#invasive weed kill
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if i do manage to get anyone interested in watching attack the block quick notes: its 2011 a comedy horror and is violently English, set in generic council block of flats in south london. aliens invade and a group of mostly teens have to fight them off. its a great film and has a lot to say politicaly but its very much still a comedy, balancing well emotional parts and lines like "What's Ron's weed room?" "It's a big room! Full of weed. And it's Ron's." no marvelesq emotion climaxes cut off by quips. really good plot twist/subversion part way thru. a fun movie that does have things to say.
also warning for some breif scenes of police violence
#do i need to say violently english again?#the actings great especially given most of the main cast are kids#it also has jodie whats her name#the thirteenth docter#shit synopsis: dr who gets mugged by finn and his freinds who procede to kill teh advance force of a alien invasion and have to all team up#with people from their block of flats inculdind ron. the guy with the weed room<- the weed room is significant to the plot im not kidding#attack the block
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#💐: tiny’s blooms#pink primroses#mallows#those other ones used to have their sap extracted to flavor marshmallows#there is a literal species called the marsh mallow#malva species#the primroses are huge ngl 🫣 big and pretty!#gonna find more of these tomorrow so i can use them in my resin projects#might MIGHT set up an etsy store idk#my hobby also forces me to exercise so win win in this case#i legit do not go outside often bc people and it’s always hell season where i’m at pls#by the way mallows are a bit invasive so i’m basically one of my neighbors’ free gardener#they know i’ll dig out the weeds that kill their lawn and keep the ones that look the prettiest 😂#this is basically a case of mutualism#yellow trout lily#stemmy four-nerve daisy#really not sure about the daisy part but it keeps coming up in my research so it must be a daisy?
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i need weed. i need a medical card so bad or im gonna go out of my fuckign GOURD
#speak friend and enter#let me preface this by saying that im doing everything in my power to not let mental illness wipe its greasy hands on me#however. im insane in the membrane and i can feel myself slipping back into lunatic mode#i have to go for an mri next week and i genuinely don't know if i can do it. i am so fucking terrified you have no idea#i'll spare y'all the grisly details but i was chronically ill as a kid (and not just like sick a lot it was touch and go there for a bit)#and as a result of certain procedures i had to undergo to abate the aforementioned chronic illness#i developed ptsd that manifests as an irrational but obscenely debilitating fear of hospitals#like i can't go in a hospital without having a psychotic episode. like clinically i just can't do it#but as part of my yearly post-whatever care i have to get imaging done and this year that entails an mri and. im just scared#i spent a significant portion of my time immediately post ptsd symptom presentation believing that my doctors were trying to kill me#like for sport. like i thought there was some larger deep state esque plan in place to enact further medical barbarism upon me for giggles#and obviously you and i both know that's a delusion with no basis in reality but that doesn't mean i can stop myself from believing it.#it's like a word-of-god thing. i know logically that it's not true but there's a voice in my head screaming 'they want to flay you alive'#and i am currently between therapists and also unmedicated bc my last therapist was too focused on inner child work#to give me the prozac and weed card i really need#like that's great that you think healing my inner child will solve this but my inner child is covered in her own viscera. can we pivot mayb#but anyway for the moment im just wallowing in my own fear and im doubly scared bc im finding myself falling into rabbit holes again#like empirically the worst thing that's gonna happen as a result of this mri is that they're gonna say i have to have another surgery#and the technology has advanced to a point where its way less invasive than what ive had previously#but the constant dull roar of my thoughts about the whole deal is just. increasingly delusional nonsense#and not to be overly morbid or anything but i decided a long time ago that if i ever had to be admitted to the hospital again i would rathe#well you know. and i don't wanna die. honestly i don't. but the idea of wading through that particular brand of hell again is torture#and im not gonna kill myself. im not. ive been working on that impulse for a long time and i don't want to undo all of that work#but im scared and i dont wanna spend the rest of my life in n out of the hospital or as a substance-abusing recluse. is that so much to ask#i want to fix this. i do. i don't wanna live in a hole anymore as fantastic mr fox would say. but the horrors persist#and i often find myself increasingly unable to cope. hence why i need the weed#anyway i'll be fine. eventually. i hope. but in the meantime i do want to say i appreciate you all. i mean it#i tend to regard myself (fairly or otherwise) as difficult to get along with in real life so despite the fact that i don't talk w y'all muc#i do appreciate y'all being there and making me feel like more of a person than i feel like i am lately <3
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This and also the same thing but with ‘bug’ replaced with ‘plant’ and ‘pest control’ replaced with ‘weed control’ and ‘lawn services’
This is what trying to get info on insects is like and it pisses me off
#please give me the info on cool bugs and plants#without a kajillion results on why it needs to Die#especially pisses me off when actual invasive plants get normal results#but something that naturally grows around here gets ITS A WEED KILL IT WITH POISON
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Weeding the field bindweed has been unpleasant but the California poppies are worth it.
#hummingbird house#slowly killing invasive plantss and planting native plants#the rain has made weeding a real chore#but I hope it staves off wildfires#harper talks
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ready or not, here we come
ghostface!wandanatcarol x reader
masterlist
word count: 5.3k
warnings: home invasion, death threats, knife play, cutting, some blood, slapping, stalking, begging, fingering, restraint, strap on sex (r receiving), anal, double penetration, triple penetration, overestimation, implied character death. lmk if i missed anything
It was pretty much a once in a lifetime moment for you to have the entire house to yourself, so you were more than prepared to take full advantage. Trouble was, there were too many options and only one night to fulfil as much as you could.
You could have brought someone home from your local bar to fool around with on whatever surface you pleased, though that meant being away from the house for a couple hours because your home was outside of town. You could have dug up your secret bag of weed in the back of your closet to smoke the house down, but if the potent smell still lingered when your parents strolled through the door the next day then you would be in deep shit. Maybe you should have just gotten off and made the most of not worrying about being too loud while enjoying your own company.
When you stepped into the lounge your eyes landed on the tv standing proudly at the front. Then again, maybe you could just watch your favourite horror films on the best quality screen in the house without anyone around to make noises of disgust at the kill scenes. Paired with the raw cookie dough your mum always scolded you for eating, it could be the perfect night.
You dashed upstairs and swiftly changed into your sleeping shorts and shirt, unaware of the heavy gaze that watched you strip. You practically lived in the middle of nowhere and had never really felt the need to close your blinds when you changed. Or even when you slept. It was a good area - quiet.
Just as your bare feet hit the downstairs landing, the phone rang through the hall. You considered ignoring it because whoever was on the other line certainly wasn’t going to be calling for you and from the sounds of it, half the people that your parents answered to were reps or scammers. Still, you were willing to bet the one phone call you didn’t answer was the one someone in the house was expecting but never mentioned.
“Hello?” You asked as you eyed the kitchen you were eager to get to.
“Hello?” A male voice came through.
“Yes?” You frowned, wanting to get on with your evening and not entertain whoever was giving up their own Friday night to call your house.
“Who is this?” The man asked.
“Who are you trying to reach?” You questioned back, maintaining your manners despite not being the least bit interested.
“What number is this?” He continued. Okay, you were done with this.
“Probably not the one you’re looking for,” you chuckled. “Goodnight,” you said and placed the phone back on the receiver without another word. You started back towards the kitchen when the phone rang behind you again.
Seriously?
You glanced back at the device, wondering if it was just playing up but after several tones you trudged back and picked it up. “Hello,” you answered.
“I’m sorry, I had the wrong number,” the man told you with a certain calmness you were supposed to be feeling while you devoured the sugary treat you were craving.
“So why’d you dial it again?”
“To apologise,” he said simply.
“You’re forgiven, goodnight,” you repeated but apparently the caller wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.
“Wait, wait. Don’t hang up,” he insisted and you wondered briefly if he was as stoned as you could have been. He sounded it.
“What?”
“I wanna talk to you for a minute,” he said. You rolled your eyes, mildly amused by the caller’s unusual antics.
“There are other numbers for that, bye,” you informed lightly, pressing the phone down firmer than before. You strolled away and the silence remained.
The caller left your mind as soon as you began mixing together the ingredients you needed and left your house in a comfortable silence as you worked. Your hands worked absently, placing everything together until you were done. The moment you finished washing your hands, the phone rang again.
You huffed, picking up the device. “Hello?” You asked, patience clearly running out.
“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” You weren’t surprised to hear his voice.
“Who is this?” You frowned as you gathered the bowl and a drink in your free hand.
“You tell me,” he replied, like he was such a smart ass. “You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine,” he said playfully. You scoffed a little.
“I don’t think so,” you told him though you weren’t so quick to hang up this time, hoping that entertaining him for a bit longer would make him stop.
“What is that?” He asked instead when you placed the bowl down on the table.
“Just something to snack on while I watch a movie,” you explained absently as you retrieved your drink.
“What kind?”
“Just some scary movie,” you told him vaguely because you hadn’t decided on one yet.
“You like scary movies?” You smiled at the teasing manner he used whenever people were trying to scare their friends, willing to bet he was leading up to something.
“Uh huh.”
“What’s your favourite scary movie?” He asked and you grinned more.
“Halloween,” you recited at once. “I like the classics. What’s yours?”
“Guess.” You opened up Netflix on the tv to put the film on and saw a few horror titles on there to give you some inspiration. “No cheating,” he warned and you scoffed again.
“Nightmare on Elm Street,” you suggested. He merely chuckled.
“So, you got a boyfriend?” The mystery caller continued. You didn’t comment on the random change of topics as you ventured leisurely around your house double checking all of the locks before you got ready to hang up and settle down.
“No, why? Do you want to ask me out on a date?” You entertained further. It wasn’t like you were ever going to meet this guy.
“Maybe,” he chuckled. “You never did tell me your name?”
“Why do you wanna know my name?” You approached the front door with an excited spring in your step.
“Because I wanna know who I’m looking at.” You swallowed thickly with your hand on the handle of the door, feeling an icy cold drop in your chest as you stood perfectly still.
“What did you say?” You spoke slowly, turning the lock on the door without checking if it was already locked or not.
“I said I wanna know who I’m talking to,” he replied simply as you exhaled with forceful steadiness. You didn’t respond to him as you switched the porch light on and peered outside. “Hello?” Came the voice as you scanned the area the light cast onto. You found nothing and in a way that felt worse.
“Look, I gotta go,” you told him as you turned the porch light off, feeling the need to make it look as though there was no one in the house. Whoever was calling was probably just some bored teenager that wanted to scare you. Maybe they knew you from school and had heard you in passing mention your love for horror movies.
“You hang up on me and I’ll gut you like a fish,” he spat, shifting his tone entirely. “Understand?” You didn’t respond, too busy flickering your gaze over every window and door in your immediate vicinity. “Yeah.” You could hear the smile in the sick fucks voice as your hands began to shake.
“I wanna play a game with you,” he said. “Can you handle that?” There was a clear taunt to his voice as you approached the window closest to you and peered out into the pitch black. You remembered your science teacher making a comment about light being on one side of a window at night. Though you couldn’t make out a thing in the darkness, anyone on the other side of that glass could see you in your fearful entirety.
“Can you see me?”
“Listen, I am two seconds from calling the police,” you warned, entirely too aware of how unthreatening you appeared when your voice was shaking and tears were stuck in your throat.
“They’d never make it in time,” he told you.
“What do you want?” You whimpered, pacing through your home.
“To see what your insides look like.” You hung up the phone and frantically dialled the three numbers you needed when the doorbell rang. You stumbled backwards through the corridor to get to the other side of the house while your blurred eyes stayed glued to the front door.
“Leave me alone!” You screamed though it did nothing to warn off the trespasser because less than a second later a cloaked figure smashed through the glass door behind you. They shook off the glass and slight disorientation as you bolted out of the room, dropping the phone in your fright. You had never felt fear like it as you heard them run after you, heavy boots crunching on the glass they had shattered to reach you.
You had just enough time to unlock and open the front door as you heard the cloaked figure advance and for a brief second you had a spark of hope that if you just kept running, you would escape them. The last thing you had expected was to throw open the door and be faced with the same eerie ghost mask you hadn’t gotten the chance to see the other invader wear. You didn’t give it much thought though, because it was more than obvious that whoever was behind that mask was not someone that wanted to help you.
Miraculously, you dodged them both when they lunged for you, sprinting to your right with no real plan as to how you could escape them both while inside your home. Your blood was pumping as fast as the adrenaline struck every limb in your body, willing you to just move. You obeyed, running full force into the solid body that appeared out of nowhere.
You grunted and before you could fall down on your own, the third masked figure took hold of your shirt and threw you down to the hard floor behind them with ease. You hit the wooden floor hard, your ribs taking the full impact and aching in protest to the bend they endured. You ignored the ache that was dulled by the shock and scrambled to get to your feet and give yourself some fighting chance against the odds, but a military style boot pressed firmly into the centre of your back and held you in place. Your lungs screamed at the suppression but you were in no state to help.
“Please,” you cried out as you tried to reach behind you to scratch at any exposed skin you could find. “I have money,” you attempted to negotiate with tears streaming down your cheeks.
“Aw, she has money,” one of them echoed. You recognised that haunting voice.
“You,” you whispered.
“Me,” the guy from the phone answered back.
“Look at all the effort I’ve gone to. Can I ask you out on a date now?” The others chuckled and you frowned at how similar they all sounded.
“I’ll do anything,” you told them, still struggling under their weight.
“Yes,” they said simply. “You will.” Suddenly, you were kicked onto your back and forced to gaze up at the three strangers before you. The first thing you noticed were the knives. They all held the same dagger that glistened threateningly under your home’s lights, itching to have their polished blade’s stained with whatever they desired to take from you.
“You’re going to be our first,” the one closest to you declared as they crouched down next to you and tilted their head, as though considering where to start.
“You should be honoured,” another told as they strolled around the perimeter of the room until they were in your blind spot. “You’re going to be the first one to feel our blades,” they whispered close to your ear and hauled you up by the hair so you were pressed firmly against their cloaked front and unable to squirm away when their menacing blade was pressed against your neck.
“So we thought we’d do something a little special for you.” Your desperate attempts to claw at the body behind you only served to amuse the other intruders whose cloaks were too thick for your nails even in your survival fueled strength.
“Please!” You begged again, unable to escape the coolness of the blade that was dangerously close to your jugular. It was futile to fight against one of them, never mind hope to get past the two that blocked both your exits.
“Please,” the one behind you mocked. “Please what?” They waited patiently for your answer as you stared at them in terror.
“Please don’t kill me,” you said quickly, knowing it wasn’t going to make a difference. “If you leave I won’t say anything. I don’t know who any of you are,” you reasoned. They looked between each other in silent communication before reaching for the ghost masks and pulling them swiftly from their heads.
What the fuck?
“What about now?” Wanda asked, a smirk gracing the features that you had always admired from afar. Next to her, Natasha’s gaze bore into yours, void of the clear excitement her girlfriend had and instead looking at you like one of her hunting trophies she had collected from far too young an age.
You couldn’t see her, but Carol’s unmistakable voice was by your side. “Now lets play that game.” Her lips ghosted over your neck just under your ear as she spoke and you felt the knife twitch with her impatience.
“So competitive,” Wanda chided but her smirk didn’t waver. Natasha remained silent as she watched you.
“We’ll give you a five second head start to run,” Carol told you as she reluctantly moved her knife away and shoved you forwards. The pair in front of you stepped aside to create a clear path to the opened front door.
“Five,” Carol began and you sprung to your feet. To all of their surprise, you didn’t go for the door, you went for the stairs.
The three women were the best athletes in your school and you knew that if you ran out of the house you would have no chance of outrunning any of them, but maybe if you got ahold of the handgun your dad kept in his bedroom, you would stand a better chance of surviving the night.
“Four,” they continued as you ascended the stairs, scrambling over the steps quicker than you ever had in your life, even when you were a young child that thought monsters might be following you in the dark. Except this time they really were.
“Three.” You barged into your parents room and made for the safe in the corner.
“Two.” Your fingers fumbled against the number pad, making you enter the code wrong the first time until it clicked in confirmation for you to swing the door open to present an empty space. Your heart plummeted.
“One.” There was no time to ponder the location of the missing weapon, the only thing you could do was sprint to the best exit available.
“Ready or not, here we come,” Carol taunted as three sets of boots thudded up the stairs. Taking your chance, you ran to your own room towards the window that was in place just above the porch’s shelter. If you jumped from your own window down to the roof, there would be less chance of you injuring yourself and you would have a better shot of outrunning the intruders.
By the time you made it to your window, the first of the three was in your room just in time to see you struggling to pry open the old wood. Your heart hammered in your chest, refusing to look back at them as you failed to get a good grip on the window, unaware that it had been glued shut an hour prior.
“It’s almost a shame how predictable you are,” Natasha told you, grabbing you by the arm and hauling you on to your bed. Just as you landed, you leant back and put all of your energy into swinging your elbow into her ribs. She stumbled back at the impact and you moved to strike again but a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you just an inch off the floor. “But at least you’ve got some fight in you,” Natasha quipped as she watched you flair about in Carol’s arms.
“Fuck you!” You spat, realising that begging and compromising weren’t going to help you. “Let me go!”
“But darling, we can’t let you run off now. You’re bleeding,” Wanda told you, voice thick with concern you knew she didn’t have. You frowned, unable to recall when their knives had actually broken skin until you were introduced to Natasha’s dagger. She swiped the fierce blade across your abdomen, slicing through your thin shirt and leaving a trail of red across your skin that made you hiss. It wasn’t deep, but the next one was.
“And now you’ve messed up your clothes,” Carol added as she held you firmly against her so that Wanda could tear your shirt off you while you continued to struggle.
“You poor thing,” the Sokovian pouted as she examined the scarlet streaks across your stomach, tracing them with her fingers and smearing the blood up to your tits. She groped and pinched at your hardened nipples, chuckling when you turned your head to the side with a whine.
“Stop,” you whimpered, voice small.
“You’re not in charge here,” Carol warned. Her fingers were digging into your hips so firmly that you were sure she was going to leave you with bruises. You were powerless against it as you squirmed in her grasp, even as she threw you down onto your bed.
“Fuck!” You cried out when you felt another slash hit the back of your thighs. You tried to scramble away but a gloved hand wrapped itself around the back of your neck and held you down into the mattress.
“You had your chance to run,” Wanda said as she appeared on your pillows and switched her hold to your hair to tug you up and face her. You gritted your teeth with a glare, not ready to give up your fight yet. “Now you do as we say.”
You continued to glare at the Sokovian as a strong pair of gloved hands lifted your hips up to slide your shorts and underwear down painfully slowly, just because they could. The cold air hit you and sent a shiver through your body while your cheeks heard in embarrassment at being so exposed to the woman. You were sure Wanda’s heavy gaze noticed, but she didn’t comment, instead focused on rubbing her covered thumb across your lips.
“Open up.” She tapped them twice but you kept your lips firmly together. She smiled, amused, then delivered a harsh slap to your cheeks that heated them further. You still didn’t comply until she slapped you harder and your mouth fell open in shock, giving Wanda the chance to slip her fingers into your mouth and immediately press down on your tongue. You went to bite down on the rough material but the hand in your hair was suddenly gripping your jaw and holding it apart. You gagged slightly around her digits, trying your best to block out the laughter you heard around the room.
“I bet you’ll look so good choking on my strap,” Wanda mumbled, enchanted by the sight of you drooling around her gloves. Your protests were incoherent and you had a hard time not letting your head empty as Wanda slowly thrust her fingers. Even when she took her fingers out to pull her gloves off before filling your mouth again, you didn’t mumble a complaint…until you felt two fingers stroke your bare cunt.
You tried to twist around to at least see who it was, but Wanda was adamant on keeping your gaze fixed on her as one of the women collected the wetness you didn’t know was there and rubbed several circles on your clit. Your hips bucked involuntarily and you whined around Wanda’s digits.
“What was it that got you so sweet, doll?” Carol asked. “Was it when Natasha cut you? When we chased you up the stairs? Told you all those nasty things on the phone?” The blonde didn’t expect an answer and didn’t wait for one. She pushed two fingers forwards, groaning when your pussy took her in. You heard her curse and wanted to thrash away, but it was hard to deny how good it felt to have her skilled fingers inside you.
“Desperate whore,” Natasha commented as she appeared by Wanda’s side. The pair shared a passionate kiss as the Sokovian continued to thrust her own fingers and you couldn’t help but clench at the sight.
“You like watching them, doll? I didn’t take you for a voyeur,” Carol chuckled, curling her digits to elicit the reaction she wanted. You moaned when she brushed against the spot you needed, momentarily forgetting about the weapons they held until Natasha placed hers against your jugular.
“Malysh, let us play a little longer,” Wanda pouted to her lover. Natasha’s blank eyes bore into your own, still void of the excitement the other women held. Still, she pulled her knife away with a huff, making her girlfriend giggle as though she had become giddy at the promise of impending violence. “Let’s keep her entertained so she doesn’t regret that, huh?” Wanda whispered with a grin. You had always loved seeing her smile from afar, but in that moment you could only see the craze that sparkled in her eyes. She was terrifying, but still beautiful.
Almost so beautiful that between her and the fingers still steadily fucking you, you didn’t notice her unzip her trousers and pull out her strap until she was forcing you down on it. Your gags filled the room as she pushed you down by the back of your head, moaning softly at the way you struggled to take her. Tears filled your eyes and a distinct burning started up at the back of your throat as Wanda tried to break through. Your lips were wrapped so perfectly around her that she couldn’t help but buck her hips up slightly to chase some friction at your expense while you hit her thighs.
“Fuck, you get so tight when you can’t breath,” Carol groaned as pushed a third finger into you and scissored her digits slightly to enhance the stretch. Before you could grow accustomed, she pulled her soaked fingers out and pressed her own silicone toy between your legs. She prodded bashfully at your throbbing clit until you were shaking, wetting the length of the toy.
Carol muttered a curse when she pressed the head of her cock against your entrance that refused to part for her. You whimpered around the toy stuffing your mouth, feeling how large Carol was against you and how much it might hurt when she-
“Take it,” the blonde hissed when she finally forced her strap inside your cunt. Your legs gave out but she quickly took hold of your hips and used them to thrust further, deeper, inside you.
“How’s that feel, love?” Wanda asked as she brushed your hair away from your features that were blurred with pain and pleasure. The stretch was intense and it was hard to imagine a point that you would even begin to adjust to Carol’s size as she refused to let up, adamant that you take all of her. “You look so pretty getting stuffed like a good fucktoy,” she told you, almost in a singsong tone. “Don’t you think?” Wanda turned to her partner who sat in your chair to the side, her gaze dead set on you. If you hadn’t already been so overstimulated, you would have shuddered. Natasha was looking at you like you were her prey and you couldn’t hold her gazy any longer.
Carol didn’t pause for a second when her hips finally pressed against your own. She didn’t give you a moment to adjust or prepare, she instantly drew her hips back only to slam the entire length back into your abused cunt. You cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks.
Wanda cooed at the sight of you struggling to take them both, whispering condescending praises that you couldn’t pick up entirely. ‘Sweet fuck’ and ‘good whore’ were all you picked up as Wanda held you by the hair and made you continuously deepthroat her own toy while Carol pumped her cock in from behind, pace unrelenting. Your cunt burned in a pleasure you never could have imagined, bringing out moans you didn’t want to please the intruders with but couldn’t stop. It just felt so good to be used. Too good, more than you could hold off on.
“Gonna cum,” you managed to communicate when your whines grew louder and Wanda pulled you off her strap, spit down your chin and coating her toy.
“Cum for us,” Wanda said, pupils blown with lust at the sight beneath her. She pushed her strap back into your mouth but this time angled it slightly lower so that the harness could provide better friction for her clit. You didn’t realise what you were doing for her until you registered the stutter of her hips as she came with you.
“Fuck,” Wanda voiced as you cried out around her strap, clenching and pulsing around the cock in your pussy as Carol continued to fuck you relentlessly, pace still harsh. You shuddered and moaned, unable to distinguish up from down as your high was drawn out and you were sent toppling into a second one.
“Greedy thing,” you vaguely heard Natasha mutter as she stood up from the chair. Her boots thudded as she stalked towards the tangle of bodies, still only eyeing you.
“Come on, Nat. If she wants more, let's give her more,” Carol said, a smirk on her features that you never got to see. Natasha hummed, a trace of a smile threatening to break through.
As pathetic as it was, you could have cried when Carol pulled out. You immediately felt empty but bit your tongue when you felt a pair of hands haul you up the bed until you were straddling Wanda’s own piece that glistened in the low light. She didn’t give you any instructions or warnings, merely pulled your hips down until you were half way filled with her strap. Without anything to stop you this time, your moans bounced off of the walls.
Despite the laughter you heard, you were also met with a firm slap to the face from Natasha. She still had her gloves on and had more force to the act than Wanda did, more aggression. It was clear that out of the three, she was the one that wanted to hurt you the most. She grabbed your chin, assessing you for a hard minute as you grinded into the base of Wanda’s strap.
“Danvers, come here,” she said without taking her eyes off of you. Carol grumbled something about the redhead not being in charge but complied as the two swapped places. It unnerved you greatly to know she was lurking somewhere behind you, but the other women kept your focus on them.
Wanda suddenly bucked her hips up and took a hold of your waist, making you follow her shallow thrusts as though she didn’t want to be that far from you. It meant that the head of her cock hit the back of your pussy more often and with more force and it felt incredible.
“You look so good like this,” Wanda husked, her accent slipping through slightly in her haze.
“Keep her still,” Natasha’s voice came behind you. Wanda stilled her movements and slapped your thigh when you tried to move against her. You met her smirk with a silent plea until you felt two wet fingers prod against your ass.
“Wait-” you tried but Natasha was already pushing them into the first knuckle, despite your discomfort.
“No,” the redhead said back as her lips ghosted over your shoulder and her teeth sunk into your skin. You whined at the dual pain and in trying to move away only made the strap shift inside you.
It was all too much as you felt Natasha begin to thrust her fingers into your ass steadily. She twisted and curled her fingers before fanning them out to open you up while Wanda began to move your hips once more. The discomfort and pleasure blurred together until you found yourself craving anything they gave you. Your moans picked up more when Carol’s lips found your nipples.
“You’ll take what we give you,” Natasha said, gliding her dagger around your torso where the looming threat settled. She pulled her fingers out of your tightest hole only to swiftly replace them with her strap.
“Fuck, please!” You gasped at the sudden intrusion. “Too much,” you tried to communicate as you felt your body stretch once more.
“Shut her up,” Natasha huffed as she bore more of her weight down on you so that you took more of her piece. Your walls stretched so painfully that you almost didn’t register the cut to your torso. You cried out and fell against Wanda only to be pushed back so Carol could slide her strap between your lips.
With all three of them pounding into you in a purely primal manner, your body finally gave in to their assaults. Your eyes glazed over, unable to focus on any one thing as every thought in your mind struggled to make itself known. All you were aware of was the way seemingly every nerve in your defeated body was ablaze with an onslaught on sensations. The three women eventually found a rhythm to fall into together that ensured you were never empty, even as drops of blood fell from your scarlet chest you were too lost in the pleasure to acknowledge.
“You’re going to be the prettiest victim,” Natasha mumbled against your ear, biting the lobe softly. You whimpered, though not in fear. Their straps were hitting your depths over and over, never letting up for a second. Your holes welcomed them greedily, clenching around the silicone everytime they pulled out and making each woman grunt at the tightness. They made comments you mostly missed, but the degradation you picked up on only made you wetter, as Wanda pointed out. They were ruthless and even when you came again, they didn’t stop.
You whined around Carol’s toy, trying desperately to communicate how sore and used you felt. You needed a break to let your body recover, but it was made clear to you that you were done when the three women agreed you were. They pulled more orgasms from your wrecked frame, not caring when you soaked Wanda’s thighs with your cum or Carol’s with your spit. When you eventually passed out from the overstimulation, they withdrew.
You slumped against the Sokovian in an exhausted heap, barely able to keep your eyes open as she cooed to you how much of a perfect slut you were for them. You mumbled a protest when you were manoeuvred onto your back on the bed, finally opening your eyes to see Wanda leaning over you with a deranged look upon her face and shimmering knife in hand. “I know,” she said softly when your eyes widened in fear and tried to move your spent frame. “It’s scary, but you knew this bit would happen,” she continued, stroking your face as she dug the knife under your chin.
Carol and Wanda appeared at her side and you finally saw Natasha smile. She was smug, they all were. They had won. “Thank you for this, baby,” Wanda said, raising her dagger above her head. “You’ll look beautiful with our knives in you.”
Then she struck.
#dark!marvel#marvel#gxg marvel#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow#dark!fic#wandanat#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#carol danvers x reader#carol danvers#carol danvers smut#wanda maximoff smut#natasha romanoff smut#dark!natasha romanoff#dark!wanda maximoff#dark!carol danvers#dark!wandanat#wandanatcarol#dark!wandanatcarol
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TOKE 'N STROKE
"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"
He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.
Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.
Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"
He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"
Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."
Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"
"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.
"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.
A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"
After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.
"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.
Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...
...
When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.
When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.
"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.
Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"
After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."
*PHRRRBBBTTT!*
His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.
"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.
"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.
"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.
Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"
"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.
Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."
Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"
*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*
Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.
As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.
"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.
Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.
#gay to straight tf#lib to con#gay to straight#bro tf#farts#fart kink#dumb jock#dumbing down#brainwashing#corruption kink#gamer tf#trashy tf#male transformation#transformation#transformation story#gross tf#g2s#male tf story#permanent tf#stoner tf#jock tf#male tf
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little repost
The dracula case.
Richard Chase , aka The Vampire of Sacramento.
He was nicknamed this, as he drank the blood of his victims and cannibalized their remains. Everyone in his life knew he was mentally ill, even his own mother! Please proceed at your own risk, as this case mentions children, the dismemberment of people, etc. It may be a little bad, this is my second time making this type of post!
Richard Trenton Chase was born on May 23rd in 1950, he was an American spree killer who murdered six people in Sacramento, California. He was allegedly abused by his mother whilst growing up, though his father also physically disciplined him but that was usual for the time. By the age of 10, he already checked out for the MacDonald triad, which is bed wetting, animal torture and fire setting. Chase realized very young about his dark urges, though not ever being able to be in with a girl due to his impotence, he in adolescence then became an alcoholic with a chronic drug problem. Chase, keep in mind, was a paranoid schizophrenic, moving out from his mother because he personally believed his mother was trying to poison him. He moved in with a couple friends, they often complained that he smelt of weed, though he never cared, paying no attention to guests, walking around naked, they eventually got tired of him, telling him to move out. But he refused, so they moved out instead.
Whilst alone, he began to torture animals, he would dismember these animals, making them into milkshakes blended into cola. He had a belief that his heart was shrinking, that it wasn't beating correctly since his childhood, he believed consuming blood and the animal remains would help him from not dying.
In 1975, he was institutionalized due to his blood poisoning from injecting animal blood into his veins. He scared the patients horribly, even the nurses, they gave him the nickname "Dracula", being described as awfully bizarre. He was then prescribed medication, being taken out from the ward in 1976 after being deemed safe (My god, were they wrong.) Anyways, he was placed in the care of his mother. His mother, the cruel woman she was, got tired of her son, kicking him practically out, forbidding him to take his anti psychotic medication, claiming that it made him boring, dulling his personality, like a zombie, even though advised not to by the doctors. So she instead got him his own apartment. When he got his own apartment, he began to eat dogs and birds, hanging them up. Chase's neighbor, said she saw cats and dogs enter the apartment then never go out, so she never knew what happened to them, though she could have reported it, as it was not allowed for them to have animals.
The killings
He used a .22 Automatic handgun to kill his victims, first was a drive-by shooting, then the rest were home invasions. After shooting his victims, he would mutilate, drinking the blood, he would engage within necrophilia with female victims only. The victims include : An unidentified woman ( Shot, but missed ) Ambrose Griffin, 51 ( Shot in the chest. ) An unidentified boy, 12 ( Shot, missed. ) Teresa, 22 ( Shot twice in the head, then once in the hand! She was repeatedly stabbed, her organs removed, cut off her nipples, forcing her to eat dog feces, partially eaten at. Also necrophilia was done to her body, three months pregnant. ) Daniel Meredith, 51 ( Shot, then mutilated. ) Evelyn Miroth, 38 ( Slashed throat, shot, disemboweled, partially eaten, failed to take out one of her eyes, engaged in necrophilia. ) Jason 6, ( Shot, then brutally mutilated once dead. ) David 1, ( Shot, eaten partially and mutilated. )
Facts
In 1977, Chase was arrested in Lake Tahoe, he had a bucket of blood, also guns in his car. He managed to convince an officer it was just from an animal, so there was no report made. ( He claimed it was cows blood, specifically. ) Witnesses saw him with a dog once, though the dog was never recovered so they truly never saw it again, so they never knew what happened to it, this is the same time the lake incident had happened. He had delusions of an alien force, and insisted he only ate humans because the outside forces were going to steal his blood! He thought his heart was shrinking as I mentioned, so ingesting blood also helped him from not dying. He had schizophrenia noticeable in his childhood, but it worsened throughout when he got older. He had a stable life at 20, but it crumbled. He then got into the ward, though he had killed one before, his mother insisted and weared him off his medication, making him go onto a whole spree. He also had hypochondria. Neighbors heard him shooting at the walls, he claimed it was the voices he had heard. He lied about his mental illnesses, so he could get his weapon of choice, it happened after he had purchased it. He killed small puppies, trying to steal a large dog, but luckily, he failed. His sister was afraid of him. In prison, he spoke about ufos and nazis, being afraid of them, wanting to get a gun to protect himself, he also claimed to be jewish, drawing the star of david on his forehead. He believed the prison leagues were in contact with the Nazis, trying to kill him with the food. He was sentenced to death by , but instead, at 11:05 am, December 26th, 1980, he killed himself from an overdose when he was hoarding his medication. The reasons truly were unknown. more may be added later! I hope you enjoyed. :)
#richard chase#the dracula chase#tccblr#teeceecee#tcc fandom#true cringe community#mass killers#tc community#tcc tumblr#andrew blaze#egs#eric columbine#eric and dylan#dylannstormroof#dylan columbine#tcc columbine#extra tags for reach
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Weed Control Ltd Launches Professional Weed Removal Service
Weed Control Ltd is excited to announce the launch of our new professional weed removal service. We understand the frustration that comes with dealing with invasive weeds that can ruin the look and health of your lawn and garden. Our team of experts is here to provide effective and affordable weed removal services to tackle these pesky plants. Whether you need weed killing near me or invasive weed kill, we've got you covered.
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OVERGROWN INVASIVE WEEDS UNEARTH THE ROOTS AND KILL THE SEEDS
LAID TO REST, YOU'LL NEVER SEE IT THROUGH
SO EAT YOUR FRIENDS, THEY'LL UNDERSTAND
'CAUSE THEY WOULD TOO
#oc#furry#furry art#dragon#self#control#salad#atlas#ive been listening to a lot of jhariah recentlyy this song makes me crasyy#i haddd to draw something control to a jhariah song like for my health and this just fit so well#maybe 1 day i will talk about How this song fits us but not right noww#mostly because this is a scheduled post. LOL#favorites#stacksart
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All this tells me is that one day I will be tried as a war criminal
The thought of scientists dropping plants 60 times and comparing their reactions to when you shake them is hilarious
#I have tried very hard and failed spectacularly#the plant I had the longest was a succulent that I'm honestly surprised lived as long as it did#forgot to water it until it nearly died MULTIPLE TIMES#my roommate's cat regularly pulled the tiny thing out of its pot because she was unhappy that one spot on one window was blocked to her#I knocked it over and spilled all the soil in it but my ADHD self forgot to put in more for and EMBARRASSING amount of time#it still lives because I gave it to a friend after it went through years of torture#I did well veg/fruit gardening with my family but killed everything I glanced at on my own (except for mint and it was an invasive weed!)#none of my plants got a quick death and often lived for a good while... somehow#funny part is I actually tried! did research and everything#reminds me of the time my papaw sat preschool me down on the seat of his tractor and I somehow got it started and driving through the garden#mind you he TRIED to grab me but I had the thing going at full tilt and just noomed off like I had places to be#mind you it had attachments on it so I chopped up a quarter acre garden before stopping by running up a tree#and when I say up I mean the thing rammed hard enough to go past 45° angle and everybody thought it was gonna flip!#haven’t seen the pic since I was in grade school so I could be exaggerating using what they said happened but man#til this day I'm not 100% sure how I did that...#wikipedia#article#info#plants
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spotted lanternflies, Lycorma delicatula. an infamous invasive in my area, but I’ve come to enjoy these clumsy little freaks more than I ever thought I would.
people are oddly obsessed with destroying them still, although the effect of killing them by hand or even with pesticides is negligible on the now-well-established populations. this is more of a “stop the spread” problem than it is “get rid of established populations,” and it’s people who don’t usually see these who should be on the highest alert for them. still, it’s interesting how their conspicuity, diurnality, and generally slow speed has made them the perfect thing for humans to kill thoughtlessly while other pests stay hidden, like emerald ash borers, or are undeservedly beloved, like honeybees, most of the eastern mantises, and feral cats.
the kill-on-sight campaigns area little depressing to me, especially when directed towards children —sure, they teach invasive species awareness, but really it’s just feeding an ugly desire to kill little animals. not going to ask you to not control them if they’re causing damage to your plants, but the weird bloodthirsty attitude towards Lycorma and declarations of their “evil” nature don’t seem terribly productive. they are as blameless as any invasive species. even when invasives must be killed by the individual (works for some species, not all!), there is still room to act thoughtfully and not demonize an animal for being an animal.
so personally, I let the lanternflies chill—for the most part, they feed on invasive weeds and nonnative ornamental plants, so they’re not much of a concern to me or my garden. whatever proper control methods (parasitoids, pathogens?) get developed probably won’t eliminate all of them, too, so big dumb fulgorids are probably a permanent fixture here. ah, I still feed them to mantises, but the only ones big enough are also invasive…
here’s one all tender and pale after molting. I’d like to find a teneral adult this year, which must be stunning
a good post on the topic of killing invasive species by @bowelfly :
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patience is a virtue
part 3 to invasion of privacy series
pairing: roommate!heeseung x afab reader
genre: smut, angst, minimal fluff (minors dni)
warnings: unprotected sex (be safe), use of the pull out method (do not do this), piv, tit sucking, nipple play, mutual masturbation, some indecent public acts, mentions of vomit, alcolohol consumption, heeseung is so bad at communicating it is actually physically painful, jake is still annoying and hoon is a film bro oh god
word count: 8.6k
a/n: pls don't gut me ik this took forever but i hope its worth it at least lawl enjoy yourselves (but not too much......) also someone needs to take ellipses away from me. also not proofread
read part 1 and part 2 first or else this won't make a ton of sense
[shithead]: you guys wanna come to the cave to play smash? i got some more of that indica and jay finally cleaned his bong 🙄
[grandfather]: come on dude it wasn’t even that dirty
[cullen tease]:..... no comment
[cullen tease]: but yea i’m down
[grandfather]: what about heeseung?
[shithead]: idk… it’s just been radio silence from him for like 3 days
[cullen tease]: yea what happened to him?
[grandfather]: well the last time we talked to him was right before he hung out with y/n sooo
[shithead]: no way
[shithead]: do you think she fucked him so hard he passed out for three whole days?
[cullen tease]: shut the fuck up jaeyun
[shithead]: i’m just saying!!! if i had a hot roommate like that i would gladly let her destroy me
[cullen tease]: that’s because you’re a man whore
[grandfather]: come on guys cut it out, you know how heeseung tends to get
[grandfather]: emotional
[cullen tease]: that’s the understatement of the year
[shithead]: wait what if…….
[shithead]: she killed him
[grandfather]: you’re an idiot
[shithead]: it’s a possibility! what if it’s like a jennifer’s body type situation
[cullen tease]: hold up, you’ve seen jennifer’s body?
[shithead]: duh… it has megan fox in it
[grandfather]: okay let's not stray from the situation at hand
[shithead]: wait hoon why is it so surprising that i’ve seen jennifer’s body?
[cullen tease]: i just didn’t peg you as the type of guy to enjoy films like that
[shithead]: what the fuck does that mean
[grandfather]: guys
[cullen tease]: dude come on, your favourite movie is grown ups 2
[shithead]: what’s wrong with grown ups 2?
[cullen tease]: what’s wrong with it is that it’s trash
[shithead]: are you fr? it is a cinematic masterpiece and i don’t appreciate you acting all high and mighty because you’re a fucking film major who likes boring and sad movies like the godfather or whatever
[grandfather]: can you two shut the fuck up? we need to figure out what’s going on with hee
[adult virgin]: i’m not dead
[cullen tease]: heeseung!
[grandfather]: heeseung!
[shithead]: heeseung! you’re alive!!!
[grandfather]: how you doin’ buddy?
[shithead]: yea what went down with you and sexy roomie at the drive-in? i just know the two of you got up to some freaky shit
[grandfather]: jaeyun i swear to god
[adult virgin]: i don’t wanna talk about it
[cullen tease]: uh oh
[shithead]: oh shit
[grandfather]: oh jeez
[shithead]: jay you question why we call you grandfather when you say shit like ‘oh jeez’
[grandfather]: now’s not the time jake
[cullen tease]: come on heeseung, i’m sure it wasn’t that bad
[adult virgin]: i’m never going on a date again
[shithead]: wait i thought you said it wasn’t a date???
[grandfather]: jake you are one text away from getting kicked out of this group chat
[cullen tease]: i say we kick him out now
[adult virgin]: can you guys please stop blowing up my phone?
[shithead]: no can do my friend
[shithead]: it’s time for an intervention
[adult virgin]: i’m good
[adult virgin]: the last thing i need right now is you guys screaming at me while i’m trying to cope
[shithead]: too late, jay’s already got the car running. i’m bringing weed!
[cullen tease]: i’ll bring the funyuns
[shithead]: see you soon hee!
[adult virgin]: guys fr i just wanna be alone
[adult virgin]: guys?
bang bang bang!!!
heeseung recoils when he hears his friends banging on his front door a mere 11 minutes after they said they were coming; a mere 11 minutes after he explicitly told them not to. he recoils even more when he hears you open the door for them.
“oh, hey y/n…” jay does nothing to try to hide his discontent when he sees you open the door and not his heartbroken friend.
jake, who’s lowkey wanted to bang you since heeseung first moved in with you, pays no mind to his friend's wariness and envelops you in a rib-crushing hug whilst shouting “i haven’t seen you in forever!!!!!”
“hey guys!” you say with a soft smile before patting jake on the shoulder in an attempt to let him know that he’s stealing all of your oxygen, “come in, can i get you anything?”
jay just scoffs, “no thanks y/n, we don’t need anything from you.”
a somewhat puzzled look makes its way onto your face, “ok… well heeseungs in his room if that’s what you’re here for.” you nonchalantly motion down the hall before returning to the kitchen, leaving the three boys alone in the foyer.
“damn jay, you could’ve been a little nicer. we still don’t know what even went down between them, remember?” sunghoon murmurs while leading the way to heeseungs bedroom.
“i guess we’re about to find out,” jay holds his breath before tentatively knocking on heeseungs door before opening it and stepping inside.
when heeseung sees his friends open his door and step into his room, he rolls over so his back is facing them. he thought he was very clear that he is not in the mood to talk. nevertheless, the three of them stride into his room like a boy band and close the door behind them. heeseung hopes they pay no mind to the piles and piles of bunched up kleenex littering his room that are all shrivelled up from his tears.
“heeeyyy buddy!” jay croons to his dishevelled friend as if he’s talking to a puppy or small child.
“damnnnn hee, that must’ve been some good pussy if it’s got you acting like this!!!” jake exclaims, which earns him an elbow in the ribs.
“didn’t i tell you guys not to come? i’m trying to latibulate in peace,” heeseung groans, his voice so monotonous and strained it sounds almost robotic.
“come on, you didn’t seriously think we were gonna listen to you, right?” sunghoon says matter-of-factly, his ebony bangs covering his eyes and making him look eerily mysterious.
heeseung just sighs. he feels his mattress shift underneath him and looks over to see that jay has taken a seat on the edge of his bed, his eyes full of what appears to be mostly concern, some disgust as he swipes a couple of dirty tissues onto the floor (he tries to cover this up with a crooked smile).
“sooo what happened?” jake breaks the silence and asks the question that’s sitting on the tip of everyone’s tongue. heeseung, now in a seated position, places his head between his knees and does his best to swallow his shame before retelling the event that took place a few days prior.
“well, we went to the drive-in…” he starts, voice muffled due to his head hanging low, “and at first it was fine, but then… an… intimate scene came on.”
sunghoon hangs his head at this, seemingly knowing where the story is going.
heeseung can’t bare to look at his friends faces as he proceeds, his cheeks ablaze with embarrassment as he recounts his unintentional virginity reveal, the two of you freaking it whilst surrounded by other movie goers, and the painful, painful silence that enveloped him for the rest of the night.
“and then she just… didn’t say anything. why the fuck didn’t she say anything???!!!!” he whines, his tone a complete 180 from what it was when he first spoke to his friends a short 3 minutes ago.
seemingly at a loss for words, jay just rests his hand on his friends shoulder, offering a gentle pat while sunghoon mumbles a quiet but heart-felt ‘beats me’ from where he’s leaning against heeseungs wall.
“females are so difficult to understand.”
“don’t say females jake, it makes you sound like an incel,” sunghoon suspires, the frayed ends of his hair fluttering in the process, “maybe she just thought you wanted to get it over with? or that you wanted something casual?”
“i don’t do casual.”
“okay, and how the fuck is she supposed to know that?” sunghoon retorts, defending you since you’re unable to defend yourself - jake subtly nods in agreeance.
“i don’t know! she’s way more emotionally intelligent than all of us combined so i thought that maybe she’d… pick up on it or something.” heeseung feels his energy depleting and he longs to simply curl up under his duvet and sleep the rest of the day away - or maybe the whole week actually.
“heeseung,” jay sympathizes, “we know you like y/n… but maybe it's just not gonna work out.”
jake interjects, “yea, and if she can’t see what an absolute package you are right now then maybe she never will! it’s her loss really,” he nods enthusiastically while looking at jay and sunghoon, prompting them to do the same - they do.
heeseung, with swollen cheeks and a bruised heart, can only offer a quiet “thanks guys” while wishing for the tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes to go away. he knows that moving on from you, whilst being extremely difficult, is the best thing to do.
after heeseungs feeble thanks, the room falls silent. so silent only that the hum of the a/c is the only detectable sound - that, and the steady inhales and exhales of the 4 boys trapped in heeseungs stuffy bedroom. someone exhales before the shuffling of feet and the creaking of floorboards can be heard. heeseung hardly has any time to react before something (or someone?) is flying through the air and is on track to land directly on top of him.
“DOG PILE ON HEESEUNG!!!” jake shouts while full-on launching himself onto heeseungs body, effectively squashing him into his mattress. the weight of his friend knocks the wind out of him and heeseung barely manages to croak “jaeyun what the fuc-” before the weight is doubled, then tripled as sunghoon and jay follow suit.
it’s hard to tell whose limbs belong to who as heeseungs friends tussle his hair and squeeze his cheeks (and crush his rib cage, but that’s besides the point) in an attempt to get their glum, heartbroken friend to cheer up. and, for the first time in days, a smile appears on heeseungs face.
order confirmed. you will be updated when your food is en route for delivery.
as if on cue, heeseung’s stomach lets out a cavernous growl. he pats it comfortingly as if to say ‘it’s ok, soon you’ll be filled to the brim with an ice cold baja blast and 2 crunch wrap supremes. just hold on a little longer.’
nothing quite like eating away all of your sorrows.
it’s easy to forget how pivotal a kitchen is in one’s everyday life until it’s stripped away from you like a baby from its mother. ok, maybe not stripped away. more like consciously avoiding it to make sure that you don’t have an awkward run in with your roommate who performed oral sex on you several days ago and is now sending you mixed signals. the thought of having to hold an actual conversation with you makes heeseungs skin crawl.
he’s been successfully avoiding you for 4 days now, ensuring that he only leaves his room when absolutely necessary - and only doing so when he’s positive that you’re in your room or out of the house. before exiting his bedroom he spends minutes with his ear pressed up to his flimsy bedroom door, making sure the coast is clear before making a break for it.
one may think he’s being extra. just talk to her for crying out loud! but heeseung has managed to convince himself that you think he’s bottom of the barrel scum; the last piece of bread that always gets tossed; the mosquito on your wall that you whack with a rolled up newspaper as soon as you see it.
trash!
and so, he spends his days rotting away in his bedroom, his mattress now donning a permanent indent of the shape of his body; his trash can overflowing with wrappers from taco bell and mcdonalds; his laptop struggling to keep up with all of the mind-numbing streaming of shitty television he’s been doing.
one time he gave into his hopeless romantic side and watched the notebook but it made him cry so hard he woke up with a migraine. another time he got an ad for top gun: maverick and he wanted to die. stupid top gun. stupid tom cruise. stupid miles teller with his stupid moustache. now, he sticks to scrolling through tik tok and watching reruns of below deck sailing yacht and survivor.
he can feel his eyes starting to get heavy when a vibration from his phone jolts him back to reality, scrambling to find the device that he so mindlessly tossed underneath his comforter. his fingers finally come in contact with it, and he peers at the lit-up screen.
your food has been delivered. receipt/tip available.
yes! it feels as if his stomach has been quite literally eating itself for the past half hour, so heeseung leaps up at the prospect of soon having food in his belly. in fact he’s so excited at the idea of his taco bell order waiting for him that the thought of doing his ritualistic check to make sure he won’t have a run-in with you completely slips his mind.
so, when he swings open his door and bolts down the hallway, head filled with nothing but thoughts of chowing down on a tortilla filled with meat, lettuce and cheese, his heart practically falls to his stomach when instead he almost literally runs into you. you, holding a glass of water with your eyes wide like a fawn, taking in heeseungs dishevelled appearance after not seeing him for over half a week.
shit.
shitshitshitshitshitshit.
this was not supposed to happen.
“heeseung!” you say with enthusiasm (and a bit of concern).
it is in this very moment that heeseung fully understands what a deer must feel like when falling in front of the headlights of an oncoming vehicle - frozen.
“uh…. heeey y/n.” his throat feels like it’s about to close. is he having an allergic reaction to you?
seeing as plan a (get his food and go back to his room while avoiding you all together) has fallen through, he attempts to resort to plan b: grab taco bell bag and run like hell back to the safety of his bedroom.
unfortunately plan b also falls through, for once he worms himself to the front door and grabs the slightly warm paper bag and drink left on his porch he whips around only to see you standing in front of him, blocking his path to the safe haven that is his musty bedroom, (he’s reminded of admiral ackbar in episode vi of star wars - ‘it’s a trap!!!’).
“wait, can we talk?” your face is one of disquietude, “i feel like you’ve been… avoiding me.”
upon hearing your concerns, heeseung does what he’s best at - playing dumb.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
your face quickly changes, brows furrowed and eyes slightly squinted as if to say ‘are you shitting me?’. in a split second it seems as if you’re able to read heeseung like an open book, much to his dismay, before you open your mouth to speak again.
“did… did what i do at the drive-in make you uncomfortable?”
“no…” more like what you didn’t do - profess your undying love and devotion to him with tears in your eyes while he reassures you that he feels the same way and the two of you ride off into the sunset on a horse and start a new life in venice or kyoto or somewhere romantic and secluded.
“okay, so then why are you acting so weird?”
“i’m… stressed. sooo stressed. classes are killing me and i have a huge paper due soon.” liar. he’s excelling in all of his classes and doesn’t have anything due for another 5 days.
“oh, well what’s it about? maybe i can help you!” you offer while taking a step towards him. usually his heart would be leaping at the prospect of the two of you having some one on one time even if it is for a class, but right now that’s the last thing he needs.
“it’s about….. shakespeare.”
“shakespeare? i thought you were an engineering major-”
“it’s an elective. i’m very interested in classical literature.” no he’s not.
“oh, nice. hey why are you talking so weirdly? you sound like siri when i ask her a question.”
that’s it. he needs to get out of this conversation before he raises any more suspicion.
“i’m way deep into the academic headspace. speaking of,” he motions towards his bedroom door with his index finger, “i need to get back to work.” more like he needs to wallow in his own self-pity.
“wait, can we talk more? i still feel like you’re not telling me something,” you say while looking like a kicked puppy, and heeseung tries to not fall into your glassy, pleading gaze.
“it’s fine y/n, i get it.” he thinks you’re the light of his life and you think of him as your loser roommate who was all whiny about being a virgin so you did what you needed to do to shut him up. case closed.
“get… what?”
heeseung doesn’t respond, doesn’t give you the time of day. he simply exits the kitchen and closes his bedroom door behind him. he spares no final glance behind him because he knows the sight of you standing there with a hurt and perplexed look on your face will have him crawling back to you on his hands and knees.
instead, he shuffles into bed and tries to focus on whatever he was watching on his laptop prior to the most painful conversation he’s ever had in his entire life, his now tepid crunch wrap sitting in his limp grasp.
salty crocodile tears start rolling down his cheeks for the nth time this week.
“i am gonna get sooo many bitches tonight.”
“you shouldn’t call women bitches jake, that’s rude.”
pre-gaming in the cave before going out is a must. the four guys play a couple rounds of pong and flip cup while jay and jake chug putrid pilsner’s and pabst blue ribbons while sunghoon and heeseung opt for a much more tame rum and coke.
tonight he’s being dragged to a place he seldom ventures: a club.
heeseung doesn’t really like clubs.
he prefers bars where he can sit and drink and talk to his friends instead of clubs where he has to (attempt to) dance and drink and shout over the blasting music to communicate with anyone. alas, jake was adamant on going to this one particular place downtown where apparently he got with 3 different girls in one night (everyone knows that’s definitely not true, but they continue to humour him).
furthermore, his friends have decided that the financial blow of cover fees and shots at a club is worth getting heeseung up and out of his frowsty bedroom that has somewhat turned into something you would see on an episode of hoarders, so tonight’s outing will be free (for him at least).
“okay hee,” jake grabs his friend by the shoulders and shakes him aggressively, as if they’re two football players about to head onto the field, “gimme the game plan for tonight broski.”
“i’m gonna forget about y/n, and i’m gonna find a pretty girl,” heeseung says in the most sportsmanlike manner he can conjure up, “and i’m gonna fu…… i’m gonna make love to her.”
jake simply shakes his head in dismay, “no heeseung, you’re gonna fuck her. got it? go ahead, say it.”
“i’m gonna…” his neck feels like it’s flaring up, “i can’t say it, it feels rude and misogynistic.”
“dude, girls like to get fucked. they think it’s hot!!! now say ‘fuck’,” jake attests before staring at heeseung expectantly.
“okay………………. fuck.”
“hell yea bro! fuck!” jay joins in while clapping heeseung on the back in support.
“yea, fuck!!!”
“FUCK!!!!!!” sunghoon joins as well.
“FUUUUUUCK!!!” heeseung screams. the liquor in his bloodstream, while not copious, is making him feel fuzzy.
and finally, jake closes it out with, “LETS GO FUCK SHIT UP BROS!!!!!!” before storming out of the door with sunghoon following suit.
jay swings a beefy arm around heeseungs blocky shoulders and drags him along, the two of them soon catching up to hoon and jake who are whooping and hollering about god knows what. in the back of heeseungs mind he wonders what he’s gotten himself into.
immediately upon arrival heeseung is reminded once again of his detestment for clubs. they’re too loud and ho, and impersonal.
the floors and walls are shaking with some throwback early 2000’s pop song and after about 10 seconds the soles of his shoes are already covered in sticky syrup from spilled drinks. he follows his friends into the sea of people trying to get drunk or trying to get laid or both.
in the midst of the crowd he brushes shoulders with a guy he swears he’s seen before, a tall brute guy with blonde hair tied into a man bun and a red flannel hugging his shoulders (who wears a flannel to a club?), but he can’t quite remember when and where they’ve crossed paths before.
as sunghoon shoulders his way to the bar to order a round of tequila shots, heeseung stays planted to his spot on the floor, his eyes scanning his surroundings and taking everything in to the best of his abilities considering that purple and blue LED lights are painting everyone and everything within the establishment.
his eyes make their way from the bar to the dance floor to a section of stand-up tables, where he finds a pretty girl in leather pants and a cheetah print corset top staring right back at him. when their gaze’s connect she flashes him a small smile, which he returns.
“jake,” heeseung smacks his friend’s shoulder, “that girl won’t stop staring at me.”
“see hee! we told you you’d pull someone.”
he smirks, then panics, “what should i do?”
“what’s going on?” sunghoon turns around with four shooters balanced between his spindly ple fingers, each one filled with a menacing clear liquor that will ultimately decide his fate this evening. you’re not you when you’re sober but you’re you when you’re drunk!
jake grabs a shot greedily, like a leprechaun stumbling upon a pot of gold, “some chick is ogling at hee.”
sunghoon’s lip curls upwards, “lets go dawg!” he cheers while passing heeseung a shot as if it's a reward for receiving attention from a woman.
heeseung stares at the tequila in the glass he’s holding with his thumb and index finger; it stares back at him. in one swift move he downs it, then does the same with jake’s, jay’s, and finally sunghoon’s, who all stare at him in disbelief. he tries his best to not make a sour face, but he can’t hold back the deep cough that leaps out of him as the tequila burns his throat on its way down his esophagus and into his stomach.
“wow, okay.” jay says in astonishment, which prompts him to start laughing; everyone else begins to laugh as well, including heeseung.
“go talk to her shithead!” jake exclaims while shoving heeseung towards the mystery girl and her friends with much more force than necessary, making him stumble over his own feet much like bambi attempting to walk for the first time.
when he’s close enough he flashes her a toothy grin, his eyes trained on hers; her pupils look like deep pools of ink in the scarcity of good lighting. she just looks at him, a pretty smile painted on her face that pushes the apples of her cheeks to the sky.
“hey.”
“hi~”
“i’m heeseung.”
“okay heeseung, wanna dance?”
“uh sure!” he exclaims, albeit maybe a little too much excitement in his inflection.
the cheetah girl doesn’t say anything, just grabs his hand by the wrist (and thank god his wrist because his palms are embarrassingly sweaty) and drags him in the general direction of the dance floor. before he becomes completely swallowed by the mass of swaying bodies, he catches sunghoon and jay giving him a thumbs up from across the room - jake is too busy making out with someone to do the same.
heeseung feels the fabric of his shirt sticking to his chest and lower back as he gets mixed up with the plethora of other sweaty bodies, trying to move in a sensual yet confident way that hopefully impresses the pretty girl he’s praying he’ll go home with. with his nose tucked into the crook of her neck he rocks his body against hers to the beat of the music, his pelvis bumping against her ass methodically.
“you’re so cute!” she squeals at his awkward attempt to grind up on her.
dear god. when oh when will he ever the patronizing, dehumanizing, emasculating label of ‘cute’? cute is what you say when you see a nest of baby bunnies, or an elderly couple on a date. heeseung is a grown man, he should be called handsome, statuesque, sexy even!!!
nevertheless, heeseung attempts to not let cheetah girl’s comment sour his mood. she’ll see how manly he really is, he’ll show her. in fact he’ll show her right now!
in this very moment he discovers why alcohol has been gifted the name of liquid courage since before he can even process what he’s doing he’s pulling cheetah girl out of the stuffy crowd of inebriated club goers, dragging her to an empty bathroom stall, and placing his tequila coated lips on hers.
she immediately reciprocates, because why else would she be giving him bedroom eyes across a crowded club if she didn’t want something along this vein to occur? despite being a virgin (? does getting your dick suck count as a loss of virginity?), he has made out with multiple girls on multiple different occasions prior to this one, so he lets his mouth and tongue and hands act on their own accord.
it feels as if his brain is swimming inside of his skull, making all of his senses blurred and fuzzy like tv static. he feels a pair of teeth sinking into his bottom teeth and he groans, his eyes squeezing shut impossibly tighter and his fingers digging into cheetah girl’s hips. she emits and airy moan in response, allowing heeseung to slot his tongue against hers - he tastes the vodka mixed with cranberry juice she was drinking when he approached her on the inside of her mouth.
the tip of his nose continuously bumps against hers as he sloppy sucks on her tongue and her teeth, his lips soon detaching to make their way across her jaw and down her neck. there he sinks his canines into her skin, causing her to hiss in both pleasure and pain before exhaling blissfully, her hot breath fanning across heeseung face as he reverts to kissing her on the mouth once again.
from the dj booth he hears the intro of a song that has his eyes shooting open - baby one more time by britney spears. the song that you alway play when you’re getting ready to go out, the song he chose to play during the car ride to the drive-in. he feels a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about the way you touched him that night, the way you wrapped your hand and lips around his cock without a second thought. his jaw slacks and his hands fall to his sides as his brain starts to move at a million miles per hour.
a mouth that’s not yours is pressed against his while a tongue that’s not yours slips inside and traces his teeth. heeseung can hear his pulse in his ears beating faster than the bass that vibrates the floors and the walls and the ceiling of the club that he now so desperately wishes he wasn’t in. a hand that isn’t yours pops the button of his jeans and slips past the waistband of his underwear. all he can think is how this feels so not… right. none of this is right!
without properly thinking he somewhat shoves the pretty but unknown girl off of him, prompting her to shout “what the fuck asshole??!!?” before storming out of the stall and off to find her friends to undoubtedly complain about what a selfish prick he is. but honestly, he doesn’t care. all he can think about is you and your touch and everything you encompass.
with a considerable amount of shoving heeseung makes his way outside, paying no mind to the select people that shoot him dirty looks after getting elbowed in the side. too inebriated to consider ordering an uber or calling a cab, he begins the 20 minute trek back to his apartment where he’s praying that you’re still residing, likely settled in your bed reading a book or watching season 2 of the bear. the cool night air stings his lungs as he trips and stumbles on the concrete with every other step he takes on his way back home, his way back to you.
being outside does absolutely nothing to sober heeseung up (especially considering that he downed 4 tequila shots not so long ago), and when the familiar front door of your shared rental house comes into view he practically runs to it, swinging it open and letting it bang against the wall before calling your name and jogging down the hallway. his shoes clomp against the hardwood floors as he approaches your door, the soft yellow glow emanating from underneath it the only source of light in the dark hallway.
“y/n?” heeseung barges into your bedroom, almost ripping your door off of its hinges in the process. once inside he sees you perched on your bed, your sheets pulled over your bent knees and a book with a splotchy blue cover in your grasp.
“what are you doing?” he questions you breathlessly.
your glance shifts from heeseung to the open book in your hands then back to heeseung, “reading?”
“oh, duh,” he pretends to facepalm while chuckling, your eyes still trained on his with a glint of scepticism. the gravity of his situation starts to dawn on him and he braces himself against your doorframe in an attempt to get the floor to stop spinning.
you furrow your brows and stare at heeseung pointedly, “are you drunk?”
“a little,” he hiccups, “actually a lot, but that’s besides the point.” finally he feels the courage he had 20 minutes ago at the club surge through him once more and he stumbles into your room, stopping at the corner of your bed and gazing down on you like you’re an ant.
“i have to tell you something.”
“okay.”
silence.
“...what do you wanna tell me?”
“oh, right.” come on heeseung, it’s now or never. he decides to take a seat on the edge of your bed so he’s looking directly at you, and he picks at the holes in his jeans as he ponders how to start.
“uhh… i really like the way you fold the dish towels in the kitchen.”
a look of shock makes its way onto your face - you definitely weren’t expecting him to say that of all things. before you can utter a word, a sound even, heeseung starts to ramble.
“and you smell really nice. like, really nice. and i think you’re really pretty, e-even when you’re angry, like when i wake you up to ask for a ride to campus when i’ve missed the bus. and i like how you chew on the inside of your cheek when you’re focused, and how you ruffle my hair when i say something stupid… which is a lot.”
he pauses briefly to catch his breath, then continues on, “and i don’t let anyone eat my lucky charms except for you, n-not even my friends when they spend the night, because i know they remind you of being a kid and that you like to pick out the clover shaped marshmallows. and i like the way you draw smiley faces in the condensation on the mirror in the bathroom after you shower, and the way you exclusively listen to stevie nicks when you’re cleaning, an-”
“heeseung,” you interject, causing him to draw in a shaky inhale, “what are you trying to say?”
“what i’m trying to say is that i lo-” nope!!!!!! waaay too soon. luckily even drunk heeseung can recognize the damage an actual profession of love would cause. thank god he caught himself.
“i really really like you, ok? and i feel like you just see me as a-” here come the waterworks, “as a looooserrrrrrrr,” try as he might, heeseung can’t stop the pathetic, drunken sobs that escape his trembling lips.
“oh god, heeseung-” your feeble voice does little to drown out the wails emanating from the drunken boy perched on the corner of your bed, his hair a mess and his cheeks flushed pink; you’re unsure if it’s from the alcohol or the crying.
half a week of pent up confusion and sadness and heartbreak escapes him in the form of reverberating howls, his shoulders shaking even after you place a comforting hand on his back in an attempt to calm him down.
“and when you did… that at the drive-in, i thought that maybe meant that you liked me too.” he sniffles before wiping his nose with his sleeve; you reach over to your night stand and hand him a tissue.
“oh jesus, i’m so sorry hee i didn’t mean to confuse you i just-” you take a second to collect your thoughts, your thumb still caressing heeseungs backs through his shirt, “the way you were talking just made it seem like you just wanted to get it over with,” your hand doesn’t leave his back, “like, no strings attached, you know?”
“no… not no strings attached. i want strings attached. i want exclusivity. i want you.” his tears roll down to his mouth and he can taste the salt on his tongue.
“heeseung…” you all but whisper, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.
he wants to say more, only when he tries to formulate his thoughts into words, he finds himself yaking all over your floor before passing out.
pain.
the first thing heeseung feels when he wakes up is pain.
not mental pain, which is what he’s felt for the past 5 days, but physical pain. an aching headache that shoots up from the base of his skull and wraps around to his forehead and flares at the back of his eyeballs. it’s settled, he is never touching alcohol ever again.
an acidic burn tickles his throat, and soon the memories from last night come flooding back to him. the cheetah girl at the club, the solemn and unsobering walk home, the drunken confession, and lastly, the puking.
he cracks his eyes open and immediately recoils, for the golden glow of the morning sun increases the aching in his head and behind his eyes tenfold. jesus, what time is it? a couple of blinks help his eyes adjust to the light, and he becomes aware of the figure sitting to the right of him. in a split second he soon realizes that he’s in your room, tucked under your sheets, inhaling the scent of your shampoo that’s become permanently woven into your pillows.
oh? oh. oh god. did you two….?
heeseungs restlessness draws your attention, and soon you're gazing down at him with a soft expression that makes heeseung feel all soft like honey.
“hey sleeping beauty.” you tease, your eyes still puffy with traces of sleep and the book you were reading before he oh so rudely interrupted you last night is in your hands again - a well-loved copy of murakami’s kafka on the shore, which you place on your nightstand for the sake of passing heeseung a tall glass of water and an advil. he downs both immediately.
“please tell me that the image i have of myself puking on your floor is something my brain conjured up while i was sleeping and not something that actually happened,” he rasps, throat stinging and nose stuffy.
“hate to break it to ya buddy,” you tsk while nodding sympathetically, “but that actually happened.”
heeseung shoves his head into your pillow, his thumbs pressing against his closed eyelids both in an attempt to relieve the ache and as an act of shame. he groans aloud, “oh god y/n i am so sorry, i-”
“heeseung it’s o-kay,” you punctuate, “shit happens.”
still unable to look at you, heeseung just nods, the friction from your silk pillowcase making a couple strands of his hair stand on end.
“besides, it was mostly clear,” you look off into the distance, “mostly.”
a second of quiet, and then you ask him, “how much of last night do you remember?”
he rolls onto his back, index and middle fingers of his right hand pinching the bridge of his nose, “most of it, it guess. i remember going out with my friends, stumbling back here and… telling you that i like you…”
“actually i believe you said that you really, really like me.” your sleep swollen lips curve into a teasing smirk.
“fuck off,” he jeers while playfully pushing your shoulder.
“woah!!! lee heeseung drops f-bombs now eh?”
he just chuckles, his hands moving to pass through his frazzled hair. as he shifts under your poofy comforter he realizes he’s still donning the clothes he wore last night - spare for his shoes, which he’s assuming you took off of him and likely put them on the shoe rack by the front door.
a silence settles over the two of you, but this time it’s comfortable. it’s not estranged or pointed, but hospitable.
“i didn’t know you felt that way about me.” you state. it’s not a positive or negative statement, simply neutral; an admission.
heeseung doesn’t say anything, just gazes at your side profile and admires the way your eyelashes grace the tops of your cheeks, the way your top lip converges at your cupids bow, the way your cheekbones are dotted with blemishes.
“can i kiss you?” he asks, “please?”
a plea.
and, in your secluded bedroom on this bright saturday morning, you answer him by pressing your lips to his.
it’s strange, since heeseung can’t seem to discern any actual sensations, he just feels incredibly warm. warm and soft, like taffy that’s been left out and has melted in the glow of the sun. his heart is flipping inside of the cage that is his ribs as he pushes his pursed lips against yours in reciprocation.
you detach your lips from his for a second only to reattach them moments later in a deeper, more passionate kiss that heeseung exhales into, the tip of his nose gracing yours as he tilts his head to sink impossibly deeper into you. his curious hands make their way up to the back of your neck where he grabs ahold and pulls you against him so your torso is on top of his own, your heart beating against his.
underneath the confines of your comforter heeseung feels your leg glide against his own, the sheets crinkling and tangling in the process. his mouth continues to dance against yours with his tongue experimentally poking out every so often before he pushes it past your lips and into your hot mouth. a whimper makes its way out of you and heeseung swears that if he were standing his knees surely would’ve given out from underneath him.
“heeseung…” you whine before nipping at his cushiony bottom lip, sucking at it to soothe the sting - and to make heeseung swoon even more. ugh! he just can’t get enough of you and your sickeningly sweet demeanour.
as you continue to kiss and suck at heeseung pouty lips and perfect teeth you become more and more restless, your hands moving to smooth over the expanse of his chest and the tops of his shoulders where they come to rest. the palms of your hands are soft and delicate and they send a shiver down heeseung’s spine as he feels them grace his cloth covered skin that’s slightly damp with sweat.
with (what seems like) some reluctance, you remove your mouth from heeseung’s with a wet smack. when he cracks open his eyes he finds you beholding him wistfully, your pupils dilated and lips swollen and glossy with lip gloss of his own making.
“can you show me how you get yourself off?”
your voice is deep and slow; sultry, like a glass of oxblood coloured cabernet sauvignon. his breath hitches in his throat once he fully registers the request you just made. show you? on his own??? he does his best to swallow his nerves.
“sure,” heeseung agrees bashfully, “if you can do the same.”
“okay.” you smile before tossing the blankets off of both of your hot bodies. a much welcomed gust of cool air causes heeseung to erupt in a fit of goosebumps (although he’s not quite sure if that’s from the change in temperature or his current predicament).
unsure of what to do next, he waits to follow your lead. with hungry eyes he watches you pull of your pyjama bottoms before tossing them in a heap on the floor, leaving you in a pair of plain light blue panties and an oversized band tee. in somewhat of a rush heeseung fumbles with the hardware of his jeans, struggling to pop the button and tug down the copper zipper at the fault of his nerves. eventually he does so successfully, discarding his bottoms before becoming stuck in limbo.
with deft fingers you begin to drag the hem of your shirt upwards, exposing more and more of your torso before stopping once you reach your sternum. the soft underside of your breasts are just barely peeking out from underneath the fabric.
heeseung watches with wide eyes and a painfully hard cock as you slip your hand underneath the waistband of your panties in one swift motion, a motion that he’s sure you’ve done hundreds of times before this. his brain swims as he thinks about all of the times you’ve touched yourself in this very room, in this very bed.
your knuckles strain and push at the fabric of your underwear as you play with yourself, your chest rising and falling steadily but with slightly more erraticism than before. heeseung follows in your footsteps and reaches to the thick elastic waistband of his boxers, hesitating for only a second before pushing the garment down to his hips, allowing his hard cock to slap against his tense stomach. he spits in his palm before wrapping his hand around the base of his shaft, giving it a few tentative strokes and watching the way his stomach spasms.
“i don’t think i said this before,” you purr, “but you have a really nice cock heeseung.”
your admittance has heeseung overheating, his cheeks and chest flushing a pretty shade of pink. his stomach twists and churns and he slowly starts to jerk himself knowing that you’re watching his every move, like a vulture stalking its pretty. to distract himself from his own ministrations heeseung looks at you, his gaze travelling from your hand in your panties to your chest to your face where he finds you staring back at him, causing him to quickly look away out of sheer embarrassment of being caught.
“what do you think about when you touch yourself?”
you. obviously.
but he doesn’t say that.
he just remains quiet, his eyes darting from place to place but of course, no answer does not satiate your appetite for knowledge, so you push further.
“do you think about me?”
yes. obviously.
he nods steadily in response before realizing that that simply isn’t a satisfactory response.
“always.” his voice is small yet unwavering.
you smile at his admittance, eyes hazy with desire and your cheek squished against your pillow due to your head being turned towards him. breathy moans and pleas tumble past your lips as you finger yourself, your hips rolling into the heel of your palm. slick wet sounds can be heard both from you and from heeseung, whose precum is aiding in his ability to pump his dick at an increasing speed. the burning pit in his stomach slowly grows and grows and he moans aloud, jolting slightly when the outside of your thigh brushes against his own.
as he feels himself approaching the cusp of an orgasm, the familiar sensation looming closer and closer like a moth drawn to a flame, your hand grabs his arm prompting him to stop, your middle and ring fingers wet against where they’re wrapped around his forearm.
in the next second you’re sitting up, hands grasping the hem of your shirt once again only to fully remove it this time, exposing your back back and tits to him rendering him speechless. you discard your panties as well, leaving you completely bare as you move to straddle heeseung’s tense thighs. all he does is look at you in astonishment, mouth slightly agape.
without thinking heeseung reaches forward and envelops both of your breasts with his big hands, his palms rubbing against your hardened nipples while his fingers gently dig into the soft flesh.
“your tits are perfect,” he rasps, hand moving in circular motions to massage your chest.
“really?” your eyes light up at the compliment.
he nods, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he remains enamoured with your figure. your fingers tickle his sides before grasping at his shirt, tugging at it in a way that tells him you want it off; he sits up and removes the garment before you place a palm on his chest and push him back onto your mattress, the springs making a slight squeak at the force. your eyes rake over heeseung’s bare chest as he lays before you, a shaky exhale leaving him every few seconds or so.
“you’re so handsome lee heeseung.” you compliment.
“even when i’m hungover?”
“even when you’re hungover.”
you crawl over his body, just a little bit, so your hips are unbearably close to his aching cock, the tip an enraged red spilling pearly white beads of precum. heeseung tries his best to not shudder when you wrap your hands around his shaft, moving yourself to be perched directly above his dick. you drag his tip through your folds to be a tease, only when the boy beneath you begins to squirm do you line his cock up wit your dripping hole before sinking down on it ever so slowly, gauging heeseungs reaction with scrutiny. he looks quite pretty, with his eyes screwed shut and bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his forehead dotted with beads of sweat. once he’s fully inside of you you remain stagnant, hips flush against his own.
heeseung feels like he’s gone limp, his limbs turned to mush and inoperable. he keeps his eyes tightly shut as he becomes accustomed to the feeling of being inside of you, for he knows if he sees you sitting on top of him he’s going to have heart palpitations.
only once heeseungs face slowly starts to relax, his eyelids slowly fluttering open, do you begin to move, gyrating your pelvis against his at a leisurely pace. heeseung can’t help but whimper when he feels you grinding on top of him, his cock throbbing and sensitive inside the warmth of your pussy.
your hands rest on heeseungs chest to help you stabilize yourself, your nails digging into the soft skin covering his pecs and leaving behind deep red marks. heeseungs hands move to grab at your hips and you arch your back in response, teasingly shoving your tits in his face - he takes this as an invitation and pulls you closer to him so he can wrap hips lips around your left nipple, sucking on it while palming the other.
“oh my-, heeseung,” you moan as heeseung continues to play with your breasts eagerly. in response you increase the pace at which your hips are moving at, grinding against him in a fluid, persistent manner that makes heeseungs vision grow warped fuzzy. once again he feels the slow burn of an orgasm take flight in his stomach, slowly ebbing outwards as you work him towards his climax.
the moans and groans leaving him come out muffled due to his mouth still being wrapped around your breast, only detaching once the need for oxygen becomes stronger and stronger and his heart beats faster and faster. your fingers feel hot against his skin as you fuck him raw, the sensation of your cunt constricting around his cock feeling so other worldly that heeseung believes that you and your pussy and your body the only things tethering to him reality.
his name tumbles past your lips in the form of needy whines as your movements slowly become more and more erratic, your eyes rolled back into your skull as you chase your high. all heeseung can do is lie underneath you, his fingers back on your hips while the tantalizing promise of a mind blowing orgasm renders him almost immobile. sweat rolls off of his brows as he pants and groans, hips feebly bucking upwards in an attempt to make him cum faster.
“i’m so close y/n i-” is all he can manage to whimper to let you know that he’s about to finish, about to erupt into a thousand hot white stars. you moan an ‘i know’ in response before reaching down to play with your clit, your cunt tightening around heeseungs cock with each and every flick of your fingers.
you orgasm with a desperate whine, brows furrowed and eyes shut as you keel over heeseung. your pussy flutters around his cock and you manage to pull yourself off of him right before he cums with a cry of your name, spilling his hot sticky seed all over the expanse of his stomach, which twitches and spasms every so often.
the two of you lay side by side as you wait for your heart rates to lower, for your breathing to steady, for the aching in your lower abdomen to cease. there’s a slight ringing in heeseungs ears which slowly subsides overtime, allowing him to listen to the way your pants morph into heavy breathing. in his peripherals he can see your chest, see the way your eyes are heavy with pleasure. you move your hand just enough so that your knuckles trace across the back of heeseungs hand.
the room comes to a standstill, with the sun peeking through the slats in your shades falling across his tainted stomach that rises and falls with each erratic inhale and exhale he takes. you shift to lie on your side so you’re facing heeseung, allowing your fingertips to dance over his clavicle, his neck, his jawline.
bliss.
euphoria.
a happy ending.
a/n: and to think some of y'all didn't believe that i was gonna give you a happy ending.......... what do you have to say for yourselves now huh? HUH??????? here's you're happy ending i'm gonna go cry now bc i'm weirdly emotionally attached to this series.
patience is a virtue taglist: @hello-stranger24 @jainandan @yohanabanana @iamliacamila @nyanggk @chansmaze @beomgyusonlywife
#enhypen smut#lee heeseung smut#enhypen imagines#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen blurbs#enhypen x reader#lee heeseung x reader#lee heeseung fanfiction#lee heeseung blurbs#lee heeseung imagines#kpop smut
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Spinning the Block Part 3
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Officer Jessica "Jess" Sims
Warning(s): 18+ Animal violence (hunting)
Summary: Jess tries to avoid running into Terry again, but a tip given to her may reveal who killed Mike in prison.
Word count: 4. 4K
"After all that we've been through
I know we'll make it,
I know the way
The question is it true
There is nothing we can't do
I see you along the way baby
The stillness is the move"
Solange – "Stillness is the Move"
Jess spread the bucket of corn on the cob that she soaked for a week on the ground. Dawn broke an hour earlier and the morning sky barely turned a pale peach to match the time of day. She kicked around the ears of corn that soured over time and spread a pungent odor in the air. The perfect bait for wild hogs that roamed on her granddaddy's land.
She lifted her high-powered Marlin 336 rifle onto her shoulder and carried the empty bucket away, stashing it behind a snag tree. Trudging past the bait, she joined up with her father and grandfather. Wild hog hunting had been passed down in her family for five generations. Her hunting knife rested against her right hip for dressing up game on site. Plenty of wild game thrived on the property — deer, turkey, raccoons, rabbit, alligator, wood ducks — but the Sims family loved some good feral hog meat.
Louisiana hog hunting required patience, a talent for shooting, and quick thinking on the spot. In the old days, her grandfather Hebert used trained hunting dogs with her father, Jermaine, and her three uncles. The dogs had all died off over the decades except for a ten-year-old brown and black hound dog named Redbone, the last of his lineage. Jess lived with Redbone and Hebert on the property. Ever since she lost her job with the police department because of its shut down over Terry's case, Hebert's house became her refuge. She took care of him, and he gave her shelter from financial ruin.
Redbone, blind in one eye, rested near Hebert's feet behind the camo netting they used to blend into the surroundings. Hebert stretched his legs in a folding chair and peered out into the trees with his binoculars. His lank gray hair looked thinner pulled back in a long ponytail that touched the middle of his back. She noticed the once sallow coloring of his fair skin had improved. His health hadn't relapsed since she'd been home most days while unemployed. Rheumatoid arthritis wore on him before. Perhaps her presence energized him. He had his good days and bad days with pain in his hands and feet. But today was a good one. Hebert could bend his fingers and shuffle his feet along without wincing.
The hogs roused up early in the morning and stayed active, openly, until full light. Hebert wanted to participate in the hunting, and Jess worried that a long outing would bother him. She found a doctor that prescribed marijuana usage to help his pain management, and since she no longer worked, he shared his weed with her on some nights when inflammation got bad. He toked on a little before they left the house. It pleased her that the effects lasted.
Jermaine nudged the drag sled prepared to haul the meat out.
"We'll probably need to take down about three or four…if we're lucky," Jermaine said.
"We're in the best hotspot, Daddy," Jess said.
Jermaine patted her shoulder and slid his hunting goggles down over his eyes. The feral hogs on their land were invasive, and the state welcomed hunters culling their populations. Hebert often gave permission to outsiders to come on their land to hunt for a small fee. He already allowed loggers to remove walnut trees annually for extra income. Any money he made from those two ventures he split among his children and used the rest to pay his property tax.
They perched quietly behind their camo netting for four hours. Jess noticed Redbone's nose twitching, and she slid her wrap-around shades on and peeked through her telescopic sight. Four rotund hogs barreled into view, chomping down on the corn.
Jess lined up her shot. Unfortunately, the wind shifted slightly, blowing their scent toward the animals. A mottled pink one caught the odor of human and hound, alerting the others.
BLAM!
BLAM!
Jess and Jermaine blasted the brains of two hogs, causing the others to scatter. They both used their levers to reload and popped off two more rounds. Jess downed another hog while her father clipped the shoulder of the one he aimed for. Jumping out from behind the camo, Jermaine went after the injured hog to finish it.
"Daddy! Watch out!"
Another aggressive hog appeared from out of nowhere and charged Jermaine. Jess shot it behind the ear, and it dropped a foot away from her father.
"Getting slow," Jess teased.
"Some good shootin', Jess," Hebert called out.
"Learned from the best," she said, and winked at him.
Jermaine killed the injured hog, and Jess dragged over the sled. Her father was a big, muscular, cornbread fed man, and he used that strength to drag two hogs onto the sled. She packed up the camo net and grabbed the bucket.
"Grandpa, I'll get the chair in a minute. You just relax," Jess said.
Redbone jumped around being frisky and followed Jess behind her father. They trudged along the wooded area until they reached Jermaine's truck. She helped him lift each hog onto the truck bed and they headed back to Hebert and repeated the process two more times. Hebert admired the hundreds of pounds of fresh meat piled on the truck.
"Gon' be some good barbecue," Hebert said.
Back home, Jermaine and Jess set about cutting up the meat behind the house. They donned protective covering and surgical gloves to prevent bacterial contamination.
After gutting the pigs, Jess and her father strung them up under their hunter gazebo. Herbert added salt to three large coolers half filled with ice on standby. Jermaine would transfer the meat to his house and a few others covered in the ice, and Jess's mother would prep their share for the big Saturday cookout.
Jess used her big knife to skin the carcasses, and then she dove right in to carve out sections of meat. She deboned joints, cut off shoulders, back strap, ham parts, hocks, and kneckbones. She used a smaller knife to work on the tenderloin parts and ribs once they moved the rest to a work table nearby. The pigs were too lean to carve out bacon, so she worked efficiently to get as much useful meat as possible off the carcass. Jermaine used a lopper to snap apart larger bones, joints, and the heads when needed. It took them about an hour to cut and quarter the various parts needed for Saturday. The rest would go into a deep freezer for winter soup beans and stews. Her father would drop off the unused parts at a rendering plant to be turned into fertilizer. It was a good day of hunting.
She cleaned up the gazebo and work table and then took a shower. Hebert caught up on his marathon viewing of Law & Order episodes in the livingroom. She fixed him an early dinner of baked sweet potato with turnip greens and fried catfish, placing it on a TV dinner tray in front of his recliner. Sitting near him on the couch, she ate with him and quietly watched cops go after bad guys. After Terry's case, Jess couldn't watch the show the same way again.
Terry.
Jess nibbled on her catfish. Was he still in town? She planned on staying away from the town square. No need to tempt fate and run into that man again. He was a past that needed burying.
The landline rang, and Jess answered it. Her friend Melody sounded breathless.
"Jess…girl…come on down to the Pit with me and Alexa tonight. It's Ladie's night and free cover. Alexa doesn't have to work tomorrow, so she's up for some drinking and dancing."
Jess glanced at her grandfather.
"Who is it?" he asked.
Jess covered the mouthpiece.
"Melody wants me to go down to the Pit tonight with Alexa."
Hebert waved his hand.
"Go on and get outta the house. Do you some good to be out with your girlfriends. I'll be okay by myself."
"You sure?"
"I got Redbone with me."
"Promise not to overdo it on the weed?"
"A man runs out of his house naked one time, and now his granddaughter can't trust him to be by hisself," he grumbled.
Jess giggled.
"Okay, I'm in," she said into the phone.
"Oh, good! Dress real cute, because you know Zion is on the prowl for you."
Jess sucked her teeth.
"I wish y'all would stop tryna fix me up with that man."
"Girl, do you know how hard it is to find a fine man that's single, child-free, and looking to settle down right away? He's had his eye on you for the longest."
"With all that's been going on with me, I don't see how he could be interested."
"Jess, hush, now. All that shit is over and done with. Time for a new start… and time for you to throw your hat in the ring before he gets snatched up. Be ready by seven thirty. Cover is free until nine. We get there early and we can get a good booth seat by the dance floor."
"Alright. I'll be ready. But I'm driving there myself."
She hung up and sighed.
"You don't sound excited," Hebert said.
"It's a setup. They're tryna get me with Zion."
"Zion is a nice fella. Decent family. I know his grandfather real well. You not interested in dating?"
"People think partnering up with somebody is going to make me happy now that I'm not working. I need a job, not a man."
"Zion makes good money down at the plant. Let a man spoil you a little bit if he wants to. You ain't gotta marry him or nothin'."
"You right, Granddaddy. You right. I just don't want to feel pressured about it, like I can't get a man on my own…if I wanted one."
She lifted his empty plate and glass from his tray.
"You want anymore to eat?"
"Nah, I'm full. That was a tasty dinner. Thank you."
She picked up her empty plate and piled it on his. While washing dishes in the kitchen, she thought of what to wear.
The Pit smelled like perfumed sweat and chicken grease, a thick country kind of odor that lingered in the air. Jess didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. She flat ironed her hair so that it looked long and silky falling down her back, but by the time she got inside the jumping club, her edges curled back because of the heat. A live band kicked up some fiery zydeco music, and she danced with several men before taking a breather at a booth seat with her friends. Several men bought them drinks, and Jess sulked a bit when she didn't find Zion anywhere. All that talk about him seeking her affections by her friends didn't pan out. She twisted her hair into a high bun and sipped on some bourbon. Revealing some cleavage kept plenty of other suitors barking up her tree.
Shelby Springs men loved big women. The more rolls on the belly and back, the better, too. The women were known to be talented cooks in the kitchen and in the bedroom, and southern Black Creole men had a predilection toward securing one and wifing them up. They liked buxom chests, real asses, and lively personalities.
Jess knew she was a catch.
Men eyed her up and down the moment she walked in the door, displaying her wares and swinging her hips from east to west. Tight booty-hugging jeans. Low cut V-neck top with her good strapless push-up bra. High heel ankle boots gave her extra va-voom. Her breasts were always her best lure, and then the men noticed she had a pretty face to match all the big girl curves. Pear-shaped with a short waist, Jess could use her front and back to attract dance partners.
The Pit was full of Black Creoles and Black Cajuns. There's no real hardcore distinction between the two in Jess's mind. After hundreds of years, they were all a big pot of gumbo culturally. Most of the Black Cajuns descended from the French Canadians that migrated to Louisiana from Acadie. Her great-grandfather used to tell Hebert stories about their white side. That's how Jess learned that Acadians were referred to as 'cadians by English speakers in Louisiana that eventually mutated into 'cajuns'.
The Black Creoles had immigrant French and Italian roots from Europe with some Indigenous heritage that spread out from New Orleans. Many of the Black Creoles had bloodlines all the way from Haiti. Out of the two, Creoles were the wilder by far because they had liberation DNA encoded in them from their African and Native ancestry. There was something about that Black and Red mix that stood out sometimes. Whenever Jess had to be called out as a cop to break up fights or do a welfare check, she could tell how things would go down by the ancestry. Black Cajuns valued communication first before they went off…but the Creoles? Pfft. Those negroes were cayenne pepper. Fists first, questions last.
Terry Richmond was definitely a Creole.
Jess chugged down her drink. The man lingered in her mind like a severe headache. He hugged her, and she knew what those muscles felt like now…the same ones that beat the ass of nearly a dozen men in front of her without using a gun. Pure Creole fury.
He smelled good, too.
Jess stood and walked around with Melody and left their two other friends, Patricia and Alexa, to watch their purses and seats. She tapped her feet to the hot, rambunctious music and searched around for another dance partner.
A man at the bar kept staring at her. He had a lean, rawhide build and purposely kept his baseball cap low on his face to obscure his eyes. Every few seconds, he glanced over at Jess. She sensed he wasn't interested in dancing or checking her out sexually. He studied her. She moved away to see if he would follow, and he did. She positioned herself behind some tall men near the end of the bar, facing the dance floor. Melody went to the restroom, and Jess waited for her. Right when Melody came back, a cute short king grabbed her hand to dance and pulled her away from Jess. Zion appeared then, and Jess forgot all about the man with the cap.
"Where you been?" Jess asked.
Zion grinned, flashing her big teeth. A husky man nearly six feet tall, he had rugged good looks and a flirtatious voice that sounded playful in her ear. Sweat shined up his dark brown skin. A crisp new haircut and fancy fits helped him stand out from the crowd, especially his gator skin boots.
"I've been looking for you, sweet thing," he uttered with sly charm.
"That's what I hear."
"What we gonna do about it, then?"
Jess grabbed his hand and dragged him out to the center of the dance floor, hugging her body tight against his as the ricochet of silver spoons dragging across a metal washboard and a reedy accordion squeezed by a heavyset man singing in French Creole controlled their spinning and grinding in time to the music. Jess snaked her hips and Zion swiveled his. The heat of her crotch rested on his thigh as they wiggled down to the floor and back up, the old school French La La music of her granddaddy's day pushing them to go faster and faster. Zion swung her out in a catch and release move and they yelled their delight at being alive in a sweltering club. God, it felt good to dance her blues away!
They stayed on the packed dance floor for three full songs until Jess begged for a break in her boots. She grabbed her purse and took a breather outside. A quick call on her smartphone reassured her that her grandfather was tucked in bed for the night. He told her not to come home early if she didn't need to, hinting that it was okay to hook up with Zion if she wanted.
She hung up and wiped perspiration from her brow, and noticed the reflection of the strange man behind her from the car window. Digging into her purse, she pretended to put her phone away and reached for her nine millimeter handgun to scare him. He caught her in the blind sight of the club, where no one would see or hear them by the SUV. She spun around and aimed it at his chest.
"The fuck are you following me for?" she barked.
The man held his hands up.
"Easy…I just want to talk to you."
"About what?"
"Terry Richmond."
She narrowed her eyes. Kept the gun on him.
"What about him?"
"I know who you are and I know what those cops did to him…and his cousin."
The man glanced around to make sure no one heard them.
"I have some information and know who killed Mike Simmons. I was at the prison where he was murdered."
Jess drew in a sharp breath.
"You betta not be fucking lying."
"I'm not. I also know the location of the weapon that was used on him. Hid it myself."
"Where?"
"We can't talk here. I'll meet you somewhere safe. You choose where. But I'ma need some money for the information to help me get outta town. It'll be too dangerous for me to stay here once I tell you."
"There's always some catch involving cash."
"It is what it is."
"How much?"
"Ten thousand dollars."
Jess rolled her eyes.
"You think I'm supposed to pay you that?"
"Not you…him. I know he's in town. I saw you with him."
She kept the gun on him and pulled out her cell.
"Give me your number."
"225-342-6863"
She typed and then glared at him.
"What's your name?"
His eyes diverted toward noisy patrons leaving the club in the opposite direction.
"Zeb Chapman."
Jess took a long, hard look at him.
"Zion's brother? How long have you been out of prison?"
"Eighteen months."
She relaxed and put away her weapon. Slinging her purse across her shoulders, Jess stared at him, full of curiosity.
"Call me and tell me where to meet you, Jess. I swear this ain't no con. I shouldn't even be seen with you. If they know I contacted you, they'd kill me."
"They?"
Zeb's jittery moves let her know he was truly nervous.
"Call me."
Zeb scurried back into the club. Jess stood next to her car to gather her thoughts. She assumed the "they" Zeb mentioned must've been the gangsters that had it out for Mike for snitching on a mob boss back east. It was the main reason Terry was vigilant about getting his cousin's bail. An uncomfortable tightness clenched her stomach. She called Melody on her phone.
"Where are you?" Melody squeaked, with the feisty zydeco music cracking in the background.
"I have a headache and went to my car. I'm going to head home early."
"Okay, call me and let me know you made it home safe. Are you good to drive?"
"I'm fine."
"I'm sorry you're not feeling well. Zion is looking for you."
"Tell him I'll catch him on the dance floor another time."
"Will do."
Jess dug into her purse again and pulled out a business card at the bottom. Terry's motel number was a few touches away on her phone. It might be too late to call. Plus, she didn't want him to have her number. She could just drive over there, knock on his door, and give him the information directly. He could pass it off to the authorities and she could wash her hands of the whole thing.
She popped open the trunk and rummaged around for something else to put over her top. Just a gray long-sleeve shirt sat under a pile of plastic recycled shopping bags. She glanced around and quickly yanked off her sexy top and traded it for the gray shirt.
Loading the GPS with the motel address, Jess quelled the anxiousness rising in her chest. Her Durango rode smoothly on the highway and she arrived at the rinky-dink establishment in less than twenty minutes. She parked at the far end of the guest parking and watched the property. Terry's room was the middle one on the bottom floor. The outside light was on and the curtains were drawn. She couldn't tell if the indoor lights were on because the curtains looked dark and heavy. Debating to get out or not, Jess sat in the SUV for half an hour, mustering up the guts to face him. Eventually, she hopped out and strode toward his room.
She knocked on the door and waited.
Knocked again.
No answer.
She closed her eyes, thankful that he wasn't there. It would be better to deal with everything in the morning with the soothing light of day. She turned to go back to her vehicle and bright headlights blasted her eyes. A car pulled in front of the empty parking space facing Terry's door. Summer and Terry stared at her in surprise. They both stepped out of Summer's car and faced her.
"Hey," she said.
Terry's lips quirked up into a half smile. The whites of his eyes looked pink under the overhead light of his room. But the green stayed intense…probing. He had a way of looking at people that unraveled them. Jess glanced at Summer.
"Summer was dropping me off," Terry said.
"Yeah, we just had dinner…dropping him off for the night," Summer said.
Terry took in her uneasy stance. It was after eleven at night. He turned to Summer.
"Thanks for a great meal, and the ride back," he said.
"No problem. Talk to you another time. Before you leave."
Summer awkwardly looked at Jess.
"Good seeing you, Jess."
"Yeah."
"Night y'all," Summer said.
She climbed into her car and drove off. Terry used a motel card to slip inside the door handle slot of room six instead of five. An audible click sounded off, and Terry opened the door wide.
"Come in," he said.
He reached inside and flicked on a light. Jess walked in before he did. Everything in the simple room was neat and undisturbed.
"Sit," he said, offering her the only chair in the room.
He sat on his bed.
"There's no air conditioning in room five. It broke before I went to dinner with Summer, so the manager switched me into this room. I'm glad you showed up. I had no way to contact you about the change. What brought you here so late?"
"A man approached me outside of a club tonight. He's been watching me and said he knows who killed your cousin. He wants to meet in a safe place."
Jess watched the information spread across Terry's features like water rippling across a pond. His eyes bore into hers like a sun blazing through a magnifying glass, causing her to shift uncomfortably in her seat and dart her gaze elsewhere. Like the wall to her right.
"Who is he?"
"He claims to have been in the prison with Mike when it happened. He's scared, and he also wants you to pay him ten thousand for the information."
Terry bolted from the bed.
"Take me to him right now."
He loomed over her, and those damn eyes rooted her to the chair.
"Jess…take me to him."
It was a stern command.
She jumped up.
"I'll give you his number—"
"If he's still at the club, you know what he looks like and can point him out to me. I need to talk to him tonight."
"It might spook him. He said he'll be in danger once he tells you. The money is for his escape from town."
Terry walked around the bed and pulled open the closet door. He dug into a suitcase, pulling out a fresh shirt. He took off the one he had on and replaced it with a form-fitting black shirt that fit his chest like new skin. Jess averted her gaze. His dark chinos and stylish black Moschino boots didn't need changing. He tucked a pair of shades into his shirt.
"C'mon…you drive," he said.
She couldn't protest. The determination in his face and steps forced her to comply and follow him.
Outside, she led him to her Durango.
"He might be gone already."
"Then we'll call him if he is."
She drove him in silence and slid into a parking spot not too far from her original one earlier. He climbed out and she walked to the back of her SUV. She opened her trunk and picked up her sexy top.
"Turn your head, please," she said.
Terry looked away, and she pulled off the long sleeve shirt, switching back to her previous top. She adjusted it and smoothed back her hair. He turned back around and her stomach filled with butterflies. Her cleavage worked its magic despite the circumstances, and Terry showed his hand by glancing at her breasts. He threaded his fingers with hers and tossed his shades on, pulling her toward the club entrance.
"Once we get inside, you play it cool. Understand? We're just on a night out together. When you spot him, whisper in my ear," he said.
The words flew right over her head. His hand was gentle, yet strong, holding hers. She could feel underboob sweat breaking out on her breasts. They reached the front entrance, and Jess took a deep breath. Terry squeezed her hand, reassuring her, and they stepped inside together.
Part 4 Soon come...
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Milkweed Lovers Everywhere, Heed My Warning
By all means let me know if I'm wrong here, but if I'm not wrong then we're looking at a serious (at least to me) problem.
I've been trying to stray away from Tropical Milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) and towards more native species in my area--things like swamp, sandhill, etc--and Butterflyweed (Asclepias tuberosa) fits in that category for me. It's hard to find native milkweed plants in stores--even places I've gone to in the past that had a handful of native species are currently only selling Tropical Milkweed. Even still, I know that there's been a good bit of buzz around growing native species, and some stores I've visited have said they're trying to find vendors with native species--they're not only selling Tropical for lack of trying.
So imagine my surprise--and delight--when I go to Lowe's and see Asclepias tubersoa blazoned on a plant label!
And imagine my surprise when it's being sold right next to Tropical Milkweed and looks almost identical to it.
I was immediately suspicious--especially considering the red flower buds on the 'Butterfly weed'. I've grown Tropical Milkweed for several years, and while it's been awhile since I've seen a Butterfly Weed plant outside of a photograph, these definitely didn't look like what I'd seen. Not to mention, I'd only heard of Asclepias tuberosa flowering in orange or yellow--not red. Of course, at the same time, I'm not a professional botanist, and a quick google search did declare that butterfly weed can grow in red (though the images all look like asclepias curassavica to me...).
(Image from the Native Plant Database. Looking at this picture, I should've realized where this was going sooner...)
So I did the reasonable thing and bought two of them. I figured if the red buds somehow turned orange and were actually Butterfly Weed, then I'd be perfectly satisfied. If they turned out to be Tropical Milkweed, well, I simply would give them to my neighbor who's fond of them, or find something else to do with them.
(I feel the need to emphasize; there are a lot of people online who are in the 'if you plant tropical milkweed you're a horrible person and intentionally killing monarch butterflies' camp. I am not one of them; it's not invasive in my area of Florida, it just takes a little bit of extra managing in terms of cutting it back in October/November.)
I ended up in the same Lowe's again today, shopping for my mom, and took a peek at their plant selection. Lo and behold, I found the Butterfly Weed, and...
This sure does look like Tropical Milkweed to me, and to others in my gardening server, yet it's still labeled as 'Butterfly Weed.' Also, I didn't see any Tropical Milkweed on any of the shelves--at least, nothing labeled as Tropical Milkweed. Instead, all I saw was Tropical Milkweed disguised as Butterfly Weed.
This is, in my humble pollinator garden enthusiast opinion, a problem. At best, Lowe's--or the company they source their plants from--is mislabeling their plants on accident. Which could cause problems if people are buying the plants and putting them in a place that's not quite the right condition for them, or create severe disappointment if someone's excited to grow the native Asclepias tuberosa only to end up with something else entirely. At worst? Lowe's--or the company they source their plants from--are aware that people want to grow native milkweed and are either unable to or too lazy to grow them, and would rather try to get away with selling Tropical Milkweed--which has been growing increasingly controversial in some gardening circles--and still reap the benefits and profits of selling native milkweed species.
However, I'll be real? I'm not sure what exactly to do about it. So I guess I'm just letting everyone know; if you see 'Butterfly Weed (Asclepias tuberosa)' in your local Lowe's, at least double check. Otherwise, you may plant Tropical Milkweed/Scarlet Milkweed (Asclepias curassavica) instead.
#milkweed#gardening#flowers#pollinator gardening#pollinator garden#Lowe's#tropical milkweed#butterfly weed#asclepias curassavica#asclepias tuberosa#outdoor gardening#flower gardening#ani rambles#out of queue#idk how legible this post is but I hope its at least SOMEWHAT legible yknow?
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