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waitingformyfavoritesongs · 2 years ago

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13 March 2023 Monday 11:56 am pdt

I forgot to look at the time probably after 11:17 am pdt on the news west valley college is on lockdown Bcz of an armed intruder. They were still waiting for police to arrive I think.

this timing is too eerie to be a coincidence. This college is in Saratoga. 11:59 am pdt I wonder if the red door house is near this place in the supposed Sierra LaMar hoax message. 12 pmpdt

10:23 pmpdt unfortunately I didn’t do enough reading on the 2009 cases they connected to antolin Garcia Torres. One source said he was 17 years old & the attacks happened at night? How big was Torres at 17 years old? Is it possible the witness accounts were altered? Did they go to trial for these cases & the original witnesses identified him? Did he have an alibi? Could it have been a doppelgänger? There was once a case of mistaken identity in a crime? A n innocent doppelgänger got the blame. Where would have Torres got a stun gun? Taser? At the age of 17 years old? 10:28 pmpdt I thought I originally read one of the women was punched by a tattooed arm. Where did I read that? Does Torres have tattoos on his arms? Didn’t look like it from one video. 10:29 pmpdt

1:09 am pdt 14 March 2023 Tuesday

December 2016, I thought the incubus was trying to tell me without saying it, that he was actually “Brendan” the guy I talked to online & the phone in 2001. He messed with me all 2017 about it, but near the end of 2017 when I started to notice the pictures w/ Q like the Halloween pilot costumes, I got punished for retailiatung by posting those links. Incubus zapped me w/ lighting to probably my ovaries after behati posted the bath picture with the peach emojis, & when gio was born & she posted the baby toes they cut round feeling organs brutally dragging a sharp edge in a round shaped motion. It was so harsh it made my eyeballs roll back as he did it. For mins now it feels hot acidic sharp in my ear 1:18 am pdt I don’t believe in the incubus. What he mislead me to believe in 2022. It was quite a show, giving me that hair on the cookie container. I think the incubus miñion took it back Bcz I couldn’t find it b4 leaving the apartment & my mom won’t look at the gio video on Instagram to confirm that her eyes are brown. I think the incubus is making her afraid to look. I’m alone in this. 1:22 am pdt

1:43 am pdt nausea minute ago burned hot acid on right side back skull. There’s nothing that is going to stop him from destroying my body. One day I noticed Brendan junior’s dad wearing jeans w/ embroidered eagles on the back pockets & I recalled jeans I described to “Brendan” on the phone in 2001 also had angel wings embroidered on the back pockets. I said it out loud near the kitchen window & I think he heard me. I think I remember he changed his pants after that? Cramps stomach 1:49 am pdt I think they were maybe saying it wasn’t him. I once saw Brendan junior wearing an LA cool sweat shirt. I thought maybe it is from the incubus. 1:50 am pdt Xmas time they put Xmas lights on the balcony rails & one of the lights was in the shape “NY” as if proudly displaying New York pride. 1:52 am pdt Brendan junior’s dad’s friend parked next to our bedroom window & Brendan junior climbed (acid pain vag 1:53 am pdt) & the speakers suddenly blasted loudly “New York! [...] bright lights will expire you!” I think it was that song. 1:55 am pdt I saw Brendan junior’s dad talk to the roofer b4 the roofers removed our roof & we were roofless for a night & there was a cut out in the ceiling & I used a broom to push it open & saw the night sky so I stayed up all night to keep watch. We weren’t given warning about that part at all by anyone. 1:58 am pdt

2:01 am pdt incubus plan ahead to mess with my feelings. My sophomore year yearbook 2001 has handout lines (autocorrect) all over it w/ different patterns & colors. “Paint a picture w/ my hands�� Sunday morning. Album released 2002? Hands all over maroon 5(vag acid pain 2:05 am pdt) album w/ Rosie on the cover in bed. I only realized it last year, & then the Sunday morning lyrics connection this year. 2:07 am pdt probably doesn’t change anything. I’m not married. I never gave birth to anyone. Therefore seeing is believing. & being not sick is believing. With the horrible way his parents & him probably run things , including stuff w/ dugard, & the abuse I think if incubus is not really my husband then I’m luckier that way. Bcz he seems to be a nightmare. 2:11 am pdt

2:13 am pdt I want to be dead.

2:21 am pdt I don’t know if Brendan was rich. If he wasn’t, & if he was friends or related to the incubus, & incubus had a lot of money, enough to screw up a semester of college by not attending almost the whole semester, then I guess he had money he can easily do with out. 2:24 am pdt incubus went to French woods camp probably a lot in New York. A lot of opportunities to hang out with Brendan. 2:25 am pdt what I was trying to type was maybe Brendan didn’t have time to screw around but incubus did. Doors. Slamming 2:26 am pdt

2:58 am pdt while I was in the bathroom on the toilet, incubus... it felt my inside groin maybe inside uterus got chemically burned... horrible awful feeling... the whole thing. Very cruel. Kiera knightley. Key era. Knight lay. On the ground. Ippon. (Vag acid pain 3:02 am pdt) probably means when she was born that there are no more heroes? Makes sense w/ the dugard case. I’m jinxed so I can’t mention anything else. It doesn’t matter to him that I prayed & wanted his help to intervene. He’s probably still blaming me for everything. He gives to those he wants to give & he didn’t want to help me out in that moment unfortunately. I don’t know what happened. But if he did answer my prayer he didn’t want to tell me Bcz he didn’t want me to have a life & he wanted me to condemn myself. 3:08 am pdt acid pain back mouth throat 3:09 am pdt I already condemned myself after 2002 whenever I remembered something I did. I sabotaged myself a lot I think. 3:10 am pdt it seems he wanted to raise the bar so I would really be completely consumed with doom. 3:12 am pdt

Incubus is heinous & cruel. I don’t want him & I wish to never think of him again (right shoulder pain 3:13 am vag acid pain) 3:14 am pdt

4:07 am pdt incubus is a monster. = the world will always be full of monsters.

8:26 am pdt after what the incubus did to me, I don’t believe there is any going back to believing that he is my husband or a good guy. Kick = okay I sick. The worst thing I probably did to Q was keep coming back to her Bcz I didn’t have many friends & Bcz I hoped that I would like her again. There were times I didn’t want to hang out came the day & one of us would cancel on the other. I was late sometimes Bcz I had bad time management for some reason. 8:30 am pdt the end of 2017 was probably the first time I did anything mean to Q. 8:31 am pdt somehow for some weird reason even though she had many other friends to hang out with, she told me I was her best friend. I wanted to be able to reciprocate to someone. Unfortunately I tried to fit myself through that hole that I didn’t fit that I wished I could have fit. 8:33 am pdt pain left side neck on/off for maybe 2 days? I can never believe in the incubus again. I did lie when I was a kid about the weirdest things (autocorrect? Thong. It don’t matter it’s probably another incubus lie 8:35 am pdt). I did my best to confess even though it was extremely difficult for me on many levels. Maybe I didn’t tell it perfectly but I got the biggest details close enough to the truth if it isn’t 100%, it’s probably 99% truth considering a lot of time has passed & his ability to alter memories. 8:37 am pdt incubus still called me a liar by putting acid to my tongue & every lip. 8:38 am pdt in my head he made me feel like a liar. Even I think I remember when I talked to k.o. About Scott & I wanted to stop & had difficulty stopping & decided to not hang out anymore Bcz I couldn’t control my mouth to stop talking about Scott, & I felt wrong to talk about Scott. I don’t remember what I said but I remembered it had something to do with him. 8:40 am pdt through autocorrect it looks like he’s telling me (acid pain throat 8:41 am pdt) I’m wrong even though I have very distinct memory about this without remembering the words, bcz I had an emotional reaction to myself Bcz I really wanted to change & I thought it was for the better. 8:42 am pdt but maybe it was not? I cannot determine this until I remember what exactly I said. 8:43 am pdt but now I know incubus is lying to me (acid pain throat 8:43 am pdt) & what he did is probably major damage & irreversible. 8:44 am pdt I can never go down that road again to believing in him again. Bad guy. 8:45 am pdt maybe I treated Q well enough for her to really think she can get away with lying to me like that? Or maybe she thinks she treated me well enough for her to lie like that to me? 8:47 am pdt

10:23 am pdt hypothesis: incubus does not have a dad bod Bcz he’s still hunting/ on the prowl? For younger women. Lecherous. 10:24 am pdt

12:18 pmpdt I wanted someone who would give me a chance without expecting s*x within 4 weeks of meeting each other. I wanted time to grow. I should have settled for that one guy I started seeing in late 2005, but physical attraction was an issue for me especially with my first boyfriend (vag acid pain 12:21 am pdt). There’s obviously a double standard that it’s an absolute that women must be healthy and attractive & that we don’t have to be attracted to the man. The first guy I thought I fell in love with said something to me that I shouldn’t be with someone who “has problems”? Something I thought he was talking about physical attractiveness. My dad was a little like that Bcz he liked slender women. I shouldn’t have been looking for someone to be attracted to & fall in love with. I guess Bcz if incubus it’s impossible for me & I have a curse. Cosmopolitan magazine back in 2010 wrote something about pheromones & women being attracted to those who compliment genetically their immune systems. I don’t know if it’s true or if it’s invented by incubus. (Stress trig btwn big toes & second toes he’s pushing further inward 12:28 pmpdt) with my curse it was sometimes difficult to stop an action & change course - probably a marionette thing. 12:29 pmpdt sometimes it was hard to say the right thing probably Bcz of the curse, too. 12:30 pmpdt I hope that doesn’t happen again. But knowing the incubus it’s bound to happen again. 12:31 pmpdt it feels like he’s going to continue splitting my feet until my big toe is completely off. 12:32 am pdt this world is heinous. & it’s the voice at the top. 12:33 am pdt once I had the same idea as a partner in class, I don’t remember his name. I was so stunned that we had the same idea at the same time when he told me his. As usual I had difficulty explaining myself & I fell into a big hole in communication. I hate speaking in public, infront of classes. I was usually shy & shook a lot out of being nervous to stand & speak infront of class. Also when the teacher said he would Call on random people. 12:38 pmpdt

news of cremation business stored bodies in a warehouse 😞 no resurrection. Ocean view. Hayward? 12:39 pmpdt

I thought he was psychic. Possibly I was psychic. I should have assumed that. & he told me to be the one to talk infront of class Bcz it was his idea to draw the shadows? Or something like that. & I messed up. I said it was my idea when I should have said it was his. I remember he wore thick black frame glasses. He might have been American Korean but American born from the way he sounded. He probably held a grudge against me Bcz if that. I hope he told the teacher on me so he got proper credit. My last year at UCB I had to deal with a lot of big eczema openings in my skin oozing & getting stuck to pillow cases & bedding (acid pain throat). I took oral & topical antibiotics at least 3 times probably in that year while I was there & I had difficulty getting classes on time. 12:45 pmpdt the incubus blames everything on me. After someone called my place I’m blossom hill before Valentine’s Day 2002 to say “Brendan” used the work cell phone to call many teen girls, my mom told me not to lie to her & it was difficult for me to lie to her for long time after that. Maybe it was if I had atakrn taken (12:49 pmpdt) a truth serum Bcz I felt it emotionally that I couldn’t lie to her after that. So I told her I wanted to meet derick. 12:48 pmpdt

1:39 pmpdt Christina grimmie is probably really dead. Incubus showed tears. 1:40 pmpdt he probably conned her too. Playboy games. He’s really a playboy pretending to not be pretending to be...? Did I type that correctly? I feel like I cannot smile or laugh anymore. 1:42 pmpdt

1:42 pmpdt I thought I really enjoyed talking to Derek online & we once tried thanking on the phone but I became self conscious & nervous. & then he called me a ditz very loudly. He said something like you’re a ditz! His personality at that moment seemed completely different than what I perceived it to be online. I thought we were becoming best friends. 1:45 pmpdt at first I felt like I couldn’t let him go, & then I found it in me to let him go for my mom. 1:45 pmpdt around 2011/2012-end of 2014 sometime in that period I felt like I was going to die from the feeling of loneliness. & then suddenly the feeling was replaced with contentment/happiness/fun when I was alone. The change in feelings happened within minutes. 1:48 pmpdt

1:49 pmpdt vag acid pain. He’s never going to stop. He lied to me. After all that time of working in myself to become more honest & to try to build up courage to face my past bad choices that I remembered at the time. I usually only remembered one bad choice & forgot the other stuff. I don’t know why. I feared running into this person, but I thought about kneeling on the ground begging for forgiveness & understanding if I maintained courage if I ran into her. 1:52 pmpdt in 2014 a doctor I saw seemed to intentionally stab my ear & pretend she didn’t do it intentionally. I got on one knee & begged her to do a brain scan Bcz of my past head trauma but she replied “I don’t work that way” & ran out of the room. She seemed a little ... crazy? 1:54 pmpdt I remembered when we first called the hospital after I got mediCal they seemed to already have me signed up there. I don’t know if that’s normal but the person we talked to in the phone didn’t think it was normal I think. We didn’t investigate. 1:55 pmpdt

1:56 pmpdt I think the incubus did me dirty. And immaturely. I h*te what he did to me. 1:57 pmpdt

1:58 pmpdt back then After I made a bad decision or did a bad thing I usually tried not to do it again. 1:59 pmpdt I maybe tried harder. 1:59 pmpdt in 2010 I yearned to be free among people to not feel guilt about the past, I think it was almost immediately after I stopped seeing Scott. Probably b4 the car thing. 2:01 pmpdt incubus I guess had plans to further screw me over then. 2:01 pmpdt

it was then I prayed to god for courage I think to face my past. 2:03 pmpdt in 2017? I think I saw Oprah say don’t pray to god for courage or love. I guess god did weird things to a lot of people. 2:04 pmpdt

2:05 vag acid pain. God = incubus = heinous.

2:07 pmpdt incubus took my memory away of what I as going to write now it’s back . Incubus is putting acid on my vag & roof of my mouth Bcz he does not like that I didn’t commit suicide in 2015. He thinks I lied to him. I guess he’s right. I was very scared to commit suicide but he gave me signs he wanTed me to probably since 2010. I still wanted to live but as a hermit. 2:11 pmpdt I tried to scan all my statements b4 getting rid of the paper copies & I lost all the files when I ran away, w/ my drivers license. 2:12 pmpdt & expired passport. 2:13 pmpdt & jewelry. It was stupid I packed all that stuff & took it with me. 2:13 pmpdt

2:14 pmpdt I guess now that he destroyed my organs inside my groin?/pelvis? He doesn’t need me around to pretend anymore that he’s my husband. Sometime btwn 2011-2014 (vag acid pain 2:16 pmpdt it really eats my flesh he demonstrated on my tongue & ear. 2:18 pmpdt) I was still dumb & wondered when I was going to meet my soulmate or the person god chose for me. In my head a menacing head voice spoke to me. Foreshadowing my destruction. When I talked to “Brendan” on the phone it seemed like he was reading my mind & the thought crossed my mind if he can read my mind maybe it means he’s my soulmate. I didn’t yet put it all together how it worked. How the world & relationships were set up to work. I watched too many Disney movies. I made all the wrong choices/decisions. & when it could have been right it wasn’t the right timing. 2:24 pmpdt

2:26 pmpdt “Brendan” said he had the cube? Mac/apple computer in 2001.

2:39 pmpdt b4 my aunt got married in 2001? I had a weird feeeling & imagination for a few minutes of what was funny that I never should have done. I wonder if people at school was starting to think I was crazy, or maybe it was soon after this. I think I watched too many karate kid movies & I thought that I could flip my aunt perfectly & that it would be funny. I did it & somehow I made her turn over 360 degrees & put her on her back. Maybe it was a little rough? I hope it wasn’t... but it might have been a little. She laughed! & soon after that she had a successful pregnancy. I would never do it again. The last 5 years I felt betrayed a lot by a lot of people. I feel like I don’t have anyone to defend me. I a lot of people I only met for a few minutes or hours already started hurting me physically. 2:47 pmpdt bcz I have sensitivities I feel like the whole world turned against me by putting citric acid in their products including cetaphil which is supposed to be for sensitive skin. I feel like literally they’re biting the hands that fed them. Back in 2017? 2019... I saw a counselor who said a lot of older people cannot eat citrus. So basically the whole economy turned against their aging population. 2:51 pmpdt heinous. I also couldn’t drink water, it gave me problems. When I found a water I could drink my mom betrayed me & told someone on the phone. She sounded like she did it intentionally to betray me from her tone. After that I had difficulty drinking the water & it all started tasting bitter. Fiji water around September? 2021. Also around 2016/2017 someone put a huge dent in my mom’s car door drivers side. Around the same time my sister in new York her car got the same fate: a big dent in the car door. The one in my mom’s car door is about a foot in diameter? 2:57 pmpdt vag acid pain 2:58 pmpdt the hospital punished me for retailiatung on my mom for this very big betrayal. I had trouble breathing when I drank water & started having diarrhea when I drank milk. My pee was orange. I thought she was trying to kill me with her betrayal. 3 pm the hospital bruised fruit & drenched my food with water. They seemed to like this unusual punishment even though it’s against the constitution. 3:02 pmpdt

4:54 pmpdt every one says bye to me like they’re smug & im going to die. It feels like that is what’s really going to happen. It’s awful to always be in some sort of pain, agony, loneliness, anxiety, & see:hear hints of death coming. If I cannot have any say or control in it I would rather get squashed by a gigantic asteroid in my sleep. 4:58 pmpdt god likes to put me through this Bcz he wants my bones. 4:59 pmpdt if anything is possible god should be able to cut through the asteroid with a a lazer to get to my bones. 5:01 pmpdt I need to watch more YouTube videos. Something is shocking me that I think I was blocked from remembering or understanding in 2017. Makes me think that everyone is really for themselves & or believe if something bad happened to you then you’re a bad person 😖😭🥵😤. I guess people believe that about dugard & Shannon Ruth & Sierra LaMar ? If god says so then I guess it’s true. I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ my own self. Around June that summer he wanted me to think 💭 I was special & gentle & loving 🥰 even though before that he was calling me trash 🗑 & treating me like trash 🗑 my whole life & more so now. 5:07 pmpdt I m starting to believe I’m trash 🗑. Last night ? Or this morning I recalled that he said women are amazing. Maybe 🤔 he didn’t really mean women’s abilities to get pregnant 🤰, but how they make his p*nis feel. Like mvrykv_ on Instagram. The truth probably exposed. But he’s probably secretly misleading a lot of people still from what he wants me to believe without showing me. 5:11 pmpdt no one will help me but every medical 🏥 person says bye 👋 like they know I’m dying. Dying 😵5:12 pmpdt

5:21 pmpdt koit autocorrect: loot. ...

I can’t depend on the incubus to answer my prayers if he has other plans, even though it (throat acid pain 5:23 pmpdt) seemed he was paying attention to me in that particular moment & he simply chose not to help me out- Bcz knights lay - ippon? 5:24 pmpdt

5:26 pmpdt I guess he was gaslighting ⛽️ me my whole life, possessed random person to tell me I’m Jesus Christ when I was 6/7 years old literally. But I often forget about it until 2017-ish. 5:29 pmpdt I had difficulty with reading 📖 & comprehension so i didn’t start reading (burned right side 5:29 pmpdt) Bible seriously until ≈2017/2018 & 2021/2022. I still don’t know much. 5:31 pmpdt Bcz it feels that he destroyed my uterus this morning the delusion is dying off. 5:32 pmpdt all hope is dead ☠️.

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nctsworld · 4 years ago

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two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone off to one side.

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.”

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly.

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

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desertdollranch · 4 years ago

Text

DIY Melody’s Recording Studio

Melody is thrilled to be in the recording studio with her brother Dwayne. He invited her to sing backup vocals on his album, and now she’s getting the chance to record a few solo songs too! She stands in the recording booth and waits for her cue. Then she takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and lets the music flow from her soul. ♬ ♩ ♬ ♩

This studio was a DIY project that my mom and I worked on together while I was visiting my parents. She recently got her Melody doll, and is now eager to spoil her with things like this.

We based the recording studio on the one that American Girl has in Melody’s collection.

We didn’t have a tutorial or building plans to work with, so we had a lot of guesswork and improvising to do here. We watched a lot of video reviews and looked at up-close pictures of each detail. This one is sized a little larger than AG’s product, which looks a bit out of proportion for Melody.

I helped out with the small details and the graphic design, while she built the walls, floors, and structures. (She was working on this while I was building Maryellen’s diner. Pictures of that to come tomorrow.)

The speakers on the wall are cardboard covered in soft fabric, and there’s a little board holding up a sign that says “10:00 session: Melody”. The window lets her get visual cues from the sound engineer in the other room.

I did a web search to find images of sheet music for “Lift Every Voice and Sing” and “This Little Light of Mine” and printed them out small. Her music stand is an AG product; it came with a violin set. Her headphones are My Life As brand.

There’s a microphone mounted to the ceiling; it’s made from fabric and some thin flexible aluminum. On the wall is the record made by her brother’s group, The Three Ravens. I downloaded and printed a picture of the album that comes with Melody’s accessories, and the record is just black and red paper.

The engineer’s table is on the other side. This was built from foam board and spray painted brown. The look of soundproofing on the walls was made by lightly flicking black paint onto the white boards.

My mom bought a doll-sized swivel chair for this, but it hadn’t arrived by the time I had to leave to go home. In the first picture, Marco is sitting on a homemade chair.

There’s a recording schedule hanging above the table, made from a printed image of a calendar that I customized to read “January 1964″ at the top. The “Quiet Please” sign is illuminated from behind by some LED tealights, but it’s hard to see it in full sunlight.

The telephone was made by painting a mint tin for the base. The buttons are rectangles of black craft foam. The receiver was made from three parts: the middle part is the handle from a plastic milk jug; the mouthpiece and earpiece were made from plastic caps from small containers. The cord was made from a bracelet.

Here’s a closeup of the reels and the dials. The reels are made from silver scrapbook paper, the buttons on the bottom are beads, the buttons in the middle are craft foam, and the dials are printables.

The control table is a mix of buttons, beads, printed images, and craft foam. The microphone is wire covered in silver tape with some felt at the end.

Bonus appearance from my girls, the Dusty Mountain Dollies, an up-and-coming bluegrass band!

They had a recording session in the studio after Melody finished. Rumor has it they’re putting together their second album!

♩ ♬ ♩ ♬

#doll crafts #melody ellison #diy #recording studio #doll accessories #the dusty mountain dollies

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neoheros · 5 years ago

Text

how would haikyuu boys handle spending the night together? feat. kuroo tetsuro, akaashi keiji, tsukishima kei

kuroo tetsuro

the first time you and kuroo spent the night together was a wednesday evening when you didn’t even plan on staying over

his parents left town for the day and it was a better time than any other to have you spend the afternoon

you were still both in your uniforms and with the school day you just had, it was safe to say that you deserved to lay on top of him on the couch while your hands are in his hair

you were tired from school and he was tired from practice

you barely even spoke to each other that afternoon, all you remember was him offering to take a nap with you in his bed and you being too sleepy to decline

you changed into one of his sweatshirts and a pair of shorts and when he saw you he just 🥺

kuroo: are we really that tired tho 👉👈

you, blinking: yes

the nap was so deep and peaceful that the only reason you woke up from it was because of the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway

that’s when you realize that you’ve actually spent the night and the bright light that’s been annoying your eyes for the past 2 minutes was the sun rising

you shift from your place but kuroo’s right grip on your waist only worsened as he pulled you closer to his chest

“stop moving so much,” he mumbles groggily, refusing to open his eyes as he snuggles against your shoulder blade

you panic, “kuroo we’re gonna be late,”

he takes a while to respond but you feel him nod softly against your skin, “we can skip first period,”

then you hear the front door open, your heart racing because kuroo clearly doesn’t have any plans on getting up soon

you try your best to push him away from you but the more you do the more his tightening his grip, too tired to open his eyes

you, panicking: if you don’t wake up now i’m breaking up with you

kuroo, mumbling: hmm we’ll get back together it’s okay

he’s pressing quick kisses against your shoulder and you almost swoon over the infatuated look he had on

“we should do this more often,” kuroo says, his voice quiet and you’re debating with yourself if he’s choosing not to hear his parents downstairs

you shift, “i know, i like this too, but your parents are home and i don’t want their first impression of me to be like this,”

he finally opens his eyes and lets go of the grip he had on you, you jump out of bed, hearing the footsteps from the stairs

“tetsu, are you awake yet?” his mom’s voice blared as she knocked on his door

you wanted to laugh as the panic set on your boyfriend’s face but you found yourself frozen still when you realize that this meant trouble if she found you in there

“kuroo, i swear to god, i will not let this be the first time your mom meets me,” you tell him in a hushed tone, quickly picking up your clothes

“yup!” he shouts back, and the first thing he could do when the doorknob twisted was shove you in his open closet

you yelp at the suddenness but you held the door closed as your pressed against his clothes in extreme tightness

“you’ll be late,” his mom says, entering his room

kuroo nods, “i’m actually skipping first period, my head hurts,”

there’s sweat on his forehead and his mom crosses her arms with a look

“fine,” she says, sighing, “your dad and i are going grocery shopping this morning so make sure to lock up before you go back to bed.”

kuroo lets out a breath of relief, walking his mom out the door and he shuffles to lock it before opening the closet to a rather agitated you

kuroo: i mean hey at least now we can have the morning in peace 😌

you, throwing a pillow at him: i hate you

kuroo, pulling you back in bed: hmm we’ll drive by starbucks before heading to school

you: i hate you less

tsukishima kei

first of all, sleeping with him is one thing and waking up next to him is another

he’s so stiff and on guard the whole time that you’d think he’s physically repulsed by the idea of you being beside him all night

you: i can take the floor, it’s really not a big deal

tsukki: are you kidding i’m not letting you sleep on the floor

you: wait aw 🥺

tsukki: at least take the couch

you can tell he’s anxious with the whole thing and you curse yourself for thinking it was a good enough time for the both of you to have a sleepover

but he’s just been away a lot from all the volleyball tournaments and it’s been so long since the two of you hung out that when he asked if you wanted to stay over you couldn’t say no

so now you’re left awkwardly sitting on his bed at 11 pm after the two of you finished a movie with nothing else to do

he eyes you down, you’re wearing one of his shirts which were obviously too big and a pair of sweats that you brought along

he glances at his watch, a faint pink on his face as he avoids your gaze

you: wait are you shy like are you actually

tsukki: hey remember when you offered to sleep on the floor

the two of you decide to just let tiredness take over you when you feel like it so you spend the next two hours in each other’s arms as you both scroll through tiktok

his nerves have calm down but you still feel the faint racing of his heart when you laugh from a video you see

you, internally: 🥺👉👈

but then you realize that hours have passed and neither of you are still tired enough to seriously lay down next to each other and try to sleep

tsukishima: do you want to go out for a drive?

you: it’s 3 am

tsukishima: ?

you: i like the way you think

AND ITS JUST SO !! FRICKEN !! ADORABLE !!!

he hands you an extra hoodie of his because it’s cold outside and he absolutely refuses to drive unless you put your seatbelt on

so it’s 3 am and the two of you are at a starbucks drivethru ordering too much caffeine for people who’re trying to fall asleep

you both end up chilling in their parking lot all morning just scrolling through twitter or tiktok and sometimes you’d feel him glance up at you from his phone but you decide not to mention it

you: why don’t we spend time like this more often

tsukishima: i honestly think you’ll find me boring if we hang out for more than an hour :/

you, soft: it actually takes less than an hour 🥺

before the two of you realize it you’ve fallen asleep in his car at a starbucks with the windows down and the 1975 blaring in the radio

you wake up first from the sunlight and you won’t deny the way your heart skipped a beat when you noticed how tsukki took off his hoodie to put on your thighs

you take off his glasses from his face, giving him a quick peck on the forehead before making sure he was comfortable and warm in his seat

he must’ve been tired and you really hope that you didn’t wake him up when you left the car to order more coffee for the both of you

akaashi keiji

THIS BOY IS AN ANGEL

he’s asleep by 10 pm and he’ll wake up at 8 just like he’s used to because he’s the most perfect boy in the world with the most perfect sleep schedule

you know of this fact and it bugs you cause sometimes you just really wanna facetime him at 3 am or reference him tiktoks that you found funny that day

so when he offered you a chance to stay over you were kinda on the rocks about it

you: yknow i sleep at 4 am right

akaashi: ... by choice?

you: at this point my body just shuts down when it wants to

akaashi, alarmed: oh

regardless of this fact, you could never turn down akaashi, it was like hard wired in your brain to never ever decline him and can you really blame yourself he’s 🥺

he insisted to stay up with you instead of you trying to fall asleep next to him at 9 pm but you just couldn’t put him through that

you put down your phone and even if it did feel odd to close your eyes without the sun rising, the sudden embrace by your boyfriend immediately made you forget about everything else

sleeping next to akaashi is utter heaven

he’s got his hand over your waist and his scent just envelops you in a non overpowering way

his fingers trail under your shirt and you shiver at how gentle they are

akaashi, under his breath: thank you for doing this

you, ready to risk it all: due to personal reasons i will be passing away ❤️

he places a quick kiss on your forehead before letting go of you and turning to his side

you felt like asking him back to you but you knew how tired he must’ve been so you don’t budge

you’re left staring at his room’s ceiling and you don’t know how long you did that but the next time you checked your phone it was already 1 am in the morning

you, internally: it’s like a talent omfg

aside from the fact that you’re close to tears as you think about how you stared at a ceiling for 3 hours straight because you didn’t want to go to sleep that much you stop fighting the inevitable

you prop yourself up on his headboard, careful not to wake him up beside you and start to go through what you usually do most nights

you’re so caught up on the tiktoks that you barely notice akaashi stirring from beside you before pulling the comforter over his head

he’s awake at this point and the silly grin on his face can’t be fought as he looks at you so indebted in what you watched

he leans against your shoulder, tired eyes and all whilst stifling back a yawn

you, sleepy: sorry for waking you

akaashi, just as sleepy: that’s ok, i like this better

the two of you spend the rest of the morning against each other on his headboard as you scroll through the contents of your phone

once akaashi realizes that you’ve fallen asleep, he gently pushes you back down on the pillows and your hands immediately make their way to embrace him

he will 100% take pictures before getting himself comfortable next to you, a soft smile on his face as he snuggles against your neck

akaashi, turning off his alarms: we can sleep in tomorrow

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pogueszn · 3 years ago

Text

a sprout master post

with the amount of asks i got and the things i’ve got going on in my personal life i don’t think i can answer them all before the season drops (which was i wanted to do) and these asks have been sitting in my inbox for too long already and i don’t just want to leave you all hanging so i thought i would compile a majority of the sprout asks here so you guys can read them, or add on to them or something! i’m gonna answer a few sprout asks and the random ones that are there later today some time, or tomorrow if i can’t find the time today!

you guys going to a cameron party and there’s a photo booth and jj and teeny sprout are in line, and he’s like “okay when she says 3 you have to smile okay?” and sprout smiles so huge and it’s gummy to the point you see all of her dimples

going to a big city and your condo is has floor to ceiling windows and sprout crawls up to it and presses her slobbery face against it and jj is liek “enjoying the view princess?”

sprout bonding with nana heyward 🥺

baby sprouty sleeping in her bassinet and pope is over and she’s fussing and jj is like “see even your nerd talk bothers the baby”

Sprout laying on the ground and JJ is laying next to her and he’s like “I love youuuuu” and she does that cute newborn sleepy smile

going to the bookstore and everyone knows sprout and when you guys check out the cashiers like “your uncle popes phone number sprout?” and she’s like “yes peez”

ward holding sprouty while he’s talking business and she takes her binkie and shoves it in his mouth like “stop talking” and you and jj are like embarrassed

jj waking up to sprout poking him and he’s like “what baby?” and she whispers “i see my unca pope now” and jj looks at the time and it’s like 4 am

john b and sarah taking sprout and they pull her out of the car and she’s pissed at john b, and she had her binkie in her mouth and she bolts to see the heywards and john b is like “hey diaper butt watch the attitude”

jj telling the heywards about sprouts teething and he picks sprout up and is like “show them your teeth” and she’s like 😬 but with two teeth poking out and pink gums

baby sprouty in her sling on jj’s chest and she’s looking around and as soon as she spots pope she gummy grins so huge

baby brother and sprout laying in your room and you walk out to change snd find them passed out together

baby brother in his swing and sprouts looking at him, and jj is like “aw perfect instagram moment” and he’s taking a video of them and he’s like “sprout do you like your baby brother?” and she’s like “no coconut head cries too much”

Maybank Jr def sells edibles at school and he has to give Sprout first dibs or she’ll snitch him out

Baby Sprouty going out to The Wreck for the first time and Kies parents are like “Want a few minutes without the baby?” and they just want baby snuggles and she’s in her little car seat just sleeping

JJ having to take a plane for work conference and Sprout is shattered and she’s like “talk to dada peez” and you have to break her heart and say he can’t talk right now

sprout saying something like “gosh the kids on the cut have it easier” and it’s definitely easier if the times jj sits her down and has a starbucks talking to cause it definitely isn’t easy as it seems

jj is always kissing sproutys chubby cheeks from the moment she came out of the womb and was placed on your chest

the first morning with sprouty 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺☹️☹️☹️

HEARING SPROUTS HEARTBEAT FOR THE FIRST TIME. and the nurse is like “yup strong and healthy”

JJ holding sprout in his lap and she’s less than a month old, and he’s burping her while holding her cheeks and everyone’s in awe of her, Kie’s even videoing Sprout who’s milk drunk. And she spits up all over JJs leg

Sprouty having her little friend over and you can hear them whispering and you make out “hims cry all night. hims head big too” and her friends like “my sissy’s sleeps and can’t play wif her”

Mrs Heyward hogging up Sprout when she pops in the visit and Sprout is just vibing with her Nana while you and JJ are catching up on sleep

jj definitely mirrors the kids face when they’re crying and sprouts baby head thinks he’s actually crying so she fusses even more

baby sprout trying to crawl but she jusy looks like she’s wiggling in place and jj is like “aw my little worm”

Sprout and JJ having a boat day and Sprout climbs in JJs lap and she’s like “love yous more dan my fishies at papas” and JJs heart is a PUDDLE BECAUSE EVERYONE KNOWS SPROUTY LOVES HER FISHES AT PAPAS POND

JJ taking you out on one last vacation before your bubs born 🥺

when you’re pregnant and close to sproutys due date, you just clean from the time jj leaves for work to when he gets back and he’s like 🚨 no more cleaning ma’am you’ve reorganized my socks fives times already

Sprout and John B hanging out while Sarah’s out and he’s like “Want a cheeto?” and she stares at him and he’s like “Right sorry I forgot you don’t have teeth or how you only drink your moms boob milk”

When Sprout comes home from Urgent Care, you have her sleep in your bed because she still has a low fever and at first she’s clinging to you, and throughout the night she makes her way to JJ and they’re doing skin to skin cause she’s in her diaper and he’s shirtless

jj taking sprout to a daddy’s and i event at daycare and he noticed that a lot of the dads are like “sucks that my wife is having me babysit the kids on saturday so i’ll miss the game” and they’re more flabbergasted when they hear jj doesn’t use a 24/7 nanny like them

I feel like JJ already gives off intimidating and stern personality and when he has kids he feels like he has to lower it a few notches but sometimes he looses his patience and it definitely gets everyone’s attention

sprouty in her sling and you’re like “JJ can you take her? My boobs probably look weird with her pressed up against them” and he’s like “actually they look fantastic”

everyone coming to watch sprouty girls first swim lesson and she waddles out and she just started walking while holding someone’s hand and everyone’s like “oh such a big girl sprout.” and she’s like “fishie” and john b is like “no you’re the fish this time”

when ur telling the heywards that ur pregnant, heywards like “10 years together and it took you that long to knock her up?”

Sprout being a little over a year old and John B is waving a sparkler in front of her and she grabs at it, and everyone scolds John B

JJ DRESSING SPROUTY GIRL UP IN FOURTH OF JULY FITS THROUGHOUT THE DAY AND EVEN HER BINKIE MATCHES HER FITS

Waking JJ at ass crack of dawn and you’re like “Honey can you ask Heyward to make his french toast cause baby girls wanting them”

sprouty seeing jj on facetime and she’s like “oh hi dada” and he’s like “are you being good for your mom” and she’s like “no dada”

sprout going to heywards in a bad mood, and heyward is like “hugs for papa?” ans she’s like “no fank you papa. is in a bad mood right now”

Teen Sprout calling you guys at an ungodly hour and she’s like “I’m drunk and my ride ditched me. Please pick me up”

your baby shower for baby boy happening and sproutys like “awww for me???” and you’re like “no baby for your brother” and she’s so upset

Baby Boy and Sprout going to the Heywards for the night and JJ is like “Maybank #3?”

baby sprout sleeping in sarah’s arms and it’s after she’s first born and john b is like “nine months of growing a kid for her to sleep?” and he pokes her cheek “loser”

JJ getting giant headphones for Baby so she can watch the fireworks with you guys and he’s like “And look Dada even got Papa a pair cause we don’t his old man ears to get any worse”

:ooo did you ever hc how you tell jj you’re pregnant with sprout??

sprouty in the buggy and she’s babbling and jj is like “yeah baby?” and she does the babbling scream and he’s like “ma’am you’re in the store”

it being the first time you guys take sprout out, and you fed her and jjs burping her but she keeps dozing off cause it’s past her bedtime and he’s like “she’s definitely going to give us hell tonight for making her stay up”

baby sprouty looking at the fairy lights in the cameron backyard and john b is like “jesus j, she makes it seem like you never take her out of that castle she calls home” and sarah’s like “john b she’s three months old let the girl live”

jj buying little matching sunglasses for sprout and you look at the receipt and you’re like “$90 for glasses that she won’t even need?”

Sprout sitting up on your bed and JJ walks in and he’s like “Hi Mamas!” and she babbles back

Realizing the reason Sprouty sneezes on JJ or sometimes John B and Rafe is because their colognes are too strong for her baby nose

baby sprout in her bath tub in your bathroom and jj is like “how come babies get all the cool shit”

sprouts first fourth of july.

JJ getting fake chicken nuggets as his way of going vegan or something and he gives it to Sprout and she just devors them all.

baby sprouts first little stroller around the neighborhood 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Sprout mirroring everyone’s facial expressions

wait so i read concepts about how miss lana took jj in a lot, and how he’s so protective over her. and i was like him having miss lana watch sprouty as her babysitter cause he knows how motherly she’s is

JJ getting Sprout from the babysitter and she’s so tiny like one of the first times he picks her up, and he’s like “oh hi bubby did you have a nice time”

Sprout being into pictures for some reason, but it’s when she’s starting to recognize people. So every time she leaves her nursery you or jj stop by your wedding pictures in the hallway and ask “Where is…” for the next five minutes

Sprout waking up JJ like “My papas birfday dada?”

sprouts project in class is about love and you see her put “unca pope loves me the most” in her teachers writing cause they just wrote down what she says

Sarah and John B having a baby son and Sproutys meeting him, and she’s like “Awww hims wook wike my Unca Pope”

As soon as Baby Boy is out of your room and sleeping in his nursery, you can bet all your money sprout is back in between you and jj

sprout def snitches john b out when he gets on her nerves

sprout in her floaty and she’s having a blast and john b swims by her and she grips his hair and it’s the strong baby grip no one can seem to undo and she’s laughing at everyone telling her to stop

JJ making breakfast and he’s like “decaf for the mama, organic mango orange juice for the little mama, and boobs on the rocks for the little man in the sling”

maybank jr seeing you standing by the entry way of the house when jj picks him up from jail, and he’s so scared. and you’re like “had sprout stay with a friend tonight, you young man in your room until your father and i discuss what we’re gonna say to you”

Sprouts playroom is HUGE especially for a two foot baby. And somehow she manages to only play with the box her dad left while he spent all Saturday putting together her play kitchen

The one time JJ wakes up when Sprouts screaming she wants you

sprout potty training and she’s so excited to be a “big girl”

okay. i feel like jj would def have the first baby in the group or just never have kids

You guys taking a family trip to Nashville for the week and Sprout is THRIVING, baby is just vibing to the live music performances while y’all are eating at restaurants

heyward having sprout over and she facetimes you and you hear her grumble “pick me up unca b is here. eatin my mac in cheese”

JJ making barbecued ribs and Sprouts just devouring them and she’s just a mess and when JJ takes her out of her high chair he’s like “Aw my little piggy loved Dada’s cooking?” and Kie is like “You’re calling her a pig when you fed her pig?”

you guys leaving sprouty with john b and when you come to pick her up she’s strapped on his chest and he’s like “we’re bonding”

SPROUT MODELING WOULD BE AMAZINGGGG, like it’s sarah who talks you into it, and she’s only a few months old and it’s for a boutique in town and she’s so smiley and cooing the whole time

sprout not falling asleep when you guys are out of the house, and jj is like “you can sleep bubba” as he’s rubbing her back and she’s so drowsy she keeps dropping her pacifier

Picking Sprout up from daycare and you guys are like “How was your first day baby?” and she’s like “See my Unca Pope now?”

Baby Brother and you coming to Sprouts class for a class party and she’s like “Dis is my brudder hims kinda mean”

jj going the mainland for work and he comes back with hella shopping bags and it’s custom made designer for sprout because everything’s cuter in baby form

usually baby brother is the one who teases sprout and he’s in timeout but one time he does something and she smacks him back, and you have to separate them in timeout and as jj is talking to sprout you hear “i don’t like him right now dada. hims like unca jombee.”

John B seeing Sprout before his wedding, and he’s like “Listen stinky, today is about me and Aunt Sarah, so don’t do something that everyone awes over, got it?” and Sprout totally steals the show when she’s walking down the isle

jj getting him and sprout matching outfits and she’s running around the property in a hat that’s a little too big for her and she runs straight into ward

baby boy doing something that resulted in a timeout and he’s screeching so loud, and he’s calling for you to get him out and jj gets like a flashback of his childhood

sproutys first storm and she’s just looking out your bedroom window and jj sneezes or something and she jumps and he’s like “wtf”

Baby sleeping in the bassinet when she’s just born and JJ is like “She totally sleeps like me” and you’re like “You snore louder than the storm”

catching sprout crawling out of her crib and jjs like “what are you doing missy?” and she’s like “unca pope”

john b and jj going to sproutys field trip to the police station cause your morning sickness with baby boy is terrible and a mom walks up and is like “you guys make such a lovely couple!”

jj walking in on you talking to your bump, and you’re like “i enjoy cooking a lot, my mom taught me all of my best recipes” and he’s like 🥺

The daycare having an open house for Sprouts class, and you see one of her papers the question is “a few of my favorite things” and her answers are “uncle pope, nana and papa, my daddy and mommy, and strawberries. and seeing the fishies at my papas house”

you and jj doing something special for sprout before baby brothers born

jj looking after baby sprout and he needs to pee but everytime he puts her down she squawks and screams really loud so he’s just shuffling around the house holding her and rocking her hoping you’ll be home soon

Sprout definitely humbles the whole family, and keeps everyone in their place

#sprout #asks #i really wish that i could answer all of these #but i genuinely can't #:( :(#i appreciate all of you who take the time to send me asks SOO MUCH #but there's just too much going on right now for me to answer these in the way they deserve to be answered.#i hope you can understand

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demoneyesanddamagedsouls · 4 years ago

Text

Sparring Partners

Chapter Two: Preparation

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the love on the first Chapter of this fic, I hope you enjoy this one just as much. I’m aiming to post a new chapter each week, not sure yet how many chapters this’ll have yet. Feedback and comments as always are so welcome, I’d love to hear your thoughts, and if you’d like to be tagged for the upcoming chapters just let me know! xxx

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F! Reader

I have also just created a playlist for ya’ll to listen to while reading. I hope it gets you even more invested! ✨COCKY COWBOY PLAYLIST✨

Summary: You and Agent Whiskey are long time rivals. As Statesman agents you both have been put up for the same promotion and this mission is your final chance to prove yourself. Have you got what it takes?

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Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Slight Language, mentions of food and canon-typical violence

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CHAPTER TWO: Preparation

You both leave the conference room minds reeling from all the information that was just given to you.

As one of the younger agents at Statesman, being chosen as a potential candidate for Champ’s position was a real honour. It showed that Champ really thought highly of you and your skills. After 8 years of working as an agent, going on your fair share of dangerous and difficult missions, taking a bullet more than once, and now training the new recruits with Tequila, you knew you had worked your ass off to get where you were. However, even with all this experience it paled in comparison to some of the more senior agents, some with 10 or more years under their belt. Hell, the person you were up against had been on the job for about 15 years, making a name for himself as one of the most fearsome agents that Statesman had to offer. You knew for a fact that Whiskey had been hoping for this position eventually, it had been something he mentioned to other agents that you heard in passing. At the top of his game and at the height of his career you realised, this cowboy was going to be one hell of a challenge to go up against.

Whiskey mulled over this new mission and Champ’s offer over and over in his mind. He wasn’t particularly surprised that Champ had propositioned him as a potential candidate for this position, he was one of the most senior agents at Statesman. Probably the closest in age to Champ and with the extensive experience he had it seemed rather obvious, but Vodka? You were still so young, in your mid 20’s the world was yet to break your spirit. Mind you, you had that bossy tone down packed. He chuckled to himself. He was hesitant to admit but you had a certain leadership quality that you didn’t see in most of the agents here. Most were contented to follow orders and carry out missions as asked, but you always had your own way of doing things, always taking the initiative. He supposed you had a fresh and young perspective that Champ must see as endearing. He however, found your constant need to take charge rather infuriating. You always seemed to think you knew best and even if you were correct, more often than not he was resigned to admit, it was still frustrating as you always seemed determined to show him up. He knew you were going to be a challenge, so determined to prove yourself, and a damned good agent to boot. Fuck this is going to be harder than he thought.

Both of you walking in the same direction out of the room, neither of you realising the other is turning to walk in the opposite direction. Both too caught up in your own thoughts you collide into each other your head smacking into Whiskeys chest. Quickly recoiling from the unintentional contact your rub your forehead with the palm of your hand. “Dammit Whiskey, watch where you’re going for Christ’s sake.”

“Well jeez Vodka how am I supposed to avoid you and that ego inflated head of yours?” He scoffed, eyeing you up and down.

You scowled at him, “You think I have a big ego? Have you looked in the mirror lately Whiskey? You and that cocky ass grin of yours have got a lot of nerve talking about my ego.” Rolling your eyes, you swiftly turn and storm away from the narcissistic cowboy.

“If you liked my smile so much you should have just said so… sunshine.” He calls back to you as you walk away. You could practically hear the smirk in that smooth as silk southern accent.

What an absolute dick. He knew exactly what he was doing when he spoke to you like that. It infuriated you. The way his southern drawl echoed in your ears, his words dripping like honey, they way he called you those stupid little pet names. Everything about Whiskey drove you up the wall, he always knew just how to get under your skin. “Fuckkkk…” You growled to yourself as you stormed into your office your heeled boots clicking angrily through the hall. Why does he always have to be so intensely irritating? You needed to get that stupid fucking smirk out of your head and get prepared for your new op. Slamming the door shut and sitting down, you start reclining in your office chair taking a deep breath and relaxing. Whiskey’s scent had lingered on your clothes creating a cloud around you after you had slammed into his chest. Inhaling the smell of cinnamon and sandalwood, a soft oaky smell, your breathing began to slow and calm. You would never tell him but that was one thing you did unfortunately enjoy about Whiskey. He always smelt good. Why did he always have to smell so damn good? Shaking your head to clear your mind of any remaining thoughts of Whiskey you leaned towards your desk and opened your laptop. This was going to be a long night…

***

Pushing the door closed with your heeled foot, you stepped into your apartment and sighed. You were exhausted. Checking your watch, you realised it was now 10 minutes past midnight. Swiftly moving to the bedroom, you flopped onto your bed groaning as you flipped yourself over and pulled off your boots, quickly changing into your pyjamas. Finally laying back down in bed you stared up at the ceiling running over the research you’d done over the course of the afternoon and evening, and the plan you had organised for tomorrow. You had spent the afternoon working, collecting copious amounts of information on CleanPlanet and the history of their company. It seemed that they were attempting to pass as an almost ‘mom and pop’ style family-owned business “Dedicated to the bettering of the planet and all the people who inhabited it.” What a load of rubbish. You had uncovered multiple articles from smaller news publications questioning the companies credibility, some families of recently passed away individuals even coming forward and accusing the company of foul play in the deaths of their relatives. CleanPlanet was owned and run by Howard Jacoby and his wife Constance, two very well-off socialites and academics who were every bit as snobby as they appeared in pictures. At least you wouldn’t be dealing with them directly thank goodness you hated dealing with high society types, that would be Whiskey’s issue.

There was a particular video that had caught your eye whilst combing through their internet presence, a TedTalk style video starring the one and only Howard Jacoby. He was speaking about how the planet was struggling with things like overpopulation and pollution, a speech which sounded eerily similar to Professor Arnold’s work, the man who had assisted Richmond Valentine and encouraged his plot to wipe out most of the planet. You shuddered at the thought. Either way you and Whiskey would get to the bottom of this. If the company and its owners were planning on anything like what Valentine had tried to execute then you needed to figure it out quickly. Deciding you’d brief Whiskey in the morning about your hunch, you set your alarm and curled up in your soft cotton sheets. Looking out your bedroom window at the twinkling of the city lights, your head sinking slowly into your pillow. You drift off into a restless sleep, anxious of what tomorrow would bring.

***

You arrived at Statesman the next morning rubbing your eyes. Your sleep had been restless, anxiety of the coming days keeping you from a comfortable evening. Pushing the door to your office open you hear a chipper voice behind you. “Well mornin’ Vodka. You ready for the op today?” You turned to see Whiskey standing in your office door frame, leaning his broad shoulder against it with a large smile plastered across his face.

Rolling your eyes at his unnecessarily wide grin, “And what’s gotten you in such a fabulous mood this morning?” You say with an exasperated sigh as you drop into your office chair with a small thud. As soon as the words fall out of your mouth his smile somehow grows larger as he pulls out the arm that was behind his back forward as he saunters into the room. Holding a large paper bag, which as soon as you spot the smell hits your nostrils. Fresh pancakes. You look at him with sudden excitement and surprise, your mood instantly lifted and the last feeling of tiredness leaving your body as you inhale deeply.

“I thought I’d bring us some breakfast to get us in the right headspace for today. I also thought we should probably trade what we found out yesterday during our research to make sure we’re both on the same page…”

“Oh, so this is a bribery breakfast huh?” You questioned as you drag your eyes away from the mouth-watering food on the desk in front of you, finally taking a proper look at Whiskey for the first time this morning. The first thing you notice is that he is not currently donning his regular black Stetson, a rather big change from his usual cowboy appearance. Instead, he was showing off his thick, brushed back hair, his wireframe Statesman issued glasses resting on his strong nose, obscuring his dark brown eyes. He was wearing a gorgeous grey checkered suit with a white dress shirt underneath, a casual yet striking look on his glowing tan complexion. It was a very nice change for the cowboy. He cleans up well, you thought. Your gaze flicks up and you notice Whiskey’s cocky grin once again. He must have thought you were eyeing him up, not that you weren’t but you weren’t about to let him know that. You roll your eyes at him trying to keep his knowing smile at bay. “So, what are you after then Whiskey?”

“Well sunshine, since you always seem to know everything, I thought I’d get your run down on things this morning before we both head out to our separate ops today.”

“Ahhhh there it is, the usual candour I’m used to from you cowboy. I was worried when you showed up this morning with a kind gesture that I wouldn’t be enjoying any of that snarky wit I have become so accustomed to.” You look down at your computer and notepad, focusing on the research notes you had made last night in somewhat of a delirious, fever dream state. “Alright let me have a look…” you trailed off.

Whiskey sits down across from you at your desk pulling the steaming pancakes out of the paper parcel you had brought this morning. Setting up the two meals Whiskey observes you, wearing a pair of simple black high waisted work pants tapering at your waist, a simple white blouse tucked into them, the buttons undone just low enough to show off your neck and the top of your chest. He darts his eyes back up to your face, so you don’t catch him staring, nose scrunched up in concentration under your matching Statesman glasses as you palm through your somewhat excessive amount of research notes. He lets out a light breath of amusement seeing you like this, confused but copiously prepared, it was a nice change of pace from your usual so certain self.

Looking back up from your notes as you find what you were looking for you see the small meal containers opened on the desk, filled with pancakes with a small pot of maple syrup on the side. Turning your focus back to Whiskey you begin to go through what information you’d gathered that you thought was pertinent to the both of you. You ran through the notes you had made, both of you working your way through breakfast, Whiskey chiming in occasionally with a mhmm and a nod here and there. “One thing that kept bugging me last night was that Ted Talk type video of Howard Jacoby… talking about the human race being a plague on the planet that needed to be cured so the earth could thrive again…” you trial off as a look of concern crosses your face, “It was really eerie and reminded me a lot of that professor that assisted Richmond Valentine in his attempt to have the world turn on each other.”

“Well, it seems I missed that video, that sounds mighty concerning…” Whiskey trails off, leaning his elbow on the side of your desk slowly pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. “Wonder what their testing at those new hospital facilities of theirs then…” He turns to look at you, the same worry sparkling in his eyes.

“My hunch is that they must be testing something similar to what Valentine did, something that can affect extensive groups of people on a large scale. Something that would be easy to distribute and spread, but obviously more related to the medical profession because of the labs…”

“Maybe some sort of virus or infection?” He chimes in.

“Seems more than likely… I guess we’ll find out more today. Speaking of…” You glance down at your watch realising it was almost 8:30am. Still so early for your tired demeanour, but almost time for you to both be heading off. Ginger had organised a cover story for you last night and sent in for a ‘staff transfer’ so that you could get into the CleanPlanet facilities and gain access to the hospital quickly. You needed to get to the bottom of this puzzling situation fast, especially as it seemed to be becoming more concerning by the minute. “I think its time for us to head off.”

“Seems it is.” Whiskey nods and swiftly packs the remnants of breakfast back into the paper bag, throwing it into the bin beside your desk.

“So, you know what my, rather detailed I might add, plan is but you have yet to share how you plan on approaching this op.” A slight leer in your voice, aiming to provoke him. “Care to share… cowboy?”

“If you must know, Vodka,” he drawls, the civilised tone from earlier gone in a heartbeat as the two of you pick up your bags and make your way down the hallway to the elevator. “I will be posing as a one of multiple wealthy investors eager to take a tour of CleanPlanet’s new business acquisitions. A high society gentleman looking to expand my portfolio into areas I have true passion for you could say. As it so happens, it seems that Howard Jacoby is searching for some people who share his vision and have a healthy wallet.” His voice dripping in sarcasm, for this type of persona was so unlike himself. A charmer by nature his honeyed voice had made many a lady fall victim to a one-night stand, but a high society man he was not. Whiskey cleaned up well, but he was certainly a working-class gentleman with a love for simple living.

“Well, your certainly dressed the part.” You say as you eye up Whiskey admitting to yourself that he was pulling of the sleek look. You shake your head clearing your mind of the potential minute attraction forming, focusing once more on where you were going. Stepping into the elevator and tapping the basement level button, you continued. “You definitely look like a pretentious asshole.” You say, chuckling to yourself as the elevator started to move.

Suddenly Whiskey was directly in front of you looking you up and down. “Don’t pretend you haven’t been eyein’ me up little lady.” He says, voice velvety smooth. Pinned down by his gaze you suddenly feel cornered, claustrophobic in the small metal space. You feel your face begin to heat up with an incriminating red tint, uncertain whether it was from anger or something more primal, you quickly sidestep his imposing figure. The elevator dings and you swiftly exit the elevator, “You wish cowboy.” You respond, a quick exhale escaping your mouth as you calm your racing heartrate. Why was he trying to rile you up before such an important op? Why does he have to be such a cocky arse? Eyeing him up? He’s got to be kidding. He’s the absolute last person on the planet that you could ever be attracted to. He does nothing but irritate you. He may be attractive, you begrudgingly admit, but you certainly were NOT attracted to him.

You hear him chuckle behind you, “Did I touch a nerve there sunshine?” he drawls behind you as you both head towards the garage where Ginger would be waiting. Rolling your eyes in anger to yourself, you choose to ignore him. Responding would only make him continue.

Pushing the doors open to the garage you see Ginger talking to one of the mechanics. As she hears the doors swinging, she turns to you quirking her eyebrow, seeing you seething with annoyance. “Everything alright here agents?” She says, confusion evident in her tone.

“Fine Ginger,” your voice comes out strained attempting to mask your irritation, “So what have you got set up for us for the next few days?”

“For you Vodka I’ve organised this ID card so you will have access to the basic areas of the hospitals but there are higher clearance areas which I wasn’t able to duplicate. You’ll have to figure that out when it comes to it.” She hands you a small ID badge attached to a clip which you then hook onto the belt loop on your pants. “I’ve also got small earpieces for the two of you to keep in communication while inside the facilities. They’re undetectable but very effective so try not to scream while wearing them if you can.” She passes you both the tiny in ear tech piece.

“Thanks Ging.”

“Now for you Whiskey,” She pulls out a small wallet and a set of car keys, “Here’s a new wallet with your cover identity and some cash to show off of course.”

He chuckles to himself pulling out his new drivers’ licence, “Introducing Duke Silver!” He smiles and bows towards you and Ginger. You roll your eyes again, scoffing at his ridiculousness.

“And… If I can finish, Duke.” Ginger continues giving Whiskey an exaggerated frustrated look, “Here is your new automobile.” Handing him the keys she gestures to a car sitting behind her. A brilliant turquoise blue Shelby Cobra 427 with white racing stripes down the middle.

“Alright… Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Whiskey dashes over like an excited child to admire his new personas gorgeous ride.

As Whiskey admires his new toy you turn to Ginger, “What do I have the luxury of driving to ‘work’ then Ginger?”

Passing you the keys she gestures to the car behind Whiskey’s, a slightly beat-up silver Toyota Corolla. “Sorry hon, you unfortunately need to blend in as a semi-broke medical student.”

You sigh, clutching the keys in your hand. “Thanks Ging.” Walking over you pass Whiskey, still ogling his own ride, making your way to the new car you’d be enjoying for the next few days. A far cry from your own beautiful red Mustang you sighed once more. The two of you hop into your cars and adjust the inside to what you need, throwing your bags into the back seat. You look over at Whiskey and slump into your seat, incredibly jealous. “That looks like one fun car to drive…” you mutter to yourself, green with envy. “Lucky bastard.”

Whiskey revs his engine excitedly, “Thanks darlin!” He shouts to Ginger over the loud purr. Turning to you he winks, bringing your irritation back with full force. “Have fun at ‘work’ then sunshine. Talk to you later!” His voice ringing out across the concrete as he drives off, the garage doors opening as he takes off out of the facility.

“I guess I’m off too then, see you later Ginger!” You smile at her as you close your door, taking off after Whiskey ready to face whatever the day would bring.

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

Permanent Tags:

@hrk-fic-recs @misslexilouwho

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scandeniall · 4 years ago

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no face no case

pairing suna x reader

summary/warnings: yeah suna is a PRO at the no face no case type shit. 18+ talks about sex, the devils lettuce (for like 2 seconds and uses the word “maybe” this was also written before that weird hyperfixation with him being a stoner which i have thoughts of annoyance towards but w/e), hes annoying

note: this was supposed to be a short drabble but ended up being over 1k words. brevity is not my strong suit.

update: i did bf texts based off this

Suna is a pro at no face no case. Like this man will hide your relationship for months (if you’re ok bc he’s not a dick). Part of it is because he’d had shitty experiences in relationships before and the other part is just bc as a pro player he didn’t need ppl in his private life. It’d be somewhere between 8-10 months until your face is ever posted even on snap and even then the pic is mad blurry. But the caption would be something like “kinda hot or whatever” or “Alexa play nasty by DaBaby to where you literally have to force him to change the caption bc SIR”. He’d definitely go post that same pic with that caption on finsta and add like 🥵💦to it.

Anyways, he’s really good at the whole deal. Like during the time before you two were a couple and kinda just hanging and dating around casually he’d talk about other people he found hot with his bros and maybe go on the occasional failed date (it failed bc he didn’t even put in the effort to get to know the person. Just “uh uh” “yeah that’s cool or whatever” and he’s super dry with it)

Anyways once you’re actually a couple whenever someone would show him a picture of someone he thought was hot he’d just shrug like no comment. After practices they guys would be like “yo you wanna go get drinks or hop on the game,” and he’d just say he was busy. Anyways that same night on his priv story he’d post some black and white filtered video of him kissing up and down your neck. And it was obvious that this mystery person was straddling him too.

Washio swipes up like: 🤨

Komori: did you mean to post that

He just leaves it on read and goes back to enjoying his night. After it was obvious to everyone on his priv/finsta that he was indeed in a relationship his story almost always has a flick of his hand on your ass. No caption, just his hand gripping through your jeans/sweats/ his boxers you name it.

Suna might smoke on occasion. Only during the off season though bc he is not dumb now. (sometimes osamu comes through but you’re never around). Anyways he’s the type to have some led strip lights in his room lining the ceilings and whether you smoked or not he’d invite you over. The room is all hazy and it’s like damn bitch are you tryna hot box. Anyways during those nights he’s so high and is slightly less intentional with keeping your identity hidden. Thankfully the lights and smoked out room does a pretty good job for him. Bc he kinda just sets up his phone has you on his lap and just likes make out real nice and slow. (he accidentally posts a part of it while high. He thinks it’s on video but he recorded on Snapchat. Be thankful it snap only records so much before cutting off)

Other times y’all would just be lounging on the couch passing a joint back and forth and he’d be like “put your legs on my lap so I cant take a pic” after he gets it he pushes your legs off and puts his on you instead lol.

He likes just vibing in the house to music with him playing his game and you just doing you. He’s not paying any type of attention to you but whenever you get up to go get some food or to pee he’d post some shit like “my date really left me? Can’t trust anyone can you.” Will record certain parts in songs (it be the dumbest parts too) and be like “I dedicate this to the 1 who left me to eat”

He’s also SO annoying that his lock screen is a pic of you both. One you had taken with self timer. You’re sitting in his lap smiling and he’s kinda just looking at you like “wow I rly like you”. But anyways back to him being annoying— he has emojis covering both of your faces. The clown emoji to be exact. To go along with that sometimes he’d post more couple-y picks on his priv but again there’s an emoji. Once he even used the Snapchat paint feat to draw you on an outfit over the one he had and captioned “mine knows how to dress 🥵”

Whenever he did want to maybe post some cute pic without all the jokes it’d be something like you’re holding hands or if he fell asleep in your lap he’d post the pic of him in your lap and your hand is visible in his hair

Yeah he also never even mentions your name around his friends. It’s either some nickname like “loser” or he’s just like my s/o. His contact name for you is “im dating?” (Even once your identity isn’t a secret he doesn’t change it to your name it just kinda changes to “I’m engaged?” To “im married?”)

Ok so even once he posts that blurry pic on his public verified account all those months ago he doesn’t really do much more than that. Like folks want an HD pic of you and him? Yeah good luck. He’d occasionally post a ig story of y’all meal together if it was looking extra tasty but that’s about it. People would kinda forget he’s even in the relationship until like your anniversary and he STILL doesn’t feed into the mystery. He got you a gold chain with a charms of his initials. He’d post another dumb black and white filtered pic with his hand resting on the crook of your neck and his thumb near the letters with some caption like “365? That’s wild” at some point after that he’d actually post a real pic with you two bc while it was fun and cool for a while sometimes he does want to actually be a good bf and share some of the dumb shit you two do together (like the time he made a PowerPoint of all the reasons you should buy him a ps5. He recorded all your bored and unamused reactions too. “Because I’m hot and dick game kinda decent,” is not enough of a reason to drop $500+ on you sir esp because hes the type to sometimes just stop mid stroke like “whew yeah ima need you to top now” like the audacity)

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu imagines #suna imagines #hq imagines #hq imagine

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nike-shawn · 4 years ago

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Hockey Shawn Part One

It’s here!! I really hope you guys enjoy my next series: Hockey Shawn! Let me know what you want to see later on, and happy reading! ⚡️❄️

⚡️ November 1st, 2020 ⚡️

You wake up early, before the sun. The hotel room is bathed in city light but the sky is dark, and you notice small snow flurries sticking to the floor to ceiling windows.

Snow. The first of the season.

Careful not to wake the sleeping boy next to you, you sneak out from underneath the duvet and pad to the bathroom where you splash cold water over your face. One quick look at the bags under your eyes and the mats in your hair could tell anyone what you were up to the night prior— you blush as you remember his calloused hands running over your soft skin, moving lower, lower...

You jump into a cold shower. The first seconds are miserable but you soon get used to it, as you always do. Water falls over your tanned legs and shampoo lathers in your hair as you try to hurry through all the steps. You’re going to be late for school, and you’re already skating on thin ice. Your boss, a stern, older woman with bright red glasses, has had her eyes on you since you accidentally let out a laugh at one of your kids’ senior pranks. (It was something to do with shaving cream and pencils— you can’t quite remember, but it definitely was hilarious). One more slap on the wrist and you’ll be firmly placed on her bad side.

Hooking up with a hot guy at a bar on a Sunday night was not the brightest idea you’ve ever had. You didn’t think it would lead to you sleeping in his classy hotel room, but here you are. You can just slip away into the darkness of the morning and he’ll be none the wiser. Of course, you’d love to leave with his number, but you doubt he’s staying in town for more than a few days judging by the lack of luggage he had in his room. You’re better off leaving before he cracks his pretty eyes open.

You towel off and cringe as you put last nights dress on. There’s nothing else to wear, but the thought of dirty clothes touching your newly cleaned skin makes you a bit sad. You push the thought away as you emerge back into the bedroom.

“Oh,” you jump, pressing a palm to your heart that is racing in surprise. “I didn’t think you’d be awake.”

The man who you forgot to ask the name of smiles softly, and you notice that he has an adorable lazy eye. “I have to get going soon too,” he replies. He runs a hand over his unruly curls and clears his throat. You watch as his eyes drag slowly over your body. “Did you want to borrow something?”

You awkwardly pick at the (very short) hem of your dress. “If you don’t mind,” you say.

“Not at all.” He turns to his now open suitcase and starts to shuffle the clothes around. You see a flash of red and black, something that reminds you of a jersey, before the lid closes and he’s offering you a plain white t-shirt and black joggers.

“Oh, wow,” you say as you take in the brand names of each item. “You don’t have to give me nice stuff; I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get it back to you.”

He shakes his head and motions for you to turn around. You do, and he starts to tug your zipper down, much more gently than he did last night. Your dress goes slack around your shoulders. “It’s no problem. Don’t worry about getting them back to me anytime soon.” You smile your appreciation as you pull his clothes on. “Though, I would really like to see you again.”

You blush. “I’d love to see you again, too.”

You turn to examine yourself in the mirror and you catch his eye in the reflection. “Here,” he says. His fingers dig beneath the waistband of your (his) joggers and he rolls it over a few times so the legs aren’t as slouchy as before. Your skin heats up from where he touches it. “Better, eh?”

You raise your eyebrows. “You’re Canadian?”

He just nods, that genial expression still light on his features. He’s really such a kind person, you think, as you grab your purse and dress off the floor. You really would like to see him again.

In an uncharacteristic bout of courage, you lean up and, with a grip on his shoulder, kiss him. You can feel him smiling underneath your lips.

“I hope to see you again soon,” he tells you.

“You too.”

You walk out the door and feel like you’re walking on clouds.

🍁⚡️🍁⚡️

That morning at school, your students are oddly energetic.

You’re trying to gather their attention when you overhear a couple of them talking about some sports scandal. You weren’t interested until you catch a name, one that was oddly familiar. “Shawn Mendes.”

Suddenly you’re transported back to the bar last night, completely sober and fighting annoyance at your best friends who were swooning over a boy across the room. He was obviously trying to stay on the downlow, since he was almost completely shrouded in the darkness of the far corner. “Shawn Mendes,” your friend told you, “he’s in big trouble these days.”

You must have pushed those words out of your mind because not too long after, the same boy ran into you outside of the bathroom. As soon as you locked eyes, you knew exactly how the rest of the night would play out. And you were right, of course, because you woke up in his bed. But if it weren’t for your students’ conversation, that entire situation with your friend would’ve completely slipped your mind.

Trying to push all those anxious thoughts away, you get through the rest of your day with little to no concern for Shawn. However, the second you get back to your apartment, you open up google and type his name into the search bar. Millions of results fill your screen— the first few being articles that reference an infamous video, a conversation between him and a paparazzi. It doesnt take you long to find a link to that particular scene, and you wait only a minute for YouTube to load before his beautiful face comes across your desktop.

He’s flustered, obviously so. It was from last month, so it hasn’t gotten too cold yet, and he’s dressed only in a light windbreaker and sweatpants with a logo you recognize on them. He looks exactly the same as he did in your hotel room, though his hair is a bit shorter. And, of course, he looks a lot angrier. “Get out of my way,” he says gruffly, wedging his way through the crowd of cameras. One person who was out of the frame must have refused to move, because Shawn says “I said, get out of my fucking way, man.” A few seconds pass and they’re all shouting things at him, things like “you and Maddy, huh? How is she doing? Have you talked to her?”

Then, there’s yelling.

The camera pans to the man in question, and all you see is Shawn’s fist collide with his face.

The video ends.

You stare at your computer in shock. Who is this guy? The boy in that hotel room would never do that, not in a million years. And why is he being followed by paparazzi? You figured he played some professional sport, but there’s a big difference between being on a team and being harassed by tabloids, wanting to know every last thing about your love life.

You check the sidebar for more videos of him, and you see a few referencing his “Greatest Plays” or “10 Times Shawn Mendes Made Me Swoon”, but then one towards the bottom catches your eye. “Shawn Mendes’ Career-Ending Accident”.

You’re too curious. You click on the video and feel your heart pound as it loads. It takes you to a hockey rink, the stadium filled with fans cheering loudly. The score is the New York Lightening 3, Detroit Cougars 2. The New York team is wearing the jersey you saw in Shawn’s suitcase. The camera finds him, the star of the show, and you find yourself smiling as you catch a look of his face through his helmet.

Then, a player on the other team comes up and shoves him against the edge of the rink. The hit itself didn’t look extremely hard— you hadn’t seen too much of hockey but you know that the players get hit much harder than that on a regular basis. However, this one must’ve hit somewhere that it shouldn’t have. Shawn falls to the ice and starts convulsing, the scariest sight you’ve seen in many years. The announcers of the game are rightfully concerned, and the crowd has fallen to a whisper. You find your palm over your mouth in shock.

Finally, after what feels like hours, he becomes still and a stretcher breaks through the crowd of medical professionals that have gathered around Shawn, shielding him from view of the camera. He is carried off, and before he disappears into the locker room, you can see him sitting up with a dazed look on his face.

You look over to the shirt and sweatpants he gave you. Last night and this morning with him seems so, so far away, and his picture in your mind has shifted dramatically. He’s an extremely famous hockey player who suffered an injury that has kept him from the game since this day over a year ago, and he has a famous ex-girlfriend who’s simple mention caused him to get angry enough to assault a cameraman.

His name is Shawn Mendes, and you need to see him again.

🍁⚡️🍁⚡️

The opportunity comes a week later.

Your friend convinces you to return to the same bar you went to last week. Convinces is actually quite a strong word for what happened— she mentioned her plans and offered for you to come along and you readily agreed. A part of you desperately wants to see Shawn again and ask him about his life, about all the things you had no idea about before. But you know that, in the off chance you did see him, you’d sink back into your shell and revert to the same thing you two did before. You’d go back to his hotel, have sex, and wake up the next morning beside him, all without any semblance of meaningful conversation.

You walk into the bar and immediately your eyes latch on to that corner where he stationed himself last week. There’s definitely someone there, but it isn’t your six foot something hockey player hookup. You fight the disappointment in your chest.

It’s for the best, anyways. Plus, tonight is Saturday, and last week you saw him on Sunday. Maybe he’s a Sunday night regular. Or, maybe he isn’t a regular at all. With a hint of sadness you realize that he most likely lives somewhere else and just flies in when he needs to be in the city. Why else would he be staying in a hotel?

“What’s wrong?” Your friend Lilly asks, gripping your elbow to gain your attention.

“Oh, nothing. Just distracted,” you say, smiling softly. You sit next to her at a bar stool and immediately lose interest in the scene. The bartender starts to flirt with Lilly and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. You wish Shawn was flirting with you like he is with her, but it seems like you’re fresh out of luck.

The night drags on and you spend a lot of it scrolling through Shawn’s Instagram. Most of the recent posts are sponsored, one for a sports drink and another for a protein powder, and both pictures are just of him with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes on the balcony of a gorgeous high rise somewhere in the city. So he does live here, you think. You want to kick yourself for never getting his phone number. The next few are action shots of him on the ice, his cheeks flushed and his hair sweaty and matted against his head. He looks fantastic in his uniform-- no wonder the pictures have over a million likes each.

“Are you ready to go?” Lilly asks, shaking you out of your Instagram stalking.

With one last glance at that dark corner, you nod and grab your coat and purse. The two of you exit the bar not having paid for one drink thanks to Lilly’s flirtation, and you feel like a deflated balloon. You gained absolutely nothing from the past three hours when you could’ve met back up with the sweet, handsome boy you had a massive crush on who has some secret, intriguing double life that you want to know more about.

You walk back to the parking lot behind the bar and breathe in the very unfamiliar smell of the small patch of forest around the lot. In the city, you don’t get much of that natural, woodsy scent, but you welcome it, even if you can see right through the shallow gathering of tree trunks to the other side, which is classic, crowded New York City. You get lost in the view of the snow gathering on the branches. It’s beautiful.

“Y/N!” Lilly whispers. “Holy shit, is that him?”

You snap back to attention and follow Lilly’s finger to the tall, very familiar figure that’s getting closer and closer. If you didn’t immediately recognize that messy head of curls, you may have been scared. But instead your chest fills with butterflies.

“Hey, wow,” he says as he gets closer. His cheeks are flushed rosy red from the cold and the yellow streetlights illuminate his face enough for you to catch the sight of his adorable lazy eye. He is slightly out of breath and you figure he was on a run, taking a quick glance at his dry-fit long sleeve and leggings with running shorts on top. “Crazy seeing you here.”

You are almost stunned into silence, but Lilly covertly kicks your foot to get your attention again. “Yeah, hey. That is crazy. You live around here, then?”

“No, not really. I’ve been staying at uh... at that hotel.” You can see that he’s uncomfortable with Lilly being there, thinking that she may be unaware. Of course, you already told her everything. “Just went out for a run because I’ve been holed up all day working.”

“Us too. We came to the bar to let loose a little,” Lilly fills in for you. “Rough week at school.”

“You’re both teachers?” He asks.

“Yeah, high school English,” you answer. You start to realize that he knows your job before he knows your first name.

You both let a small silence blanket the conversation before he breaks it with, “I came over because I thought I recognized that shirt.” His blindingly white, straight-toothed smile is back.

You look down, mortified at the memory of throwing on his plain t-shirt underneath a cardigan and tucking it into your jeans only a few hours ago, rushing through getting ready because Lilly was already waiting for you outside your apartment. It was the first thing you saw, so you grabbed it without any thought.

You flush a deep red. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry; I didn’t even realize,” you stammer.

“No, no,” Shawn laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Looks better on you.” If you weren’t blushing before, you definitely are now. “Do love those sweatpants I gave you, though. Can I have your number?” You feel yourself smiling like an idiot, your embarrassment fading away. “Just to get the pants back, of course.”

“Yeah, definitely.” You reach into your purse to grab your phone as he hands you his, a new contact page already pulled up. You both save your name and number in each other’s phones. “My name’s Y/N, by the way,” you say a bit awkwardly.

“I’m Shawn. It’s really nice to run into you, Y/N. Hope I see you soon.”

“Just to get your sweatpants back, right?” You joke.

“Oh, yeah. Just because of the sweatpants.”

You both laugh a bit before waving, and you watch as he disappears back to the trail that he was running on.

Lilly whistles lowly. “Well, shit. You’re in for quite a ride with him.”

You had no idea how right she was.

Part Two

#hockeyshawn #Shawn Mendes Imagine #fluff #HOW DID YOU LIKE IT #Idk it's kinda long but it needed all that build up #PLS LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK

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cyber-flight · 5 years ago

Text

Notes from the AHWM Explanation Livestream

This will be long, so fair warning! If you're on computer, you can press the spacebar to skip this post if you want!

There was CG smoke for the bomb

The last shot was running after the bomb goes off, filmed during the day

Many cursed images

(0:56 - Guns Blazing) November 5th = gunpowder treason & plot (a reference)

Ethan is the one yelling during the run

Helicopter/Car was filmed in a place formerly known as Spiderwoods (spiders, snakes, and bugs everywhere)

Mark's patented method to get rid of snakes is to tell them to fuck off

There was big black snake near the library

Chica snore-grumbles

Most of the choices were pretty evenly split in the video data

The guy who owned the field in Helicopter/Car also owned the helicopter

It was hard to get the cameraman to know that the camera is an interacting character

They filmed up to 10 pages a day

Prison was the first 2 days of shooting, as well as the part with the most characters/extras (12 people)

Mick gets typecasted in roles of authority

The Prison location is a functioning mental hospital

John was a Prisoner, first mate, and is a realtor IRL

There is no "why" to recording this to keep a broad audience and have fun after Mark was in a depression and made WKM

The Gregory Brothers / Schmoyoho made 2 renditions of I Don't Wanna Be Free (which is on Apple/iTunes/Spotify)

The musical was a production/recording nightmare on the 2nd day

They had 20 minutes max. to learn each segment; they had a choreographer helping them learn the dances

The original vocals didn't have the accent

Mark had to do the vocals, acting, blocking, etc. in 30 mins

Mick was supposed to cross frame during the top-hats-part, but they had already recorded it; the producers weren't comfortable telling Mark "no" yet, so they had Amy do it

The smashed bricks were styrofoam; Mark was typed to a rope that was pulled

The director of photography was Phillip J Roy; he took a pay cut to work on this project

Yancy's sleeve tattoo is the whole map again

Yancy's tattoos are Tiny Box Tim and Mark/Dark across his knuckles; those were Makeup's ideas

The Musical was only 1/4 of a recording day

There was 3 work weeks of shooting (15 days)

Day By Dave made a remix

Yancy was named "Prison Mark" until the fight scene started to be made in post-production, where he needed a name; Mark liked Yancy and Amy was very against it originally

Yancy killed both of his parents; Mark knew people were gonna fall in love with him anyway

"Yancy stans, go, march on"

Yancy has an emoji bandaid

Heapass (canonically) makes an appearance in Thanks and also Yes Please; he had "Heapass" on a cast, but it was on the wrong side from the camera

Holt Boggs (the cell guard) is an amazing man; he was overqualified ("soft hands")

The cell was in a green-screen soundstage, so there was more improve

Yancy was supposed to be hidden in the ceiling or beside the bed, but under the bed turned out better; he's hidden under the bed the whole scene

The Red Gemini was the camera that they used for this project

Mark just runs off frame in Thanks and also Yes Please

The audio-only part was very convenient for filming and fitting for a 1st-person perspective

Yancy's talk at the gate was Mark real-acting & the late shot of the 1st day of filming, which made all of them realize that the project could actually work

Yancy WANTS to be in prison; he knows all the ways out - he'd leave if he wanted to

The items in the box are more representational achievements

Mark needs our help to promote AHWM, through liking the video(s), commenting good things, and spreading the project; the performance of this dictates the ability to make another similar project

Mark worked for FREE for 5 months, taking no cut of the budget for himself

"Yancy is just Prison Mark with amnesia" "There could be a time-skip there; it could work"

Robert Rex, "a god walking amongst mere morals;" has always wearing the same thing; Mark didn't know that he was going to do different accents

Amy is the hand with the feather-duster

The Warden's desk moves into the hallway after a smash-cut

Mick's line had to be rewritten so it can be ambiguous; you can only tell if you were looking

The Warden embodies "big strong hands," something Mark writes into dialogue a lot (along with "trust you me"); everytime he touches something it cracks (his desk, Yancy's shoulder)

Pulling stuff from behind Mark's back was on-the-spot

The dirt joke was a prop-person and Mark throwing buckets

Mark helped Holt Boggs make a short video

HOLT BOGGS

The truck in Prison was a one-take-wonder; they actually bashed the truck through the wall in a such a cartoony, perfect way

The Bob/Wade skit was a reference to Prop Hunt

Mark comparing the disappointment of people not liking the video to a cup of dirt under the Christmas tree

The lid to the sewer says "a heist with markiplier"

The sewer was in an actual sewer treatment plant, which took about a week of filming; some parts were flooded so they couldn't film there; this place was scheduled to be torn down

Mark forces us to choose the Light Tunnel first

Cranbersher, GrittySugar, and Lixian collaborated for the Light Tunnel; it was originally going to be live action with a green-screen and a pre-made raft; Cranberser offered when he had a 3-month break from other projects

Amy notes that Mark did a lot of "falling"

Mark had to carry a 200 pound man and a heavy camera rig to carry Y/N

There was poison ivy, snakes, spiders, etc. on the island

The Game Grumps voiced the aliens; Erin originally was meant to play the Warden & Danny was meant to play one of the guards

Many roles fluctuated due to scheduling

Getting abducted is a reference to ADWM ("not again!")

Mark loves MatPat's scenes and acting (Build a Shelter)

There were so many mosquitos near the Cave and the actors couldn't put on bug spray because they had to preserve their makeups

There was a giant hole in the Cave from which grasshoppers rained down

They were a mile into the cave; they weren't able to staff them for 3 days, so they recorded for 2 days and had fo cut some shots

The Cave freeze-frame was unscripted; the camera director didn't tell cut and it was too funny

The Hermit was originally supposed to be Jacksepticeye but scheduling errors were in the way

Mick was originally supposed to be Crazy Ed

When the sound-guy didnt have a sound effect, one of them riffed something at the mic and it was modulated to fit as best as possible

Mark's camera loses signal/battery power

Mark has done the hot-wire-while-moving in Car before (van videos)

The blue flash during Car is you from the future/another timeline

Mark was actually driving the car; someone flashed the blue light so it was a bit dangerous

Tyler and Ethan make appearances as Zombies

Tyler actually let Mark hit him with a rock

There was a dead beaver in the shed during the Zombie Apocalypse

The Zombie Apocalypse shots were in VERY hot weather

The barricaded front door but very open back door was intentional humour

Ethan's zombie handshake was thought up on the spot

Moe was the man screaming from the fire and zombie attack, making everyone behind the camera laugh

Rosanna Pansino sings opera & speaks Chinese

The Scientist had to be broken up (the cuts are in the gunshots)

243 is a chemical identification symbol in an actual laboratory, nothing meaningful to the plot

The code leads to the AHWM website

What's truly inside the box is the real timeline, which is the team making the project

The room where the monitor was in (Amy, script manager, etc.) was locked out and no one could see what was going on, only hear it through headsets

Mark threw 2 dummies (main video, Absolutely Not!)

Chica likes to climb through the cords underneath Mark's desk

The true/canon ending is For The Greater Good, which leads to ADWM

SodaPopIn hasn't really done this before, but he went with it because he was told Mark was nice; he continued even during harsh weather, many planes, and a long take/monologue

The sandwiches are a callback to ADWM

The montage endings were inspired by the ones Amy made for ADWM

There was never any time set aside to get photos for the montages, so they had to continuously get pictures

Catherine makes an appearance in the Warfstache bit

Warfstache is just a meta joke > you respond by writing in the comments as a survey, producer Catherine is more powerful than the video-editing, ringing the bell for notifications

They rented the same place for the Warfstache bit that they used to film all the other previous Warfstache bits

Dark inserts himself wherever he feels like being

There is charity (#TeamTrees) merch for each of the egos/Mark characters in this project (including the new ones)

Edge of Sleep's last episode aired yesterday (as of the stream - 6/11/19)

A "reverse" charity livestream is happening soon

The next project(s) are already in the works

SPREAD THE WORD ABOUT HEIST

Amy originally wasn't going to work on this project until they went to Texas; she became Creative Producer once Mark put himself into too many places

Iba originally auditioned for the man in the burning truck, but his voice was so good he became the seer/guide

The project has been "cooking" since May

The next project would be a completely different project, not a continuation

SPREAD THE WORD ABOUT HEIST

Regular uploads start again tomorrow (7/11/19)

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maddiewritesstucky · 4 years ago

Text

Call me maybe (but only during business hours)

A smutty gift for @raynakiasbel, for her endless patience with my infuriatingly slow writing and inability to focus on one thing at a time!

Pairing: Steve/Bucky

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 3308

Tags: CEO Steve, College Student Bucky, Poorly-Timed Phone Sex, Anal Fingering, Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Light Daddy Kink, Dom/Sub Undertones

Part 1 of the SugarVerse series on Ao3

Bucky is most definitely not watching the clock.

His eyes have absolutely not been glued to the LED display on the bedside table for what feels like a hundred goddamn years, watching the little white lines form number after number, blinking their way into the formation that will mean he can pick up his phone, and call Steve.

That would be all kinds of pathetic, and Bucky is not that kind of boyfriend.

He’s certainly not the kind of boyfriend who’s already fixing to climb out of his skin on day three (three!) of Steve’s out-of-town business trip. Bucky is one of those autonomous, self-sufficient boyfriends, who is entirely too busy with his own obscenely full schedule to care about the fact that he’s not getting dicked down at his every whim this week.

He has midterms to study for, and hours to log at StarkTech to go towards his internship, and Nat’s surprise birthday party to plan even though she’s literally impossible to surprise…he doesn’t have the mental real estate to spare on thirst right now. He might have become a whole other kind of hoe since being exposed to the many splendors of Steve Rogers’ cock, but twitching for it before they’ve even hit the seventy-two hour mark?

That would be highly problematic, if that was happening.

Which it isn’t.

Bucky is well accustomed to flying solo when Steve’s off in corporate alter-ego mode; he’s done this countless times over the past few months since he moved in with Steve, and he’d made his peace with it long before that. You don’t couple up with the CEO of an internationally renowned architecture firm and expect to see his face at the dinner table every night, and for the most part, Bucky has no complaints about having the stupidly plush bed all to his starfishing self a few nights a month.

It’s just...there’s a method to this, usually. And that method does not involve three entire days of near radio silence.

When Steve goes away, even on his busier trips, he always finds time to call Bucky at least once a day, even if it’s just five minutes as he’s crawling into bed to say goodnight. They’ll text, and Steve will send emails that are endearingly formal because his brain tends to stay in CEO-mode 24/7 when he’s on business trips, and they’ll generally tide one another over with tidbits of cyber-affection until they get back in the same physical space.

But this time? They’ve hardly been in contact at all. And it’s on Bucky, too, at least in part - he’s been swamped with his own workload the past few weeks, struggling to find quality time or head space even in the few days just before Steve left, and all they’ve managed so far is a few sporadic messages in their rare moments of down-time, which have so far been chaotically misaligned.

It’s been a drag, if Bucky’s honest, and he can occupy himself all he wants with his exam prep and his party-plotting, but at the end of the day…

Bucky’s just a boy, laying in front of a clock, asking his dick to hold out just a few more minutes.

Because right now, it’s 10:42pm.

It’s 10:42pm, which means that in exactly three minutes, Steve will be sliding into the crisp white sheets of whatever lavish hotel bed he’s being put up in; buck-ass naked because he’s as stringent on his no-pyjamas policy as he is on his bed time, and in exactly three minutes…

Bucky’s gonna call him, and phone-fuck the soul right out of his offensively perfect body.

He flips onto his back and nestles into the pillows, a dumb grin already fixing to his face in his hormone-fuelled stupor. The lights of the city outside the floor-to-ceiling penthouse windows bathe his naked skin in soft orange-gold, and his hand migrates of its own accord to the semi he’s been rocking ever since it occurred to him that he could just straight up call Steve and spring a jerk-sesh on him.

The whole thing feels deliciously sneaky-skanky. He’s never done this before, just cold-called Steve with an x-rated agenda. They’ve had phone sex before, a great many times in fact, but there’s always a lead-in; a text exchange turned sordid that spirals into a video call straight out of Bucky’s horny teenage fantasies.

But he’s never gone in jizz-first, ask-questions-later, and as certain as he is that Steve will be entirely on board, it feels just risky enough to have Bucky a little high off the adrenaline of it.

Here lies Bucky, Queen of the Sluts! Stretched out bare atop cream colored sheets, lit up by the New York skyline! Dick in hand and filth on the tip of his tongue!

He is power! He is scandal! He is ready for this!

He pulls the lube out from its hiding place under the pillow and slicks himself up, stroking slow as he tries to summon some small measure of nonchalance about the whole thing. He has a vision for how he wants this to go, and it does not involve him losing his cool the second he hears Steve’s voice on the other end of the line.

This is about seduction, about surprising Steve with some old-school nasty, no video or visuals involved - just Bucky’s filthy mouth and vivid imagination, and he’s determined to keep it together long enough to paint Steve a picture he can jack it to.

He pulls up Steve’s contact and waits out the final torturous minute with his heart in his throat, hitting the call button the second it ticks over to go-time. He hits the speakerphone button, dropping the phone onto the pillow next to him, and holds his breath through the four rings it takes for Steve to pick up.

“...James?”

And oh, but that bodes well...Steve uses his real name in two contexts, and two contexts only - when Bucky visits him at work and he’s in business mode, and when he’s got Bucky flat on his back underneath him, letting him have it.

If Steve’s already keyed up tonight? This just got a lot more interesting.

“Mm, there it is,” Bucky heaves a deep sigh, “that’s what I needed, that voice...”

His mind’s eye conjures up visions of Steve spread out across the bed, taut lines of muscle and bare flesh all laid out. He’s probably just had a shower, so his skin would be all warm and pink, smelling like soap and aftershave; his hair all fluffy from that irreverent way he has of rubbing it towel-dry...god, Bucky misses him.

“James? Are you alright?”

He can practically hear Steve’s brows drawing together in that way they do when he’s overworked; a tight-wound tension in his voice that Bucky has every confidence he can allay before the night’s through.

“Mm, be a lot better if it was your hand wrapped around my cock right now,” Bucky drawls, rolling his body for his audience of no one, “but I guess I’ll just have to settle for fucking my fist to the sound of your voice. Can you hear me touching myself, Daddy?”

He breathes a soft groan as he strokes himself slick and languid, and Steve is silent for a long moment that Bucky’s brain is all too happy to color in with pornographic images of how Steve might be listening; where his hands might be wandering, how his cock would be filling at the mental picture Bucky’s painting. Bucky thinks this might just be the best idea he’s ever had, and he doesn’t hold back on letting Steve hear exactly how good he’s feeling about his decision...

...Until Steve clears his throat, and unceremoniously hits him with an ice-cold dousing of you-done-fucked-up.

“I’m in a meeting right now, I have two clients with me.”

There is zero inflection in his tone, and if Bucky thought he had experienced true panic before, he was mistaken. He can physically feel himself paling; his mouth dropping open soundlessly, humiliation warring with plain confusion as to why the hell Steve is still working at this ridiculous hour.

And then it clicks.

Horribly, harrowingly clicks.

Steve isn’t working at stupid o’clock at night.

In the perpetual haze of Bucky’s overworked brain and Steve’s ever-changing schedule, Bucky had forgotten that this trip was taking Steve to Hawaii.

For Steve, it isn’t slutty phone-sex hours. It’s very sensible, 4:45pm strictly-business hours.

“Ohmygod,” Bucky gasps, bolting upright and looking desperately around the room like it might hold the solution to his colossal screw up, “Steve, I completely forgot--”

“Mr Barnes, I can give you exactly two minutes of my time right now because I realize it’s been difficult to touch base recently,” Steve interrupts, his tone cooling abruptly with the air of professional detachment and veiled authority Bucky’s heard him use on work calls a thousand times. “Can you tell me exactly what the issue is with the redesign?”

...Bucky blinks, breath caught in his throat as he scrambles to string together some sense from Steve’s response.

Steve hasn’t mentioned any specific projects lately, is Bucky supposed to know something about a redesign? Was there something he--

Oh.

His brain and his dick catch on at the same time in a borderline painful rush of blood. He hears Steve pull back from the phone to address his clients, placating them with an apology and the assurance that this won’t take long, and Jesus Christ...Steve is actually doing this.

Steve is actually going to let this happen, going to let Bucky have one-sided phone sex with him while he sits there in some boardroom, with actual clients sitting right in front of him.

What the fuck.

Bucky’s breath leaves him in a rush as he drops back against the pillows and wraps a frantic hand around himself. “The issue is you’ve been gone three fucking days and I wanna sit on your face.”

“Mm, I see why that’s problematic,” Steve muses, cool and unaffected, “what exactly do you need from me?”

God, Bucky can just picture it - Steve sitting there looking like a fucking wet dream in one of his distractingly well-fitting suits, with his hair swept perfectly over and his beard trimmed just close enough to show off the sharp cut of his jaw; radiating that air of quiet authority that makes Bucky want to bounce in his lap until he dies...

Bucky knows for a fact that Steve’s face will be betraying precisely none of what’s happening on the other end of the line, and why the hell is that such a turn on?

“Well I was gonna describe in graphic detail all the things I want you to do to me when you get back,” Bucky huffs, breaths coming faster already, “but if I’m on the clock now, guess I’ll have to settle for sayin’ I need you to bring that dick home ASAP...fuckin’ miss it.”

“I see,” Steve sighs, “well I’m not back in New York for a few days yet, how do you plan to manage this in the interim?”

Bucky curses under his breath, tightening his grip on himself. “Just have to fuck myself, imagine it’s you.” He sounds every bit as unconvinced of the efficacy of this plan as they both know he is, and Steve hums thoughtfully in response.

“I’m going to need more detail, paint me a picture here.”

Bucky knows he’s blushing, feels the heat of it all the way down his chest, and fuck this shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Dirty talking at Steve and getting nothing back but clipped responses, void of emotion and the usual undercurrent of affection he’s become accustomed to?

Work-Steve needs to come to the bedroom more often.

“I’ll touch myself, like I’m doing right now,” he twists his grip a little on the upstroke, hissing at the change in sensation, “get my fist all wet and tight around my cock...pretend it’s your mouth.”

How close are Steve’s clients sitting to him? Steve wouldn’t be letting this happen if there was any way they could hear...but what if one of them has some kind of medical condition that gives them enhanced hearing? What if one of them can read minds and is hearing this entire conversation play out in stereo quality in their head?

Why is there a part of Bucky that hopes one or both of those things are true?!

“...And?” Steve prompts, almost brusque, and Bucky gives himself a second to revel in the way his dick twitches for the hard edge in Steve’s voice.

“And I’ll, fuck- ” Bucky stutters, rocking his hips with the rhythm of his strokes, pushing himself up through his grip, “I’ll use my toys, fingerfuck myself.”

“Right, well why don’t you go ahead and start that for me now,” Steve says, off-hand; pulling back from the phone to place an honest-to-god coffee order with the oblivious intern who’s now seemingly in the room too, and Bucky’s never felt more of an affinity for the whole bored-and-ignored thing.

He slicks up the fingers of his free hand and shifts a little onto his side, hiking a knee up as he slips a finger inside himself.

“Can I take that as a yes, Mr Barnes?” Steve asks at the breathy moan Bucky lets out as he presses in first with one, and then with two fingers, and Bucky nods frantically even though Steve can’t see him.

“Yes, fuck...I'm doin' it...feels so fucking good, Steve.”

And it does. It’s a difficult angle, and he can't quite hit the spot he wants to inside himself, but the steady stroke-tug against his rim while his fist flies over his cock is working for him; winding him towards what would, in any other non time-constrained circumstance, be an embarrassingly fast orgasm.

He can hear Steve shuffling papers, making quiet sounds of agreement along with whatever conversation is going on in the background between his clients whilst they wait, unknowing, and Bucky can’t decide whether it’s a blessing or an immense disappointment that Steve has to bite his tongue right now; that he can’t unleash any of the filth he’d definitely be spitting if he didn’t have an audience.

Steve fucking loves to run his mouth, and Bucky loves to hear it; lives for the endlessly colorful obscenities Steve comes out with in the throws of it.

Just listen to you, he’d be laughing a little; his voice dripping with that indulgent, self-satisfied grin he gets, so goddamn easy for it, ain’t that right baby? Three fuckin’ days and you’re gagging for it...should be ashamed of yourself…

But Steve is in a very public forum right now, in the middle of a meeting no less, trying to give the impression that he’s very decidedly not having phone sex. Right now, he’s Steve Rogers - CEO, consummate professional.

But he is also an asshole, and when he asks Bucky “do you feel you have a firm grasp on the situation, or would a second set of hands be helpful on this one?” Bucky swears he can hear that faint hint of a smirk all the way across the fucking country.

“Might just have to go find myself a second set of hands if you stay away too long,” Bucky retorts, emboldened by the distance, and a little morbidly curious to see what sassing gets him when Steve can’t say shit about it.

Turns out, what it gets him is a full-body shiver and a throb between his thighs as Steve’s tone dips to somewhere in the realm of politely-veiled threat. “I would not advise that, Mr Barnes.”

It occurs to Bucky, then, that this won’t just be done and dusted once they hang up. At the end of the week, Steve will come back to New York, and he will absolutely have some Things To Say about this little interruption.

He can picture it now, the way Steve will stand there all calm, staring him down with his mouth upticked at the corner while Bucky fumbles his way through an explanation.

He’ll probably do that thing where he doesn’t say much but his eyes say everything, and Bucky will have to try really hard to seem remorseful even though they’ll both know he’s not actually all that sorry. And Steve won’t want him to be, not really, but it’ll be something he can use to their mutual benefit, nonetheless.

Fuck, Steve might spank him.

Bucky smothers a moan into the pillow next to him, twisting his fingers inside himself and brushing his thumb across the head of his cock as he turns that thought over, Steve bending him over his knee, or better yet, over his desk...

“Oh,” Bucky gasps, a sudden rush of heat twisting tight in his gut, “fuck, I’m gonna come.”

Steve huffs a vaguely incredulous laugh, and there’s a faint creaking sound like he’s settling further back in his chair. “Oh really? Who authorized that?”

Bucky lets out a deeply undignified whine, his whole body strung tight enough to snap; caught between the sensations of his hand moving frantically over his dick and his fingers scissoring inside himself.

“Come on,” he whimpers, teetering on the knife edge of losing it, “tell me I can finish, please.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

Oh, fuck him, fuck him...how is he still edging Bucky when he was the one who put the rush order on this?

“Please, Daddy,” Bucky doesn’t try to hide the desperation in his voice as he changes tact, “if you don’t authorize this orgasm I think I’m gonna go blind, just fucking let me come!”

Steve pauses a beat, humming a considering sound. “No, I’m not comfortable signing off on that. We’re tabling this until I get back to New York.”

Bucky freezes, both hands stilling; his face crumbling into a mask of abject disbelief. “You can’t be serious?” His stomach drops, even as something in the back of his mind says he really should have seen this coming...or, not coming, as is the case.

“I'm sure we can come to a far more satisfying resolution in person,” Steve says, maddeningly cavalier.

Bucky’s gearing up to plead his case, but Steve’s not done ruining his night yet.

“In fact, Mr Barnes,” he piles on, “I’d like to make you personally responsible for ensuring no further action is taken on the matter until I return. Can I trust you with this?”

Bucky gapes down at his poor, oblivious cock still standing at eager attention in his grasp, unaware of the disaster that’s just befallen them, and he takes his hands off himself with a pained groan.

“This is criminal,” he objects, flopping heavily onto his back and throwing his arms out to his sides, “if my dick falls off, it’s your fault!”

“Great! Glad to hear it,” Steve chirps, as if he's not the worst person alive, “I’ll be in touch.”

“Whatever,” Bucky scowls at the shadows stretching across the ceiling, willing his mind off the throbbing ache of injustice between his thighs, “I’m totally not answering any of your calls.”

Steve’s smile bleeds into his tone a little when he responds, the closest he’s come to fondness yet. “Okay, speak soon, Mr Barnes.”

Bucky tries, really tries, to inject some petulance into his tone as he signs off with a grumbled “love you, I guess,” but he can’t quite bring himself to sulk as much as he feels the situation warrants.

After all, in exactly four days, Steve will come back to New York.

He’ll come home, and they’ll laugh about this, and in exactly four days…

Steve will make him forget what he was even upset about in the first place.

(Part 2 of the series here!)

#steve/bucky #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #steve x bucky #stucky fanfic #ao3 stucky #daddy steve rogers

192 notes · View notes

sillyrabbit81 · 4 years ago

Text

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.7k

Warnings: swearing, angst, drunk, motion of death

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 2 Part 4

Part 3

In less than ten minutes, we had pulled up to Liam's house. Liam paid for the taxi too. I kind of argued this time, but he pointed out he asked me to his house. I didn't get too stubborn about it.

Liam was living in a four-story terrace house, recently renovated by the looks of it. It was painted white with black wrought iron lacework, and it was beautiful. The front door and windows were painted black. It appeared to be the twin of the house that shared its wall.

We entered through the dining room, and I realised it was actually the two houses renovated together. The inside was modern with original heritage touches. The floors were light timber, and the walls were white. The ceilings had plaster and cornice so beautifully ornate that restoration must have taken ages. The room had an imposing black marble fireplace and a deep brown, almost black wooden dining table set on a grey shag rug in the room's centre. A huge abstract painting of bright pinks, greens and grey hung on the wall.

"Wow, this must have cost a mint!" I quickly covered my mouth. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"It's ok. I was pleasantly surprised by the house too. The studio got the house for me I...." Liam was interrupted by a massive dog bounding into the room.

Liam got down and roughhoused with the dog for a bit. Wow, he was a monster! I'd seen a picture of Cole before that "Will" had sent me, but I wasn't quite prepared for how big he was. He was almost completely black with some brown above his eyes and ears. His paws were brown too, and his belly was grey. He wasn't any particular breed, apparently a rescue dog. I thought of my bull terrier cross cattle dog at home. This dog would eat him for breakfast, and Perrin wasn't small.

Cole's pink tongue lolled, and he panted as Liam moved from side to side. Cole imitated Liam's actions jumping about. He barked a couple of times as he got excited by the play. The noise reverberated through the quiet house.

"Shhh, Cole, people are sleeping." Liam softly admonished. Then his voice became stern. "Sit," he ordered before patting him. Liam looked at me and said, "Lana, this is Cole. Cole, Lana."

"Hi, Cole. You're much bigger in person." I could hear the slight tremor in my voice. Liam must have sensed I was nervous and came over to stand near me. Cole padded over and sniffed at me. Gingerly, I put my hand by my side and let him approach me. Cole nuzzled my hand, and I gave him a pat on the side of his neck. I let out a sigh of relief.

"I was worried he wouldn't like me. I love dogs but always get nervous around new ones." Liam put his head to the side, asking a silent question. "I had a dingo go me one time, and I've never really gotten over it." I squatted down and gave Cole more pats. "I think this guy is ok, though."

"Yeah, he's a good boy. How is Perrin, by the way?"

"He's ok." I sighed, "he's just old. The poor little guy can't get onto my bed anymore and sleeps in my lounge room now. I kinda miss it, but I have slept a bit better."

Liam gave Cole some more pats and told him to go sit. "Come on. I'll make you a tea or coffee if you'd like." I agreed a coffee would be perfect right now. I needed something to sober me up.

I sat at the kitchen bench while Liam made coffees. Cole sat by my stool, and I patted his head while watching Liam. Liam had kicked off his shoes and was walking around in his bare feet. It was amazing to see him so much more relaxed here than while we were out. He really did appear to enjoy being at home.

As Liam made our coffee, he moved with a grace that surprised me. His movements seemed economical and rigid but hinted at the power beneath them. He seemed coiled and ready to explode at any moment. It was like he was dancing the pasodoble, his body moving to an invisible beat. Images of Strictly Ballroom came into my mind, and I found myself humming Love is in the Air. I was drunker than I thought.

When Liam was done, he led me over to his large L shaped lounge, and I sat. Liam flopped down next to me, casually laying back and popped his feet up on the coffee table. Cole sat on a mat that was clearly his.

I sipped my coffee, not knowing what else to do. Suddenly the quiet between Liam and I felt awkward.

Liam and I spoke at the same time, "What.." "So..."

We both laughed. Liam indicated I should proceed. "Well, I was going to ask what brought you out to Sydney, for real, not the Will answer."

"A new project. I'm going to be filming a television show." Liam proceeded to tell me about his project, working with some people from Netflix on a fantasy/sci-fi series adaptation. He was so animated when telling me that it was obvious that he loved his job.

It would be his first television series and was to be more romance heavy than anything he had done in years. Liam explained that he is filming here because the story was written and developed in Australia. "If it works out, I'll probably be based out of Australia for the next few years. I'll go home to England for a few months during breaks, maybe do some small film roles. It's hard with Cole, though, because every trip into Australia means 10 days quarantine for him."

"Oh yeah, and you don't want a Pistol and Boo situation." Liam looked confused, and I explained about Amber Heard and Johnny Depp smuggling their dogs into Australia.

"I thought you said you don't follow celebrity gossip."

"I don't, but that was big news, hilarious really. It was on every bit of media in Australia, and then they had to make this cringe video apology. I almost felt bad for them." Then I yawned, suddenly all the alcohol had lost its buzz, and I was just tired. "The coffee doesn't seem to be doing its job. What time is it?"

Liam looked at his watch, "11.30."

"Yeah, it's late. I should get home. I don't want to turn into a pumpkin." I cringed. Fuck.

"You don't have to go. You could stay here." I raised my eyebrows. "I do have more than one bed if that's what you want." Liam leaned over to me and placed a hand on my cheek, rubbing his thumb against my skin.

I looked at my nearly empty coffee mug. I swirled the dregs around the bottom as if it were tea leaves, and they would tell me what to do. "I don't want to go home yet, but I don't want to go too fast, either."

"That's ok."

I didn't move. I wanted to stay. Ten years ago, I would have stayed, but Andy's face flashed into my thoughts. I knew it was ridiculous. Andy had been gone for over three years now. But every time I even contemplated being with someone, I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Liam was waiting for an answer, but I didn't know what to tell him. 'It's not you, it's me' is such a tired cliche, but sometimes it's true.

"Lana, it's ok. If you want to go home, that's absolutely fine. I'll even call you an Uber."

I felt my eyes sting, and I looked away from Liam. My bloody traitorous tear ducts giving me away. I shouldn't have drunk so much. Alcohol always makes me emotional.

"Fuck." I swore under my breath. I angrily wiped at my eyes, thankful I had used waterproof mascara. My eyeliner was a different story, though, and black streaked my fingers. I asked Liam where his bathroom was, and I got up, only half listening to his directions. I found it quickly. It was only through the doorway into a little enclave with a powder room, stairs and a lift. What kind of bloody house has a lift?

I closed the door and sat on the toilet seat. I knew enough not to try to stop the tears, so I just let them go. Bloody hell, Andy. Why did he fucking have to leave me? Why the fuck did you have to fucking die. Goddammit. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I do this to Andy? I wanted to scream, to punch something, to throw something. I needed another cigarette. Fuck you, Andy. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck Liam.

As I always did when I thought of Andy, I remembered the last time I saw him. His sweet face looked down at me as he kissed me goodbye. His deep brown hair fell like a curtain around us, hiding our kiss from the world. Cheekily I had slipped my tongue into his mouth, and he had groaned as he pulled away. He told me to save it for when he got back and would be as quick as he could be. I had thanked him for filling in for me. He winked and said to thank him later. Then he left.

When I was able to, I started to take deep breaths. In through my nose, out through my mouth. I could feel the tightness in my chest slowly ease. Breathing became more comfortable, and the tears stopped. I looked at my hands, and I was able to release the fists I was making. My nails hadn't broken the skin this time, but small red crescents remained etched into my palms.

I waited a few minutes longer to make sure the moment had passed. It wasn't Andy's fault he died, and I knew that. It's also not my fault that I wanted someone to love again. Sleeping with someone other than Andy felt like crossing the Rubicon, no going back.

The fact was there is no going back, no Andy to go back to, even if I wanted. In my head, it still felt like a betrayal. But it wasn't. And Liam wasn't just anybody. He was a guy I had spent weeks talking to, getting to know, and although he looks different, he is still acting as I had expected. I saw a potential future here. Did I really want to let my past ruin it?

I cleared my throat and stood up, preparing myself to see the horror that looked back at me. Ugh, it wasn't great. My eyeliner had given me panda eyes, and the tears had created streaks down my cheeks.

Getting a tissue and blew my nose, and decided there was nothing else for it, I washed my makeup off my face. I avoided washing my eye makeup off though, that was a mess I just didn't have the products for, so I just wiped under my eyes and cleaned it up. I binned my tissues, washed my hands, took a few more deep breaths and prepared myself to face Liam.

I opened the door and walked straight into something solid that made me bounce back into the bathroom like a tennis ball. Hands caught me before I hit the floor, and I found myself in Liam's arms.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" He asked.

"No," I was flustered again. I spent all that time calming down to just be in a state two seconds later. "I just didn't expect you to be outside the door. Jesus, you're like a brick shit house."

Liam didn't laugh. "I was worried about you."

"I'm fine," I lied.

Liam didn't look convinced. He let me go and ran a hand through his hair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now."

Liam nodded. "I'll get you that Uber." He pulled his phone out.

That's it then. All in all, it wasn't the worst date I'd been on since Andy died. Actually, it was probably the best. Liam, at least, was a guy I was attracted to and didn't appear to be a man child. He seemed to like me, even when I cried over another man. Although I doubt Liam knew that's why I was crying. I had told him I was married before and he had died, but that was only once and a long time ago, and we hadn't discussed it again.

The tears had done their job, and a calmness came over me now. I had said goodbye to Andy, and I was ready to take that last step to move on. That was why I started to date again; to open my heart, I was ready.

I put my hand on Liam's wrist, "if you still want me to, I'd like to stay."

"Are you sure? I probably shouldn't have asked in the first place. I let my other head think for me." Though I laughed at his candid admission, Liam's face was serious. "I'm not joking. I want you, and I didn't think about how you must be feeling. The whole fake profile thing must still be weighing on your mind. And all of the other problems that go along with being with me. You should have more time to think about it."

And my dead husband, let's not forget that. I didn't say that out loud, thank God. "I will have time to think about it. But right now, I want..." Shit. I've gone shy again. Just fucking tell him you want him too! "I mean, can't we just have a bit of a cuddle and a snog?"

Liam's lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile, "a cuddle and a snog?"

I nodded.

Smiling, Liam put his phone back in his pocket. "I think I can arrange that."

Without further warning, Liam grabbed my wrists in one hand and pinned them to the wall above my head. His other hand snaked around my waist, holding me to him, his hips rolling into mine. His eyes were fierce and focused on mine. I closed my eyes, the sensations too much, and my breath quickened.

I heard Liam say through gritted teeth, "It's taken everything I had not to do this to you since I saw you at the bar. I wanted to take you then and there." His voice seemed to ease, the words coming easier for him. "You don't know how much I've wanted to touch you. To know you are real." Then he whispered, "and you are. Real. You're as beautiful tonight as you were in your pictures."

I opened my eyes and found Liam staring at me, and his intensity was nearly frightening. He pulled me tighter against himself, his fingertips digging into me while he crushed me against his body. I felt his hardness against my hip, and I couldn't stop myself from rubbing against it. This time Liam closed his eyes, and I felt the rush of blood to my centre.

Liam opened his eyes, desire naked on his face, "Kiss me," he said.

I met his soft and warm lips. I felt Liam's groan rumble in his vast chest, and kissing him again, my lips scraped against his whiskers. Liam kissed me back now. His tongue pushed past my lips, and found mine. His tongue playfully danced in my mouth. Liam's hand left my arse and started to feel my hips, my waist and then my breasts. He cupped them and gently squeezed. My breath caught as his hand skimmed past my nipple. His palm created friction against the lace of my bra, and tingles radiated through my body.

His lips left mine and went to my neck. He kissed and sucked at me, moving down to the top of my breasts. I heard him take a deep breath into my chest as his cheeks rubbed against my skin. His kisses became harder against my chest and moved back up to my neck, his teeth nipping at me as he went. Even though he had me captured, I wriggled against him, my hips moved uncontrollably, my breath uneven and weak.

Liam pulled away, still firmly gripping one of my hands. "Come with me." Liam led me to the lift.

"Where are we going?"

"To my bedroom." I pulled against him, forcing him to stop. "Sweetheart, I promise I won't fuck you until you ask."

My legs turned to jelly. I wanted to fall to my knees and beg despite my reservations. I nodded and followed Liam into the lift.

Part 4

#original character #original fiction #romantic story

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