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flowesona · 4 years ago

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Voluntary Victim - Yandere! Yoongi x reader

Warning: Sexual content

Finding a victim was like shooting fish in a barrel. Dozens of young men and women surrounded her, each adorned with accessories bought with daddy’s money and high to the heavens on whatever substance they could find.

The boy who had his arm around their waist at that moment seemed a bit more refined than the others - he was worth a million dollars, sure, but he at least seemed to be a bit more modest.

They stopped trying to spy the drunken boy they’d just seen sneak off into the restroom and turned to focus the gentleman by their side.

“Hi! My friends call me Angel.” They shouted over the thumping bass, watching in amusement as the young man’s eyebrows furrowed in trying to hear what they were saying.

“That name suits you. I’m Yoongi.” He replied simply. “Do you want a drink?”

“Of course.” (Y/N) gave him a cheeky smile and took his hand within their own to lead him towards the bar.

“What will you be having?” He called out over the music once they had arrived.

“Surprise me.” Was all they said. A simple tactic really - made them think they cared about his opinion, that they would do as they pleased.

He nodded and as soon as he made eye contact with one of the bar staff they abandoned the gaggle of people trying to flag them down and listened intently as he leaned over to talk into their ear.

That was how they knew they had struck gold. The bartender didn’t even hesitate in making their drinks right away, and the lack of payment screamed that he was on some kind of guest list.

Once he had passed one of the glasses over to (Y/N), the glint in his eye said that their night was going according to plan.

“Are you here often?” He raised his voice slightly, and (Y/N) shook their head in response.

“First time. Maybe you can show me around?”

“What?” He leaned in closer, his body pressing deliciously close to theirs. “I can’t hear you.”

“I’ve never been here before. Are you a regular?”

He shook his head, though they weren't sure if it was because of the question or because of their uncomfortable conditions.

“Should we find somewhere a bit quieter?” (Y/N) nodded, and with their cocktail in one hand and his warm hand clasping their other Yoongi led them through one of the staff only doors - receiving affirming nods from the staff along the way - and into a more secluded lounge.

There were LED lights lining the walls lighting the room up into a rich royal blue, and there were leather sofas and coffee tables dotted around.

“Normally this is where we hold member’s parties. But tonight, Father said I could have it to myself, and whichever guests I please.”

Yoongi hummed, leading them gently to one of the sofas and placing his drink down on the table so that both his hands were now free. (Y/N) took a sip for courage before following suit.

“What do you do for a living then?” They asked, her fingertips subtly rubbing circles into his thigh.

“I’m training to take over my father’s business.” He answered simply. “What about you, Angel?”

“I’m studying English.” (Y/N) purred, leaning in slightly. “But I don’t have any plans for the future, unlike you.”

“Pretty young things like you don’t need a plan when there’s men like me to take care of you.”

“Maybe so. Or maybe I could take care of you.” Yoongi smirked at their comment, leaning forward to grab his drink.

“I’m sure you can, baby.”

They continued to caress his thigh as he drank.

“You know, you seem so well spoken, Angel. There’s more to your pretty little head than most the vermin out there.” (Y/N) wanted to vomit, but they kept up their saccharine smile.

“Really?” It was time to make their move. “I know how else I can prove to you how much better I am than those other whores, you know.”

He raised his eyebrows, intrigued, as they pressed a sloppy kiss to his lips.

Their fingers found the buttons on his neatly pressed shirt and slowly started to pop them open.

“Can I ask you something…?” They whispered, their fingertips tracing over the smooth skin of his exposed chest and appreciating how he just barely shuddered under her touch.

Yoongi nodded, imploring them to go on.

“I’ve always wanted to be more… adventurous. But none of the guys I’ve fucked have ever wanted to try anything with me. But I know you’re far better than them, right?”

There was some unknown emotion glazing over Yoongi’s eyes - intrigue, maybe mixed with some jealousy?

“Will you let me…” They dug into their wallet, and pulled out a pair of steel handcuffs. “put these on you?”

He visibly gulped, but (Y/N) could tell by the flush covering his cheeks that they had him hook, line and sinker.

“Please, gorgeous. Make this night special for me?” They purred. Finally, he gave them an apprehensive nod and they sat up with a happy smirk.

Their fingers ran up and down the smooth pale skin of his arm, before they gently pulled on his shirt and pushed him to the ground, right next to the coffee table.

Yoongi’s eyes were shining as “Angel” sat on his lap, looking at them like they were a gift granted by heaven. His breathing only got heavier as they pressed their chest to his, taking his wrists and securing them behind the leg on the coffee table. When they were done, they pressed a kiss to Yoongi’s neck and he felt his face burn up as if he was eight years old.

However, rather than attempting to make any more advances as he was hoping, his companion’s focus changed entirely.

“Your watch is very nice.”Their fingers danced along his wrist, fiddling with the expensive leather. “How much did it cost you?”

“That doesn’t matter.” He huffed. “Chicken feed, darling. Please…?”

(Y/N) just continued to inspect it and ignore his subtle whines for attention.

“I could get a pretty penny for this, couldn’t I?” Yoongi felt his heart drop as he felt them unclasp it and hold it up to the light. “Cartier, one of a kind. Mind if I keep it?”

“Whatever, please just-”

“What else do you have on you?” Tucking the watch into their wallet, they finally made eye contact with him again.

Yoongi didn’t reply, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips.

“Did you bring your wallet?”

He shook his head, but they stuck their hand into his jacket pocket and found the thick wad of leather tucked away. With an impressed whistle they flicked through the cash whilst tipping his credit cards onto the floor.

“You… you can have it all. It doesn’t matter.” Yoongi rattled the chains again, desperately trying to get free.

“Thank you.” They smiled, shoving the wallet into their pocket. “Where’s your phone?”

“My back pocket.” The young man hissed. “Please, if you just want my money baby-”

“Shut it.” (Y/N) shot back as they retrieved his top model phone and chucked out the SIM card. “If you start making a fuss I’ll shut you up myself.”

He blushed. Clearly, he was some kind of fucked up to be aroused by this.

“I think I might- wait, what is this?” A smile settled on (Y/N)’s face as they unclasped the chain from his neck and admired how it shone in the LED lights.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I think it’s time I take my leave. The night’s still young.”

They pressed a kiss to his flushed cheek.

“Thank you for the great time.”

“No, don’t go. Please, you can have my shit, just come back here!” Yoongi whined as she walked away with a spring in their step, shutting the door behind them to cut off his cries from the outside world as they escaped the stuffy nightclub and out into the cool midnight air.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Most people who’d been seduced, tied up and robbed would be humiliated, but not Yoongi. Rather, the only thing he held against his angel was that they’d left him. His wallet could be easily refilled, his jewellery and phone could be replaced, but ‘Angel’ was one of a kind and he wanted to have them.

He’d eventually managed to escape his bondage, tipping over the coffee table and sliding his hands out. Although he had to find one of the employees to help him out of the handcuffs, the embarrassment didn’t set in. Instead, he sought out one of the bouncers and pulled them to the side to ask if they’d seen someone called Angel. After nearly ten minutes of describing their ethereal appearance the bouncer was able to recall their existence, but unable to give Yoongi any more information.

But from that day forward, they had a stranglehold on his mind. His thoughts were overridden with fantasies of what could have happened if ‘Angel’ had stayed - them gripping his throat with those silky fingers, marking his neck with their teeth, unbuttoning his pants and taking him into their mouth…

They were addictive. He found himself trying his hardest to seek them out again - he knew she wouldn’t return to his father’s nightclub, so he explored every other one in the city. He’d scoured the CCTV cameras in the club and managed to find a (somewhat blurry) still, which he’d enhanced and printed out. Not only did he keep a copy to himself - tucked away in his work diary so that he could see them every day - but he circulated it to all of the clubs he could reach, asking them to call him if they ever saw his angel for a handsome reward.

But months passed with no news, and rather than recovering Yoongi’s obsession only got worse. He spent hours futilely searching for the name they’d given him on the internet with no reward, but he couldn’t stop.

“Can I pay with cash, please?” Yoongi had been half-asleep, the night before having sapped him of all energy that could only be perked up with coffee, when he heard that voice. That unforgettable voice. The one that haunted his dreams every night and the one he’d been craving to hear.

“Of course. Could I have a name for your order?”

“(Y/N).” Yoongi’s heart sunk. Had he gotten his hopes up over the wrong person? Had he been so deluded in his desire for his angel that he’d started to hallucinate about them?

But when (Y/N) stepped to the side to wait for their coffee, he finally saw their profile and he knew they were the one who had captured his heart. That was why it had been impossible to find them, because they’d given him a fake name!

His heart was beating a thousand beats a second as he watched them take the coffee from the barista and flash the worker a smile whilst sliding them a tip. God, how he hoped he would soon be the recipient of one of those dazzling expressions.

All thoughts of caffeine were wiped out as he had now found his real drug, abandoning the queue to quietly follow them out of the cafe at a safe distance.

‘They haven’t changed at all. I guess you can’t improve on perfection.’

Yoongi admired them as she walked. They still had glowing skin, the most perfect body in his eyes, and an unmatched energy that drew him in.

It was tricky blended into the background, especially when the crowds thinned out and he was following them into a smaller neighbourhood. His heart was thudding, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be caught or not. He didn’t know what was driving him to follow them and why he hadn’t already spoken up.

(Y/N) wasn’t stupid. They stopped in place to get out their phone and observed how the hooded man also stopped a few metres away.

“Stop following me or I’ll call the police.” They called out.

Yoongi took a few steps forward.

“What will they do? Give me a slap on the wrist for being a naughty boy?”

Their brow furrowed. Did they recognise his voice? God, he hoped that was the case. He was ready to get down on his knees and beg for their love.

“Whatever. Just leave me alone, freak.” They hissed, unlocking their phone to call their friend, so he could get them the hell out of there.

Starting to panic, he rushed forward and wrenched their phone out of their hands, throwing it to the ground and digging his heel into the screen for good measure. For a second, there was silence only permeated by Yoongi’s heavy breathing.

“Someone-!”

Their plea for help was cut off by his hand pressed against their mouth.

“Can we continue this conversation elsewhere? My hotel room, perhaps?”

The blush on this psycho’s cheeks as his hands grasped theirs sickened (Y/N) to no end. Did he think this was a normal way to hit on someone, by breaking their phone and kidnapping them?

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“I’ll call the chauffeur. Don’t worry, he won’t be long.”

(Y/N) was still trying to pry his fingers from their own, but they were like iron.

“Who the fuck are you?” They hissed.

“You don’t remember me?” His eyes were filled with hurt, and the hand clutching his phone was trembling as he held it to his ear, clearly following through on his words.

“Yoongi. You introduced yourself to me as Angel, I bought you a drink and we went into the private lounge for a chat?”

‘Shit.’

It clicked, (Y/N) knew exactly who he was. They’d made so much selling his one-of-a-kind Cartier watch that they’d been able to move cities and settle into a new profession entirely.

Most rich kids were ashamed when (Y/N) got the best of them, and few chased after them for revenge. But Yoongi had a different kind of fire in his eyes.

“Look, you can have all the money I have leftover you want? I swear, we can replace everything I took-”

“Oh no, it’s all yours, baby. I want you to have that, and so much more too.” Yoongi was way too calm, his smile way too sincere. He was absolutely off his rocker. “Anything you need to take from me, it’s yours. But I want something in return, you understand?”

(Y/N) felt a shiver go down their spine when a sleek black car, with tinted windows, drew up.

“Come on. You still have a lot to prove to me, right?”

#yandere kpop #yandere bts #yandere #yandere x reader #kpop yandere #yandere yoongi #yandere yoongi x reader #yandere suga #yandere suga x reader #yandere oneshot #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #yandere min yoongi x reader #yandere au

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 4 years ago

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Flowers

Fandom: Nashville

Pairing: Deacon Claybourne x Reader

Characters: Deacon Claybourne, Reader, Scarlett O’Conner

Word Count: 1247 // Rating: Teen

Summary: It took losing you for me to find myself.

Tags/ Warnings: Established Relationship, Angst, Love, Grief, Death, Sobriety, Drunk Driving, Drunk, Turmoil, Crying, Song Fic [x]

Notes: I’m doing 12 days of Songfic for Halloween. Not halloween related just a challenge to write everyday [updated 9/22]

12 Days of Songfic Spooktober (Oct 19th - Oct 31st)

Deacon hated wearing suits. He had always felt uncomfortable in them. Too stiff, too straight-laced but he understood it was sometimes necessary. Today was one of those days. So, that morning he got up, showered and shaved before he slipped on his suit. It was his church suit. A two-piece, black and understated but it still made him look smart. As he finished up adjusting the cuffs Scarlett stuck her head around the door, ‘you ready to go?’

‘Sure am,’ Deacon said. Scarlett smiled at him though there was sadness in her eyes. She disappeared out the door and Deacon grabbed his wallet and keys off of his dresser and followed her out. She was already sitting in his truck, in the driver’s seat. Deacon slid into the cab and watched as Scarlett started up the car and commenced driving down the streets of Nashville to their destination.

The truck was a run-down, beat-up, old thing with a roaring engine. Deacon had bought it second-hand a few months back from the garage that had taken in his last car. They passed it on the journey and Deacon could see the SUV in the lot though it was different now. It was dusty and covered in leaves that had fallen from the trees on the sidewalk outside the lot. The windshield was cracked and the hood crumbled from where it had been totalled. Deacon looked away.

It took less than ten minutes to reach the church and when they did the room was already filled with folks and the event had already started. Scarlett and Deacon entered quietly and slipped into seats by the door trying not to draw attention to themselves. Deacon sat in the group for half an hour, listening to others talk until his friend and sponsor Darren called on him.

‘Deacon,’ he said, ‘I know you came in late so you might have missed the narrative of today’s meeting but I see you’ve brought-’ ‘Scarlett,’ his niece interjected. ‘Scarlett along like we planned. See today is about making amends with people we’ve wrong in our close relationships. Is there anything you want to say to Scarlett or maybe someone else you’ve wrong, someone who’s close to you?’ ‘Um yeah,’ Deacon said shifting nervously in his seat, ‘Scarlett’s my niece. And she’s lived with me for a while now and there’s no doubt my drinking has impacted her life more than it should. It impacted my parents before her. And my sister. I was a bad brother, son and uncle. I hurt them a lot, I know that. I only hope they can forgive me.’ ‘I do,’ Scarlett murmured as she reached for her uncle’s hand and grasped it tightly as she smiled at him. ‘That’s very nice of you Scarlett,’ Darren said, ‘you see people often believe that family has to forgive you for your sins and while it’s nice when they do it can’t always be expected. Is there anyone else you would like to apologise to Deacon?’ ‘Actually, yeah, my girlfriend, ex-girlfriend,’ Deacon corrected himself as he dropped his glance to his hands which he wrung nervously on his lap. ‘Go on,’ Darren encouraged.

‘I didn’t treat her as well as I should’ve. She loved going out dancing and to dinner and a movie. I didn’t like those things because I was obsessed with going somewhere I knew I would find a drink. I like singing at the bluebird because it seemed like a night out but I was still able to drink. I liked touring because she couldn’t see how much I drank and I didn’t have to hide it. Everyone else on tour drank and I was in hotel rooms by myself drinking at 10 am and no one would know. I wasn’t really there as a boyfriend. I spent my money on booze instead of Christmas and birthday presents. And I know she loved me and don’t get me wrong I loved her but that’s not always enough y’know.’

‘Sometimes we don’t think about anything other than drink,’ Darren said which got a murmur of agreement from the rest of the AA group, ‘sometimes we know we’re doing wrong and we do it anyway.’ ‘I take it the two of you ended things?’ said a woman Deacon had never met before from across the circle. ‘Yeah,’ Deacon said. Scarlett caught his eye and then quickly looked away which caused Deacon to be overcome with a morose feeling, ‘if you’ll excuse me I have to nip to the bathroom.’

Deacon got up out of his plastic chair and exited the way they had come in but instead of turning right towards the single toilet down at the end of a dingy corridor he turned left and exited through the main door and into the parking lot where his car was stationed. He opened it up and grabbed the bouquet of flowers that were laying on the backseat and started wandering through the church grounds until he reached where he wanted to be. He sat down on the grass which was still slightly damp with dew facing a grey headstone. It wasn’t fancy and it bore only a last name and dates but it was enough to make feel Deacon feel her presence.

‘You know I hate doing stuff like this,’ he said with a chuckle as if he were waiting for her to answer though of course she couldn’t, ‘I hate talking about myself in there never mind out here where I seem insane.’

‘You know they asked me if I was sorry for anything?’ He chuckled ironically, ‘it would’ve been easier to list what I wasn’t sorry for I bet. I didn’t tell them everything though. I didn’t tell them I was sorry for hurting you. I didn’t tell them I was sorry that I didn’t listen to you when you told me not to drive home from the bar in the state I was in. I didn’t tell them how sorry I was that my drinking got you killed.’ ‘You couldn’t have known that would happen,’ came Scarlett’s voice from behind him, ‘I figured this is where you’d be.’ ‘I knew drunk driving was never a good idea,’ he said, ‘I insisted she come with me. Whose fault was it Scar?’

Scarlett came and sat down beside him resting her head on his shoulder as they looked at the headstone. They sat quietly for a moment and Scarlett watched her uncle in the reflection of the cold hard granite as he closed his eyes allowing tears to fall silently. After a while, they got up and Deacon dusted the dirt off of his suit as Scarlett bent down and looked at the flowers she recognised from the back seat.

‘Did you buy flowers?’ she asked. ‘Yeah, tulips were her favourite,’ he smiled.

And I’d take your place in this field of stone, If I only had to power, Look what it took, For me to finally bring you flowers.

#My writing #spooktober #12 days of spooktober #deacon claybourne x reader #deacon claybourne #deacon claybourne fic #nashville #nashville fic #angst #sad #death #songfic #flowers

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shesclearlya3 · 5 years ago

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Dancing With a Stranger P.2

@iits-mikha asked: n a recent interview they asked Cody if he could have the opportunity to play another character he would had chosen to be the Countess, So my request is this: an AU where old!Michael where he’s not the antichrist but is the owner of the Hotel Cortez, please!!

pairing: Older!Michael x Reader

word count: 5,055

warnings: au!, language, seductive-boi, unprotected sex, oral (female and male receiving), other smutty goodness. idk how i thought i’d keep this smut free, yikes. i hardly write smut so i hope it’s not too terrible, enjoy.

*not entirely proof-read*

part 1

The next few days were a blur.

You and Winter spent the days at the park, getting scared and meeting your favorite characters. You changed your phone wallpaper to a picture of you and Beetlejuice, your cheesy grin making you flinch every time you unlocked your phone. Yet, you were living your best life, and it was a much-needed break from reality.

As the hours of screams and thrill rides went by, Michael Langdon slowly slipped in the back of your mind.

It wasn't until there was a knock on your hotel door bright in early on Halloween. Winter groaned from beside you, her small body cuddling into yours when you tried to leave.

"It's fucking cold, stop," Winter moaned.

"Someone is here, Winter," you groaned, throwing the covers from your body when they knocked again. Your M&M socks were slipping off your feet as you opened the door, revealing Iris.

"Good morning!" she gushed, her voice way too peppy for this time of day. You blinked at her, knowing you looked like hell with your band t-shirt, dull sweats, and orange socks.

"Is everything alright?" you immediately asked, crossing your arms over your chest. It really is cold in here. You could feel your nipples getting hard, and you tried to hide your laugh.

"Mr. Langdon asked me to drop this off," she said, shoving a white envelope in your direction. You took it, feeling the thickness and frowning. "He says it's a treat."

"What?-"

"Have a good day!" she insisted, before leaving you standing in the doorway.

You stood there with a comical look on your face, before quietly shutting the door and locking it. Winter had since sat up, her brown eyes frowning at you as you carefully opened the envelope.

A white slip of paper caught your eye first, before the thick wad of cash behind it. You gasped, pulling it out altogether.

"HOLY SHIT!" Winter said, shoving the blankets off her before scrambling to stand beside you. You counted the money; there was quickly a few thousand in your hands.

"I KNOW-" you gasped. You had never seen this much money in your life, at least in person. "He left a note..."

"Read it," Winter urged, taking the money and feeling it up, "This is hot in a really bizarre way."

Ms. l/n,

Please take this offering to buy yourself some new clothes, preferably for dinner tonight. I took the liberty of ordering food from a nearby restaurant. I do not believe you'd find the menu here satisfactory, trust me.

Meet me at the penthouse at 8 PM sharp. This is very important, not a minute before or less. You may find some less than impressive guests if you do.

Oh, I almost forgot - you keep what you buy. Spend it wisely.

Sincerely,

M.L

You sat on the edge of the bed as Winter read the note to herself. Your jaw was almost to the floor as you had forgotten about your plans for tonight. It was fun the other night when you met him, but now you were nervous.

"This is amazing," Winter gasped excitedly. "But wait, why do you look like that?" she asked.

"How in the hell am I supposed to have dinner with him tonight? He's so-"

"Weirdly arousing and complex?" Winter grinned, mocking Liz's words from the other night. "Girl, I'll gladly take your place if you're going to chicken out, who in their right mind would do this for you back home?"

You stuffed everything back into the envelope before you both settled back into bed. "Maybe that means he is crazy, and I'm doing myself a favor," you mumbled.

"First off, he is hot. Second, it's just dinner, if he is willing to pay for you to get a new dress, well..." Winter pulled the covers up to her nose, "Maybe that means he is a keeper, y/n,"

You both laid there in silence before you caught up on sleep. You woke up again closer to ten, and you stayed under the covers on your phone while Winter took a shower first. You scrolled through Instagram, Tumblr, and TikTok, seeking out the ones that reminded you most of Vine.

You tried to distract yourself from the anxiety bubbling in your belly. Michael Langdon intimidated you; everything about him seemed so reserved and poised. From the way he spoke, to how he walked, and you had to admit, his wardrobe was on-point.

"I'll just get drunk before I go up there." you joked to yourself as you passed the fifth video of spoiled New Yorkers seeing Beetlejuice for the eightieth time.

Since you and Winter weren't familiar with the higher-ups in the fashion department, you did a lot of Googling as you walked down the streets of Los Angeles. The Hotel Cortez felt like an icebox compared to the weather out here. Most of the stores that you passed or glanced through seemed to cater specifically to prom dresses and other school formals.

You stopped into a particular store that seemed too over budget. Winter couldn't help but gush at their selection of bridal gowns in the back of the store, and as you pulled her away, your mouth even watered at the beautiful dresses in front of you.

"I'm not getting married, Winter," you snorted as you dragged her back into the streets.

You both stopped a Starbucks, sitting down and resting as you chug your drink. "I'm about to give up," you sighed.

"We've only been out for- two hours," Winter replied sheepishly. "Come on, you have three-grand in your pockets, we'll find something."

"Everything here is kind of weird," you frowned, thinking of the four-thousand dollar dress you saw that barely covered the crotch of the mannequin wearing it. "Plus, who can afford to spend four-grand on a dress?"

"Think about it this way," Winter pointed at you, "Michael saw you wearing clothes from Forever 21. Maybe he figured you liked the simple things,"

You know how to stretch a buck when your paychecks were smaller than usual. Michael did say buy something for tonight, but...

"How will I bring all of the clothes back home?" you asked.

"We'll worry about that later, and let's get the fuck out of here, I can barely hear myself think."

It was more comfortable for you to go into stores you were more familiar with. You bought new jeans, new shirts, and dresses to wear once the weather warmed up again back home.

By the time you were finished, you still had about $2,400 in your wallet. You let Winter pick out some things too. It made you feel bad about going on a shopping spree without her.

"I wonder if this is what it feels like to have a sugar daddy!" Winter all but yelled in the sea of people passing you in the street. You threw your head back and laughed.

"I guess we need to find ourselves one," you joked.

"Okay, but Michael, I mean- The Count," Winter rolled her eyes, "Is totally sugar daddy material, is he not?"

"Is he even old enough? He's like thirty-four, when I think of them, I imagine someone in their sixties or something," you stated.

"He's older, and he gives you money for nice things, so I'd say he most certainly qualifies," Winter said, continuing to talk when a mannequin caught your eye.

You stopped dead in your tracks, not caring when the person behind you cursed when he bumped into you. Winter finally realized you weren't by her side, waltzing over with a confused look on her face.

The red cocktail dress stared back at you, the silk taffeta material almost glowing under the light above it. The neckline plunged, leaving little to the imagination. You didn't care, though.

"Do you see a price tag?" you asked.

"I think that's it-" Winter said, leaning in closer, "-holy shiiii-"

The store owner must have caught you two gawking, because the door swung open, revealing a small man with a shaved head beaming at the two of you. "Are you ladies enjoying the view?" he joked.

"Yes, I love this dress," you said, pointing at it. He seemed pleased as he looked you up and down.

"I think this calls for a fitting! My name is Ted, come on in," he said.

Needless to say, spending 2,300 on a dress was strangely rewarding.

You got into the elevator at 7:57.

It slowly rose to the top, and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You had many floors to go, and you looked at yourself in the mirrored wall.

Winter had pinned your hair back, before coloring your eyes and lips in a similar shade of red to your dress. You admired your boobs, hoping he wouldn't be too put off by them. You never really dressed like this; hoodies and sweaters were some of your favorites. It felt good to show off your body; you felt beautiful. Like you accepted yourself for who you were, even if it was over by the end of the night.

You ran a hand along your belly, sighing deeply as you felt like you were going to vomit.

it's just dinner, you'll be fine.

The elevator slowly came to a stop, the doors slowly sliding open. You looked around, seeing you were already inside of his place. You could hear gentle music playing in the background; you hid your smile when you heard Lady Gaga singing.

"Hello?" You called out, your voice meek. When you stepped out, you realized how much warmer this room was compared to the rest of the hotel. If it were any warmer, you'd probably think you were about to enter the deepest pits of Hell.

"Ms. l/n, how lovely to see you,"

You jumped, looking to see Langdon slowly making his way to you, his hands behind his back. In perfect pose, like always. The view behind him told you he just came from his bedroom.

You were at a loss for words, much to his amusement.

"Interesting..." he said as he observed you with a slight tilt to his head. "I admire your choice of color, the red compliments your eyes," Michael said.

"Thank you, uhh-"

"You can call me Michael," he said firmly. "I hope you used my offering wisely, I'd hate to think all that went to waste."

His blue eyes bore holes into your skull as you instinctively went to push your hair behind your ear until remembered it was pinned back. You dropped your hand with a shy grin. "It was nice, thank you."

Michael continued to stare at you like he couldn't seem to figure you out. You watched as his perfect brow twitched as if he were hiding his true expression from you. You swallowed, turning to admire the rest of his space. Like the lobby, red seemed to be a favorite in his repertoire.

Almost like a ghost, you could feel his presence directly behind you. A gasp caught in your throat as you felt the fabric of his expensive dinner jacket brush against your bare arm. A small glass of wine. You took it from him, bringing it to your nose where you gently inhaled.

Amusement flickered in his eyes as he watched your childish action. He had a glass in his own hand, but it definitely wasn't wine.

"Iris is bringing dinner at 8:30," he explained, watching your eyes flutter as you took a sip. It tasted terrific, you wondered where it was from. But you never asked. "Sit, y/n," Michael pointed to the expansive couch behind you.

You chose a cushion, Michael sinking into one just a bit farther down. You found yourself taking bigger sips of wine; it was almost addictive, the taste. Michael brought his glass to his lips, draining it quickly, before he set it down, his tongue slowly licking along his lip. You stared at it.

"y/n," he sighed. You loved the way your name rolled off his tongue. Michael suddenly smirked, his eyes slowly meeting yours. "Tell me about yourself."

You cleared your throat. You always found this to be awkward; what was really interesting about your life compared to his? Yet, you told him a little about your life back home. Your job, your education, your friendship with Winter, and how important she was to you.

Michael didn't say a word the entire time. He watched you intently, almost like he was entranced by you. Your voice, your past, your hopes, and dreams. It brought you comfort; you felt like someone was listening to you out of pure interest, and not to be kind.

"I think that's enough about me," you said awkwardly. Once again, his eyes crinkled with amusement. "It's your turn."

Almost as if on cue, the elevator slid open. Iris and Liz stepped out, pushing a large tray of food. Michael immediately stood up, his eyes piercing through you as you slowly did the same.

"Dinner is served, my beauties," Liz said excitedly, pushing the cart towards the two of you. Michael rolled his eyes, but you could see the playfulness in his actions.

"Thank you, Liz. Iris." He said, looking at her like she had all the answers in the world. Iris shrugged, waving him off as they set the table for you two.

You looked at your empty glass, before looking up at Michael, "Michael-"

"Of course, y/n," he said. He took the glass from you, his fingers brushing yours. He was a little cold to the touch.

Michael got you some more wine as you pondered how he could have possibly known what you were about to ask.

"Is there anything else I can do?" Iris asked as Liz wheeled the cart back to the elevator, waiting patiently.

"Not at all, I will call when we're finished," Michael said, handing you back the glass.

Iris nodded, turning, and meeting Liz. Before the elevator doors shut, Liz winked at you.

Without a word, Michael walked to a chair, gesturing for you to sit. You walked over and took a seat as he gently pushed you in. Michael placed a hand on your shoulder, his rings softly digging into your skin. There was something erotic about the way he moved his hands, so fluid and sexual.

"You seem tense, y/n," he mocked, and you could imagine the smirk on his lips. You shook your head, pressing your thighs together as you tried to forget the handsome man standing behind you.

"I'm just hungry," you said lamely. You felt his fingers gently curl into you before releasing.

"As you should be." He said before his hands left you. Michael walked around the table, sitting across from you. The distance between you was small, you could nudge his leg with your toes.

Michael's glass was full, as he watched you expectantly. The food smelled delicious, your belly softly rumbling as you glanced at him.

"Don't wait for me, precious," Michael said, pressing his fingers together. Your cheeks slightly burned at the nickname, before slowly picking up your silverware.

After a few bites, Michael finally started to eat. You remained mostly silent, enjoying the food. Your foot gently bobbed along to the music.

can you light the fire

i need somebody who can take control

"You never told me about your life," you pointed out. Michael glanced at you, taking a sip of his drink, a mischievous look in his eyes.

"I told you how old I am." He smirked.

"Come on, Michael. I spilled my whole life story to you, now it's your turn." You glared at him.

"Very well," he said. "I was born in December of 1985. My parents were in the process of getting divorced. I had a twin, but he was stillborn," Michael said. His tone hardly wavered, neither did the look in his eyes. He seemed almost content. "My mother was devastated, she blamed me for years for his death. I was too strong, I overshadowed my brother, and he never stood a chance."

You had stopped eating, wondering if you should have even asked in the first place. "Michael..."

"I like honesty, y/n," Michael stated. He looked directly in your eyes, "Do you disagree?"

You slowly shook your head. "No..."

"Great." He ran a finger along the rim of his glass, the diamonds on his rings shining from the light. "She killed herself when I was ten. My father couldn't afford to raise me on his own, so we moved here. That's when I met Iris. She became my second mother, took me in like I was her own. Eventually, my dad abandoned me without a word of warning. He died two years ago under mysterious circumstances." Michael said coldly.

You felt a pang in your chest, and you instinctively raised a hand to your eyes to make sure you weren't crying. Michael stared at his plate, his eyes forming into slits.

"After the original owner died, I took over. I made some investments, great ones, in fact. Now I own the hotel with all the money anyone would ever need. I take care of my family, and they take care of me."

Your food had grown cold by the time he finished.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize how painful your past has been, Michael."

You were surprised to see him smile. Michael showed no signs of arrogance, just genuine appreciation. "I tend to keep the painful memories to myself, y/n. Your kindness has just opened up my vulnerability."

After dinner, you and Michael had moved back to the couch. After a few more glasses of wine, you were more talkative.

Iris had cleared the plates before leaving you alone. Michael listened to you talk about your favorite things and what you despised most.

For someone who wasn't that much older than you, give or take, he was very wise. If his dialect wasn't example enough, Michael's real thoughts and opinions were of an old soul. The hours slowly ticked by, and before you knew it, you were leaning against his side.

"I find you to be fascinating, y/n," Michael said. Your hair had slowly started to unravel, and he eventually released it all together. He wouldn't admit it to you, but he loved the way it framed your face. And your neck.

"You don't think I'm just some boring twenty-something?" You teased. Michael smiled.

"Not at all."

You glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearing 2 AM.

"Holy fuck," you said. Michael snickered at your language but didn't comment. "I didn't realize how late it was."

"You're more than welcome to leave, y/n," he said, but his words seemed rather forced. "You don't have to stay on my behalf."

You could feel yourself becoming tired. Yet, you were very much enjoying this. Michael was a breath of fresh air. Everything you said, you didn't feel scrutinized. Michael liked to hear you talk, to hear about the things you were most passionate about. He listened to you.

You weren't drunk, just a little tipsy. You tilted your head at him, "Michael, how are you as single as a pringle?"

Michael frowned at you before a deep, genuine laugh echoed from his chest. You blinked at him.

"y/n, I'm very particular about my women," he said quietly. "I was a teenager once, you know. I made many mistakes, just like you, just like everyone else. I have my guard up more than most. You understand."

Michael was right, you understood perfectly.

"You talk like you're from an old Hollywood movie. It's kind of hot." You blurted out.

Michael brought a hand to your cheek. You leaned into his touch, his fingertips gently moving along your cheek, tracing over your nose before setting on your painted lips. Most of it had worn off by now, but neither you nor Michael cared.

"My sweet, sweet y/n," he whispered. "I certainly don't fuck like one."

You felt your thighs clench as he tilted his head at you. Michael's blue eyes observed you before a smirk slowly crossed his lips.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, y/n," he teased. His finger left your lips before they trailed down the side of your neck. He grabbed your throat, applying just enough pressure that left you a whining mess. "I think you've been hiding your arousal from me all night." He frowned, "At least, that's what you seem to think."

Michael observed you quietly, your hand slowly coming up to touch his as he continued holding your throat. He was amused by the sight of you.

"I could almost smell you," he growled before he lifted you like you weighed nothing. You sat on his lap, his knee knocking your legs out of the way. Your dress rode up on your thighs, revealing the red underwear underneath. It was nothing fancy, just comfortable.

Michael pressed his nose to your ear, adjusting his grip on you as you squirmed in his lap. "I like you, y/n. You're very bright, not quite like others I have encountered..." he pressed a kiss to your earlobe. "Yet, one thing always remains the same."

You slowly stuttered out, "And what's that?"

Michael chuckled in your ear, the sound husky. His free hand slowly slipped under your panties, running his fingers through your folds, before finding your clit like it was nothing. You gasped, a quiet moan escaping your throat as your hips bucked towards his hand.

"You girls want to be impaled on my thick cock, isn't that right?" Michael mewled in your ear. He still teased you as his hand was in your underwear, you pouted.

Michael released your throat, your body immediately sucking in air as he unzipped the back of your dress, allowing it to bunch at your waist. You helped him slide it off, you now clad only in your panties.

You could feel his hardness rubbing against your ass.

Michael removed his hand from your clit, making you sigh in frustration. He tsked at you, pulling your back flush against his chest as he carefully slid his fingers inside of you.

"You don't have to be greedy, y/n," he scolded. "I love having my fingers inside your sweet pussy. You take them so well, baby," he sighed into your ear.

Michael continued to finger you as you moaned and squirmed above him. No matter how many times he gently scolded you for moving too much, you couldn't stop.

"Michael, I'm so close," you whined.

"I never said you could come, y/n," he shook his head. "Be a good girl, bad girl's get punished if they misbehave,"

You whined as his fingers curled inside of you. Your arm slowly wove around his neck, gasping his name as you tried to fight off your impending orgasm.

"My precious girl," Michael purred before his fingers slid out of you.

The whine that left your mouth was loud. Michael laughed at your distress, his hand sliding from your panties entirely. He stuck them in your mouth mid grunt, making you shut up.

"Make them spotless, y/n," Michael said sternly. "Let's see how well you use that tongue before I stick my cock in your mouth."

You sucked his fingers, purposely being as loud as you can. Your tongue ran along his digits, tasting your arousal, before the sweet taste of Michael. When he seemed satisfied with your efforts, he pulled them out, forcing you to stand up.

You had no idea how Michael shed his clothes so quickly. Before you knew it, he was pulling you on top of his body. Your eyes widened at the sight of his dick in front of your face. Your knees resting on either side of his head as he ran his big hands along your ass.

"If you be a good girl, I may let you come, precious," Michael stated before you felt his tongue slowly circling your clit.

The sensation caused you to gasp, temporarily buckling your elbows as you struggled to stay above him. Michael kept a tight grip on you, your belly laying directly on his. Perhaps that meant your weight was no bother to him.

You gripped his shaft in your hand, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he slowly dragged his tongue along your slit. Michael moaned against you, causing your legs to tremble from the pleasure he was giving you.

You licked the tip before slowly taking him into your mouth. Michael hummed his approval from underneath you. He was thick, and you could feel your mouth burning as you opened as wide as you could.

Michael slowly rutted his hips to meet your mouth, both of you groaning as he slipped further into your mouth, and then Michael sliding his tongue into your tiny hole. You weren't that experienced in this predicament; you were afraid of neglecting Michael as he blissfully ate you out.

After a while, your legs started to quake as Michael spread you out wider. His back arched from the couch as he chased your pussy when it started to become too much. His hands gripped your ass tightly, shaking his head against you as you released him from your mouth to scream his name.

Michael's tongue gently lapped at your clit as you came down from your orgasm. His tongue curled against your dripping hole, gathering your juices while he slurped you up.

"Michael," you moaned. He pressed kisses along your folds, before trailing along your thighs. You continued to stroke his cock, feeling his own body tensing up beneath you.

"I better come in your fucking mouth, y/n," he asserted. You felt him make your ass, causing you to yelp. "You're going to swallow every last drop."

You took him back into your mouth as he released your ass. Michael kept his hands on your thighs, stroking them softly as you took him in as far as he would go. Your mascara ran down your cheeks as his girth stretched your mouth to ridiculous lengths.

"That's it, baby," he whined. You fought the urge to smile against him. Michael Langdon, whining because of you. His dominant hand came back to your pussy, feeling for your clit. You were still sensitive, your legs jerking as he starting stimulating you. Again.

You groaned in disapproval.

"After I come in your sweet mouth, you're going to sit on my cock, precious."

A few more jerks of your hand had him falling apart beneath you. You felt him spurt deep into your throat, your eyes closing at the feeling. Michael slowly circled your clit as he came, sighing deeply when you sucked him clean.

"FUCK!" he called out. Michael maneuvered you off him, before standing up after you. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you in for a kiss.

Michael took your breath away, the taste of you on each other's lips. You felt him bite your bottom lip, before moaning into your mouth. His hands slid along your body, playing with your breasts, ghosting over your arms, just feeling you.

Michael took a seat, bringing you down onto his lap. You brought him in for a kiss this time, smiling as he carefully helped you slide onto him.

You felt him in your belly, gasping and breaking the kiss as you settled onto his thighs. Michael leaned back against the couch, his blonde hair frizzled out as he gazed at you with admiration.

He didn't say anything as you adjusted to him, his hands roaming your skin freely. The playlist in the room had long stopped, leaving you two in silence, save for the pants and whimpers.

Once you were comfortable, you bounced on his lap. Michael allowed you to take control at first, his lips sucking your nipples into his mouth as you run your hands through his soft hair.

"Your pussy is so fucking tight for me, y/n," he grunted. You pulled his mouth from your breasts, silently begging him to pay attention to the sensitive skin on your neck. He obliged, biting and leaving delicate kisses to your slick skin. He left his mark on you, eventually grabbing your hips again to pound into you.

"Oh, f-fuck!" You gasped, "Michael, Michael, Michael,"

His hips were smacking against you at an almost inhuman pace. His face remained buried in your neck, leaving multiple love bites as he growled into your skin.

"You better come before I do, baby," Michael warned. "You want to come, don't you, baby?" He mocked you. He released one of his hands, reaching back to bunch your hair in his hand, before yanking it. Your chest arched into his, gasping as he exposed your neck to him.

"P-please, Michael..." you whimpered as he kept up his relentless pace.

"I'm fucking close, y/n. You better come all over my dick, precious. Show me who this pussy belongs to."

The next few thrusts of his hips had you coming all over him. Your wetness dribbled down your thighs, onto his and the cushions beneath you.

You unintentionally squeezed his dick, your muscles contracting so tightly that Michael nearly lost his breath as he came inside of you. He slowly moved you along his shaft, making sure you completely coated him.

He brought his lips to yours again, his hands cupping your cheek as you kissed. You stayed in that position for a few minutes, before he gently removed you from his lap to place you beside him. You gasped as you no longer felt full.

Michael spread your legs, his eyes on yours as he slowly ate you out for a second time. You mewled from how sensitive you were. Just like the first time, Michael kept a firm grip on you as he lapped up his cum leaking out of you. You ran a hand through his hair, sighing his name as he pressed his nose onto your clit.

When he was finished, he pulled you close to him, his head resting on your breasts. You both were exhausted.

"We should have done this a few days ago." You whispered, thinking of your ride back home.

"We still have time," he whispered. "I hope your friend doesn't expect to see you until then."

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moonlightwinterdxxix · 5 years ago

Note

Here again with a story idea 😂 A day where all the brothers have plans for to go out but there's sudden expected construction work outside their house so they literally can't leave?!? (Let's assume the Matsu parents didn't think their NEETS really had anything to do outdoors that day so they didn't bother to informing them about it haha) Maybe either a hilarious series of escape events or forced family bonding time? 😂

Ah, @yisongye Here it is!! 😂😂 I hope you enjoy my interpretation of this very interesting 2020 experience 🤣🤣🤣

~~~

The bedroom door slid open and slammed against the wall, and he screamed out, “Hey, guys! Guess what!”

Karamatsu raised his chin from the hand mirror, smirking. “Yes, my dear older brother Osomatsu? What might you have upon you as to call for your excitement?”

“There’s this really big gamble that’s gonna happen in Pachinko today from a visitor!” Osomatsu informed, a pair of fists rocking in his exhilaration. “And here’s the big deal: she’s a chick! A very pretty one too! I have no idea what she would want as a penalty aside from money but I’m dead-set on challenging her!” Osomatsu flushed, sultry in a green fantasy. “Ooh man, oh boy, I’m not just gonna give her a run on her money! I’m gonna challenge her into having s** with me!” He laughed maniacally, a predator’s villainous cackle.

Todomatsu scoffed in amusement, rolling his eyes. “Well, try as hard as you want. You’ll never succeed—you’ll be a virgin NEET forever.” He angled his phone, checking himself in the selfie feature of his camera. “On the other hand, there’s a very nice girl that Atsushi informed me will come to the mixer. I’m planning on going out to buy myself a nice new jacket later so I can look nicer come Friday. There is a sale at the mall, after all, so I wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Can that beat my luck though?” Choromatsu boasted, popping the collar of his green shirt. “I managed to get VIP passes to Nyaa-chan’s concert. So all of you might be hopeful, but I’m meeting my cat idol in a few hours. So weep in your misery, everyone. Your Choromatsu is going forth into another world.”

“Heh,” Karamatsu retorted, narrowing a perpetually theatrical gaze. “Might I remind you first, my brother. Fap none of the dazzling women that might catch your eye, no? Set a good example to all of your brothers, non?”

With his smile wilting, Choromatsu sputtered as his face went rosy. “Wh-Wh—You shut the hell up, Shittymatsu! I know stuff, you moron!”

“Heh! Good for you, brother! For my luck shines upon me like it came from heaven itself!” Karamatsu flashed them his teeth, touching an eyebrow with two fingers. “You see, my brother, my day too flows with the passionate love from Akatsuka-sensei himself! Today I have been welcomed passage into the core of Akatsuka Ward itself, and I am to meet with a lady of whom I blind date for us was set! Hm, I thank Chibita for his kind heart, how could I have known that he would know such a precious soul—BOEHH!”

Ichimatsu slammed the back of Karamatsu’s head with an unplugged iron, and Karamatsu tumbled down onto the floor. “I bet your sorry ass that you’ll be meeting up with a dishwasher, you piece of crap.”

Jyushimatsu hollered out, “As fun as meeting with girls sounds nice, me and Ichi-nii decided to go to Sealand instead! There’s this annual dolphin show that happens every so often, and after attending it once I decided to invite him to the next one! I spent my entire allowance on getting us front-row tickets, so he has a nice experience when watching the show! The dolphins are always trained so well, once I had a dream of wanting to be one too.”

Ichimatsu grinned slightly, amused. “Hm, and after that I’ll be taking Jyushimatsu to the cat shelter. I’ve made an appointment to adopt one of the cats there—Mom and Dad already let me. She’s a very young one, about two months old, found beside a river where she almost drowned. I felt bad for her and decided to keep her so she doesn’t drown herself again. Her name’s Kawa, and she’s a plain white one. I hope she likes it here at the household with me.”

“Awwww~” the collective chorus of his brothers cooed lovingly, and Ichimatsu flushed bright pink and turned away with his hands smashed to his ears.

“Shut up! Stop shedding attention to my shitty life!” Ichimatsu exclaimed miserably.

“Either way, it seems that all of us have plans for today,” Choromatsu laughed, over from his former humiliation as he shrugged his backpack on entirely. “Anyway I need to go now. The arena could get pretty crowded if I came in much later than twelve.”

Osomatsu darted his gaze to the clock to Choromatsu then back again. “But it’s eight-thirty.”

“The earlier the better.” Choromatsu lifted his shoulders, chuckling. “Perhaps I can eat lunch while waiting too. Can’t watch a concert with an empty stomach. We need energy for screaming at the top of our lungs.”

“As if you don’t do that everyday already,” Osomatsu murmured, but remained unheard.

To Choromatsu, “Yeah, I agree,” Todomatsu said, standing up from the couch and patting his pants. “I’d better get to the mall early before it gets too crowded. I mean, sales are still sales, aren’t they? I don’t wanna be stuck in a traffic of people before I see something pretty.” He directed himself towards the cabinet and rummaged through the pockets of one of his hoodies, grabbing his wallet and stashing it into his current pants. “Yep. Imma go for now. See you all later?”

“Yeah, sure!” Jyushimatsu exclaimed, waving. “Later! Have fun!”

“Kiss Reika for me, okay, Fappymatsu?” Osomatsu derided, the curves of his features smug.

Choromatsu scoffed in reply as Todomatsu tittered, and then the bedroom door shut as Choromatsu and Todomatsu exited.

A minute passed.

And then...

“EEEHHH???!!!”

The rest of the Matsuno household were already out the bedroom and down the stairs, sliding into sudden halts as they saw Choromatsu and Todomatsu frozen in front of their door. They were both with mouths so rounded that their jaws were on the floor, their eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. Their fingers were spread out from their hands at their sides, legs parted.

“Totty? What’s wrong?” But then all the other four were soon to realize it, and with matching, elongated yells all six were better classified with the term ‘identical’ as they all sported the same gawking, disbelieved expressions.

In front of their front door, the ground was a literal swimming pool of wet cement. Across that, there were careless-of-them construction workers with complete top-volume cranes and drillers, the workers saluting each other and bearing wide blueprints as long as a man was tall. This occupied the front porch all the way to their gate, nearly tore down completely, now granting the brothers a perfect view of Matsuyo and Matsuzo as they stared at their own sons, a pair of shopping bags dangling from their mother’s arms.

“Wh...” The first with a voice managing to come out his lips, Choromatsu averted his gaze to their parents. “Mom?! What in bloody hell is this?!”

“Ah, that!” Matsuyo laughed, unbothered in the slightest by the unexpected construction. “It’s just a bit of construction, my NEETs! I didn’t think I needed to tell you since you can handle yourselves, but never mind that! Don’t worry! It’ll only be about three days until you can go outside the house again.”

“Three days?!” Osomatsu exclaimed, face contorting in horror. “But that sexy-chick gambler will leave the city in three days!”

After shooting his brother a pointed look, Karamatsu yelled out the more proper response to their mother’s statement, “How are we supposed to leave the house?! And how are you two getting back in?!”

“Ah, don’t worry about us,” Matsuzo said, chuckling lightheartedly. “We booked a stay at the hotel about a week ago because we knew about this. Plus we bought a ton of groceries last week, so the fridge was practically an entire factory of sushi and takoyaki. I’m still surprised that there was only about a shelf left of it before we left the house three hours ago.”

“Th-That was our storage?!” Todomatsu sputtered. “Our food?!”

“Gee, I wonder where all of it went,” Ichimatsu sarcastically drawled, maliciously digging a dagger-sharp gaze against Jyushimatsu, who had gone from pale to red in a matter of seconds through the transition of realization to shame.

“No, we can’t survive this!” Osomatsu protested, gesturing wildly at the commotion lining each space of their front. “Mom! Dad! This is worse than suicide! No, we need to get out of this house! You can’t expect us to stay locked in here the entire three days, do you?! We’re your sons! You know that!”

“And we’re your parents,” Matsuyo retorted, her glare making Osomatsu and his brothers all shrink. “And you know well enough that we hate it when you have no consciences. This is punishment for illegally performing on the streets a month ago just to get money for a fish sale for Totoko’s sake! Grow up! Cod, you’re all a bunch of oversized children. You’re lucky we still gave you a storage of takoyaki.” Turning her nose up, she said, “Let’s go, Matsuzo-dear. We have that specialized screening on that one movie, right?”

“Of course, darling,” Matsuzo said devilishly, internally guffawing at his son’s anxieties. “Shall we?” He extended his arm.

“My pleasure.”

All six began yelling in unison as their parents began walking away, striding off with the pride of victory and the blessing of their lack of child tomfoolery. The brothers all tumbled down defeatedly on the floor, groaning in exasperation. It was Jyushimatsu who remained standing, mind calculative as his pupils dilated and his mouth was covered by a hand. Then...

“I think I can make that jump.”

“Ah, I see you wanna die early,” Todomatsu chortled groggily, unimpressed. “Ichimatsu-niisan, take notes. Your medal’s been snatched.”

“No!” Jyushimatsu contradicted. “I think I can make that jump! Then when I do, I’ll get all of you a ladder or something so you can get across.”

“Sure, I believe you,” Osomatsu said casually, pouting. “You’re the same guy who can turn into a living Jyushimatsu virus. If you can jump that gorge of death then go for it.”

“Idiots, it won’t work,” Choromatsu finalized, crossing his arms. “He won’t make it. Trust me.”

~~~

“Or not. Of course. I rest my case.”

Preparing himself, Jyushimatsu bent his legs.

“On three, Jyushimatsu,” Ichimatsu announced. “One...two...three!”

Jyushimatsu bolted, and with the speed of a fictional being he raced across the entire room until his feet were no longer on the ground, and he was hovering in the air, his shadow overlapping gray as his form paralleled the top of their doorframe. He was only by the first half of the entire cement pool when gravity played its part and tugged him downwards.

With his arms up, Jyushimatsu yelled out a stainless “BOEHBAA!!”, only stopping when a cross-crossed surface dug into his butt and he was pulled back into the house.

And dropped on the floor with a thud, tilting his head towards Todomatsu and the butterfly net he had in his hands. “Thanks, Totty.”

“I told you it won’t work,” Choromatsu grouched.

“Work or not, where was this butterfly net from?” Todomatsu questioned, scratching his head in confusion.

Jyushimatsu said, “I also got it from Dayon’s stomach.”

Todomatsu immediately panicked, dropping the net and struggling for the closest sink.

“Aha! I have a new plan!” Karamatsu extolled, spreading his arms wide. “My brothers, this plan of mine is guaranteed to entrance our grand exit! Be amazed, my brothers! We shall be able to access our hopes and dreams on finding the romance, enjoyment, and entertainment that our lives have waited for! My brothers, join me!” He began spinning around dramatically, a hand sailing to his back pocket for a rain of rose petals that he sprayed over the floor. “Grab a pen, and wonderful stationary. We are writing letters.”

Everyone stared at him dumbfounded, except for Ichimatsu, who bluntly said, “Kill me now.”

Minutes later, all six of them were gathered around the living room table, color-coded papers assigned to each brother. At the center of the table was a pack of markers, as well as some glitters none of them (but Karamatsu, apparently) knew they even had. At the head of the table, Karamatsu smirked at them, a finger-gun connected to his jawline as his sunglasses hid his dancing eyes. “Now, pick up a pen,” he instructed.

They all did, grabbing the marker colored with the hue of the sibling closest to them. Karamatsu picked last, raising his pink marker. “Step two, revisit your talents in mastery. Perfect, swooping calligraphy, as a dazzling prince such as us possesses.”

“Bro, I failed art class because of calligraphy,” Osomatsu deadpanned.

“Now,” Karamatsu pronounced as if no one had spoken, “Take the tip of your pen to the page. Then with the watery softness of a fountain, draw the letter ‘I’.”

Though hesitant, everyone followed.

“Good, my brothers. Next, add a space. Then, the letter ‘L’.”

They obeyed.

“Brothers, the letter ‘O’.”

They complied.

“The letter ‘V—”

“Karamatsu-niisan, what’s the message you’re making us write?” Choromatsu asked bluntly.

“Um...” Karamatsu made a heart with his hands, smiling boldly, “It will say, ‘I love you, dear cement! Please let us pass through your jinxes, allow us passage because you reciprocate my feelings to you!’ Oh, brother, the ground will harden almost immediately because of passion! I can see her heart beating from our kindness! Oh, brother, my brother, it shall make her weep tears of rock that would melt into a river of the soul! I see it, brother! It shall work, brother!” He was dancing in his reverie, nearly crying. “Oh, brother, my brother, sweet brother—BOEH!”

He collapsed on the ground, and Ichimatsu dropped his fist. “How about, ‘Brother, shut the eff up’.”

“Ugh, this sucks!” Todomatsu whined, tossing his paper away. “You’re all stupid and useless! Now I’m never gonna be able to look attractive enough for the new girl.” He buried his head in his arms on the table. “It’s hopeless for me. I need to be stuck with a bunch of ‘overgrown children’ until Atsushi sweeps her off her feet.”

“No.” Osomatsu stood up, all serious. Everyone looked at him. “There’s still hope. I think there’s one more thing we can do before we can say that we failed.”

Choromatsu lackadaisically suggested, “Request the construction workers for a way across?”

“Even better.” Osomatsu straightened his body, chin up, spine vertical. “Everyone. Off to the roof.”

Silence (...)...

“...eh?”

It was even louder on the roof than outside, because the entire view was there to present itself. The machines were huge, matted with soil and cement, some of the yellow on the bodies faded or whitened. Five of the six of them watched the entire thing with fearful anticipation, the giants in front of their house like dragons hovering over a field of lava. Whatever plan this Osomatsu-niisan of theirs had, it had better be worth it. Because so far, it looked like death was going to be the option here if it weren’t success.

“Boys,” Osomatsu announced, hands on his waist. “It’s time. Jyushimatsu, come here.”

Gulping, Jyushimatsu didn’t protest as he allowed himself to be led by his oldest brother, scarily close to the edge of the roof. Sweat ran down the sides of his face, his legs trembling in his discomfort. But he stayed there with his hands at his sides, staring straight and down towards the valley of Tartarus below.

“Karamatsu, come here,” Osomatsu instructed, and with the same worrisome posture Karamatsu stepped next to his eldest and fifth-born brother. “Karamatsu, go over Jyushimatsu’s shoulders.”

Karamatsu sputtered, and Choromatsu let out a “NO!” louder than the entire construction company combined.

But Choromatsu was ignored as Karamatsu timidly climbed onto Jyushimatsu’s back, and rested his thighs over Jyushimatsu’s shoulders. Both of them were perspired and horrified, already awaiting doom before a signal can even be clarified. Jyushimatsu clasped Karamatsu’s legs like it was giving him reassurance, but the threat of failure was still too strong for that.

“Ichimatsu, you next!” Osomatsu called out, and Ichimatsu greenly approached the building tower with his chin dipped and his eyes sullen. Internally, he was mouthing his last will and testament.

But he climbed nonetheless onto Karamatsu’s shoulders.

“Okay, my turn.” Osomatsu climbed onto Ichimatsu’s shoulders, and the weight began tugging down on Jyushimatsu as a wobble began to wrack their brother building. Hands grabbed legs, butts nestled tightly against napes, and lips went pressed as three of them stifled the screams that were growing in their throats.

“Choromatsu! You’re up!”

“This is dangerous, you idiot eldest!” Choromatsu reprimanded, arms wide for emphasis. “No more kidding—you’re literally trying to kill us!”

“Wouldn’t you die for Nyaa-chan?” Osomatsu inquired calmly.

Choromatsu was up over Osomatsu’s shoulders ten seconds later.

“Finally! Totty!”

On top of the tower, Todomatsu shook harshly as he grabbed the sides of Choromatsu’s head for dear life, legs intertwined over Choromatsu’s chest. Actually, most of them were like that. The only exception was the oldest brother, as determined as an eagle, staring straight through the obstacles separating him from making out with a beautiful gambling girl.

“Jyushimatsu, on three, run back, and then jump.”

“We’re gonna die,” Ichimatsu rasped with a plastic smile.

“Yup,” Karamatsu agreed in a tiny voice.

“On three, Jyushimatsu,” Osomatsu repeated, fiercer, and Jyushimatsu stepped back, all his brothers doing the same with the connections binding them in that formation. Jyushimatsu’s legs were shuddering. The pores on his skin were leaking.

“One...two...THREE!!!”

Eyes shut, Jyushimatsu made his run and jumped.

A few seconds later, at the other side of the gate, there were six bodies lying on the streets they’ve cracked, car horns roaring angrily in the traffic they caused.

~~~

Matsuyo tapped her feet. “I don’t think I need to scold you anymore. You know very well what you’ve done, right?” She crossed her arms, tilted her chin. “And because of that, there won’t be any more takoyaki. Not just because you absolutely don’t deserve it anymore, but because we can’t afford it.”

“Eh? Why not?” Osomatsu asked, then whimpered when he tried to move his head a little. With a full body cast matching those of his brothers’, there was no twitching a pinkie nor a strand of hair on the hospital beds.

“Not only because I have six sons confined with full body casts following surgery,” Matsuyo said madly, “but because of the damage! Not only did you break almost every bone in your body but you broke the road itself! There’s gonna be so much construction in front of our house now and guess what! We are the ones who need to pay for it!”

“Are we that fat?” Karamatsu sobbed.

“Think about what you did, you NEETs,” Matsuzo moaned, massaging his temples. “This didn’t just ruin our day with all these expenses. But your day too. Didn’t you all have anything better to do?” With that, Matsuzo and Matsuyo left the room, shutting the door behind them.

When they were completely gone, Jyushimatsu whimpered, “So...No dolphin show?”

“No cat...?” Ichimatsu followed up miserably.

“No clothes...?” Todomatsu wept.

“No Nyaa-chan...?!” Choromatsu cried.

“No date?!” Karamatsu tearfully yelled.

“No sexy-as-hell gambling babe?” Osomatsu whispered.

They all went quiet.

Then together, they all cried as one.

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pbandjesse · 4 years ago

Text

Today was a really nice day but I did not make any art and I feel a little bad about that. But thats is okay. It was still a really good day.

I had trouble falling asleep last night but I did sleep well. I got woken up before 830 because dad decided to call me to tell me to put air in our spare tire?? Why! James has triple A. And we have 2 different air compressors in the trunk. But it was nice to hear his voice even if I was very sleepy.

It was a beautiful day though. I got up and went to find James. I went and got a shower and washed my hair. And got dressed and felt really cute. I think I am back to daily eyeliner instead of mascara. Mascara in the summer, liner in the winter? Regardless it made me feel really pretty today.

I wasnt interested in eating anything. I played a little animal crossing while James read. But once I was done with that I just wandered around the apartment. Just kind of without purpose. James said we could go get groceries together but until then I didnt know what to do with myself.

James said we could leave around 11. So that at least gave me a timeframe. So I laid in bed and watched videos and chose the shoes I wanted to wear and I felt good.

We headed out and I wore my new mask that has flowers and is my favorite garnet color. And it was really lovely today. I am excited I can wear sweaters and things again.

The grocery store was fun. We discovered that the lettuce I got that I felt tasted weird was actually cabbage. Which makes sense why that didnt work well on my taco. James kept bullying me about that! I had a good time walking around and thinking of foods and it is a nice grocery store so it was fun.

We finished up shopping and paid. James forgot his wallet but I had mine. He went and got us quarters for laundry. And I waited and people watched.

As we left I noticed they had those little kid carts and was excited about that and as I was telling James that a kid ran past us and his mom apologized but said he was going for the mini carts. And I was like !! Yes!! I love those!! When I was a kid I remember I think the acme had those and I loved them. And there was a guy who worked there that I remember having blonde hair and was always nice to me and I dont know if I am remembering right but I do love those little carts.

After we dropped off the groceries in the car we ran over to the walgreens so I could get psoriasis shampoo. I also got a scalp exfoliator? I didnt even know that was a thing.

My total was 19.91 and thats the year I was born so I was very excited.

We had one more stop in that area. We walked across the street to the auto shop because my key had a low battery. And the guy was so nice?? He changed it for free and was so kind to me?? I did not expect he to be so nice. What a good guy.

We stopped at the donut shop before we went home and James got a coffee and I got juice and then we were off.

We went home and James unpacked everything and reshuffled the fridge. I decided that I would make soup. Spicy italian sausage with potatoes. And it came out really good. Very spicy.

James went on a bike ride and I played animal crossing. I found a dream island that is based on disney world and it was amazing! I spent almost an hour looking around and seeing all the spaces. I was so impressed with the details and honestly it was one of the best times Ive ever had on a dream island.

James was getting home as I was finishing up on there. And the rest of the afternoon was us just hanging out. Watching videos. I laid down for an hour but I didnt sleep. I hope that it will help me sleep a little better tonight.

I went to sit with James in the living room. And asked if I could paint his toes. And he let me! I gave him Halloween toes. And so we could match I took off some of my black polish in exchange for orange. First time in what. A decade. I haven't had black toenails. I kind of hate it but I like matching with my boyfriend.

We had pizza for dinner and James played a game with his friends. I went down and got the mail and discovered the new fleece I ordered came and I was like vibrating because its so nice!! Its a great brand, a beautiful color, and I had been so worried because I bought it and then realized it was a size small. But it fits me so well and I can zip it with no problem and I am just so thrilled about it.

I spent some time figuring out a good pin for the lapel. I had to fix the pin I chose, a little telephone my brother gave me. But I felt good and happy.

And now I am ready to go wash my face and get ready for bed. I hope tomorrow is more productive but just as happy. I hope you all sleep well tonight. Goodnight everyone!

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shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 5 years ago

Text

10. Bathroom wall a.k.a. a queen bee, Prince in the shower and a backup Casanova (Part Two)

Finally, that Donna Summer song is over… Although disco is not my favorite genre, I have nothing against her generally but now… the part in which she’s repeating “Hot-hot-hot-hot stuuuuff” reminded me of the sound of the rototiller which would break down in every single winter and my grandpa would always have to try for hours and hours to breathe life into it in spring. And the music was also way too loud in comparison to the fact the clientele of this place consists mostly of exhausted truck drivers who only want to chill to Chris Rhea’s Road to Hell. If they wanted noise, they would go to a strip club to see Miss North Carolina ’86 dropping her clothes to something from AC/DC. Probably Highway to Hell. Variations on a theme. But probably this little dump doesn’t even have a proper strip club.

Luckily, this shabby roadhouse has a separate room for pool tables; it’s pretty hidden and easily approachable without being noticed. Not that I don’t like hanging out with the guys… okay, that’s also a part of it, we’ve been basically locked in a tour bus, concert venues and hotel rooms since last September. We’re each other’s company all the time, the only place where I can spend a few hours by myself is basically the ever-changing setting of my incoherent dreams. Only mentally, of course, since basically there’s always someone snoring around. And of course, they also keep showing up in random scenarios and with people they don’t even know but that’s the point of dreams, your brain forces you to put jigsaw puzzle pieces together that don’t match. Or they do, you just don’t know about it… Long story short, there’s no way to get rid of these dudes… Okay, it sounds as if they annoyed me… shit, they do annoy me more and more often and I hate this feeling. We’re basically friends; we wouldn’t be able to play in the same band if we didn’t get on well. But before we started touring, we’d all had our own circles including friends and colleagues, different hobbies, natural habitat… and music and the band had been only the intersection of them. We met when we had to do something as a band, we spent time together to write songs, rehearse, record… and in the remaining time, everybody lived their own life. That we don’t have anymore.

Usually, I try to not see only the dark side of this situation but now, I’m not feeling able to put on a smiley face. Maybe the fact that my whole digestive system is burning doesn’t help either… I bought a cola at the gas station next to the bar and smuggled it in under my jacket. That’s the only piece of advice of the doctor that is also useful under tour circumstances. I mean, I can’t just drop everything and lie down when the pains are coming, I can’t spend my evening sitting on the loo when I have to play a gig and who cares about diet when you can’t even eat or sleep on a regular basis? But cola is always there, no matter where I am. It’s the only thing that eases my nausea effectively and isn’t very conspicuous at the same time. And this one is as cold as ice, it feels good to press the bottle to my stomach as I’m crouching in fetal position in this armchair. Although the doctor probably wouldn’t approve, I spiked it with a few drops of rum. To be honest, they were bigger drops but I finally wanted to empty my flask. I decided to give up drinking spirits, beer makes me unpredictable enough and mixing drinks only fucks my digestion up too.

“Here you are, finally! I knew you were somewhere here too!”

So much for hiding…

“Hi, Karrie…”

“Man, you’re missing the best parts… some local chicks started courting the guys, they even got them to dance…”

“Awesome…”

“Mike, can you hear what I’m telling you? I said the guys were made to dance… I mean, the guys such as Jeff, Dave and Stone… and dance, like, moving the body rhythmically to the music… Although the girl who picked Stone had a difficult job…”

“Let me guess: she failed.” I remark in a bored voice and shake the bottle in small circles not to waste a drop of my drink.

“Mike? Is something wrong with you? Normally, you would basically drop everything and rush there to see the end of the scene but… yes, something’s wrong with you...” she answers her own question with a concerned face sinking down slowly onto the other armchair.

“I’m fine…” I mumble as I embrace my knees and lean my chin against them.

“Mike, I haven’t known you for a long time but I’m pretty sure that sitting alone curled up like a hedgehog is not your normal state. The pains, again, right?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t like being taken for an idiot. Ninety percent of my job basically consists of watching every move of yours and trying to figure out your needs before you would even think about them. Do you think I haven’t noticed you’re suffering?”

I should have known. She usually stays in the background, doesn’t meddle in the business of the others but she’s all ears and eyes… she knows everything about us.

“All I know is that it must be something with your stomach or intestines… I don’t know exactly how serious it might be but it seems to be serious enough to be treated…” she goes on ignoring my stubborn silence. “Have you already seen a doctor? Have you already been diagnosed?”

I’ve seen several ones. I have a diagnosis. But I doubt she wants to hear the detailed description of my medical history, in particular the analysis of that delightful feeling when objects are being put up into your butthole.

“Do the others know about it?”

Oh, sure… like the inexhaustible source of Stone’s stupid anal jokes needed any feeding…No, thanks. And enlightening the others about the fact that pissing in the corner and running around naked aren’t the only sorts of accidents happening with me from time to time isn’t one of my top priorities either.

“Look, Mike, you’re an adult. Legally, leastways. I can’t tell you what to do and I’m finished with the heart-to-heart, I promise but… come on, all I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to feel ashamed and you can live a quality life whatever your problem is, for example Effie…”

“Effie?” I try not to sound like a maniac but I almost kick the table over as I jump back in regular sitting position. “You mean she…?”

“Hasn’t Judy mentioned it?”

“What?” I ask so far as I’m able to speak at all due to the lump in my throat that grew out of nothing of the mere mention of her name.

“She’s been waiting for new kidneys, or at least one new kidney for months. It’s pretty difficult to find a suitable donor for her… but she’s optimistic, as always. And also angry a bit but it only helped her move on.”

“May I ask… what happened to her? I mean, I understand if it’s not public or…” I try to form coherent sentences, which is not that easy at all after this shock therapy.

“It’s not a secret, it’s the result of medical mistakes.” she starts telling the whole story. The chain of her ordeals is more than simple misfortune, and honestly, as I’m trying to recall that compelling but still playful voice, it’s difficult to believe her life depends on permanent medical help. “…and that’s where we are now.” she finishes with a deeps sigh.

“Poor girl…”

“She’d cut your throat if she heard you. She hates being pitied and tries to keep her life in the normal track very hard, limits and obstacles have always annoyed her… but she’s not that kind of girl to whom you can explain that life can be complete without sky diving, rock climbing or space travel too.” she shrugs with a bittersweet smile.

“Does that mean she keeps going on with her studies and…”

“That’s the problem. She’s suspended her studies, gave up her student jobs but she’s already regretted it. And Annie, I mean, her mom is overconcerned and wants her to rest and stick around until the transplantation will have been carried out. And that’s one of the reasons why I recommended Judy as my replacement…”

“They need money…”

“Yup. But the point of my coming up with Effie’s case is to make you understand you’re not alone, having an illness is not a shame but I hate clichés so I rather shut up. I don’t want to lecture you, I would just feel guilty if I didn’t even try to talk about it with you.”

“I have already heard so much about her… do you have a picture of her or something? I’m curious… I mean, it’d be nice if I could connect a face to all those awesome stories…” I hear myself talking. Gaah, I don’t want seem to be pushy or a psycho stalker but I need to see her face.

“Uhmm, I used to keep a few family photos in my wallet, if you’re lucky I still have them…” she begins to rummage in her purse. “Ah, here it is. But no, that’s an old one.” she puts the picture back before I could take a look at it.

“NO, I WANT TO SEE IT.” I grab her forearm. “Please…?” I soften my voice seeing her puzzled expression. So much for avoiding deranged behavior.

“She was like seventeen when it was taken, it’s the yearbook photo from her senior year I guess.” she hands it to me.

I don’t know what I was expecting or if I was expecting anything at all but one thing I know: I wasn’t prepared for THIS. Judy mentioned she was blond and had blue eyes and normally, I would pair this combo with a Barbie-type girl in my imagination. But she’s everything but a Barbie-doll, her clear, shining, honest eyes stare into the camera with some cautiousness but if you examine her face carefully enough, you can discover hints of impishness playing around her lips and those tiny freckles around her nose and her skin that was still wearing the last kiss of late summer sun when the picture was taken… Jesus ‘Cready, you’re not a poet, you’re not even sane. Yes, I must have lost my mind, I’m hearing music in my head… “Drea-ea-ea-eam, dream, dream, dream…”

“Mike… Mike… Miiiike…” I find myself in the reality again when Karrie snaps a couple times with her fingers in front of my face. And I realize I didn’t grow a DJ in my mind, the song of Everly Brothers is actually playing in the bar.

“I take this now back, I found another one.” Karrie has to basically disentangle my clenched, grabby fingers from the photo but my eyes are still glued to the face in it, greedily collecting the tiniest details until it disappears in the wallet. “Here.” she pushes the other picture in front of me. “It’s from last year, I think, her hair is curlier here but that’s her natural look, she doesn’t have it straightened too often.”

The second photo gives that human tornado, that young woman clearly back whom I’ve imagined so many times since that very phone call and of whom now I know that she’s officially out of my league. It’s definitively confirmed, not that I had any chance to meet her in real life or at least talk to her again…

“You know what? You should consider talking with her about it. I think she’d understand it better than any of us.” Karrie remarks casually while sliding the pictures back into their place.

Oh. Yes. Sure. Why not call this angel to tell her I’m a disgusting pig who doesn’t have the slightest control over his metabolism, lets out disgusting sounds involuntarily and shits in his pants at least once in a week. Yes, that’s something I would totally chat with her about…

“It’s just an idea, I’m sure Judy would help you find a way to get in contact with her… of course, only if you want to…”

“Houston, we have a problem… Karrie… there’s a situation… we need you…” Scully basically falls into the room breathlessly.

“Jesus, what happened?” she jumps up terrified.

“It’s Judy… you should go after her…” he gasps pressing his hand against his right side. “I’ll tell you on the way…”

“Sorry Mike, we’ll talk about it later…” she shouts back on leaving.

At least my interrogation is over and I can spend some time alone since the others seem to be busy with that “situation”, whatever it is… Maybe I could practice pool tricks, I still haven’t given up my goal to beat Stone at least once in this lifetime. Even if we aren’t playing against each other, he keeps bothering me with his sarcastic comments and doesn’t let me try things in my own way, I can’t really improve my pool skills when he’s around.

After playing a few rounds against myself and winning, of course, I realize the pains have almost gone… It’s so weird, you immediately notice discomfort but you’re always unaware of the lack of it for a while, especially if you manage to direct your thoughts on something else. I guess I should look for the others, I hope Judy’s okay…

“Sorry” an unknown female voice addresses me with a short cough “have you got light?”

***

„So… what’s the plan?” Dave asks leaning on the counter with his elbows facing towards the tables.

“What plan?” I ask back positioning myself in the same way to be able to take a look around.

“For the evening… with the ladies.” he winks meaningfully.

“I don’t know… I guess we’re just hanging out. But why are you asking me? It is you and Jeff who are allowed to have any plans with any ladies… I have a beautiful girlfriend at home, remember…” I answer and I feel my lips pulling in a wide grin; I can’t help, I’ve developed this instant reaction that occurs whenever my gorgeous blondie is on my mind.

“How could I forget… you’d never miss an opportunity to rub this fact in our face. Anyway, Jeff doesn’t seem to be interested in them either, for obvious reasons…”

I squint at the pinball machine where the two second fiddles whose names I’m simply unable to recall are trying to break their personal records. I don’t really get why they think screaming helps them keep the ball on the play field but at least they prevent Jeff from falling asleep; he’s suppressing one yawn after another while stealing glances alternately at the basketball match on the TV screen and the table around which Scully, the slightly deranged leader of the girl bunch and our pocket-sized roadie are having an apparently deep conversation.

“He shouldn’t torture himself, his obvious reason doesn’t give a fuck about his awkward performance.”

“You can never know. Maybe she ignores intentionally that he’s ignoring her intentionally. But I guess you’re happy about it, the super professional band leader who’s against within-band hook-ups…”

“You know my opinion…” I shrug. “Just think about Fleetwood Mac and what happened to them.”

“Uhm, they became a world-famous top rock band?”

“You’re right! Come with me in the restroom, NOW!”

We both burst out in a dirty, tipsy laughter and it takes a few minutes until we calm down enough to be able to speak again.

“So, what are your plans?” I nudge him still shaking of warm-down snorts from time to time.

“I guess if the dynamics don’t change very quickly in the opposite direction, Jeff will vanish in less than ten minutes… and I’ll have to sacrifice myself and keep both chick entertained in the rest of the evening. But I don’t mind, they’re both cute.” Dave takes a sip of his beer wiggling his eyebrows satisfied.

“Both chick? What about… Caledonia?” I nod towards the black-haired alpha female of the trio.

“Her name is Claudia, geez man, you’re hopeless… but no, thanks, her behavior reminds me of that psycho woman in Fatal Attraction too much.” he frowns. “Stoney, be a man and do what you gotta do.”

“…which is…? Jesus, I’m not interested in any random girl I encounter and as you said, she’s totally insane, while we were dancing…”

“… while she was dancing…”

“… I felt as if I had been caught by a boa constrictor that was squeezing me tighter and tighter and I swear, it must have been an extended, super long version of Hot Stuff, I thought it would never end, like, it was at least three minutes longer than usual…” I go on since I’m not willing to react to his undisguised reference to my dance talent.

“Just go back to her, have a polite chat with her and say bye in half an hour… maybe I can keep Jeff here and you can use each other as excuse for leaving. I’ll be here and keep an eye on you and in case she gets out of control, I call the local herpers to catch her.” Dave presents his concept about the strategy I should follow.

“Herpers against herpes, it sounds like the name of some non-profit organization... Okay, approved but if I start yelling “red code”, you launch the rescue operation, that’s the signal.”

“Just go finally, the sooner you begin, the earlier you can get out of here.”

I grab my beer and walk to the small company around the table but as soon as I arrive, all its members fall suddenly silent.

“What’s up, Scully? Hi Claudia.” I greet them and get a dark look from the third person whom I’m trying to ignore to get away with the situation as simply as possible.

“Scully… what kind of name is that at all?” Claudia mutters listlessly; for some unknown reason her energetic behavior has gone; she’s playing with her hair bored leaning her face against her palm.

“There are some who call me… Tim.” Scully uses the occasion to crack a Monty Python joke.

“Tim the Enchanter.” I finish the quote basically swallowing the last syllable since I hear the other girl uttering the same words simultaneously.

“Is that some inside joke of yours?” Claudia mumbles unwillingly.

“Kind of.” I answer in the same style. “But his real name is Timothy, that’s the truth.”

“Anyway, these weird nicknames are pretty common in your crew. Scully… Stone… I wonder how you got this one.” she goes on in a monotonous voice. It’s strange, she doesn’t sound like someone who feels like having a conversation at all. Maybe she’s that depressed type of drunk.

“Guess what: from his parents.” the annoying little smartass answers instead of me raising one eyebrow.

“Oh, really? Your name is almost as bizarre as you.”

What. The. Actual. Fuck. I don’t mind if she spares me an uncomfortable talk and leaves me alone before I would ditch her but why is this turnaround?

“Judy, you promised you were going to play foosball with me! Come, the tables are finally free!” Scully jumps to his feet pulling his colleague by her hand.

“What? I didn’t promise anything, I…”

“Come on, you have a mind like a sieve, of course you did! We could invite the others too and you could teach us those mind-blowing tricks!” he drags her enthusiastically in the direction of the foosball tables; she seemingly protests a little but finally gives in and follows him reluctantly.

“Uhm… I hate to admit but she’s a first-class player.” I speak up with a sentence I didn’t want to say at all but the urge to break the awkward silence was strong enough that my mind forgot to look for better topics.

“Wow.”

Gosh, I’ll need anti-depressants, if she goes on like this.

“I everything okay?” I try to look in her eyes. “I mean… you seemed to have fun when you came over, you even danced… but now… I mean, if it’s a private thing, you don’t have to answer…”

“Stone… you are a really nice guy and all, handsome, actually funny but… I don’t think we would match.”

Thank God. But something I can’t explain makes me ask for the reason instead of confessing I’m not available anyway.

“Oh. I see. And… what makes you think we’re too different?”

“I don’t know… there are just so many antagonistic characteristics… For example, I don’t like animals. I mean, I just can’t get on well with them, I don’t even like watching documentaries on them.”

“I love them, I have a cat called Red and I love dogs too, my family has always had dogs. But I know there are people who feel strange when animals are around, I’m okay with that… what else?” I inquire; the suspicious feeling keeps telling me something’s not okay here, something’s FUCKIN’ not okay here. Maybe if I ask further questions, I get closer to the reason of her behavior.

“I don’t eat red meat at all.”

“Haha, then we have something in common. I have vegetarian phases from time to time and I’m right in the middle of one. I have nothing against meat but I only consume them at special occasions.”

“But that’s the point, I hate these special occasions!” she blurts out passionately. “And I loathe even the smell of beef, let alone touching it.”

“I repeat, I can live without it.” I laugh. “And… your concern about differences is really sweet but I have to tell you something: I have a girlfriend at home, we’ve been together for months so…”

“I know! And you’re so lucky to have someone who accepts you the way you are, even if your taste is everything but ordinary and…”

Let’s wait for a second… how does she know about Amber? And what’s this babbling about my quirky style? And what was this madness about animals and meat? My mind switches to replay mode and I try to recall the moments of the evening double-time… I see ourselves arriving, them coming to our table, us dancing to the fast-forward version of Hot Stuff, them disappearing in the restroom, them getting back from the restroom and joining Scully and J…STOP! Her. That. Little. Shit. It could be only her. She must have said something about me, something crazy shit, because that’s what she’s doing all the time, she tries to turn everybody against me and ruin my reputation and… Okay, first I have to get rid of Claudia, it’s not her fault, after all.

“Thanks for saying that, it’s very nice from you. And I’m sure, sooner or later you’ll find a guy who really fits you. I hope I didn’t hurt you but I don’t really like to talk about my private life. But I guess my friends enlightened you about the details to avoid misunderstandings…” I squint at her playing the gentle refusal routine. If my presumption is correct, it’ll turn out here and now.

“Oh yes!” she jumps on my words immediately. “Judy told me everything. She cares about you a lot, she’s such a good friend!”

“She is.” A good friend of cheap tricks and pretended innocence. But she’ll pay for this. “Her problems are usually similar to mine so we are pretty much on the same wavelength.” Whatever it is, I throw the shit back at that viper. “But this is so awkward and I don’t want to waste your time so… I wish you all the best and good luck with guys!” I stand up already thinking about medieval methods of torment I would gladly try on that two-faced dwarf.

“Thanks… and be happy with that lucky girl!” she sends a saddish smile and I feel guilty for a second for leaving her alone right when she stopped playing the role of the tempting seductress. But while I’m walking to the foosball tables, my thoughts are going back to my unfinished business with that hypocrite, mean…

“No, Scully, the point is in the right angle, look, I don’t shoot the ball until… hey, Scully, you’re not even watching… oh.” she suddenly falls silent and flushes as she follows the gaze of the pale, petrified guitar tech in my direction as I arrive to them. He was obviously trying to save her ass but I don’t blame him, he hates fights, he probably feels being between two fires.

“You know what? I’m also dying to learn more about your little tricks.” I stop at the foosball table with folded arms.

“Oh my God, I love tricks.” Claudia’s enthusiastic friend chirps from the other side of the table. “What? I do love them!” she whines not decoding the strict face the third member of their bunch sends at her after nudging her to finally shut up.

“S-sure, I gladly show them to you too…” the manipulative little beast stutters.

“Face-to-face.” I cut her off in my coldest voice and I can basically hear how hard she just swallowed.

“Ugh… let’s look for Jeff and Dave.” Scully steers the two confused, reluctant friends of Claudia out of range basically tossing them towards the bar counter.

“So, what do you want to know?” she asks almost cheerfully; what an acting performance.

“Oh, I want to know a lot of things… if aliens exist… where the other half of my favorite pair of socks might be… what’s the equivalent of blushing at chameleons… why Claudia suddenly started treating me as if I was a leper…”

“They do. Probably in Jeff’s suitcase. You can’t embarrass a reptile. Maybe she has finally seen the light…” she lists her answers shrugging nonchalantly. “But I guess it’s a relief for you, so we’re happy now, huh?”

“It depends. I wonder if someone helped her out with some useful information about me…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about… not that it matters as for the result…” she starts spinning the sticks in the table for no reason, since no one else is around, it’s probably just a pathetic excuse for avoiding eye contact.

“You know, I like to decide on my own with whom I want to spend my time.”

“Do you absolutely exclude the possibility of other people feeling the same way? What if she just didn’t enjoy your company?”

“That’s not impossible but the marvelous change in her behavior makes me think something happened either in the restroom or at the table… and guess what? You were there the whole time too.”

“Are you stalking me? Jesus, should I have reported what I was doing at the loo? And I’m even sitting at tables, holy shit, that’s a federal crime.”

“She herself told you on. I haven’t figured out yet what you told her but I know Scully like the back of my hand; he’s obviously trying to cover for you but keeping secret and acting aren’t his strengths. Sooo… you can play dumb but it’ll take me less than two minutes to get everything out of him.”

Her hands stop fidgeting in the second she realizes there’s no point in denying.

“If you’re convinced that much, then why are you asking me? Just execute me here and now…” she stretches out her arms playing the role of the innocent, targeted victim.

“Nah, you can’t get away with it so easily. I wanna know why you did what you did.” I stand in her way since I can see her eyes mapping the possible escapes.

“Why do you want to know why I did what you think I did?” she asks back still keeping the poker face. She still thinks she can win, unbelievable.

“Well… it’s just interesting. Jeff and Dave danced with those girls too but as far as I can see, their popularity hasn’t decreased, I wonder why…” I turn around for a second and nod towards our table where the guys are laughing hard at something with Scully and Claudia’s friends, Claudia seems to have been vanished in the meantime, though.

“Because they don’t have girlfriends...” she remarks earnestly staring at them, not even noticing she broke the character.

“So that’s it? That’s why you did it? You think I can’t even look at other girls since I’m not single?”

“You just shouldn’t. I mean, you found a girl who meets your special needs, you wouldn’t have such luck once again in this lifetime.” she sits back on the high horse again.

“What special needs?” I ask eagerly hoping I can finally put the whole picture together.

“I don’t know, four boobs, tiny brain, large bed, I guess…” she goes on with the bullshit.

“That’s you theory about my needs? Wonderful… So you think I would have cheated on my girlfriend without your machination?” I raise my voice.

“I didn’t say that…”

“Did I kiss her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Did I hug her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Did I grope her?”

“You didn’t but…”

“Then what the fuck did I do that bothered your sensitive soul so much that you dared intervene in my business?” I lean over her making her back away.

“You laughed and…”

“What?” I scream. “You think me laughing with someone wearing skirt makes you entitled for shit-talking? You’re insane. You know what? You can play the self-proclaimed moral police of the crew or Seattle or the whole fuckin’ universe, I don’t give a fuck. Just leave. Me. Alone. Mind your own love life. Oh, wait? You don’t have one? Maybe that’s the problem?” I cover my mouth with my palm pretending shock.

“Screw you, Gossard.” she whispers hoarsely and tosses me away with her shoulder rushing past me.

***

I catch her at the entrance, in front of the building. Scully was right, she seems to be pretty upset.

“Shit, shit, SHIT!!!” she shouts emphasizing the last “shit” by kicking at full strength in the dumpster standing on the side of the road. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” she bounces with painful groans on one leg until she almost loses her balance and limps back to plop down onto the curb.

“I heard that Converse was planning to launch steel toe sneakers, first I thought the brand managers were tripping on something but seeing you it totally makes sense.” I remark as I take place next to her with the moves and in the pace of a seventy-year-old woman; this position is anything but comfortable for my permanently aching knee.

“Ha, very funny. I should have kicked him in the balls. With steel toe boots…” she mumbles taking her foot in her lap. “I hope I didn’t break my big toe.” she tries to make a diagnosis by palpation.

“If I’m not wrong, you’re talking about the genitalia of Stone Carpenter Gossard.”

To my biggest surprise, it’s not the anatomical term that catches her attention.

“What? Carpenter?” she asks snickering but she also wipes out an involuntary teardrop with the back of her hand from the corner of her eye in the meantime. Whatever happened, it must have actually hurt.

“Yes, that’s his middle name. But: you didn’t hear it from me. And, I know the temptation is huge but try to keep this information until you can use it with cool head.”

“I’m as cold as an icicle.” she sniffles bitterly.

“As a melting icicle.” I stop a next teardrop rolling down on her face with my thumb. “Come on, what happened?”

“Nothing. I’m just so sick of it. So sick of him.”

“What has he done?”

“You mean apart from getting addicted to oxygen twenty-something years ago?”

“Did he say something?” I ignore her sarcastic response.

She laces her arms around her knees and begins to examine her shoes.

“Did he do something?”

She insists on remaining silent and resists my interrogation pretending the patterns on her socks require all her attention.

“Or didn’t he say or do something? That’s the problem? Look, I don’t have to care about your childish quarrel. I just wanted to check if you’re okay since Scully was worried about you. But frankly, maybe too many people are already busy with trying to keep your war over sandbox toys under control.”

“You could finally decide on whose side you are…”

“Obviously on Stone’s. But it has practical reasons, Mike mentioned once he had drunk expired beer during a gig with his previous band and he’d vomited in the amplifier…” I try to ease the tension. “But Jesus, Judy, joke aside, I’m on nobody’s side, of course. I’m just trying to help but if I don’t know what happened, I can’t. And I’m helpless since believe or not, I know he’s a really great guy and I also know you’re an awesome chick and honestly, I have no clue why your arrival has turned him completely inside out.”

“So it’s my fault.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I’m just… so sick of him.”

“You’ve already said that.” I fish a tissue out of my pocket and hand her so that she doesn’t use her forearm to clean her nose.

“You know… he’s not the first smug prick I have to deal with, I met enough of them at Juilliard… but usually, I just ignored them.”

“Then why don’t you ignore him too?” I ask although I know there are several reasons that make this idea extremely difficult.

“I’m not in the position in which I could pretend he’s invisible. And inaudible. I mean, letting it slide sounds like a way that could be even effective, maybe he would get tired of torturing me after a while… but it’s not like high school bullying, I don’t have years to get rid of him, at least you have a glimmer of hope every year there that maybe the bullies find a new victim in the freshman class… But… despite what this whole situation looks like, this is the adult world. This is my job, the management is my employer and if the band is not satisfied with me, I’m going to be fired.”

“But they are satisfied with you…”

Her disbelieving expression makes me correct my sentence.

“They are not dissatisfied with you…”

“Stone is. And he’s the leader and main songwriter of the band so if it came to a dealbreaker… guess who would draw the short straw.”

“Who talks about a dealbreaker? At this point, you’re my trainee. You’re under my protection.”

“And you know what’s the most irritating part? That I’m trying, I’m really trying… I do everything to fulfil his wishes…”

“…which are often ridiculous, let’s be honest. I mean, he’s an immensely talented musician but he… all of them have to learn that being loud and raw isn’t the most important thing…”

“Exactly… I just want to turn up the volume until his monitor box explodes and then just shrug, like “you wanted this, fucker”.“ we both giggle recalling the awkward moments and the looks we exchanged at sound checks. “But what’s your strategy? How can you convince him?”

“Well… I don’t try to convince him with explicit arguments… somehow I learned how to make him believe that my suggestion was originally his idea.”

“Clever… but ah, I couldn’t make it… he disagrees with everything I come up with… it’s like an innate reflex at him.”

“Aaand you’ve just caught the point!” I snap with my fingers.

“…which is… that it’s a reflex and he can’t help it?” she frowns.

“No, the other thing you said… he disagrees with everything that comes from you.”

“…aaand…?” her hands circling around each other urge me for getting straight to the point. “Yes, I’m the problem, I know, there’s nothing new in that.”

“NO! And actually… I’d rather keep you in the dark about it. Namely, we’ve got a plan.”

Two plans actually, in case plan A doesn’t work…

“We? You and…?”

“Schmitty, Brett and Scully. None of them is particularly good at keeping secret but this time they are holding on, I’m very proud of them. But as far as I know you, you’d ruin everything if you knew the details.”

“I can’t wait… if it doesn’t involve a pair of dirty, stinky socks getting stuffed into Stone’s mouth, I’m not interested in it, anyway… whatever… sorry for being skeptical, the guy is smart, he smells plans and tricks from miles… and even if he doesn’t, he ruins your self-esteem and drives you into series of mistakes and then” she claps suddenly making me start ”he gets you and makes fun of you.”

“You don’t need to exaggerate, he’s not Satan itself…”

“Are you sure?” she narrows her eyes meaningfully. “I had finally gained some confidence by the time I graduated from Juilliard, I mean, I finally believed that being admitted and receiving a degree there meant I could really… achieve something… and now... I feel like I’m at the start again.”

“The situation is certainly out of your comfort zone… but you came from a different world… and his world is strange for you too and…”

“If it was only about this!” she cuts me off. “He’s mocking me permanently, at everything. Everything. Like in elementary school, he makes remarks about my look, my dresses…”

“But you mock him back!”

“… my love… life…” she goes on in a thinner voice. “Or… rather the lack of it. Rude remarks.”

Whoa, that’s new. Obviously, I’ve heard him cracking jokes about her innocent look and Jeff’s admiration for her that he rather disapproved than encouraged, by the way… but he hadn’t humiliated her publicly only for being single… I need a context.

“What did he say exactly?”

“He told me not to put my nose into other people’s business… and that I should to stay away from his private life and insulted me by saying I didn’t even have a love interest…” she recalls in a bored voice like she was reciting a textbook.

“That doesn’t make any sense… what happened before?” I inquire. Something tells me that’s only the second half of the story…

“We had sort of a… disagreement.”

“You don’t say…” I squint at her. “Come on, don’t make me pull everything out of you word by word!”

“Can I have a cigarette?” she asks out of the blue.

“But you don’t even smoke!” I protest.

“Do you want me to go on or not? Just give me a cigarette, please.”

“Oookaaay…” I hand her the pack with my lighter in it.

“So… there were those girls who showed up in the bar… they sat down to the guys’ table…” she begins as she hits the pack with her index finger a few times to set a cigarette free.

“Yes, I saw them, they even danced with them, it was hilarious!” I giggle. Honestly, not only the recall of the scene cracks me up, her fumbling with the lighter is hysterical too.

“One of them… Claudia… she hit on him. I mean, on Stone.” she utters with disgust as she succeeds in lighting the cigarette for about the sixteenth attempt.

“Oh yeah… she seemed pretty pushy.”

“Pushy is not the right term, she was just shameless! I encountered her in the restroom, she started asking questions about him, you know, if he’s single, what kind of girls he liked, stuff like that. And I… ahem… I told… ahem-ahem… I told her… ahem… I told he had a girlfriend ahem-ahem-ahem-ahem…”

Even the first drag drives her on the verge of choking.

“Are you sure you want to smoke it?”

“Yes, I am… ahem… I’m okay… I’m just… ahem. Okay. I think it’s over.” her breathing calms down finally. “So” she takes another drag, a perceptibly more cautious one “long story short, she didn’t even care… and that asshole didn’t even resist.”

“I didn’t see him reciprocating her approach… What should he have resisted?”

“Everything? OUCH!!!”

Due to her outraged hand moves, she managed to drop the ash onto her forearm.

“Okay, you give that to me…” I grab her by the wrist and take the cigarette between my own middle and index finger. “When you’re smoking, you have to ash it regularly to avoid accidents like this. It also burns while you’re talking, just sayin’…”

“Damn… but it’d feel really good to hold a cigarette in my hand while I’m flailing…” she whines still rubbing her forearm.”

“Here. But don’t even try to light it. We can pretend you’re smoking it. Go on.” I hand her a fresh cigarette and begin to puff the one I confiscated.

“And I got just… so angry! I mean, how can one be such a slut?” she gestures on with wider moves.

“Well, a lot of girls just want to have fun and…”

“No, I’m talking about him! He’s got a girlfriend… who must be beautiful and smart and perfect and… “

“Wait, you don’t know anything about her…”

“That’s true but guys like him obviously wouldn’t date any girl…”

I’m dying to know what she means by “guys like him” but maybe this is not the right moment to ask it straightforwardly…

“But he didn’t do anything particular with that girl…” I try to defend him effortlessly.

“Were you there too? Because I was. And trust me, without my intervention, a lot more would have happened…”

“Wait, your intervention?” I perk my head but receive no response. “Judy??? What did you do?”

“I… I might have said her a few things… about Stone…” she confesses with burning cheeks.

“Things like…???” I claim a detailed explanation. Maybe she’s not as innocent this time as I thought…

“I told her things about… what he likes…” she answers reluctantly.

“Like beer or dogs or disco music or what the hell? Tell me the whole fuckin’ story or I leave, I swear!” I flare out at her.

“Things… he likes in… bed…”

Oh. The idea of Judy disclosing Stone’s bedroom secrets sounds dangerous enough to make me choose my words wisely.

“But you… you don’t know what kind of sex he likes… do you?”

“Jesus, of course I don’t, I don’t even want to think about the fact that that freak has sex at all! Jesus… not even in my worst nightmares…” she rolls her eyes staring in front of her.

“But then… how did you know…”

“I… used my… imagination…” she sums up with a brief shrug.

I’ve never heard a more euphemistic synonym for lying. “I used my imagination…” Wicked woman.

“Oh my… and what was your intention with that?”

“To make her reconsider her choice… and to defend Stone from her… you know, I wanted to help him getting out of this situation, guys just never have the strength... I basically did him a favor!”

Of course, Judy helping Stone. I could even imagine it but strictly only after the arrival of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

“Thinking back about the beginning of our conversation, he couldn’t be particularly grateful for the helping hand…”

“Well, the thing is that the nature of our relationship sort of… influenced my word usage…”

“Judy, I’ve known you since your birth, you don’t need to use vague sentences… just tell what you told her finally!”

“I told her he liked watching animals, I might have mentioned mating animals. For example, watching David Attenborough video tapes before he…”

“I get it, I get it… but that’s not that extreme, thank God you didn’t say he liked animal porn in which people do it with animals…”

“Maybe I mentioned further preferences too… maybe I said something about him liking eating from the girl’s body…”

“That can even be hot, a lot of people are into it, that’s not that bad at all, Judy…” I snicker.

“…unusual food… like bloody steak with Worcestershire sauce… with knife and fork…”

I immediately stop giggling and freeze because I have the sinister feeling she still has something to confess.

“Uhm… I thought you were talking about potentially erotic food like strawberry and whipped cream but in case the girl likes steak too…”

“…and it’s possible I said things about his… performance too…”

“Oh, no.”

“I remember mentioning… he needs, uhm, special actions to become… motivated.” she fidgets with her shoelaces absent-mindedly, wrapping them around her index fingers.

“Okay, whatever, go ahead, I’m prepared.” I cover my eyes with my hands as if they could prevent me from visualizing her bizarre ideas.

“As far as I can recall… I claimed his main turn-on was watching the girl doing her business…”

“You mean doing the business? Like… pleasing… herself?” I ask back since don’t want to believe what I heard.

“I said doing her business… on the toilet…” she repeats with a miserably groan, reddening and avoiding my gaze.

“Judy… you know I’m always ready to defend you from anything or anybody but… it’s no wonder Stone attacked you again.”

“No wonder? He deserved it! After all that bitching…”

“He deserved it? Helping hand, of course… you basically humiliated him in front of a girl!” I scold her trying to keep a serious face, which is not easy at all.

“Do you think I went too far?” she asks innocently with sincere concern. For a second, she turns back into the ten-year-old version of herself who was scared of everything and everyone and it costs me a lot of restraint not to hug her. “Anyway… thinking back… it was so funny, you should have seen the girl’s face.”

I admit, this is the most hilarious shit I’ve heard in the last few years and Stone does deserve some payback from time to time but I don’t want to confirm her behavior. I’m sticking on my plan about getting them to make up or at least to normalize their relationship.

“Judy…” I begin with a deep sigh “Most guys are very sensitive as for their masculinity and sexual abilities, even if they are not typical machos. When they are joking about themselves – that’s okay, a guy with a healthy amount of self-irony is usually considered funny or even attractive. If another guy teases them with sexual topics – they just fire back, with words or their fist. But if it’s a girl who makes fun of their performance – they just freak out, they can’t hit you, they can’t assert they are sex gods either, their only way to defend themselves is attacking back verbally and they try to be at least as rude as you were. Or even ruder.”

“Oh, please, Karrie, I don’t need to be lectured on the psychology of men. He didn’t even know what I said exactly, he wasn’t there of course.”

“But it was you who said he’s smart, he probably figured out the point of it, the chick didn’t seem to be a rocket scientist and she probably didn’t even realize she got in the middle of your death match…”

“Or he was just taking shots in the dark and had luck. Scully was there and Stone was about to torment him so that he would tell him everything word by word… poor dude… So everything will turn out, anyway. By the way, Stone immediately thinking that I’m the potential reason of him being refused by a girl is insulting but also flattering at the same time…”

“Judy, I’ve never denied that it’s pretty difficult to bear Stone’s remarks without saying a word. But getting a taste of his own medicine only gets him fired up all the more, he always wants to have the last word, he’s simply just like that. And if you want to be the quicker one and make his jaw really drop, you have to get your shit together. But to be honest, I’d be happier if you’d keep your quarrels on the level of innocent teasing…”

“It was already everything but innocent in that very moment he heard my name for the first time. It didn’t depend on me, it’s all his fault and he has to face the music at least once his lifetime!” she declares determined.

I better activate plan A as fast as possible before someone gets killed.

***

I can’t wait this terrible day finally come to an end. I just want to take a shower and have some sleep… but I don’t even know how I could get myself to close my eyes, this place is a mess. What if cockroaches come out of their hideouts in the second I turn off the lights? But I’m so tired… what if I asked the driver to open the tour bus for me? Sleeping in the bunk bed sounds definitely safer… but what if he’s already sleeping? I don’t even know his room number and the reception desk was empty too; I don’t feel like looking for the staff in this haunted house. I better start with a shower, it always helps clear my mind. I’m so busy with my own thoughts that I basically bump into Beth in the hallway who’s walking sleepily towards their room; she must be coming from the shower judging from her wet hair.

“Already back here? It wasn’t a long evening…” she mutters in a tired voice.

“I’ve had enough of it. Is everything okay?” I examine her resigned face.

“Yes… uhm… Ed was typing lyrics the whole evening and then he passed out… so I had a shower and I’m about to go to bed too.” she rubs her eyes. “Carefully with the water tap, I almost scalded myself due to that crap. It’s better to wait at least thirty seconds before standing under the water and be careful when you try to change the temperature, there’s not much transition between ice cold and scalding hot, I had to mess around a lot until I could find the optimal level.”

“If I can’t work it out, I’ll just shower with cold water, that wouldn’t be the first time.” I wave.

“Ugh, if you’re a masochist…”

“It’s not the most pleasant thing I can imagine but at least it’s not dangerous either. It can be even refreshing sometimes.”

“Oookay… as you want... And there are no hooks in the shower either, by the way. But no bugs there so far either… Good night!” she pats my shoulder with almost closed eyes and totters to their door.

As I unlock the door of our room, I reach in with one arm to turn on the light and wait for a few seconds before entering; I don’t want to see my little roommates running in the corners. I lift the blanket on my bed only to realize the bedclothes aren’t the cleanest and there’s no towel prepared for the guests. Thank goodness I didn’t listen to Effie when she tried to dissuade me from bringing my own one; she claimed hotels always offer towels and travel-size personal care products… So much for Effie’s assumptions. Of course I also brought my toiletry bag decorated with treble keys and musical notes containing small bottles of shower gel, body lotion, a tiny tube of toothpaste and… due to the foresight of Effie, my “emergency package” now includes also gratuitous amount of condoms that stare at me accusingly every time I unzip it. I decide to leave my clothes in the room since I don’t like when there’s no place where I could arrange them properly, I don’t want my sleeping shirt and boxers to get wet either. There’s no living soul here, no one would see me walking a few meters only wearing a towel…

But when I pull it out of my backpack, I realize there’s one thing I didn’t take into account: I brought a smaller towel to spare place for other clothes. As I wrap it around my body, I have to trick for a while until I can arrange it in a way that it covers both my chest and my backside at the same time. Since it’s not only narrow but also short, I can forget the ordinary method of walking, I can basically only waddle pressing both arms tight to my body without exposing anything. I try to exercise this ridiculous way of moving pacing back and forth between the two sides of the room a few times and I end up sitting back on the bed hesitating if I should dress up again. I’m at a public place, after all. But fuck it, I’m tired, I had tequila and this day can’t get any worse, anyway. I peek out to the hallway to make sure I won’t get unexpected company and I set off to cover the longest twenty meters in my life. In duckwalk. But my bravery pays off, I encounter no one so on entering the shower, I finally allow myself to relax.

I put the toiletry bag on the classroom chair in front of the sinks in the forefront and fish out the shower gel bottle. I leave my glasses on the bag and head towards the innermost compartments. I decide to hang my towel on the wall separating the opposite compartments and after turning on the water, immediately jump backwards to safe distance. Beth’s advice on the adjustment proves to be useful and a few minutes later, I’m already enjoying the pleasant, warm water. Of course I brought my favorite, rough sponge too, it always helps refresh my blood circulation.

I catch myself rubbing my body stronger and stronger as I involuntarily recall tonight’s events. What a prick. Of course he deserved everything, I don’t have to feel ashamed about anything. It was him who looked for trouble. His girlfriend would have felt terrible, if she’d seen that disgusting scene so I did the right thing. His huge ego just can’t accept, this time someone was smarter than him. It’s so pathetic when a man needs this cheap kind of confirmation to feel his masculinity ensured. But come on, Stone Gossard’s name referred in connection with manliness and masculinity is the most ridiculous idea in the world, he’s got the body and mind of a thirteen-year-old.

I turn off the water and spill a few drops of shower gel into my palm but as soon I touch my shoulder with it, I hear a noise. A squeaky noise. A squeaky noise of an opening door. Oh no. No, no, no. The smacking sound of slippers on the tiled floor leaves no doubts that I have a visitor and the lazy, shuffling steps are approaching. I pull in the corner and don’t even dare breathe, I’m shivering but not only of cold, shit, what if it’s a stranger? What if it’s a man? What if I make some noise only with my mere existence? I got trapped here naked and… The sound of steps ceases and the water starts running right in the shower cubicle next to mine. Luckily, the wall is high enough to hide me although I can’t check the other person without revealing my presence either. A few seconds have gone by when humming gets mixed into the sound of water… Oh shit, it’s a male voice. The humming slowly turns into singing and my blood runs cold when I realize: I know this nasal bleat.

“If you didn’t come to party, don’t bother knockin’ on my door…”

#pearl jam fanfiction #fanfiction #PearlJamfanfic #eddie vedder #stone gossard #MikeMcCready #jeff ament #dave abbruzzese

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alwayschoosechocolate · 6 years ago

Text

The 18-hour meet cute

Plot: You miss your connecting flight in Singapore and are left to wait 18-hours for the next one. With only one hotel-room left, you’re asked to share it with a complete stranger.

Characters: Kim Seokjin, Y/N

Genre: Fluff, I don’t know how to define it, but there are definitely no warnings here. Safe read for everyone!

Word count: 5700

A/N: So @seokjinnieismine asked if I could write something with Jin, based on this headline

and it immediately made me think of this video from LADbible https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BYCETjh4eMc I have not been able to think about anything else since! It was supposed to be way shorter than this, but I got carried away. Enjoy!

My masterlist can be found here

“I’m sorry, what now?”, you asked the lady behind the counter in disbelief. Surely there must have been some translation error, because this couldn’t be true.

“There is only one hotel room left, Mrs. Y/L/N,” she repeated apologetically. “I’m terribly sorry, but because of the weather, several flights have been cancelled or postponed. There is nothing, I can do.”

Turning around to face to man to your right, you couldn’t help the disbelieving laugh slip your lips. He sheepishly shrugged his shoulders with a shy smile, before turning to the hotel manager again.

“And there is no other room? Only the one with the double bed?”

“That’s correct, sir,” the manager confirmed. “Again, I am terribly sorry. I can offer you some vouchers and free passes for you to use in the airport while you wait?” With a smile, she held out a collection of entry tickets and vouchers.

“There is no need for that,” the man spoke at the same time as you reached out for the tickets, making you turn to him with a sour look. He simply sent you a sweet smile back before turning to the manager again. “Thank you, but there is really no need.”

“I don’t know, what kind of riches you’re swimming in,” you huffed out in annoyance, before snatching the papers from the hotel manager. “But I can’t afford 18 hours here without the vouchers.”

Simple shaking his head at you, he busied himself getting checked in, handing over his passport.

“Alright, Mrs. Y/l/n, Mr. Kim. Here is your key. I hope you can make the most of your stay here, despite the circumstances.”

Sending her a reassuring smile, you thanked her for all her help. After all, she wasn’t to blame for this entire mess.

The walk to the room was quiet and awkward. How the hell, were you supposed to sleep in the same bed as a complete stranger? What if he was a rapist? Or a pervert? Or what if he didn’t shower and smelled really bad? Oh god, what if he snored? Sneaking a look at him out the corner of your eye, you found him focused on finding the right room. He was quite handsome, you supposed. Soft features, sweet eyes, plump lips. And he was tall and well built. But he was still a stranger, you reminded yourself. And no matter how handsome he was, you still felt uneasy having to sleep in the same room as him.

“Ah, here we are,” he exclaimed, reaching the room and unlocking it with the keycard, which you had only been given one of. Hotel-rules or something.

Walking in behind him and hearing the door close, the room was plunged into a deafening silence, both of you standing still in the middle of the room, eyes locked on the bed in the middle of the room.

“Well,” he coughed awkwardly to break the silence. “You can take the bed. I’ll just sleep on the floor.” Depositing his stuff on a chair in the corner of the room, he went to strip the bed of one of the duvets, only to leave the bed naked with the two pillows. Of course, it had to be a king size duvet as well.

Looking up at you with a confused and apologetic look, you couldn’t help but snort out a loud laugh.

“My god, this is like the plot to the worst romance movie ever made,” you groaned with an eye roll. “As long as you keep your hands to yourself, we can share the bed, yeah?”

“As long as you’re comfortable with it?” His eyes were unsure, searching yours for a clue about your thoughts on the entire thing.

You simply shrugged your shoulders and went to find your sketch book from your backpack along with your wallet. To be honest, you weren’t picky about this stuff, but boundaries had to be set.

“I still haven’t gotten your name,” he asked hesitantly, making you laugh.

“You’re right. I’m Y/N,” you answered with an amused tone. It hadn’t even crossed your mind to ask for his name.

“My name is Jin. Despite the circumstances, it’s really nice to meet you.” His eyes were twinkling and for the first time, he looked amused by the situation as well, making you feel more relaxed.

“Yeah, this really is a mess,” you laughed, making him chuckle as well. “What do we do about the keycard?”

Picking up the card off the table, Jin inspected it for a few seconds, before handing it over to you with a smug smile.

“You take it. I trust you to make wise decisions,” he laughed. “You can do whatever you want. I can make myself busy for a few hours. Maybe we could do dinner together though?”

Though the question was hesitant, his eyes seemed eager for you to accept his proposal.

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” you giggled, making his eyes light up. “I mean, 18 hours is long time to spend together without actually getting to know each other.” He simply nodded at your words with a soft grin, leaving it to you to pick a time to meet up.

“Well, how about we meet in front of the hotel at” – you checked the time on your watch – “7?”

“Sure, sounds good.”

That being settled, you made your awkward departure, which involved a half wave as you almost walked into the door, that you struggled to open because of all the locks, before you finally made your way to the hallway.

“You’re such a clutz,” you mumbled to yourself, as you rested your head on the wall opposite the door for a few seconds to digest the entire situation. Taking deep breaths, you mentally worked through what was going to happen. It was 3pm now. So you could walk around for a few hours, maybe draw a bit. Then dinner with Jin at 7pm. Just thinking about it made you huff out a laugh, at how absurd it all was. That would maybe take like an hour. Two if you had a lot to talk about. That would make it 9pm, and still leave 12 hours. What the hell were you supposed to do for 12 hours? Shaking your head to clear the overthinking from your mind, you pushed yourself off the wall and opened your eyes, being met with Jins curious eyes peering back at you.

“Are you okay?”, he asked, concern present in his voice.

Shit, how hadn’t you heard the door? How long had he been standing there?

“Yeah, no worries.” You pushed out a strained laugh. “I’m just a bit tired. I’m gonna go now.”

Cursing at yourself mentally, you threw him a quick smile, before taking off in what could only be called a sprint to get away from him.

Wandering around the airport, you were in awe at how big it was, and how much it had to offer. There were playgrounds, labyrinths, every food choice you could think off, art pieces, outdoor terraces, gardens and even an outdoor pool. After having walked around a bit, you stumbled across a sign pointing to a sunflower garden. Curiosity taking over, you followed the signs and sure enough, there - in the middle of an airport – a sunflower garden with a small pathway between the flowers to walk on and small benches to rest on. Almost squealing in joy, you started looking through the garden for the prettiest flower to sketch. Finally finding the perfect one, you made yourself comfortable on a bench and placed your notepad on your knees. Putting pen to paper, the rustling and bustling of the airport disappeared around you as the flower took shape on your sketchbook.

When you pulled back from your second drawing a few hours later to inspect it from a distance, you smiled happily at your work.

“That’s beautiful.”

Looking up to the source of the voice, you were met with Jins impressed smile.

“I didn’t know, you were an artist?”

“And I didn’t know, you needed two coffees?”, you retorted with a laugh, gesturing to the two to-go cups in his hands.

“Well, you can never have too many coffees,” he winked, as he handed you one. “No, I bought one for you. Didn’t know what you liked, so I just bought an americano, but I have milk and sugar with me.” He pulled out the packets from his pocket, and you accepted one of the small milk containers.

“So you were just walking around the airport with two coffees looking for me?”, you teased, as you took the first sip of the coffee.

“Ehm.” He rubbed the back of his neck blushingly. “Actually, I walked past you about 10 minutes ago, but you didn’t see me, so I went to buy us a coffee to have an icebreaker,” he admitted with a nervous laugh.

“I think, we’re way past icebreakers, Jin.”

As your laugh resounded in the garden, he visibly relaxed. After seeing you look so distressed in the hallway, he had felt awful, thinking that you felt that uncomfortable about sharing a room with him. So he had spent the last two hours looking everywhere for you. He had almost given up, when he caught sight of your figure on the bench in the garden. Seeing you sketching, he had stayed put for a few minutes, just observing how your brows furrowed in concentration as your hands transported the beautifully vibrant flowers to the page in front of you. Finally deciding to walk up and talk to you, he was nervous, which he was very well aware of was stupid, but nevertheless he chose to buy the coffees as a conversation starter.

“Yeah, you might be right,” he chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee before looking down on your drawing again. “But that really is beautiful.”

You sent him an appreciative smile, looking down on your page again to hide your blushing cheeks.

“Thank you, but I’m not really an artist. It’s just a hobby.”

“Oh, you’re an artist all right,” he stated, brushing off your comment and making you roll your eyes in return.

“I’m really not. I picked it up when I was in rough part of my life, and it helped me through some tough times,” you shrugged, almost regretting that you revealed that to a complete stranger. Oh well, after tomorrow you would never see him again.

“Ah, the troubled soul of an artist,” he mused dramatically with a teasing smile, causing you to give him light shove as you laughed.

“What about you? What do you do?”

“Nothing interesting,” he answered, trying to dodge the question. “I work for a big corporation, but honestly I’m not even sure, what it is we do.”

As you laughed at his response, he felt himself grow more comfortable and confident with you.

“And they make us wear these stiff suits, which are quite honestly so uncomfortable,” he whined, squirming in his seat, delighting in drawing yet another laugh from you.

“Wait. I think, I have a solution for that!”, you exclaimed, reaching into your bag for the vouchers you got at the hotel. “Look!”

You handed him a voucher which would give you 30% off in a selected list of clothing stores at the airport. Looking up at you with quirked eyebrow, you simply beamed proudly at him.

When he walked out of the store an hour later, it was with you following suit, clutching your stomach in laughter, tears springing from your eyes.

“What?”, Jin asked, as he turned around to face you with a sassy pop of his hip. “I look fucking fabulous, and you know it.” Running his hands through his hair, he gave a catwalk worthy display of his new outfit, which was galaxies away from his stuffy suit. Neon green shoes with red laces, skintight black jeans, and an oversized pink hoodie with a giant panda head on the front.

“You’re definitely gonna catch a few eyes, that’s for sure,” you giggled, wiping tears from your eyes.

Eating dinner at one of the restaurants took you close to three hours, as you spent most of the time making up stories about the people surrounding you, leaving both of you close to tears in laughter.

“Aw,” you pouted at him. “We’ve waited so long to eat, that our pizzas have gotten cold.”

“Now, that won’t do!”, he giggled, waving over the waiter. “We would like a new pizza, my good man. And another bottle of wine, please.”

“Jin! We can’t afford that!”, you scolded him, although it didn’t have much effect with your alcohol rosy cheeks and drunken giggle.

“Speak for yourself, love,” he grinned shamelessly, making you blush at the nickname. “I’m loaded.”

“Oh, we’re getting cocky now, are we?”, you laughed at his demeanor. “Well, in that case I would like a cosmopolitan as well,” you told the waiter, when he put down the new wine bottle.

“A cosmopolitan?”, Jin smirked with a quirked eyebrow. “How cliché.”

“I’ve always wanted to try one,” you shrugged with a giggle, making Jin laugh as well.

“And where else would be better to try it, than here in the Changi airport, stuck with a complete stranger?”

“Exactly!”

Working through the drinks, you talked about this and that, never venturing into personal subjects. It seemed like a mutual agreement, that personal stuff was off the table. Instead you talked about which countries you had visited, which books you had read recently, which movies you liked and a lot of joking about each other as the stereotypical artist and the rich businessman, who had to share a bed in an airport hotel. The clichés were all over the place.

“The only thing, that would make it more stereotypical would be if I was married as well, and then we ended up falling in love after one night together,” Jin laughed, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean ‘married as well’?”

Jin cocked his head at your expression, the drunken giggle slowly fading from his face.

“Well, you checked in as Mrs. Y/L/N. Not Miss,” he clarified, making you snort out a laugh.

“Yeah, but I’m not married,” you gasped between laughs. “I just wasn’t sure what to think of you, and men tend to respect women more, if they’re married. I’m very much single,” you stated with a sly smile at his confused expression.

“That’s…” he trailed off with furrowed eyebrows and a slight pout to his lips, making you contain a giggle. “I don’t know what to say,” he stated with a drunken chuckle. “But I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to tell me now.”

“Well, you did pay for dinner and wore that god-awful sweater just to make me laugh,” you winked at him, laughing in triumph, when you saw his cheeks turn pink. “Ha! I knew it!”

Unable to do anything but smile fondly at your celebration of revealing his secret, he settled for shrugging his shoulders with a laugh.

When the waiter came to tell you that they were closing in a few minutes, you looked at each other across the table, before breaking out in laughter again.

“What now?”, you asked him with twinkling eyes, definitely not ready to go to bed yet.

“Well, I have an idea,” he laughed, pulling out his wallet to pay for dinner, waving off your complaints. “Come on!”, he exclaimed, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the restaurant.

“Tada!”

Proudly pointing towards the room filled with arcade games, he grinned at you with sparkling eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh for the 1000th time that night. How that well dressed businessman ended up being the biggest kid by heart was mystery to you, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

You spent the next hour running around, besting each other in the different games, until you were thrown out by the security for being drunk around the kids using the machines. As you tried to apologize to the guard, Jin dragged out of the arcade hall and into the movie theater right next to it. Throwing an arm over your shoulders, he steered you towards the popcorn and soda machines.

“Aren’t we supposed to pay for this?”, you giggled in a whisper, when he simply started pouring soda into cups, and handing them to you.

“Where did your sense of adventure go, miss artist?”, he winked at you, as he filled a box with popcorns, before pushing you in front of him into the movie theater, giving a nod to the man at the entrance and slipping him a bill without you noticing.

“I can’t believe, we just did that,” you giggled with excited eyes, oblivious to the fact, that you actually hadn’t done anything wrong.

“You’re a criminal now, love,” Jin smirked, pulling you down into the seat next to him. “Better stick with me, so I can bail you out, when you get arrested.”

Mock laughing at his words, you threw a handful of popcorn at him, making him widen his eyes in surprise and whine about how you were ruining his hoodie with the butter.

Stumbling into your room a few hours later, both of you giggling like teenagers, Jin put down the beers and snacks he had bought on the bed.

“If we’re doing a sleepover, I need to wear my pajamas,” he shrieked loudly, making you shush him a bit with a giggle. “I need to be comfortable!”

“Then change into your pajamas,” you giggled. “You don’t need to tell the entire hotel, Jin.”

Shrugging off his hoodie, he walked to his bag to get his pajamas out. Stumbling a bit in his tipsy state, he started laughing at himself as he struggled to find what he was looking for. Finally, he pulled out a pink striped pajama, making you fall over in giggles on the bed.

“You really do like pink,” you laughed with tears in your eyes.

“Well, excuse you,” he huffed in feigned annoyance. “It is a great color and it really makes my eyes pop.”

Walking into the bathroom to change, he left you alone on the bed. Blinking a few times to clear your vision, you suddenly realized that you were way more drunk, that you had thought. Stumbling towards your own bag, you remembered that you didn’t have anything to sleep in with you. All you had was a pair of shorts, a dress and an extra pair of underwear. Shimmying out of your pants, you quickly put on the shorts, before looking around the room for something to wear on your chest, eyes falling on Jins hoodie. He wouldn’t mind that, would he? In your buzzed state, you decided to just do it, quickly discarding your shirt, and pulling the hoodie over your head and moving back to the bed, grabbing a beer on the way.

“What do you…” Jin started, when he walked back out in the pink pajamas, trailing off when he saw you wearing his sweatshirt. “What are you wearing?”

“Your hoodie,” you answered with a soft smile, holding up one of your sweater paws. “I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t have anything else to sleep in.”

You were practically drowning in fabric, and it made you look so much smaller than you were. Combined with your bare legs and rosy cheeks, you looked like a cuddle dream to Jin, making him blush a bit at how domesticated his thoughts were.

“No, it’s fine,” he chuckled. “You look cute.”

Handing him a beer, you patted the space next to you to get him to join you on the bed.

It only took you 10 minutes to start singing along to songs blasting from your phone’s really lousy speaker. As you failed to hit a specifically high note, Jin snorted out a laugh at your attempt.

“I really hope, you’re not a singer,” he teased with sparkling eyes, making you shrug your shoulders. “Oh, come on! Just tell me, please. Do you work with art in any way?”

“Can’t tell you,” you giggled, touching your nose with your index finger. “Spoilers,” you added in a sing song voice.

Two beers later, you were both very much both drunk and sleepy. Having opted for a more comfortable position, Jin was now lying in bed with his head in your lap, and your hands combing through the strands, while your phone played some music in background.

“You know, when I heard, that I had to wait 18 hours for the next plane, this was not, what I imagined happening,” he chuckled sleepily, humming at the feeling of your hands in his hair.

“Yeah, me neither,” you hummed. “I thought, I would have to stay away from you and awkwardly stay awake, so you wouldn’t try anything with me while I was sleeping,” you laughed, making Jin huff in annoyance.

“Excuse me, but I am proper gentleman. I would never try anything against your will,” he stated, crossing his arms to underline his point, which only looked ridiculous with his pink pajamas and overall soft look.

Rolling your eyes at his words, you ruffled his hair with a laugh.

“I know that now.”

Smiling confidently at your answer, he closed his eyes and let out a satisfied sigh.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Your hands kept combing his hair, despite him tensing up at your question.

“Hmm. Sure, but I might not answer it,” he answered, popping a piece of chocolate into his mouth.

“Does your father own the company, you work at?”, you asked softly. You didn’t want him to think you were judging him, but there had been several hints to his position in the company, and his blatant annoyance and indifference at the company made it seem like, he wasn’t there by choice.

Letting out a deep sigh, Jin looked up at you from his position in your lap.

“Is it really that obvious?”, he asked you with pleading eyes, begging you to disagree with him.

“Not obvious, no,” you smiled with a head shake, seeing him relax at your answer. “But you don’t seem like you enjoy working there?”

He huffed out a sarcastic laugh.

“I know,” he groaned, hiding his face behind his hands. “It’s the only cliché worse than this whole mess. The boss’ son doesn’t want any part of the company.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to get into politics,” he stated, confidence evident in his voice as he sat up from his position. “I have seen how much the bigger companies can get away with and how fucked up some of it is, and I want to change that.”

“Then why don’t you? And don’t tell me it’s because of your father,” you warned, seeing him already opening his mouth to retort. “Give me one thing that’s holding you back, that isn’t your father.”

Seeing him struggle to find an answer, you walked over to get the both of you a new beer from the fridge. Jin accepted the beer wordlessly, still lost in thought at your question.

“I can’t,” he stated, as he turned to your reclined position with a shocked face 10 minutes later. “There is no other reason.” Taking another swig of beer, he stared out into room in realization. “He is the sole reason I’m not doing it.”

Seeing his frightened features at the realization, you realized you had to soften the blow a bit.

“Look, I’m not saying, that means you have to change anything. But maybe give it some thought. All I can say, is that’s it’s a lot more freeing living your own life, instead of someone else’s,” you shrugged, as you leaned back against the headboard.

“Whose life were you living?”, he asked you hesitantly, feeling like he was allowed at least one personal question, since you had opened his bag of personal baggage.

“My grandmas,” you stated, voice having gone completely flat. “She was denied a long education because of marriage and was really pushing me to do one. So I did.”

“And?”

“And nothing,” you sighed. “I finished my degree, got a job I was miserable with, worked there for two years before quitting. My grandma doesn’t speak to me anymore. Says I’m wasting opportunities she was never given.”

Not really knowing what to say, Jin opted for opening his arms to give you a hug. Your first instinct was to move away, but come to think of it, a hug would be nice, and he probably needed on as well.

Shuffling into his arms, you felt them wrap around you, enclosing you in a warm pink embrace. For a few minutes you were both silent, before you started giggling.

“What?”, he smiled softly against your hair.

“Your hoodie smells like butter,” you laughed, making him swat your arm.

“I told you it would stain,” he pouted, before erupting in a chuckle as well.

“Can I ask you something?”, you whispered against his chest, feeling his heartbeat awfully close.

“You don’t have to ask me that every time,” he chuckled. “What is it?”

“Do you want to have sex tonight?”

Your tone wasn’t flirty or insinuating. You might as well have been asking about the time of day or the weather. But the question still made Jin a bit flustered.

“Eh. Ah. I don’t know.” He cursed himself for stammering before he continued. “I wouldn’t mind it, but it’s not something that has to happen,” he ended hesitantly, unsure about what kind of answer you were looking for.

“Okay.”

Your lack of explanation left Jin confused and very unsure about, what would happen next, as he tried to keep his hold on you relaxed and calm. But he couldn’t help his curiosity.

“Do you?”

“Not really,” you hummed, snuggling closer in his embrace. “But you are really nice to cuddle with, so I wouldn’t mind some cuddling.”

“I can do that,” he chuckled at your soft state, seeing you mold yourself to fit his body, and he tried his best to make sure you were comfortable.

“It’s not because you’re not pretty,” you mumbled drowsily. “Because you are fucking beautiful. But I like this memory as it is – playful, honest, happy.”

He laughed silently at your honest sleepy words, as he pulled the duvet over the both of you.

“I know, what you mean. There is no need to add sexy to that list,” he hummed, as he placed a featherlight kiss to your hair.

“Exactly.”

Turning off the lights, Jin pulled you closer to him and drifted off to sleep with the sound of your laugh reverberating in his head.

The next morning things were a tad awkward. The alcohol had worn off, and despite the comfortableness you both had felt towards each other it was hard to shed that feeling of being strangers. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since you had met.

Getting ready to leave the hotel, you worked around each other to get ready, taking turns in the shower, packing up your stuff and finally leaving the room. As you checked out, you assured the hotel manager that it had been a nice stay, and that you had made the best of it. Which was true, although not the extent that she was insinuation with a wink to you, after giving Jin a hungry look. Feeling a bit annoyed on his behalf, you quickly dragged him out of the reception with a final goodbye to the woman.

“We still have an hour, before they start boarding,” Jin smiled at you, unaware of what had happened at the reception desk. “Do you wanna do breakfast somewhere?”

“I’m really not much of a morning person, but if you’re okay with sitting with me in silence, while I drink my coffee, then sure,” you answered curtly, adding a short smile to make up for your tone.

“Sure, let’s get you some coffee.” Seemingly not affected by your tone, he started walking towards one of the cafés of the airport, all the while humming a song. Like some grumpy shadow, you trailed behind him, trying not to snap at the people bumping into you. Easily finding you a table, Jin asked you to wait there while he got the food and coffee. To tired to even question how he would figure out what to get you, you sat down at the table and stared out at the people passing by the café.

“Here is your coffee,” Jin said handing you the cup. “And here is some food.”

As he placed the chocolate croissant at the table in front of you, your face split into the first genuine smile of the day and you sent him what could only be described as heart eyes, making him chuckle.

“Yeah, I thought this would cheer you up.”

Settling himself across from you, he dug into his yoghurt as he watched you gobble down the croissant with a blissful smile on your face. When you took the first sip of your coffee, you realized that he had remembered that you liked it with milk, making you blush a bit at his consideration. Sending him a thankful smile, he just winked at you.

“Thank you. Not just for the food, but for everything,” you told him, as you were standing in line for boarding. You were not seated together, and you didn’t know if you would see him again. “I had a really good time.”

Smiling at your words, he pulled you into a side hug.

“Me too, but you don’t have to say goodbye yet. I was planning on giving you a proper goodbye hug, when we land in Seoul.”

Enjoying the comforting feeling of his embrace, you closed your eyes for second taking in the smell of his cologne, before the line started moving again.

“I would like that,” you smiled at him, before stepping forward to have your boarding pass scanned.

“Just in case I miss you in Seoul,” Jin stammered, as he joined you in the queue leading into the aircraft. “Could I have your number?”

“I don’t know, Jin,” you spoke hesitantly. “Maybe it’s best to just keep this memory as it is?”

You were hoping he would see it the same way, but the disappointment in his eyes told you differently, making you winch.

“Maybe you’re right. But I haven’t met anyone in a long time, that I was this comfortable with,” he told you in a sincere voice. “I would love to stay in touch with you, in any form you feel like would work.”

He gave you a soft smile, making your stomach flip in response, and as you tried to convince yourself that letting it stay as a memory would be for the best, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your cheek, before giving you a soft push down the aisle of the plane, where the queue had long moved on from the two of you. Still in a daze by his words and his kiss, you didn’t even realize, that he had reached his seat and sat down, before you turned around to speak to him, only to find an older woman in his place.

“If you’re looking for the handsome gentleman, he sat down in row 12,” she told you with a sweet voice. “I checked for you.”

Stammering out a thank you, you blushingly made your way to your own seat and burrowed yourself against the window and quickly popping in your in-ears. You only had 6 hours to figure out, what you were gonna do.

Searching through the crowd at the baggage carousel, Jin suddenly realized, that he actually didn’t know if you had any baggage to pick up. Despite his height advantage, he still hadn’t been able to find you in the crowd. The minutes ticked by, and the crowd thinned out, but still there was no sign of you. His own luggage had been circling the conveyor belt several times by now, as if assisting him in his search for you. When it had had its second solo round, Jin let out a deep sigh, admitting defeat as he walked to pick up it up. Walking through customs and passport checks, he tried seeing it as a good thing. Now the memory would be able stand on its own, almost like a magical fairytale of a time long lost. It was a nice ending, he nodded to himself. Although he wouldn’t have minded being part of your epilogue.

Shuffling through the arrival’s hall, he felt someone tap him on the shoulder, making him turn around and meet your soft features, which were spread in a soft smile.

“Here, I thought you might want this,” you spoke softly, handing him a folded piece of paper.

Accepting it, he just looked at you with a dumbfounded look, which only intensified when you stretched up to place a soft kiss on his lips, before turning around and walking away with a soft wave.

Still completely dumbfounded by your actions, it took him a few seconds to realized what happened, and when it did, he hurriedly placed the paper in his pocket, before running after you, only stopping when he reached the taxis. Once again, he found himself searching for you without any luck. You were already gone. Letting out an annoyed huff at your actions, he cursed himself for not running after you immediately. Pacing the pavement, he mused over what to do, when one of the taxis honked at him. Realizing you had left him with no possible actions, he let out a defeated sigh, as he got in the cab and told the driver his address.

Leaning back in the leather seat, he reached into his pocket for the piece of paper, you had given him. As he opened it, he was met with the drawing he had seen you make of one of the sunflowers. Smiling softy at memory of how he found you sketching, his eyes traced the pencil strokes on the paper. As he turned it over, he found a phone-number scribbled down in the corner and your handwriting underneath.

I would love to keep in contact. In any way you want. - Your airport artist

260 notes · View notes

smlyds · 5 years ago

Text

Sam x Reader (stardew valley)

Dandelion

Chapter 3

The next day, I woke up in the early morning and planted my new seeds and watered my crops. I also noticed I had some mail. One was a fifty dollar check for some sap and fiber I sold the day before and a letter from the joja mart in the east side of the town. I put the money in my wallet and decided to go to the town again to see if anyone had posted a request. The walk was as peaceful as the day before with the morning light shining through the trees, the birds singing and the quiet patting of my feet in the soft dirt. When I reached the town, I looked at my watch and realized it was still really early, only 8:26. That meant nothing would be open for another half an hour. I sighed and continued to the bulletin board with the calendar and request section. On the requests, a small paper was pinned that said,

If it’s not too much trouble, I would like someone to bring me a Joja Cola after my shift at Joja Mart. I will give you 3 dollars. Bring it to me at my house around 2:30! Thanks!

-Sam

I took it down and took and put it in my journal, deciding to buy a cola from the saloon for him. I still had about 6 hours until then, though, so I decided to spend some time at the beach, which lay at the southern end of the town. I walked through the town square, then the small graveyard and to the bridge over the river that led to the beach. It was a very nice beach. A small cabin was built in one corner, where Elliot lived. The sunlight shimmered off the water as waves crashed against the sand. A fishing dock stretched into the ocean, and a small building was built and the far end of it. I walked around the beach and found some shells, which I placed in my backpack, then decided to see what the building was at the end of the dock. I walked down it, the old wood creaking and bending slightly under my weight, which made me uneasy. When I reached it, I opened the door to see a small fishing shop. It had bait, fish and fishing poles all over. At the end of the small room, behind a counter, a tall man with a gray beard and a red hat and jacket stood.

“Hello there! Yer’ new here aren’tcha?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m (y/n),” I said.

“Well I’m Willy. It’s good to meet’cha!” He said with a hearty laugh. “So, d’you have a fishin’ pole?”

“No, I can’t say I do,” I responded, hoping he wouldn’t try to convince me to buy one. I was really bad at refusing things, so I knew I would spend what little money I had on a fancy fishing pole if he suggested I do.

“I just got a nice fiberglass pole, so If you’d like, ya can have me old bamboo pole,” he said, picking up the bamboo fishing pole he had referred too.

“Oh, I would feel bad to take that,” I said, though I did want it.

“I don’t need it, so there’s no reason to feel bad,” he said, handing it to me, and J took it.

“Are you sure it’s alright?” I asked, to which he replied with a smile and a nod. “Okay! I guess I will go fish then!” I said, walking out the door. I then proceeded to fish until 2:10, getting tons of great catches I could sell, then left the beach and bought a Joja Cola to bring Sam. After buying it, I checked my watch and saw that it was 2:25, so I walked quickly to Sam’s house, and thoughtlessly knocked on the door, taking out the note with the request. Today, a young boy with reddish hair and brown eyes who seemed to be about 7 answered the door.

“Hello stranger!” he said.

“Hi! Is Sam here?” I asked the boy.

“Yeah, I will go get him,” the boy responded, going back into the house. A moment later Sam stepped out, and I felt myself get a little nervous.

“Hey there Farmer!” He said in a bright and cheery tone.

“U-um, hi,” I said awkwardly. “I saw your request on the bulletin board.” I said, handing him the Joja Cola.

“Oh, cool! I’ll go get my wallet,” he said, almost going back inside.

“You don’t need to pay me, it was only a dollar,” I said quickly.

“Well, on the request, I said I would, so I am going to stick to that,” he said with a smile.

“Well, then I will just use that 3 dollars to buy you a pizza or something,” I said stubbornly.

“Alright, then let’s get some pizza, on me.”

“Huh?”

“I will go get my wallet,” he said, smirking at me and going inside. After a moment, I processed what he had suggested and started to blush. He quickly came outside and said, “alright, let’s go to the Saloon!”

“A-alright,” I said, walking with him down the street and through the town square to the Saloon. “Also, let’s sit at the bar, because the chairs are tall and it’s more fun that way.”

I smiled at that suggestion, as I always felt the same way when picking where to sit.

“Thank you, for the pizza,” I said quietly, still blushing, but trying my best to hide it.

“No problem! This seemed like a good opportunity to make a new friend so I thought I should take it,” he said happily. He quickly ordered a pizza from the Saloon’s owner, Gus.

“So, have you lived here your whole life?” I asked in an attempt to make small talk.

“Nope, I moved here from Zuzu City about 6 years ago,” Sam said.

“Oh really? Do you prefer it here,” I asked curiously.

“I think I probably prefer the city. Things seem to move slower here. There are some nice things though,” he said, pausing before continuing. “I might move back to the city once I have enough money saved.”

“That makes sense. I guess the country isn’t for everyone,” I said, a little disappointed.

“Of course, that’s just a maybe right now. I might stay. Anyways, why did you move here?” Sam asked.

“I got tired of working an office job and remembered a letter my grandfather left me that he said to read when I was tired of modern life, and it had the will to the farm, so I decided to pack my bags and go,” I said, resting my chin on my hands.

“Wow! I wish I could do something as spontaneously as that,” he said, seeming amazed, which didn’t make sense to me. “I couldn’t do that though,” he said, looking a little sad.

“It hasn’t been all that great, so don’t worry to much about the idea of it. If anything, I wish I had planned more,” I said in response.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right! It does seem like it would be kind of stressful,” he said with a laugh, his mood restored. I smiled.

“Here’s your pizza!” Gus said, placing a medium sized pizza between the two of us with two small plates.

“Thanks Gus!” Sam said happily. “Pizza is my favorite,” he said, taking a slice. I got one as well and took a bite.

“Wow! That’s really good!” I said, taking another bite.

“Yeah! Gus’s pizza is the best,” he said, already having eaten half of his slice, sauce smeared on his lips. I let out a small giggle. He laughed and said, “Y’know, you’re a lot of fun! We should hang out more!” I blushed and continued eating my pizza. We spent the rest of the day talking about random things, and I learned a few things about Sam, like how his favorite color is blue, he plays guitar and sings, his favorite drink is Joja Cola and that he has a younger brother named Vincent.

I spent the remainder of the day in my room doodling and thinking about how much fun I’d had with Sam. I hoped we would be able to do something like that again. With that thought, I went to sleep.

I woke up the next morning, the sun shining through the window of my one room house. It felt so serene as I stood up from my bed, which loudly creaked in reaction. I spent the morning farming and weeding, only to remember I needed to meet Emily at 10:30 with only 15 minutes to make it to town. Panicked, I ran down the path to town and made it to her house on time, my breath uneven and shallow. I looked at my watch, which read 10:28, and knocked on the door. A girl with blonde hair answered.

“Who’re you?” She said in a rude tone.

“I’m (y/n),” I said, pausing to breathe. “I’m here to have tea with Emily.”

“Oh, okay I guess, come inside and I’ll get her.” I walked in and took my boots off, looking around. It was decorated normally, with a bookshelf, and a coffee table which was surrounded by a small couch and a chair. The blonde girl, who had failed to introduce herself, walked to another room and came back a moment later with Emily.

“Hello, (y/n)!” She said, smiling cheerfully, bright red lipstick lining her small lips. “Take a seat. Oh! What’s your favorite kind of tea?”

“Thank you, I like peppermint tea. I hope that’s alright,” I said, sitting on a yellow chair next to the coffee table.

“I like peppermint tea, so it won’t be an issue. Haley, would you mind making the tea? I wouldn’t want to leave (y/n) by herself to wait,” She said to the blonde girl.

“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes and going back into the room she went to to get Emily.

“Sorry about her, she can be kind of rude. She’s my younger sister Haley, by the way,” Emily said, sitting on the small couch.

“She’s been fine, so it’s really no problem,” I said, feeling a little awkward.

“So, how are you liking Stardew Valley?” She asked.

“It’s nice here. Most of the people are very friendly, and farming has been a lot better than I expected,” I said in response.

“That’s good! We only moved here about 5 years ago,” She said.

“Oh really? Where did you move from?” I asked.

“Calico desert. It’s a lovely place,” She said, looking nostalgic.

“I’m sure it is,” I said. “I just moved from the city.”

“I can’t blame you for that. I’ve never liked the city. Too harmful to the environment,” She said in a serious tone, and Haley came in, setting out tea down. I quickly picked up my cup.

“That makes sense,” I said in response.

“Have you made any friends here yet,” Emily asked.

“Kind of,” I said, pausing for a moment. “Jodi is nice. I talked to her a bit. Also Sam is... nice,” I said, my cheeks warming as J looked into my tea. Emily giggled at me.

“I suppose you could say that. Sam is a good guy,” She said, smiling at me. I could feel my heart beat a little faster.

“Yeah. He got me pizza yesterday. It was so much fun,” I responded enthusiastically. Emily giggled again, and I started to take a sip of my tea.

“I hope I’m not overstepping any bounds, since we aren’t close friends or anything yet, but do you have a crush on Sam?” Hearing her words, I immediately choked on my tea and started blushing immensely . “Ah, sorry, are you okay?” Emily asked, sounding a bit worried. I coughed a few times.

“Y-yeah, I’m okay,” I said, though I was very embarrassed. “Also, your question was fine. I don’t think I have a crush on him, considering I barely know him,” I answered, but in that moment I knew I was lying through my teeth.

“Alrighty, if you say so,” Emily replied suspiciously. I could feel heat rising to my ears.

“Well, I have to go,” I said, downing my tea and setting the cup down. Emily laughed at me.

“Bye, then,” She said as I walked out of the door. I closed it behind me, closing my eyes to take a deep breath, only to be met by those gorgeous green eyes with blue and yellow specks. “S-Sam!” I shouted in surprise.

“Hey there, (y/n)!” He said cheerfully. I felt embarrassed knowing my face was still bright red. “Are you alright?”

“O-Oh, yeah, it’s just a bit hot,” I said, fanning myself, even though I thought it was very nice out.

“It is a bit hot. Anyway, I’m on my way to hang out with Abigail and Sebastian, so I gotta go! Bye, farmer,” He said happily, starting to jog away. I felt a pang of jealousy, wishing I could hang out with them too.

“Bye!” I said, giving him a weak wave.

“Don’t like him that way, huh?” I gasped, turning around to see Emily giggling at me.

“When did you come out here?” I asked, spooked from her sudden appearance.

“I have been here the whole time. You would’ve noticed if you weren’t so enraptured by Sam,” she said teasingly.

“I am not!” I said, lying to her once again.

“Alrighty. Just know, my door is always open if you wanna talk about it,” She said, ducking back into her house and closing the door. I blushed and decided to go home to collect my thoughts about the whole situation.

The walk home was long, and I felt uneasy the entire time. When I got home, I farmed and thought everything over, berating myself for getting a crush so easily on someone I didn’t even know. In the evening, I left the farm to go get something to eat from the saloon. When I arrived, the jukebox was playing a cheery tune. I sat at the bar and asked for some pancakes.

“You got it!” Gus said with enthusiasm, cooking them at a stove only a few feet away after handing me a small glass of water. I watched bubbles drift up from the side of the water in silence as I waited. “Y’know, I don’t know you, but you seem troubled.”

“How could you tell?” I asked.

“Running a saloon and seeing so many people makes it easy to read people’s moods,” Gus said, flipping a pancake. “If you don’t mind, can I ask what’s bothering you?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, just something dumb,” I said with a sigh.

“I know what it’s about!” Emily said, and I suddenly noticed her organizing wine bottles a few feet away.

“Emily?” I said in surprise.

“I work here, by the way,” she said.

“I figured,” I said in an accidentally rude tone.

“Well, if you don’t want to share, you don’t need to,” Gus said, handing me a plate of perfectly made pancakes.

“Thanks. These look amazing, by the way,” I said, taking a bite. “Mmm! Yummy!”

“Thanks! It’s taken years to perfect the art of the pancake,” he said in a serious tone. “Well, you seem to be okay again,” he said happily.

“Yeah, I feel much better than I did before,” I said, eating the pancakes faster, when the door opened with a creaking sound.

“Hey Gus!” A voice I recognized quite well said.

“Hey Sam,” Gus said in response, hearing Emily giggle at me in response the the redness suddenly coloring my cheeks. “What can I get you?”

“Could I get a Joja Cola?” He asked, sitting down next to me, giving me a quick wave.

“Of course!” Gus said, shooting me a glance, wondering what was wrong as he poured a glass of Joja Cola for Sam. “Are you okay? You’re kind of red?” He asked.

“Yeah, you were pretty red earlier, too,” Sam said.

“I-I’m fine!” I said quickly, looking at my glass of water.

“Are you sure? If you feel sick at all, you should go home,” Gus said.

“Really, I’m fine,” I said, and Emily laughed again.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Emily said, smirking at me, and I glared at her.

“Well, okay then,” Gus said, looking a bit suspicious.

“It’s good you’re alright,” Sam said, smiling and taking a sip of the Joja cola. I took a deep breath.

“Yeah, it would suck if I got sick,” I said, looking at my pancakes to avoid eye contact. I knew if I looked him in the eyes, I would be blushing even more than I already was.

“I don’t mind getting sick too much,” he said. “When I’m sick I don’t have to work,” He laughed at the end.

“Oh, where do you work?” I asked curiously, taking a bite of my pancakes.

“I work at the Joja mart,” he said, and I found myself looking at him frowning.

“I worked at Joja in the city, the jobs there suck,” I responded.

“Really? You must like farming better,” he responded.

“Farming is so much better! It’s a lot of work but it doesn’t suck your soul out like Joja does,” I said, stopping in response to Sam’s laughter. He really had a nice laugh, and it made me happy that I caused it. My cheeks started to warm once more.

“You’re funny, (y/n)!” He said, drinking the last of his cola and handing Gus money for it. “I have to go, so I will talk to you later!” He waved goodbye and walked out of the saloon, and my cheeks were burning from the unexpected compliment.

Once the door closed, Gus said, “so you like Sam, then?”

“Is it really that obvious,” I asked.

“Yes,” Gus and Emily said in unison. I blushed and sighed.

“I really hope Sam can’t tell,” I said, stressfully eating my pancakes.

“He is kind of dense, so you don’t need to worry about that,” Gus said, and I giggled in response.

“That’s a relief,” I said, finishing up the pancakes. “Well, thanks for these! They were delicious.”

“No problem, and they’re on the house today,” He said with a kind smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course!” Gus said, taking my plate.

“Thank you so much! Have a good night, Gus, Emily,” I said happily, leaving the Saloon.

I walked home with a clearer head, and a good feeling in my heart.

#fanfic #samstardewvalley #stardewvalley #xreader #samxreader

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justanalto · 5 years ago

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it’s q&a time!

tagged by the lovely @besidemethewholedamntime!

1. What is the color of your hairbrush? light blue or red, depending on whether my hair is wet or dry

2. Name a food you never eat. there isn’t much I don’t eat, but if I had to choose, a very specific melon candy that just tastes nasty.

3. Are you typically too cold or too warm? too cold! I got too used to university heating and now I’m cold all the time

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? willing myself to start my friend’s profile so I can build up my portfolio before deciding to get on Tumblr. or i was scrolling through Tumblr. i’m not sure.

5. What is your favorite candy bar? i’m pretty partial to a good kit kat bar, especially because they come in so many flavors!

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports event? how do we define professional? because I’ve been to a baseball game, but i don’t know if we’d call college sports games ‘professional’.

7. What is the last thing you said out loud? one of the lyrics i was harmonizing along to absentmindedly. couldn’t tell you which song it was, though...

8. What is your favorite ice cream? mint chocolate chip!

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? tea! leftover from this morning and kind of cold unfortunately

10. Do you like your wallet? yes! i bought it at camden market when i was in London last year. it’s made completely of cork and i call it my adult wallet because i spent my college career wandering around with my wallet on a lanyard/attached to my phone case.

11. What was the last thing you ate? ....a salad

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? lol no

13. The last sporting event you watched? the super bowl, I think? after that they sort of cancelled sports

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn? either cheesy or caramel. no in between.

15. Who is last person you sent a text message to? one of my friends, because we were discussing her diet coke intake

16. Ever go camping? i have! not for a long time, though.

17. Do you take vitamins? i’m trying to on a regular basis, LOL. when i do i literally have to take a whole mouthful of ‘em.

18. Do you go to church every Sunday? nope!

19. Do you have a tan? i haven’t had a proper tan since July 2018 because i spent last summer in the north of england/interning in an office environment. and now of course we’re all stuck at home

20. Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? Chinese food, because i can guarantee it won’t make me sick!

21. Do you drink soda with a straw? it depends. is it out of a can or a cup? or a mug? where am I? if it’s a can, no, I’ll just chug it straight out. if it’s in a cup, probably. in a mug, i’m probably at home, so no again.

22. What color socks do you usually wear? white ones....

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit? i live by the motto that you can speed to exactly 5 miles per hour above the speed limit.

24. What terrifies you? heights, this goddamn pandemic and turning out to be worthless

25. Look to your left, what do you see? my door with my honors college hat hanging on the doorknob

26. What chore do you hate? washing the goddamn bathtub. i HATE cleaning tile grout.

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? the Australian students I met while I was on exchange. either that or finding nemo

28. What’s your favorite soda? ginger ale. is that a soda? if not then Pepsi. I do miss vimto tho

29. Do you go into a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? usually i go in, but I can be convinced to use the drive-thru.

30. Who’s the last person you talked to? my dad. I asked him if he wanted me to make him a salad for lunch.

31. Favorite cut of beef? ribeye, probably.

32. Last song you listened to? ‘Grow As We Go’ by Ben Platt

33. Last book you read? I’ve been stuck on the same book for weeks -- “Into the Interior’ by Michelle Cliff.

34. Favorite day of the week? it’s quarantine, what are days anymore. jk i’d probably have to say either Mondays or Wednesdays, mainly because I know what day it is due to the fact that there’s new try guys content.

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards? ...no. but maybe i’ll learn to?

36. How do you like your coffee? past coffee and straight into espresso, and at that point, i take it only with the following dunkin’ syrups: thin mint, heath bar or red velvet. and then with a ton of almond milk. iced.

37. Favorite pair of shoes? either a pair of gray ankle boots I got two years ago or my black flower-patterned sneakers!

38. The time you normally go to sleep? 2-2:30ish? I’m trying.

39. The time you normally get up? 9, but whenever on the weekends.

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? sunsets for the sole reason that I’ve been awake to see the sunrise only a handful of times, one of them voluntary.

41. How many blankets on your bed? three, although I have accidentally kicked one to the floor.

42. Describe your kitchen plates. they’re round and white with a floral pattern around the edges. it’s nice and pastel, and I’m pretty sure we’ve had these plates since before I was born. there are some newer ones, but they’re kind of the same.

43. Do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage? anyone who knows me will know that i am an ABSOLUTE lightweight. i drink like a fresher, which is to say i drink mikes, Smirnoff ices, twisted teas, angry orchard and rekorderligs (rip rekorderligs, i haven’t had them since i got back from Europe and they’re fantastic). i also like pink moscato LOL.

44. Do you play cards? not in the way of poker or blackjack? I play the kids’ games, like 21 and Big 2.

45. What color is your car? silver

46. Can you change a tire? ooh, no...although I should probably try to learn...

47. Your favorite province? Tuscany province, because Florence is literally the only place I’ve been to that’s located within a province. other than Quebec, but I really liked Florence.

48. Favorite job you’ve ever had? i’ve had maybe 3 in my life and while being a temp was enriching, i worked at a dunks for a spell and kind of found a family there! so that was nice.

49. How did you get your biggest scar? went down a hill on a scooter, wiped out and almost got hit by a truck. it’s on my ankle.

50. What did you do today that made someone else happy? ha....nothing? although I hope my family appreciates that i did the dishes.

i tag: @swifteforeverandalways @crazyrichfilipinos @peacequack @coffee-esque and anyone else that wants to do it!

#re things #tag things #besidemethewholedamntime #re catches up on her tags

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quyennie · 5 years ago

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VAV Jacob

*Jia’s POV*

Jacob and Ziu were in my dance class. Baron was our instructor. He was a great dancer, but my eyes could only focus on Jacob. I started going because this class sounded like a fun way to get exercise and my friend told me about how cute the instructor was, but now I come only for Jacob. I need to introduce myself to him, but he’s so gorgeous and I’m so not.

“Hi, um I was wondering if you could help me with this move,” I say. Yeah, that sounded smooth enough. Totally not awkward or dorky. I show him the move.

“Oh yeah, I can help. Just roll your hips. Here, let me show you.” He grabs my waist and moves my hips so perfectly. “Like that. Now you try it.”

I try and he looks impressed. “Thanks so much. I’m Jia, by the way.”

“Jacob.”

“Nice to meet you.” He doesn’t need to know I already know his name and wish he would completely jump my bones in front of everyone in that room.

“You too. Hey would you like to maybe grab a coffee after this?”

Hell yeah. “Um yeah that would be nice.”

“Cool I’ll meet you out front when we’re done.”

“Okay.”

Time for class. I stand behind Jacob (don’t worry, I can still see just fine not that I’m actually paying attention to anything except the way his ass moves and how sexy he looks and what I’d love to go down after class).

Class is over now. Let me take a quick shower and meet him out front. I change into some jeans and a t-shirt and head out front. Damn he looks so good standing there in his jeans and white t-shirt. He smiles when he sees me.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” I reply.

We head off to the nearest cafe.

“So class was fun today.” “Yeah, I wasn’t very good though, but you were.” “Aww well thanks. You were pretty good.” “Nah, I wouldn’t have even been this good if you hadn’t helped me before class.”

“If you want, I can help you practice when we don’t have class.”

“Um yeah that would be amazing. Thanks so much.”

“No problem.”

We get to the cafe and order then sit down. I tried to buy my drink, but he refused to let me even get my wallet out. He’s such a gentleman. We talk and get to know each other. He’s 22; I’m older.

“Nuna, is it okay if I call you that?”

“Of course, that’s fine.”

“Nuna, can I tell you something?”

“Yeah what’s up?”

“I think you’re cute. Would you like to go out with me?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Do you not like me?”

Why does he seem so insecure right now. This boy is so confident and sexy when he dances, but he just seems so adorably cute right now.

“You’re the whole reason I come to class. I’ve had the biggest crush on you since I first saw you. Hell yeah, I’ll go out with you.”

He smiles so huge I think his face might break. It’s so cute.

From that day on, we’ve been inseparable. It’s been about two months now, and yet we’ve never stayed at each others places or even had sex. I swear I think about how much I want to fuck him every time I see him, how much I want him to bend me over and have his way with me. I swear I make all sorts of moves but it’s like he’s oblivious.

*Jacob’s POV*

So it’s been about two months since Jia and I started dating. She’s so beautiful. I know she keeps making moves to get me to fuck her and trust me I want to, you have no idea how much I want to, but I want it to be perfect for her. I don’t want her running off to any other guy because she thinks I’m only in it for the sex. I’m planning something big for us this weekend, and I’m finally going to fuck her brains out. I know she thinks I’m so innocent but I’m not. I wanna ravage her whole body, leave her completely marked and make everyone know she’s mine. I can tell she’s more than willing but I just need to make it special (and consensual).

*Jia’s POV*

“Hey babe, are you busy this weekend?” Jacob asked while we were hanging out watching movies.

“No thought we were just gonna hang out.” “Yeah. Hey do you wanna go on a mini vacation this weekend?”

“That sounds like fun. Where were you thinking about going?” Um.. does this mean what I think it means? Are we finally going to have sex? I hope so because I’m going crazy but I don’t want him to think I’m just in it for sex.

“I was thinking maybe to Busan and go to the beach and just relax.”

“Hell yeah babe that sounds awesome.”

“Cool. Make sure you bring a pretty dress because I wanna take you out for a nice dinner.”

“Okay, I guess I should go shopping then.”

“Alright go hang out with Michelle and pick out something nice.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you tomorrow after work then.”

Time to go shopping with my best friend Michelle. I’ve known her since we were kids. She’s actually the one who talked me into taking the dance class where I met Jacob. We go to a couple stores and I find this perfect black skin tight dress that comes down mid thigh with long sleeves and a plunging neckline. I’m going to make sure he rips this dress off me (luckily it was cheap so I don’t even mind). She helps me pick out some sexy lingerie and then we grab dinner and head home so I can pack.

The next day comes and I make it through work without letting anyone get to me. I’m just so ready to go to Busan and show Jacob everything I bought yesterday.

*After work*

I run home, take a quick shower, put on a t-shirt and shorts, and make sure I have everything packed before I sit down to wait for Jacob.

Hey babe I’m on my way over. Are you ready?

Yep I’m all ready. Just waiting on you. Hurry up

On my way!

I’m so nervous. It’s the first time I’ve ever spent the night with him since we started dating.

He pulls up and puts my bag in the car while I get in the passengers seat.

“Well don’t you look cute,” he says.

“Not any different than usual then.”

“Nope, you’re always cute.”

Aww he knows how to make me blush. After some more talking, singing, and driving for a couple hours we finally make it to place we’re staying at in Busan. He rented an entire house! What?! I was just expecting a hotel room.

We walk inside. “This place is beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” he says before he gives me the sweetest kiss. How can one kiss make me wet? I have to fuck him tonight no matter what.

“We have a couple hours before our dinner reservations. What would you like to do until then?”

I have quite a few things but we’re going to need more than a couple hours for that. Luckily we have all weekend. “Um, a couple hours isn’t that long. I want to look gorgeous for you tonight so I guess we can just chill while I do my hair and makeup.”

“Oh ok, that works. Not like you need any makeup and your hair is perfect already.” He’s so smooth. How can he always know the right things to say?

*Jacob’s POV*

She wants to look nice for me. She’s beautiful already. Tonight though I’m going to make her makeup run and ruin her hair that’s she’s going to take so long to do. I hope she doesn’t mind it.

She goes to the bathroom and I decide to just watch tv for an hour until I have to get changed. I’m mindlessly flipping through the channels, but I can really think about is what I want to do to her after dinner. My thoughts are far from the innocent look I normally have.

*1 hour later*

Time to go get dressed. I put on a black suit with a white shirt and a skinny black tie. I put a little gel in my hair and some cologne on then head downstairs. A few minutes later, she makes it downstairs. Holy shit! Do we even need to go to dinner? Can’t I just make her my dinner? She has on a short black long sleeve dress with black high heels. I can see the perfect amount of cleavage. I swear I’m getting hard already. Her hair is down in curls and she has eyeliner that accentuates the blue color of her eyes perfectly.

“Holy hell babe you look stunning.”

Jia’s POV*

I look amazing. His jaw dropped when I came down the stairs. “Holy hell babe, you look stunning.”

I laugh. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you were contemplating skipping dinner and just have me instead.” Yeah, that was bold. I just can’t wait until we get back here tonight. He looks so sexy in his white shirt and black tie.

We head out to dinner and it’s lovely. We go to this nice Italian restaurant and we just have the greatest time. The way he looks at me with that smolder in his eyes, I’m so wet.

We leave the restaurant and walk back to the car. He kisses me so hard with my body against the car before he whispers in my ear, “Tonight you’re mine,” then he opens my door and I get in.

All the way back to the house his hand is rubbing circles on my thigh. I swear he knows what he’s doing to me and he’s enjoying it. I look over at him and he’s smirking. I haven’t seen this side of him, but I am absolutely loving it.

*Jacob’s POV*

Why does she look so damn good and her lips taste even better. I know I should hold back but I think she can handle it. I have my hand on her thigh right now and I would love to slide it up even further but I’m trying to keep things reserved until we make it back to the house. I glance over at her and I can see the lust in her eyes. She’s dying for me to fuck her.

*Jia’s POV*

Finally we’re back to the house. He comes around and opens the door for me. I’m trying to hold myself back so I just grab his hand and look up at him and smile. That’s all he needed. Once we’re inside he’s got me up against the wall kissing me passionately.

“Do you know how fucking sexy you look tonight? I almost couldn’t keep my hands off you in that restaurant.” He’s leaving trails of kisses down my neck now.

“You didn’t have to keep your hands off me. I’ve wanted this forever.” I can barely muster enough breath to tell him. He’s sucking bruises on my neck and I’m barely holding back my moans. “Please fuck me Jacob.” “Tonight I want you to call me Daddy. Is that okay baby girl?”

“Fuck yes, Daddy.”

He picks me up and brings me upstairs. Once we make it to the bedroom he strips me before pushing me down on the bed and stripping himself.

“Baby girl, you’re so damn sexy. I can’t wait to get inside you, but first I wanna taste you.” He spreads my legs apart before kissing trails up and down my thighs. I can feel his breath on my pussy. He’s just teasing me now. “Please Daddy, I need you.”

With that, he kisses my heat then pulls my panties down and licks up my entire core. “Mmm” I can’t stop the moan that leaves my mouth.

“You like that baby girl?”

“Yes Daddy.” He continues teasing me licking up and down my slit before spreading my lips apart and slowly circling his tongue around my clit. Fuck it’s so good. He slowly inserts one finger while still sucking on my clit. He begins pumping it back and forth before adding another. He curls his fingers up to hit my gspot. “Right there, Daddy. Don’t stop. I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me baby girl. Let me taste your juices.” With that, I cum all over his lips. He comes up for air, face still glistening with my cum. “Damn baby girl, that was amazing.” He leans up to kiss me and I can still taste myself on his lips.

“Daddy, please fuck me.” What is this? I’m begging? Hell yeah, I’m begging. If this man can do this shit with his mouth what can he do with his dick.

He slowly slides in allowing me time to adjust before he starts a slow steady rhythm. I’m a moaning mess right now. It’s amazing. He starts to go faster hitting my g spot over and over again. “I’m gonna cum again Daddy.”

“Go ahead baby girl. You’re gonna cum for Daddy so many times tonight like a good little girl okay?”

I love his dirty talk. I’m cumming so hard. The sounds of his dick mixed with my juices is so sensual. I love it. He flips me over now he’s going hard from the back.

“Pull my hair Daddy.” He grabs a fist full of hair at the nape of my neck and pulls, “Fuck yes Daddy.” “You’re a nasty baby girl, aren’t you?” He smacks my ass. “You love having my dick inside you don’t you?”

Where did he learn to talk like this from. I’m in love. “Yes Daddy, I fucking love it.”

“What do you love baby girl?”

“I love having your dick in me Daddy.”

“That’s it baby girl. I’m the only dick you’re ever gonna fuck. This pussy belongs to me now. Say it baby girl.” “This pussy belongs to you Daddy.” “Good girl. Now cum for Daddy one more time so I can cum too.” A few more thrusts and I cum so hard. The aftershocks lasted for minutes. He rode them all out as he came deep inside me, the feeling of his hot cum inside me was amazing. He slowly slipped out and lay beside me on the bed taking me in his arms.

“Was that okay baby?”

“Daddy that was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“You know you don’t have to call me Daddy if you don’t want to, and I know it wasn’t that great.” “I love calling you daddy. You’ll always be my daddy. I love you Daddy.” I smile up at him.

“I love you too, baby girl.”

From that night on we had the most amazing sex ever almost everyday.

#vav smut #vav jacob #vav #kpop smut #kpop #smut #jang peng

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mldrgrl · 6 years ago

Text

What it Feels Like For a Girl

by: mldrgrl Rating: NC-17 Summary: I had several Anons, and one non-Anon, requesting a body swapping story where instead of Morris Fletcher and Mulder swapping bodies in Dreamland, it’s Mulder and Scully. So, here’s the result. Mulder and Scully swap bodies at a very inopportune time. (Or very opportune, depending on how you look at it). Note: I’m going to be honest here and say, I don’t think this is a concept that works well on paper. A visual medium serves this thing a lot better. Oh, well. A big thank you to @kateyes224 for being the first to get through it :D

As the blinding light in the sky hovers closer, Mulder takes hold of my wrist and squeezes. I can’t see past the light, now shining directly into my eyes so strongly that I have to put my hand in front of my face because squinting doesn’t cut it.

There’s a flash and a moment of equally blinding darkness where it takes a moment for my sight to recover itself. Morris Fletcher still stands grimly before us, flanked by military personnel who look a little too trigger happy for my taste.

“Come on, Mulder,” I say, but the strange thing is, I don’t hear my voice, I hear his. When I look to my right, he’s not there. When I look down, he’s still gripping my wrist, except I feel like I’m the one doing the holding. And then I’m looking into my own startled eyes.

“What the fu-?” she says, right about the time I’m blurting out “oh my God.”

“Mulder?” I whisper.

“Scully?”

We’re both interrupted by an impatient Fletcher, barking at us that we are trespassing on government property. She...he looks annoyed, clearly about to make an ill-advised retort and I shake my head at him.

“Come on,” I say, tugging on the sleeve of my own jacket. “Let’s just go.”

There’s an awkward moment of confusion as we move to the car, heading to our usual sides. Mulder stumbles over his feet and then tip-toes towards the driver’s door with miniscule, shuffling steps.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hiss at him.

“I can’t walk in these shoes!” he hisses back.

I don’t fit into the passenger side. I’ve never not fit into any space ever. But, here I am, knees folded up and knocking into the glove compartment. He’s not faring much better, unable to reach the pedals and clearly distressed about it.

“Maybe we should switch?” I suggest.

“Not until we get out of here and find out what the hell is going on. How do you...Jesus, I can’t reach anything!”

This is surreal. Whatever’s happening feels like a nightmare or a bad acid trip. I keep pinching the skin on my wrist trying to snap out of whatever this is, but it’s not working. Out of curiosity, I reach up and touch my face, feel my fingers scrape across the five o’clock shadow dusting my cheeks. This can’t be happening. This can’t possibly be happening.

*****

We don’t talk much on the way to our motel. I can’t speak for Mulder...well, actually, I am speaking for Mulder, currently, but I think it’s just too damn weird to try to talk to each other and hear someone else speaking. It’s jarring. We do agree on one thing though, and that’s the fact that we need to get back to DC as soon as possible.

Actually, we agree on two things. We get back to DC as soon a possible, and we don’t tell anyone about this until we know for sure what’s going on. To that end, I book a red eye out of Santa Fe and Mulder hastily packs up our motel rooms.

“Don’t you have any flats?” he whines, digging through my duffel bag.

“At home.”

“I feel like I’m going to break an ankle.” He takes tentative steps across the motel room, trips twice, and nearly takes a header into the wall, but I happen to catch him.

“You hurt me, I’ll kill you.”

He stands there wobbling like a baby giraffe. I’m afraid if I laugh at him he’ll think I’m enjoying this situation. Trust me, I’m not. Of all the messes he’s gotten us into, this one surely takes the cake. So, I just stand there, with my arms crossed, watching Mulder hobble back and forth until he can assure us both he isn’t going to fall on his ass in a pair of two-inch heels.

The flight home is the most uncomfortable flight I have ever been on. I prefer a window seat when I fly normally, but my whole body feels too long to fit anywhere but the aisle. Mulder, on the other hand, looks almost pleased with himself and leans back in the seat and stretches.

“This is great,” he says. “I’ve never had so much room before.”

As soon as I get my own body back, I’m going to kill him. Slowly. Using lots of torture.

Maybe it’s crankiness from the unbearable cross-country journey, or the awkwardness of being in someone else’s body, but as soon as the flight lands, I have the compulsory need to be as far away from him as possible. It’s so hard to look at him and see myself, but to know it isn’t me.

“I think we need to stick together,” he says to me as we head to the taxi line. “Just stay by each other’s sides until we come up with a way of fixing this.”

There’s a moment where he starts to put his hand on the small of my back out of habit, but his usual aim is thrown off by our change in height and instead lands directly on my ass. I jump.

“Mulder!”

“Wha-oh! Sorry.”

“Be careful.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“Well how would you like it if I smacked your a...nevermind. Have you come up with any solutions?”

“No. You?”

“None. I do think we need to behave as normal though. Go about our days like nothing unusual has happened.”

“Days?”

“We don’t know how long this is going to last, Mulder. Hours, days, weeks-”

“Don’t say months.”

“Years.”

“Years,” he barks.

“Keep your voice down,” I whisper, bending so our heads are closer together. I don’t think I’ve ever had to bend down to speak to anyone in my life. Why do I have to be so short and why does he have to be so tall? It’s a wonder neither of us has suffered a neck sprain in the past six years.

“How can you be so calm about this?”

“I am far from calm, but I’m not going to freak out in a taxi line.”

“Well, then what do you want to do?”

“It’s Saturday. We go home. We think on it. We come in on Monday, go over our ideas, and hopefully, one of us will have thought of something brilliant.”

“You want to split up?”

“I want to think. Which means, I don’t want to be distracted and I don’t want to get dragged into any other of your crazy schemes until I’ve had the chance to process this.” There’s a taxi approaching and we’re next in line, so I do the gentlemanly thing and open the door for Mulder. He reluctantly slides into the back seat and I hand over my duffel bag to him.

“Oh, and Mulder,” I say, just before I close to door. “Do not, under any circumstances, get me into any trouble. Just remember, I already shot you once.”

“Scully, I really think-”

I slam the door to cut him off. I just want to get home and come up with a solution.

*****

I am well and truly exhausted by the time I get to Mulder’s apartment, my home sweet home for the next...however long it takes to fix this mess. I want nothing more than to lay down, take a nap, and hope I’ve dreamed up something truly amazing by the time I wake up. What I didn’t count on was the fact that Mulder really and truly didn’t have a bed.

All these years, I really thought he’d been joking when he said he never got around to buying a bed since he preferred his couch anyway. He referred to his bedroom as the storage closet, and though I have glanced into it a time or two, all I saw were boxes. Surely there must be a bed hidden under there somewhere, so I thought. Well, I was wrong.

I almost called Mulder to berate him right then and there, first for getting us into this mess, second for not living like a proper adult, but what would that really solve? I’d still be without a bed for the foreseeable future. So, I did what a normal human being would do and I looked up the nearest mattress store in the Yellow Pages and drove down. I probably spent an hour trying them all out, found one I liked, and with the swipe of Mulder’s credit card conveniently located in the wallet in my back pocket, bought him a mattress and bedframe that would be delivered bright and early tomorrow morning. One night on the couch probably wouldn’t kill me.

With that done, I went to the mall and bought some sheets and pillows for the new bed and then on to the grocery store for food. I’ve seen the science experiments growing in Mulder’s fridge and, though I’m pro-science experiment, I’m anti-eating them. It also occured to me, once I got back and fixed myself a nice salad, I had better clear out all that junk in the storage closet so the bed would have a place to go.

In the midst of packing boxes and cleaning, I used the time to think. I don’t know though, something about being in Mulder’s body must have affected my brain, because the only ideas I could come up with were ones that he would’ve thrown at me. We could see a psychic. We could hold a seance. We could try time travel.

By the time I’m finished turning the bedroom into an actual bedroom, it’s past dinner time, and I do the most Mulder thing I can do. I order a pizza and sprawl out on the couch in front of a movie.

At this point, you’re probably wondering why I’m boring you with all this stupid, mundane crap when you must be thinking oh my God, you’re in an entirely different body, why haven’t you inspected it from head to toe and tried out all the...new body features. Well, look, I am curious beyond belief about what it’s really like to be a man, but I’m going to have to look Mulder in the eye again and I don’t know if I can satisfy a curiosity and still maintain a professional relationship after that. There are boundaries.

But, fine, I may have changed into a nice pair of jeans and a sweater within the full length view of a mirror, not that I was looking, but I think the few glimpses I caught will allow me to keep my integrity intact. I mean, and I did have to shower, so that was interesting. I didn’t attempt to shave, but I will compliment Mulder on the body wash he uses. It was very nice and I might try to find some with a more feminine smell when things are back to normal.

The only real challenge I run into is how to use the bathroom. It’s one thing to check out Mulder’s body, but another thing to touch certain parts that need to be touched, I assume, when one uses the bathroom. I mean, I didn’t know what would happen. Do I just stay still and hope it aims itself, or what if once I start it’s like an out of control fire hose situation? I know it’s not very manly, but I opt to sit down to pee. Mulder doesn’t have to know.

*****

It’s late I think, at least past 10pm, and I’m dozing on the couch when my cell phone rings. “Scully,” I mumble out of habit. “Um, I mean Mul-”

“Scully, it’s me.” There’s an edge to his (my?) voice that doesn’t sound good.

“Mulder?”

“You don’t...you don’t happen to feel like you’re dying, do you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh God,” he moans. “Scully...something’s wrong.”

“Mulder?”

“Something is really, really wrong.”

“Mulder, I’ll be right there. Don’t move.”

I’m off the couch in an instant, thankful for my suddenly longer legs that get me out of the apartment and down the block to Mulder’s car in what feels like two minutes flat. I’m also grateful that I gave him a key a few years back and I use it to enter my apartment about fifteen minutes later. All the lights are off. I call out to him and he answers from the bedroom.

I find him curled up on the bed, still wearing the same pantsuit I threw on before accompanying him on that wild goose chase to New Mexico. There’s just enough light filtering in from the street lamps outside to highlight the anguish on his face. Let me tell you, it’s a little disconcerting to see yourself in pain. I crawl onto the bed and put my hand on his forehead, but he’s cool as a cucumber.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“You don’t feel it?” he answers, lifting his eyes up to me.

“Feel what, Mulder?”

He bursts into tears and rolls away from me. “Why didn’t you tell me!”

“Tell you what?”

“I thought it must be an effect of whatever this thing is that’s going on, but if it’s just me and it’s not you, then it can’t be and it hurts so much. Scully, why didn’t you tell me the cancer was back?”

“What?” If I wasn’t panicked before, I certainly am now. “What the hell are you talking about, Mulder?”

“Your body is dying, I can feel it. I’m dying.”

“What hurts?”

“Everything! Everything, God, my head is...and there’s this pain in my back - I think it’s the kidneys. Scully, I think your kidneys are going to explode. And then the light was too bright and I feel sick and then like right here…” He presses a hand to his hip, a little lower and off center from his abdomen. “It’s like...I don’t even know. Something is happening right there, something bad.”

It dawns on my almost immediately and I do some quick math and think about the date. If it wasn’t so tragic, I’d laugh.

“Mulder, you’re not dying.”

“Do you think it’s appendicitis?”

“It’s not appendicitis either. You’re PMSing.”

“I’m what?”

“You’ll be starting your period tomorrow.”

There’s a monumental silence that follows as he stares at me, silent tears trickling down his cheeks. And then he gasps loudly and starts weeping.

“Why am I crying!” he chokes out.

“Hormones.”

“What am I going to do?”

I try not to roll my eyes. “You’re going to do what every woman since the dawn of time has done, you’re just going to deal with it.”

“But, I have no idea what to do with...the things and the...you know…”

Yes, I do know. And a few moments ago I’ll admit I was feeling a little smug about Mulder having to getting to experience what it’s really like to be a woman, but he’s got to experience that in my body, which means…hoo boy. And of course he’s not going to know how to handle the finer details of a menstrual cycle, which means it’s going to be up to me to show him. What other alternative is there?

I’m never going to New Mexico with him again. In fact, I’m never going anywhere with him again. This is all his fault. If not for his stupid, wild goose chase, Mulder wouldn’t have cramps and I wouldn’t be on the verge of showing him how to use a tampon. Jesus, but there’s another even more embarrassing conversation we’re going to have to have in a minute and it’s going to make the rest of it seem like a picnic.

“Alright, Mulder, I have medication I’m going to get for you,” I tell him. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” He wipes his eyes with the backs of his hands and I slip off the bed.

I grab the prescription bottle from the medicine cabinet and fill the water glass on my sink. I consider for a moment just leaving it as this - giving him the pills and walking away - but, I can see him behind me in the mirror, doubled up on the bed, probably praying for swift and sweet relief and I know all too well what it’s like and how it feels to just want someone, anyone to come take care of me when it’s as bad as this. So, I have to bite the bullet and get him through this the best that I can because in a way, I’m doing this for myself.

“Take these,” I say, handing him two pills and the glass of water when I return to the bedroom. He sits up, just enough to swallow them down and grimaces as he tries to lay down again onto his back. I put the bill bottle and the glass on the nightstand and stare at the top drawer for a few moments before I sit beside him.

“Thank you,” he whispers, shutting his eyes. That’s good. It might be easier to talk to him if he’s not looking at me.

“Mulder…”

He sort of grunts-slash-whimpers in response. I reach over to gently untuck his shirt from his slacks. “Why haven’t you changed?” I ask. “I’ve-you’ve been in this suit for two days.”

“I didn’t feel right about it.”

I unbutton the top button on the slacks and rest my hand low on the bare skin of his abdomen. I press down, slowly increasing the pressure.

“Oh,” he breathes with a sigh. “Your hand is warm. Oh, that’s nice.”

“I know.”

He puts his hand on my wrist like he’s afraid I’ll move away.

“You need to get undressed,” I whisper to him, making a gentle circular motion with my hand. “You need to get more comfortable.”

He doesn’t move, although he gives a tiny shake of his head and his brow furrows slightly. He grips my wrist a little harder. “I’m good here.”

“Come on,” I tease. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“It isn’t right.”

“You have my permission, Mulder, if that’s what you need so we can deal with this.”

It’s an interesting thing to watch Mulder’s expressions of struggle play out on my face. I can see him even if I’m looking into my own eyes. It’s bizarre. But, then again, I’ve always said I could read his face as easily as I read my own. I just never imagined for it to be so literal.

“How about this?” I say. “You’re the only one that can take care of my body right now and I need you to do what I ask of you because you’ll get sick if you don’t. I trust you.”

That seems to do the trick. He nods a little, but still clutches my wrist.

“I was wrong when I said we should go about our days like everything is fine. You were right, we need to stick together on this, so I’m not going anywhere. I’ll get you through this, I promise.”

“Okay.”

“What’s going to happen right now is, I’m going to go into the other room. You’re going to get undressed. You’re going to open the top drawer of my nightstand and you’re going to take out the blue velvet drawstring bag.” I pause. “Um, I’m sure you’ll figure it out from there. And when you’re doing, take a nice hot bath and go to bed. As for tomorrow...we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Mulder stutters, taking a vice-grip on my arm. “Are you asking...no. No, no, no.”

“It’s okay. You just need to do this and...it helps. I promise.”

“No way. For one thing I’m not...and for another it’s...no, Scully, I can’t.”

“Listen, the medication alone isn’t going to solve everything. I’ve learned over the course of dealing with this for the last 20 years, so you’re going to have to true me.”

“I do trust you, Scully, but I’m not...I’m not you.”

“You do know how to bring a woman to or-”

“Yes! Yes, but that’s different. And it’s...it’s what you said before, this is your body.”

“Which you’re currently occupying. If you think I’m not dying a little of mortification right now that I have to explain all of this to you right now, you’d be wrong. But, I’m telling you, from personal experience, that an orgasm increases the blood flow to the uterus and contracts the muscles, which will ease the cramps you’re having now. It also releases dopamine and endorphins, which are going to make the migraine you’ve got building up to go away and will let you sleep. So, there’s a really nice, really expensive, very trustworthy vibrator in that drawer and if you just...tonight is going to be a lot easier for you to handle if you do what I tell you to.”

“No.”

“Mulder!” God, but his stubbornness is exasperating.

“You do it.”

“I can’t do it. You’re me and I’m you.”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly, so-”

“You know what to do. You do the thing with the...thing. That way you’re the one taking care of things.”

Oh my God. “Well, that’s not really…”

“See. You can’t tell me it’s okay for me, but not for you, if your argument is you’re me and I’m you.”

“I mean, that is the argument, but then if I’m involved, it would really be you that’s involved because I’m you and you’re me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, it’s the exact same argument for why you should versus why you shouldn’t.”

“Well, I’m sorry, this is the first time I’ve been in someone else’s body and I don’t really know what’s okay and what isn’t!”

“Scully, I can definitely tell you it’s not okay to ask me to masterbate in your stead because I don’t even think it would technically count as masturbation since I’m not you. So, if you want this body to get off, you’re going to have to be the one to get it off because it’s your body, not mine.”

I realize this argument has gotten a little out of hand and though we’re not quite shouting, it’s louder than it probably should be. I take it back down to a decent level. “Alright,” I say. “I see your point.”

“Good. So, I’ll go ahead and take that hot bath if you get a swimsuit for me and as for-”

“I mean, alright, Mulder.” I know this is insane, but I really do see his point. I also know that if he’s up all night in pain, if he doesn’t get any sleep, if he can’t shake that headache or the cramps, it’s only going to get worse from here. He’s leaving me no choice.

“You mean...wait, I don’t know if…”

“We both agree. It’s my body, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” First thing’s first, we need to get him undressed. Maybe what I need to do is stop thinking about him as Mulder, but as me. We need to get me undressed. “Sit up,” I say.

He does as I ask with quite a bit of hesitation and doesn’t look at me. But then, he lifts his eyes and I sit back as the air leaves my lungs. He’s reclined slightly, hands pressed back behind his hips, a little flushed, hair mussed, smudges of mascara under his eyes, and I have this moment of complete awe. He looks...I look beautiful. It tightens my chest and sends a flutter to my gut.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks.

Christ, Mulder, I think. I want you to stop looking at me like that. There’s fear there, but also trust, and expectation, like I have all the answers to all the questions in the world. It’s making me feel flustered and incompetent. Is this why Mulder always stutters when we argue?

“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, and I feel the heat rise to my cheeks in embarrassment.

“You are, you know. I mean, you say that like you have no idea.”

“Okay, maybe this really wasn’t-”

“Scully.” He puts his hand on my cheek and it feels soft and delicate, but it feels like Mulder.

“Take your shirt off.”

His hand slides away slowly and then he pulls at his shirt from the back of the neck, typical man. I stop him before he can stretch it out and break any threads in the collar. I happen to really like that shirt. I take it up from the bottom and he lifts his arms to help draw it off. He blinks a few times. I have to lean into him to reach around and unhook his bra. Surprisingly, I fumble slightly, unaccustomed to the length of my own fingers.

“You smell like me,” he says, and I can feel his breath against my neck. It raises the hairs on my arms and stirs my groin. Oh God.

“I had a shower,” I answer, pulling back.

“Oh yeah? How did that go?”

“Nothing to say about it.”

“Did you look?”

“Look at what?”

“It’s okay if you did.”

“Mulder, I’m a doctor.”

“Hm.” He studies my face for a moment and then lays back and closes his eyes.

I lay down as well, on my side, propped up on an elbow, and put my hand on his chest, palm between his breasts and fingers splayed. My chest, I remember. My breasts. I start with a soft caress, knowing how sensitive and achy my chest would be right now.

“I should tell you,” he says, cracking one eye open a little and shifting his gaze down to my waist. “Sometimes...he’s got a mind of his own. I don’t know if anything will happen, but right now my hand is on a beautiful woman’s breast, so you might want to start thinking of Santa Claus.”

“Santa Claus?”

“I don’t know why, but it helps.

“Okay, thanks for the warning.”

He closes his eyes again and takes a deep breath. My hand rises and falls with his chest and I pick up where I left off, this time slowly sliding the back of my hand around the curve of his right breast. His mouth opens a little and he takes another deep breath. I take my thumb and circle over and around the nipple, gentle enough so that it’s hardly a touch at all. He bites into his bottom lip and scratches at the bedclothes.

It feels like there’s electricity in the room, humming between our bodies. I’ll blame it on the charge and say that it’s what compels me to lean over and kiss his neck. I know the spot to hit, just below the ear and at the edge of the hairline. For whatever reason, it’s always made me light up like a Christmas tree. He whimpers, and one knee bends up ever so slightly and then slides back down, but his brow furrows like he’s in pain.

“Mulder?”

“Yeah?” he squeaks, and then clears his throat. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

It takes a few seconds to answer and he shifts his hips. “Um, I think so.”

“Open your eyes for me.”

He blinks rapidly and then holds his eyes open to mine. They’re wide and dark, but when I sweep the back of my hand down along his side, they droop almost sleepily. It’s encouraging and I move on, bending my neck to place my lips against the top swell of his breast, with gentle suction, just how I like it. His knee slides up again, higher this time, and bumps the side of my hip. Without thinking, I catch his leg, hand wrapped around the inner thigh, and hold it there, slightly open, as I work my mouth down and across his chest.

He breathes my name and his fingers suddenly slide into my hair, first one hand and then the other. Damn, but it feels good. I’ve always loved the soothing act of having my hair washed at a salon, but it’s incomparable to having nails scratching at your scalp and thumbs skimming your nape. It’s like I can feel it in the roots of my hair down to my toes.

Before I know it, I’m looming over him like it’s a natural move to make. I know at this stage when I’m with a man, I’d be pulling him into that perfect cradle between my thighs where they fit so nicely, but the compulsion for me right now is to slide into that space myself. As I sink down, I’m conscious of what the weight of a man is like, pressing you down, making you feel more delicate than you are at times. And I’m conscious of just how much larger I feel. The body under mine, my body, feels vulnerable, and I have the urge to protect it, to treat it carefully, and by extension, to protect Mulder, treat him carefully as well.

“Is this alright?” I ask.

“Mmhm,” he says, shifting beneath me. His bent legs are pressed to my hips and his hands move to my shoulders and then I begin to waver.

I’ll be completely honest here, I have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t engage in any foreplay when I’m by myself, mostly because I don’t need to, but even if I know the ins and outs of my body, I don’t know what it feels like for Mulder right now. I know what I’m feeling like in his body, and all the images of a fat, bearded man in a red suit that I’m trying to conjure up are no match for what’s happening to me.

It’s insane, I know, but this has got to be the single most erotic thing that’s ever happened in my life. And I also I know that the brain is a powerful organ, but it’s a mind-bending concept to be able to touch yourself with someone else’s hands and not recognize your own body. As it happened, I had to wonder, has my breast always felt this soft and heavy, or is that just how it feels in Mulder’s hand? Has my abdomen always felt so smooth? Has my hip always curved so invitingly?

And I’ll be damned if the ache of arousal is any different now than when I’m in my own body. The pressure is the same, if not a little lower in the pelvis. The heavy, swollen feeling between my legs is the same, but with a different consequence. And yet, I’m still overwhelmed with the urge to grind my hips into the bed, just as I would if I was myself.

I make a move to back up just a little lower, and oh my god, the friction and the pressure is both delicious and unbearable. I reflexively groan a little and Mulder opens his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Fine,” I breathe, recognizing the hoarseness in my voice as the same one I’d encountered on occasion from knocking on our connecting motel doors and being told ‘just a minute.’

I move up and off of Mulder to sit back on my heels. His eyes travel down to my lap and back up again when I unzip his pants. The pressure against my jeans is tipping past the border of pleasurable to painful. ‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house…

I grit my teeth, wiggling his pants off his hips and drawing them down his legs. I notice with a little bit of relief that even if he couldn’t manage to get undressed, he did at least remove my socks and shoes. All that he’s wearing now is navy blue panties, not the sexiest pair I own, but it could be worse.

Faced with this moment though, this turning point, I have to pause. He’s aroused, I can see it and I can smell it. I’m aroused, which is becoming more and more painfully obvious with each passing second. So, what do we do about it? Should we keep running from what I’m fairly certain we’ve both wanted for quite some time, or do we give in and experience something no one else on this planet has likely experienced before? Jump or turn back?

“Mulder, I...I asked you to take care of my body for me and I never...I should’ve asked if you want me to do the same.”

“You looked, didn’t you?”

“Of course I looked.”

“Did you like what you saw?”

“I want this. I want this if you want this, but I need your help.”

“You need a hand?” He smirks and reaches for the fly of my jeans.

“I want you to show me what you like and I want you to tell me how it feels for you.”

“Well, the first part’s easy. I like everything.” He sits up and pushes my open jeans off my hips, a little rougher than I would have, and takes the boxers down with it. Without any hesitance, he wraps a hand around my shaft, making a tight fist, and tugs up once, leading with the thumb to circle the head lightly.

“Holy mother of fuck,” I groan. His grip remains firm and his rhythm is steady. He twists his wrist just a little with every upwards jerk of his hand. It’s not the slow climb towards ecstasy I’m used to. There’s an immediate gratification that comes with it, but also no satisfaction. I want more, but it’s also too much. “Sss...stop…” I pant.

He releases me and I swear all the air leaves my lungs with a whoosh. I already want the feeling back. Instead, I lean over and kiss him. It’s not what I expect it to be and I’ll admit, I’m a little letdown, but I suppose that’s only because I’ve fantasized about being able to run my tongue over that pouty lower lip of his. We both pull away with as though the disappointment is mutual.

I’m overwhelmed by a feeling of bashfulness and as I look down and sit back, suddenly remember that I’m still fully clothed. Nervously, I take off my shirt and then I have to lay down to kick my shoes and pants off. And then I just lie there, fully naked, staring at the shadows on the ceiling.

“Hey,” Mulder says, laying down beside me putting his chin on my shoulder. “We don’t have to do this.”

“I know we don’t. I want to though, it’s just…”

He takes my hand, twines our fingers together and then brings them to his chest. I can feel the swift thump of his heart which matches the beat of my own, quick and strong. I roll towards him so we’re face to face, nose to nose. He leans his forehead against mine.

“I wouldn’t do this with anyone but you,” I say.

“Me either.” He let’s go of my hand and reaches down to slide the panties off. “Is it weird that I keep thinking how much I want you inside me right now?”

I shake my head. “Not unless it’s weird that I keep thinking about how much I want to be inside you.”

“I want to know what it’s like to feel what you feel.”

“I do too.”

“How do you want to do this?”

“How about just like this?”

“Okay.”

But, neither of us really know how to start. We make some abbreviated movements towards bringing our bodies together, but fall short. Finally, I take his leg and pull it over my hip. I don’t know if I want to watch his face for this moment, or if I want to watch us. Ultimately, I settle on us and leave it up to Mulder to guide me inside.

We don’t magically come together like I’d imagined. There’s fumbling and just as I feel myself start to ease into his warm, wet folds, he let’s go and I slip away. He grips my shoulders, breathing hard, and I reach up to push away the hair that’s fallen in front of his face.

“You okay?” I ask.

“It’s different. Stings a little. I don’t want...I don’t want to hurt you somehow.”

“It’s just for a moment, I promise. You won’t hurt me. But, if it’s too much, or too soon, we can slow down.”

“What if I’m not ready? How would I know?”

At first I think he means emotionally, but it’s the follow up question that changes things. And since he has no first-hand experience, that’s true, how would he know? I reach down between his legs and dip my middle finger inside. He tenses and I can feel the resistance of his body.

“Relax,” I whisper to him.

“I’m trying.”

I understand his nervousness. I think back over my first few times during sex, when it felt like an invasion of my body, no matter how much I wanted it. I adjust my hand, pull my finger out slowly just a little, and then slide back in, curling it as I do. I must admit, having longer fingers makes hitting my target a lot easier. His mouth drops open with a sharp gasp and his hips push forward into mine.

“Good?” I ask.

“Uh huh.”

I do a bit of lazy exploration with my thumb, skimming indirectly over the sensitive little bud that’s going to ultimately make Mulder’s toes curl, before I bring it out of hiding. He moans and pulls my hip closer with his thigh.

“You have to tell me,” I say.

“It’s so fleeting. I don’t know.”

I slow down and make exaggerated circles with my thumb, increasing the pressure and tightness of the motion little by little. I know when I’ve got it just right when his hips roll forward, but then he jerks back and my hand slips free.

“Oh, that was…” his breath hitches.

“It’s okay. Move with it, not away from it.”

We start over from the beginning, but quickly find our way back to before. My hand cramps a lot quicker than usual, but quitting isn’t an option. Fortunately, he’s learned quickly how to match the rhythm of my hand with his hips. There’s just one more thing I think he needs for me to get him there.

“I want you to try to squeeze my finger,” I say.

“What?” he breathes.

“Think about those muscles down there, and try to squeeze.”

His inner thighs tighten against my hand.

“Not the legs. Inside. You can do it, you just have to concentrate on it.”

A determined look comes over his face and I slow just enough to make him want it that much more. “Oh, don’t stop,” he says, just as I feel the slightest bit of pressure against my finger.

“I’m not.”

“Don’t stop, don’t stop. Oh, Scully, that’s...oh…”

He tenses and rocks forward. His nails dig into my shoulder and it sends a jolt of desire straight down my own body. The heavy ache I felt earlier is becoming tight and painful again. I slip my hand out of Mulder and wrap it around my shaft, just as he’d done earlier. There is a need in my gut like being thirsty with a glass of water just out of reach.

“I need you,” I murmur. “Mulder, please.”

“I need you too.”

With less fumbling this time around, I manage to push guide myself inside. And oh my god, to be enveloped by the heat and the wetness and the tight grip of his body is just...oh my god. But, Mulder is whimpering, making a short little gasps in the back of his throat and I stop halfway in and hold onto him.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he breathes. “Nothing, this is just...it feels so...it’s so different.”

“You feel amazing.”

“More. I want more.”

“Are you sure?”

“All of it. I want to feel all of you. Please.”

I push deeper, until our hips meet, and then I stop and relish the moment. Our bellies press together, our thighs are twined, our chests expand together with every breath and I actually don’t know where I start and end any longer. When I move, he moves. When I put my arm around him, he puts his arm around me.

The pleasure sensation is different, more acute, more like tingling pressure. It drives my hips forward. The rapid beat of my heart matches the quick pulse between my legs. Blood rushes through my veins, heats my chest, swells in my groin. I have the urge to move faster, but this position has me restrained.

I stop, only long enough to roll Mulder onto his back and press up on my knees. The new position forces Mulder’s legs wide apart and I take his right leg and drape it over my shoulder. He grips my ass impatiently and I slam my hips back into his, grinding down a little with my public bone this time.

“Oh my god,” he cries out. At least, that’s what I think he says. It’s one long exhale and a groan, but that’s what it sounds like.

I have to agree though. Oh my god. Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod. Everything below my pelvis starts to tighten. This must be it. I can feel the release is imminent. And Mulder’s got that pinched-brow expression of deep concentration again. I can feel him. I can feel him pulling me deeper, squeezing me tighter, and my eyes start to roll back in my head.

“Oh god, oh god.” I’m not sure who yells it, but I know I feel like a bottle of champagne that’s just been uncorked. All the pressure that’s been rising up explodes into stars behind my eyes. The force of it is so strong that I can’t breathe. I can only groan and quiver. Beneath me, Mulder is also moaning softly. The heel of his left foot digs softly into my ass.

I’m on the verge of collapse and muster up enough strength to pull his leg from my shoulder and turn onto my side. I want to weep when I feel our bodies disconnect. I reach for him just as he reaches for me and we twine together again, a lot stickier and sweatier than before.

“Wow,” he says.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t move.”

“Me neither.”

“You were right about the orgasm thing though. It’s like the cramps never happened.”

I chuckle a little. “That’s good.”

“And, like, Scully...twice? In a row? It’s not even like a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am kind of way either, those are just...wow.”

“It’s not always like that.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Huh.” He stares up at the ceiling and considers this. “Does that mean I should be flattered, or should you?”

I laugh and shrug a little. Mulder presses his cheek to my arm and sighs. Laying here like this doesn’t feel that strange at all.

“Do I still need that hot bath?” he asks.

“You should. Even if it’s just to clean up.”

“You want to join me?”

“Yeah. Sure. I might need a minute.”

“Should’ve warned you. Sex makes me sleepy.”

“Not me.” I yawn.

“I’ll go get the bath ready.”

“Okay.”

“Scully, about tomorrow.”

“Heating pad, Advil, and you’ll get to learn how to use a tampon. Wait, there was a short in the wire of my heating pad. I had to throw it out. We’ll think of something.”

“Yes, I can’t wait, it’s going to be great.”

I chuckle again, this time with my face pressed to the mattress and my eyes closed.

“But,” he says. “What I mean is, what happens tomorrow? Where do we go from here?”

“First we figure out how to get things back to normal. And then...and then we’ll see.”

“Okay, I’ll go run the bath.”

“Okay.”

*****

I wake up with the sun on my cheek, a soreness in my thighs, and a twinge in my abdomen. I pick my head up and turn it to the other side. The bed is empty.

“Mulder?” I sit up and look at my hands. My hands. I’m wearing a pair of flannel pajamas I don’t remember putting on.

I get out of bed and walk through my empty apartment. Something feels off. I feel like I’m in a dream or I’ve just woken from one. And where is Mulder? But, wait, why would Mulder be here?

I return to the bedroom and stare at my bed. I can feel flashes of my dream or a memory bubbling up to the forefront of my mind, but they’re also not quite clear. I’m making love with Mulder, but my body isn’t my own. I am Mulder. My cheeks flush. How strange.

My thighs though. They’re sore and ache in only the way my thighs will ache after a night of passion. Why would I wake up with Mulder’s name on my lips? I pick up the pillow next to mine. It smells like him. It smells like us.

I find my cell phone in my duffle bag by the front door. I remember packing a bag to go to New Mexico with Mulder, but almost nothing after that. I call his cell, pacing in front of my table as it rings.

“Mulder,” he answers.

“Mulder, it’s me.”

“Hey, Scully.”

“Mulder, were you…?”

“Was I what?”

How do I ask him if he was here last night? How do I ask him if this blurry image of the two of us in my head is real? And if it is, well why did he leave? It can’t be real. I’m just being ridiculous.

“Nevermind,” I say. “I think I had a weird dream or something.”

“Hang on, Scully, someone’s at the door.” I hear him open his door on the other end of the phone and a distant conversation. “A bed? I didn’t order a bed.”

I gasp and hang up. I ordered the bed. I remember. Oh my god.

*****

An hour later, Mulder shows up at my door and I open it, but I don’t move back to let him in. He sighs and leans his head against the jamb and then holds a gift bag out to me.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“It’s a heating pad.”

“Why did you leave?”

“Can I come in?”

I back up and let him through. He’s wearing what I wore yesterday, what he must have picked up off my bedroom floor this morning before he walked out.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I want to know why you left.”

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “When I woke up this morning, I was a little disoriented. I didn’t know where I was or what happened. I thought at first that I might have been drugged - that we may have been drugged.”

“And then?”

“And then things started coming back to me in pieces. It was like deja vu at first, but then I remembered the lights in the sky and you being me and...the rest of it. And I remembered you telling me that you didn’t know what would happen after things were back to normal, and I was afraid that you would wake up and be embarrassed or regret what...or that you would shut me out and we’d never acknowledge it or speak of it again.”

“I’m sorry you felt that way.”

“I don’t remember everything. There’s parts that are clear and parts that aren’t. I do know that, for me, it was pretty incredible.”

“It was for me too.”

“Well, yeah.” He grins. “The only time I crash hard like that is when the sex is really good. I mean, like really really good. So…”

I feel my cheeks get hot and I look down at the gift bag in my hands. Some men bring women flowers. Mulder brings me a heating pad.

“You bought me a bed, huh?” he says.

I huff at my feet and nod slightly. He shuffles closer, takes the bag out of my hands and puts it on the table. I pluck at the blanket hanging off the back of the couch.

“Guess I was past due,” he says. “There is one thing I think we need to settle though.”

“What’s that?”

He cups my face and leans down. This time, I get to taste that bottom lip of his that I’ve always wanted. It’s even better than I dreamed.

The End

#xf fanfic #msr #i wrote this #humor #dreamland #there be sex here

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ferritin4 · 6 years ago

Text

Titans Together part 2 (Gen Jon Kent/Damian Wayne)

A follow-up to This First Installment of my mildly absurd headcanon about aged-up Damian Wayne and Jon Kent, based off of the recent, and now ongoing, runs of Tomasi’s Super Sons. The first post got more interest than I expected -- the amount I expected was “none” honestly -- so I’m putting this up as well for you few who thought it was fun. It is fun. It’s a fun ship. This is set on the same visit, the next day.

—

“I have a meeting with my advisor,” Damian said, stepping over Jon to get to his desk. Jon pulled his blankets back onto the air mattress and rubbed his eyes.

“Cool,” Jon said. “Is the cafeteria open on Saturday mornings?”

—

The cafeteria was open.

Damian had demanded he go to some restaurant in town where Damian knew someone, but that didn’t matter. Jon hadn’t even intended to stay the night, but if he was here, he was here, and he wasn’t Damian. He could eat at a normal cafeteria like a normal person.

It was pretty sparse still, because Damian got up at like four thirty in the morning every day — Damian slept between zero and four hours a night most days, which still freaked Jon out a little bit, but if he was going to have a heart attack or a seizure or something he probably would have had it by now — so Jon was showered and dressed in his jeans and boots and one of Damian’s plain white t-shirts by five thirty. Damian didn’t just wear t-shirts around anymore, of course, and this was supposed to go under a dress shirt, but Jon wasn’t wearing one of Damian’s dress shirts. No way.

It was pretty warm for September, but he still needed something between a t-shirt and his jacket. Damian’s dorm or whatever was like, a whole studio apartment, with a closet that Jon probably could have slept in instead of next to the desk where Damian kicked him in the side by accident every time he wanted to get a new pen or something.

Damian probably would’ve kicked him in the side by accident even if Jon had slept in the closet. Jon had spent more than enough time in the Titans headquarters. He knew how Damian operated.

Damian had a couple of sweaters that didn’t look too fancy, for Damian. Jon had pulled a dark red one over his head and gotten his wallet and headed out.

The breakfast in the dining hall was eggs and bacon and stuff. Jon got like six pancakes at the pancake station; he was hungry.

“Hi,” he told the person at the cash register. “I gotta pay with money, like. I’m not a student. If that’s okay.”

“That’s fine,” the cashier said, and then the person behind Jon said, “I — are you — um, Kent?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jon said to Ms. Braxton, who looked even smaller standing up. Her hair was in a very ineffective headband and she was wearing a hoodie, pajama pants, and house slippers.

“Wow,” she said.

Okay?

“Good morning,” Jon said.

“I can get your food,” she said suddenly, apparently recovering from whatever she’d been thinking, and shoved forward to give the cashier her ID card.

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” Jon said. “I can pay for my breakfast, Miss, uh, Braxton. For real,” he added when she blinked up at him.

“You remember my name?” she said. “And, no, I got it. It’s not even real money. It’s part of my tuition.”

Isn’t your tuition paid for with money? Jon thought, but it wasn’t like he didn’t know Damian. It wasn’t like he didn’t know a whole lot of people who ran billion-dollar companies and bought newspapers and banks and thought things like it’s not real money, if they even thought about it at all.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Jon said, following her to the condiments station. “Why wouldn’t I remember your name?”

“Because you were busy getting grilled by the devil himself?” she said. “I think I go into, like, a fugue state most of the time. Like my brain is trying to die while my body’s still alive.” She pumped a giant pool of ketchup onto her plate.

“Oh, yeah,” Jon said. He shrugged as well as he could with a tray in his hands. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. I guess I don’t know if it ever did? But I get it.”

“Other profs don’t bother me,” she said, steering them toward a table. “I’m not, like, a wimp, but he’s like — he’ll fail you as soon as he’ll look at you, did you know that? And he’s, like, I don’t know. He’s so mean. You have no idea.”

“He can be pretty mean,” Jon conceded, tucking into his bacon. He wasn’t going to sit here and try to convince someone that Damian Wayne wasn’t an asshole.

“So,” she said.

“Mgnh?” Jon said. He swallowed. “Yeah? Oh, I didn’t really introduce myself.” He wiped his hand off on his napkin. “I’m Jon.”

“I’m Hafsah,” she said with a weird look on her face. “Mitchell said your name was Jon.”

“Mitchell?” Jon said. He took a sip of his coffee. It tasted okay, but it smelled kind of funny. Whatever, it only cost a dollar.

“Derek Mitchell? He was sitting next to you?” she said, and Jon bit his tongue so he didn’t say, oh, sure, Sweater Vest.

“Yes,” Jon said instead. “He didn’t tell me his name.”

“We don’t talk a lot in that class,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Usually. You did.”

Jon put half a pancake into his mouth and chewed it while he tried to figure out what she was getting at, but it didn’t really help.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said finally. He hadn’t. He had mostly planned to ask Damian about it after class, if he remembered or if Damian hadn’t explained it already by then.

“Do you work with him?” she said, out of nowhere. Jon frowned.

“No?” he said. “He works here?” It was kind of a lie, but like, he didn’t think she was acting weird and confused because she’d figured out the whole Teen Titans thing.

“Liam Kendry, who is a tool and stalks all his professors online like a creep,” she said, “says that he works for some defense contractor sometimes. And that he works for his dad’s company.”

“Well, okay, yeah, but he’s been doing that since he was like si— sssoo long ago,” Jon said. Damian would have had his ass for that. “He works here,” Jon added in an effort to distract her from the world’s lamest half-lie. “He goes to school here. And that’s not how I know him. I’m just here to hang out with him.”

“What?” she said. “You’re here to what?”

“Hang out?” Jon said. She stared at him, eyes nearly as big as Sweater Vest’s — Derek Mitchell’s — had been.

“Is that some kind of weird slang for like, a start-up tech company thing? Or, like, some kind of military exercise?” she asked.

“No,” Jon said a little more sharply than was polite, because he was getting tired of this. “He’s my best friend. We grew up together. We hang out! We watch movies! I made him go mudding on the farm last spring, he hated it,” he added, smiling.

Hafsah’s mouth opened, but she didn’t say anything. It stayed open.

“Are you okay?” Jon asked.

A small piece of potato fell out of her mouth and landed on the table between her plate and her lap.

“Oh my god, that was disgusting, I’m so sorry,” she said, snapping back to life and frantically attacking it with her napkin. “Okay gross, gross, sorry. Ew.”

“It’s okay,” Jon laughed. “Are you okay?”

“Um,” she said. “I don’t know. You seem so nice.”

That was a real non sequitur, but she seemed awfully sincere.

“Thank you,” Jon said, trying not blush. “I, uh. I try to be.”

“Wayne doesn’t,” she said decisively, and Jon didn’t even try to fight his smile.

“No,” he said, “no, he really doesn’t.” He forked the last of his pancakes into his mouth and took a drink of coffee. Something in his coffee still tasted a little off, or smelled weird. It was cafeteria coffee, so he didn’t want to be mean, but it was definitely getting worse.

“Did you really hug him at the end of class?” she asked, her eyes a little wild. Jon grinned.

“He hates that too,” he said. “But he had it com—”

That wasn’t his coffee. Shit.

“I gotta go,” he said, lurching out of his seat. “I’m sorry, I just — remembered something I forgot to do.”

“You what?” she said, but he was already gone, bolting out the doors and onto the quad.

Shit, shit, shit, where was it coming from? Where was his map? Something was burning, something chemical and strange, and Jon didn’t know where anything was, where were the science buildings — he punched CALL on his phone and started running toward the smell. Thank God it was still early. Nobody was out, nobody was there to see him and say, hey, man, are you —

“I am in a meeting,” Damian’s voice said, sharp and annoyed. “Which I know I told you.”

“Where are the labs, the science, like, the lab buildings?” Jon cut in. “Dami, something’s, I don’t know where, something’s on fire and it smells like nitrogen, or metal.”

“Four hundred yards southwest of Waterstone,” Damian said. “This meeting is over,” he said, not to Jon, “I will reschedule at my —” and Jon hung up.

He rounded in the corner, past Waterstone Hall, up a flight of weirdly broad stairs. There were two buildings, pretty much identical, looming up, and where was it — oh. Oh no, he could see the smoke in the windows of the third floor.

Nobody was coming. There was nobody anywhere, no sirens. Smoke was starting to trickle out one of the windows, but no one was helping.

Well, Jon thought as a dark shape landed on the roof. Not no one. Not anymore.

Nobody was out here, though, which meant Jon could fly up and kick in the emergency door on the third floor fire escape without anyone calling the cops or a TV station.

Damian ducked in through the break room window as Jon came down the hall, and oh, whoa. Shit had been the right word. Yikes.

Smoke was pouring out the open door to the lab at the end of the hallway, acrid and sour and foul. Jon’s eyes were burning; his mouth felt like he’d been chewing on pennies.

“Fuck,” Damian said, covering his mouth. “Even I could smell this from the dining hall.”

“Why isn’t the fire alarm going off?” Jon said. “This should be,” he stopped.

“What?” Damian said. He punched the plastic box of the fire alarm until it cracked, then ripped it off the wall. Wires fell out in a tangle. “There's a short in the system. Jon?”

“Somebody is in there,” Jon said in horror.

He could hear their heartbeat.

The fire alarm surged to life, suddenly screaming.

“Okay,” Jon said. “Okay.” He could barely see the door through the smoke, but they were in there and they were alive, and he could find them if he listened hard enough.

“The local fire department’s response time to this location is an average of eight minutes,” Damian said. Jon turned to look at him. “So stop just standing there, Kent.”

Jon smiled.

“Right,” he said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

The lab was a blinding, suffocating wall of smoke, and Jon shut his eyes against the sting and listened.

They were… to his left. Somewhere to his left. He tripped over something, a chair or a stool, but it wasn’t burning. Some of the furniture was on fire, but most of the flames were coming from a fume hood on the far side of the room, nowhere near him, near him or near them.

They were right under him before he was sure of it, but they were breathing. A woman, in jeans and a puffy vest that had half melted in the heat of the room. She was breathing, she wasn’t moving but she was breathing —

Something made a very ominous cracking noise behind him.

He felt it before it happened: a wet splash of liquid on the floor as a bench collapsed and a pipe burst, and then a thunderous shudder of bottles and jars tumbling and rolling toward the side of the room that was mostly flame, and then that awful, familiar inrush of air before an explosion.

He dropped to cover her just in time.

The windows blew out; one of the lab's doors ripped off and went crashing out into the hallway. A piece of a desk hit Jon’s back, hard, and the ceiling on the far side of the room let out a miserable, terrible groan and started to sag.

Jon grabbed her and ran.

Damian wasn’t in the hallway, and Jon spared a terrified thought that maybe the lab's door had hit him, and he was — no, of course not; he was in the break room, halfway down the hall.

“Put her here,” Damian told him. “Is she breathing?”

“Yeah,” Jon said. “Hang on, hang on, I gotta,” he stripped the melted vest off her and threw it on the floor. Damian’s fingers were at her neck. He had a bottle of water from somewhere, and he was opening it as she began to cough.

“Oh, whew,” Jon said. “Wow.”

Damian looked over at him, his eyes sharp chips of green. Jon heard the heavy footsteps of the firefighters start up the stairs on the ground floor.

Damian’s gaze flickered down to Jon’s chest, then back up.

“Oh,” Jon said, looking down. Damian’s sweater was hanging off him in burnt strips, and the whole left shoulder of his t-shirt was missing. His jeans and shoes were okay — he’d kind of laid down next to her and curled up — but there was no way he looked like he should have all his limbs.

“I, uh, I think I need to leave,” Jon said.

“We need to leave,” Damian agreed. “The easiest roof access is just to the east of the window.”

“No, I need to leave,” Jon said. “You need to stay here and explain the fire alarm, and the getting her out of the lab and stuff.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Nobody asks why they didn’t die in a fire,” he said.

“Somebody was obviously here,” Jon said.

“And when they’re gone, no one will—”

“She didn’t crawl out here and onto a table and not —”

“People do all kinds of things in critical, life-threatening situations,” Damian snapped.

“Not like this,” Jon stalled.

“Jon,” Damian said suspiciously.

“In here!” Jon yelled as the firefighters burst through the hallway doors, and then he lunged for the window.

He caught Damian’s eyes as he scrambled up to the roof, and boy, was he doubly glad he was impervious to fire today.

#jon kent/damian wayne #dcu #dc comics #batfam #jon kent #damian wayne

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