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jodilin65 · 4 years ago

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THURSDAY, DECEMBER 31, 2020 On with my last entry for the year. A year that was shitty for the world in general but ended up working out well for us.

I figured that if we’re going to have to wear a mask for a while longer, I might as well do it in style. So I ordered a light pink mask with rhinestones and a multicolored sequin mask.

Just finished a suspense book by Cole Baxter about a crazy old lady. Now I’m reading a kidnapping mystery by Gillian Jackson.

I guess this is going to be it for the year because there really isn’t anything else to update on.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 30, 2020 As our upcoming move gets closer, I get a little more emotional. In a good way, of course. I started packing up some more shit but most of what’s left has to wait until the very end since we still have to live our lives while we’re here.

Soon enough we’ll be one of those annoying planes flying over this place. They’ve been an on-and-off thing as usual. For three days they were annoying as fuck but I haven’t heard them today. Just some small planes.

We talked some more and we’re very likely to start off in the middle of the state where the space rent is cheaper. The place will probably be kind of dumpy and might not even have a pool but this way we have a chance to get grounded, get a feel for the place, how the climate affects me, and then decide whether or not to head for the coast or get some land. It would be nice to have another park to compare this one to even though I’m guessing some things will be the same such as loud vehicles and power tools. Hopefully, we won’t hear it as much if we can get into a smaller park on a less-traveled street.

My chocolate chip cookie incense smells great. It’s mild but definitely great smelling.

My book was not pirated. I forgot that when I joined Smashwords nearly a decade ago they were affiliated with Scribd. I also forgot that I had two different Smashwords accounts. I was confused as hell when I logged into one of the accounts and found that nothing was published there. I had Renting Ginny published for a while but removed it because I barely made a few bucks after a long time. Turns out the account Evil was on was under an email address I no longer have. But I finally got ahold of someone on both sites and someone on Smashwords told me they contacted Scribd with a removal request. So hopefully they will honor that request! If not, then I guess the story will just sit there.

I’m glad I used my middle name when I made the mistake of publishing stuff since I don’t think most people would think to Google me with my middle name included. When I Google my first and last name, nothing comes up. It’s only when I Google my full name that links to Goodreads and anything connected to my book comes up. I’m going to put myself on as much of an “internet lockdown” as I can during the move in case anyone we may get a place from decides to Google me and might not like what they find. I don’t know what might come up with a paid search but I wouldn’t think anybody would be that curious so I’m not worried about it.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 29, 2020 It just occurred to me that I didn’t hear from Scribd yesterday. It could be due to the holidays, but I really doubt I’m going to hear back from them. The question is whether or not to take some other course of action or just let it go. I’ll probably just let it go since whoever/whatever is behind it can’t be making any more money than I did and that certainly wasn’t much. It’s just that it reminds me of how I’ve always felt that I’m not only not meant to make money but meant to be a profit to others. Oh well. Still can’t be much of a profit. If it isn’t a screw-up between sites and if it isn’t a random person, funny how the black bitch in Arizona is the first person to come to mind where that’s concerned. But would she be that sophisticated enough to pull it off? Would she be that stupid? Perhaps out of anger and the frustration of not being able to legally screw me again like she tried to do 9 years ago, she would. Don’t know if she would have come up with the idea on her own or set it up on her own, though, if she did have anything to do with it. But I’m sure she would get a real kick out of the thought of making whatever she could off of me at my expense.

I read online that applying ACV to AKs was recommended so I’m trying it on what I suspect is Bowen’s. Doubt it will do me any good, but it can’t hurt to try.

I was going to work on all three stories at once and then edit them when I was out of ideas but that’s easier said than done so I’ll finish the story I started last month before I tackle the others.

Guess I’ve gone from writing suspense that deals with obsession to suspense that deals with revenge! Let’s just say it can be kind of therapeutic depending on who the characters are. :-)

Some of them have been showing up in my dreams, like Termite Tammy. I killed her by kicking her really hard in the head only her blood ran dirt brown instead of red. I panicked soon afterward, realizing my fingerprints and other trace evidence would likely be found.

I left a message on Ruth’s wall yesterday. As in Marty’s wife. Her last update was in 2018 and I realize she could be dead since she would be in her 80s now. I looked and couldn’t find a grave or an obit on Marty, so if there isn’t one on him, there may not be one on her. Right or wrong, I acted as if she messaged me trying to apologize and work things out and I told her she had decades to do that, gossips too much, judges people by their past, was too judgmental, and that while I wish her the best it was too late.

I guess it was a convenient way to express how I felt albeit a bit of a dishonest one. I’m curious to see if anyone ever discovers it but I have a feeling they won’t. I guess the account has been abandoned. But maybe not. There are no visible posts between 2015 and 2018. So maybe she’s just taking a little hiatus.

When I got up, I found a message waiting for me from Becky. She decided to look for Mary Bernadette S from Valleyhead who went by Bernadette. She found the nearly 6 ft black woman in the form of an obituary from 2016. She died at age 48 and Becky is devastated. I guess they were closer than I realized. Bernadette and I weren’t close although we were enemies either.

So she died just in time to spare herself from the hell called perimenopause. But WHY??? I hate that most obits don’t tell you how a person died.

The Termite Tammy dream wasn’t the only dream I had last night. It seems that many people from my past came marching in one by one. Lots of Andy dreams lately, although I’m not sure why. I do miss him at times, but I could never resume our friendship. He is who he is, and I am who I am. Besides, it’s become a hard rule of mine not to do do-overs. You step out of my life or I put you out of it, you stay out of it.

Anyway, I don’t remember what he, Nane or Maliheh did in my dreams but I remember Molly even though it didn’t make much sense. She pointed to a bright orange-pink fleece blanket and said, “Isn’t that your blanket?”

I glanced over to where she was pointing and I was relieved to see that it was. I guess I lost some things or was worried someone had stolen them. I also had a feeling that Molly was hiding something and not being totally honest with me, but just like in real life, I kept my suspicions to myself preferring not to let people know that I know, am aware of, and notice more things than they realize.

Next, I offered her some old dolls I didn’t want, hoping she would take them off my hands. She did and I hugged her more because I was grateful for her making things easier on me than anything else. Her shoulders felt slender as we embraced.

Then there was something about me being chased by a dog, threatening its owner, and someone who was universally hated winning tons of money. Then Tom and I were seated at a long dining table with about a dozen other people in the room. He surprised me by defending me to them, saying that the person who won money was accused of doing the same thing I had to spend 24 hours in jail for.

“I had to spend a lot more than that,” I snorted.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 28, 2020 Sometimes I feel just as pissed or at least irritated with myself as I do with those that have given me a hard time in one way or another throughout my life. I just feel like I could have done more to prevent it, like I should have seen the warning signs, not been so nice… That sort of thing. So it’s like I blame them for screwing me and then I blame myself for how I handled them. But what’s done is done and oh how I have learned from it!

Once again Aly is saying that I, perhaps unknowingly or unintentionally, make her feel put in the middle when I bring up Kim or Molly and that’s why she’s been holding back on things she could tell me about them. Expressing my opinion doesn’t mean I’m trying to put anyone in the middle or persuade someone to go in a particular direction, but fine. She never has to discuss anything she doesn’t want to.

But how does she think I feel over the fact that she won’t give me her address, I’ve never seen a picture of her with Cam, and I don’t even know the guy’s last name? It’s hard for me to believe this is simply about her having doubts as to whether or not the relationship will last. She’s hiding something. She’s either afraid I’ll use the info against her somehow should I get pissed at her or Cam doesn’t exist.

I’m starting to feel like she’s complaining about me a little more lately and like I’m just not good enough in some ways even though she recently told me she always values our friendship. But first it was what I said in regard to Cam losing his cat, then she tweeted on her other account that I butt in unnecessarily, and a few other little things that are starting to add up and get to me. Is she trying to pick a fight with me or something? Well, I don’t “fight” anymore. I either get along with people or I don’t have anything to do with them. The only ones that will eventually hear from me one last time are the termites. I mean, of course I would contact more than just them if Tom died suddenly and unexpectedly and I was about to kill myself but I don’t bother to troll or fight with people like I used to.

Anyway, I told her she never has to bring up anything she doesn’t want to even though I would never insist she hold back on anything and I won’t bring up as much either. The less open someone is with me, the less I’m open with them. Not by design but I naturally can’t help but be more open if someone’s open with me and less open if someone’s not so open with me. It’s just how I am and a natural instinct of mine. In the end, Kim and Molly (I know she’s not done with Molly forever) are her friends so it’s not like I’m dying to hear about them.

I discovered something by accident as is how I usually find things be it objects or information. While I still think the smaller spot on my leg is the actinic keratosis (AK) I had on my arm and back, the big red patch may very well be Bowen’s disease. The good news is that even though it’s considered pre-invasive it seems just as treatable as AK and just as unlikely to invade deeper tissues of the skin and spread to other parts of the body. Doesn’t seem like anything that can’t wait until my April appointment. I just hope she can spray it with liquid nitrogen as she did with the AKs. Sometimes they have to scrape the skin.

I missed my wine after taking a break from it and just wanted to get out and also get a sweet treat, so we masked up and headed to Rite Aid yesterday morning. Armed with Moscato and a Milky Way bar, Tom suggested checking out the Christmas aisle before we left where everything was on clearance, and we found a couple of cute things for just $2.50 each. A color-changing glitter lamp that sort of reminds one of a lava lamp. The glitter is in a watery gel so that it stays afloat longer when you shake it.

Also got a cute doll called Emily with auburn braids and brown eyes. She wears pink and purple, my favorite colors.

The Mac was sluggish and I was having trouble clicking and dragging puzzle pieces during my puzzle walks, as I call them, so he upgraded it to Big Sur.

As we agree, zone minutes are more important than step counts and active minutes so I’m making sure to get those. That’s usually simple enough as long as I’m not tired. In fact, I usually get more than the daily recommendation.

As funny as this may sound, the quantity of my food intake seems to matter more than calories or what I eat. I rarely bother to count calories but I definitely pay attention to what I eat now that I’m getting older and make sure that 5-6 days a week I eat healthily. But it’s true that quantity really does seem to matter most for me. I think I would be more likely to gain weight on larger servings of fish and veggies than I would on just a few bites of high-calorie crap.

As 2021 approaches, we chatted excitedly about the possibilities that await us next year like how we’re going to go out of here and a big part of it is going to depend on who the house goes to. If we knew in advance exactly when we had to be out of here, it would be easier to get plane tickets and also control where we sit on the plane. But if we have to go about things the traditional way and deal with the escrow and not know exactly what’s closing when and what we need to sign when until the last minute, then it might be too expensive to fly since we couldn’t get the tickets in advance.

Time will tell if my vibes and dreams mean anything but despite having a pretty good accuracy rate, I have to assume they’re just dreams and guesses until and if I see otherwise.

I doubt the dream I had last night meant anything since I would never want to live on a beach. Close to a body of water, yes, but not on the beach. Yet in the dream, we had a circular bedroom that was mostly surrounded by a popular beach and I wondered how I would sleep during the winter when all the snowbirds crowded the beach right outside the wall of the bedroom. I then remembered our soundproofing plans and hoped they would work out!

The only other dream I remember was going to a male doctor that turned out to be a joke for some reason. So I went back to a doctor I was familiar with who told me my OH was causing my eyes to bulge at the sides and a little in front too. I asked her if my eyes could possibly pop out of my head and she had this dubious expression as if to say that yeah, they could. LOL

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 27, 2020 Only I could gain a pound on a diet but then again I didn’t exactly “diet” yesterday. I had a little more than usual plus a candy bar. Also, I crashed early and got up earlier than yesterday. Nothing I didn’t expect to happen, though. I knew my body would go into reset mode no matter what I did. Besides, if this was that easy, everyone would be doing it. It takes a lot of hunger and deprivation to lose weight which is why most people don’t. But I’m going to continue eating three full meals a day because it agrees with my tummy and keeps me from getting carried away. Been having a bit more processed stuff than I should too, so I’ll have to cut that back a bit. Really don’t want to have more than one processed meal a day.

Tom checked out the site with the funny name and took a look at the code behind it. It isn’t that they have an actual copy of my book but it’s used as bait along with many other things. It’s a phishing site. All they want is credit card info. They promise full access to various things if you pay a fee.

On Scribd, he found where I could file a copyright infringement complaint, so I did. I doubt it’s anyone I know and may not even be a person at all. I once had this book on Smashwords and there might have been a screw-up between the different sites. Because the cover is the original cover and the bio is old, whatever it is happened nearly a decade ago. I don’t know many people with the sophistication to pull something like this off other than Aly and I can’t believe she would do this to anyone no matter how pissed she may be at them. It just doesn’t seem her style. The termites, yes, if they had brains enough to pull it off which they don’t.

I’ve learned my lesson as far as publishing anything goes. If I could have made at least 10 bucks a day, it would have been worth whatever shit came of it but it’s not all bad because this way I can have fun writing just for me and not have to worry about using real names and changing this and changing that.

The other day, as I was lying in bed waiting for sleep, Shadow popped into mind again and I was racked with a sense of guilt and sadness over having to dump him as I did 28 years ago. I asked myself why the hell Andy and I weren’t smart enough to think of a shelter but then no-kill shelters didn’t exactly exist back then. But then maybe it would have been better to be put to sleep if he was only destined to get hit by a car or something like that. Technically, this would probably be a better way for any animal or human to go as opposed to dying of natural causes but we could never and would never bring the pigs to a kill shelter.

I’ve always wondered what became of him. I read that cats lose heat through their paws and can handle heat better than cold as long as they have shade, food and water. He could have gotten the shade somewhere but where would he have gotten food and water? He would have had to drink out of people’s pools and while they were plentiful, so were big dogs that were always left outside.

But still, I wonder. Did Animal Control pick him up and kill him? Did he get hit by a car? Did he get fed by various people every now and then? Or did someone adopt him? I really hope to hell the last possibility happened! I was reading back in my 1992 journal, and I forgot that we didn’t just drop him off in Paradise Valley but also threw his carrier over the wall of someone’s backyard that we thought may have been Stevie Nicks’ at the time. Don’t know if it really was or not, though.

Even though I was young, dumb, broke, naive and threatened with eviction if I didn’t get rid of Shadow and was just doing what I needed to survive, I felt heartbroken and I could definitely throttle Stacey. I know she was sticking to the rules she had to abide by but still, rules can be bent. You don’t have to break them but you could bend them and she definitely could have worked with me somehow to get into a “pet” apartment and pay the deposit. I also wish I’d been smart enough back then to think of contacting her boss.

Tom says there was nothing I could do about it, I can’t undo the past, so I shouldn’t beat myself up for it and that more than likely he was adopted. If not, people do feed strays. We’ve done it ourselves.

But I also realized that had I been able to keep him, he likely would have lived past 1997 when I quit smoking and I would be left to wonder why I never got better since I didn’t know that cats made me wheeze and congested until we got Simone.

I have hoped that there really is no such thing as an afterlife because a before life is enough. For a minute, though, I almost wished there was so I could tell him how sorry I am for being such a shit of a cat mommy as I was during his first two years of life. Yes, he could be plenty obnoxious at times but he was otherwise quite affectionate and lovable, and yet I treated him like shit at times and then dumped him like he was trash.

I hope to hell that when he was dying which was probably somewhere between 2005-2010 that the giant orange tabby I adored was put to sleep and didn’t die outdoors alone.

Speaking of that bitch Stacey, another story idea came to mind. Tom and I move but we return to Arizona of all places. And of all the millions of people living in Phoenix, we happen to end up next to Stacey and her husband. I spot her one day and recognize her so Tom and I agree I would go by a different first name and say I was from Ohio.

I get a piece of her mail one day and am curious to see if she recognizes me when I go to return it. She does but of course I always deny my true identity. Then I can play these little games with her until one day she actually invites me over for coffee and I pass out only to wake up realizing she drugged me and has locked me in a room. I’m held captive there while she tries to force the truth out of me. Eventually, Tom will come to my rescue!

So between the story I’ve been working on, this idea, and the revenge on the termite idea, I guess I’m not completely retired as a writer after all. For a while there I thought I would never come up with anything worth putting into print ever again.

Oh yes, the lady of suspense is going to have all kinds of unfiltered and uncensored fun using real names. I just hope we don’t get “karma’d” for our evil thoughts, haha.

Strange how I once couldn’t help but have a slight crush on Stacey even though she was a blue-eyed blond. Something about her voice, physique and mannerisms reminded me of Kate Jackson. I once told her that too, LOL. I’d be a total liar if I said she didn’t age well but I hate her fucking guts.

I usually write one story at a time and will write a chapter and then edit it, but I think I’ll just work on the stories and then edit them when I hit writer’s block which I still think will be most of the time.

“Did something happen to the saw dude or did someone complain about him?” I asked Tom and he thinks neither and that he simply finished his home renovation project.

Well, I hope so because I’m definitely enjoying not hearing that fucking saw! In a lawless land, I would have gone over there, yanked it out of his hand, and chased him around the park with it.

“What happened to the loud car kid?” I also asked him and he thinks the kid outgrew that phase of his life.

That young and that fast? I don’t know about that one. I think he’s either dead, in jail, or more than likely moved out of the area.

Aly says Molly totally believes in her mind that she and I never had a problem. Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. The mentally ill are often delusional. Also, I remember how she used to act like she and Kathy were best buddies having only last spoken recently when in fact it had been months or maybe even years.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 26, 2020 I wasn’t kidding when I recently told Aly that it was a nice breath of fresh air to have a friend who was younger and smarter instead of the other way around as it usually was with other friends I’ve had.

Never heard of a torrent site before and when she told me she suspects my book was pirated, it made sense when I thought about it. If they steal music and movies, why not books too? I contacted one of the sites it’s on which is affiliated with NaNoWriMo as well as NaNoWriMo itself. I highly doubt it will do me any good, but I explained the situation to them about me and publishing it about a year ago and never agreeing to sell on Scribd. Plus there’s another site with a weird name that I know of, but I can’t click on any of the tabs and I wasn’t about to click on the download button without knowing if that could trigger some kind of attack.

It’s kind of weird how the pirated copy has the original cover and bio. Had to join Scribd to try to contact them but both them and NaNoWriMo don’t make it easy to contact them. I tried on Facebook and they gave me the automated run around so I finally tweeted to them. Again, I don’t expect a response let alone removal of the book where I left a comment saying who I was and that the book was pirated. You couldn’t comment without a rating so of course I gave myself 5 stars, LOL.

There’s no price set on my book, I noticed. Guess you get full access to it (and other books) with a paid membership? Would love to know when it was listed and if it’s anyone I know, though I doubt it.

The good thing is that if I didn’t make shit from the book, I don’t see why they would. I guess it happens to big-name authors as well. Either way, I highly doubt I’m going to be able to get it removed. It’s not worth putting any more effort into fighting it than I already did since it’s not like they’re going to really profit from it.

I went and unpublished We’ll Meet Again Someday which I had under a pen name just in case the same thing happened to that book even though I haven’t made a single sale or download in many months from that book. So if there are any more of my books out there, at least they won’t make more than a few bucks here and there. Others can feel free to do as they wish, but publishing just isn’t worth it to me.

I was glad to hear that her BF is going to get the vaccine in a few weeks. I know they’ve wanted to target health workers and old people first.

She got her dad the massager I got that I recommended to her and he really likes it. It is a good one!

Tom and I have noticed that my waist appears thinner lately. This is due to increased strength training and aerobics-like exercise. My “crunch line” is also more visible. That groove that runs from the sternum almost down to the belly button.

What worries me a little is that the spots on my leg aren’t growing in size but the larger one is darkening on the edges and is slightly raised. I just hope waiting until April doesn’t turn out to be a dumb idea that causes a whole lot more money and headaches later on down the road, but I’m not going to go running to the doctor for every little thing either. I wouldn’t be surprised if I had a few AKs on my scalp as well from what I can feel. Luckily, only 10% of them become cancerous.

I’m a little tired today because I was up forever like I sometimes am even though I managed to take care of the dishes and laundry and change Fuzzy’s cage. My God does that poor guy look horrible! I think he has more than one tumor too but with the way he acts and eats you would never know it so that’s good. Even if he didn’t have them, though, his days are still numbered because he’s now over two years old.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 25, 2020 My poor little ratty. :( Looks like the tumor has caused ruptured blood vessels. Yet amazingly, he still has plenty of energy and the same old appetite. He doesn’t seem to be in the least bit of pain, fortunately. He can’t have too many more months to go, though. It’s sad but an inevitable course of nature at the same time.

I’m really frustrated, irritated and confused right now after getting a Google alert on my name. I got an alert for a site where a copy of Evil Amongst the Evergreens is supposedly available. Nothing was clickable on the site, though, and I’m sitting here trying to figure out why the hell a book I unpublished is listed there. I also don’t like how you can get a lengthy preview, and then if you sign up for a free trial, you can read all of it for free.

What’s the point of unpublishing something if people can still get copies on sites I never heard of much less published my book on, and with absolutely no payment to me?

I never should have published anything, especially in my own name. That was really stupid! Not only are you giving potential trolls the perfect opportunity to fuck with you, but I should have known it wouldn’t be enough money to make it worth it. Better to just write for fun and that way I don’t have to worry as much about being as correct as possible.

This is turning out to be the most doable diet I’ve done in centuries. Not going so low-calorie keeps me from always being hungry. Not going low-carb keeps me from craving variety. Not spacing out multiple smaller snacks and meals also keeps me from being hungry. But it being doable is part of why I won’t get under that typical low of about 155. I’d have to be sick, thyrotoxic, or half-starving to lose more than a few pounds. No thanks! I like the way I feel on this menu and the fact that I definitely don’t have to worry about gaining weight.

The holidays are really throwing things off and disrupting our routine. Holidays were fine when he was working because then he got to enjoy the time off. Now all they do is mess things up. At least they’re minor inconveniences but because Walmart was out of some things, particularly lettuce which the pigs are low on, we tried to arrange to pick up an order at Sam’s yesterday morning. However, the earliest we could do this would be Saturday. So then we tried Amazon’s Whole Foods and were told the same thing along with another Walmart order we placed. So both Amazon and Walmart will be delivered within a few hours of each other that day. Tom was surprised to find how much cheaper than Walmart many of the prices on Amazon were, expecting it to be much more expensive. So we thought we would go ahead and give them a try.

I was looking forward to trying Sam’s lobster naan but I don’t think we’re going to be ordering from them. Walmart doesn’t have it but Amazon has Spanakopita which I like. I just don’t want to get too carried away with processed foods. Just because I’m having three larger meals with absolutely nothing in between doesn’t mean I want to load up on too much unhealthy stuff. Still gotta watch the cholesterol and sodium.

Over the last few days, I went from 157.8 to 157.4 to 157.0, and then yesterday I was 156.6 just like I am today. This is about when my body starts rebelling against additional weight loss, too. One way it rebels is to stop shitting but I’m having potatoes today so that should help.

Decided that rather than focus on step count or active minutes, I’ll focus on getting the 22 zone minutes they recommend getting a day. Not hard for someone with a high HR.

The planes didn’t go as crazy as I expected them to yesterday. Still expecting the death count to jump quite a bit after Christmas. I can’t wait to get to January! By then Trump will be out of the picture, we should be getting closer to getting vaccinated, and it’s the year we get the fuck out of here!

Dixie forwarded me (and a few others) a joke. So she’s still alive. Sometimes I think of emailing her. I do miss her and I do think of her but I also have to think of myself as well. I don’t want to deal with her drama and moods and put myself at risk of getting sick. She’s still around more people than we are. Unless it’s someone living alone with agoraphobia, I doubt anybody is as isolated as we’ve been. I’ll definitely email her before we leave.

In looking around at things and mentally deciding what we’re likely to leave and likely to take, I realized that the platform with the attached headboard shelves my mattress is on is our longest-running piece of furniture. We got it in Oregon 15 or 16 years ago.

Aly says Molly will no doubt eventually find a way to contact her, even if it’s through someone on Fitbit.

Ah, but will she be smart enough to ignore her? I still believe that Aly has a tendency to gravitate toward the mentally ill as Mary G gravitated toward abusers.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 24, 2020 I skipped yesterday’s meds as I mentioned before, and although I was better, I wasn’t 100%, so I was a little nervous about taking my meds today. I did, however, and I feel fine so far. Figured I wouldn’t make it to the end of the year without a problem, though.

At the beginning of my day today, I had that strange and disturbing feeling that could have been my heart A-fibbing, gas bubbles in my chest, or something else. I looked up the causes and found that they range from mild to severe. At least I didn’t feel like I was going to pass out or experience any other symptoms with it. I can see where it might be air bubbles since it did seem like it was something fluttering upward and reverberating in my throat. However, it was entirely different than heartburn or any kind of stomach or intestinal gas issues I’ve ever experienced. I don’t know what to think. I just hope it doesn’t make a regular habit of occurring, whatever it is.

It hit me that it’s silly to count calories independently of Fitbit. I can still have Fitbit do it. I just have to make sure that everything I eat during my day is logged on the same date. But I can still have it do the math for me. It isn’t just about calories but this way I can also see how much sodium and carbs I’m taking in as well.

I realize that with the exception of whatever we get for the house, we’ll probably be back to the days of being broke once we get to Florida because even though it’s cheaper there, we’re not going to have as much money. That’s okay, though. I don’t mind not having extra money as long as we’re still able to get the things we need. But I know he’ll want to work at least part-time to help with extras until he’s able to get full retirement and not just partial. Plus, I’ll get half of what he gets when I’m 65 even though that’s still worlds away.

Actually, Tom just told me not to panic over what I may read on Twitter or Facebook, saying that Trump is being crazy again and something about people being evicted and losing their Unemployment if he doesn’t sign a particular thing. He assured me that our retirement money is not only guaranteed for life, but he would also only work in the future for extras like if we wanted to go on a cruise. Also, our Unemployment is fine, so don’t worry about what I may read.

This is reassuring to know but I feel bad for those less fortunate than us. Only someone as rich as Trump would do such a thing, assuming everybody can afford to pay for their needs just because he can and has never known anything else. I almost wish all rich people could start off broke so they could know what it’s like and see that no, we’re not all the same. We can’t all make do with next to nothing.

It seems, however, we’re having the opposite luck than what we experienced when the economy went to hell. The collapse of the economy hurt us in just about every possible way that it could. We suffered big time and almost lost our lives because of it. However, the virus has seemed to actually help us. Oh, it wouldn’t be this way if he was under 62, though, that’s for sure! So if this shit had to happen in the first place, I’m definitely grateful for the timing. And that he was able to make so much money in his final working years, especially from the OT with the way it works in Cali. Making enough OT to live off of that alone is a big deal when it comes to retirement, but yeah, he was making around $30 an hour in the end there at certain times. Of course the new company owners would lay him off. That way they could turn around and hire someone at minimum wage. In the end, I sure as hell am glad they did lay him off because of the virus! Again, that was perfect timing and I had the opposite reaction when he broke the news to me than I had in 2011. Had he been just a little younger, we could have been really screwed. Same goes for if they hadn’t laid him off but just in a different way. But then I always did say that the noisier a place was, the harder it would be to lose. Well, Jesse and his mutts definitely weren’t this noisy. No place I ever lived was this noisy.

Either way, we’ve been spared from this latest world crisis. I don’t know if it’s because of any God, some other entity, or just because. I only know I’m grateful as hell.

Just went to get my Bing points and I wasn’t at all surprised to read a headline saying that despite pleas from health experts, people are ready to travel for the holidays and spread the virus so the daily deaths can become 5K instead of 3K. And of course I’ll be wide awake to listen to all the planes there will no doubt be flying overhead early this morning.

Tom said there were a lot of cars at Dahl’s place today. Everybody thinks they’re invincible.

One of the brands of nail stickers I got was Blulu and they kind of suck. They’re not sticky enough. Also, the pink plaid set looks more like flesh tone in person. So I took them off and applied a pinkish-red set with gold highlights by a better brand. They’re a little light and a little sheer but definitely have better sticking power.

Decided I’m not going to keep changing accounts every month on OD so I can keep writing there. It’s just not worth the hassle. When it comes to sharing, PB is enough.

Aly says she’s finally blocked Molly and is done with her because she’s gone Kim on her by being very selfish and bombarding her with tons of texts all about how miserable her life supposedly is. And this is after Molly deleted her on Fitbit. She says it’s hard to explain but she still has some compassion for Kim.

I would definitely rather associate with Kim than Molly any day. I remember when I was pretending to be someone else and connected with her on Twitter how she almost never responded to my tweets. It was only if I made the move first by responding to her tweets that she would talk to me. Molly is definitely very selfish and obsessive. Kim is obsessive too, though.

Once Molly realizes Aly’s done with her, I wonder if she’ll stalk her like it’s 2009 again. Or if she’ll try to seek me out to get to her through me. My guess is she won’t, though, because we don’t always react the same when something happens again. Besides, I don’t think she can find me anywhere other than looking me up on Facebook and that’s only if she remembers my last name.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 23, 2020 I’m now tracking calories independently of Fitbit. Because my days are split so often, I’m not getting an accurate count. The same goes for steps. However, I’m not really concerned with steps as long as I get the recommended daily zone minutes each day. I’m keeping track in Google Docs and having Tom double-check my math.

So far it seems easier to have fewer bigger meals. I made vegetable tortellini yesterday and it came out great. I would really like to get an idea of my daily calorie intake at least for a week or two because I’m curious to see how, if at all, this new way of eating affects me. My guess is that it won’t cause weight loss but will make it harder to gain. It comes out to approximately 1,200 calories a day.

I noticed my metabolism has sped up a bit but that’s likely for the same reason I felt a little anxious last night; my meds are ramping up in my system. I skipped today and it will be interesting to see if taking action right away means I won’t have to skip as much later on. If I could get it down to one skip per month, that would be ideal. That may be just a dream, but we’ll see. But to have a total of a little over a month’s worth of anxious days for 2020 is a definite improvement!

Now I just wish he would stop looking for work! When he talked about the job applications he’s been filling out, I reminded him that they said he didn’t have to look for work for many weeks but he says he doesn’t trust them. Yeah, the government is definitely not very trustworthy, that’s for sure. But we have a lot of money and I hate to see him work before he’s vaccinated. I would be concerned if he was young but I’m even more concerned with him being 63. He doesn’t actually want a job right now but still thinks it’s best to at least put some effort into it. Besides, not everyone wants an older white guy working for them not to mention the fact that sometimes he’s either under or overqualified. Some jobs have requirements he’s unable to or unwilling to meet like traveling.

The pigs started to get a little smelly so we changed their liners. Rockefeller’s wasn’t that soiled but Blitz’s was. We’ll probably only be changing them about six more times before they’re rehomed and I definitely want to use up the paper bedding first. I would rather have liners left over than regular bedding.

Fuzzy sleeps more but still has energy and definitely his usual appetite. He could live another three or four months but one rat is a lot easier to deal with than two pigs.

I remember a split second of a dream where I was in someone’s oceanfront house and it was so cool because the part of the walls that face the ocean was all glass. Whenever the tide was high, the waves would roll up against the lower part of the glass walls and was totally cool.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 21, 2020 They updated our DNA results on 23andMe, narrowing things down. They had him mapped as all over Europe, but they took off southern Europe for him even though he’s from many different places and is still a mutt, LOL. For me, they removed almost all of Europe. I’m 98.9% Ashkenazi instead of 99%. They had a fraction of a percent of me from Asia and Africa which has now been narrowed down to Manchurian & Mongolian. Never heard of Manchurian before.

Going to once again try Fitbit’s easier diet where you have a 250-cal deficit per day and lose half a pound a week. I thought about it and I’m pretty sure I was likely underestimating my food intake or counting wrong or making typos when logging food the last time around. Low thyroid or not, I’m still human and it should have worked, especially if you do it right. So that means I’m the one that screwed up somewhere along the line when inputting info.

For this grocery order, I got a bigger variety of food so I’m not stuck with just meat and veggies and will have fewer bigger meals rather than more smaller ones that don’t fill me up and that leave me feeling hungry until I eat again. I still don’t mind meat and veggies for the most part but this way I can throw in some variety along with it, so I don’t have cravings for different things. So two of my meals will consist of meat, veggies, and a small portion of starch of some kind like rice, pasta, or potatoes. My other one will consist of chickpeas, beans or soup. I’ll have a small kiddy yogurt when I take my statin to keep from getting an upset stomach. Plus there’s my morning coffee. Or whatever time of day or night I happen to get up.

At 6:30 I had two roasted chicken thighs and a cup of macaroni and cheese. I didn’t have any veggies with that particular meal, but I will with my next one which will be at 11:30. I’m spacing my meals out by 5 hours. It’s been 2 hours and I still feel satisfied. If I’d grabbed just a smoothie or just an avocado, I would probably be getting hungry again by now.

Reading that there are new strains of the coronavirus discovered wasn’t exactly a thrilling thing to learn. Hope it’s nothing that the vaccine still can’t handle!

I slept for an average of 7 hours and 43 minutes last week. The week before that it was 8 hours and 11 minutes and the week before that was 7 hours and 32 minutes. Most weeks seem to be 7 hours and something minutes, but I did have a week that was 6 hours and 34 minutes.

Had a dream that I had to stay somewhere but I don’t think it was any kind of jail or hospital since I was packed into a car with several other people heading somewhere. In the dream, I realized that I had counted wrong and I didn’t really have to be there for four thousand and something more days but actually six thousand and something more days. Even though this only equated to almost a year in the dream, I was deeply depressed by this realization.

Aly’s back to updating her other Twitter account but not very often. Damn, I wish I’d never reached out to Molly!

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 20, 2020 Went through the hutch drawers earlier and found more stuff I’d forgotten about. Some old family pictures neither of us give a shit about but agreed to keep, along with cards and letters from various people. I forgot that Marie once wrote to me. I’ve got some cards from Eileen, Aly, Rosa, my dear deceased Italian foster dad, and even a couple of postcards from Nane. I forgot that she actually sent me two postcards, one from Greece and one from Turkey. She sent one to Auburn and one here to “Zitronen Land.”

I read the German part to Tom as we were going through things and decided that even though we’re not friends anymore, I would keep the postcards. Some people I definitely regret knowing and some I don’t. Nane was fun and interesting for a while before her judgmental ways and bitchiness really got to me. Also, as ugly as German is, I sure did end up learning quite a bit of it, thanks to her.

I made a couple of interesting discoveries that I’m excited about whenever we get settled in the new place. First there was this thing you stuck your finger directly into that printed nail designs directly onto the nail. Those range from $500 to over a grand. I’m not fluent but I could get by if I were suddenly stuck in the middle of Germany, and that’s something to be proud of.

Still not wanting any chemicals on my nails, I looked to see if there was a way to design and print my own nail stickers and there is! It would be a little more expensive, but this way I could choose the exact designs I wanted and not have to worry about them going bad. You can even print family photos or pictures of pets!

I’m surprised I was wrong on the stimulus thing and that they’re going to give adults $600. To those who are really in need, $600 seems like such a fucking insult. You can’t even pay a month’s rent on that! What the hell is wrong with this country???

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 19, 2020 Wish they’d shut up already with the stimulus talk. We know we’re not getting shit, they know we’re not getting shit, so enough is enough with the bullshit promises! The American government simply doesn’t take care of its own. Never has, never will.

Decided to do some more sorting and packing. I went through the stuff in the hutch cabinets and tomorrow I’ll do the drawers. You don’t realize how much shit you have until it comes time to go through it and start packing it up! Things I totally forgot we had.

It’s still too soon to really judge the pig liners but these guys really frustrate me at times. Especially Blitz. Rockefeller hasn’t chewed on the liner, but Blitz has chewed his. Next time I may put down a bit of bedding on top of the liners and also hook the corners to the side of the cage beforehand. I hooked part of Blitz’s liner a little while ago, so we’ll just have to wait and see.

Tom applied for a few jobs just in case they tell him to start working again. God, I hope not! Not until this damn thing is under control and we’re vaccinated. But that’s the thing. Out of the things I have strong vibes on right now, his working in this state ever again is not one of them.

Had a bunch of strange dreams last night, one in which Aly and I met somewhere, and she told me my bad ear was ugly, LOL. Not something I can picture her telling anyone. I wasn’t offended, though, in the dream because I appreciated her honesty and agreed as well.

Then I had some weird dream about hiding from someone in a dark building where I rented a room or apartment of some kind. Someone was after me or the person who lived in the place before me, so I turned off all the lights and hid in the bathroom. The bathroom had two doors on opposite ends, so I quickly locked them just in time for a young woman to be shouting angrily and punching the door.

Then, after being glad I had backed my writing up, I realized I couldn’t find the story I was working on and that the backup had failed. I ran into Stacey from Arizona in a corridor somewhere and asked her if she could find my story. LOL

In another dream, I was finishing up a visit with Dr. A only instead of us leaving the exam room together, she remained seated at the computer after I rose to my feet and said “Bye” and proceeded to leave the room and she said “Bye” too.

Next, I was writing my parents a letter telling them I really like being in a liberal state where a guy could walk into a bar dressed in drag with no questions asked or something to that effect. While I was at it, I was listening to a song that was supposedly written right after gays and lesbians first got their rights and the lyrics said something like, “It was supposed to be a trial run, but 33 days later we still have our rights.”

In the last dream, I walked up to the front door of our place, and instead of the street being laid out like it really is, the saw cock was off to one side and Jesse actually lived on the other. As I approached the door, I could hear Jesse sawing away at something and was glad we would be moving soon.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 18, 2020 I am surprisingly awake today even though I did take a quick nap which I love to do when I can. The recycle truck hadn’t come by the time I got up, but the garbage truck did and amazingly, they never woke me up.

What did wake me up - unless I woke up and then smelled it - was what I could have sworn was Tom cooking something with a really strong smell. I told myself I was going to let him have it for that since he knows better. I’m not only the lightest sleeper when it comes to sounds but also when it comes to smells, so he makes a habit of not eating anything smelly when I’m sleeping. However, he was sound asleep the first time I was aware of it. It almost smelled like fast food. I also smelled it a few hours later. I doubt anyone else’s cooking would penetrate these walls as thin as they are, so I don’t know what it was. I mean even if someone was right outside the bedroom window which was closed, of course, eating a cheeseburger, I don’t see how I would smell it in the bedroom. Either way, I still woke up feeling refreshed.

My hip didn’t feel too bad, so we went out for a walk. It was warm in the sunshine, but the breeze was cool. I wore no hoodie over my sweatshirt. It was about 55 degrees. After our walk was when I took a nap.

Tom discovered these bamboo charcoal carbon disposable pee pads for guinea pig cages that we ordered and that arrived today. We place them in their cages and are anxious to see how they work out. It was $20 for eight of them. They’ve got great reviews. Yeah, we would find the best solution for them now that we’re a month or so away from re-homing them. Who knows, though? They could end up being a bust. The fleece liners weren’t as exciting as I thought they would be because the pigs weren’t nearly as clean with them and the liners weren’t as easy to shake out and clean as I hoped they’d be.

If these liners work out, I can give Fuzzy the last fleece liner and we can put the bamboo liners in the pig cage when we go to re-home them.

Rockefeller’s reaction was a little weird at first. Blitz didn’t have any problem with it but Rockefeller’s teeth were chattering and he was making the kind of chatter that signals distress in a guinea pig. We’re thinking maybe he just didn’t like the smell at first but then he quickly started eating and was fine.

Fuzzy’s tumor is starting to grow and he may have more than one, but he’s still able to get around and still eats plenty. He’s just sleeping a lot more.

We got a hydraulic hinge for the meter reader when they open the door to the crawl space. Maybe this will finally get them to stop slamming it like they’re pissed off. We can’t just leave it open because skunks and other animals could get under the house.

I also ordered 100 chocolate chip cookie incense sticks but those won’t be here till the end of the month.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 17, 2020 Looks like Aly stopped tweeting on her other account. Yeah, I’m not surprised. She probably set up a new one but I’ll never find it if it’s not connected to Molly. I’m sure she blocked my main account from it, too.

The largest of three spots on my leg now has a slight rise on one edge. Gonna wait until after the new year to decide what to do. Maybe I’ll take a picture of it and send it to Doc A through the portal and get her opinion on it, though she’s likely to tell me to come in. What I don’t like about this is that there are three of them and the largest spot is bigger than the one I had on my back.

I took a more peaceful route on our walk yesterday heading towards the back of the park rather than sticking to the main drags. Joe, the mailman, passed by us and we waved to each other and I said, “Long time no see!”

At some point, after we got back, I felt a little fatigued and lay down in bed figuring I would just close my eyes for a few minutes but ended up napping for almost an hour and a half. I love taking naps, but I remained kind of groggy for the rest of the day after getting up. Even so, I was up pretty late and slept a long time, causing my schedule to jump quite a bit. I slept something like 9 hours and 20 minutes. Slept till noon.

I dreamed of Bob. It was weird because it was like we were chatting like old buddies and even dancing happily together. Then there was some dream about my sheets being all torn and held together with duct tape and being hesitant to ask my parents for money to get new sheets, LOL.

It’s amazing that the house workers let me sleep since Tom said they were tremendously noisy on and off from about 8:30 to lunchtime tossing all the concrete they tore up into a dump truck. I’m both surprised and not surprised. I’m not surprised because they were working on the other side of the house opposite the bedroom but then I’m surprised that the loud vehicles going to and from the place didn’t wake me up. It’s still frustrating because I know this project is going to take weeks…and then there will be something else going on. Been here for over 7 years and I still can’t believe how fucking noisy this place is.

We ran out to Rite Aid using the cloth masks that Covered California sent us. I guess they’re supposed to be better than paper masks. He downloaded an app that will notify him if it’s discovered that anyone was in there at the time we were that ends up diagnosed with the virus.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 16, 2020 It still bugs me at times that Aly won’t give me any information about where she lives or share any pics of Cam. We’re not connected on Facebook (even though she said she hates it there anyway), I don’t know her address, there was no such doctor as what’s supposed to be Cam’s ex-SIL, and I’ve never seen a picture of her with any BF. I do have her phone number and I do have her parents’ address but still, her explanation as to why she won’t give me her address doesn’t make sense. Just because she doesn’t think she’ll be there long? But why can’t I see where she is in the meantime for however long she is there? And why would she not tell me exactly where she was on Vinton Street knowing she was about to leave there anyway? The length of time you’re going to live somewhere doesn’t seem like a legit reason to not at least let what’s supposed to be a good friend of yours check you out on Google Maps. Something just doesn’t add up.

But it’s still hard to believe she would make Cam up. To be making him up means she can’t get anybody. But then why would she not be able to get anybody? She prefers men to women and guys are easy. She wouldn’t have to be alone. If you’re a feminine woman looking for another feminine woman that would be different. But her not living anywhere for more than a few months doesn’t seem like a good enough reason to hold back, at least in my opinion.

Maria friended me and I saw that Becky was added as well. Then Becky mentioned being hacked and this made me think Maria was a fake account and that the account was somehow connected to the hacking, so I blocked it. But then Becky assured me it was genuine, and I unblocked Maria and messaged her, letting her know why she was temporarily blocked and asking how she was doing. She’s getting back on her feet after coming out to SoCal and getting screwed by the daughter she gave up for adoption and met for the first time. She found that the daughter was a big-time drug addict and hooker living on skidrow and she threw her out after just a few hours of meeting. Then I guess Maria hooked up with the wrong guy and threw her sobriety away as well as her Section 8 and medical. A little hard to feel sorry for at least some of the things she’s been through since she made her own bed and had to lie in it but I’m glad to know she’s doing better.

So I took the opportunity to ask Becky if Marie was still in New York and that while I loved and missed her, I couldn’t deal with the extreme mood swings, accusatory behavior, and paranoia.

She said she never experienced that with her but that she seemed warmer on some days and cooler and others just like anyone else. Yeah, but they never had the kind of relationship we did so I’m sure that’s a big part of it.

Becky says she creates new accounts after each failed relationship. Well, she must not have been in one for a while unless she’s using the same name for each account, which is never her real name, to create new accounts with.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 15, 2020 What the hell was that that my heart did this morning shortly after I got up??? As I was sitting there, I experienced what I’m guessing might have been A-fib but I’m not a hundred percent sure. Instead of vibrating quickly, though, my heart felt almost as if it was jumping. It was almost like I could feel it in my throat as well. It lasted 4-5 seconds and during that time I started to get dizzy and almost freaked out because I thought I was going to pass out. It probably wasn’t any big deal and hopefully, it won’t happen again anytime soon.

I took a picture of the red spots on my lower leg that I suspect may be pre-cancerous, so I have something to compare it to along the way between now and when I see my doctor in April.

The daily buzz goes on. The drone of the blowers throughout the park that don’t need to be doing the same spot every single fucking day, individuals having their lots done, the tractor tearing up the concrete where the new house is…I would want to scream or beat my head in the wall or both if I knew we weren’t moving next year! Today was probably the end of being able to sleep without being woken up since the loud traffic has been worse, partly thanks to the house workers.

We went on another noisy yet nice walk and this time for half an hour. I think my hip needs consistency as well as for me not to overdo the working out in order to keep the pain at bay. The problem is that when you’re tired so much of the time, you can’t be consistent. Maybe I could have been 20 years ago but not now.

For a while now I’ve had a vibe about getting breast cancer in my outer left boob, but I don’t think it will be any time soon. I doubt I’ll be under 65 if this really happens. It does run in my family and it is hereditary, so I suppose that I have just as much of a chance of getting that as I do of having a heart attack, stroke, or getting Alzheimer’s which also runs in the family.

It looks like one of the flower trees is blooming in someone’s yard as if it’s all confused by the warmer weather. Things don’t usually start blooming here until early March.

As I’m learning the hard way, nail polish strips have a shelf life. Did some research and it seems to be about a year. This makes sense when I think about it because nail polish in a bottle goes bad after a while, too. So I’m likely to end up with a lot of bad sets of nails and wasted money for hoarding too many at once. From now on I will order just one set at a time and stick with Wokoto since they fit the best and are the cheapest yet still of excellent quality.

It’s so nice to see Tom be able to enjoy his free time after working hard for many decades. So many things he wanted to do that he just didn’t have the time to do, mostly computer and electronics-related, of course. He deserves the break even though he is going to return to work sooner or later. Even though he wants to see about getting in with Amazon and then transferring to Florida, I just don’t “see” him working in Cali ever again.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 14, 2020 Woke up with a sore throat though I don’t see how I could possibly be coming down with anything because I’m one of the most isolated people I know. Earlier I had quite a bit of fatigue and was so cold, too. Finally had to really push myself to go out walking. It was a noisy walk too, thanks to all the damn landscaping. Also, they’re working on the new house for God knows how many more weeks. Can’t hear that much inside the house but their trucks coming and going could wake me up.

I realized lately that I haven’t had issues with tardive dyskinesia in quite a while now. It seemed to go on for so many years that I really believed it would never go away. Wish I could say that about my TMJ although it’s better again. I guess oiling my ear did help. The dry conditions really mess it up at times. Hopefully, that means it will be better in Florida. We might actually get rain again in a few days which helps my skin.

But that damn hip of mine is driving me crazy! In light of having more and more joint issues, I realize that I’m going to have to choose between pain and eating when I’m hungry or less pain and more hunger. I may not be “obese” per se, but I’m weighty due to my muscles. Losing muscle wouldn’t be good or easy since it’s natural for me, so in order to lighten the stress on my joints, I’d have to eat less. A LOT less and that would mean going hungry much of the time. Then I’d have to keep it up, for the most part, in order to keep the weight off.

Now, I do handle pain a lot better than I handle hunger. So it may be best to just look at it as I do with my ear. I don’t like it, but I’ve accepted that I’m going to have to live with on-and-off ear/TMJ pain for the rest of my life. Maybe I should have that attitude with the hip pain and continue eating when I’m hungry. After all, millions of others live full lives that are heavier than me. I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 13, 2020 Got some rain over the last couple of days and it’s made things so much more peaceful. Still hear a few planes and some loud vehicles but not nearly as much as usual. I hope the rain helps my skin because it’s been horribly dry lately as it’s been like a desert here. After today, who knows how many days it will be or even weeks before we see it again.

Yesterday we rearranged the living and dining areas but decided to leave the projector screen up for a while longer.

Back on the treadmill again and wondering why a brisk 3mph walk has me so winded all of a sudden. Today and yesterday I’ve experienced that suffocating feeling where I’m able to breathe but it’s like there’s no oxygen in the air. It’s weird. I guess I must have fallen that out of shape or something.

Plus, my ear – or TMJ – or whatever the fuck it really is, has been bugging me despite oiling my ear and doing those jaw exercises.

I was going to take today off but since I slept well and have good energy today, I figured I would wait until traffic starts waking me up again and I’m too tired to work out. It was so nice being able to sleep with just Alexa on volume seven last night instead of her on volume eight and the stereo blasting white noise as well.

I was reading a sad and discouraging article about how quiet places are becoming more and more extinct and that yes, the world is getting louder. It isn’t just me imagining it or exaggerating things or being overly sensitive in any way. After reading it, I just can’t help but wonder how far is far enough. I realize that now that our old place in Maricopa is probably just as overrun with loud vehicles and probably even motorcycles, a box fan wouldn’t be enough for me anymore if we were still there. I’d have to get at least 500 feet away from the street these days to drown out all the chaos without blasting the shit out of the sound machines, yet not many places are that far from the street. The only pieces of land big enough that we could afford to move to aren’t in climates I want to be in. I think we’ll be damn lucky if we can get half that far from the neighbor’s dogs, boom stereos, screaming kids, and traffic, but it’s better than just a few feet.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 12, 2020 It rained last night, which is great because we not only need it, but the conditions here have been so damn dry that it’s really drying the hell out of my skin. The rain has been keeping the planes quiet this morning as well.

I got a bath bomb and took a bath with it yesterday to help moisturize my skin a bit more but if it helped it wasn’t by much. There was a prize in the coconut-scented center of the large bomb which took forever to completely dissolve. I didn’t have my glasses on so all I could see was something glittery inside a tiny clear plastic bubble. I thought maybe it was earbuds but when I got out of the tub and put my glasses on, I could see that it was a hair tie. I can wear it as a bracelet as well. It’s a nice light turquoise color with what looks like crushed ice crystals on it.

My ear has been dry as hell again too, so I’ve been oiling it every day. At least I went a little longer this time before it started getting to me again.

We got stay-at-home text messages yesterday on our phones. No problem since we’re already homebodies with no place to go anyway. It was exciting seeing headlines about millions of doses of the vaccine about to be distributed throughout the country!

We began removing some of the wall stickers with the heat gun yesterday. We actually started with the pink rat on his bedroom door. We’re going to leave the flowers and butterflies. We’re going to be removing the stripper, mermaid, moon, dancers, and stuff like that.

We decided we’re going to touch up the paint throughout the place but paper the hallway, leaving the forest mural as is.

Getting spam from Sundae isn’t exactly waiting until next year to reach out to me. Kind of annoyed that they took it upon themselves to sign me up for their newsletter but still hoping to get a good deal from them and have a much quicker and easier experience than we would using a traditional real estate agent.

This morning we’re going to rearrange the living room to give it more of a traditional appearance for when they come to look at the place. We’re going to take the projector screen down and put the big screen TV back up. Also gonna drag the couch toward the center of the room. I’ll set the treadmill back up because I’ve been lazing out of cardio too much lately. Sometimes I can’t be that active anyway because I’m too tired but the only way I don’t get bored with walking unless I’m outdoors is to put my old laptop on the treadmill tray and do some puzzles or something while I’m walking. Even listening to music, audiobooks, or watching TV isn’t enough for me. The time simply passes by faster when I do puzzles.

My small pair of scissors with curved blades is getting old and dull so I ordered a new one with rainbow colors like the silverware set we got. I also ordered a three-pack of leggings for a couple of my large dolls. One pair is dark pink, another is pale pink, and another is white with pale pink flowers. The tag inside Jade’s old faded lavender pants said T2 so that’s what I got. The waistband will probably be too big for Mei Lin, but I don’t plan on keeping her anyway.

The coolest part of yesterday was receiving Aly’s gifts. As I told her, with our families being dead, assholes, or both, it meant a lot to me. She sent a beautiful necklace and bracelet she made using my favorite colors. In doing so she gave me a couple of ideas I never thought of before. One is to tie the beads off at both ends before I make the final knot. This would make it so much easier if it slipped out of my hand as I was trying to tie it. That way the beads won’t go flying all over the place and need to be restrung.

Another thing was the wax cord with the claw clasp already attached to it. I was really into magnetic clasps for a while until I realized what a pain in the ass they can be by grabbing other things. Chains would wind themselves around it, so I went back to traditional claw clasps or toggle clasps. What’s cool about these cords which come in a variety of colors from what I saw on Amazon is that you can restring whatever beads you want on them to suit your mood or match the color of your outfit. Never thought of a changing necklace before but that’s a great idea!

So my necklace is on a pink cord with rainbow beads and a really pretty pink crystal cube dangling from the center of it. The necklace says “Lady Rainbow” with pink purple and gold beads mixed in. I will always treasure them!

Plus there was a card, a cute nail file with pink hearts, and vanilla lip gloss.

Anyway, I slept well again. Crashed at about 5 p.m. and got up at 1:30 a.m. to pee and take my meds. I laid back down and figured I would get up in a half-hour and make coffee, but I dozed off for another 90 minutes.

We’re going to be taking care of all the animals today, including moving Fuzzy into the big cage. That cage is a little too big for one bale of bedding, but it would be perfect for him since he’s smaller and doesn’t pee every other minute as guinea pigs do. He’s too fat to get through the bars and doesn’t have the strength to climb much anymore. He still gets around well otherwise and hasn’t lost his appetite yet or anything like that.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 11, 2020 Covered California sent us 4 high-quality masks. They’re dull colors with two of them being black and a couple of teal ones but they’re comfortable and adjustable.

I’m completely dumbfounded by all the planes I’m hearing in the morning. People are just so damn stupid and they just don’t get it, do they? Everybody always thinks they’re invincible until something happens to them. Wish I could jump ahead to January, not just so there won’t be as many stupid people flying but so I don’t have to listen to it either. The airlines are just as bad for allowing this to go on, but they’ll do anything to make money and fuck who it affects along the way. If anything, they’re starting earlier and earlier. First it was 5:40, then 5:25, and now it’s 5:05.

Thanks, God. Thanks a fucking lot.

At least I finally got caught up on sleep…for now. I’m sure some attention-hungry fucker will wake me up again soon enough. I went from a sleep score of 80 to 86. I just worry that if there really is something up there cursing my sleep as seems to have been the case all my life, it’s going to get around whatever blocks I set up in the future. I could soundproof, I could get a sleep pod, I could do whatever, and it’s going to see that as defiant and maybe hit me with more nightmares or have me wake up more often just because. I still woke up a few times on my own, once to pee. But I feel much more rested and hope to start removing some of the wall stickers while I’ve got the energy.

The bulk pick-up trash people were late as usual, but someone took the bike.

When I was in the bathroom, I heard a bang. My first thought was that it was someone visiting Virginia but then when I went into Tom’s room, he said it was them reading the meter. So much for him throwing hinges and weather stripping around it. People are just so damn aggressive when it comes to doors for some reason! The schedule predictor says I’ll be asleep for the next reading so as I told him, just pull the damn door out. They can’t slam what isn’t there. That’s not a sound thing but a vibration thing. The thumping jolts the place so it doesn’t matter how loud I have the sound machines going at the time.

Also when I was in the bathroom, I heard buzzing and thought, oh shit. The damn cock across the street is back with the sawing again. But it was the people working on the trim again. I don’t know if they had to fix something they didn’t do right the first time around or do the final touches on it but they weren’t there long, and even though I could hear some of it inside the house, it wasn’t loud. It was fun watching them leave as I was unwinding in bed on our little spy cam. I have the WYZE app loaded on my phone.

They didn’t work on the new house yesterday, but the trailer is still there. I don’t hear much of anything they do inside the house anyway. It’s their damn vehicles that are loud.

I’m seeing chicken breasts in a whole new light. It used to always be my least favorite part of the chicken because I just never thought white meat tasted as good and it tends to be drier. Yet it came out great yesterday in the slow cooker. I just need to make it a little cheesier. So instead of seasoning it and putting it in the cooker with chicken broth in it, I’m doing that but also adding parmesan cheese, additional slices of Swiss cheese, and a slathering of mayo and sour cream over the top of it.

After sharing the link to an entry from my recipe book on PB with Aly, I warned her it was coded and that I would see her on my visitor report. Of course I didn’t, though, and just as I predicted she would, she never told me that no, she wouldn’t show up. This is either because she didn’t click on it or is hiding. I suspect she’s been reading me at times to compare what I send her versus what I share with others out of curiosity but is flying under radar.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 10, 2020 Forget about being woken up in the daytime. Now I can’t even sleep at 11 at night! I was sleeping shitty to begin with too, because the purring cat was obnoxious with its choppy, grating, and non-consistent sound. I woke up many times along the way, including to pee, and when I saw it was 9:30, I figured it was safe enough to switch to pink noise. Wrong! At 11 was when a loud vehicle woke me up. It’s really fucking sad and infuriating that the need for attention has to extend into people’s sleep. Really, if you feel you need the attention of just anybody and everybody that bad, see a therapist instead!

This is just ridiculous. Totally fucking ridiculous and I’m going to put the stereo back on. It’s here and it’s set up so I may as well use it in addition to Alexa, but I’m not taking it with us because I refuse to ever again live practically in the middle of the street. I dozed on and off until 2, making a huge jump in my schedule. Now the planes are going crazy.

I wish I knew if we were going to be on one of them when it comes time to leave but that’s going to depend on how well or not so well the virus is contained, along with money. If it weren’t for those things, it would certainly be a hell of a lot less stressful for Tom not to have to drive across the country, and easier on me since I can’t always sleep at night, wake up so easily, and am badly affected by lack of sleep. Plus, it’s safer to fly than to drive when you get the virus out of the picture. I don’t know that we’ll know either way for sure until we know what we’re going to get for the house.

I can see why circadian rhythm disorder seems to worsen with age. In my twenties and early thirties, once I was out, I stayed that way until I got up, and so it was a little easier to control my schedule back then. Not anymore! I have to stay in bed longer to make up for the sleep disturbances, and the fatigue hits me harder than when I was younger.

Tom was able to convert his appointment to a video appointment but now it will be in January instead of December.

The vaccine and our moving day can’t come fast enough as I was telling my buddy. I feel like I’m always stuck in this endless waiting game. And there are no guarantees it will be much better when we move. I mean, logically it makes sense that it should be if you get further from the street and get a sleep pod as well, but it seems something up there is determined to fuck with my sleep no matter where I am or what’s going on.

The bulk trash pickup is today but sometimes they’re a day or two late. We put out the old pink and purple bike I got in Oregon, an old box spring and mattress, and the old, rotted gate that used to be in back.

The Swiss chicken I baked came out horribly. The meat was so tough that I thought it was still frozen when I tried cutting it. This time I seasoned it first and slow-cooked it in chicken broth and I think it will be a lot better.

Aly says I will get my birthday present Saturday, and that Molly deleted her on Fitbit probably because she hasn’t been as supportive of her since she hasn’t gotten the same support in return. I told her the message disappeared when I tapped on the notification and she said she deleted it because she figured I would react the way I reacted about Molly.

Yeah, I figured that’s why she deleted it but why is she so defensive of this person who’s never really been a true friend to her? Molly is bipolar. They’re nothing but non-stop drama and trouble as I’ve told her, but she doesn’t seem to want to hear it. Oh well. It’s still her life and her choice.

Twice I had to ask her if we were going to meet Cam if we ended up driving through there and she said that would depend on his schedule. Oh, I would bet just about anything that if we do drive, he’ll definitely happen to be working.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 9, 2020 And again some bastard woke me up, probably one of the trucks leaving the new house that they started working on again. And just like I knew I would be, I’m tired, since the general rule these days is that once my sleep is broken up, I’m going to end up tired no matter how much more sleep I get when I finally get back to sleep. And that I am! However, I did manage to make my Swiss chicken. I just put it in the oven. Hope it comes out okay because the chicken was still partially frozen.

Going to switch from white noise and airplane to white noise and purring cat since the cat almost sounds like a motor itself and maybe it will blend in with the millions of ferociously loud vehicles this world has these days all because people just have to have attention no matter who it affects. Really, I can’t express just how fucking sick of this shit I am! That’s three times in less than a week that they woke me up. Then afterward, I woke up a million times just because and once to pee. Still not taking the stereo because I refuse to ever again live so close to the street, especially a busy one. I’m done with this shit. No, the past is not going to return to haunt me in this case because I won’t let it. However, I may have to re-add the stereo when I’m sleeping during the daytime if I can’t tweak the sleep sounds just right. I don’t think there’s anything I can really do either way because of a combination of how loud vehicles are, how close to the street we are, and what this house is made of.

Last night at 3 a.m. the place started smelling of skunks and it even woke Tom up. As I told him, that was the first thing I thought of; that it would wake me up if I was asleep.

He installed two cameras, one on the patio and one in the carport. It makes recordings of “events” whenever there is motion and has excellent night vision as well. We checked it but the skunk we smelled didn’t come within range of the cameras.

Because central Florida is going to be a little colder and not as pretty as the Gulf Coast, part of me wishes I could end up falling in love with a park and finding it radically different than this one, but I know that’s just a fantasy. People are going to have loud vehicles there too. People are also going to do projects there.

The only things that may be more annoying in a rural setting than a park would be excessive barking, loose dogs, and possibly boom car stereos. But on the bright side, no one could get within a few yards of our windows and we would definitely be safer from hurricanes.

I used to not understand why just because you were older it meant you had to cut your hair off but now I get it. The older I get, the sicker I get of having long hair. I have yet to get, however, why most lesbians and bisexual women “happen” to feel the need to cut their hair off just because they’re attracted to women. I never could make the connection. I’ve been attracted to women yet never felt the urge to cut my hair off because of it. I want to cut it because I’m sick of dealing with it because thick curls are hard to care for, but not before a vaccine is available. Besides, like most older people, I dye my hair more than when I was younger, and this is easier to do with shorter hair. And when I say “short” I don’t mean above the shoulders. No need for me to go that short.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 8, 2020 If Aly said everything that was on her mind, would she sound like Andy?

Speaking of him, I had a dream about him last night. The dream had to do with me missing him and being happy to get an email from him, unable to resist the urge to smile when I saw it was from him and knowing I’d replied even though I shouldn’t.

I do miss him at times in real life, but we could never resume our friendship because I know that he is who he is just like I am who I am. I would have the same problems I had with him half a decade ago and that I also had with him in the '80s and '90s where he believed every other thing I said was a lie (along with everything everyone else in the world said), and he’d be the same old pushy, judgmental, argumentative person he always was, not to mention the fact that he could be incredibly insensitive when it came to physical and emotional suffering.

That’s another thing that got to me when watching a Lifetime movie. When one actor said to another that they were worried she may be considering suicide, she answered with, “No, that’s too selfish.”

That right there told me how naive and uneducated the scriptwriter must be. If committing suicide is selfish, what about the terminally ill who choose the right to die? Really, calling someone who commits suicide selfish is like calling a paraplegic lazy.

Loved the one where this guy takes a bat to the neighbor’s noisy lawnmower. If only we could all just take a bat to the things that annoyed us, no repercussions, no nothing.

I also dreamed of my ENT. I don’t know why she’s been on my mind a lot. I certainly don’t have a crush on her, so I guess it’s just that I hope to find doctors just as good in the new place and that I feel just as comfortable with.

In the dream, she was also a DEA and a singer but her last name was Spencer.

I’ve been doing some exercises to help increase flexibility since I’m learning more and more that flexibility isn’t always connected to weight. I’ve seen people bigger than me be more flexible.

We forgot the water was going off yesterday for a few hours, but Tom was lucky enough to have just finished showering when it did. That’s why I try to avoid showers in the daytime. I had just finished brushing my teeth and had to rinse my mouth out with bottled water.

We ran out to Rite-Aid yesterday. Same cashier as last time. She changed her fake nails and I showed her my latest nail stickers. Of all the things I could pick on myself for, I really did get blessed in the nail department. Yes, I have ridges but at least I can grow them if I want to. I’ve seen nails so short that they’re like little stripes across the tips of the fingers they’re on and wider than they are longer. Mine could never be wider than longer even when they’re cut short.

There is never a quiet moment these days in this park. The freeway is roaring at night and the planes are zooming overhead in the daytime. I still can’t believe the constant never-ending traffic on Eisenhower. It doesn’t matter what time of day or year it is. There is always a heavy and constant flow.

MONDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2020 My skin is dry as hell. Oh, the joys of living in desert and desert-like climates for the last 28.5 years! It’s going to be 70 degrees tomorrow. First time it’s ever been that high in December in all the years I’ve been here!

I won’t be making any Swiss chicken tonight. Thanks to the pandemic they didn’t have chicken breasts when Walmart delivered this morning. We’ll try again in a few days, but honestly, I wouldn’t have the energy to cook tonight anyway thanks to whatever fucker (probably a motorcycle) woke me up in the middle of my sleep. It took me nearly an hour to fall back asleep and I just didn’t sleep well overall with the stress of knowing something else could go roaring by.

Tom assures me that we really will get a quieter house on a street where less traffic goes by. God, I hope to hell he’s right! And please, no more commercial planes, small planes, military planes, helicopters, and every fucking flying object in the world along with the obnoxious buzz of the freeway! As it is, I swear I’ve been hearing something loud running off in the distance and it’s 2:30 in the morning. I don’t know if it’s some kind of construction or a woodchipper running or what but even the nights suck here. The pandemic has quieted the commercial planes at night but the mornings are still rocking. If anything, they’re starting a little earlier than usual. 5:25 on the dot.

But I swear that when the damn motorcycle went by, the volume on Alexa wasn’t turned up as high, almost as if something up there wanted it to wake me up. Then I swear I heard it get louder again later on. Am I losing my mind or did I really hear that?

I am extremely grateful right now that he doesn’t have to work due to the virus. Every 1 in 1100 people in the US dies from it and it’s now the leading cause of death in the US. I’ve beaten the odds on more than half of those winning cruises! I read that Russia and the UK have begun mass vaccinations so hopefully, we’ll get ours within a few months.

I did a Twitter poll asking if anyone knew more about me than I think they do that’s significant. I got a yes and a no and I wonder if both votes came from Aly to throw me off her scent. If it’s Aly that said yes and it really is true, then how? A paid search? Hacking me somehow?

I know she’s lied about doing a paid search on me. What she said to Molly about finding out who’s behind accounts, finding my old account, visiting a secondary PB account I used to have that I hadn’t used in a while…I’m no idiot.

The question is why she bothered to look me up. I know she didn’t sign up for a paid search solely with me and mind, but she had to have looked me up for some reason. Was it just genuine curiosity or was she looking for something to use against me? Aly has never come off as the vindictive type like the termites. Not without doing something really serious to her. She didn’t do anything to me when she dumped me.

She tweeted that she would lose a lot of friends if she shared everything that was on her mind. Yeah, I know. That’s why I wonder just how true of a friend she really is at times. She seems to be sincere most of the time, but I still think those tweets about thinking often of ghosting someone and making herself harder to find were indeed about me. I learned just what she really thought of me when I spotted a tweet of hers saying she was excited that I wouldn’t be around for a couple of weeks when we went to Florida.

It is still kind of weird that we’re not connected on Facebook, no matter how much she says she doesn’t like Facebook, just like Maliheh and I were never connected there. Also, there’s got to be some reason she won’t share a picture of Cam or her address. What does she think I would possibly do with that information? This is why I sometimes wonder if the guy is even real since she has, after all, shared her parents’ address. Intelligent or not, that’s still one hell of a game to be playing for this long if she really is.

Since our smart smoke detector expired, he installed a basic one. It doesn’t beep nearly as loud as smoke detectors usually do. It gives off 3 beeps for fire warnings and 4 for carbon monoxide.

I had a dream I was playing with a rat in some building. I was letting it run around loose and then I picked it up. My dad was there, and I let him crawl on him and sniff him out curiously, ensuring my dad he wouldn’t bite.

Then I was going to be sharing a small two-bedroom apartment with a couple of deaf women. They were surprised to find I knew ASL.

I just got a great idea for the cute popcorn tin. Well, I’ve been wanting a utensil organizer but they’re more expensive than you think so maybe when we get settled, we can use the tin and he can print out dividers to insert so things won’t slip down and will remain upright easier. Another possibility for it is small doll clothes.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 6, 2020 Made my dinner of Pacific whiting with some shredded green, yellow and red peppers, and diced onions. Later I’ll have some chicken wings.

Tomorrow I’m going to be trying a new recipe, Swiss chicken. I don’t remember who it was, but I was reading a random journal on PB where someone mentioned it. I looked it up out of curiosity and decided it was a recipe I would like to try.

My weight is down a bit because I didn’t eat much yesterday mostly because I was just too tired to cook anything. So I can lose weight but I can’t because I’m not going to have just 1000 calories every single day and live on nothing but meat and veggies. Then again, I still don’t think I would lose much more than a few pounds even if I could stick to the same old limited low-cal diet.

What was weird was that yesterday I wasn’t just tired, but more like that rundown kind of feeling you get when you have a cold. I didn’t even wear my Fitbit until I went to bed because I knew I wasn’t going to get shit for steps.

They replaced Virginia’s trellis along her carport yesterday, but it wasn’t loud enough to wake me up. I thought I heard something when I got up to pee at 8:30 so that’s probably what it was since it didn’t seem loud enough or sound right to be the bastard with the saw.

This is the longest we’ve known that bastard not to do any sawing and I’m wondering if I was right about suspecting he had some kind of job connected to construction that he isn’t doing anymore. Maybe he’s now fully retired or is staying home because of the virus but he definitely has seemed to be home more often yet quieter.

“Or maybe he finished working on the house,” Tom said.

Yeah, or maybe he got sick or someone finally complained about him. Who knows? I just like him better when he’s quiet.

Just had a weird experience where it felt like I wasn’t getting much air when I was breathing. I could breathe fine, it’s just that it didn’t seem like there was any oxygen in the air I was breathing.

My TMJ had been doing great ever since I saw my ENT last summer with just a few annoying days but lately, it’s been annoying me again.

Took a peek in on Times Square when it was midnight there. Couldn’t believe all the kids that were out! My mother let me stay up later on weekends too, but not until midnight.

I’m working out a little differently tonight. I’m spending 5 minutes working my arms and then 5 minutes walking around the house briskly. Then in an hour or so I’ll work my core for 5 minutes and walk for 5 minutes. In another hour I’ll work my legs for 5 minutes and walk for 5 minutes. So 15 minutes of cardio and 15 of working various body parts.

Started beading a Y-necklace and it looks a little weird so I put it down for now and will return to it later with a fresh perspective and decide whether or not I want to restring it a little differently.

Got a notification from Google saying that after 2 years of inactivity when it comes to Google Docs, blogs, and other things, they’ll close your account down. My creations are like my children. Mothers do what they can to see that their children survive, and I still feel compelled, for whatever reason, to see that my journals live on in cyberspace for as long as possible after I’m gone. But then it hit me that the sites my stuff is on wouldn’t necessarily be around forever. I don’t know if they would be archived in some kind of time machine or what, but I realize that there are no guarantees. However, I figured I could help keep my account active by creating a picture blog where a random picture of me is scheduled to post every year beginning in 2030, not that I don’t expect to be alive then. But this way, if anything were to happen to us both suddenly and unexpectedly, maybe that will “trick” Google into thinking the account is still active. I’ll start slowing the future journal blog posts down too. Instead of having a month publish every day or so, I’ll start stretching it out into the future once I get to the 2020 journals. Or maybe not.

Had a bunch of weird dreams that didn’t make much sense. In one I was watching a bunch of people enter a large foyer in a large house one night and was surprised that not one of them had a mask on. Then one of the guys was swabbing everyone’s mouth.

Then I was late for some kind of school I was attending and couldn’t find the phone I normally took with me, so I had to find another device to take.

Then I was digging through some stuff and found some things I’d forgotten about, including some plants that may or may not have been real.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 4, 2020 I’m now officially a semi-senior! Well, if that’s what turning 55 is considered anyway.

Then having fun with my new pink 7-layer organizer. I know some people see this sort of thing as a chore but it’s fun for me to get organized. I hate having to dive through piles of stuff to find things anyway. I didn’t fill all the compartments as I plan to rearrange things again once we get settled. I’ve already packed some things that this organizer would be great for and will probably get a few more eventually. It’s mostly going to be for jewelry, hair accessories, sewing stuff, and maybe even some doll stuff. The clear apple-shaped case it came with is adorable.

These organizers may have been money well spent but the nail striping tape wasn’t. No matter how well I reinforce it, it peels right off.

Sundae got back to me but rather than giving me a yes or a no as to whether or not they deal with manufactured homes on leased lots, she asked for my address and offered to do a phone call.

I didn’t want to ghost her so I replied thanking her for getting back to me and letting her know up front that we don’t plan to put the house on the market until March, but I did give her the address as I’m curious to see what she has to say. I don’t want to get my hopes up on these people to find that they won’t work with us. I sure hope they will, though, and the fact that she didn’t give me a flat-out “no” gives me hope! This would be a million times easier than taking the traditional selling route. To not have to deal with showings and to know exactly when to expect what and to be able to leave crap behind would be wonderful but only if they’re willing to deal with us and not rip us off. We agreed that accepting less than 60k would be ripping ourselves off. You only have 60 days from the time you get paid to get out. I guess this is so you don’t have as much time to gut the place and all that.

We’re still going to prep the place as planned. I absolutely love having washerless shower handles! I swear our next place is not going to have a single washer in it except for the ones that wash clothes and dishes!

Tomorrow will be the big test for the new sleeping sound setup unless they come early and I’m up late. It’s funny how big of a difference there is between volumes 7 and 8. 7 is a little too soft and 8 is deafening. Tom brought up a good suggestion and asked if there was a 7.1 or something like that. Well, I’ll try starting at 7 when it comes time and then ask Alexa to raise it to 7.5 and see if it gets a little louder.

I’m so glad my genius husband told me that yes, there is a command to get speech-to-text to write quotes for dialogue when doing stories. It must be a new thing because I’ve looked for ways to do that in the past and never could find any. But “open quote” and “close quote” work great!

I hope it’s just the Fitbit or the app that’s having issues because I’m still seeing dips in my HR even when I’m sure the Fitbit is snugly against me and not too loose or anything. Just yesterday I watched it zig zag from the 70s and 80s to the 50s and 60s before it settled into the usual 80s and 90s.

Thought of a hilarious revenge story that would be fun and therapeutic to write in the way that the other story was that involves the sickos in Arizona. This one would deal with the termites. Termite Tammy might die before I do and the Arizona sickos may be gone around the time I’m gone, but the baby termites will still be around if I schedule it to launch after I’m gone just like the other story.

It’s going to be revenge with a supernatural twist. The drama queen can be sitting on Facebook, for example, when a message pops up saying something like, “Partly thanks to you, I lost 6 months of my life. You are going to lose 6 things that are very precious to you one by one.”

But then the message disappears as if it never existed leaving her with nothing to run to the bacon with.

Meanwhile, Mark and her twisted offspring make 4. The fifth loss could be losing her home and possessions in a hurricane. The last loss could be to lose her sight in an accident or something.

Yeah, I think this just may be fun. But not until I finish my crazy female serial killer story.

Later…

Everyone I figured I’d get a birthday wish from on Facebook did in fact send birthday wishes with one exception. Minnie surprised me with a message. Until now, it seemed that all she wanted to do was add me and then ignore me.

I’m not surprised that Mitch, Adonis, and Jessie blew me off and I really wasn’t sure as far as Eileen went. Didn’t hear from her, though.

It was kind of funny how the birthday wishes changed languages depending on the time of day. They started off in German since they’re ahead of us and then changed to English.

My birthday went from fun to frustrating when the garbage and recycle trucks woke me up three fucking times. It isn’t just insanely loud engines but there’s something on those damn trucks that make a really loud bang. Whatever it is, it’s insanely loud and it’s just fucking ridiculous that someone has to be woken up just because it’s trash day. I really REALLY hope to hell we’re done with this shit when we move!

I tried it out, but Alexa doesn’t do any in-between volumes. It doesn’t matter either way because no matter how loud I blasted the fucking thing, I could still hear them loud and clear. Hell, they are still just a few feet away and these walls are barely thicker than cardboard.

It’s been interesting hearing from those who have sought help from a dietitian, but I doubt I’ll see one since I still don’t think they could tell me what I don’t already know. I’d rather spend the money reducing my boobs, not that I likely ever would. The biggest thing I would love to have would be to get my vision corrected and out of glasses for at least a decade, but I don’t think that’s possible. Instead, the only elective procedure I’ll probably get done is pit hair removal.

Despite the rude awakenings, good news came in the mail today. COVID Unemployment has been extended for another 20 weeks and he doesn’t have to look for a job until he’s told otherwise. He still wants to see about getting in with Amazon and then whether or not he can transfer to a facility in Florida. However, and as I told him, I have two strong vibes right now and that’s that he’ll never again work in the state of Cali and we are going to fly out of here.

One down, one to go! Pretty sure Sundae would be happy to give us an offer when the time comes. Then all we have to do is hope they don’t want to rip us off and offer us $20,000. If they really mean it as far as being okay with not making as much of a profit per house as they claim in their video, I don’t see why they wouldn’t agree to not go lower than 60K since they could almost certainly get 80K-90K for this place once it’s been remodeled and well, 20-30 grand is still a substantial profit. But I guess that unlike traditional real estate agents who try to make a bigger profit off of fewer people, they settle for a lesser profit from more people.

I can see where it wouldn’t be wise to tell them up front we don’t want to go under 60K because then they might be like, “Okay we’ll give you that much then,” whereas we could have gotten 80K instead.

Anyway, no guarantees but it’s looking like yes, this house might very well be sold to Sundae which actually focuses on houses that are outdated. I’ve always had a strong feeling that this place would go to a flipper. So they’ll remodel it and then someone can pay a fortune to listen to all the planes, traffic and landscaping. Oh, and have their water turned off periodically too. I was just thinking how this has been one of the longest times we’ve gone without them turning off the water, but then we got a notification that it’s going off for a few hours on Monday.

Bridgette, the woman I’ve been communicating with, thanked me for the info and asked if she could reach out to me after the new year and I told her she could and thanked her for putting a smile on my face for my 55th birthday.

She replied with a birthday gif, LOL.

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 2, 2020 When I asked Aly if her doctor was aware of her low-calorie intake, she assured me her weight wasn’t down because of starving and that she doesn’t let herself go hungry for too long and that it’s because of her Crohn’s disease. Then she goes in Tweets in her other account that while she gets that some people mean well, one of the reasons she doesn’t discuss her health issues is because people butt in when it’s not necessary.

But she’s the one who brought it up. Why do some people write about certain things or tell people whatever and then get all bent out of shape when the person reading it, out of curiosity, has a question about it or a comment to make? Wouldn’t it be a lot easier to just not bring these things up in the first place if you can’t handle what questions or feedback you may get? That’d be like my getting mad at someone after telling them I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with my Fitbit and they suggested a possible culprit/solution. Seriously, you have no right to get upset if you’re the one who opens the door in the first place. Sorry, but you’re a coward if you can’t go directly to the source. What was language created for if not to use it to communicate and express yourself…to the proper people?

It makes me wonder about a couple of other things. How many other things am I supposedly saying or asking that offend her, and why doesn’t she tell me if I upset or annoy her that much?

I thought about confronting her but then that would be verifying that yes, I’m aware of her other account when I would prefer her not to be too sure of that (unless she’s hacking anything of mine) because this way I get to see more of her true colors on what’s really on her mind. Especially since she won’t come to me directly, but that’s okay because, in a sense, I’m not going to her about it either. At least not directly. I’m kind of going about it in a roundabout way, dancing around the subject but bringing up the same point. I guess we both just want to keep the peace. If she has no way to read my private journal now, she’ll know about it in the future since I’m guessing there is a good chance she may read whatever I make public after I’m gone.

She says my package will be late and that she’ll be sending it Friday, but I told her not to worry about it since she has a lot more important things to deal with right now.

Later…

I was browsing around EarthCam and it’s pretty cool. Love how I can see many different cities in many different states, including other countries. As much as I hate big cities and cold climates, I love to look in on Times Square. There’s always something to see even in the middle of the night. It’s great because it’s like being in the city without being in the city. I can look in and listen for as long as I want and then click right out of it and be done with it. Wish I could do that here!

What surprises me is the temperature being in the upper 30s at this time of year in the dead of night. That’s not what I remember the temps to be when I last lived in the Northeast.

I’ve seen people in red jumpsuits sweeping the area where there are scattered tables and chairs, I’ve also seen plenty of cop cars and of course tons of taxis. There was even a small crowd that formed a circle around some street dancers, and this was at 10:30 at night.

It’s always so light even in the middle of the night because of all the giant digital billboards. It seems to throw the pigeons’ schedule off because they’re usually nocturnal, yet I occasionally see them hunting for scraps of food on the ground.

What I don’t get is how so many people can sit outside at the tables and gab away at 3 in the morning as if it was the middle of a beautiful day.

I changed the rat’s cage a little while ago. His tumor almost seems like it’s not growing which is a bit unusual. Usually, they keep growing steadily and quite fast too. He shared a fresh lettuce leaf with Blitz while I worked on his cage. I picked out all the wasted leaves from the pig cages. Damn, those guys are so wasteful!

Last night I made the prettiest bracelet yet. It is just so beautiful and so me! Very pink and shiny. I alternated between hot pink and bright white lava beads with rainbow gemstone separators.

My first attempt at making a daisy bracelet was a bust. The first one came out okay, but I struggled with the second one.

Using Nature Sounds for Sleep seems to be really helping a lot. The real test will be trash day but if they come early, I might still be up. I’m still going to want a backup to Alexa even if we leave the stereo behind, and it’s looking like we will at this point. If the net went out or there was a power failure, I’d want to have a portable sound machine as a backup. One that isn’t 20 years old like the one I’ve got is. I’ll take the old one until it’s replaced, though. Just not the stereo.

We talked about me getting permanent hair removal done under my arms since for some reason shaving irritates the hell out of me these days and I would want to be shaved year-round there, and maybe even check into seeing a dietitian once we get settled and know what our money is going to be like. I’ve got mixed emotions about a dietitian. Part of accepting myself as I am means doing what I’ve been doing for the most part and that’s not trying to change things. Also, I don’t see what they could tell me that I don’t already know. I’d have to cut my calories lower than I could stand and do tons of working out to maybe lose weight that will only come right back. We know there are no magic foods or magic food combinations but just some foods that can make it easier to gain weight.

But then I didn’t think Amy could help me as much as she did, and I realize that staying this heavy isn’t good for me even if over two-thirds of me is muscle. It’s much harder to get around and I know it can’t be good for my blood pressure, cholesterol, and shit like that. I know I can’t diet and exercise it off as most people can, so I suppose that if the opportunity ever presented itself it can’t hurt to at least try one and see what they say. Maybe they can really tell me something I don’t already know.

But then what about my old 250-pound GYN? Why can’t they help her get the weight off if she doesn’t want to get the gastric sleeve? She’s a doctor. If she can’t lose weight, how could I?

Facebook might have actually done us a great favor for once and for all with all the stupid unwanted suggestions they throw in my newsfeed as if I can’t look things up on my own, by throwing in an ad for a company called Sundae. If there isn’t some hidden catch and they would be willing to give us the minimum of what we want for this place and they don’t exclude manufactured homes on leased lots, they would make things a million times easier for both of us. They give you a quote and you’ve got 60 days to get out (so you don’t have as much time to gut the place or anything). You not only wouldn’t have to deal with having to show the place, but they say you can also skip the repairs and leave all your junk behind too. That would be a huge convenience for us not to have to deal with Goodwill coming to pick up what they would take and the pressure of having to find ways to get rid of what they wouldn’t.

It would also make the move itself easier because we would have a much better idea of when we needed to be out of here whereas if we went about it the usual way, we have to wait until everything closes and we wouldn’t know exactly when that would be right down to the day. So it would be a huge convenience for us because then we could line up the dates easier as to when to get plane tickets if we were flying, schedule a pod to pack our stuff in if it was going to be shipped, or when to get a U-Haul if we were going to drive across.

If we go with them, we may not contact them until late March because we still don’t want to leave too early. I’ve been ready to go for years but the plan is to arrive in the summer when the heat, humidity, and all those allergens are at their worst so I can get a sense of how I’m going to handle it.

But damn, would that make things easier and be really cool if we could just take what we wanted, sell whatever we could get money for that we didn’t want, and simply walk off and leave the rest behind!

It’s nice when I have dreams that are funny, unique and weird instead of really crazy or scary. In last night’s dream, the group home Molly lives in was right here in my city and I guess it always had been. I thought to myself that I had yet to meet anyone in person that I met online and decided why not go meet Molly and change that?

In real life, I’ve never wanted to meet her or be her friend just because she reached out to me because I was friends with someone who didn’t want anything to do with her at the time. I’m over the hard feelings I once had for her due to the way she stalked me, but I could never forgive her mother because of the way she should have known better. She did what my sister did. She aided her daughter in stalking me.

So while it may be the last thing I would ever do in real life, I went to visit her, and when we checked in at the front desk, I told them who I was and they went to talk to Molly to make sure she would see me. They returned just a few minutes later to take me back to see her.

Tom waited in the waiting room while I went and visited with her. Where it got strange was that when I returned to the waiting room and we were looking for our shoes which they made us take off for some reason, I couldn’t remember a damn thing about the visit. I couldn’t remember what we talked about or anything at all about it. My mind was completely blank, and I realized I wouldn’t be able to document in my journal what our discussion was about or what Molly was like. All I could do instead was have the silly and irrational fear that Aly would be angry with me for going to see her when in reality neither of us cares who the other sees as that’s our right as adults, of course.

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 1, 2020 Listening to my Discovery Mix right now that Amazon threw together for me. They choose 25 songs every week and not one of them has appealed to me yet. Music today is so boring. It’s like everything sounds the same. It just isn’t what it was in the 70s and 80s.

I’m a light pink sparkly lady tonight! This was from the same set that Tom tested a piece of on his middle finger which is still holding up. I applied that tea tree base coat and yes, they definitely seem to adhere better to that. I could feel it as I was applying them. Only one nail did I not put a base coat on just to see if there was a difference. They look gorgeous but they are still kind of thick and snag in my hair if I run my fingers through it. So much so that I can see a very thin faint clear ring of plastic they put around the edges to try to thin the edges down.

The set of file boxes came today so I set those up. I’ve got five different brands in my five boxes plus a couple of extras in one of them since I’ve got about seven different brands right now.

The other night I did some video tweets and found they didn’t cut off anything I was saying. I do them in the dark, so there’s just a black vid. Maybe I’ll do some more tonight. I really hope Voice Notes comes to Android early in the year!

If I didn’t know we were moving in a matter of months, the number of helicopters I’ve heard since I got up would make me want to beat my head into the wall. It’s ridiculous. Just fucking ridiculous. So are the projects. Amazingly, though today’s only woke me up for a second despite being so loud and so close. In fact, had I known what was coming as I was going to bed, I would have had a ton of trouble falling asleep.

Initially, it was a nightmare that woke me up. Then, as I was falling back asleep I heard a loud bang or something that I assumed was someone crashing into the speed bump if not something next door. Like maybe they banged one of their bins which are by the bedroom windows.

I raised the volume of the two sounds I had running on Alexa from 7 to 8 and then slept fine from there on out. I was really surprised to learn from Tom that today’s project was a woodchipper parked right outside the bedroom in the back. He went out to see what all the racket was and where it was coming from. I went out to see if I could see what they cut down but I can’t tell. I’m thinking it might have been one of the cypress trees at the house next to Lawrence but can’t say for sure. I’m just glad it didn’t keep me awake for the hour or so that Tom said they were there. They could have been removing a tree stump instead of trimming trees but again, I don’t know. I just know that I’m tired of being woken up by shit that occurs when I’m sleeping and having to listen to it when I’m awake. We can’t get out of here fast enough! Even if the next place isn’t exactly peaceful, we could certainly do better than this. I just wish we had this premium Nature Sounds subscription ever since we moved in, but we didn’t even get our first Alexa till 2015. One of our best and purchases ever!

So the nightmare I had was strange. It was late at night and I was running to a two-story house we had with an old friend. That old friend might have actually been Jenny C. She ran ahead of me and I was trying not to be spooked out since I was running along streets late at night that wasn’t in a gated community.

Then I got to my house where Tom was upstairs in the bedroom already asleep and my friend, whoever she was, left a few minutes later.

I went upstairs for a little bit and then went back downstairs. I found we had a slider that was open and at first it didn’t hit me as strange. But then I realized my friend wouldn’t have left that way and that someone might have been in the house. I raced back upstairs and when I was halfway up the stairs, I saw a light come on somewhere downstairs. Then I became really scared and ran really fast to tell Tom someone was in the house. He quickly sat up and began to dial 911.

0 notes

starryhyuck · 4 years ago

Text

pride. (m)

pairing: sugardaddy!xiaojun x reader

words: 4.7k+

summary: stacked with two jobs, tuition bills and rent payments, an opportunity falls into your lap that leaves you wanting more.

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: creampie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, oral sex, degradation, overstimulation

It all started before you hit rock bottom.

When you enrolled in college and decided to study music, your parents refused to pay for your tuition as they had hoped you would pursue law instead. You’ve been passionate about music since you were younger, and financial burdens were not going to hold you back from pursuing your dreams.

You spend most school nights working a low wage job, and switch to a different low wage job on the weekends. You hardly had time to balance studies and work, but in order to make ends meet, you fill your body with caffeine and call it a day.

You’re in the middle of wiping down the counter of the campus’s local ice cream parlor, ignoring the email you received from your landlord minutes ago. It was yet another warning notice to pay last month’s rent, a task you’ve been putting off for weeks.

There’s barely anyone who comes into the shop this late at night on a weekday, only a few who have a midnight craving they have to fulfill. You’re surprised when Doyeon comes barging into the shop at half past midnight, dressed to the nines in her custom Versace gown.

She sighs and throws herself down on one of the parlor chairs. “I feel sick to my stomach. Is it possible for your intestines to hurt so much from champagne?”

You laugh at her. Doyeon was your first friend when you came to campus, and you were blissfully unaware of how wealthy she was until three months into your friendship. Her mother recently remarried and Doyeon despised her stepdad, but she never had any complaints about the money he carried with him. Doyeon’s offered to pay off some of your loans so that you wouldn’t have to work two jobs, but you always turned down her offer. You couldn’t take money from her — you had to have a little bit of pride.

“What happened now? More sleazy old men hitting on you?” You question, leaning over the counter to ask her.

“You know me so well,” she sighs, her curled hair styled perfectly down her shoulders. She removes her heels for a bit so she can breathe. “And Doyoung was complaining the entire time, pissing off my mom. You know how my brother is.”

You’ve met Doyoung once or twice, and he was very similar to Doyeon — confident, smart and not afraid to speak what’s on his mind. Doyoung had a very difficult time adjusting to their mother’s new beau.

“You know what would be nice?” Doyeon asks, eyelashes fluttering at you. “If you come with me next time.”

“You know I can’t,” you decline, moving to check on the tubs of ice cream. “I’m too busy with work and school. Can’t leave for a night of luxury.”

“But you can,” she whines loudly. “Just let me pay your rent for last month and we’ll call it even!”

You roll your eyes. “I hardly call that even, Doyeon.”

She huffs. “Please? I can’t stand to go to another one of these things and listen to those snotty people tell me how lucky I am that my mom found that douchebag. You would make it so much more fun, and save me from a night of torture.”

For the first time, you’re contemplating Doyeon’s offer. You’ve known for a long time now that you’re running low on funds, and you’re scared that if you don’t find a way to pay your landlord, he’ll end up evicting you. Your eyes glance up to meet Doyeon’s, who has her puppy dog gaze turned on.

You sigh. “Just one event. That’s it.”

She squeals, and almost jumps over the counter to hug you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, thank you!”

You awkwardly pat her back. “Yeah, yeah.”

—

Doyeon failed to tell you that the event she was dragging you to would actually take place within a week.

You scrambled to find a dress and how to style your hair, knowing that if you showed up in an off-brand name, you would immediately look like an outcast. Doyeon saved you from the humiliation, shoving you into a Valentino dress that had your eyes rolling out of your head at the price tag. She also hired a hairstylist on the day of to come over and fix you up, which you clearly disagreed on until Doyeon told you it wasn’t up for debate.

And now, here you were, standing in the middle of the most luxurious place you’ve ever stepped foot in. Doyeon leans over to whisper to you while you’re eyeing the waiters and waitresses walking around with trays of champagne.

“Just smile and act like you only care about money.”

She tugs you forward and you try your best to match her pace. A girl approaches you two first, nails wrapped around the stem of her glass. She’s wearing one of the most beautiful gowns you’ve ever seen, a Chanel piece her mother imported for the event.

“Hyojung, you’re way too young to be drinking anything,” Doyeon scolds.

“Calm down, mom. No one’s snitching except you. Who have you brought?”

Doyeon beams and loops her arm through yours. “This is my friend from college.” She gives Hyojung your name and you offer your best smile.

Hyojung returns your grin. “Nice to meet you. Where do your parents work?”

Doyeon opens her mouth to tell Hyojung the truth, but you stop her.

“They own a few chain businesses in our hometown. Nothing too grand,” you inform. Hyojung nods in agreement, eyes darting somewhere else.

“Well, Chanwoo is here. I’m going to get the gossip that he owes me from last time.”

When Hyojung leaves, Doyeon frowns at you. “Why did you lie?” She questions.

You shrug. “I would rather not be a fish out of water here more than I already am. It’s better if people think I’m at least middle class.”

“Okay,” she says slowly. “You know I’m not ashamed of you, right?”

You giggle and pat her cheek. “Of course I know.”

“Finally!” You hear someone exclaim, and you turn to see Doyoung rushing over to the two of you. “Where the hell have you been? Mom’s going to murder you for showing up so late.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Relax. We took a long time getting ready.”

Doyoung smiles gently at you before tugging his sister away. You feel even more awkward, hands folding together as you sway in the middle of the room. The people around you are talking animatedly and you can faintly hear the sound of the violin in the back of the room. You wonder if you should pretend to go to the bathroom or find somewhere to sit-

“Never seen you here before.”

You turn to see a guy your age, dressed in a full Armani suit and Rolex watch shining under the sparkling chandelier. You awkwardly clear your throat.

“Uh, yeah. My friend brought me. Do I look that weird?”

He chuckles, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “You look beautiful. I’ve just been to plenty of these galas before and I’ve pretty much memorized the guest list.”

Your heart lingers on his compliment and you avert your gaze.

“My first one. Are they always like this?”

“Boring, you mean?”

You laugh and he joins in. You swear you feel butterflies frantically flying in your stomach.

“So, what’s your story? Also have rich parents?” You ask.

He nods. “My mother owns half of the city’s major businesses. I’m Xiaojun, by the way.” You give him your name and he smiles, motioning to the back of the room. “Want to talk where it’s a little less loud?”

You agree, smiling and taking his arm as he leads you to the less chatty part of the room. You both sit on a luxurious velvet couch, a piece of furniture that most likely costs more than your entire apartment. Xiaojun hands you a glass of champagne, his smile taking your breath away.

“Tell me a little bit about yourself,” he muses, eyeing you carefully.

You laugh. “Is this a job interview?”

He shrugs. “Could be.”

Your eyebrows furrow at his answer, but you figure rich people were always weird and vague like that. “I go to the same college as Doyeon, and I’m studying music. Not really much to say, I spend most of my time working.”

He nods, and you can’t place what the look in his eye is for.

“Music, that’s interesting. What made you decide to take on such a daunting major?”

“Daunting as in it’s not law or business?” You counter, giving him a look.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, no judgment here. In my world, I haven’t met anyone who isn’t a law or business major. It’s nice to have a change of scenery.”

He challenges your gaze, and you feel a warmth in your stomach you haven’t felt in months. You jump when you hear the shriek of your name and Doyeon comes charging towards the two of you.

“There you are! Jesus, I had to hear Doyoung fight with my stepdad for almost ten minutes.” Her exasperation turns into surprise when she sees Xiaojun seated next to you. “Oh! Hey, Dejun. Didn’t see you there.”

He offers a smile. “Hi, Doyeon.”

“Do you mind if I pull her away for a bit?” Doyeon asks, but she’s already looped your arm through hers. You slightly protest when she tugs you away from Xiaojun, but you’re immediately distracted by her next question. “What the hell were you doing talking to him? You know what Xiaojun is famous for, right?”

You frown, looking over your shoulder again to see him, watching as his line of sight carefully follows you and Doyeon.

“No, I don’t. He seemed nice. What’s the issue?”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “He’s a sugar daddy. Always looking for new sugar babies to satisfy him. He’s been blowing through girls like the wind for the past year. He’s not good, and I don’t want you in his company without me.”

You try to process that the man you were just talking to was, in fact, scoping you out to get a potential new sugar baby. You can’t wrap your mind around it, even when Doyeon drags you to the corner of the room, where Doyoung and her stepdad are still fighting.

Your eyes linger on Xiaojun’s table, but he’s already long gone.

—

“Nice shop you got here.”

You practically jump out of your shoes at the sound of the familiar voice, almost spilling a cup of ice cream down your front. You nearly get whiplash with how fast you spin around, eyes widening at the sight of Xiaojun standing in the middle of the ice cream shop. Your manager, Seojeong, raises an eyebrow at your skittish nature.

“Is there a problem here?” She questions, but you immediately brush her off.

“No, no problem!” You squeak. You immediately rush over the counter and push Xiaojun out of the shop. “Seojeong, I’m taking my 15!”

“Um, okay?”

Once you’ve got Xiaojun on the street, you take notice of what he’s wearing - another dark Armani suit, same Rolex watch, and hair styled in a way that’s meant to make your panties drop. You push back your thoughts and whisper harshly to him.

“I know why you’re here.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Do you now?”

“Yes, I do,” you state confidently, tilting your chin up. “Doyeon told me about your little sugar daddy scheme.”

He laughs. “Ah, is that what they’re calling it now? Didn’t realize I was such a bad guy for wanting to help out girls in bad situations.”

You scoff. “Do you get off on this? Lowering yourself to the underprivileged lives of the poor? Pretending to be the hero that saves the damsel in distress?”

He snickers at your line of questioning, shoving his hands in his pockets and eyeing you. He leans down so that you’re face to face, and you falter as he becomes closer to you.

“And if I do? What if I like giving you money so you don’t have to work two jobs?”

“How do you know I have two jobs?” You inquire.

“You looked so lost at that gala. I told you I’ve memorized the guest list — you’ve never been on it. It became relatively easy to discover the rest of the details. It must be exhausting doing this everyday, haven’t you ever wanted a break?”

You fold your arms across your chest and take a step away from him. “What’s in it for you?”

He grins. “The pleasure of your company.”

“What kind of company?” You ask, doubting him. You won’t lie and say the offer isn’t intriguing to you. You still have pride, definitely, but the weight of two jobs has really taken a toll on you lately. Plus, Doyeon said Xiaojun breezes through girls anyways. You could get a break from paying your rent for a few months and before you know it, he’ll move onto the next charity case he wants to help out.

There’s no harm in that, right?

Your thoughts are blown through the window, however, when his smirk grows wider. You’re sure there’s a large damp spot in your underwear right now.

“Whatever company you like, little one.”

You’re fucked.

—

You keep the relationship with Xiaojun quiet and under wraps. You know Doyeon would have many thoughts about your choice, and she would probably convince you to let her pay your bills instead of Xiaojun. You couldn’t place that burden on her shoulders.

Surprisingly, Xiaojun doesn’t ask for much. He swings by the ice cream parlor once a week, drops off a $1000 check, stays to chat for a little, and leaves. Seojeong doesn’t raise any questions, albeit you’ve seen her glance at the envelope you leave in the back room. You would’ve thought that Xiaojun is the type of guy who invites you over to his penthouse apartment to get to know him, but he’s been quite reserved. He never crosses the line with you, and his questioning stays on the topic of your classes and work. You continuously wonder how to captivate his attention and if the other girls before you failed to do so.

About a month into the deal, your patience wears thin. You’re not even really sure why you’re frustrated in the first place. Anyone would love a no strings attached deal like this, getting $1000 every week with barely any commitment. You quit your other job because you don’t need both paychecks now and you’ve been able to keep up on rent. However, a part of you expected to be close with Xiaojun in some way at this point, especially considering the way he was flirting with you when he first propositioned this.

You’re fully prepared to confront him on Friday night, the same day he usually drops off the check and chats with you for a bit. You practically throw yourself over the counter when he takes a step inside the shop, yelling over your shoulder to Seojeong that you’re taking your break.

Xiaojun laughs at your eagerness, allowing you to tug on his suit as you pull him outside.

“Someone’s excited today. Need the check that badly?”

You frown at the accusation and exhale. “No, as a matter of fact, the money you’ve given me so far could probably cover me for a year.”

“Then what’s with the frowny face?”

“There’s a catch here, Xiaojun, I know there is. You’ve been too nice,” you say, waving a finger at him.

He smirks. “Have I been? I told you, little one, all I need is your company. You’ve given that to me every week, haven’t you?”

You scoff. “Barely. We talk for a few minutes while I’m making orders for other customers and then you leave. I would hardly call that company.”

He gets even cockier, if that was humanly possible. Xiaojun has to know what he’s doing to you — the mystery of his true personality starting to make you curious.

Similar to your first meeting, he leans down until he’s a few inches from your face, eyebrow raised. “Didn’t mean to neglect you, little one. Did you want more from me?”

You shift awkwardly, tension building in your stomach from his words. He was clearly teasing you and his patience was stronger than you previously believed. He waited a month just to have you desperate like this, wanting something more than a few minutes of his time. You’re so wet at this point that you’re definitive Xiaojun knows.

To prove your point, his smirk grows wider. “What are you doing after your shift?”

“U-Um, I have some homework to finish-“

“Great, I’ll pick you up after work and you can finish it at my apartment.” He doesn’t give you any time to protest, moving closer to you, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “Next time, little one, just tell me you need more attention. Daddy will gladly give it to you.”

—

You’re a nervous wreck when Xiaojun’s expensive Rolls-Royce pulls up to the curb after your shift has ended. His car looks terribly out of place on the streets of your dirty campus, but he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. You quickly get in and ask him to go before anyone can recognize you.

The ride to his apartment in the upper part of town is filled with silence, making you even more jittery. Xiaojun, on the other hand, is calm and collected with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the console. You try to swallow your nerves and reason with yourself.

This is just Xiaojun — son of a multimillionaire, heir to many respective companies within the city. This is just Xiaojun — the man who’s been giving you $1000 every week with no strings attached, the man who’s clouded your dreams for the past month on more than one occasion.

Unfortunately, you don’t have any more time to dwell on your thoughts when Xiaojun pulls up to the parking garage of his complex. The both of you exit the car and he hands the keys to one of the valet drivers. His fingers fall to the small of your back as he guides you inside.

You try to avoid the blatant stares from other residents. You’re still dressed in your work clothes, a simple t-shirt and pair of jeans, but you couldn’t look more like a fish out of water. Xiaojun doesn’t seem to mind, walking into the elevator and pressing the top floor button. You ride the elevator in silence, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head when you reach the penthouse.

The apartment is straight out of the movies. The decor is extravagant, and you’re afraid if you touch anything, you’ll have to pay a fine. Xiaojun leads you to the dining room, pulling out a chair for you, despite your confusion.

“You can finish your homework here. I’ll be in the study upstairs.”

“Wait wait wait,” you stop him, placing a hand on his chest. “You’re leaving?”

He grins. “Did you want me to stay?”

He was really going to make you beg for it. Your eyes narrow and you feel a burst of confidence run through you. You tilt your head up until you’re a few centimeters from his mouth.

“You said Daddy would give me more attention if I asked for it.”

He growls, eyes darkening. Before you know it, he has you pinned to the grand table, staring at you as if you’re his last meal. It’s your turn to smirk as his control snaps, fingers digging into your hips roughly.

“Think it’s fun to test me? The other girls before you were more behaved,” he hisses, eyes wandering to the valley of your breasts.

“But you don’t like that, do you? You like it when they disobey,” you murmur, pulling him closer to you. “You like giving them their punishment.”

Xiaojun’s lips are pressed to yours before you can even fully register what’s going on, his body locking you against the wood. You whimper, hands gripping his forearm to keep steady. It’s messy and frantic, and you can see all of the built up tension starting to show.

“What would Doyeon think of you whoring yourself out for money?” He snickers, making you feel small under his gaze. “I bet she would be so ashamed. Little one gave up her pride for a few thousand dollars?”

You whine. “It’s not like that.”

“But isn’t it?” He questions you, fingers unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them down your legs. You wish you had worn a sexier pair of panties today but Xiaojun seems satisfied nonetheless, snapping the elastic against your skin. “Can’t wait to get a taste of this cunt. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, little one?”

You probably look pathetic like this — half of your body sprawled across Xiaojun’s dining table, pants around your ankles, and a large wet spot ruining the fabric of your underwear. You pitifully nod in response to his question, eyes locked on the bulge straining against his expensive trousers. He chuckles when he follows your line of sight.

“Hungry?”

You fall into the role so easily. “Yes, Daddy.”

He directs you on your knees, the cold marble floor sending a shiver up your spine. You eagerly watch him unbuckle his belt and exposing his leaking cock for you. The tip is red and angry, demanding to be touched.

“Go ahead, little one. Make Daddy feel good.”

You wrap your mouth around the tip, nearly moaning at the taste of him. You haven’t been intimate with someone in so long and his cock has your mouth watering.

“Good girl,” he soothes, pushing his cock further down your throat. Tears immediately spring into your eyes when he ignores your gag reflex, hands gripping the back of your head as he guided you. “Shh, doing so well for me, little one.”

You allow him to fuck your mouth, trying to brush aside the tears falling down your face and saliva pooling at the sides of your mouth. It’s filthy and you love it — you haven’t been used like this in months and you never realized how much you missed it.

“Your mouth is so perfect, fuck,” he groans. “I’ll pay for anything you want if you stay on your knees like this, all pretty for me.”

You gasp when he lets you breathe, pulling his cock away. He chuckles at you, fingers returning to stroke himself as he watches you regain yourself. He tugs you back on your feet, overlooking your wobbly legs and pushing you into the living room. You’re about to question him on what he’s doing until he’s shoving you up against his glass window. You gaze downwards, seeing a plethora of people passing by on the street and cars honking to one another. It’s a view you only see in the movies, and you know Xiaojun’s eager to fuck you into the fantasy.

His fingers slide into your underwear, breath hot against your neck. “Look at all of them down there, little one. Bet they want to be just like you, fucked so good for everyone to see. Even better when I cum inside you, hm?”

You freeze. “D-Daddy,” you whisper frantically. “I’m not on the pill.”

He’s silent behind your figure before you feel him playing with your folds, your wetness coating his hand.

“Isn’t that nice? What do you think of getting knocked up, little one? This entire place could be yours, you would never have to step foot in that ice cream shop again. All the wealth you never imagined, you could spend all day in bed with me while I stuff you full. You would look so pretty on Daddy’s arm. I wonder how many times we could sneak away from the crowd so I could fuck my cock into you. Wouldn’t that be a dream?”

You gasp, growing wetter by the second. He easily slides a finger into your heat and all common sense is thrown out of the window.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg. “Please please please. I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

He laughs at your desperation, pushing another digit inside. “Even though you’re not on the pill? How filthy of you, little one.”

It’s sick. You barely know this man but all you want is his cum inside you. You can imagine the headlines now — Millionaire’s Son Gets Poor Girl Pregnant. But you want it. You want it so badly.

You hear the tearing of your panties but you couldn’t give a fuck what happens to them, pushing yourself further into him. He laughs again at you, tip lining up to your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

You cry. “Please, Daddy! I want it, I’ve been so good for you! I’ll let you cum inside me and everyone can watch. I want them to see who I belong to.”

“Fuck,” he growls at your submission. You nearly scream when he pushes into you, his girth bigger and thicker than you’ve ever taken before. On top of that, you haven’t had sex in months and the stretch is almost unbearable. Your head rolls back but Xiaojun grips your chin and forces you to look outside the window. “Look at all those people, little one. They’re about to get a nice show.”

He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting into you like he wants to break you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls roughly, causing you to yelp at the pain. You’re past the point of coherent thinking, Xiaojun’s cock fucking you so good you can barely talk.

“Good, little one?”

“Mmf,” you gurgle, gasping at the force of his movements. You can feel him in your throat, and it’s as if he’s waited all these weeks just to spill his seed into you.

You tumble over the edge when he pinches your clit, whispering the dirtiest confessions into your ear. “Needy whore,” he laughed sinisterly. “Probably can’t go a day without my cock after this. Going to be begging me for it, wanting me all the time now. I can’t wait to take you everywhere and anywhere I please. I’ll buy you so many cute outfits, little one. So many skirts that make it easy for me to slide right inside and fuck you until you’re crying for me.”

You clench around his cock and fall over the edge, your wetness spilling down your thighs.

“Daddy,” you breathlessly hiss, body going limp in his arms.

“You came so much for me, little one. Your slutty cunt is so good for me, isn’t it?”

“Please, Daddy,” you plead. “Please, Daddy. I want to feel your cum.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, the sound of his balls repeatedly slapping against your pussy echoes around the room. “You wanna get pregnant? All baby wants is a big fat cock to stuff her full of cum, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry out, not even caring how pitiful you look at this point. “Want it so badly.”

Your desperation snaps the cord inside of him and he spills every last drop into you. You whimper at the warm feeling, some of his cum starting to drip out and coat the inside of your thighs. You both attempt to catch your breaths, your legs feeling like jelly.

You’re about to move away from him until Xiaojun keeps you pinned to the window, stopping you from leaving.

“W-What are y-you doing?” You ask, still out of breath from the fucking you just received.

“I don’t think that was the one,” he muses, eyes locked on where you two are intertwined. He offers an experimental thrust that has you scrambling.

“No, no,” you sniffle, trying to move away from him again. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“I think you can,” he chuckles, enjoying the way your cunt wraps so nicely around his cock. “And you will. Haven’t gotten you pregnant yet, little one.”

You spend hours fucking like bunnies with Xiaojun taking you on almost every surface of his apartment. You don’t even care that you’re impregnated, allowing him to use you in any way he pleases while the sun falls under the skyline.

Your pride didn’t matter that much anyways.

#nct smut #wayv smut #xiaojun #xiaojun smut

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xiaq · 3 years ago

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Hi, I have a question re:sex and Christianity. Small background: I still go to church, and I still live with my parents even though I'm not much younger than you, because housing is very very expensive where I live (pretty common here, I would say about 2/3 of my friends live with their parents and we are decently privileged kids)

Anyway. How does one get over purity culture? To be clear, I've never been told in church not to have sex, I've never gotten the gendered lessons that you got. But I am terrified of having sex. My first real, multi-year relationship just ended and while there was hand stuff etc, there was never any p in v sex (lol I feel 12). But I still had insane anxiety about being pregnant despite being on bc. And I think its because I know my parents would be so disappointed if I had sex. And if I was pregnant I could imagine all the gossip. And honestly I think im from a pretty open church, b/c one of our previous ministers kids recently got married at 8 months pregnant and lots of church people were at the wedding and supportive and her parents were there and everything.

I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???

(Asking because it seems like you've been pretty open about purity culture/removing yourself from it)

CW for sex talk (again)

How does one get over purity culture?

Oh man. That really is the million-dollar question, huh? Obviously, I can only answer re my personal experiences, and this is something you should talk to a therapist about, but I can tell you how I’ve tackled it with my therapist at least.

Purity culture is, at its core, an ideology that is perpetuated by shame. If you’re indoctrinated into purity culture when you’re a kid, the concepts become baked into the way you construct your identity, your perception of self, and your perception of your sexuality. It’s practically intrinsic, by the time you’re an adult, to feel shame any time you’re reminded you have a body, much less a sexuality.

According to the chapels I sat through every week as a kid, a girl's body could be 3 things: an intentional stumbling block for men, an accidental stumbling block for men, or unnoticeable. Women were to strive for the third option so as to keep their (and their male friends/authority figures) purity intact. After all, if a boy, or even your male teacher, had impure thoughts about you, it was your fault for tempting them (which, holy shit. I still can’t believe that was a thing I bought into for so long. If my 45 yr old grown-ass teacher had impure thoughts because he could see my 12 yr old collarbone, that sure as hell wasn’t my fault. But I digress.) The Only time a woman’s body can be something else, is when she gives it to her husband, at which point she must suddenly flip the switch in her brain that she is now allowed to be a Sexual Being and she must perform Sexual Duties despite living in outright fear of her own body and sexuality for years (decades?) up until this point. Jesus take the wheel.

Purity culture isn’t a thing you can just decide to walk away from if you’ve grown up in it. Because its ideology is insidious and internalized. So first you need to submit to the fact that you’re going to be fucked up about sex. It sounds like you’re there. Second, you need to interrogate what you believe. If you’re leaving religion behind entirely, you’ll approach removing yourself from purity culture differently than if you still identify as a Christian. It sounds like you might be the latter, which meant, for me, separating what’s actually biblical and what’s shitty, contrived, doctrine that I was told is biblical but is actually more political than spiritual. This helps you address the shame issue.

You need to throw away I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Lady in Waiting and all those ridiculous books you read and reread in the hopes of somehow obtaining impossible marriage perfection and look into actual scripture interpreted within its historical context. I could write a book on this, but the TL;DR is that the text of the Bible was written, translated, curated, and changed multiple times over thousands of years by human beings with human biases and, often, personal and/or political agendas. It contradicts itself! Reading it as it is—a flawed historical document—rather than some sort of God-breathed perfect document—is incredibly freeing. When you do, you’ll probably realize that purity culture is bullshit on a spiritual level. Which is a good start, if that matters to you. Because any time you start to feel shame or guilt you can ask yourself: does God actually care if I wear a bikini or touch a dick I’m not married to? Probably not. Wear the bikini. Touch the dick.

The most important therapy session for me was when my therapist asked what I would do if I got to heaven and God was actually the God I’d been raised to fear. What would I do if he condemned me for being bisexual and having premarital sex and becoming educated, for arguing with men, and failing to isolate while menstruating, and wearing mixed fabrics? If Montero had come out at the point, I probably would have said I’d pole dance down to hell. Instead, I said I would spit on heaven’s gates. If a god that cruel and that pointlessly demeaning really exists—a god who would create in me condemned desire—I won't worship him. The good news is, I’m 99% sure he doesn’t exist. At the very least, he isn’t supported by scripture.

Okay. The final thing you need to do is figure out what you actually want, sexually speaking. This bit is probably the hardest. I’m still in the early stages of this myself. You say: “I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???” Bro, I wish I had an easy answer for you. For me, whenever I’m feeling anxious about Sex Things, I tell myself: 1. My God does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 2. My partner does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 3. I do not equate my worth to my sexual habits. It seems silly, but reminding myself of those three things is massively helpful. If, after I’ve sorted through those, I’m still anxious or uncomfortable, I stop doing the thing. I evaluate. Am I overwhelmed and I need to try again some other time? Do I just not like the thing? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Sometimes you change your mind. Sometimes you just don’t know. That’s why having a partner who you trust and who’s willing to patiently explore your interests (and respect your disinterests) is so important. Half the battle, for me, was having a partner who told me they’d be ok with no sex at all. Because that took the pressure off me. If the bare minimum they need is nothing, then anything more than that is a bonus! Hooray! This is maybe TMI, but let me tell you. I thought I was asexual* right up until I was able to have moderately non-anxious sex. Never in my life did I think I would initiate a sexual situation but… I do now. It’s a fun thing to do with a person I love and, holy shit. I am furious that I nearly missed out on it.

Finally, re birth control: I don’t know how you can approach that fear in a way that works for you. If you don’t want to ever have penetrative sex, that’s fine! If that’s a point of anxiety you can’t get rid of, then don't push yourself to do it. If you find out you like other sex things, do the other sex things! If you don't like doing any sex things, don't do any sex things! Also, have you considered sleeping with people who can’t get you pregnant? Always an option if it’s an option you want to consider. ;)

Okay. I hope this was even a little bit helpful. Sorry if it’s a little convoluted, I typed it up in bursts during my work breaks.

*This is not at all to say that asexuality can be “fixed." Rather, it’s to say that things like purity culture can drastically confuse your sexuality in general. If you’re asexual, then this process is still important to discover what you like/dislike. Then you can be explicit about those necesities and find a partner who’s a good fit (if you want a partner at all, that is).

#purity culture #sex talk #christianity #sex and relationships #sex and religion #mylife #answered asks #aspec #cw sex

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years ago

Text

weird, m | ksj

pairing(s): seokjin x reader

summary: Your roommate and best friend, Kim Seokjin, forgot to double-check the autofill information and shipped his package from the online sex shop with your name on it. Naturally, this ends with you tying him up and sucking his dick, and him tying you up with you riding him like a wild animal. Wait, what?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; friends with benefits; crack (sorry, I can't be serious for more than two seconds when writing Seokjin); yes, reader usually fucks younger dudes XD; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics (both switches), bondage, m-receiving oral, thigh riding, cowgirl, spanking); non-idol!BTS - just two best friends fucking for sexual exploration, don't mind them

technically a prequel to love roulette, m | myg yes, this is the explanation to that mysterious package, but is it really an explanation or rather an excuse to fuck WWH, you decide

“Seokjin, can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

When Kim Seokjin looked at you, it was a bit like looking into the eyes someone much younger than you even though he wasn’t. He had that youth about him, the ‘here’s-to-never-growing-up’ sparkle in his large brown eyes, complete with parted lips in a small ‘o’ and, alright, yes, his Nintendo Switch in his hands.

“A long time ago, I asked you which way you think you lean, more dominant or more submissive, no?”

His handsome face flushed pink, slowly scooting away from you.

“Er… yeah, I remember…”

“What?”

“Huh?”

You poked him and he squeaked, slapping a hand over his side even though he was wearing a brown sweatshirt. Seokjin was always cold, even during the summer.

Your best friend was an odd character.

You chuckled. “Why are you being so awkward? I thought we were over this phase.”

Well, he should be. You had known Seokjin since elementary school and seen him, er, date was a strong word for what you both were doing in middle and high school, more like being bumbling messes and walking in on each other bonking classmates, but, hey, what mattered is that you both got better at it over the years.

It being sex.

Not romance.

You both still had only sketchy ideas about what romance was supposed to be.

“We are,” your best friend coughed, clearing his throat for absolutely no reason. “We are, I just…”

“Used my name for purchasing goods from an online sex shop?”

He choked and nearly flung his Switch. You caught it, swiftly placing it on the coffee table as you procured the cardboard box from behind your back, already open, address and name circled in thick black permanent marker on the rather inconspicuous package.

“W-What, that’s absurd, why would I ever–?”

You hummed pleasantly, sweeping the box away from his lanky limbs and his flailing hands. For someone who didn’t purchase goods from an online sex shop, he sure was interested in getting the box. He tumbled into your lap, and quickly scrambled back, black hair suddenly fluffed and wild from the movement.

“Something tells me you didn’t check the autocomplete form before clicking submit.”

You saw Seokjin choke on air.

He jerked away from you and fumbled with his phone beside him. You peeked over his broad shoulder and saw that he was scrolling through his emails like a madman, except Seokjin had a bad habit of never deleting any. He had maybe fifteen thousand unread emails to sort though.

“You don’t have to check. I am sure I didn’t order red cotton bondage rope and a leather flogger.”

Seokjin whipped his head around, face redder than a tomato, looking halfway between fainting and screaming.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is it for you or a mysterious imaginary girl that you’re dating?”

Now your best friend seemed to be contemplating holding his own breath until he passed out to avoid your questioning.

“I-It’s not for me!”

“Oooh, then who? You’re not an internet hookup kind of guy though… unless she was dumb enough to put her full name as her username, then she’s too airheaded to be a catfish–”

Seokjin flapped his hands, smacking you in your pajama-covered chest, sputtering. “No one! There’s no one! I just…!”

You caught one of his wrists, raising an eyebrow.

“Just?”

He froze.

Silence.

“… Seokjin?”

You left go of his hand. It stayed there, frozen in the air.

Ah, it seemed as if his soul left his body.

Rest in peace Kim Seokjin. You were the handsomest best friend one could ask for.

You prodded him in the side again and Seokjin doubled over, trying to cover his face with the large sleeves of his sweatshirt, long legs in black sweatpants curling up as if he could cocoon himself away from the conversation.

“Seokjin, you can be interested in whatever you want,” you snickered, placing the package next to his fetal positioned body. “I simply thought it was funny that you accidentally used my name. Although I wouldn’t use that flogger on a real person, only for posing in pictures. In any case, have fun being freaky by yourself and not for some mysterious woman you refuse to tell me about.”

You stood up, about to leave and give your best friend some space. You shouldn’t go too far teasing him after all.

“What do you mean?”

You stopped, looking back. Seokjin’s large brown eyes were peeking out of his splayed fingers, shifting awkwardly when you made eye contact. He cleared his throat. He was doing that a lot for someone who seemed perfectly healthy ten minutes ago, shrieking at himself for missing the ledge in his game and dying.

It had seemed like a good time to interrupt and embarrass him so you could save your eardrums.

He coughed and pointed to the box. “About the… um… whip… thingmabob…”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?”

You marched over and opened the box, making Seokjin jolt and cover his red ears instinctively, but you ignored him, pulling out the black pleather flogger you had already unwrapped from the plastic – purely from thinking it was your own package, by the way, no other reason, surely not because you were mildly curious about what your best friend was into, nope – and you slapped the short three tails into your hand, wincing.

“This kind of cheap material is too plastic-like. If you use this on bare skin and hit too hard, you’re going to cut someone and I know you’re squeamish around blood, unless you secretly have a blood fetish too and have been a really good actor all this time–”

“How do you know that?”

You blinked at his question.

“What?”

Seokjin sat up, giving you a confused pout. “Why do you know something like that?”

Now it was your turn to shift your eyes around.

“Uh…”

Er… how to tell your best friend that the younger guy you were casually fucking for the past couple of weeks was, ah, rather knowledgeable about certain things, was, um, interested in teaching, uh, yeah, teaching…

Seokjin squinted at you suspiciously. “Is it that idol trainee that was here two nights ago when I was out drinking with Hose–”

You waved your hands very quickly, tossing the flog aside carelessly and slapping your thigh to silence Seokjin and his far too invasive questions. “Look. I just don’t want you to hurt anybody on accident, okay? Your rope choice was good though. You should always use an organic material for shibari, cotton, hemp, linen if you’re rich, but you’re a cheapskate, so–”

Your best friend narrowed his eyes into slits. “How much younger is that guy compared to you again? Hm? And what was his name? Ye–”

You slapped a hand over Seokjin’s mouth, smiling sweetly and dangerously, reaching into the box and pulling out the red cotton rope.

“I know a lot of knots now and I can tie a noose just for you, Seokjinnie.”

Your best friend, rightfully so, looked terrified.

“Now. Let’s talk about you, okay? Okay.”

You removed your hand and held onto the rope.

Seokjin gulped, but then shook his head vigorously, frowning. “What did you call it?” He was already moving past your death threat. Smart man.

“Call what?”

“Shi-something?”

“Shibari? Japanese rope tying?” You lifted the cotton cord in your hand. “Is that not what this is for?”

Seokjin blinked very rapidly.

You blinked back at him. Then it dawned onto you. “The diamond-y rope patterns where they’re all tied up and stuff.”

“Ah! Yeah! That!”

“You want that done to you?”

Seokjin jerked to one side. “What? No! To someone else. Maybe. No. What?”

You slowly placed the rope on his lap and scooted away.

“Uh… huh. Okay. Enjoy.”

“Wait,” he blurted.

“What?”

“CanIpracticeonyou?”

“Can you WHAT?” you echoed shrilly.

“Right, yeah, okay, never mind–”

“Seokjin.”

Your best friend choked on his own toothbrush and threw himself into the bathroom wall, colliding into the towel bar and howling in pain while simultaneously hacking up a lung.

“I’ve decided I am going to teach you some simple knots to prevent me from having to pick your naked ass up from the police station or hospital,” you said calmly as Seokjin half-died on the floor tangled in your mint green and his navy-blue bath towels. “And because I don’t want to have to cut some poor girl off your bedframe because you’ve blacked out running onto your door trying to find me.”

“I’ve never–” he wheezed.

“But you will if I don’t take precautions,” you cut in, grabbing your purple toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it as Seokjin attempted to collect himself off the ground. “Like that one time you ran into the window when that wasp was in the apartment.”

“That was a fucking wasp, you freaked out too!”

You started brushing your teeth. “Yeah, but I didn’t knock myself out and wake up with a fat bump on my forehead. That was you,” you gargled.

“Ack…”

“Anyway, I know a few things and I figured I would do a good deed and enlighten you.”

“Who taught you? Was it Ye–”

You jabbed Seokjin forcefully in the ribs and he immediately shut up because he choked on his toothbrush again.

“Why do you have scissors?”

“For cutting the rope.”

“Yeah, but why are they so big?”

“That’s what she said.”

Seokjin narrowed his eyes. “I hate you.”

“Cool, now I’m gonna tie you up. Give me your hands.”

You unwound the end from the bolt and frowned, nudging his knee with yours. You were both sitting on his bed, him cross legged and you on your knees because he was wearing black sweatpants and you were wearing no pants, just your usual large lavender pajama shirt with a pattern of yellow stars.

“Take off your sweatshirt. It’ll get in the way.”

“But I’m cold.”

“You won’t be because apparently this shit turns you on,” you snickered.

“Shut up, it does not. It’s the other way around,” Seokjin grumbled, yanking his chocolate brown sweatshirt over his head.

You paused.

“I thought you were more sub.”

Seokjin froze, head half-out of his sweatshirt. You waited. He didn’t move. You waited some more. He coughed and chucked the article of clothing aside, yanking his white t-shirt down and smoothing his hair, not looking at you.

You waited.

He smoothed his hair for a full two minutes.

“Um, anyway–”

You planted a hand on his knee and Seokjin tried to chop your hand away, only for you to snatch his wrist, so his other hand came up to stop you, but you wound the end of the rope around his wrist and bounced off his mattress, pinning your knees on top of his knees and making him squeak as he tumbled back into his pillows, bringing you with him. You had to jerk your head out of the way to avoid collision.

“My nuts!”

“I didn’t hit your precious nuts, you numbsku–”

Hang on.

You locked eyes with Seokjin under you, who gawked back at you, absolutely terrified.

“… You are still a sub.”

Seokjin winced. “Ugh, it’s just… I’m getting older, alright? I can change my mind…”

You could get off him. You could let it be. You totally could.

But were you going to?

No.

You straddled his abdomen and brought his hands to his chest with a big grin. Seokjin’s eyes turned into giant brown saucers. He looked ready to pass out and not from your weight because you weren’t putting much weight on him.

“W-W-What are y-you d-doing?!” he shrieked.

You rapped him in the forehead. “Teaching. Pay attention. Hands up.”

“You aren’t taking your rings off?”

He was referring to the three silver rings you wore on a daily basis – an onyx stone on your left middle finger, a goat-head shaped ring on your right thumb, and a skull with a jester hat on your right ring finger.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why do I need to take them off?”

He lifted his hands and gave you an exaggerated shrug in between your thighs. Come to think of it, Seokjin had a rather broad chest so you had to spread your legs pretty wide to accommodate and hover over him.

Precarious.

“Ah, perfect.”

Your best friend yelped as you wrapped the rope around his wrists, leaving the end sticking out between them, first focusing on loosely binding. He tried to break away, but you harshly squeezed his sides with your thighs, narrowing your eyes.

“Stop squirming.”

He froze at your cold tone, shifting his eyes awkwardly.

“Watch. Now.”

His eyes immediately snapped to your hands.

“Wrists together.” You nudged them so the inner parts of the wrists were touching. “A little space in the center,” you added, looping out the end of the rope. “I’m just teaching you how I learned it, there are a few ways, but the details are important so you don’t prevent loss of circulation,” you added seriously, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “So, wind it around a couple times, but don’t overlap. Four or five?”

“But I can still get out.”

You glared at him. Seokjin shut up and jammed his plush pink lips together, shaking his head rapidly as if to say, who me? I wasn’t talking!

“Turn it ninety degrees like this,” you demonstrated. “And start going perpendicular to and in between the wrists to create the binding. Line up each coil side by side. Mind the starting end here. Then…” You reached for the scissors and snipped the excess away, dropping the rope and scissors beside you on the bed. “You tie it off on the outside. I use a square knot, so this end over this end, and then retie it the opposite way. Try to break free.”

Seokjin frowned at the red rope around his wrists, twisting it this way and that, squirming underneath your legs. You put your hands on your waist triumphantly, nodding to yourself in pride. You did a good job! It looked neat and it was inescapable without tightening on any blood vessels to cause any dangerous loss of circulation.

Hang on.

Seokjin froze.

You froze.

You both looked down.

You smacked him in the cheek.

“Ow!”

“What are you looking there for?!”

“Why did you hit me? Why do you always resort to violence?!” Seokjin accused, jabbing you underneath your breasts with his bound hands. “What is going on down there?”

“Nothing! Stop moving!”

“No!”

“You–”

You closed your thighs around Seokjin’s waist and sat down on him, causing him to gasp, wind knocked out of him as his diaphragm was pushed up into his lungs, struggling with the rope between his wrists and resorting to slamming them down on the bed above his head. You growled as you towered over him. He started yelling, as he always did.

“Yah!”

You slapped your free hand over his mouth.

“Silence.”

He glared at you behind your palm, breathing hard. You sat on top of him, breathing just as hard. He was bigger, strong, yes, but not in the position of power and – being honest, after all – your best friend was never really out to fight you and win. He was more of a ‘I’m-going-to-be-stupidly-annoying-until-you-do-what-I-want’ type, which made him rather childish in some ways. You were more of the ‘I’m-gonna-beat-your-ass’ type.

In conclusion, it was a healthy friendship.

Seokjin started licking your palm and making crazy eyes at you.

Your eye twitched.

“Stop it.”

Unsurprisingly, he did not, in fact, stop it.

“I said, stop it.”

And you slid down, past the wet spot now on his t-shirt, planting your soaked panties on top of his crotch, grinding down, and, yup, Seokjin bucked and yelped, immediately stopping and seizing up as if he could hide the massive erection that you had been willing to ignore but he was being a little – nah, actually, an extra-large, supersized – shit and it was getting on your last nerve, so what better way to resolve a wordless argument (on his part, heh) then humping his hard-on?

You removed your hand and Seokjin had a brief moment to gasp your name before you slid the pads of your fingers onto his tongue, rubbing it roughly and making his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

“I told you to stop, but you aren’t listening,” you snarled.

Seokjin whimpered, brown orbs glassy, pupils blown out.

You stilled.

Hold on a second.

You had a brief epiphany where you realized you were grinding on your best friend’s dick with him tied up and you were wetter than the Yellow Sea. This wasn’t some guy you picked up at the night market that won you that sleeping Pikachu at the claw machines, only to chat him up and end up with bed with a guy who was – ack, never mind his age – anyway, this was your best friend.

Kim Seokjin.

Oh shit, I’ve gone too far.

You let go, backing up. “S… Sorry, I–”

But then Seokjin’s plush lips closed around your fingers, sucking hard and you choked slightly, feeling his hips roll and the tip of his clothed erection hit your covered clit. He was glaring at you. You gasped as his teeth gently but firmly caught your two fingers. It did hurt, but only a little. Mostly it sent a rush of rather uncomfortable and mind-boggling arousal racing from your knuckles to your core, drenching your panties further.

“Don’t stop,” he mumbled around your fingers.

Don’t stop?

DON’T STOP?

His teeth let go, panting, staring into your eyes.

“Don’t make this weird,” Seokjin muttered, shifting his gaze. “Don’t make this weird, okay?”

His brown eyes flickered back to you. His bound hands were still over his head, black hair flaring out of his pillows, white t-shirt messed up, still trapped between your thighs. You paused, fingers slipping out of his lips, the pads trailing on his lower lip, turning it glossy with his saliva.

Your heart was racing fast.

He furrowed his dark brows and, for the first time, his serious expression made you think that perhaps, maybe, there was a side of him down there, the other side to the coin.

“I just…” Seokjin exhaled slowly, not looking away from you. “I trust you to do this. You’re capable and knowledgeable. I know you are. Word gets around with your, er, habits with younger guys…”

You felt your cheeks heat and you scratched your head awkwardly.

“Anyway, it’s fine if you wanna… er… get off. With me. Because I’m so handsome and all.”

You were thiiiiiiis close to leaving out of sheer embarrassment that instantly dissipated at Seokjin’s sudden unexpected self-compliment. Instead, your eye twitched and you squinted in annoyance.

Seokjin coughed, ears singeing bright red. “Unless you can’t, of course. Because it’s easy to fall in love with me, and that would be very bad considering I don’t want to marry you–”

“I don’t want to marry you either,” you snapped. “You’re ugly.”

Seokjin gasped dramatically, highly offended. “How dare you–!”

He abruptly sat up and you twisted back, only for his arms to swing over your head and sandwich you between his tied wrists and his chest, ramming you back onto his lap and his hard dick. You hissed and bit down your moan, not willing to admit it was mildly turning you on, because of course neither you or Seokjin hated each other – only in that classic way best friends hate and love each other at the same time – and, yeah, sure, you could admit Seokjin was handsome and cute and fun to be around, but he wasn’t the one, not that you knew what the one was supposed to feel like or knew if you would ever feel such an intense, romantic love, but you had this strange idea that the one for you would be someone who could understand you on a different level, and you didn’t have that with Seokjin even if you did talk all the time. You were quite sure the feeling was mutual and now, looking into his brown eyes with a scowl, you saw that the feeling was indeed mutual.

Also, Seokjin was an immature shithead.

A loveable, worldwide handsome, immature shithead. Redeemable.

Still.

You were horny.

And Seokjin was horny.

You weren’t going to date Seokjin ever, but your best friend was hot as hell and you could definitely bang him without any regrets.

“Let’s fuck,” he breathed into your face.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t make it weird.”

Don’t make it weird, yeah, okaaay dude–

Your thoughts were suddenly cut off when Seokjin kissed you.

His forearms closed in behind your back and he pressed his bound wrists into your shoulder blades, pushing you into his solid chest and his embrace, taking your breath away. He always had good hugs, even if they were just to comfort you when your favorite flavor of ice lollys stopped being stocked at your local grocery store – still tragic to this day – and even when he was clinging onto you like a howling monkey because a cockroach was in the bathroom and he was screaming at you to kill it and nearly blowing out your eardrums, even then…

Now.

You closed your legs in around his hips and rolled your crotch into him, suddenly kissing him back.

He gasped into your mouth, your eyes half-opening, him gazing back at you, long lashes and dark eyebrows and glowing tan skin, holy shit, your best friend was handsome as fuck, why did other men even try when Kim Seokjin existed?

“Are you falling in love with me because I’m so handsome?” Seokjin teased, nipping at your lower lip.

Your eye twitched. Oh, yes, that’s right, because you’re annoying.

You shoved him and he yelped, clutching your back as you both fell onto the bed with a flump! You slid out from under his arms, skin prickling at Seokjin’s involuntary whine at your departure. Don’t make this weird, yeah, okay, don’t turn me on this much, dumbass, you are reminding me of… You pushed the thought away.

You didn’t want to think about other people when the person you were touching was right in front of you.

“What are you – yah!”

You gripped the waistband of his sweatpants and yanked down, exposing his underwear – bright blue, nice, nice – and his clothed erection, leaning in, hot breath ghosting over it, Seokjin jerking his arms about because he seemed undecided on either if he wanted to see or not see, but you let him deal with that in his own time, lowering your mouth, tongue extended, fingers splayed over his hips, silver rings glinting in his bedroom lights.

“You look like a demon,” you heard from above you.

You planted your tongue on the spot where the head of his cock would be and soaked it with saliva.

“F-Fuck!”

That shut him up real quick.

Your eyes drifted up, lapping slowly, barely stimulating the sensitive head through his underwear, closing your lips around it so the fabric clung wetly to the taut skin underneath. His cock swelled and twitched under your mouth; the action was mirrored by Seokjin’s jaw. He was clenching it along with his hands balled into fists, gasping for breath.

“O-Oh, f-fuck…!”

You were beginning to get the hint with each passing second of working your tongue around his rapidly hardening cock. Seokjin had put himself in the sub category when you asked back then because he liked to things being done for him. It was less about the mental aspect and more of the physical acts of service in his case. However, he wasn’t very good at articulating what he wanted and thus the natural pattern of someone just doing it led to, ah, exhibit A.

You currently parting your lips and letting your tongue snake out, coating the length with saliva.

But.

You could see it in his eyes, that burning intensity.

Maybe part of it was because it was you. He probably didn’t have those butterfly jitters of trying to woo a stranger or the nervousness of looking bad in the honeymoon phase of a relationship. There was already a level of comfort – and the ability to readily shit-talk each other at any moment – and so Seokjin was free to relax, even if it was a bizarre situation of sexual discovery.

“Take it off,” he growled.

Your fingers creeped up his sides, hooking over his boxer briefs. Slow, deliberate, kissing up his length, on the tightrope, dominant in your control, submissive in the action, raising your head so Seokjin could lift his hips, feathering kisses on the exposed skin and making him hiss and shudder, eyelids fluttering, slipping into subservience a little.

At the end of the day, who killed the unwanted bugs in your shared apartment?

Yeah, you.

“Oh, f… fucking shit…”

You tilted your head and ran your tongue up and down the length, licking up the sides and circling around the thick head, bordering on frustratingly soft, switching to wet, sloppy kisses when his hands raised, making him pause, gazing down at you curiously and attentively, entranced by the action. You ducked down, tongue slurping around his balls, lifting his cock, kissing, sucking, eyes closing, tip of your wet muscle drawing zig-zag patterns that soft skin.

Seokjin moaned your name.

A shiver of electricity went up your spine.

Alright, fine, you were getting turned on.

You wrapped your lips around his balls and enveloped them both with your mouth.

“Whoa!”

You opened your eyes to see Seokjin staring wide-eyed at you, hands straight up to stare at you between his upper arms. You almost laughed at the hilarious triangular-looking pose, but your mouth was currently full, so you restrained yourself.

“That’s possible?! You can put both nuts in your mouth at the same time?!”

Uh.

Where you supposed to respond with your cheeks stuffed with his nutties?

You hummed casually in response.

“A-Ah…!”

Seokjin gasped at the vibrations and the movement of your tongue slapping all over them, short, rapid licks all over his skin, watching him with a cocked eyebrow, but he didn’t even notice, hands dropping and moaning to the ceiling, his eyes closing and savoring the hot wet warmth and the power of your mouth, shivering as your hand slowly stroked his length in time with your tongue.

You let him bask in it before detaching and swallowing his cock.

“Gah!”

Seokjiinie, you thought wryly, we gotta work on your repertoire of sex sounds.

You spied him looking down at you, so you paused around the swollen head and slid your tongue out, circling and wrapping around his length while sucking on the tip and rubbing the back of your tongue along the underside.

Seokjin made a bunch of weird croaking noises that were, strangely, rather attractive. Okay, you could admit it. You were kind of a sucker for your best friend in the most platonic way possible… while in the middle of sucking his dick.

What?

He was handsome!

You began to bob your head up and down, tongue and lips descending, taking him deep so you kissed the base of his cock, head buried in your throat, waiting for him to glance down at you, hazy brown orbs under lush lashes, and you would peek your tongue out and lap at his balls, interrupting the tightness, causing him to swear and jerk his hips up, urging you to keep consistent speed and pace, all the while watching every single movement of your tongue. You kept this irregular pace, slow, then fast, then slow again when he looked at you, then fast when the ecstasy was too much and he closed his eyes, over and over. You could see that a battle was being waged Seokjin’s pretty head, between wanting to observe the lewdness of you licking his balls with his hard cock buried in your throat while also desperately needing to get to the fuck off.

“You… bitch… suck me off properly, fuck…”

You raised all the way so only the head was in your mouth and sucked, rubbing up and around it, swirling all over, teasing the slit and soaking the sensitive skin, rutting it against the roof of your mouth and Seokjin groaned, pressing his head back into the pillows, black hair covering his eyes, fists pressed to his chest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, let me cum!”

His hips rammed up and you dug your nails into them, wincing as the head hit the top of your throat and slid down, cutting off your air, and then he began to thrust erratically, the position, inability to use his hands as leverage, and your resistance not letting him set up a good rhythm. You had to force him back down, popping your mouth off, snarling.

“I’m gonna gag if you do that! You want me to vomit on your dick or what?”

But all of a sudden Seokjin sat up again, grabbing your pajama shirt and yanking you to him, saliva dripping down your chin and then it was on his chin, a messy, savage kiss, ravenous need in his actions, pulling you to him, close, closer, you twisting and then gasping as he pushed one of your thighs down, planting your soaked panties on the exposed part of his thigh.

“Ah, Seok–”

He attacked your lips again with a light growl, sparks shooting across your skin, his thigh rising and bouncing you both on the bed, his legs still tangled in his pants and underwear but the effect was undeniable.

Seokjin was making you ride his thigh.

Whoa.

He bit your lower lip and sucked hard, your eyes fluttering closed, hips rocking, heat turning hotter, wet turning wetter, your sticky, sweet juices clinging to his upper thigh, your own pressed against his saliva-covered cock, wrapping your arms around him, close, closer, you thrusting your tongue in his mouth and him moaning before he did the same to you, starting a tug of war, rubbing harder against his skin, his muscle tensing against your covered clit, friction and wetness everywhere, too many clothes and no eye contact, one of your hands slipping into his black locks and tilting his head, deepening the kiss and inhaling his exhale, shuddering at the erotic nature of the moment.

He mumbled your name against your lips, still clutching your pajamas, stars bunched in his hands, fingertips pressed into the curve of your breasts.

“Can I try the rope tying now?” Seokjin whispered, voice gravelly and low.

“Excuse me?”

There was a ripped-open condom wrapper sitting on the bed.

“What?”

Your pajama shirt, bra, and panties were on the floor, along with Seokjin’s shirt, sweatpants, and underwear.

“Why are you – gah!”

You sucked in a breath as you sank down on his cock. Fuck, it was tight, tight as you lowered yourself onto his hips, Seokjin gasping and clutching the long length of red cotton rope that you had carefully untied from his wrists. You had even taken the extra step to massage them afterward, not that he needed it because of your careful work – good job, past you – but he appreciated it all the same, because deep down Kim Seokjin was a prince.

“Oh my God, you’re so tight, shit, shit, shit…”

You neglected to tell your best friend that you were both low-key proud of and turned on by your own ability to take dick without much foreplay. That little edge of tightness added just the right amount of spice of pain that amplified to the pleasure.

Okay.

And yes, you felt a special kind of glee as you witnessed Seokjin’s stunned shock and near passed-out expression from being inside you.

You held out your wrists and grinned. “Go ahead. Tie me up.”

Seokjin gawked at you like you had three heads.

You squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, tilting your head with a devilish grin.

“God, you’re so hot, but you look crazy,” he wheezed.

Your grin dropped and your eye twitched. “Is that supposed to be a compliment or…?”

Seokjin shrugged, and moved your hands so they were in the better position for him. Much to your annoyance, he didn’t elaborate.

“Um, let’s see, you left a bit out to use as a tie and…”

You began to rock your hips.

“H-Hey!”

The side of your lips curved upward. “What? We’re multitasking.”

“We–?” Seokjin choked, gritting his teeth as you pulsed around his hard length, rolling your hips gently, adjusting until you found a comfortable spot so the head hit you in just the right spot, ah, yes, right there, spreading your fingers out over his chest, leaning your forehead against his, not quite going full force but a slow, deliberate rhythm that wasn’t going to make either of you cum, but, damn, did it feel good.

Seokjin shuddered, gasping your name.

“Tie me up, Seokjin,” you murmured back, caressing his skin.

His eyes darted up, saturated with lust, searching your eyes, and you gazed back.

You could be a real jerk right now.

His hot exhale washed over your lips, a shudder of nervousness.

But this was your best friend, and he was trusting you.

You tilted your head and kissed him softly, flush against his plush lips.

“Come on,” you nudged his nose lightly. “Do it.”

You viewed him from under your lashes. He shivered. Almost.

He needed only one more little push.

“Want you, Seokjinnie,” you breathed against his skin, hints of need and desperation in your voice.

A small smile danced on his lips, staring into your eyes.

You might have fallen for him a little bit in that moment.

“Okay.”

He kissed the side of your mouth, a teasing little peck, and you smirked, turning your head so you wouldn’t break the image you had created for him, but he was already looking down, busily occupied with your wrists, so you drew back, focusing instead on riding him, closing your eyes. You built a leisurely, pleasurable pace, leaning forward a bit to rub your clit against the base of his cock, sighing contentedly at the way he filled you, a wonderful, thick, satisfying girth that you could get used to, other than the fact that most of the time Seokjin drove you up the wall, but, hey, maybe if both of you reached a certain age and you were still single, maybe you could marry your best friend solely for having accessible dick…

“Ah! Perfect.”

You cracked open one eye.

And tried not to burst out laughing.

“Erm… well…” you coughed, tugging at the rope a little. It looked messy and rather hideous, parts overlapping and twisting awkwardly, but he had the… basic idea? It wasn’t like you were going to do anything dumb anyway, so it was pretty good for a first time.

Seokjin frowned. “I don’t know how you did it so neatly…”

“You line up the coils next to each other – ah!”

He seemed to think that was good enough and grabbed handfuls of your ass, causing you to tip forward and brace your hands against his chest, gasping as his hips thrust up into you, abrupt pleasure blooming up your core, sudden squelch of wetness between your joined hips.

“Come on,” he grunted, clenching his jaw, tone getting deeper and more dangerous with each word. “I have to get off, and now.”

He smacked his hands down on your ass and you almost whimpered.

Almost.

Seokjin drew back a little, giving you a strange look.

“W… What?” you managed to get out.

He tilted his head. “Do you like that?”

You almost said, no, of course not, but you stopped yourself, looking down at the red rope tied around your wrists, heat flaring in your cheeks, ass stinging slightly from his slap.

His cock twitched inside you.

Your eyes flickered up to him. A sly smirk danced on your lips.

“Yeah. I like the things you do to me.”

You saw Seokjin pause, brown eyes widening a little, black hair over his forehead.

You pushed him down on the bed. He gasped, but he was used to it now, gripping your ass and tipping his head back as you began to really ride him, waving your hips to ram his cock into your pussy, not even noticing the moan seeping from your lips, fuck, it was good, fulfilling and deep, your bound hands on his chest, fingers spread out and nails digging into his skin a little, but Seokjin seemed to be into it, his own nails sinking into your ass, pushing you down with every descent, hitting you harder, rougher, intensifying the pleasure, building onto it. Hot breath, warm skin, joined hips, loud slaps, rocking bedframe, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, gazing at each other through half-lidded eyes, not quite seeing each other but drowning in the gratification, the roughness, gasping sharply as his open palm smacked down on your ass again, making it bounce and jiggle in his hands, your core and thighs squeezing tighter, witnessing his tight hiss of desire, mesmerized by your sound so he did it again, spanking the other cheek, and you did it again, whimper creeping out, arousal consuming his handsome features, intoxicated by your reaction to his action so he did it again and again, hard, stinging slaps as you rode his stiff, quivering cock harder and faster, fuck, Seokjin must be incredibly turned on because he was so fucking hard, just so incredibly sexy how hard he was right now, even the pain was nothing but an injection of added carnal pleasure, throwing your head back and sinking your nails into his skin, fucking him recklessly, forgetting about hiding your moans, who the fuck cared, not you and not him because Seokjin too was crying out, the sinful sound of sex echoing off his bedroom walls, except instead of you in your bedroom putting headphones on to drown him out, you were in his bedroom, doing it, fucking the daylights out of him.

Alright.

You could see why girls wanted to date your best friend now.

Seokjin was a loud dork, but he had a great dick.

“F-Fuck, Seokjin, fuck!”

He had a similar response, although it was more a choked garble of your name mixed with, “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

You must really be drunk on his dick because even that turned you on and tipped you over the edge.

Your thighs tensed and you moaned deeply, tucking your chin down and spreading your palms onto his pecs, wrists straining against the cotton rope, a rapid torrent of adrenaline soaring through you and then you smacked your ass down onto Seokjin’s crotch, whining as you came in vicious pulses of pleasure, clenching around his jerking length and you realized Seokjin was clutching your ass, pinning it down so you couldn’t move, shooting his release into the condom, so much that you felt his cock shudder and throb inside you, head buried in your deepest, most pleasurable spot, you feeling all of him and him feeling all of you.

Holy shit.

You almost saw stars.

“Hah… wow… I guess I can’t blame younger dudes for wanting this pussy…”

Your eyes weren’t open but your eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

“Shut up, Seokjin.”

“Come on, man! Look what you did!” Seokjin barked accusingly, pointing to his chest with red indents of your rings.

“Excuse me? I’m the one who has scratches and a bruised ass!”

“You’ve marred my beautiful skin! I should fine you!”

“Where’s that fuckin’ whip – get your naked ass back here, Kim Seokjin!”

Hm, well, maybe you would find your true love some other time. Maybe try gambling?

masterpost

#seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin smut #bts smut #kim seokjin smut #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you

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nev3rfound · 4 years ago

Text

someone i once knew : b.b

bucky is left alone in the compound whilst the rest of the avengers are sent on a mission. yet, to bucky’s surprise he isn’t alone as he’s about to meet tony’s new assistant and someone from his past. (3.4k)

(anything in bold/italics are flashbacks/memories!)

masterlist / permanent taglist

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX

“You sure you’ll manage on your own?” Steve asks as he walks alongside Bucky.

Bucky quirks a brow at his oldest friend. “What, you don’t trust me?” He quips back, hearing Sam let out a dry laugh from the quinjet as he helps load the last of the supplies. “He doesn’t get an opinion.” Bucky adds, and Steve chuckles under his breath.

“I do trust you, Buck. But I just wanna make sure you’re okay being on your own here.” Steve explains, crossing his arms as Bucky buries his hands into his jacket pockets.

It was going to be Bucky’s first time being completely alone in the compound. Everyone else was required for a mission, and Bucky simply wasn’t needed this time. Initially, it stung a little- that Sam was going over him, but some downtime never hurt anyone, right?

“I’ll be alright, Steve.” Bucky states as Tony emerges from the elevator, huffing loudly as he looks at his phone.

“Oh, tin man? Do me a favour and don’t scare my new assistant,” Tony calls out, and Bucky looks to Steve who simply shrugs his shoulders.

“Since when did you hire an assistant?” Steve asks, and Tony stops beside them, locking his phone as he puts it into his pocket.

“Since I lost the last one,” Tony retorts.

“You married your old assistant, Tony.” Bucky comments and Tony simply rolls his eyes.

“Just, don’t scare her off, she has potential.” Tony remarks before carrying on toward the Quinjet, leaving Steve to bid farewell to Bucky.

Stepping back, Bucky rolls on his heels. “Guess I won’t be completely alone after all.” Bucky huffs. It is one thing to be alone in the compound with one of the other Avengers, but someone he hasn’t even met yet, that’s a level of confidence and comfortability he has yet to reach.

“Hey,” Steve pats Bucky’s shoulder. “you’ll be fine, just be your charming self.”

“I think he died back in the forties, pal.” Bucky mutters as he shrugs it off, it’s only for a few weeks at most.

“Just, don’t do anything stupid till I get back.” Steve says softly as he steps back from Bucky, turning around toward the Quinjet.

Shuffling on the spot, Bucky watches as they leave. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky mumbles to himself as he walks back into the compound, wandering whereabouts his company for the next few weeks is hiding out.

It had been a quiet few days and Bucky had still yet to meet the newest addition to Starks team and started to wonder if Tony was messing with him for the fun of it.

At least, he thought as much until he was training in the gym when the faint sound of the piano caught his attention.

Pausing his work out, Bucky couldn’t stop his curiosity from getting the better of him as he exits the gym, hearing a familiar melody clearly coming from the shared living space in the compound.

As stealthily as possible, Bucky enters the open space and can make out a figure sat at the usually absent grand piano. Tony purchased it a year ago to fill the space, even though no one could play, it did work in making the compound look somewhat homely.

Stepping further into the room, Bucky knew the song, his Mother always played it on her radio and witnessed her and his Father dancing to it.

Humming the tune, you remain oblivious to the company creeping into the room as you remain concealed by the bonnet of the piano.

“Wake and dream medley?” Bucky speaks up, and you jump in your seat, hitting the keys of the piano causing an awful blunt sound to echo in the open space. “Sorry,” Bucky adds, now retreating into himself as you remain hidden. “I, I could hear you from the gym, I love, loved that song.”

“No need to apologise,” You chuckle, and Bucky tenses upon hearing your voice.

It sounds so familiar, too familiar for his liking.

Rising to your feet, you rub your hands together before closing the bonnet of the piano, now in full view to Bucky who can feel his whole body shutting down.

Bucky steps back in disbelief, clinging onto the sofa behind him with all his might as you hesitantly step forward. “I’m sorry for not introducing myself sooner, Mr Stark had me doing a fair bit of paperwork so I’ve been holed up in my suite for the past few days.” You explain, but Bucky can’t seem to meet your gaze. “I’m Y/n,”

You extend your arm, holding your hand out to Bucky who stares in disbelief.

“Is this some kinda cruel joke?” Bucky questions, slowly looking up at your confused expression. “Y/n, is it really you?” He stares at you, but your confusion only deepens as you lower your arm back to your side.

“Are you alright?” You ask, but Bucky continues to eye you with evident shock. “Have we met before?”

A dry laugh leaves Bucky’s lips as he straightens himself up. “Do you not know me?” His voice is breaking as you shake your head, and Bucky can feel the moment of relief in his heartbreak once again.

“I’m sorry, you must have me mistaken with someone else?” You nervously laugh, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Bucky simply nods and straightens himself up. “I’m Bucky, Bucky Barnes. And I do apologise for that, you just remind me of an old friend.” Bucky brushes it off, knowing it’s not possible, it just can’t be.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Bucky,” You tell him with a smile, one that Bucky once knew and loved, but he forces himself to remove that thought, it isn’t her. “the song I, I guess it was from your time?” You ask, moving back over to the piano and opening the bonnet.

“Yeah,” Bucky walks over, leaning against it as you take a seat, resuming the melody as if you had never paused. “I remember it growing up. How come you know it?”

Your fingers glide over the keys effortlessly and your eyes close for a moment. Whilst they’re closed, Bucky takes the chance to look at you properly, noting your distinct features, identical to the girl he once knew.

“I’m not sure,” You admit, lifting your fingers from the keys as you glance up at Bucky. “I, I just do.” Your brows furrow together, and Bucky notes how you look back at the piano.

“Well, it’s a nice song, so thank you for playing it.” Bucky speaks up. “I’ll be around, so I’ll be seeing you.” He mutters before exiting the room and rushes back to the gym, barely hearing you saying goodbye.

Once Bucky is gone, you look back at the piano. There’s no sheet music, but you knew the song, you knew the exact keys to play and the words as you hummed along.

There was something about Bucky, something amicable and undeniably so. You could feel it in the back of your mind, a nagging sensation to remember, remember something, anything. Yet, as always nothing follows through.

You and Bucky had been living in the compound for an entire week, and you had only come across him three times in total. The first at the piano, the second was after an attempted run; Bucky watched as you reentered the compound soaking from head to toe after being caught in a rainstorm. You tried to make a joke, but Bucky merely grumbled and walked off in the opposite direction. And the third well, that was this morning.

The smell of burnt toast woke you up, and you rushed from your suite to the shared floor where the kitchen is located.

“Stupid toaster,” Bucky groans under his breath as he throws the toast into the bin, slamming the lid shut with his metal hand, nearly leaving an indent.

“You alright there?” Your voice is so soft, and Bucky can feel the tension between his shoulders ease.

Lifting his metal arm up, Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I just got distracted.” He shrugs as he turns around to look at you in your pyjamas, just a t-shirt and joggers. A lot more casual than the girl he remembers in the forties.

“Happens to the best of us,” You joke, moving past him to grab a mug. “want one?” You hold a second mug up, and Bucky nods.

He remains quiet as you pour him a cup and slide it across the counter to him. “Look alive!” You call out, and he grasps it firmly.

Silence falls between you both as you look over your shoulder to see Bucky holding the mug in his metal fingers, a distant gaze over his eyes. “Real smooth, Y/n.” Bucky eventually speaks up, followed by a short laugh as he raises the mug to his lips.

“I’ve never done that before,” You admit, now leaning against the counter.

Laughter fills the bar as soldiers pass through with open arms and cheers for a new day. “Hey, look alive!” You yell as you slide across a bottle of beer to the brunette soldier.

“Thanks, Y/n.” His bright blue eyes focus on yours as he winks before patting his blond friend on the shoulder and walks closer toward you, yet the closer he gets, the more blurred he becomes. “Y-”

“Y/n?” Bucky calls out, snapping you from your thoughts. “You in there?”

“Sorry,” You look up from your mug, forcing a small smile. “got a bit lost in my head for a moment.” You mutter. “I, I’m going to go get ready.” You sip at your coffee and head out from the kitchen, leaving Bucky perplexed as he hears you running and swearing from in the hallway towards the elevator.

So, your encounters with Bucky haven’t exactly been the best. Yet, there’s something about him that you’re drawn to but scared of. His cool exterior doesn’t intimidate you, you know his history, you know all of the Avengers’ history. However there is a part of you that feels like you know Bucky somehow on a deeper level than what you've read in his files.

Rushing through your suite, you gather the necessary files before heading out to the elevator. You knew you shouldn’t have left it to the last minute to get the meeting scheduled.

As the metal doors open, Bucky steps aside, his blue eyes focused on his feet. “Which floor?” He asks.

“Two, please.” You respond, and silence ensues over you both.

It was becoming harder and harder for Bucky to not see the Y/n he once knew in you, this version of her or a copy. You twitched your nose the same way when you laughed, your hair smells like vanilla and you add small quirks to the same words.

“Y/n, do you ever have the feeling that you’ve met someone, in a previous life?” Bucky asks out of the blue, taking you by surprise.

“I, er,” You stumble over your words as you reach level two. “I’ll get back to you on that one, Bucky.” You tell him before exiting the elevator and carry on rushing to the conference room for your meeting with Pepper.

“Thought as such.” Bucky sighs as the doors close, leaving him alone with his memories of you once more.

“What’re you doing up here? You’ll freeze!” You laugh giddily as you wrap your arms around yourself, seeing Bucky sat with a blanket draped over his shoulders despite the early spring chill.

“I’ve endured worse, doll.” It rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, his treasured nickname for his girl.

Yet, you smile at the nickname, swearing you’ve heard it before. You contemplate a response, but leave it and walk closer, sitting beside Bucky.

“So, what are you doing up here? Am I that bad?” You nudge him playfully and without a second thought, Bucky lifts the blanket up, allowing you to curl into the soft fabric for much-needed warmth.

“You never could be, Y/n, trust me.” Bucky sighs sadly as he looks up to the stars, aware of you studying him closely, your eyes burning into each of his features. “I’m sorry if I’ve acted a little off this past week, I, I’m still adjusting to well, everything.” Bucky tries to ease his growing nerves as you scoot closer, the fragrance of your perfume encroaching into his nostrils like old times.

“You’ve been just fine, Bucky.” You reassure him as a faint smile forms on his lips.

“I’d know if you’re lyin’ to me, doll.” Bucky turns to face you, kneeling down as you cross your arms playfully, refusing to speak up. “Well, I guess you leave me no choice.” He mutters, and before you can react his hands grab your hips and he starts tickling you senselessly.

“Calm down, soldier!” You laugh happily. “Will you stop?!” You breathe out as his hands rise further up from your waist, pausing as he holds your face, smiling smugly to you, knowing you were truly hooked.

“So, I was just fine then, doll?” Bucky raises a brow as you nod, his hands bringing you closer as he breathes out a sigh into your lips. “Well, I guess I’ve got a few things to work on.”

“That you do mister.” You mutter before kissing him, wrapping your arms around his neck as hollers from across the road sound, and the faint call of your name interrupts you once more.

“Y/n?” Bucky nudges you, and you look up at him with wide eyes. “Are you okay? You went all quiet on me for a minute.” He half laughs, seeing tears forming in your eyes as you shake your head.

“I, I’m not.” You admit, letting the tears fall. “I, you asked me earlier about feeling as if you’ve met someone in another life,” You trail off, seeing Bucky nod.

“Yeah,” Bucky mutters, feeling the remaining strings attached to his heart hoist it up, hoping they won’t fray at this final attempt. “it was dumb, I know.” He brushes it off.

“No, it’s not.” You tell him defiantly. “I, I keep having these memories of sorts, but I can’t make out any faces.” You rub your eyes. “Every day there’s this nagging sensation to remember something, to recognise someone I believe I knew, like there's this guy and I think he's someone I’m meant to know.” You explain, and Bucky can feel the restraints in his heart tightening, the cogs in your brain now turning.

“I know the feeling,” Bucky comments. “when HYDRA had me, they wiped my mind of everything, any memories of my life before and brainwashed me into their weapon. It’s kinda funny really, it was all still in there, and it slowly started to come back.”

“How did you know which memories were real?” Your voice softens as you home in on his blue eyes, watching as they twitch under your gaze. “Like, which weren’t misconstrued.”

Bucky shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, I just, I do.” He murmurs. “So, this guy, what’s he like?” Bucky changes the subject as a smile forms on his lips as you laugh lightly.

“I wish I knew,” A light shiver crosses your body, and Bucky pulls the blanket off of him, wrapping it around you. “he’s just, this amazing guy who, who is funny, and caring. I have these snippets of what I believe was our life together, but it doesn’t make any sense.” You ramble, trying your best to comprehend everything.

“Take your time.” Bucky reassures you.

“These ‘memories’ I’m having, they take place in the past- that much I know. But I know my life, I know the year I was born, I have memories of my childhood and I know my family.” You explain, feeling your eyes welling up with tears as your frustration and confusion increases. “How can I have memories of a life I’ve never lived?”

"Maybe you can." Whistling into the breeze, Bucky shuffles and turns to face you. “Try and focus on one detail, okay? Do you trust me?”

You search his eyes for any uncertainty, and you nod in response.

“Close your eyes.” Bucky whispers, and you oblige. “Think of him, think about any details that you have relived, any conversations or scenery you noticed.” Bucky suggests, trying his hardest to not reach out and take your hand in his.

Keeping your eyes closed, you try to focus on his face, hear his voice, but it’s all too much of a blur. “It’s no use.” You sigh, burying your face in your hands. “I just, I know if I ever saw him again or met him somehow, I’d know who he was.” You mumble into your palms, unaware of Bucky tearing his eyes from you, the ropes pulling his heart snapping for good, now beyond repair.

“You’ll find him, Y/n.” Bucky pats your back, hearing you sniffle.

“You think?” You ask, lifting your head back up as you half-smile to Bucky who nods.

“I’m sure of it.” He forces a smile, but you can tell it’s not reaching his eyes.

“Thanks, Bucky." Silence falls between you both, stifling the cool air. "I, I better go in before I catch a cold.” You rise to your feet, removing the blanket and hand it back to him. “Can’t have Mr Stark complaining about me coughing senselessly on a conference call.” A light laugh escapes your lips as you wave to Bucky before heading back inside.

As the door closes behind you, Bucky blankly stares out at the sky. “Oh, doll.” Bucky pleads to the stars. “Please remember.”

Now back on your floor, tears freely cascade down your cheeks as you sob into your hand, barely able to reach your door before you fall to the ground. “Come on,” You cry, feeling snippets of memories colliding together of the childhood you knew versus one you don’t recall, two boys by your side at all times.

Forcing yourself to your feet, you shut the door to your suite behind you, hearing laughter echo in your mind.

“Steve! Stop, I need to keep my dress clean!” You plead, looking down at the splashes of mud coating the hem of your dress.

“I warned you, punk.” Bucky sighs, hitting Steve over the back of the head with the newspaper. “You still look beautiful, Y/n.” Bucky winks to you, watching as you roll your eyes in response.

“Thanks, James.” You mutter, ignoring the burning of your cheeks as you reach your front steps. “I’ll see you boys later, seven still good?” You ask, looking between the pair as they nod. “Okay, well, don’t get in too much trouble without me.” You chuckle before turning on your heels and head up the front steps, unlocking your front door as the radio plays faintly.

“James?” You whisper to yourself, rushing over to the nearest mirror. “My name is Y/n Y/l/n. I am twenty-four years old. This is my home. My parents are Y/M/N and Y/D/N.” You recite, staring at yourself in the mirror. “This is who you are.”

Running your fingers through your hair, you step away from your mirror and fall into your bed.

“Ms Y/l/n?” FRIDAY calls out, and you quickly sit upright.

“Yes, FRIDAY?”

“Tony is calling you, would you like to answer?” The AI asks, and you groan into your pillow, it’s not like you couldn’t answer your employer.

“Sure, FRIDAY.” You reply, reaching over for your phone and answer the call from Tony. “Hey Mr Stark, how’s the mission going?” You feign positivity as you force a bright smile. Even if Tony cannot see you, the walls have eyes.

“Hey, Y/n, I told you before, call me Tony. We’re on our way back now, I just wanted to make sure the tin man hasn’t been causing you any trouble.” Tony asks, moving away from other voices in the background.

Your eyes rise to your closed door, picturing Bucky mere minutes ago by your side, trying to help you remember him, James Buchanan Barnes, your James.

“Jam-” You cut yourself off and move the phone away from your ear, allowing a moment to compose yourself for your boss. “Bucky’s been fine, I promise Mr, sorry, Tony.” You chuckle uneasily, but Tony doesn’t question it.

“Well good to hear, listen we’ll be back in an hour, and you can meet the rest of the team in the morning. Get some rest, Y/n.” Tony tells you and hangs up before you can respond, leaving you alone once more with the impending thoughts weighing heavy in your mind.

“This is who you are.” You repeat like a mantra as you lie back down in your bed, wishing tomorrow would never come.

P A R T T W O

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)

@biss-stuff @psychicforest @lourightm @mywinterwolf @justsomedreaming @stanlux17 @smokeandnailz @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx @courtneychicken @marvelsangels @supraveng @tommy-lee-81 @smilexcaptainx @fandom-princess-forevermore @sarge-barnes-sir @pleasantlysecretdream @decaffeinated--fangirl @howdyherron @kirby-boo @florencxs @eldahae @handmesomecoffee @hi-my-name-is-riley @dev1lbella @thanossexual @alissaginger @sambucky8 @notbrooklynsblog @nikkixostan@cosmiccaptian @adoreyou976 @sarcasticallywitty15 @multi-fandom-princess07 @16boyfriends-and-me @courtneychicken @mackevanstan80

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deluluass · 4 years ago

Text

Red, like blood. Blue, like love.

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; bullying; soulmates au

Prompt: 88 & 183

There’s someone for everyone, you’d learned growing up.

"Remember, blue means happy," your mother would say. "The happiest you'll ever be.”

She liked reminding you about this fact— for it is an indisputable truth, every so often when she could still carry you. You’d be hugged from the back, as she recounted stories of first meetings, serendipitous and life changing in their nature; belonging to those who’ve lived long before you, sometimes even those who’ve only lived in tales.

Mostly, your mother loved telling those involving the people she knew. And if you’ve behaved properly, she would tell you about hers.

Tracing your palm, starting from the forked lines to the dashed ones on your fingers, she’d say, “These would start to glow like stars.”

“That’s weird!” you’d burst out, shrieking a laughter as she tickled you.

“Listen carefully,” she chastised. “Blue is for your soulmate, okay?”

And you’d repeat: Blue is for my soulmate.

“Then, mama,” you tugged at her sleeves, “What if it’s really, really bright red! Like! Bloody glow sticks! Say, mama, you see, everyone at the park was talking about the man who died because he touched someone and his hand became bright re— ”

You never brought that up again. What your mother said about it had been enough to never make you forget.

“Tell me if you get red,” she said firmly, clutching your arms as if she feared someone would snatch you away from her. “Red is bad, my heart. Red means run.”

It hadn’t nearly been as gruesome as your mother made it out to be.

Case in point, when you turned twelve the couple three houses down your street found out, shortly after their honeymoon, that their palms gleamed a fierce red once they clasped each other’s hands in front of the neighborhood aunties.

Their marriage ended with a swift and ordinary divorce, a year or so later.

Red: Not just an ominous warning for homicide, then. That was a relief, you’d thought.

Contrary to how your mother framed it, you were thankful, actually. It helped some of your friends escape from potentially hellish relationships. How lucky is it that you lived in a reality where the universe seemed exceedingly benevolent. Though, you sometimes have to question if that generosity extended to everyone.

Fat lot of good it did for you.

Because, from where you’re standing, it doesn’t have to take some arbitrary and unsolvable scientific mystery to heed that Oikawa Tooru must be avoided like the plague.

Any person in your shoes would be conditioned to do exactly that.

You’d first met in Elementary. You thought he was the prettiest kid you’d ever seen, with chestnut curls and doe eyes and lashes that swept past his cheeks, and when you’d asked for a hand shake he’d called you “the ugliest girl I’ve ever seen” and “fart face.”

Recess and lunch were when he’s most fearsome. Spiky burdocks slapped on the collar of your dress; dead lizards in your food; the boy was determined. The worst part was that it always happened when no one was looking. And if someone were, it was his best friend. So when you finally told on him to your mom, both your teacher and the principal simply judged Oikawa as the victim of an attention deprived child.

“Please discipline your daughter,” they told her. “We are all aware of your situation at home, but do ensure that she’s not getting out of control.”

You couldn’t even muster up the strength to defend yourself. In that moment all you could do was swear that you’d never allow anyone to talk to your mother in that way again.

You moved out of that school.

You didn’t wait for your palms to flash a warning signal because, somehow, you knew that boys who discover early that they could get away with anything cannot get any better.

There’d been no way to be sure of that until Aoba Johsai— after a peaceful interim of no Oikawa; no red palm lines (and no blue ones, either).

The proof hit you in the face. Literally.

“Oi, Shittykawa!”

Heat permeated from your nostrils as you patted your cheek, detached and staring back at the large gymnasium.

“You hit someone!”

How unlucky did a person have to be to bleed right on the first day of classes?

You tried to lean forward. “It’s okay,” you slurred nasally, pinching your nose and averting your embarrassed gaze from the boy kneeling next to you.

“Trashykawa! You better hurry and apologize!”

“Don’t be mad, Iwa-chan,” that disgustingly saccharine voice came from behind you, making you flinch, as if the years you’d spent apart had done nothing to purge it out of your system.

In all honesty, you hadn’t really cared for whoever was responsible for the ball that careened all the way to where you were standing, so sure that it had to be an accident. No one in their right mind would want to injure someone they barely knew, especially if said someone is a couple of feet away from you.

Morally and athletically, it should’ve been improbable. But then you saw who did it and everything made perfect sense.

Iwa-chan. The boy beside you. Iwaizumi Hajime.

If he’s here, then—

“You,” he whispered.

“Eh?! Gosh, I’m so sorry!” Oikawa Tooru gasped. “You’re bleeding.”

Time is cruel. It wears down on you, tears you and molds you into something you can’t even recognize, if it decides to. (Fate, more so). You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or laugh, looking at him. If the universe were so benevolent, then perhaps Oikawa Tooru had received all of its favor.

He was beautiful. You’d known this before, but with all the baby fat replaced with sharp yet slender angles, figure lean and imposing even when he’d lowered himself to meet your eyes, Oikawa didn’t seem real.

“I did hit someone, didn’t I?” he pouted, wiping the dried blood atop your lip. “And such a pretty girl, too.”

That volleyball existed should’ve made life better for you. It didn’t. If anything, it seemed that out of the court, when he’s not taking names and being praised like a god, you were his little pastime. Something fun to take his mind off whatever it is he thinks about it.

The mocking comments, you could handle; every time you’d recite and he’ll interject with something playful and then the entire class would laugh (because he’s Oikawa) and your professor would reprimand him but you could always tell that they, too, are holding in a giggle.

Those were easy to bear, because although his insults hit way too close to home, it’s just— it’s just so petty.

Really, it’s the aftermath that does the damage.

“They’re like Christmas lights under your skin!”

This topic pops up every month or so. Most people your age can be lucky enough to meet their soulmate this early.

“And it’s the most awesome feeling in the world,” your classmate sighed. “When we touched hands? Man. We just- we glowed.”

Then, the others would poke fun, faking a gagged expression, but they’d always ask afterwards, “What happened next?” And everytime, you’d watch from the sidelines. Like an uninvited audience.

You tried being a part of it once, wanting to share about the time your close friend met her soulmate. But all you’d gotten were side eyes and titters, as if they were laughing about a joke only you didn’t know about.

“They’re so mean to you.”

You groaned.

Oikawa was seated behind you, resting his head against his elbow. Everyone was too busy talking about blue lights and destined souls to notice what’s happening at the back of the room.

He continued, “Not including you in conversations, treating you like an outsider.”

You didn’t bite, focusing on the opened book in front of you.

“Must be lonely, having no one.”

“Oikawa,” you muttered under your breath. “I don’t have the energy for this.”

The silence that came after that was unexpected. You were sure it would be short lived; he’s just gearing up for more. He usually went at it until you’d have no choice but to physically remove yourself from his presence. You’d thought once that that may be why he does this so much. Maybe he still thought you were the “ugliest girl” he’s ever met and he wants you out of his sight. Because Oikawa’s infantile like that.

But the silence stayed, accompanied by the background noise of eager conversations; lingering some more as white, fluffy clouds passed by the glass windows.

When he broke it, all Oikawa said was, “Soulmates, huh.”

You felt a finger touch your back, drawing the barest of lines over your uniform. He removed them just before you could stand up and leave.

You disliked those moments with him.

You disliked him especially when he played.

Oikawa’s a monster, be it in volleyball or with you. There are times, though, that you’d notice some things that you think you’re not meant to see. Like after a serve— its impact booming throughout the court, he’d have this puzzling expression on his face.

It looked like....anger.

He scored a point, right? Everyone’s cheering for him, aren’t they? Wait, didn’t they win?

You thought maybe it’s the adrenaline making him nastier than usual, but sometimes you’d pass by the gym when he happens to be alone. And that anger is still there, punctuated by the sound of the ball exploding against the floor. Jump. Hit. Spike. Jump. Hit. Spike. He’d do it, again and again and again.

As if he’s trying to grasp something even he cannot reach.

Those instances should’ve taught you that the best thing to do is look away.

That’s what you should’ve done. Look away.

They lost the Interhigh tournament.

You knew this not because you’d watched, but because for one day, Oikawa Tooru wasn’t your bully.

The derision was replaced by sulking. He didn’t speak for the entire period. The funniest thing about it was that everyone kept staring at you. Like somehow you’d been the cause of this, when all of them were lamenting the loss just as much as the team itself.

What was supposed to be a reason for celebration suddenly became a crime that you had to explain for.

“Great,” you grumbled to yourself. “One time I don’t have a target on my back, now I’m the bad guy.”

Trash bag in hand, the scraps inside rattled against each other as you stomped to the recycling bin, both sleeves of your P.E jacket folded up to the elbows. You affected a tone, choosing to mock the grating way some of classmates talked:

“Oh, hey, if it’s not too much,” you began. “Can you please be his punching bag again? If you will, can you relieve our superstar’s burdens? By, I don’t know, alluring him into walking all over you? Like the good old days! Please, oh please? We rely on you, oh Great Punching Bag! We Beseech thee, oh Esteemed Doormat! We compel— dude, what the fuck?!”

Crumpled papers and steel and tin cans rolled to the ground. You didn’t pick them up, like you should’ve; you left it there, trash bag lying open, and grabbed the ball that whisked mere inches from your face.

This time you’re not making the same mistake. The asshole is more than capable of suspending what little morals he has, just to hurt someone he barely knew. As well as athletically adept (an understatement, that) at hitting a walking target; or not hitting it, in this case.

You stormed the almost empty gym. Oikawa is a ray of sunshine, greeting you with that smile. It makes you want to punch him.

“What is wrong with you?” you spat.

He chuckled. “Whoops. Sorry!”

“I’m not having this-” you shoved the ball to his stomach. He didn’t even blink. “This isn’t gonna slide anymore, Oikawa.”

Wide grin still in place, he took it from your hands with his much larger ones and said, “Wow, you’re actually mad this time. ”

Then, he added, “I didn’t mean it! Honest!”

Must be nice, you thought with a scowl, to be him. Anyone can be sincere if they look anything like Oikawa.

“Sure. Fine. No, actually,” you glowered. “You know what?”

“Hm?” He tilted his head. Oikawa tilted his pretty little head.

You seethed. “I get it. You lost. That doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me. I mean, what did I ever do to you, Oikawa? I have-” you exhaled, surprised by the break in your voice.

“I haven’t done anything to you. We stopped being kids a long time ago. That shit you pull should’ve ended by now. We’ve grown.” You jabbed his chest. “But I see that maybe not all of us have.”

His pleased expression hadn’t dropped. “Ouch,” Oikawa grimaced, glancing amusedly at the place you’d touched. “How mean.”

This isn’t going anywhere.

You don’t know why it took you this long to realize this, as you shifted your gaze away from him, noticing the gashes on the floor that tear the surface like scars that never healed. That must’ve been because of him, with the amount of practice he does.

“It won’t be enough, won’t it, Oikawa?” you whispered. “Not for you.”

The smile that’s been there since you arrived tensed, straining at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” he beamed.

He was bathing in his own sweat, seeping through his shirt and matting his hair to his face, and he looks— Oikawa looked tired. His eyes were sunken in, too. Did he even sleep?

You’re so used to seeing him not a hair out of place, with a sweet scent that you amusedly thought lures his gaggle of admirers into following him everywhere. It takes you aback, honestly. Particularly the wobble in his step as he bent and squeezed his knee with shaky fingers.

You don’t think he’s aware he’s doing it in front of you.

Then, just like that, everything seemed to have added up.

“You’ll never be happy,” you said.

You should’ve stopped there. You should’ve left. Instead, you looked him in those brown eyes, the warm hue becoming a lot colder as he moved closer.

Oikawa sneered. “And what do you know, huh?”

(Go. Leave.)

“Nothing,” you told him. “I don’t- I don’t know. Because, I don’t get it.”

(Shut up. Shut up.)

“Why you try any harder, I don’t know. Win or lose, it’s all the same. You’re still the same. You’re still awful and annoying and- and still you.” You laughed, unsure why you’re running your mouth like this.

“Win or lose. Oikawa is still Oikawa,” you breathed in. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

His teammates must’ve gone somewhere. For lunch, maybe, you thought as you eyed the abandoned bottles and used towels scattered around the court. “Besides,” you huffed, not without a twinge of envy. “They’ll all still love you, either way.”

Everything went still for a while, and you’d just realized what you’d just said.

“What about you?”

You looked back at him.

“What?”

He tipped his chin. You stepped backwards.

He brushed your wrist.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he only smiled and wrapped his entire hand around it.

Oikawa had been your first bully. Before you could even comprehend what that meant, Oikawa had been the source of your mother’s worries whenever she parted with you at the school gates. It is funny, thinking about it, for letting this boy affect you despite making an effort to stay away the first time.

But it is only now— now that he has a firm hold on you, gentle yet smothering— that you truly feared Oikawa Tooru.

It rattled your breath, squeezing your heart and refusing air to pass through your lungs, as you felt a shock zap through you. And apparently through him as well.

You broke away from each out with a cry.

Your hand was burning. That’s the only explanation for it. Your hand was burning and any moment now smoke will diffuse from the pores.

You waited. Any moment now. But the more you stared at it the more tiny spots of flames sparked under your skin, bursting along the palm lines— first, the forked ones; then, the dashed lines— glaring back at you, glowing brighter, blotting and spreading until they mapped your palms then your entire hands like constellations.

“Red is bad, my heart,” your mother said. “Red means run.”

“I knew it,” you scoffed, shaking your head.

Well, it’s not as if this is news to you.

“What about that, Oikawa?” You put both your radiating hands in the air. “The universe is telling us, you and I? We just don’t—”

Why are you crying?

Why is Oikawa crying?

“I knew it,” he croaked.

Your mother made the red light sound so horrifying for a reason.

There has to be a reason, too, why the universe is warning you so late into your life. You’d actually ran before. And when you thought it a waste of money, you chose to stay and not fight back; thinking that his punches have become less severe, degraded into verbal taunts that induce social exclusion at most; that, certainly, red doesn’t forbode something as bad as murder, right?

Well, what now? You were wrong, after all. This time you have a feeling that you actually need to hide.

Because Oikawa’s looking at you like you’re the last two people left in this Earth.

Just you and him. Without any need for anybody else.

You didn’t breathe, attempting to bolt despite the overwhelming need to throw up right where you're standing. He stepped closer, faster than you’d liked, and touched your face, caressing your cheek up to your aching temple.

“You should really stop trying to run away,” he said, voice low as if he’s sharing a secret. “I’ll always find you, you know?”

You didn’t have to look to know. Even if you closed your eyes, as well, you know it’s still going to be there; glowing in the darkness behind your eyelids.

“Me and you—” Oikawa sighed.

Listen carefully, your mother said.

“ —we have a connection that no one else will ever understand,” he said.

The light emitting from his hand was so harsh it hurt you, pricking your sight until it drew fat tears, reflecting against your damp face and tinting the fallen streaks with bright—

Blue means happy, she told you. The happiest you’ll ever be.

And you’d repeat: Blue. Blue is for—

“My soulmate," Oikawa said, before locking you in a deep, searing kiss.

The lights didn't die even as he dragged you into the storage room.

"Hey, where'd senpai go?"

The rest of the volleyball team came in droves, occupying the hollow court with their squeaking shoes and questions about Oikawa's whereabouts.

"Must've gone somewhere," you heard a deep voice say.

You could answer that question. All you had to do was scream. They weren't so far from the room that they wouldn't pick it up over the noise of their volleyball practice. Really, if you needed to, you could even outshout their guttural yells of "Nice kill!"

Though, you'd have to remove the underwear lodged in your mouth first.

Yours, in fact; soaked now by your own saliva, drool dripping to your chin as your wrists chafed against the rope that's keeping them tied at your back.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" You felt every sickening movement of Oikawa's lips against your throat. "Feels good when you- ah, fuck- when you give in."

With the cloth muting your shrill bawling, you tried your best to recall how you ended up here: seated on his lap as he sluggishly humped himself against you, his still glowing hands cupping your ass.

The only thing left on your body was your bra, and even that he's already lowered to let your tits spill over the top. Your pants and t-shirt and jacket are lying around somewhere. You couldn't determine where in particular; the only sources of light were behind you.

He was leaving imprints of blue all over your skin; around your waist as he slithered his hands to reach your breasts, scantily brushing over the hardened nipples and making you keel over.

"So sensitive," he tutted, smooching your neck so gently that even the underwear couldn't muffle your loud yelp when he suddenly bit into the flesh. Hard.

You wanted to claw his eyes out and call for help and you wanted badly to scream don't do that Oikawa someone please save me he's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me-

But the gag remained intact and the boys outside continued their game, ignorant that their precious captain is taking everything away from you.

Sharp canines bruised your skin, provoking a fresh batch of tears as he sucked and licked every after cruel bite.

Then, when you thought the worst had passed, he removed his mouth from your neck to spit onto your bare cunt, allowing it to slide from the hair on your mound to the nub sticking out in the middle.

(It is not enough that he is killing you. Oikawa must defile you, too.)

His fingers gripped the insides of your thighs open when you tried to shut them together. "Don't be a brat," he clicked his tongue.

"Be a nice little kitten for me," Oikawa drawled, smearing the slick that's soaking your folds against the spittle coating your clit.

You didn't notice when he'd taken his cock out, you only realize that he's about to enter you when he teased your entrance with it, pushing the tip to nudge the drenched hole, only to pull it back again.

And you didn't dare look. The feel of it almost stretching you out with just the head is already driving you to insipid begging.

"What'd you say, kitten?" he pouted.

Oikawa you've already taken too much is it never going to be enough Oikawa let me go.

"I can't understand you," he chuckled. "Here—"

He pulled the underwear out of your mouth as he thrust all the way inside, your back arching, driving him deeper, as his cock throbbed against your pussy walls.

"Now, what were you saying?"

You swallowed your cries and heaved and swore you were gonna tear his heart out after this.

"Say," he whispered, sniffing your wet panties without breaking his gaze. "If everyone saw us right now, how'd you think they'd react?"

It was so reverent, the way he did it, blue light revealing that he closed his eyes as he took a whiff, as if he hung onto your scent like a lifeline.

But you thought that'd been a calculated move, because as you dumbly stared at him, he immediately gyrated his hips under you, rocking back and forth ever so slowly, and you remembered that you had to keep quiet.

His cock was so big inside you, making you bite your lip as it filled you up, the curved tip hitting a spot that has you squirming in his embrace.

"At this point they'll know how much of a whore you are," he said, tangling his muscled arms around yours and anchoring you to his body. "Made just for me."

"Oika-Oikawa…"

You don't know this person.

"Help..me.."

You don't know who's speaking out and whimpering for Oikawa, on her knees and bouncing up and down on his lap with weak, quivering thighs.

It couldn't be you.

"Help you?" You felt him nuzzle your neck. "I thought you wanted me to stay away, though?"

Someone mewled out a pathetic, "N-no."

"No? Then what d'you want, kitten?"

(Oh. Oh, he feels so fucking good.)

Your belly has never felt this hot before and it's driving you crazy that you're chasing for something you cannot see and it feels so near but there's something, something that's keeping you from it that all you can do is grind your sopping cunt closer to him.

"Wanna- I wanna cum."

Oikawa kissed you on the forehead, and then he said, "Go ahead, then."

He released your arms.

Then, he's scooping cum off your pussy, making sure to drag his fingers under the lips, before circling your large, swelling clit. Then, he's sucking your tits and swirling his tongue around a nipple and you're so so close.

"That's it," Oikawa sighed. "Ride my cock, baby."

His rough palm slapped both your ass cheeks and the cry that erupted from you only made him laugh.

"Make yourself cum on my cock," he grunted, licking his smiling lips as he leaned back against the wall, hand idly rubbing your dripping clit. "You're making a mess, darling. Leaking like that."

You're quivering all over; your cunt is spasming and your legs are complaining beneath you, but you don't stop. You lift your hips and then sink your pussy down, down until you feel his balls touching your sore ass, the sloshing sound growing louder as you move faster.

You don't think about what this'll all mean later, what you're doing giving in to him, when you scream out his name. But as soon as you did, Oikawa's growl had been your only warning.

He grabbed the back of your head and kissed you, plunging his tongue into your throat, his strong arms pressing you so close to him you can no longer tell his skin from yours, his battering heartbeat from yours.

You didn't move—weren't allowed to, when he hammered his cock into you, pounding your cunt and fucking you raw until you're breathless and nothing but a shuddering wreck, splitting at the seams in his hands as you feel thick spurts of hot cum slide out of you.

"My pretty girl," came his hoarse whisper. "My pretty, pretty girl."

The lights have dimmed, when he cradled your shaking form and moved out of you, faint traces left on just the palm lines and fingertips.

They were flooded by the sudden brightness that enveloped the storage room.

"Holy shit."

You pressed your eyes close, your entire body prickling at Oikawa’s touch.

It shouldn't be surprising, at this point, that Oikawa, as quick as he'd stripped you off of everything, has already covered you back in your jacket. The smell of it striking you ruthlessly, that old cologne that you always use to school reminding you of who you were, before all this.

Had it only been a few hours? It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Ah," Oikawa murmured. "They caught us."

"Oikawa,” someone roared. Oikawa held you, hiding your face against his chest. “Why you son of a-"

"C-coach..! Stop- Oi, someone help me hold him- no, coach! "

You heard him chuckle. “Sorry about this, everyone.” He held up his hand and you had to keep yourself from sobbing. “But, look.”

There were several gasps.

(Everybody knows now.)

“You..and her?”

The boy who said that sounded so astonished, clearly overjoyed for some reason, that it revolted you.

“Mhm,” he nodded, a smile in his voice. “Now, can you guys please give us some privacy?”

Feet shuffled out of the room, along with stuttered apologies. They all left.

Except for one.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa pouted.

“What did you do, Oikawa?”

A beat. Then, he repeated, “Iwa-chan.”

Please.

Iwaizumi didn’t say anything.

Please help me.

“Sure,” he grunted.

He was gone, too, after that.

You were back in the darkness, with nothing but the faltering red and blue on your hands and his, while he untied your wrists and kneaded the abrasion away, cooing sweet nothings to your ear.

“I hate you,” you rasped.

“Don’t say that.”

“I fucking hate you-”

“Please stop yelling-”

“I won’t ever forgive you, Oikawa!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he cried, shaking his head as he brushed your tear-stained cheeks with both thumbs. You clutched them, wanting him off you, but he only latched himself firmly into you. “We’re meant to be.”

“You’re the only one for me.”

Oikawa brought your numb hand to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm, the red light basking him in its soft glow.

“And I’m the only one for you,” he said, intertwining your fingers together.

The lights flickered in and out, at first, as you stared vacantly into it, the red and blue swallowing each other. Until they finally disappeared, leaving just you and him, curled against each other in the shadows.

#tw noncon #tw non con haikyuu #yandere oikawa #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa x female reader #dark content haikyuu #prompt

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chaos-writes-fanfiction · 3 years ago

Text

You’re in love with him

A/n I gave his mom the name Mei.

Warnings: none just some fluff, friends to lovers

Pairings: Aone × fem!reader

Being best friends with Aone came easily having your mother’s being best friends and living down the street from one another meant spending lots of time with him becoming close friends your selves. Always going to school together and waiting for him during practice so you can go home together. Having weekly sleepovers alternating who’s house unless he was away for a game, tournament or training camp.

And today you made your way to the gym to watch practice while doing homework, before staying at his house for the weekend. When you walk in the guys were still stretching.

“Hey guys” you said walking in

They greeted you with several ‘hey’ or 'hi’ from them as they started to warm up. Taking your normal seat and starting on your homework. When suddenly a volleyball comes flying at you unexpectedly and smashing into the side of your face. The whole team freezes except Aone who is running up to you.

“Way to go” Futakuchi said sarcastically to Koganegawa “dont be surprised when Aone kills you for hitting her”

“Let me see” Aone said softly moving your hand away from your cheek

Your cheek was very red and bruising already as tears fell down your cheeks. He ghosted his thumb over your cheek to wipe your tears

“Ow” you whimpered

“Here” Sakunami said handing Aone a ice pack that he wrapped a towel in so the ice wasn’t directly on your skin

He took it and gently placed it on your cheek holding your face so gently in his hand. You gently place your hand over his on your cheek.

“Thanks bear” you whisper his childhood nickname

He smiled softly at that. Then his smile dropped as he removed his hand from your cheek your hand still holding the ice pack as he turned and glared at Koganegawa.

“I promise it was an accident I didnt mean to” Koganegawa said quickly

“Then why haven’t you apologized to her?” Sakunami asked

Koganegawa ran over to you hanging his head

“I’m so sorry Senpai” he said “I didnt mean to”

“Please be more careful Koganegawa” you said

He nodded and they went back to practice you packed up your things as you waited for them to clean up to walk home with Aone. Your cheek still hurt and it had potential to give you a black eye from where it hit your cheek.

“Let’s go” Aone said when they were finished

“Can I get a piggyback ride to the train station?” You asked

He nodded and crouched down. You climb on and he holds your legs as you wrap your arms around his neck as he starts walking to the train station, resting your non bruised cheek against his his back. He set you down while waiting for the train. When you finally arrive to his house you walk in taking off your shoes in the now permanent space for you since you were over so often.

“Are you kids home?” His mom calls from the kitchen

“Yes we are Mei” you said

“Dinner is just about ready if you want to wash up” she said

Aone walks up to the bathroom to shower quickly before dinner. As you walk into the kitchen washing your hands to help finish making dinner.

“How are you dear?” Mei asked her back to you

“I’m good” you said as you move next to her cutting up some green onion

“What happened to your face?” She asked alarmed seeing the bruise

“I was watching practice and I got hit with a stray spike” you said

“Oh dear” she said “have you iced it?”

“Yes, bear made me right after it happened” you said

She smiled at the use of Aones nickname “of course he did” she said “but it looks like it still going to be around for a little while.”

“Yeah unfortunately” she said “the first year that accidentally hit me felt so bad I thought he was going to start crying”

She giggled softly and you both finished up making dinner which was shoyu ramen (soy sauce based)

“Will you go get him for dinner?” Mei asked

You nod and go upstairs to his room the shower wasn’t going anymore. So you walk to his door and knock. He opens the door letting you in. Hes drying his hair from his shower wearing black sweats and a white tshirt.

“Dinner is ready” you said smiling up at him.

“What are we having?” He asked putting the towel in his basket

“Ramen” you said

“Good its going to be cold tonight” he said.

He lightly touches your cheek again.

“I’m okay” you said

“I know I worry still” he said

“You always do” you said leaning into his touch and turn to kiss the palm of his hand “let’s go eat”

You take his hand in yours not noticing the wash of pink on his cheeks as you lead him down to the table and taking your normal seat beside him. After dinner and helping him clean up, his mom left going to the store to get some groceries and some snacks for the both of you for the weekend.

You go upstairs with him, he started on his homework and you lounge on his bed keeping him company when your phone started ringing.

“I’ll be right back” you tell him as you leave his room

You walk to the living room. And sit down and answer your girl bestfriends call

“Hey, Yachi” you said

“Hey honey” she said

“What’s up?” You asked

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to have a sleep over this weekend” she said “me, kiyoko and Saeko are here”

“Oh I can’t, I’m already staying at Aone’s this weekend” you said

“Have you confessed to him yet?” Saeko asked

“What do you mean? Hes my best friend we’ve been friends our whole lives my mom and his mom are childhood bestfriends too” you said

“You spend all your time with him unless hes away for volleyball” she said

“Well yeah…” you said

“Did something happen?” Kiyoko asked

“I got hit with a stray spike in the face” you said

“And how did he react?” Yachi asked

“He ran over right away and checked on me and gave me an ice pack after wiping my tears away” you said

“And after practice?” Saeko asked

“He gave me a piggyback ride to the train station and we took the train home, I helped his mom finish making dinner and we ate, I was keeping him company in his room while he did homework until you called” you said

“I hate to be the one to say it but you and him act more like boyfriend and girlfriend not friends” kiyoko said

You sat in silence for a little while thinking about everything.

“Hey are you still there?” Saeko asked

“Oh god” you said

“You’re in love with him” kiyoko said you could hear the smile in her voice

“Yeah…” you trailed off

“Then go tell him” Saeko said

“Is everything alright dear?” Mei asked

You hang up the phone and look up at her as she stood in front of you

“I just realized something” you whispered looking down

“What?” She asked concerned

“I’m in love with him” you whispered afraid to say it too loudly

“Who?” She asked tilting your chin up “Takanobu?”

“Yes” you whispered nodding

She smiled and kissed your forehead “I’m happy you finally figured it out” she said

“What?” You asked confused

“Your mom and I were wondering when you’d finally figure it out” she said

“Really?” You asked “you both knew?”

“Oh my dear, I’m pretty sure the only ones who didnt know were you and him” she said smiling “now, why dont you go tell him”

You nod a little hesitantly but go back upstairs after texting yachi why you hung up so suddenly. When you walk back in hes closing his text books

“Finished already?” You asked

“Yes” he said standing up and walking over to sit on his bed

You go and sit beside him.

“Can I tell you something?” You asked

“Of course” he said

You take a deep breath and let it out slowly resting your head on his shoulder “I love you, more than just friends” you said

He stiffened for a moment “you do?” He asked turning to look at you

You look back at him and nod

“I-I” he started but took a breath “I love you too, more than just a friend”

“You do?” You asked

“Yes, I have for a while” he said and he reaches into his bedside table and pulled out a letter and handed it to you

“What’s this?” You asked

“Read it” he said

You open the letter and read it;

'My dear,

We’ve been friends for as long as I remember and I’ve never been good with words; but I want you to know I cherish our friendship, but lately I find myself wanting more, I want to hold your hand when we are walking together, not just around town but at school too, I want to hold you in my arms when we have our weekly sleep overs, to wear my volleyball jacket when you come to my games. I guess I’m saying that I want you to be my girlfriend. I’ve loved you for a while now and it’s taken me this long to tell you how I feel.

-Love your Bear’

“I’ll gladly be your girlfriend” you said as tears fell down your cheeks

He wiped away your tears and kissed your forehead. You look up at him and lean towards him and gently kiss his lips, he kissed you back gently before pulling away smiling. You smile back and cuddle up to him as he gently plays with your fingers and his hand in yours. The both of you end up falling asleep cuddling.

A few weeks later, you’re getting ready, Saeko is picking you up to take you with her to a training camp to surprise Aone. You hear her honking and you run out and climb in handing Hinata your bag.

“Okay go” you said

“Are you excited?” Saeko asked

“Of course I am” you said “I’m always excited to see my boyfriend”

“Dont you see him every day?” Hinata asked

“Yep but he doesn’t know that I’m coming” you said smiling

About 45 minutes later and nearly dying from Saekos insane driving three times you finally arrive at the training camp, the first ones out are Hinata and Kageyama. Then you and Saeko got out walking towards the gym where the teams were taking a short break between games. The next team’s going up were Date Tech and Karasuno. Kiyoko and Yachi see you first.

“You came!” Yachi said smiling as she runs over and hugs you

“Saeko picked me up” you said and hug her back

“Good, we needed a few other girls” Kiyoko said smiling taking her hug

“Please, shes ditching us for her boyfriend” Saeko said rolling her eyes playfully

“Boyfriend?” Nishinoya asked “this beautiful goddess has a boyfriend?”

“Yep” you said smiling

“Who?” He asked

“Watch” Yachi said

Just then Date Tech walked over and you smile as you see your boyfriends eyes widen seeing you here. You run up to him jumping into his waiting arms wrapping your arms around his neck as he held your thighs, giving him a kiss on the cheek

“Hey” he said softly

“Hey baby” you said smiling hugging him tightly

He was holding you close not paying any attention to the stares from the other teams. As they watched the iron wall be soft for his girlfriend. He sets you back down on your feet, but holds your hand.

“Come meet my friends” you said he nods and follows you over, “this is, Kiyoko, Yachi and Saeko, kiyoko and yachi are Karasunos managers and Saeko is Tanakas older sister”

“Hi” he said “I’m Aone”

“Oh we know a lot about you” Saeko said smirking at you “this one talks about you all the time”

“Saeko I do not” you said blushing deep red

“Except you do” Kiyoko said

You whine a little bit embarrassed and hide your face in Aones chest. He starts stroking your hair.

“Its fine dear, I dont mind you talking about me” he said.

“Aone were about to start” Futakuchi said calling him over

“Go, good luck” you said

He lets you go and kisses your lips quickly before running back over to his team.

“Its definitely safe to say that you’re in love with him” Kiyoko said

“Yes I am” you said smiling watching your boyfriend getting ready to play

“So should we expect wedding invitations after you graduate?” Saeko asked in a teasing tone

“Maybe” you said blushing.

#aone x reader #aone takanobu #aone fluff #aone #takanobu aone x reader #haikyuu takanobu #childhood friend #childhood friends to lovers #getting together #love notes #love confessions #fluff

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 4 years ago

Note

omg you should write about stevie crying and being upset when she sees her daddy without all his tattoos ! she would think he’d look soo weird 😩

i LOVE this concept omg

you look naked

warnings: none

word count: 2.3k

"I'm gonna be home late again today," Harry sighed as he splashed some milk into his coffee. There had been an abundance of days like this since he started working on Don't Worry Darling. Most days, he left the house before 8 AM and didn't get home until after 9 that night. "I'm so sorry it's been like this so much lately. I know it hasn't been easy here, but it should only be a few more-"

"It's ok," you reassured him, stepping closer to lean against him. "I get it. I'm not upset with you or anything, I just wish I got to see more of you."

"I know," he sighed again. "I hate not being able to see you and Stevie. At this rate, she's going to forget about me."

"She's not going to forget about you," you smiled. "She loves you way too much for that."

"Yeah, but I see her, what? Three hours every week?"

"Well, now you're just being dramatic. You might not see her on the weekdays, but you're home all day on the weekends. And, like you said, it's only a few more weeks, maybe a month? Right?"

"Right," he said, tilting his head to rest it on top of yours. "And once it's over, I have nothing planned for the next 6 months, at least. I'm just going to stay home and spend time with my girls."

"I'm already excited," you grinned. "I'm going to paint your nails every single day."

One thing you really didn't like about him being an actor was how little freedom he had with his personal style. There was no point doing things like nail polish, because that would just be another thing he had to sit through the removal of before they shot every day.

"Can't wait," he smiled, leaning down to peck your lips. "And I'm going to spend some quality bonding time with Stevie. I can't believe she's almost a year old," he mused with wonder in his voice. "It goes by way too fast."

"It does," you agreed, leaning down to take a sip of his coffee. You tipped the cup to your lips, only moving back when he frowned playfully.

"That's enough, I need my sustenance," he pouted.

"Sorry," you grinned. "How about this instead?"

You leaned up on your tiptoes, bracing your hands against his shoulders. You hovered your lips above his, keeping them a hair's width apart before you whispered quietly.

"How's this for sustenance?"

You pressed your lips to his in a tender movement, leaning into him more as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He sighed against you, blindly reaching back to set his coffee cup down before his hands returned to you, pressing against your cheeks to hold you closer to him.

After a few long moments, he pulled away. You chased his lips, not missing his small grin as he leaned back in for a few quick pecks. He didn't let go of your face, instead leaning his forehead against yours and breathing quietly in time with you.

"Better than coffee," he smiled, his lips just barely brushing against yours as he spoke.

"Yeah?" you grinned back, your arms still slung over his neck.

"Mhm," he sighed one last time before pulling away and glancing at the clock. "But I really have to get going."

"Ok," you offered a small smile, trying to remind him that you weren't upset with this. You knew when he took this role that things would be a little hectic; and you had both agreed it would be ok. You thought he was taking this harder than you were, honestly. For the most part, you and Stevie had settled into a rhythm and you weren't too overwhelmed. You could tell Harry still felt bad for leaving you alone with her every day, but you did everything you could to reassure him that it was really just fine.

"I'll text you whenever I can," he promised, drinking the last few sips of his coffee as he stepped towards the door. You nodded, turning to wipe off the countertop before you would settle into the couch for a little alone time. You normally had about half an hour between Harry leaving and Stevie waking up. A few precious moments where your time was completely your own.

Not this morning, though. Before he even got the door open, your last bits of conversation were cut off by a loud wail coming through the baby monitor.

"Well, sounds like she's up," You offered a small smile to Harry, throwing the rag back into the sink. "Have a good day, baby," you stepped out of the kitchen, making your way towards the cries that were increasing in volume.

"I'm coming, Stevie," you said.

"Y/N!" Harry called from the kitchen.

"What?"

He didn't answer, but soon you heard his heavy footsteps coming down the hall.

"I wanted to see her before I go," he smiled, looking almost shy. "I don't usually get to, but since she's awake..."

"Yeah, of course," you smiled back, taking his hand and leading him to the nursery.

"Stevie, look who's here," you said softly, flicking on the light in the baby's room. "Daddy's here, he wants to say good morning."

Stevie's crying had stopped, replaced by a happy smile when she saw her mom and dad.

“Hi!” she said, giggling excitedly. She knew three words: mama, dada, and hi. She used these words very frequently, especially hi. It was her favorite thing to say.

Harry reached down to her, pulling her up and lifting her up above his head. She laughed again, kicking her legs as he looked up at her.

"Good morning, princess!" He seemed just as excited as her, if not more. Your heart felt like it was going to burst from how sweet this moment was. "I missed you while you were sleeping," he brought her back down, nuzzling his nose into her cheek. She giggled and squirmed away, hiding her face against him. "What's that? You missed me too? Yeah, I figured," he grinned, turning to you. "Hear that, baby? She missed me while she was sleeping."

"I'm sure," you smiled, leaning against the dresser as you watched the sweet moment unfold. Harry continued talking to her like she understood everything, and in turn he acted like he could understand her babbling in response.

"Really? I can't believe you went to the zoo in your dream! We'll have to do that sometime soon, hm?" he bounced her a bit, completely focused on her little face.

After a few minutes, he turned back to you.

"I don't want to go to today," he said, as if he was already contemplating calling in sick. 'Do you think they would be that mad if I didn't go today?"

"Yes, Harry," you said, stepping closer to reach for Stevie. "You have to go. But it's ok, because it'll go by fast, and then you can come home and see us again."

"But she'll be sleeping," he nearly whined.

"You can come in and say goodnight. She falls back asleep pretty easy these days, so I don't mind if you wake her up for a few minutes."

"Really?" he asked excitedly.

"Yes," you laughed. "But in order to come home to us, you have to go somewhere first."

"Right!" he was already halfway out the door.

"Love you, baby. Love you, Stevie," he blew two kisses at you before he stepped into the hallway.

"Love you too, baby," you held up Stevie's small hand to catch the kisses he left.

"Alright, miss Stevie," you bounced the baby on your hip. "What should we do today?"

-----

"Why are you so fussy today, hm?" You questioned the baby, rocking her gently to try and calm her down. "I thought you'd be happy since you got to see daddy this morning, but apparently not."

It was almost like getting to see him for a few minutes upset her more than if she hadn't been able to at all. Like she missed him more since she got to see him, only to have him leave.

"He'll be home soon," you said gently, bouncing her small body. "Then we can all cuddle together. How's that sound?"

She babbled through her tears in response.

"Not quite sure what that means, but I'll take it as excitement."

Before you could move to find something else to distract her, your phone rang. You reached to grab it, shushing Stevie as she cried more.

"Hi baby!" you smiled, holding the phone to your ear.

"Hi," he answered, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. "Why's she crying?"

"I think she misses you," you sighed, rocking the chair more. "Here, talk to her, see if she calms down." You put the phone on speaker, holding it away from you so Stevie would be able to hear him.

"Hi lovie!" Harry's excited voice came through the speaker. Stevie's fussing quieted immediately and she started at the phone. "Are you being fussy today?"

Stevie babbled in response.

"That means yes," you chimed in, laughing lightly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'll be home soon, though, and then we can snuggle together."

"I already told her that," you smiled at Stevie, who was still completely fascinated by Harry's voice. "Shockingly, the 9 month old isn't very patient."

"Well, why don't you come see me right now?"

"What?"

"Yeah, we're having some sound issues so we're all just sitting around right now. I don't think anyone would mind if you came to visit for an hour or so?" He paused for a moment and you heard muffled voices in the background. "Everyone here's fine with it, and they'd love to see both of you."

You weren't so sure about this offer. Stevie was notoriously difficult to dress and get ready quickly, and she was definitely not a fan of car rides. But it was only ten minutes away, and she could probably just stay in the onesie she was already wearing, and Harry sounded like he really wanted to see you...

"Ok, we'll be there in half an hour," you decided, standing up.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna go so I can get dressed. Do I need to bring anything?"

"Nope, just you and my beautiful baby," he said. You could tell he was practically bursting with excitement.

"Ok, she's not happy that I've gotten up, so I'm gonna go. Hopefully I can calm her down before we get there. I don't think anyone would appreciate me bringing a screaming child onto the premises."

"Sounds good," he laughed. "See you soon. Love you. Love you, Stevie!"

"Bye, love you," you smiled back before ending the call. "Come on Stevie, we're going on an adventure."

-----

"Guess who's here?" You approached Harry's chair from behind, carrying Stevie in one arm and the diaper bag in the other.

Harry was sitting in one of those fancy director's chairs, with his name printed across the back. He spun around at the sound of your voice, his entire face lighting up when he saw you and Stevie. He stood up, moving around the chair to step closer to you.

He was only wearing a pair of black sweatpants, and it was one of the weirdest sights you had ever seen. Not because of the lack of a shirt, but because the lack of tattoos. They had been completely covered. Completely. He looked...

"Oh my god, you look naked," you said in an astounded tone, stepping back to stare at his torso.

He let out a loud laugh, dropping his head.

"That's what I thought the first time I looked in a mirror," he grinned. "I haven't been without any tattoos since I was 17."

"Weird," you repeated, unable to drag your eyes away from his clean skin.

"Thanks," he smiled.

You blushed a bit, finally pulling your eyes away to look up at him.

"Anyways, it's nice to see you. I don't like waiting until the end of the day."

"Me neither," he said, stepping closer. "And how's my baby girl?" he reached out for Stevie, who had been staring at him just as intensely as you had.

Before you could hand her off to him, her face screwed up in confusion and she began to cry again.

"No, bug, don't cry!" you said, bouncing her again. "We came to see daddy! Come on, why are you fussing again?" She kept staring at Harry, not relenting her loud cries.

You held her out to Harry, hoping that maybe he would be able to calm her down, but she only cried harder when you did. She turned away from him, hiding her face in your shoulder.

"Harry, your naked skin is scaring her!" you scolded playfully.

He laughed in surprise, looking down at his arm. "I think you're right. She's only ever seen my arms with all the ink, so she probably think's it's pretty weird. I'll... I'll go find a jacket or something."

He turned away, leaving you to deal with Stevie who was still crying quietly. After she calmed down a bit, you settled into Harry's chair so you could look around with her.

Soon, you were approached by a group of Harry's coworkers, who were all very excited to see Stevie.

You answered a whole slew of questions, smiling and offering statements like "she's 9 months" and "yes, she is growing very fast!" and "yes, she did get Harry's dimples". Stevie was loving the attention. She was smiling and babbling and saying "hi" to everyone who looked at her.

Harry came back wearing a black hoodie. He approached cautiously, not sure if Stevie would still be upset. To both of your delight, she seemed to think everything was back to normal. She reached her small arms out to him, and his face lit up as he took her from you.

"Hi," Stevie said, smiling brightly.

"Hi bug," he grinned back, kissing her cheek. "I missed you and mommy. Did you miss me?"

She babbled in response.

"That means yes," you offered, and he grinned at you.

#Harry Styles #harry fanfiction #dad!harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x you fanfiction #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfiction #stevie #stevie fics

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

The Pact - Date #4

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 5.6k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: none, just some of the fluffiest fluff that ever did fluff

a/n: *heavy breathing into a paper bag* EVERYTHING IS FINE, JUST PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS M’KAY

Date #4

series masterlist ∆∆∆ join the taglist

You’ve made it to Friday night without hearing a single thing about your upcoming date. Snuggled up on your couch, watching a rerun of NCIS and wishing that you could invite Hobi over to watch it with you, you hardly notice the sound of your phone pinging. It isn’t until your eyes are flying open at the sudden recollection of falling asleep on this very couch while Namjoon snacked on his McDonalds that you notice your phone pinging for the second time.

“Finally,” you sigh, scrambling to grab it from off the coffee table. As expected, it’s a text from Jungkook. However, the more you reread it, the more confused you grow.

“Check the mailbox?” You wonder aloud, shuffling off the couch and slipping your shoes on. Heading outside to investigate, you notice a suspicious car slowly driving by.

You know that car. And you’re pretty sure you recognize the people inside of it who are desperately trying to hide. You wave at them, laughing when Jungkook raises his hand to wave back only to have it slapped away by Jin, who laughs at the boy who obviously forgot that they were supposed to be hiding.

Stepping up to your mailbox, you eye the hastily sealed envelope before taking it back inside. The boys speed off into the night, leaving you alone with your thoughts as you rip into the letter.

Not letter, you realize as you slide the slip of paper out.

Boarding pass, with the final destination covered by a slip of dark tape and a firm note begging you not to remove it. And a teasing sentence that has you barking out a laugh.

You like surprises, don’t you?

When there’s a knock on your door, you’re only aware of two things.

1. Your shirt is on backwards.

2. Only one eye is completely open. The other is still half-closed, trying to cling to sleep. You can’t really blame it. You were up until three trying to not freak out, and it’s barely six in the morning now.

“Coming,” you groan out as you attempt to throw your shirt on the correct way. Padding over to the door, you realize that there may be some perks to beginning your date this early in the morning. One obvious point being the fact that you’re too groggy to go through your usual freakout before opening up the door.

When you do open the door, it takes a moment to discern who’s actually on the other side.

Hidden beneath a long coat and black ball cap, Jimin looks at you with a look that rivals your own exhaustion. In fact, the way his puffy eyelids seem to be competing with his bread cheeks has you turning into a giggling mess right there in the doorway.

Jimin winces. “What’s so funny?” He croaks out. You shake your head, impossibly endeared by the boy before you. One of your best friends, the one whose words of encouragement have helped you throughout this entire dating process.

Today, you really feel his words in full force. You deserve to go on some fun dates with your friends. Just enjoy it.

“Are you regretting this yet?” You shoot back. Now Jimin does crack a smile, opening his eyes fully to regard you.

“Ask me again in a few hours.” He sways on your porch, stretching and yawning. “Got everything?”

You hurry back inside, a bit of adrenaline pumping through your system now that you’re actually about to go on this date.

While you’re pretty sure you passed over into ‘wildest dream’ territory approximately three dates ago, you still can’t quite wrap your head around everything.

While you’re running around like a mad-woman trying to gather up your things, you don’t notice Jimin easing inside and quietly closing the door behind him. He watches you with a forgotten smile on his lips, tilting his head back against the door so he doesn’t have to open his eyes all the way.

You’re just double checking that you have your passport and boarding pass when a familiar hand wraps around your arm. Gently turning you around to face him, Jimin still wears his smile as he pulls into his embrace.

Once you’re nestled into him, you let go of all the tension in your shoulders with a great big sigh. Jimin speaks against your hair, the vibrations of his voice running up and down your spine.

“I miss you,” he mumbles.

You can’t help but chuckle, thinking that he’s still too tired to think straight. “But I’m right here…?”

He shakes his head, taking the opportunity to nuzzle in a little closer. “I miss you all the time, though. Even when you’re right in front of me.”

You pull away just enough to see his face. He smiles down at you, almost as though completely unaware of the sad statement he just made. “That’s a sad feeling,” you whisper. There’s nothing for your to do but acknowledge it.

He nods slowly, stepping back and gesturing for you to hand him your bag. “Sometimes, yeah. It’s just the truth.”

And with that, he whisks you away.

It’s been ages since you last traveled so far, but you take advantage of the chartered plane Jimin somehow convinced Bang Sihyuk to let him borrow, and stretch out.

Jimin does the same, bringing the blanket up to his chin while giving you a mock salute mere minutes after the plane took off.

“See you in ten hours,” he says before closing his eyes. You grin, absolutely positive that you won’t be able to sleep at all.

However, when you hear your name being called ages later, you crack an eye open to see none other than Park Jimin grinning like a fiend above you. It takes you a long moment to remember even getting on a plane, let alone what’s actually happening.

“We’re about an hour away,” Jimin chimes, giving you space to sit up and hopefully wipe the drool off of your face without him noticing. “So, would you like to know what our plans are for the day?”

“Yes,” you croak out, stretching. A glance at Jimin shows you that he must have changed clothes and gotten ready while you were sleeping. He now sports a black bucket hat paired with a dark t-shirt and mismatched denim jacket. He taps his boots on the floor, a sign of his excitement.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks. “You were out for nearly nine hours.”

You blink. How that happened is beyond you. Perhaps it had something to do with all of the overthinking you’ve been up to over the past week, leaving you utterly drained. “I slept great,” you admit. “Will you tell me where we’re going now?”

You peek out the window to see if that’ll give you a hint, but all you see it blue skies and unmarked land below.

“I will when we land,” he says. “First thing’s first, I’m sure you’re hungry. I was thinking we grab some food first thing. Now, take your pick: inside or outside?”

You glare at him for not revealing the location yet. For all you know, he could have paid someone to just fly the plane around in circles for hours and land you in Busan.

“Uh…outside.”

Jimin smiles, clearly pleased with your choice. “Good. Ok, next choice. Basilica or shopping?”

“B-basilica?!” You spit out, looking at Jimin as though he just announced he was taking you to the moon. “Where are we-“ You stop mid-sentence, holding your breath as is your habit whenever you get excited. “Wait…”

Jimin’s smile only grows. “Yes?” He asks with perfect piety.

Leave it to Park Jimin to look at a 24-hour window and decide to take you to Russia.

The second you’re off the plane and jumping into a taxi, you’re squealing like a school-girl.

“Park Jimin, I swear if this is all some dream and I’m about to wake up soon-” you hardly finish your sentence, mouth dropping open as you pass by a huge cathedral.

Jimin, on the other hand, looks quite content. He’s been here several times before; a fact that you’ve always brought up when talking about travelling with the boys. Russia has been on the top of your bucket-list for years now. Every time Jimin went he’d make sure to bring you back something special.

For years you’ve been half-planning to go on a trip with him the next time he went. Of course, you never actually believed that you’d go. But still, it was worth dreaming about.

“It’s not Moscow,” Jimin laments from your side. “But I’ve always favored St. Petersburg.”

For good reason.

It’s a clear day, the sun shining off of the city streets as though they were made of gold and not the same concrete found all over the world. People appear to be in high spirits as well; many couple wandering about hand in hand.

And you’re here. With Jimin.

Just like you always dreamed about.

So when you make it to your destination where the two of you would be eating brunch, you can’t help but chew on your lip as tears spring to your eyes.

“Jimin-ah,” you begin as you’re led to your table. It’s outside, which you’d chosen. Facing a river which is filled with ferries and tourists chattering freely.

“Yeah?” He asks, taking in your expression and instantly reaching across the table to grab your hand. “Everything alright? Maybe you slept too much. Or is your stomach upset from the flight? I know that happens to me sometimes on longer flights-”

You shake your head. “No, it’s just…” you sigh, trying to figure out how to best voice what you’re feeling. “You brought me to Russia.”

Jimin squints at you as though reading a book that’s in a foreign language. “…yes.” When you don’t make eye-contact with him, he raises his eyebrows. “Is this making you uncomfortable? I knew we should’ve talked about it first, but everyone was so excited so I automatically thought that you would be too, you know? It’s just, we’ve talked about this for forever, so I thought it’d be fun to actually bring you. Since I couldn’t, before.”

You blink. “Everyone was excited about it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin nods, sitting back in his seat. “Is that what you’re worried about? That I’m not being fair?”

Despite the hat sitting low on his head, you can see the worried glimmer in Jimin’s eyes. “I guess…” you squirm in your seat. “I really want to be here. I do. But don’t you think it’s a bit…well, it’s a bit much? For a first date? I mean, I would’ve been happy going through a drive-thru and chatting for a while.”

Now it’s Jimin’s turn to look a little lost. “Oh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”

A waiter comes by to check on you, and Jimin kindly explains that you’ll need more time to decide. Once they’ve disappeared from sight, Jimin sets his menu down and leans over the table.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

Nodding to himself, Jimin looks out over the river before turning back to face you. “This is possibly the most rash, stupid, bizarre thing I’ve ever done.”

You choke on a laugh at his sudden declaration. “What?”

“It is. Seriously. I mean, I’ve traveled a lot and done plenty of stupid things, as you well know-”

“Oh, like the swimming pool incident-”

“Yah,” he waves you off frantically, “I wasn’t asking for examples!”

“Ah, right.” You gesture for him to continue, a grin growing on your face. Once he can tell you’re not about to go recounting every embarrassing moment you’ve witnessed, Jimin goes on.

“It really is stupid. I mean, who does this?” He points around the restaurant. ��You’re right, we could’ve totally done something like we usually do; grab some takeout and chill. Maybe play a card game and lose miserably.”

“Wait, you lose or I lose?”

“Both. You know Jin would be there and he’d win.”

“Touché.”

Jimin sighs, throwing his chin onto the palm of his hand and looking at you with unveiled tenderness. “It’s not very often that we get free reign like this. So I thought it’d be nice, you know. To get to go do something a little crazy with you.”

You’re reminded of Taehyung’s route through Seoul, where he had a similar motive. If given the chance, wouldn’t you also like to take a day to just live a little? Even if it is a little unconventional?

Leaning back in your chair, you let out a breath of relief before bringing the menu up to your eyes and wiggling your brows at Jimin. “Well, then. I guess that makes sense. Although, I hope you know that you’re ruining my expectations for all other men I ever date.”

Mirroring your position, Jimin winks at you from over his menu. “Isn’t that the point?”

Brunch is delicious. Would would’ve thought that Russians have nailed French-style breakfast foods?

You’re just scooping up the last of your crêpe when Jimin leans back with a satisfied groan. “So, what do you wanna do next?”

“Wait, I’m supposed to choose?” You ask. Jimin nods, languidly looking you over and smiling crookedly when he spots a bit of chocolate on your face. You quickly wipe it off. “I don’t know…” you look around for inspiration, eyes landing on the ferry closest to you. “Oh, that. Can we do that?”

“Sounds perfect. That’ll take us to the basilica, I think.”

You chuckle darkly. “You think? Wow, how wild. Lost in Russia.”

Jimin smiles warmly at the waiter that swoops in to hand him the check. If he recognizes Jimin, you have no idea. He simply waits patiently as Jimin hands him his card and waits for him to return.

“Lost in Russia?” Jimin claps his hands together, nearly slipping off his seat as he giggles. “Take that, Shawn Mendes!”

You groan even as you laugh, burying your face in your hands.

The ferry is bustling with tourists, making you buzz with excitement as you finally board. Jimin makes sure to keep his hand in yours so you don’t get separated, keeping his head down when a couple of people look his way with curious expressions.

Once the ferry begins its slow journey, you find yourself standing before a railing overlooking the calm waters. Jimin comes to stand behind you, resting his hands on either side of your own which cling to the railing. He rests his chin on your shoulder, humming a tune you don’t recognize.

“Aren’t you the one that loves Anastasia?” Jimin asks, the question a mere hum in your ear.

“Mmhm. That’s me.”

“You know that it’s-“

“Aish, Park Jimin if you’re about to go off about how historically inaccurate it is, I’ll personally shove you off this ferry.”

Jimin’s laugh has him resting against you completely, hiding his face in your back and making your cheeks turn a little red as people look your way.

“It’s a great movie,” Jimin concedes. “Really, it is.”

You nod. “Yes. It is. And don’t you forget it.”

“I’m guessing that you love Dmitri, then?” He’s returned to his spot at your shoulder, arms sliding in a little tighter until his pinkies are linked through yours. You can’t help but smile at the sweet gesture, glancing down to take a mental picture.

“…yes.” You respond, a little wary that he’s about to start bashing on what is perhaps the most attractive animated character you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Instead, Jimin releases you from his grip and comes to stand by your side. Looking out over the river as though greeting an old friend, he rests his forearms against the railing. “What do you like about him?”

Well, isn’t today just chalk full of surprises.

“Well, for starters, he admits when he’s wrong. Despite the fame and money that he’s after, he’s actually pretty humble.” Your eyes drift over to the boy by your side. “He’s handsome,” Jimin snorts, nodding along reverently when you shoot him a glare. “And he just so clearly cares about Anastasia. Like, he’s willing to step out of the picture if that means she can be happy.”

A basilica comes into view, but you suspect that’s not the only thing taking your breath away.

No, it’s partly due to the fact that somehow, you’ve found yourself describing Jimin. If he realizes it, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he just winks at you, shooting you a smirk.

“Gotcha. Humble and hot.”

As the ferry docks at the opposite shore, you wonder if it’s too late to throw him overboard.

The basilica is open for tourists, and you find that you’ve got a kink in your neck from staring up at the ceiling the entirety of the tour.

Neither one of you understand a single word that’s being said, not wanting to wait around for a Korean translator. Instead, you opt for nodding along and laughing when everyone else does.

You have your arm linked through Jimin’s, trying to get a good look at a painted mural when he whispers something to you.

“You know, I heard that you and Namjoon had a fun time last week.”

Quick enough to give yourself whiplash, you turn to stare at Jimin with wide, guilty eyes. “W-what are you…I mean, yeah. Yeah, it was nice.”

Jimin bursts out laughing, immediately drawing the attention of the tour group. The tour guide gives the two of you a disapproving glare, which Jimin takes as an invitation to hang back as everyone else continues walking.

“Nice? Really? I thought the man would be a better kisser than just nice.”

Absolutely horrified, you bury your head in your hands. “Ergh…didn’t think…can’t believe he’d…”

“What was that? Can’t hear you,” Jimin teases with a knowing smirk. You smack his arm instinctively, only making him laugh harder.

“Why would you bring that up now?” You whine, running a hand through your hair.

“Why wouldn’t I? In my defense, I at least kept quiet about it for hours.”

You squint at him, “How did you find out?”

“Told me the second he got in the car,” Jimin replies, smile growing at your expression. You’d thought that was Jimin who’d been on the phone with Namjoon when he’d called to be picked up. “If it makes you feel any better, it was absolutely hilarious.”

“How would that make me feel better?!”

Only cackling in response, Jimin takes off after the group. You glare after him, pressing your hands to your cheeks and closing your eyes.

Wrong decision. The second you close your eyes you’re presented with an onslaught of memories; primarily one of Namjoon towering over you in a wardrobe.

You chase after Jimin, determined to bring up one of his embarrassing moments that will surely make him turn into a blushing mess.

“Ok, but at least I know not to eat a whole bag of sugar-free gummy bears-”

“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never been kicked out of a basilica before.”

The afternoon sun has quickly turned to the tell-tale golden hue of the evening. Jimin walks hand in hand with you down the street, the two of you the picture of calm and content.

“Me neither,” you sigh.

The tour guide didn’t take kindly to your bickering, quickly pointing to the exit once you’d resorted to attempting to stomp on Jimin’s feet like a child. He’d deserved it, though. Especially once he’d made a comment under his breath about the statue of lovers wrapped up in each other’s arms to be a spitting image of you and Namjoon.

“A wardrobe? Really?” Jimin shakes his head, tsking your behavior.

“Oh, shut up,” you hiss.

Wow. Jimin really is the Dmitri to your Anastasia. It would appear like he’s completely embodied the role he has throughout the first half of the movie, in which he’s endlessly annoying.

“Alright, alright. I’ll drop it.” He hold up a hand in innocence. “Should we get some skewers before the next thing?”

“I’d like to skewer you-”

“What was that, jagiya?” Jimin asks with a smirk.

“Oh, I just said that that sounds delicious.”

“Mhmm.”

Together you locate some delicious street-food, entering some sort of food heaven when the first bite touches your lips. “This is amazing,” you say around the food.

Jimin groans, closing his eyes as he eats up. “Here, try this.” He extends the skewer to you, leaning into your side as you sit together on the bench. Cupping your chin, he feeds you the next slice of meat, watching your reaction carefully.

You hum as the flavor makes your tastebuds dance, eyes growing wide as Jimin swipes a thumb over your bottom lip, gathering up the excess sheen from the juicy meat. You watch, completely enraptured as he pops the digit in his mouth without a second thought, taking another bite of the food as though nothing happened.

All you know is that you wouldn’t mind that happening again.

“S-so what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” You ask, voice a little higher than usual as you attempt to calm your beating heart.

“Mm, lemme check,” Jimin mumbles, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Oh! How is today going by so fast?”

“What?”

“We’ve got just enough time to pick out a souveneir before the show starts.” Rising from the bench, he takes another bite of his food. “Shall well?” You take his hand, allowing him to pull you up.

“What show?”

He looks you over. “You’ve heard of the Russian Ballet, right?”

You’re severely underdressed for a night out at the ballet, but Jimin reassures you that no one will notice. Together, the two of you roam about the Meriinsky theater’s souvenir shop.

“Oooh, Jimin, look!” You hold up a shirt with a burly man in a tutu. “You should totally get this.”

Jimin turns to face you, dissolving into a fit of laughter that has him falling to his knees. “No way, that’s horrible!”

You shrug, looking back and forth from the shirt and back to him. “I don’t know, I think it’d look kinda hot.”

Smile wiped from his face, Jimin snatches the shirt from you. “I’m getting it. Don’t try to stop me.”

You end up finding a similar shirt – this one has a ballerina balancing huge logs on her shoulders – to get with Jimin. Just as you head up to the cashier, you see Jimin sliding a small box across the table for the cashier to ring up.

“What’s that?” You ask, placing your shirt on top of his in the bag he holds open. Jimin shrugs.

“Just something.”

You frown. “That was vague.”

Tapping your nose, Jimin grins and nods at the cashier before taking the box and placing it inside the bag before you can get a good look at it. “So observant.”

The ballet begins their show at 6 o’clock. You sit near the front, in a spot that appears to be fairly inconspicuous. Jimin sits with the bag of your souvenirs placed under his chair, out of sight from your prying eyes.

You can’t help but feel like royalty as you look around the historic theater. It’s filled to the brim with natives and foreigners alike, most of which are dressed to the nines. The golden, old lighting casts shadows on everyone, thick fabric draping itself around the box seats.

Suddenly you remember what Jimin said to you so early this morning. I miss you even when you’re right in front of me.

It makes sense, now. There’s ache in your chest as you look around the theater, trying to memorize every last detail, knowing that this may very well be the last time you ever see it in such grandeur. The thought nearly rips your heart out of your chest. Knowing that this feeling is only temporary. You’re only royal for a day.

You turn to mention it to Jimin, only to find him looking at you in the same way you’ve looked at the theater.

Like you’re as timeless as the music that drifts up from the orchestra, and he’s just found out that he’s on a mortal timeline.

You will remain like this forever in his memory. Eyes bright and your right knee nervously bouncing up at down, only to be soothed by the sound of a lone violin that stands out amongst the other flurry of instruments.

He smiles, the action so at odds with the heavy look in his eyes. Reaching out, you take his hand from his lap, and without a single thought other than the way the golden lights are dimming and so is the look of pain in Jimin’s eyes, you press your lips to the tip of his knuckles. Once.

Twice.

And one more time, making it to his pinky knuckle and smiling against it before planting a kiss that feels more like a breath against it.

It’s nearly pitch black now, the curtains pulled open to reveal the breathtaking ballerina, but you find that you can’t quite look away. Not as Jimin continues to look at you with that indescribable expression that has somehow shifted into something more. He brings his hand back to his lap, enveloping your hand in both of his.

“It’s starting,” he breathes out.

You know that he means the production is beginning. Indeed, in your peripheral you see the ballerina who doubles as Sleeping Beauty tonight takes to the stage amidst the sound of awed clapping. But you can’t help but find a different meaning in those two words.

It’s starting to get harder.

Because anytime you close your eyes, you see Namjoon before you in the wardrobe, tentative hope in his eyes.

Because your wrist burns with Hobi’s bracelet linked around it, a constant reminder of the ghost of his lips on your palm.

Because you wake up in the middle of the night every night, looking to your doorway in hopes of finding Taehyung leaning against it with a smirk that does nothing to fool you.

And now there’s Jimin, filling your mind with his confession this morning. I miss you.

You’ve unknowingly boarded a runaway train.

Who cut the brakes on this thing?

The ballet is beautiful.

Like, beautiful in the way that you don’t want it to ever end. The music coming from the pit weaves the story, the ballerinas working in tandem with every note to bring it to life.

Once you enter into the final act, you find yourself squeezes Jimin’s hand as though watching a horror movie. He traces soothing patterns against your skin even as he quietly laughs.

“How’re you holding up over there?” He drawls in your ear.

“I don’t want it to end,” you reply, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Like all good things, it does. Jimin allows you to linger for a while longer, even after most of the people of exited the building. You remain in your seat, staring up at the stage now covered by thick curtains, almost as though waiting for the production to start up again.

Finally, you notice the ache in your legs from sitting in a confined space for so long, and get up.

“How was it?” Jimin asks, leading you out of the marvelous theater.

You blink. “How was it? I…I think my soul left my body for a minute back there.”

You walk out to find that night has fallen, Jimin laughing up at the stars. “Wow. That’s a pretty intense experience.”

“Yeah, well.”

Skipping ahead of you, Jimin turns around to face you with a silly grin. “We’ll come back someday,” he promises. “Maybe we’ll go to Moscow. They perform ‘Black Swan’ there.”

You blink. “And they don’t in St. Petersburg?”

Jimin shrugs, reaching out for your hands, which you extend to him. He continues walking backward, unwilling to let go of either hand. “They haven’t, yet.”

“Why not?”

“It has something to do with the political climate here versus in Moscow.”

“Huh.” You take a moment to take in the view before you, Jimin looking like he belongs here among the stars and streetlamps. “You seem to know a lot about the Russian Ballet.”

Again, he shrugs, this time accompanied by a crooked smile. “I read about it on the flight over.” He pauses, waiting for you to catch up to him before walking side by side. “Which, speaking of flights…”

“Don’t we have one to catch?”

“Exactly.”

It’s painful, leaving St. Petersburg behind. You watch through the window of the airplane as you take off, the lights winking at you in a silent goodbye.

Jimin watches from the opposite side of the plane, an absent-minded smile yet again on his face. He quietly orders a bit of food for the two of you, knowing that you’ll be hungry soon.

Once St. Petersburg vanishes from your view, you glance over at Jimin who fiddles with the safety pamphlet.

“That was amazing.”

He furrows his brows, not looking up yet. “What? The plane taking off?”

“No, you know what I mean.” He continues to look at you, feigning ignorance. “All of it. That…date. That was seriously a dream.”

Jimin openly stares at you for a moment as though not expecting such a reaction before averting his eyes. You watch with amusement as his cheeks flood with pink, a silent testament to how flustered you can make him.

“Yeah,” he coughs awkwardly. “I guess you could say…it was nice.” He looks at you expectantly.

You frown, not quite understanding what he means until – “Jimin!”

He sinks low in his seat, body shaking with laughter. “First thing I do when we get back is tell Namjoon you said that about your kiss. I’m not even kidding,” he says as he wipes fake tears from his eyes.

“Just- yah!” Absolutely embarrassed, you turn to stare out the window again, ignoring the laughing boy.

Your mind is dazed once you return to Seoul, clambering inside a car that Jimin is somehow able to drive despite being clearly exhausted from the long flight. You share a comfortable silence as you replay that events of the past 24 hours in your mind.

The sound of the orchestra is still ringing in your ears by the time Jimin pulls up in front of your apartment. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t need to get out of the car when he’s hurry around to open your door.

“You look exhausted,” you remark sleepily.

He doesn’t have the energy to pretend to be offended. “So do you.”

Indeed you do, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the car window before setting off toward your door. The few steps up to your apartment appear to be the same as Mount Everest, Jimin’s hand on the small of your back proving to be the only thing keeping you moving forward.

You watched four movies on the flight back. Jimin had urged you to try to at least nap, but you couldn’t. You were too wired, mind running nonstop with different ideas and memories. And now you’re paying the price as you stumble up the stairs.

Once Jimin has ascertained that you’re not about to fall over, he takes his hand off your back. “Made it,” he mumbles out.

“Mmm.”

He chuckles softly, reaching out to pull you in for a soft hug. It’s warm in his arms, making you close your eyes and rest against his shoulder. You could stay here for hours-

“Don’t go falling asleep on me,” Jimin quietly warns, looking at you fondly as he pulls away. He notes your still-closed eyes and leans in to peck your cheek.

He grins when he pulls away, seeing that your eyes are now wide open. You’re a little flushed from the unexpected peck, but it’s still dark enough in the early morning light that you hope he doesn’t notice.

“Here, your souvenir,” he hands you the bag from the Meriinsky theater, which you take. “Go in and sleep.”

Once you manage to get the door unlocked, you’re slipping inside and waving goodbye as Jimin hurries back down to his car. Just before he gets in, you call out to him.

“Jimin-ah!”

He holds the drivers-side door open. “What?”

Giving him another little wave, you shout, “Thank you!”

“Anytime.”

With that, he hops in and drives away.

You don’t remember walking to your bedroom, but you’re grateful that you’ve found your bed. Still holding the bag, it swings down to hit your legs.

“Ow!” Something solid hits your shin from inside the bag, leading you to investigate its contents.

Hiding beneath your shirt you got, sits the small box you’d spied Jimin buying. On top of it sits a crinkled post-it note, one he must have found while you were immersed in your movies on the flight.

To my Anastasia – hopefully this will be enough to say ‘thank you’.

Brows furrowed in curiosity, you slide the box open and pull out a small object wrapped in bubble wrap. Carefully unwrapping it, your mouth falls open in a silent gasp when you uncover your little present.

It’s a music box.

Opening it, you ignore the little tears springing to your eyes as it reveals a ballerina, spinning in perfect circles to the music that dives out.

Setting it on your nightstand, you close your eyes and let the music ease you into your dreams. You’re left with a distinct feeling that lingers even when you wake up hours later.

You still feel like royalty.

main masterlist

please let me know what your thoughts are! You don’t necessarily have to be rooting for one of the boys specifically, but let me know who you think has the best shot/who you really swooned over! ;)

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taglist: @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine @hqtetsurou @protontippens @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797 @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall @miriamxsworld @luvtaeha @fanfictionreader05 @mininimmy @dreadity @starlight-night0 @luzaroon @seaoffangirling @prachi05 @fangirl125reader @bluehairedotakugem @hunnibxbe @kayahay @seokjinmoonfics @littletinyhobi @honeyhalcyon @yoontaethings @herrmionejgranger @delacyrose224

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