#but like i wanna know if just washing out the items will prevent any staining

[dolla-dolla-yeah]

Does anyone know if AG ever fixed the staining issue with Maritza's leggings or the Diwali top/do you know if just washing the items before putting it on your doll will prevent staining???

[irrelevantwriter]

House Call

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, reader being scared and horny, Rio’s BDE (y'all know what's up)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Part 1. Rio shows up unannounced to talk business. Among other things. 

A/N: It’s here...it’s happening. It took me a whole 2.5 seconds to become obsessed with Rio once I started watching GG. Ya’ll know how I roll. Anyway, this is me just dipping my toe into the water. I didn't get too deep with a plot (spoiler alert: there isn't any). It’s essentially just reader-insert into the show’s current plot, but with some smut thrown in. For fun. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Added a Part 2! Read it here.

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

***********************

“You okay?”

The sound of your friend’s concerned voice filled the line, pulling you back to the moment and the conversation you’d been engaged in before you’d burnt yourself in the spray of hot water.

“Yeah, just washing dishes.” You explained, cradling your cell between your shoulder and cheek as you maneuvered dirty dishes under the spout of water.

“So the meeting with the principal? How’d it go?” Rachel asked, getting you back on track.

You sighed, beginning to scrub at a stubborn coffee stain left behind on one of your favorite mugs.

“Fine. The kids are still having a hard time with the divorce so it’s…” You paused, unsure of how to describe the child-like brooding your son and daughter had taken to participating in since you’d separated from their father.

“Tense? Difficult? Weird?” Rachel listed off helpfully.

“All of the above.” You deadpanned, still scrubbing.

“You take the rest of the day off?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta figure out what I’m going to do with these kids. Paul said he’d come over later to talk it over.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of him.” Rachel replied, sarcasm and disdain dripping from her words.

“Well, it’s a start. And as much as I’d like to tell him to fuck off, I can’t. He’s still their dad.” You explained for the hundredth time, feeling the stress of your situation with your ex starting to creep into your body. Your shoulders felt stiff and your head began to throb with a dull ache. It was a familiar reaction these days. One you loathed.

You opened your mouth to steer the conversation elsewhere when the doorbell rang, chiming throughout the empty expanse of your home.

“Paul?” Rachel asked, obviously hearing the alert of someone’s company over the phone.

“I guess. Look, I’ll call you later.” You said with another sigh, this one more tired than annoyed. You gave up on the stained mug and moved onto drying it, shutting the water off as you did.

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You ended the call, aware that you were short with her, but unable to feel sorry for it. You had plenty of other things to worry about, none of which involved your shitty ex or his new girlfriend.

You placed your cell on the counter and turned to make your way to the entryway, mug still clutched in your hand. The ceramic cup dropped to the floor and shattered into pieces when you saw who was already in your kitchen. You gasped, clutching your chest and yelping at the familiar man in black, the dark ink splattered across his throat the first thing you noticed. Your heart leapt, your body going rigid at the unexpected visit. Pop-ups like this were never a good sign.

“I let myself in.” Rio supplied, voice low and thick with authority and charm. He wore a smirk, lips upturned at your surprised reaction. He always seemed amused by you. That fact only served to unsettle you further.

“What’re you doing here?” You managed to say between shaky breaths, fear making your own voice quiver.

“Just checking in, mama. Can’t I do that?” He challenged with his arms spread wide, daring you to say otherwise.

You didn’t.

You went to move around the large kitchen island but the shards of broken mug prevented you from getting far on bare feet. Rio took notice and strode towards you, all clean lines and hooded eyes. He had a swagger about him that radiated. It sent a clear message about the kind of man he was. Confident. Skilled. Smart. There was an ease in his movements, but a beast lay in wait inside, ready to strike when the need arose.

His piercing gaze took in your dress, uncaring of being discreet or polite. He appraised you from the tips of your painted toes to the top of your head. It was as unnerving as it was thrilling. He crowded your space. He always did. While the scent of him filled your nostrils. Something spicy, but pleasing. It sat in your nose, and you knew from previous experience that you’d smell it for hours after.

You swallowed, wanting to avoid his close proximity. You hastily bent down to gather what you could of the jagged pieces, moving around his sneaker-clad feet that stood before you. You tried to ignore his presence, tried to appear calm and composed. It was an uphill battle. The man always knew how to throw you off. He knew how to keep people on their toes. It was yet another facet of him that you both coveted and despised.

You hissed, feeling the edge of one of the shards dig into the tip of your finger. You stood and sucked the tip into your mouth, trying to clear the area of the blood that had started to surface. His eyes were on you, watching you with interest and a certain level of lust that you didn’t allow yourself to explore. You stiffened when he reached for your wrist and pulled your finger away from your lips. He inspected the cut, his flesh warm and soft against yours. It was a side of him that eclipsed the man you’d come to know over the last several months.

“It’s not bad. I’ll be fine.” You whispered, attempting to pull your hand free of his. It was futile.

“Band aid?”

“Uh...yeah. In that drawer. Next to the stove.” You pointed in the direction of the drawer, holding your breath as he retrieved the item. This time, you watched him. Watched as he unwrapped the bandage and tended to your finger with all the care of a parent with their child. He held the appendage steady as he got ready to wrap it, but he stopped himself. He locked eyes with you instead, making you shiver.

“I make you nervous.”

It was a statement. A very true statement. And yet you found yourself shaking your head; ironic because your voice felt too unsteady to use.

Your heart stopped when he placed a tender kiss to the cut. The air around you crackled with heat and tension. It was unlike any feeling you’d ever been subjected to before. It was danger mixed with primal fascination...attraction. And it called to you like a raft in a sea of treacherous waves.

He ignored your silent response and sealed the band aid over your finger, ensuring the ends were smooth against your skin. He didn’t let go of you.

“Don’t lie to me, okay? Trust is an important thing. And we’ve gotta have it if we wanna keep doing business together.”

His calm demeanor and gentle chastising made you a puddle of obedience. Your need to please wasn’t just born from fear. It was something you’d been unable to come to terms with until now. You saw it for what it truly was. You wanted to please him. In as many ways as he’d let you.

You nodded in response, agreeing to his statement.

“Let’s try it again then, yeah?” He started, eyes roaming your face. “I make you nervous, don’t I?”

“The constant threat of my life makes it difficult for me to be calm.” You said, choosing to still be untruthful. 

You forced yourself not to fidget as his stare scorched your skin. His black eyes roamed across the open expanse of your collarbone and to the modest neckline of your wrap dress. He licked his lips as he focused on the measured breaths of your chest, your breasts rising with each pass.

“That’s not the only reason.” He retorted with a shake of his head. He leaned in close, noses almost touching as he spoke. “Don’t move.”

You said nothing as he bent down, continuing your failed task of picking up the broken bits of ceramic. You observed him dutifully gathering each piece, piling them into one large hand. His face looked pensive, as if he was trying to solve an equation in his head. You leaned against the island for support and bit your lip, unwilling to give into the lecherous thoughts that haunted you at night and managed to infiltrate your dreams.

“Nice dress.”

His compliment made you pause, looking down to meet that familiar smirk. He’d set what was left of the mug onto the counter, the floor relatively clear of large fragments. His fingers now played with the hem of said dress, the flowy material dancing in the air and away from your body.

“Thanks.”

Your voice was small. The apprehension so clear that you could both taste it. He found it funny. You found it humiliating.

He slowly straightened, taking the fabric with him as he gathered it to just above your knees.

“Color looks good on you.”

Again, the juvenile warmth of his praise sent you reeling further into anxiety’s waiting arms. Inwardly, you were responding to every lick of his lips and quirk of his eyebrow. Your thighs shifted restlessly against each other, waiting for that satiation that you hadn’t felt in forever. Outwardly though, you remained as skittish as a wild horse. You were as much on the edge of pleasure as you were on retreating.

“Thanks.” You said with a pleasant smile, wanting to conceal the yearning that bubbled just under the surface. You smoothed out the hunter-green fabric that rested against your abdomen, hoping to urge his hands away from you and the dress.

No such luck.

Instead, he ran his fingers up your skirt and along the outside of your thighs and hips, almost meeting the edge of your lace panties. Your traitorous body showed its hand, your nipples hardening in eagerness. Rio’s gaze predictably caught the action. And his face showed his approval.

“How long you been divorced?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his sudden curiosity. But the switch in topic had you alert again and somewhat clear of the fog he was so insistent on throwing you into.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything?” You questioned, stepping back from his body.

His hands fell away from you finally, but they didn’t stay idle for long. They skimmed over your hips, pressing your backside into the edge of the kitchen island.

“Answer me, mama.” He demanded, head craning down to meet your eyes. The intensity of his stare made you shift on your feet. He had an amazing poker face. A skill that left you envious.

“Two years.” You dutifully supplied, leaning backwards every inch that he moved in.

“It’s been that long then.” He commented with a nod, a finger tracing along the neckline of your dress, hovering just above your cleavage.

“That long for what?” You asked, taking note of the subtle ways in which his face changed. There was no trace of the teasing, light-hearted flirting that you’d become accustomed to seeing from him. He was serious. Almost as serious as the times he’d threatened your life. His touch was more insistent, telling you what he wanted rather than hinting. His mouth lowered to your ear, his nose brushing against your neck in a far too erotic manner. Your fingers itched to anchor yourself to him. You denied the request.

“Since someone stretched you out.”

A gasp caught in your throat, though you didn’t know if it was more from his words or his touch. He’d managed to slip a hand under your dress, tracing the crotch of your panties with a dexterous finger as he spoke.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stammered, knuckles tightening against the edge of the counter you were currently gripping.

“I mean…” Rio started, lips brushing against the shell of your ear with each syllable. His finger barely teased your slit, but his voice more than compensated for the lack of physicality. “You haven’t had someone here,” He emphasized the word with a firm press of his finger against the soaked material that hid your clit from view. “In two years. Maybe more.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as he continued to manipulate your body. Your head screamed at you to stop, to pull away. But the sensation of his body pressed so firmly to yours was far too comforting to deny.

“You don’t know that.” You attempted, though the effort was obviously pointless. It was true. Since your separation and subsequent divorce from Paul, you’d barely been on a date, much less had sex. Your body was fiending for it...for him. And he knew it.

He scoffed, finding amusement in your words. He pressed his finger along the same dampened area, seeing your eyes roll into the back of your head. He licked his lips when your hand shot out to grasp at his wrist.

“Yeah, I do.” He affirmed with a nod, finger still teasing over your lace-covered slit. “He stepped out on you, didn’t he?” He continued, his eyes taking stock of the way you responded to his touch.

You had trouble focusing on the conversation he insisted on having while his hand was up your dress and practically in your underwear. You didn’t feel the need to supply an answer anyway. He already had all the information he needed.

“He didn’t deserve you.”

You were jolted back to reality by his words, straightening your spine and pushing his hand from between your legs.

“And what? You do?” You threw back, agitation seeping into your tone. You felt like he was patronizing you. He was always one step ahead. Always aware of the skeletons in your closet before you were.

“Never said that.” He said with a shake of his head, not stepping out of your space. His hands were off your body now, but the stains they’d left on you would remain there. They wouldn’t easily be erased. And you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted them to be.

“Why are you here?” You asked, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“Business.”

“A simple call or text works for that.”

“Wanted to come in person.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wore an expression of smugness, as if he knew something you didn’t, which was often the case.

“What do you want then?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” He retorted swiftly, lips pulled into a thin line.

The seriousness was back, his eyes nearly swallowing you as all humor became sucked from the room. The nerves in your stomach came back full force, the fear aiding them in their efforts. He was challenging you, apparently done with your lying.

“I…”

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin. He was too intimidating. Just too much.

“I-I can’t.” You finished lamely, shaking your head and looking down at your feet.

He tilted your chin up, his mouth only centimeters from yours as he dared you to move.

“Just say the word.” He rasped against your lips, his free hand cradling your cheek.

You let yourself stare back, taking in his dark lashes and the angles of his face. He confused you on many levels, angered you beyond belief. He made your life a living hell. And yet, you wanted him more than anything. More than the money and the thrill of crime. And somehow he was privy to it all. And he wanted to give it to you.

So you were going to let him.

“Kiss me.” You breathed out, your hands finally coming to rest on his chest.

He needed no further encouragement. His mouth settled over yours in a tangle of lips and tongues. He tasted like mint, his lips much softer than they looked. The scratch of his facial hair only added to the moment as you pressed further into him, asking him to take more.

He did.

His hands were rough, but not unpleasant as they trailed along your body. They had the marks of healed scars. Not to mention the blood of those who chose to cross him. They were everywhere and all at once. Your breasts, your neck, your waist, your ass. He kneaded where he knew you yearned for more and tenderly stroked the areas in between. You struggled to keep up as his hips pushed into yours, his own yearning making its presence known.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You managed to say between heavy breaths, Rio’s mouth attaching to your neck and sucking near your throbbing pulse.

“Why not?” He mumbled into your skin, hands unwilling to slow down.

“Things will get complicated.”

He pulled himself away from the crook of your neck, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen pout.

“Yeah, they will.” He said with a chuckle, that devilish smirk staring back at you.

It was all a blur after that.

Limbs intertwined together as you worked on the buckle of his pants while he pushed your dress up and over your hips this time. He harshly pulled the lace away, the elastic snapping against your thighs as it got caught before making its way to the floor. Your mouths didn’t separate, not even when he lifted you onto the counter. He pulled one side of your dress away, exposing the matching bra you wore underneath. Your pebbled nipples called to him and he responded, massaging the flesh with expert precision. You moaned and writhed like a woman possessed. Like a woman that hadn’t been laid in two years.

“Feels good?”

The roughened gravel of his voice made your walls spasm, the hint of self-assuredness causing a wave of arousal to seep from within you. You could only nod, wordlessly pleading with him to continue on. His touch ventured south to your spread thighs. You widened them, allowing him access to the place you needed him the most. He didn’t disappoint.

His fingers were long and probing as they penetrated your sex, slipping easily in. You gasped at the fullness, the stretch around him making your eyes squeeze shut. He let your body guide him as he rubbed at your clit, his fingers curling against your walls.

“I’m...god...I’m gonna cum.” You confessed, only somewhat embarrassed by the suddenness of your climax.

He worked hard and faster. Your nails dug into his back, your mouth landing on his shoulder as you struggled to not cry out. You bit down when the euphoria of orgasm washed over you, trapping his hand within you. He could feel every tremor he brought forth as you shook in his arms. It felt like it lasted for hours, your body unwilling to let the feeling be a fleeting moment in time.

“You still with me?” He asked, lips pressed to your temple.

You nodded, hissing when he removed his fingers from the confines of your body. You watched, feeling as if you were in a daze. He shifted his pants and boxers down, revealing his length to your ravenous eyes. The hand that had been so deeply embedded in you now wrapped around himself. He was long and hard, as rigid as his hands. You felt like a moth to a flame, hand reaching out to feel if he was real. He was.

You swiped your finger over the tip of him and were overcome with wanton pride at feeling the moisture that sat there. His jaw clenched in a way that you’d only ever seen him do in anger. He didn’t allow you to continue. In an instant he was wedged between your thighs, his body already pushing into your waiting sex. Even with the climax from his fingers, he was a tight fit. You both expelled breaths, his a mumbled curse and yours a throaty moan. You shut your eyes as a new burst of pleasure radiated from your core and traveled up your spine. There was only a brief moment of intimacy as he sat unmoving within you, letting your body adjust to him.

It was short-lived.

“Fuck...” He cursed as he began to fuck you into the counter, hands holding your hips in place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lavished yours with kisses and bites, each thrust of his hips causing his teeth to graze your skin. The chill of the marble countertop beneath your bare ass cooled your overheated skin. You bit your lip so hard you could taste blood as he filled you over and over, each pass making your walls accept more of him. He was deep and hitting that gloriously elusive spot that sat within your womb. 

He cupped your breasts while you scraped your nails down his back, hearing him growl in response. The sound made you yearn to hear more. So, you did something you’d always wanted to do...you licked the ink on his throat. You decorated his skin with tantalizing kisses, your tongue aiding your actions. He shivered against your lips, the reaction making your walls clench around him. He was, at least for the moment, a slave to your ministrations. And it was a high unlike any drug you’d ever encountered.

It was animalistic fucking at its finest. He hit every nerve, soothed every ache. The union of your bodies was enough to send you sailing off the proverbial cliff, but his touch kept you tethered to solid ground, longing for more. He rocked his hips mercilessly into you, making your back arch at an almost painful angle.

“Right there, huh?” He teased, feeling you squeeze around him in raw desire. “Yeah, that’s the spot.”

You whimpered and tensed when he savagely rubbed your swollen clit, forcing your legs to tighten around him. He laughed, the sound ominous in your ringing ears. You could only hold on as he delivered the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. You spread your thighs wider, trying to get him closer than humanly possible. You opened your neck up to him, letting him have access to your bare flesh. You wanted him all over you and leaving a scorching trail of hunger in his wake.

It was manic. It was frenzied. It was passionate. And it all combined into a seductive elixir that made fireworks burst from within.

“Shit...I’m cumming.” You warned, feeling him double his efforts. Every muscle went taut with blinding pleasure as that coil finally snapped. You felt weightless, and yet the firm body still driving into your depths made you feel sublimely solid. And whole. More whole than you’d felt in the entirety of your marriage.

It was on the tail-end of your climax that Rio found his. His hips stuttered as he grunted and groaned, releasing himself into you and painting your walls. His fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thighs while his face burrowed into your chest and neck. It was as uninhibited as you’d seen him. And you were addicted to the sight. 

You both heaved with shallow breaths, the exertion of each of your climaxes literally taking the air from your lungs. The room smelled of sex and instant regret as you straightened in Rio’s arms. He separated from your body, eyeing you as he redressed. You shifted your dress back together to cover your bra, the mess between your thighs preventing you from closing them completely. 

Before you could say anything, Rio reached up and cradled your cheek. He played with your bottom lip, his thumb once again finding the appendage. His eyes took in every part of you, as if he hadn’t fucked you senseless seconds before. He licked his lips in that dangerous way that let you know his thoughts were on more than just money.

“Business is good?” He asked, warm palm still pressed to your cheek.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Cool, cool.” He nonchalantly replied, hand leaving your face as he stepped back from your debauched body. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said with a nod, pushing your dress further down over your thighs, a lame effort to protect any modesty you might’ve still possessed. He smirked at the action.

“Might wanna clean up the mess.” He said with a cheeky upturn of his lips, hands gesturing to the remaining fragments of ceramic that still littered the floor but eyes locked solely to the spot between your legs. The place he knew he’d left a part of himself.

You bit your lip and nervously played with the hem of your dress, feeling his eyes bore into you. Despite still being fully dressed, you felt naked to him. Bare. Exposed. Vulnerable. You hated it.

He retreated, facing you as he walked backwards towards the front door. You watched him from over your shoulder, still unsure of what to make of the whole situation. 

“And lock your door from now on. All kinds of madmen running around these streets.” He quipped, eyes lighting up at his own joke.

He was gone as fast as he’d arrived, causing havoc and then leaving without a second thought. The door closed with a crisp click at his exit, the house now feeling bare without his foreboding presence.

You didn’t move from your spot. You remained on the counter, Rio still leaking from your walls and your dress still disheveled despite your best efforts. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one riddled with panic. His unexpected visit left you with more questions than answers, all of which were tinged with fear. What did this development mean for you? Did it actually mean anything? Or was he simply taking what was so obviously laid out in front of him?

Did it matter?

No. It didn’t.

Because although he may have indulged your craving, your appetite was far from being fulfilled.

[eerythingisshaka]

Play Though?

(Dad!M’Baku x Reader)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N:  This kind of came to me from the movie Claudine with Diahann Carroll?  The characters are gonna have the same sort of attitudes as the main one in that movie.   A relationship that isn’t a storybook one, swept off of your feet one, but still good.  Who wants that perfect love story anyway?

So, Reader is a single parent and one day in the park meets someone that steals her concentration.  The rest is below...

You rub your temples as you hear the clatter of metal and plastic banging around in your brain.  Throbbing pain emanates from your skull as you get up and head to the kitchen, walking over the land mines of hot wheel cars, Legos, and army men figures scattered about your living room carpet.

“Mama!  I have a big race to do!  Wanna see?”  The gleaming, round faced, mahogany toned golden child that is your son asks.

You put on a weak but sincere smile as you pour some water to and shake a couple aspirin in your hand.  “I do want to see, Xavier.  Just give mama a minute to get a drink first.”

“Ok.  Mama, can I have some juice?”  Xavier gets up, trotting into the kitchen to the fridge.

You stop mid sip, reaching out to keep him from opening the fridge.  “What did I say about getting something before I tell you to?”

Xavier’s large brown eyes widen even more as he knows what to say.  “You say to wait.”

Nodding, you continue.  “Wait for mama to say yes or no.  Now get off the door and ask me again.”  You cap the aspirin and put it in the cabinet.  

Xavier fidgets with his hands, spinning in a circle as he spoke.  “Can I have some juice mamaaaa.”

You cross your arms, smiling devilishly.  “After you clean up all those toys in there.”

Xavier makes a stink face, coming over to hug your legs.  “I want to play still.”

“I thought you wanted juice?”  You ask, examining the life expectancy or the braids he’s been wearing.

“Uh huh, but-”

“Then you need to clean up your toys.”  Pointing him towards the living room, you dig for your phone to double check your shopping list.  “You should anyway, we’re going to the store to get some stuff for dinner.  You’ve had nuggets three times this week, and probably more including daycare.”

Xavier noisily throws his toys in the bin one at a time.  “Uh uh!  Ms. Adams gave us fries one day, and-and pizza!”  

You roll your eyes as you scroll your phone.  “That’s not a balanced diet, X.  They don’t teach you about eating fruits and vegetables yet?”

Xavier clangs his cars hard into their bin, annoying you to the nth degree.  “Xavier, you got one more time to throw that in there ‘fore I light you up.  Clean up right!”

Xavier hangs his head, braids curtain his face as he slumps to pick up each toy and put them in the tub, painstakingly slow.  You rest your head on your fist, jiggling your foot as you watch him get on your nerves in the most minute ways.  Xavier peers over at you periodically whenever he goes to pick up a toy to see what you’re doing but you remain unphased, waiting patiently as he wastes your time and his own.  What a five year old has to have an attitude about is beyond your thoughts to grasp.

“Xavier Maurice, you have two minutes to pick up the rest of these toys from off this floor, otherwise you are not getting any juice, or iPad time for the day.  It’s your choice.”

Xavier moos at your ultimatum, picking up his pace only slightly, but scooping his toys by the handful.  You would correct him on his tone, but he caught you on a good day.  One thing your son has taught you is how to pick your battles.

The sun was shining and the air felt warm for a change, so you and Xavier walked down to the nearby farmer’s market you’ve been meaning to try out.  The place is packed with whites in cargo shorts and Columbia fleece jackets as you calmly peruse the array of tomatoes, cucumbers, oranges, apples, fresh herbs, homemade pastas, and all other artisanal, organic ingredients you could get your hands on.  Xavier was not having it, doing his best to remain calm but he is five.

“Mama, where are the PopTarts?  And-and cereals?”  He whines, reaching for an onion on the bottom row of a stack.  You swiftly stop him, preventing what would have been an avalanche on him and a hefty guilt bill for you.

“Hey!  Same rules at home, apply out here.  Don’t touch anything.”  You smell a pear just for the hell of it.  The possibilities were endless for you to make some sensible and fulfilling meals for the two of you, but you also had to think realistically about Xavier’s picky eater status and your limited time to cook during the week.   They may not have had PopTarts, but you found some homemade ice cream that seemed decent enough to try.

After you put together a good looking basket full of items and pay, you head back to your house to get things started.   Xavier helps you carry a bunch of bananas in a bag when a nearby park catches his eye.  

“Mama!  Can I go play there?”  Xavier asks, bouncing on his toes.

You look to the playground area.  It wasn’t very crowded and he could probably run off some energy to earn a nap later.

You fake like you’re thinking hard, making Xavier beg even more, sticking out his pink bottom lip.  You couldn’t torture your baby any longer.

“Fine, go ahead.  But stay on the playground, don’t go off with anybody.  And if I call you cuz I can’t see you, you better come to me, ok?”

Xavier nods happily, shoving the fruit at you before booking it across the grass and through a gap in the hedges lining the park’s perimeter to get to the bright colored construction.

You take this time to sit back on a park bench, feeling the coolness of the wood against your legs and back, mixed with the warmth of the sun beaming down.  

This actually wasn’t a bad idea in the grand scheme of things.  You got time to enjoy nature, sit down as your child is occupied, giving the screen time a break for the both of you.  And you can people watch, which is your favorite pastime.  There are two white women chatting in deep conversation as you see a blonde hair girl lick a rock before tossing it to the ground, and brunette one hanging from the monkey bars falling hard on her back, head bouncing off of the concrete.  She starts to scream bloody murder, but when she gets up, you assume it is from embarrassment more than pain.  Her mother’s neck whips around to find her before scooping her up and cooing at her questions, asking if she is alright, etc.

Looking past them, you see a little Black girl swinging on the swing set, hair in braided pigtails held by bobbles, smiling widely as her little legs kicked to build up her momentum.  Behind her is a man.  And by man, you mean a MAN.  Dark wash jeans that accentuated his thick legs; clean chocolate sneakers on his feet; and dark brown Henley shirt that took on the privileged task of masking the full extent of his broad shoulders and impressive chest; dark brown leather jacket.  

You suddenly feel very aware of your T-shirt with a questionable stain that you hid with an old university jacket and your old worn out jeans that Xavier scribbled on once and you tossed on in a hurry.  This guy looked like the last person you would expect to be pushing a little girl  in a swing at a park.  More like pushing you up against a wall and-

“Mama!  Come push me!”  

The sound of your child calling out to you snapped you from your sudden romance novel fantasy and you picked up your bag and headed over to the swing set.  You tried to avoid looking at the man pushing the giggly little girl in front of him as you took your spot behind your son.

“I’m gonna go higher!  You’ll see!”  Xavier taunts the little girl as he grips the chains awaiting your assistance.  She sticks her tongue out while gliding toward the sky.

“X, be nice!  This isn’t a competition.”  You say as motherly as you can, without an inkling of a sour tone.

“Oh it isn’t?”  When he spoke, you almost missed your next turn to push Xavier.  The deepness of his tone shook you more than you cared to admit, along with an accent you couldn’t place?  You were done for..  Looking over at him, you get a full and up close shot of his appearance.  His smile is youthful and inviting despite his large appearance, with the gap in his teeth you would’ve laughed but not to be rude.  It just brought out your playfulness and made your brain melt as you tried to multitask.

Laughing stupidly, you say, “Well, I mean, swinging isn’t a sport or game.  You just swing and enjoy it.”

He shrugs, pushing the little girl as she cackled at her speed of motion.

“Harder mama!  I wanna go higher!”  Xavier demands.

“You heard him Mama, harder!”  He says with a slick smile, as he also pushes his child with more force.  You shook the implication of innuendo from your mind as you pushed Xavier farther.

“Listen, I’m getting tired of both of y’all telling me what to do.  Men, I swear.”  You murmur under your breath, looking at he sideways.  

“Oh like women are so easy to please?  This little girl has had me up since 7 am with her tea parties and Doc McStuffin reruns and baby shark.  All I can say is ‘yes ma’am, of course sweetheart’.”

“As it should be.”  You chide him.  Xavier’s laughter is at its peak excitement as he passes the little girl on one swing.  

“I told you, I got you!”  Xavier says.

“X!”

“Baba!”  The little girl bellows out all of a sudden,  dragging her heels across the gravel to bring herself to a stop.  So that is his child, you thought.

“Yes, ọmọbinrin?”  He asks, kneeling down to her level beside her.  She put her small hands to either side of his face looking very serious.  

“I want to be alone now.  You embarrassed me in front of my friend.”  She gets up and goes over to Xavier who stops his swing to.  She takes his hand and escorts him to the sandbox.

You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth as you snort.  He looks up at you, slowly getting up.

“You find that funny?”  He asks, eyebrow raised.

You try your best to look serious but you can’t help it.  “Um, ahem.  I mean, hey you are right.  Nothing but ‘yes ma’am’ with that little girl.  You are wrapped around her fingers and toes, Mr….”

He kisses his teeth, looking over at them.  “M’Baku Rotimi.  And maybe so.  But I’d rather have it that way.  She doesn’t cower from people who test her, like her daddy.”  M’Baku puffs his chest out slightly for mass effect.

You ignore the twitch you feel at when he says ‘daddy’, trying to stay cool as you look away.  “How old is she?”

“Jolasun four, going on 40, very mature and bossy like a certain Miss....”  M’Baku mutters anticipating your response as you give him your name.

He looks you up and down slightly.  “And your boy, X?”

“Xavier.  Five, and every bit of it.  It’s funny, he seems to follow your little girl’s word more than my own.”

“It’s a blessing and a curse.  You might want to warn him about that,  Pretty girls grabbing ahold of his attention too quick.  Happens to the best of us.”  M'Baku says scratching the back of his neck, looking at you like he has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  You laugh in a way that was supposed to be condescending but comes out more like a seagull caught in barb wire.  

“Oh am I supposed to pick up on something with that statement?”  You ask in a challenging tone.

M’Baku puts his hands in his pockets, taking a small step towards you.  “No, no, I’m not a poet, nor do I beat around the bush.  You are very beautiful and witty, with a son who looks well taken care of.”

You take a step back, flustered but cool on the surface.  “Yeah, of course, because I know how to do that.”

“Alone?”  M’Baku asks inquisitively, cocking his head to the side.  You exhale sharply, flabbergasted as you take this as your cue to leave.

“I should probably get going.  I have to make dinner and stuff so…”  You turn to pick up your bag and soon as you do, the ice cream falls out, along with other items.  It’s condensation from its container worked a hole in the bottom of the paper sack, rendering it useless.

“Fuck!”  You curse, picking up the too soft ice cream.

“Here, I can help you with that.”  M'Baku picks up the bag carefully, using the other side of the bag that is hole-less, balancing so the contents don’t fall out the top.  You have what spilled outside of it already.

“God, you don’t have to do that!”  You say, attempting to take the bag out of his embrace.

He lifts it higher, turning from you.  “Eh!  I feel at least a bit responsible talking your ear off, please.  Allow me.”

His eyes are sincere enough, you thought.  It’s not like you watched Dateline the night before and saw something about people using children as bait for kidnapping women.  You shake the notion out of your head, figuring you’re being a little paranoid.

“I don’t live far, unless you drove.”

“We don’t live far either, so it’s fine; she felt like walking today.  Jolasun!”

“Xavier!  Come on, we gotta go!”

“Can Jola come with us, mama!?”  Xavier asks out loud as they dust sand off of themselves.

“Yeah, she and her Dad are coming, hurry up!”  You bellow, thanking M'Baku again cautiously as you all walked to your place.  

The weather almost felt like summer by the time you got back, kicking off your shoes as you and M'Baku plop the goods on the counter as you wiped your brow and caught your breath.  Xavier and Jolasun run for the bin of toys.

“Xavier, I don’t want a mess.  You can watch TV, no toys right now.”

Xavier is barely phased by the change in plans as he gets the remote, expertly selecting his choice of programs.

M'Baku puts the ice cream in the fridge as you start organizing the food in their proper places.  “Thanks again.  God that woulda been a mess without you.”

M'Baku unpacks the bananas.  “It’s all good.  You seemed a little off balance, so I figured this might tip you over if I didn’t help.”

You scoff as you shut your fridge door.  “Off balance?  What does that mean?”

M'Baku takes a breath before ripping an imitation of your seagull squawk with embellished eyelash batting and a hair flip.

“What?  What is all of that?  I don’t sound like that either.”  You say, offended but entertained.  

M'Baku leans on the counter peering at you suavely.  “Maybe not exactly like that, sure.  Can I make it up to you with showing how to use some of these ingredients you bought?”

You put a hand on your hip, pointing a loaf of bread at him.  “Now you have stepped over the line.  I can cook burn my own kitchen down, thanks.”

M'Baku chuckles. Looking in the living room at the kids who have gone quiet except for the TV.  “I am trying to impress you, but you’re taking it as an offense.  The saying is, what is it…’thou doth protest too much’?.”

You roll your eyes walking around him to see what the children were up to.  Looking over the couch, you can tell they were slumped in a way that for sure meant they were asleep.  Before you could confirm, you feel a sharp pain in your foot.

“AGH-”  you exclaim, before clamping your mouth with you hand and bouncing back.  You feel M'Baku’s hand on your side, the other holding our arm to keep you steady.  His touch is hot on you, his body must run naturally warm, you noted; hands rough but gentle and careful when holding you.  His close proximity to you helped you to realize how good he smelled; earthy and natural with a clean laundry finish.  

“Are you hurt?  What was that?”  M'Baku asked, but you hushed him as he spoke, pointing and mouthing that the kids were asleep.   He gets wide eyed and mouths an “oh”, letting you go to pick up the spare army man that Xavier neglected to pick up this morning.

You sat on a chair at the kitchen table, rubbing the bottom of your foot as you watch him bend over, some skin exposing on his lower back exposing how even toned his melanin is and you are thankful.

“I would offer to help you clean but you may not like that either.” M'Baku says, dropping the toy in its proper place.

You roll your eyes so deep you see your brain.  “Sir, I will never say no to free maid service if you are offering, but my son couldn't care less how many legos stab the soles of my feet.”

As he walked over to join you at the table, M'Baku lays a hand daintily on your knee.  “I am at your service.   If that means I am seeing you for a second date, I would be honored.”

“Second?”  Your voice rises as you question him, watching him smile.  You are really beginning to love that smile.  “Let me ask you this:  what makes you assume I am available to date?  That I don’t have a husband on the way home any minute?”

M’Baku looks around the kitchen.  “I see no pictures, you have no ring, and if you did, I would curse him for being so lazy as to not help you with your shopping list.”

You stare at him a moment before scoffing.  “You really want to cook for me huh?”

M’Baku throws his hands up.  “That would be a great start!  I have many vegetarian dishes you would fall in l-”

“Oh, whoa, wait.  You?  Babe the Blue Ox, is a vegetarian?”

M’Baku twists his lip up at the nickname.  “I’m not familiar with the moniker, but I am!”

“Is that what life is like from wherever you are?”

“Kansas?  Yes, of course.”  M’Baku rests his chin on his fist, looking at you innocently before breaking with a smile.

Your body relaxes as you tap the table with your fingertips thinking over your options.  A man you met on the playground, gorgeous and foreign man, wants to see you again and make you dinner.  Without any weird vibes, bad lines, or perverse insinuations?

“Mama?”

You snap to look in the living room, seeing a little hand stretch up from the couch.  “Can I have juice now?”  You spring up, thankful for the distraction to go check on your son.  Jolasun is rubbing her eyes as well.

“Sure thing baby, you’ve earned it.  Mama will have some too, she’s kind of thirsty all of a sudden.  Jolasun, you want some?”  You ask, grabbing some grape juice to pour.

“I think we’ll just head out actually.  It’s been good, you’ve got dinner to cook.”  M'Baku answers, getting up to go over and pick Jolasun up in his arms.

You didn’t even feel like cooking, especially now when there were two broad, strong spare hands ready to light your taste buds on fire.  “If you truly have somewhere to be, yeah, no problem.”

“Can Jolasun come over again?”  Xavier asks looking up at M'Baku with his cup in his hand.  Jolasun’s head springs off her dad’s shoulder to glare at him, making M'Baku laugh.  “If Jolasun is good with it, I think we can arrange something.”  Jolasun smiles, giving Xavier a thumbs as he smiles with purple juice stained lips.

“So, we can all just….meet up again sometime in the future.  Make plans between us, and that should be fun!”  You say informally, trying to keep things casual, no mentions of a date to roll of your tongue.

M'Baku’s eyes light up as he hugs his daughter winking at you.  “Good, it’s a date.  Take my number down and we can talk.”

You sink into the floor, submitting your number into his device as he asked.  So much for avoiding the ‘D’ word.  You all say your goodbyes then, closing the door and feeling like you can breathe for the first time all day as you plop on the couch.  But you still feel an extreme amount of energy.  Now you have a date to plan, but how long has it been since you’ve been on one?  What would you wear?  Should you buy more food for him to work with?  And shit!  He is a vegetarian!  Xavier don’t care about not a ne’er vegetable!

“Mama, that was fun!  I can’t wait to see them soon!”  Xavier exclaims jumping in your lap with all of his weight.

You wince at his knees in your thighs, picking him up and lightly slamming him down on the pillows in retaliation.  “Ohh!  I can’t either, X.”

Masterlist

Ragtag

@yaachtynoboat711 @chaneajoyyy @bidibidibombaclaat @sarcastic-sunshines @great-neckpectations @wakanda-inspired @klaine15689  

(This will be a series, so just ask if you wanna be tagged!)

[pongpalace]

blood is thick after all

Day 2 of #omgcpwomenweek: Friendship

Major warning for descriptions of menstruration and all the fun things that come with it. unbeta’d as per ush.  

also on ao3

Esther is is in her Society of Modern Day China lecture when she feels it happen; a muscle contracts deep below her belly and from there a warmth spreads down. She knows it won’t help anything, but Esther presses her thighs together and kegels like her life depends on it.  

She’s had cramps since the night before, a wild craving for chocolate for the past two days, and has just got her pre-period breakout under control so getting her period isn’t completely unexpected.

But she had read her schedule wrong last when she was packing her school bag and realized it was Tuesday and not actually Wednesday as she was scarfing down breakfast. While rushing around to repack her bag with what she needed for the day, Esther hadn’t had time to put in her diva cup, something that she tried to do when she thought her period was close to prevent something like getting her period in the middle of the a three hour lecture. Or rather, at the start of the three hour lecture; Dr. Hsiung has just clicked past the introduction slide to today’s topic.

Esther sighs. She tries to move her lower body as little as possible, keeping her knees pressed firmly together, while she bends forward to drag her backpack closer. She unzips as slowly as possible so she doesn’t distract from the lecture. She’s already dreading having to be that annoying person who gets up while the professor is speaking to go to the bathroom. She hates to leave a lecture, especially when Dr. Hsiung is generous enough to gives two breaks at the top of every hour, but Esther knows her flow well enough that she doesn’t have long before the situation turns dire.

Esther’s successfully in quietly getting her hand into the pocket where she normally keeps her diva cup. She’s unsuccessful in finding it though.

“Shit,” she mutters, only starting to panic when she can’t feel a tampon or pad wrapper in the pocket either. The feeling of dread grows substantially as she remembers last month  when she used her last extra pad for the end of her flow; remembers making a mental note to restock. Evidently she forgot.

She sits back in her seat, tilting her pelvis so that gravity doesn’t quicken the process blood leaving her vagina. She knows it’ll be a lost cause once she stands up, but she wants to have a plan before she does. Esther picks up her pencil and quickly writes down the subheadings on the slide Dr. Hsiung is showing, so at least she’ll be able to look up what they talked about in class, all the while considering how best to deal with the situation in her pants.

Leaving and going home to get something isn’t an option until the break period. Dr. Hsiung won’t mean to embarrass her in front of the class, but she will ask where Esther is going if she gets up in the middle of lecture and brings her bag with her. Esther has seen her do it before. So that means if Esther leaves to go to the bathroom now, she’ll have to come back, probably with the knowledge that’s a blood stain on the seat of her pants—which sounds very close to what Esther imagines hell to be like. She had her fair share of period mishaps in middle school when she was learning how to deal with it, and it’s a hell of a lot of worse to know you’ve bleed through. Ignorance is bliss and all.

Esther is about to send out an SOS text to all of her friends in hopes that someone is nearby with a stash of period products when someone taps on her shoulder. Esther instinctively looks down first, checking to see if she spent too long thinking about what to do and is now sitting in an obvious puddle of blood that other people can see. She’s in the clear, but is still apprehensive when she turns.

She doesn’t immediately recognize the face of the girl who tapped her shoulder; all of her attention is on the pad that she’s holding out for Esther. The girl shakes the pad a little when Esther doesn’t immediately take it. Her smile is kind enough that Esther can’t even find it in herself to be embarrassed that she takes a pad off a stranger without saying thank you, glad that her row is practically empty so she doesn’t need to step over anyone to get out of the classroom.

Once, in the hallway Esther wants to run down to the closest bathroom, but her underwear feels weirdly heavy so the fastest she’s able to move is an awkward waddle. She almost jumps out of skin when an arm sneaks past her to push the door to the women’s bathroom open.

It’s the girl that gave her the pad, still smiling kindly. She gestures for Esther to go through.

“Uh, thank you,” Esther says. She mostly means for the pad; she’s very confused as to why the girl decided to come open the door for her.

“Of course,” the girl replies, cheerfully. “I’m Sam by the way.”

“Esther,” Esther says, nodding awkwardly. She really didn’t come into the bathroom to talk so she takes a step towards the stalls but Sam doesn’t take the hint and continues,

“Look, this is really awkward but um, you’ve bled through?” Sam says, looking apologetic.

“Yeah.” Esther blows out a breath through her nose, she knew it was happening but having it confirmed really sucks. There’s no doubt that now she’ll have to make a walk of shame back into the classroom to get her backpack so she can leave to change into clean clothes. She wonders if this’ll be the week Dr. Hsiung posts her powerpoints online so she doesn’t miss out on any lecture material. “I’m just gonna go-” Esther gestures towards the stalls and Sam nods, biting her lip and looking just as awkward as Esther feels but doing nothing to change it.

Once she’s locked in the stall, Esther pulls her pants down and sits on the toilet, bracing for the murder scene in her pants. She soaks up as much blood as she can with the thin toilet paper before she peels open the pad and hopes that it’ll stick to her slightly damp underwear. She wipes away more blood before flushing and pulling her pants back up. She still feels gross, but having the security of a pad makes her feel like the walk home is manageable, even with a stain covering half her ass.

Sam is still leaning against the sinks when Esther goes to wash her hands, but she’s no longer wearing the flannel that she came in with.

“Here.” For the second time, Sam is holding something out for Esther to take. Again, Esther just stares at the offered item until Sam shakes the flannel. “Take it! You need it more than I do I think,” Sam says, not unkindly. Esther takes it but isn’t sure what Sam wants her to do with it until she motions like she’s tying something around her waist and oh .

“I don’t want to get blood on it,” Esther says, touched beyond belief by how nice Sam is being. Her fingers unconsciously clench in the soft fabric of the flannel.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m used to getting blood out of clothes,” Sam says, shrugging.

“Um.” Esther really isn’t sure what to make of that comment, but she swings the flannel so the body of it would cover her bum. Sam’s eyebrows go up as she realizes what she said and her cheeks colour.

“Oh jeez, not like murder blood,” she says. “I’m on the rugby team and get a lot of bloody noses during games.” Sam shrugs. “Plus y’know, my period comes when it wants to so I’d ruin at least one pair of undies if I didn’t know how salt and cold water lift blood stains like nothing else.”

Esther snorts and finishes tying the sleeves around her hips. Sam tweaks it slightly before leading the way out of the bathroom. They walk half the hallway in silence, Esther waddling slightly again so as to not dislodge the pad.

“If you wanna go home and change, I can lend you my notes later,” Sam says suddenly. “They’re usually decent.”

“Holy shit, you’re a real life angel,” Esther replies, completely serious.

Sam barks out a laugh. “No, I’ve just been where you are and it sucks. Look, give me your number and I’ll text you when this is finished and if you’re up to it, we can meet for coffee or something.”

Esther stares at Sam for another beat before handing her her phone and letting Sam text herself off it. She rushes back into the classroom and to her seat, throwing her notebook into her backpack as quietly as possible, before mouthing something along the lines of “family emergency” to Dr. Hsiung as she leaves the classroom for good this time.

Meeting Sam after lecture has ended and Esther has showered and put her diva cup in is much less awkward that Esther expected.

Coversation between them is easy and coffee turns into dinner, turns into adding each other on Facebook and Snapchat and Instagram; turns into the story of how Esther met her best friend.

After all, blood is thick or whatever.

[wastedwishesandhope]

Menace

She’s stuck in her seat still remained quiet; gasping for air, biting her tongue like a breathless man on a diet. Between her shadows and the crowded street, a frozen shoe stilled, warming somebody’s feet. Bleeding sky of dusk flowing all around her and a majestic vibrant of sunset rays occur, which everybody prefers. The radiant light shades painted on her skin. It glows on her flesh. It was yet another round of normal day but the sudden explosion of the news almost imploded her mind, losing her sane.

“We should think positively that this isn’t connected to your man, Anna. I can feel it! This news has nothing to do with your boy,” Deby assured kept concealing the name in order to keep their conversation safe and out of controversy. She was scrolling on her social media reading different articles posted by different media platforms. The whole industry was bombarded with questions and rumors who might be the man on the blind item.

Anna read the headline and it already makes her so nervous. The main article was giving a subtle hint about an injustice death of a particular fan and the murderer’s still on a loose. Adding shady information that it was an idol. She tried to ignore it, but the more it reaches the whole community of the mortal world, the more she couldn’t stay still knowing they can’t be sure unless proven.

She took a deep breath, followed by shrugs. “I can’t relax. I can’t help myself from worrying. I really just wish this article was not about him,” she said and kept both of her palms pressed on top of her knees. The bench under the red tree where they’re sitting to rest shaking violently when the pressured girl unconsciously moves her feet to keep herself calm.

Its past 5 in the afternoon, Deby and Anna both sitting after completing the requirement for the upcoming graduation. The fret girl kept her folder on her arms while listening to what her friend was saying.

 “You think he can bear to kill their own fan, Anna?” she asked.

 She took little deep breaths. Does she really think he can do that? Does Park Jimin was really able to kill his own fan? Was he that desperate that he could kill somebody who wasn’t just a normal person, but a fan itself? Does she really know him that much where she can reassure he wouldn’t able to do that?

 “I absolutely don’t know what to think, Deb. I am too preoccupied with all these thoughts and I think I’ll start to lose a screw in my brain if I keep on thinking for all the ‘what if’s’,” she explained flailing her hands on the air.

Deby watched her friend getting distraught. “Well, maybe the least we could do is to trust. And besides, it hasn’t confirmed yet! What are we so loud for?”

 Ann hit her friend on the arms. “It’s your fault. You brought this up! You know how this could raise a red flag for my silly mind.” Deby just laughed at her, trying to lighten up the mood.

 Both girls stiffened when a familiar voice suddenly appeared from the back of the bench. Their heads turned in unison and Anna gulped in surprise when she confirmed who it was.

 “Aren’t you going home yet?”

 It’s Lee Gikwang. Together with their former classmate Yoon Doojoon who looks surprised to see them again. He obviously doesn’t have any single idea of the heated argument of his friend and the girl they just greeted. The look in his eyes kept the embarrassment he still felt after the mortifying incident which he didn’t know was made by Park Jimin. He almost peed himself after that day.

 “Just resting for a bit,” Anna answered, blithe. She stood up to gather her belongings. Deby felt the sudden action so she also stood up and picked her bag, preparing to leave. She knows how awkward the situation is. She knows how her friend Anna turned him down.

 “We’ll give you a ride if you let us to,” Gikwang offered still trying to get their interest for a short conversation at least.

 Anna turned around to face them both and plastered the most genuine smile she could muster right at the moment. “That’s very kind of you but I bet you know what will be the answer,” she humbly said.

Shivers run down her spine when he cryptically wore an aloof grin.

 “Yeah, I know,” Gikwang replied back and took a deep breath. She watched how he pushed both of his hands into the pocket of his jeans and looked around as if it was the relaxing thing to do. “I just suddenly realize Anna that I don’t want us to end on a sour note. I felt so overwhelmed that time and I don’t want to leave a memory to you about how I wanted you to remember how broke I was when we parted our ways. I wanted to modify the last memory you could keep about me and I wish you will let me do that.”

 Deby and Doojoon both shared a look then turned their eyes back to their friends. Clueless about what they just heard from the guy. Anna just nodded her head.

 “I understand, but I hope you will also try to understand that the situation we’re living in isn’t normal. You knew things you shouldn’t have and I don’t think I could trust you even for a little percent. I know you don’t mean harm but… it’s not that easy to be around with you anymore. Again.”

 Doojoon suddenly cut off the awkward atmosphere and sudden confrontation so he stepped in between and held his hands up.

 “Can somebody please enlighten me with all these crap? Because I don’t know what’s going on. Has something happened between you two?” he asked looking so perplexed.

 “I think you better stay out from this, Doojoon. It’s not like you will understand everything in just one fed!” Deby answered him instead.

 He turned his head back to his friend. “Are you keeping things off from me now?”

 “I think both of you better back off now.”

 Deby flinched in when she heard a voice right behind them. Anna’s head snapped to turn around when she felt the sudden gust of wind which she fairly knows wasn’t normal compared to the usual blow of the air. Chilled feeling run down her skin and spike through her skin. The impact his presence made scares her after the thought that he’s practically standing in front of the man who knows his true identity. Anna gets terrified that Jimin might find out about Gikwang’s info about him. She’s scared he might go off and do something he’ll regret the most after.

To her surprise, she found out he came over with his friend Kim Taehyung. She holds onto her boyfriend's arm to make sure she can prevent any chaos that might occur. She looked at Taehyung from behind with eyes asking what the hell they were doing in public.

Deby secretly pinches Taehyung’s side, eyes wide open with surprise and disbelief.

 “What are you doing here?” Anna whispered to him but his eyes remained on Lee Gikwang. Park Jimin was wearing a good black cap to cover his bright hair which might grab attention and a face mask to completely conceal his identity. Same goes for Taehyung who wore his hoodie jacket and a face mask.

 Doojoon’s eyebrows furrowed and stare back to Park Jimin. He was trying to recall where he had heard his voice because he’s sure he already met this guy before. Somewhere. But he couldn’t see his face so he can’t still be sure. However, Lee Gikwang recognized the man right away without looking at his eyes. The vigorous presence of him could easily identify who he is without seeing his entire face.

A faint smirk occurs at the corner of his lips and only Jimin caught that.

 “Do I know you?” Doojoon asked, still feeling disturbed.

 Anna tried to wag off the interaction by pulling his arms to leave but he remained stoic and immobile. She’s nervous that Doojoon might remember he was the guy who pulled a prank on him before.

 “C’mon Jimin, let’s go,” she whispers but the man acts like he had never heard any single sound around him.

 “You do really look familiar,” Doojoon added.

 “N- No! You haven’t met him before,” Anna answers back. An unconvinced look flashed on his face but he thought why would she lie though in the first place?

 “You picking up your girl? Oh, I mean your princess?” Gikwang suddenly asked. Anna felt her throat dried. She looked back at him with a stun on her face. She literally felt her heart skipped a beat and her face went paler.

 Did he really say ‘princess’ in front of Jimin?

 The rest of them looked at Gikwang then back to Jimin.

 “Yes, just making sure she’ll get home safe.” Park Jimin answered. At some point, Anna felt like his words sound edgy and shady. And she’s curious why Park Jimin doesn’t seem bothered when Lee Gikwang just literally blurted out the word ‘princess’. That’s the sign word to know that he knows something was really up, but why does Jimin didn’t go ballistic yet?

 “I don’t know why I sensed that you’ll gonna be here today out of the blue,” Gikwang said. There she finally lost her mind.

 She stepped in between the two boys and threw them a look back and forth. Never in her wildest imagination that she will stand between the two of them. She can feel an impending doom.

  “Wait, hold on, do you know each other?” she asked.

 “Not yet, unless you’d introduce me to your friend,” Jimin said.

 “Save your word, Anna. I’ll do the work for you. I’ll introduce myself to him, again.”

 “AGAIN?!”

 As if they didn’t hear her high- pitched voice, Gikwang extended his hands to offer for a shake hand but Jimin just stares at his long fingers, don’t have any plans of touching them even.

 “Sorry, but I just washed my hands. Don’t wanna stain them.” That strong blow made them gulped in unison. Doojoon jaw fell and his face looks like he just heard a bomb.

 Lee Gikwang just laughed awkwardly and his eyes scanned the whole area which seems like he’s more trying to compose himself and controlling the huge explosion bubbling up inside him. Anna watched him shaking his own hands like he was dusting it off then said without looking back at him, “That’s fine. Don’t wanna touch someone’s hand who’s the last person who touched the most special person in my life either.”

 Fist clenched, jaw tightened. Park Jimin kept himself cool.

 Anna’s shoulder fell back and her legs unconsciously walked closer to the guy. “What do you mean by that, Gikwang?”

 Lee Gikwang lifted his head up to meet her eyes. It was full of uncertainty, scars, and fear. Exhaustion was written on her dark pupils and he couldn’t see the glow which made him fell in love with her before. It’s gloomy, plain and colorless now.

 Their staredown cuts off when Jimin grabs her hand and pulled her away from them. He dragged her with his head down to avoid meeting the public’s eye. They might get suspicious once someone had recognized who he is. Deby and Taehyung both followed them while Gikwang left emotionless and Doojoon remained clueless and confused.

Park Jimin quickly opened the car and most likely threw her off to get her inside. He then immediately shut it close then turned around climbing in the driver’s seat and sped off leaving Kim Taehyung and Deby inside the university campus.

 “What the fuck?!” Kim Taehyung yelled. He tried to run to follow them but his friend probably stomped the gas and intentionally leaving them without saying a word.

 “Where are they going?” Deby asked panting from keeping up with them.

 “I don’t know but he’s a jerk. He left without saying a word! How am I supposed to go back to the dorm? I don’t have my wallet with me! He practically left me penniless even though he knows I can’t go anywhere in this!” he complains, kicking the rocks on the ground.

 Deby took a deep breath and put her hands on her waist, standing with a look like she’s so done.

 “And for the record, you can’t wander around as Kim Taehyung.” She rolled her eyes. “But wait, care to explain what the hell brings you here? For all the people, you should know how risky you’re move was. Anytime, someone might catch you in public and mobbed at you!”

 Taehyung scratch the back of his neck. “Not my fault though. I have just tagged along when I heard he’ll gonna drive here in your school and I insists on coming with him because—uhmmm..”

 “Because? What?”

 “B—because we’re just done with the practice and I don’t have anything to do and I have been craving for steak and cheese.” Then he flashes his legendary box smile which just made her shrug.  

  —  —  —

  Hands on her chin, and elbows pressed against the table. Deby watched him munching the huge sandwich he could eat even he doesn’t have money and did all sort of pleasing just to let Deby treat him for this one. She struggles though, since she’s saving up for any sudden release of merchandises or announcements for an upcoming tour of Bangtan.

But there she is, watching the member itself eating the food SHE paid. She’s now literally living the saying, ‘the fans are feeding the seven of them through albums & concerts.’

He seemed hungry and she just stays there, with a coffee she ordered right across where they’re staying at. Her mind somehow floating about the thought he just said.

 “But I still don’t get why would Gikwang wants to hurt my friend. I don’t think he’s that shallow to kill her instead because he can’t have her. I mean, I don’t think he’s gone crazy because he had just gotten dumped?”

 Taehyung nods his head with a mouth full. “I don’t know. I don’t have any idea about that guy. It’s my first time meeting him. I don’t even know him that much so I couldn’t judge him. But Jimin clearly saw how he tried to kill Anna. He said that she was hanging for her dear life from a top building, and he’s there waiting for her to totally fall over and die. If Jimin saw that, which only means he’s really planning to kill her.”

 Deby knocked over the one glass of water in one big gulp and rubbed her arms to keep herself calm.

 “I really can’t see Gikwang doing that. Can’t even imagine it.”

 Taehyung stopped for a minute. “What bugs me more was what he means when he said something about Jimin being the last person who touched a very special someone in his life. I really don’t get it? Do you have any idea?”

 Deby shook her head. “I was thinking about that too. He’s hiding something under his sleeves. And also, how’d he found out about Chim’s--- Jimin’s… that. .  . you know what I mean.”

 “Even Jimin couldn’t think of anything to answer that. Unless he’s been following him around all these years. But in order to do that, you gotta be extra careful and sensitive. Our boy’s not a normal human being. He can sense threat 50 miles away.”

 Deby slouched from her seat and pulled a deep breath. “This life is seriously cracking my skull into half. I don’t think this will ever be gonna normal. I mean… you know for a fact that he’s different from us and we couldn’t stay like this forever. Imagine, he’s older than us, and he doesn't age. How can we let our skins shrink and grow white hairs when he’s still left looking and glowing as a 23-year-old boy?”

 Kim Taehyung looks unbothered as he continuously munching over his sandwich.

 “Tell you what, I’ve been thinking of that thousand times. But there’s nothing we could do about it. We’re just being pensive knowing there’s no resolution for that. I’ve already mastered the degree of over thinking and I passed that already so I don’t have plans of enrolling back to it together with you,” he sarcastically said.

 The expression on her face washed over with sadness. “I know. Couldn’t help to think about my best friend. How her life would be after 10 years? 20 years? 50 years? When basically she literally can’t grow old with him,”

 “Stop making me depressed, Deb.”

 They both fell in silence for good one minute.

 “Didn’t know it would feel weird to get a free food treat from a friend,” he suddenly blurted out. She looked at him, weirdly. “Since becoming an idol, it’s always me who treats my friends for lunch, or snacks. I mean, it’s me who earn bucks more than them and I don’t complain either. That’s why… it feels weird now that I’m eating a food which was a treat from a close friend outside Bangtan group.”

 She felt her cheeks warm and stared at him when he bites a portion of his sandwich.

 She cleared her throat, suppressing the awkward moment. “It’s just because I don’t have a choice. You practically beg for it! It’s not like I insist to treat you for a snack, and aside from that you look famished and I don’t wanna forever carry alone the guilt feeling if you die of hunger. So you better make sure you carry around your card or a few bucks because there’s probably no more next time. Unless I got a job and started earning for good.”

 Taehyung chuckled.

 “Do you have someone special in your life?”

 She was caught up with the question and almost choked with her own spit. She didn’t see it coming. It was suddenly awfully weird why he was asking that kind of question. She tried not to assume and jumped into conclusion, it might break her bones up until her tendons.

 “Yes,” she coolly answered.

 Taehyung looked up at her.

 “Yes, me. I’m awesome. I think I’m the one.”

 He started wheezing.

 “Why? You practically promoted ‘Love Yourself’. That’s what I am doing right now. What’s wrong with that?”

Kim Taehyung just shakes his head laughing. She let him finish to laugh and when his face started getting serious, Taehyung stared down at his sandwich then opened his mouth to speak.

 “I think. . .”

 Deby innocently looked back at him.

Listening.

 “I’d miss you even if we’ve never met. . . Deb.”

   —  —  —

 Jimin pulled the car next to a park with few kids who are still playing after school hours. Some of them running around with their parents while some are teenage student who either went out with their friends or special someone. They stayed inside the car in silence. His hands still tightly gripping the steering wheel while Anna waited for him to start speaking and kept her mouth closed. Just watching him breathing fast as if they just had run.

 She couldn’t fathom the look on his face. Her eyes travel from his black locks sticking on his ears, down to his jawline which she always wanna touch up to his nose and back down to his trembling lips. It was too late when she found her hands made its way up to his arms, to touch it, to caress him.

 She knows and she can feel that he was terrified but she knew better. There’s something going on but she doesn’t want to stress him out. She got tons of questions but she doesn’t want to push her way up to the truth.

 Park Jimin jolted up on his seat when he felt the electricity coming from her touch. He was like pulled out from a pit hole and just came back to the real world. He looked down at her fingers gripping his arms, and despite his jacket, he could feel her warmth,

 “Are you okay?” she asked.

 Jimin tried to meet her eyes but he immediately cuts it off and looked down instead to her other hand which remained steady on her lap. It was long and he wants to intertwine their fingers. To feel her. To know she’s there.

The thought of her image hanging from a top building constrict his heart and imploded his mind.

 “Please… say a word, angel,” she whispers.

 Jimin took a deep breath and closed his eyes trying to remove the morbid sight of it. When he flutters them open, he felt relief when the first thing he saw was her face.

 He nodded. “Yes, I’m good baby. I’m sorry. Did I scare you?”

 She shook her head. “Not at all. Just worried. You seem too preoccupied.”

 Anna remembers the latest controversy among idol stars. She wanted to ask but doesn’t know how.

 “Can I ask you something?” she tried. She shifted in her seat to face him properly. Jimin moved a little to look at her also. He seems calm now and his eyes pinned only at her eyes. Memorizing every feature of her as if he was planning to paint her on a white canvas.

 Anna mustered all her thoughts first and started opening her mouth but Jimin cuts her off immediately.

 “You don’t have to ask me, princess. My answer is no and yes.”

 Her face didn’t show any surprise, but she couldn’t conceal her disappointment. She didn’t even get to ask the questions properly. Park Jimin move closer to her then held her crown to kiss the top of her head.

 “Baby,” he calls. She looked up at him. “If your question was if I have to do something about the current issue of a murderer idol, my answer is no. I don’t have any idea about it and I can guarantee you that it has nothing to do with me.” He tucked her hair behind her ears then smoothing some tangled few strands.

 “And if your next question is if you can trust me, my answer will always be a yes.”

 Anna smiled at him. It was genuine and pure. It sank his heart and the sight makes him drown in the weirdest emotion he could ever feel.

 “Now, can I ask you back?” he said.

 “Of course, anything,” she replied.

 Park Jimin hands traveled to her legs to yank it closer to him and he arranged her position so she could comfortably look directly into his eyes. Her eyelashes curved like a gentle stroke made by very artistic hands. The eye who’s pinning his soul screams perfection and purity. It was always the look he will never get tired of watching. The way how it moves looks like a ballerina dancing into a calm song in the middle of a blizzard. Trembling, yet fighting.

 “Up until when are you gonna trust me?” he asked.

 Her heart soars. “Up until you still trust me that I trust you, and even if you don’t trust me anymore I will still trust you.”