you were still busy with trying to graduate, Sehun had kindly taken a bit of your work load off. He’d gone as far as helping you with whatever proposal you made for client meeting. Even though it was not in his job description to do so, but he did it anyway before forwarding it to Junmyeon.

“What’s new at the office?” You asked as the four of you headed to the elevator, most people had gone out for lunch and only a few stayed at the workspace.

“Junmyeon-hyung is dating someone. We don’t know who it is, but he definitely is because now he rarely stays late at the office. That one time he even counted the minute until we were done for the day.” You couldn’t help but let out a gasp at the news. Your team leader was one of the most passionate people at the office who took his job very seriously and was pretty much married to it. Jongin and Sehun had tried as far as setting him up with someone they knew, but that didn’t work out.

“My guess would be someone he met at his high school reunion last month.”

So, the rest of your lunch hour was spent in making guesses of who your team leader was possibly dating, and also the other three giving you updates about other news around the office–like the two foreign interns (they were an international students) but they had the outstanding social skills to fit in with the others in a span of two weeks, or the news where Minseok kept losing his lunch for a week straight and the culprit hadn’t been caught until recently. Hearing all these news made you feel glad that your team had helped you to not lose your position at the office while you were studying for Masters. The thing was, you didn’t know what you would do if you had to quit and move to another company.

When you came back from lunch, there was a new bouquet of flowers sitting on your desk. Looking around the office, everyone who was already back, minding their own business and not even one of them looked suspicious enough to send you the flowers. Placing your bag on the floor, you grabbed the bouquet and checked if there was a card.

There was, and the message was handwritten, in a handwriting that looked familiar to you.

Have fun at your first day back at the office!

I was planning to drive you to the office this morning and all that jazz, but I got the morning shift :(

But don’t worry I’ll be home later when you get home and we’ll have tteokbokki while you talk about your first day back.

Enjoy your day! Don’t think about me too much :)

Love,

BBH

The words written on the card made tears well up on the corner of your eyes, you even had to shut your eyes and take a few deep breaths to keep your composure. The flowers and the gesture felt so much like he was yours to have; like this was just a thing he did just because he felt like it. Opening your eyes, your eyes read the card once more, this time noticing how Baekhyun actually went to a florist, ordered the flowers for you, and wrote the card himself.

Why is he doing this, you questioned yourself, why is he making things really hard for me than it already was?

“Whoa, another flowers bouquet. Who is it from?” Somin, Jongin, and Sehun huddled around you; Somin grabbing the flowers and smelling it while the guys were reading the card you had in hand over your shoulders.

“BBH,” Jongin read out loud, and then let out a gasp. “Whoa, noona. You’re not the only who’s dating someone.” You turned your head and saw Jongin wiggling his eyebrows playfully at you.

“We’re not dating,” you clarified quickly. “He’s just a friend. We’re friends.” The word ‘friends’ felt awfully bitter in your mouth. The realization that you and Baekhyun were just friends caused your stomach to twist painfully. All this time, you made it seem like it was just all in your head, like being just friends was just another attempt of your heart to shield yourself from a heartache. But now you finally said the words out loud, it felt like it became real. Much too real for you to realize. If your heart thought it was just shielding yourself from a heartache, it was no use. It was too late. You already got your heart aching since the first time you said yes to Baekhyun’s offer to play house.

Friday nights were mostly spent lounging around on the couch with some shows playing on TV or trying your best to get some work done (you were unusually motivated and productive). You didn’t usually bring your work home, but when the deadline was approaching and you still weren’t satisfied with the one you worked on at the office, you had no choice but made some edits at home. Besides, it wasn’t like you could be distracted easily.

Well, that was if Baekhyun wasn’t home, though. If he was, it was another story.

That’s why you didn’t know how you both could end up in such a compromising position. First, Baekhyun was keeping you company until you finished your work, and the next thing you knew he was kissing you and pulling you to sit on his lap. But you were pretty sure the empty bottle of wine on the coffee table was the one you could blame for this. Frankly, you didn’t feel slightly guilty about this. Besides, the moan that came out of his mouth when you tugged the hair on his nape was like music to your ears. It didn’t make you want to stop. Instead, it spurred you on even more.

With a surge of confidence flowing in your stream, you shifted on his lap and pulled away from his lips, moving your lips to press chaste kisses on his cheek and jaw. Just when you thought you had the control, it changed and every thought you had about this situation just floated to the thin air as Baekhyun used that moment to suck on a certain spot on your collarbone that got you to let out the first moan in the evening and he moved his cold hands to your thighs. You shut your eyes and tried to hold back your moan, but you couldn’t since his hands were inching closer and closer to where you needed him the most.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” he spoke as he pulled way a bit to look at the masterpiece he had created on your collarbone. You had a thought that a few bruises had probably shown and clearly it’s way too late to warn or stop him altogether.

“How could I not?” You muttered and tugged at his hair again, pulling his head back from your neck to look at his eyes. His eyes were a bit darker than it was before and it was good enough to calm your brain. There was also a mischievous glint in his eyes and a cheeky smile across his face that made your heart skip a beat. “Your lips are amazing. Dunno if it’s a blessing or curse.”

His eyes widened a bit and he looked at you like you were crazy before shaking his head faintly, “you are so drunk.”

“Well it’s ‘cause of you,” you retorted and he chuckled. “Don’t be so flattered. You brought that wine when you know I’m at my weakest. So don’t judge me.”

“What do you want me to do, then?” he murmured before leaning in and trailing kisses from your jaw to your neck again. His lips really felt amazing against your skin and you didn’t ever want him to stop. It had been too long since you both did this, and you wondered how the hell you lasted a month without feeling his lips against your skin like this.

“Want me to stop?” His hands moved up, up, and up, showing off your thighs even more as he sucked on a spot on your neck that got your breath hitched. You didn’t have the chance to answer his question since he’s already pulling back a bit to take off your dress shirt, leaving you only in your bra and panties. The feeling of his hands on you made you move your hands down, trailing it to his chest, to feel his heartbeat against your hands.

He placed his hand on your hip, squeezing a bit while he used his other hand to playfully tug on your panties. His lips still did wonders and sucked softly on the previous spot he made as he pushed your panties aside and trailed one of his fingers on your slit. You moaned.

“Seems like you don’t want me to stop,” he teased as he inserted a finger into your core and thrust shallowly a few times. “So wet for me.” You groaned and shifted your hips a bit, wanting more than only one of his fingers because it just wasn’t enough.

Baekhyun was blessed with such beautiful fingers that could do wonders. He could play piano well, and he was good at driving you crazy with those fingers too. Before this arrangement happened, sometimes you couldn’t help but think about what those fingers could do and the damage it could’ve caused a lot on you. But now that you had had a taste of it (literally and figuratively), you couldn’t have enough of it.

“Baek,” you panted above him. He pulled out his finger and now thrust two fingers into your core, his thumb circling your clit. He went deeper and found the spot that got you moaning his name so loud. He chuckled. “Please,” you moaned again as you arched your back from pleasure, pushing your chest flush against his. He trailed his hand up from your hip to your back, tracing your back gently and eliciting shivers down your spine.

“Please what, hmm?” he urged as he kept on thrusting his fingers in and out of you slowly, hitting that spot again and moving his thumb away from your clit. While you were so preoccupied with the knot forming inside of you, he used his free hand to unclasp your bra and help you take it off, throwing it somewhere across the room when he’s done.

“Please just – oh,” your words failed you as he used that moment to pinch your hardening nipple and his mouth moved to suck on my other nipple. That delicious feeling caused you to squirm on his lap, grinding over his hardening crotch subconsciously and you were getting so much closer to the edge. Maybe it would only take a few more thrust of his fingers and another pinch or two before you reached your climax.

“What was that, babe?” He stilled his fingers in you and pulled back a little to take a good look of you, his intense gaze glued on your face. His gaze on you are glazed, pupils dilating with lust swirling in it and his lips were red and swollen from all the kissing you had done earlier. He looked so delicious it made you want to let him do anything he wanted to do to you all night.

“Just,” you gasped and shut your eyes tightly, mouth gaped open as he curled his fingers on the spot that made you tremble. Your hands shook and you had to curl and uncurl your fist a couple times as you dropped your head onto his shoulder. “Just fuck me,” you murmured against his neck.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” He trailed his hand up to your shoulder and pulled you back from his neck. Your brain was cloudy, your gaze was hazy, and you felt unsteady as he squeezed your shoulder gently, trying to keep your eyes focus on him. “I’ll fuck you, okay? I’ll fuck you until you can feel me for days.” Baekhyun was filthy and the fact that he kept his eyes on you as the words slithered out of his pretty mouth made you clench against his fingers.

The way he blinked his eyes in fake innocence and his lips spread in a mischievous smile made you want to curse at him. “You know I’ll always take care of you.” Feeling you clench against him, he curled his fingers on that spot, causing your eyes to roll back and drop your head on his shoulder again.

Baekhyun moved his hand from your shoulder to your thigh, feeling it tremble against his hand. The knot in your stomach was tightening and you knew you were tethering at the edge. “But I need you to come for me first, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes,” you sobbed against his shoulder and turned your head to press your lips against his neck, where a layer of sweat coating it.

He leaned his head forward a bit and let the mouth graze against your ear, his thumb now rubbing fast and hard against your clit. “Good girl.” Shocked at how sensual those words sound with his low voice, your hips jerked up and you came undone over Baekhyun’s hand, letting out a loud cry. “That’s it. Let go. Let go for me.” He helped you ride out your orgasm, his fingers still slowly thrusting into your core and his thumb rubbing against your overstimulated clit. You were still shaking and holding on to him tightly as he pulled his fingers out of core, feeling empty and overwhelmed from the shock of the orgasm.

You clung to him and breathed against his neck as he grabbed a few tissues from the end table and wiped his fingers with it. His other hand caressed your back softly, helping you to calm down and steady yourself. “Hey,” he murmured against your ear and pulled back from the embrace, his cleaned hand now holding onto your cheek. The way his fingertips graze your cheek softly pulled you back to the moment.

You opened your eyes and blinked it a few times, realizing that he was already staring at you with a fond look and a soft smile across his face, like he wasn’t just sputtering out filthy words a few minutes earlier. The way he looked at you after he did this sometimes led you to believe if he did this because he really loved you, not because of the lust he felt in the moment. It mislead you way too many times into feeling like you two weren’t only lovers for a few moment, but for a lifetime. It was easy to get lost in the moment and pretend that the arrangement never happened in the first place, and it happened because what you both really felt for each other.

“You okay now?” You nodded and cleared your throat, still not trusting yourself to speak just yet. Scared that if you opened your mouth, you’d be asking him the question that you didn’t want to know the answer just yet. “Let’s move to the bedroom, yeah?” You didn’t have any energy left in you as you nodded again and let Baekhyun wrap your legs around his waist tightly and rise up from the couch, carrying you into his bedroom to be lost in the pleasure once more.

#baekhyun angst #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun scenario #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo scenario #baekhyun smut #exo smut #i'm definitely going to hell #also this is the first smut scene i've ever completed writing #so yeah #three words

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antiquechampagne · 6 years ago

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Chapter 27 - Home Again

Dahlia stood in front of the bathroom mirror, her wet hair wrapped in a towel on the top of her head. She examined her face, searching for any new red patches or bruises she might have to cover for the day. Luckily, since the autumn had cooled off a blazing Nevada summer, she could easily hide the blemishes under a light long sleeve sweater and slacks. She opened the drawer full of makeup and began to lay the foundation thickly on her sickly pale cheeks and forehead.

She had been getting up early for months now. Her mom had started noticing the change in her normally nocturnal daughter. According to her friends at the ranch, her mom thought her new early morning routine was for a new boyfriend.

Let her think that. Dahlia thought. She’s been so upbeat lately, thinking I am primping for someone. Let her be happy for a bit. She deserves it.

While staring intently at her face applying blush in the mirror, the red of the compact momentarily became a bright splash of blood on the dripping down the shower curtain. Dahlia’s breath caught in her throat and her heart raced, throwing dark spots in front of her eyes. Looking again, she realized the trick her eyes had played on her. It had almost been a year, and she still had flashes of finding Aden. She wished secretly they had ripped the damn shower out, replacing it with anything else… but her mother was right. They didn’t have the money to replace the bathroom. So she forced herself to use it, to stand where he had ended his life. She returned to the job at hand, she had to keep up appearances.

With a satisfied sigh, she finished putting the few final touches on her makeup mask. Pulling the towel down, damp dark curls fell to past her shoulders. She hoped that after today she would be lucky and keep her hair. Her mom could sniff out a wig at 40 paces, there would be no hiding the fact she was sick from her then.

The ringing phone broke through the predawn stillness. She could barely make out her mother’s voice answering it across the hall as she tossed her hair in the towel. She certainly heard the cursing more clearly after the receiver hit its cradle with a plastic crack.

“That son-of-a-BITCH!” her mother roared. “Why does he think the Wild Rose is her personal freaking punching bag?”

“What’s wrong, mom?” Dahlia asked through the closed door.

“The inspector is up at the ranch again, basically trying to break down the door trying to get in!”

“Didn’t we just have inspections like… 2 months ago?”

“We sure did. I bet Mr. House sent a few new boys down to try and dig up some dirt on us.”

“But we passed!”

“My guess is now they are just making shit up. House just can’t stand that we aren’t under his thumb and we don’t treat our people like a bunch of robots.” Her voice was right outside the door. “I know you like to take your time in here, Dahl, but could you hurry it up? I need to get down to the ranch as soon as I can.”

Dahlia finished as quickly as she could, giving herself another once over before leaving the bathroom and slipping down the claustrophobic hall to the kitchen. As she nibbled on a piece of toast, her mother finished and joined her.

“I wish you could come with me. If they sent Dennis, this might be over quick enough that we can reopen before the after lunch rush shows up.”

“Sorry mom, but this appointment can’t be rescheduled.”

“Dentist, right?” her mom asked between sips of scalding hot coffee.

“Yeah... something like that.” Dahlia hated lying to her mom, so she took the opportunity to throw her half eaten toast in the trash and wash up her plate.

“I like that sweater. Are you feeling okay? My real daughter wouldn’t be caught dead in anything brighter than a navy!” She loved to rib her about her favorite color, always blamed Dahlia’s love of black on her being born on Halloween. “But seriously, the purple brings out your eyes nicely.” Her mom popped a slice of apple in her mouth.

“Do you think you’ll be done by lunch?” she asked between bites.

“Maybe. As soon as I am done, I’ll stop by work… we can play it by ear after that.” Dahlia half smiled. She hoped she wouldn’t feel too tired to join her. “Don’t forget to stop by the Super-Duper Mart and see if they have lemons yet. I haven’t seen any for a few weeks now.”

“Are you worried that this year you won’t get your favorite birthday cake?”

“You always make me lemon cake! We can’t break the tradition! And don’t gripe on how hard it is to make and you always have to make it alone… you refuse to share the recipe, so I can’t even offer to help!”

Her mom chuckled, then glanced at the clock on the wall. “Shit!” she spat. “I got to go. Can you take care of this for me?” She handed her daughter her coffee.

Dahlia nodded as her mom gave her a peck on the cheek and sped out the door.

“Have fun at your dentist appointment!” she called as the door shut behind her.

Dahlia slowly puttered around the kitchen. She debated on catching a quick nap before calling a cab, but decided against it. She couldn’t risk oversleeping. Not today.

She grabbed the hospital’s preadmission paperwork hidden in her desk drawer. She had filled it out a week ago, but she went over everything again. As she waited on the couch for the cab to arrive, her nerves started to get to her. She leafed through the pamphlets and things her oncologist had given her. Medical terms made about as much sense to her as astral physics, but she had grown familiar with a few terms. Her fingers traced the title of the bright blue letters on the top pamphlet, full of fake smiling faces and bright obnoxious colors.

SO YOU HAVE LEUKEMIA!

“Fuck this.” She threw the pile on the coffee table, spilling them sloppily onto the floor. It took a moment to compose herself enough to get down on her knees to gather them all back up.

Right then she heard the cab honk from outside. “Seriously…” she grumbled. By the second honk she was out the front door.

“Las Vegas Cancer Center, please.” She gave the address to the driver. Even though they hit a bit of the morning commute traffic, she was nearly a half an hour early to her appointment.

The waiting room was comfortable enough. Dahlia counted herself lucky the office staff had not had a chance turned on the television yet. She was sick of all the news coverage. It was exhausting to keep up with it all; she simple did not have the brain capacity to try.

She tried to distract herself by reading an old magazine, but found her mind wandering to her last visit. Her doctor had informed her about an experimental treatment. They were sure was perfect fit to fix her malfunctioning blood cells. Dahlia had a hard time keeping up with all of it, but she knew it involved injecting radioactive…something… directly into her bone marrow. Was it supposed to kill the cells… or was it boost them? She couldn’t remember. She did remember the doctor telling her she would be sedated for the procedure and she might feel tired and nauseous afterwards.

Welcome to my life! That’s how I feel all the time! She chided to herself.

She couldn’t believe it was only six months ago that she had collapsed on stage during rehearsal. Luckily, her mother wasn’t there that night. Her friends had rushed her to the hospital where she was poked and prodded, then unceremoniously sent home. It wasn’t until a week or so later that she got the results in the mail, that stupid pamphlet with the smiling idiots on the front, and a referral to an oncologist. The rest was a whirlwind of test and doctors, all while trying to hide her deteriorating health from her mom. At least it would be all over soon… at least she hoped so.

“Dahlia Mansfield?” a man in a lab coat called. He introduced himself as Dr. Patterson, an assistant to her doctor, Dr. Zheng. She followed him back to an exam room. He took her paperwork and asked her the same questions over again, as if she was taking some kind of medical memory test. He then left her in the room to change into a hospital gown.

Nudity was nothing new to Dahlia. She had grown up around all kinds, given she spent so much time with her mom as she worked to keep the Wild Rose Ranch operating smoothly. She even partook in a bit of the burlesque aspects of performing once she was old enough, but sitting nearly naked wrapped in only a paper thin wrap on the cold examining table was disconcerting.

Dr. Patterson returned with a wheel chair.

“Is that really necessary?” Dahlia asked.

“It’s hospital policy. Plus it is a bit of a walk to the procedure room.” As she sat down, her gown opened slightly, exposing her cleavage as the man looked down to adjust something with the foot rests. “You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I don’t think so.”

As he pushed her through the seemingly never ending corridors, he kept probing her with questions. Dahlia was in no mood to converse, so she kept her answers short and terse. Finally they arrived at the procedure room. Dahlia got up from the wheelchair, being careful to keep the gown in place. Something about her pose jogged the man’s memory.

“Now I remember!” He blurted. “That cat house off the strip… the Wild... something. I’m sure I saw you dance there!” He seemed a bit too eager. “What was your name?”

Dahlia just stood, arms crossed, and glowered at him until it finally dawned on him that asking a nearly naked woman at the hospital for an experimental medical procedure probably wasn’t the best time to ask if she took her clothes off for money.

“The doctor should be here in a few minutes.” He said sheepishly as he left the room. From the other side of the door, Dahlia could hear him finally remember her stage name. Champagne.

It was nearly another half an hour before the door opened again. Dr. Zheng greeted her with a firm handshake. As she sat listening to Dr. Zheng explain the procedure with her authoritative voice droning on, the scent of roses distracted Dahlia. Dr. Zheng’s perfume triggered a buried memory of sitting on her grandmother’s lap and listening to music. She found herself lost in the remembrance of it.

“Are you ready to proceed?”

Dahlia snapped her attention back to the woman sitting in front of her. “Yes.”

The doctor guided her to what looked like a recliner with extra-long arm and foot rests, covered with paper. Dahlia sat.

“The technicians will be in momentarily to get the IV started and prep for the procedure.”

Soon a handful of nurses appeared, pushing carts covered with blue cloths. One pushed her cart up on Dahlia’s left side.

“I’m going to start your IV. Are you squeamish around needles?” Dahlia shook her head no. “Okay, that’s good. Would you like me to turn on the TV for you or open the blinds? The view is pretty nice from up here. You can see the Strip quite well on this side of the building.”

“Both, please.” Dahlia wasn’t sure what would make her more relaxed, she felt like a tightly wound spring. The nurse soon returned. She put a large tight fitting restraint over her arm that held her upper arm tightly against the chair and then, through one of the many holes strategically placed along the length, cleaned her arm with something astringent that made her nose wrinkle.

“These help guide the machine and keep the whole system in alignment. They are modeled after power armor frames”

Dahlia nodded even though that fact didn’t really make her feel any more at ease.

“Take a deep breath for me, please.” She felt a quick pinch near elbow and the needle was set in her skin. “In a few minutes you may start to feel a bit loopy. That’s the sedative.” She moved down and secured her leg to the chair with a restraint sleeve. Another nurse on her right strapped down her left arm and leg. For a moment, Dahlia could feel the rush of adrenaline course through her body as the fact she could not move hit her, but as soon as it hit, she felt the rush of the sedatives rise to meet it. She immediately calmed down.

The nurse to her left put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’ll take good care of you, don’t worry. We will be right on the other side of the wall. Just call if you need anything.” They left.

About five dizzy minutes later, Dahlia heard the door behind her open again. A giant tank was wheeled in next to her along with other strange looking contraptions she could not name. What really held her attention, or what was left of it, was the people wearing spacemen getups.

One of them must have noticed Dahlia staring and turned to her. “This is the radiation cocktail.” They patted the tank. “You’re getting a fresh batch made up this morning.” The voice sounded like the nurse from earlier spoken through a metal pipe. “Next we are going to line everything up. It might take a little bit.”

“Take all the time you need.” Dahlia didn’t have the slightest care about how long anything took… or that they were maneuvering what looked to be giant hypodermic needles up with her arms and legs. Under the constraints of the chair, mixed with the chemical cocktail swimming through her blood, her limbs felt heavy and dead. The talking heads on the TV droned on, but the colors on their shirts floated this way and that pleasantly enough.

A heavily gloved hand patted Dahlia on the shoulder.

“We’re going to leave now. This next part might be a bit uncomfortable. Don’t worry, we’ll be watching, remember?”

Dahlia thought she nodded, but wasn’t really sure. The door shut and locked behind her. She watched the smiling faces bounce across the television screen.

A crackling speaker interrupted the toothy parade. “We’re going to start advancing the needles. You may feel some discomfort. Please try to keep still.” That was going to be easy. Dahlia didn’t feel like moving at all.

One by one, the needles plunged into her skin, digging deep. Eventually they hit the bones, but kept boring through. Pressure was all Dahlia felt, which was easily enough ignored. The dancing heads were more entertaining than the needles anyway. A light started blinking on the canister. Dahlia watched with detached curiosity as the glowing green liquid snaked along the tangle of tubes, eventually filling the needles. Now her limbs felt warm, almost throbbing. She started to feel prickly discomfort dance through her brain, some part of her body rebelling against the drugs. The constraints now started to feel confining, the room turning claustrophobic.

“How are you feeling?” hissed the speaker behind her.

“Not that good. I think I need to get up.”

“Hold on, one second. We’ll help you calm down.”

Nearly instantaneously, another wave of chemicals washed into her bloodstream remotely. A pleasant fog enveloped Dahlia’s mind, pushing any notion of pain or anxiety far away. She went back to those pleasant bobbing smiles, every other sense was pushed far into the background of her consciousness.

She was barely registered when the air raid claxons started to blaze somewhere down the hall. Some part of her remembered the sound meant something important, but it didn’t seem that significant at the moment. Screams and shouts floated lazily to hear ears, but they were too far away to illicit any meaningful response. Colorful flames streaking across the sky drew her attention away from the TV. She gazed with little attachment to the world as missiles from downtown arced up to greet the incoming warheads. The explosions reminded Dahlia of the Fourth of July… but didn’t the fireworks normally go off when it was dark outside? They really should have waited until night time. The shockwaves buffeted the building, shaking the windows in their frames.

“Niiicce.” Slurred Dahlia. After a while, the only sounds were the klaxons, still shrilly screaming away, but nothing else reached her ears. Even the TV had gone dark. She floated for a while, enjoying the warmness coursing through her until she drifted off to dreamless sleep.

Hours later, Dahlia woke, pain leeching through the crumbling wall defending her senses. Everything was silent, the room only lit by the open windows and a few emergency lights. Her arms and legs ached, and if she tried to move them, they tugged painfully on the metal forced through her flesh. Her stomach turned and roiled.

“Hello?” she called. “I’m feeling pretty rough.”

Silence.

“Could you turn up the drugs?”

Nothing. The only sound was the whisper of the machine slowly and methodically pushing poison into her bones. She called repeatedly, never receiving an answer. Looking out the windows to the distant city below, alight with dozens of roaring fires and smoldering craters, her half-crystalized memories triggered a terrible realization. No one was coming to release her. She was trapped with a bird’s eye view of the end of the world.

“No…no…no…” Dahlia stammered as the recognition of the magnitude of what was happening took hold in her brain, breaking every attempt at thought or rationalization. Her body shook uncontrollably, locked painfully in place.

Hour after hour ticked away as she had no choice but to watch the buildings burn, occasionally punctuated by some distant explosion as a tank of something finally gave way. She felt her body growing weaker as the irradiated slurry spread through her system. Her thoughts turned to her mother. Was she even still alive? Was she alone, or with someone who would help her? Did she make it to the grocery store?

Dahlia looked at the tank set up next to her, glowing lightly in the darkened room. From what she could see, the tank looked to be about two thirds gone. She tried futilely to reach the tank, to touch the buttons that might stop or turn of the machine, but her bonds held her firmly in place.

Waves of pain passed over her, racking her muscles. She started to become delirious, thinking she heard phantom footsteps or voices behind her. She tore at her constraints, drawing fresh blood from the needles. She lost control of her bodily functions. She may have felt embarrassed once, but now there was no one around to shame her.

So this is what it is like to die from radiation poisoning. Dahlia thought before losing consciences again.

Only she didn’t die. She woke up again, this time ravenously hungry and thirsty. She took some solace that the tank was now empty and the needles had been programmed to retract. It was a small kindness to her exhausted body. It was hours until she passed out again.

Days passed, and this cycle replayed itself over and over, Dahlia growing ever more hungry and thirsty until they seemed to bleed together into one mass of needy pain which accompanied the agony of the radiation destroying her from the inside out. When she would wake during the night, she found the sheer darkness of the city disturbing. Las Vegas had been a city of light for nearly as long as it had existed. Nightfall should have brought the glow of countless neon bulbs blazing, but nearly nothing blinked to life in the dark nights. The city was dead.

Dahlia had lost track of time, everything rolled into one march of pain, hunger, and dreamless sleep. One evening as she watched the clouds streaked color from the setting sun, the emergency signal light blinked out, followed by every light she could see around her in the room going black. Suddenly, the constraints that had held her down for so long popped open.

Dahlia froze. The change frightened her, so she waited and held her breath, but nothing happened. Her body screamed at her as she tried to move, her muscled flaccid, full of burning acid. She attempted to rise, but only succeeded in spilling her body grotesquely on the floor. Painfully, slowly, she inched her way to the door. It took an enormous amount of concentration and energy to pull herself up and try the handle. It opened easily at her touch.

Then it dawned on her… the emergency generators had failed. There before her was an endless pitch-black hallway. She wanted to run down it, finally escape this hell, but she soon fell back into unconsciousness. The exertion was too much.

Dahlia woke again, sprawled on the floor. This time the sun was up, throwing slanted patches of warm light across her and into the empty hall. Calling on energy she wasn’t sure she had, she staggered down the hallway. She found an open office with a water cooler. She greedily drank the last few dregs. She found a single stick of gum in a desk drawer. Greedily she stuck it in her mouth before continuing down the hall. At the end, she found the stairwell and headed cautiously down in the dark. Putrid smells wafted through doorways as she passed abandoned floors. Her mind created horrific scenes of the patients left to die in their beds, now puddles of person-shaped ooze.

She vaguely remembered that the cafeteria was on the first floor, so she soldiered on until she found a door that she thought might connect. With nothing to guide her, she headed towards any noise or light she could detect. This led her to the main atrium, the once grand entry way to the center. Its tall wall of windows facing the street shattered, bodies littering the floor. Dahlia kept to the shadows, fearful of any looters who might still be lingering about. At least with all the light, she could read the placards on the walls and quickly found her way to the cafeteria wing.

She tried to push open the large door to the cafeteria, but something barred her way. Looking down through the small crack she could manage to open, she saw the bloated body of a dead orderly blocking it. She heard something clatter to the floor in the distance. Carefully, she pushed the door open enough to allow her to gain entry, trying hard not to make noise that might draw the attention of whatever might be inside.

She crept close to the buffet tables. Though once they were piled high with food, they were now scraped empty, whatever was left sat crusty and rotten. She was surprised not to see more flies buzzing about, given the state of the room. Dahlia went past them into the darkened kitchen. A faint light bobbed and swayed in the distance. She followed it, crouching behind stainless steel counters and baking racks. In a corner freezer, she spied the silhouette of someone rummaging through food containers, lit by a single candle placed on a freezer shelf. Something unfamiliar wafted through the air. She couldn’t place her finger on it, but it wasn’t like the rotten food and flesh that dotted the area, something metallic, like ozone, but sweet. Dahlia placed a hand on the counter to steady herself. As she did a ladle fell noisily to the floor.

The person in the freezer spun around, arm outstretched in front of her, brandishing a knife. “Leave me the fuck alone!” she screamed. Dahlia noticed her other arm hung limply, wrapped in a poorly improvised sling, blood seeping through the fabric. “Come out where I can see you!” The woman’s eyes were wild. Dahlia had a hint of recognition upon seeing the woman’s face. It was the nurse that had placed her IV. She was even wearing the same scrubs as she wore the last time Dahlia had seen her.

“I don’t mean you any harm.” Said Dahlia. “I’m just looking for something to eat too.” She stepped into the dim light. “Were you my nurse?”

The nurse’s eyes narrowed. “So what if I was. That doesn’t mean jack shit now.” The knife did not waver.

For some reason, Dahlia found herself drawn to look at the sling, her eyes lingering on the blotchy patterns the nurse’s blood. She knew she should be watching her face or, in the very least, the knife… but the red was so alluring, such a beautiful shade, even here in the shadows.

The nurse looked behind her, confused, thinking maybe Dahlia was looking at the food containers just beyond her. “Fuck off. Go sniffing somewhere else for food.” The nurse started to advance towards her.

“Hey… I’m not…” Before Dahlia could finish, the woman slashed the knife in her face. The swing was more of a warning than an attack, missing her skin by nearly a foot, but it startled Dahlia into action. Dahlia easily sidestepped and, without even thinking, she took advantage of the heavy freezer door. Heaving it with whatever strength she had left, the steel door careened into the nurses injured arm and sent yelping back into the freezer. The door lazily swung back out, blood splattered on the handle. Dahlia was transfixed again, watching the crimson pattern glisten in the candlelight.

“STUPID BITCH!” the woman roared. “You have any idea how hard that was to stitch up? You’re going to pay for that!”

Dahlia hardly moved as the nurse started to barreled forward, intending to knock her off her feet. Part of her noticed the proximity of more fresh blood, grabbing her attention. Grabbing her leading hand, she forced the nurse’s knife to the side, pushing her to the floor. During the ensuing tussle, Dahlia felt strangely detached from it all. She knew the woman probably meant to kill her, or injure her enough to get away. That did not seem to matter, she kept coming back to the injured arm and the blood oozing from the popped stitched. The knife was the deciding factor in the fight; she needed to even up the odds. She felt like she was watching from outside of herself as she viscously bit down on the nurse’s wrist, breaking the skin and crushing the tendons underneath.

“FUCK!” The nurse dropped the knife, but Dahlia did not let go. Blood flooded in to her mouth. Part of her knew she should let go, to attack some other part of the woman’s body… that she should be repulsed by what she was doing… but she clenched down harder. The nurse grabbed a nearby skillet with her free hand, bringing it down on Dahlia’s head with a crack.

The blow reverberated through Dahlia’s skull, forcing her even further from herself, like shoving a unmoored boat from a dock. She was adrift with no way to right herself. She floated so far, she could only watch as she started ripping into the nurse’s body, tearing bloody holes as the nurse screamed. Dahlia watched in detached horror as she started to lick and suck the bloody wounds. With every ounce of will she had, she forced herself back, but it was too late. The nurse had stopped screaming… and breathing.

Back in control, Dahlia skittered off the body disgusted, blood dripping down her face and neck. But, God, it felt good. She rubbed her arms, surprised to find the huge painful abscesses left by the needles were quickly disappearing. Dahlia could feel something warm slowly spreading to every extremity. She felt on fire, the radiation sickness leaving her, replaced with a newfound strength. She had not felt this good in months, maybe years. Something in her was changing, but she had no idea what.

“That’s about all of it. It look me decades of work so that I didn’t just attack every human I saw on sight… and an embarrassingly amount more until I could be around people with even a paper cut. Now, it takes a lot of trauma to see that side of me to come out.” Payne sighed. She was emotionally exhausted. No one else knew this much about her. She finally looked up at Hancock as he leaned against the railing of the fire escape, a cigarette between his fingers.

“Damn! I guess that is one way to become a ghoul… plus you got to keep your hair and skin, you lucky dog.”

“Yeah, but there are a few drawbacks. Sunlight and the whole blood drinking thing. I give it a 2 out of 10, would not try again.” She motioned to his sleeves. “Did I do that?” she asked sheepishly.

“This?” He played with the holes sliced in the fabric of his coat. “Nah. That lovely lady on the floor in there was quite insistent on carving me up like a Christmas turkey… not that I know what that is.” He took a more serious tone. “So… if the nice-you decides to check out again... what do I do? Other than piss myself, apparently.”

Payne thought for a second. “Med-X is your best shot. I can’t take a bite out of anyone if my muscles don’t work.” Appearing to clear the fog, she shook her head. “I have to say, this was the first time I remember ever being called back.”

“Called back?”

“Yeah, I could actually hear you a bit through all that. Normally, I just wake up on a pile of bodies.” A pair of ragged crows squawked above them, fluttering off when Payne finally got back to her feet. The catwalk groaned and vibrated under the shift in weight. “Anything else you want to know? Before you make your decision?”

“Yeah, one thing.” He flicked the butt over the railing. “Where was your mom?” Payne looked at him, confused. “Did she ever make it to the grocery store?”

Not sure where he was going with this, Payne simply said, “I found her outside the house, shot in the back by some looters. I threw quite the ‘Welcome Home’ party for myself before I buried her… and those bastards footed the bill in blood.”

Hancock smiled as he adjusted his hat. “And that right there, Dream Girl, is why I’m going to keep you on. You take care of the people that you care about, no matter what. Making sure those who cross you pay… well, that’s just a bonus, in my opinion.” He strode confidently back into the building. “I think you have a new knife to claim… if you can find it in all this mess. That fucker’s sharp!”

Payne’s muscles finally relaxed a bit as she rubbed the small of her back. “You’re telling me!”

#antique champagne #fallout #fallout4 #fanfic #fan fic #ao3 #flashback #backstory #hancock

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