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moldisgoodforyou · 4 years

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lost time (chapter two)

pairing: rafe cameron x oc

warnings: drinking, cursing, mentions of sex

wordcount: 1.6k

MASTERLIST

_______

By some strange coincidence, Rafe and Sophie were in the same section of their debate class. (Some might call it fate. Sophie would call it a curse.)

It was one of the less popular general education options in the communications section that all Ohio State students had to pick from, but they were both drawn to the idea of the challenge while enrolling. The class was fairly small for a gen ed, only about 40 students. When Rafe walked in on the first day, two minutes to start, he spotted Sophie immediately. She was poised with her notebook laid out, colored pens and all, and Rafe couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He deliberately sat opposite the room from Sophie, hoping and praying they would never be paired together. It was fun to argue about useless things at parties, but less fun in an educational setting. About a month into the semester, the thing he wanted least, happened.

“Rafe Cameron...and…” Their professor trailed off, scanning around the room to find him a partner for the timed debate. Sophie kept her eyes trained on the doodles in the margin of her notebook, only halfway paying attention as she added another. She had been chosen once at the beginning of the semester and briefly entertained the short debate, something trivial about reality TV, but was left disappointed by her partner’s lackluster effort. “Sophie Flint!”

At the mention of her name, her head snapped up, caught off guard. “Hm?”

“You’ll be debating Mr. Cameron, here. Come up to the podiums please.” Their professor instructed.

She sighed under her breath and rose from her seat as Rafe did the same, both of them standing at the podiums at the front of the classroom. Sophie laced her fingers behind her back, lifting her chin slightly to acknowledge Rafe. He just smirked. Asshole.

“Alright, you two know the rules, keep it civil. Five minutes.” Their professor glanced down at her list of topics. “You’ll be debating...ah. Should golf be a sport or not? I’ll let you pick your sides -”

They spoke at the same time.

“Of course it should.”

“God, no.”

She held back an amused smile. “Alright. Carry on.”

Sophie nodded curtly, then turned slightly toward Rafe, stating her position. “Golf courses are an absolute waste of real estate.”

“Hold up - Professor Welch, are we talking about the sport or the course?” Rafe interrupted the debate, annoyed as he tugged at his cap.

Their professor just shrugged.

“Well you can’t have the sport without a course. Unless you want to play completely in the rough, which, with your skill level, you probably -”

“Ms. Flint.” Professor Welch warned.

Sophie barely held back a smirk. “Right. Anyways, courses are about 100, 200 acres on average? And say there’s at least 32,000 courses in the world. So by that standard…” she paused for a moment, doing the mental math. “You have roughly four and a half million acres of land occupied by golf courses.”

Rafe raised his eyebrows, curling his fingers around the edge of the podium as he leaned slightly toward her. “I don’t see an issue with that. Golf is a valuable, fairly low-impact sport that provides an outlet for many. It’s accessible even past retirement, so it’s a sport that grows with you.”

“Except the sport is classist. It’s expensive and typically located near neighborhoods that at least have a middle-class income. It’s only accessible past retirement if you have the option to retire, or if you retire with enough spare change to keep up the hobby.” She explained, almost seeming bored. “Not to mention, golf courses are destroying the environment.”

“No they’re not.” He shot back.

She raised her eyebrows at the meager comeback. “They are. What’s the one thing you need the most to keep the fairways groomed?”

Rafe thought for a moment. “Water. But you can just use rainwater -”

“Great, except most courses don’t.” She interrupted, rolling on. “It’s a huge waste of resources just to water the grass, instead of using that land for farming or preserving the biodiversity of the area.”

“Thirty seconds.” Their professor chimed in, keeping an eye on her watch.

Rafe hurried to make his point, knowing he was losing the debate by miles, but Sophie cut him off before he could even speak. “Not to mention, circling back to the sport being elitist, most courses require a country club membership to even play a round -”

“You belong to a country club, Flint, that’s hardly a leg you can stand on.” Rafe interjected just as their professor called time, a broad smirk tugging at his lips as he sensed Sophie’s frustration at not getting the last word.

“Enlightening.” Professor Welch turned back to the class. “Show of hands, who won?” The majority of the class voted for Sophie, only a few frat boys raising their hands in support for Rafe. The bell rang and their professor nodded as the class started to pack up and shuffle out. “Right then, don’t forget to read chapters three and four this weekend!”

Sophie just rolled her eyes at Rafe’s smirk and grabbed her backpack, starting off down the hallway with a satisfied smirk of her own. Sure, he might have gotten the last dig, but she clearly had a stronger argument.

“Sophie!” She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know it was Rafe calling out after her. “Flint!” She ignored him again as he jogged to catch up until she felt his large hand grip her arm. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

She yanked her arm out of his grip but turned around anyways. “Get your hands off - oh.” She mumbled the last word as she saw her phone clutched in his hand.

“Chill out, you just left this behind.” Rafe offered it to her and she took it, giving him a short smile.

“Right. Thanks.”

“Hey, um. You did good, I didn’t know all that stuff.” He tried, offering her a rare compliment.

“It’s well.” She corrected before she could stop herself.

“Huh?”

“Well. I did well, not good.” The second it left her mouth, she regretted it.

Rafe scowled slightly at the correction. “Whatever. See you next class.” He headed off, shaking his head. She stood there for a moment, watching him go and silently cursed herself in her head. Would it be that difficult to accept the compliment?

_________

“You need to get over yourself and just go say hi.” Sophie’s friend and roommate, Julia, interrupted her train of thought as Sophie was completely zoned out later that night, staring across the bar at Rafe. He wasn’t even doing anything remotely interesting, just talking with his friends and drinking the Wednesday special dollar beers, but there was something about the backwards cap - that damn backwards cap - that did it for her.

Sophie shook her head absently, taking a moment until she redirected her gaze. “Huh?”

Her other roommate, Allie, shook her head with a smile at Sophie’s delayed reaction.

“Oh my god.” Julia snapped in front of her face to get her attention. “Look, if you’re not going to make a move, can I?”

“Can you - what? With Rafe? Rafe Cameron? Like, my Rafe?” Sophie stuttered, slightly in shock. “Why?”

“Have you seen him? He’s cute. And he’s always been nice at parties. I need a date for the Theta party this weekend, please?” Julia asked, shooting a glance over at Rafe. He caught her eye but his gaze shifted over to Sophie for a moment as he sent her a nod of acknowledgment and a raise of his glass.

“I - um, fine, yeah, whatever.” Sophie knocked back the rest of her drink as a final statement, not wanting the conversation to last any longer as she flushed just slightly under Rafe’s stare. “I’m getting more, do you guys want something?”

After a chorus of no’s from her friends, she pushed her way up to the bar alone. A few moments later, Rafe sidled up next to her, ordering a drink and leaning against the bar to face her. Sophie tried her best to ignore him, keeping her gaze trained on the glowing neon signs behind the bar.

“Not gonna say hi?” Rafe asked.

It took everything in her for Sophie not to roll her eyes as she turned slightly toward him. “Hi, Cameron. Are you free this Friday?”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Are you asking me out?”

That was enough to warrant an eyeroll. “No.” (She bit back the ‘no, stupid’ that threatened to roll off her tongue.) “My friend Julia doesn’t have a date for the Theta party. Are you down?”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” He turned as their drinks arrived, sliding enough cash across to cover both of them. “The taller one, right?”

Sophie tried to grab his cash back and cover her half before the bartender could take it, but she noticed too late. “Yes, the tall one. Here.” She shoved the $5 bill into Rafe’s hand. He just pushed it back into hers, taking her hand and closing it into a fist around the bill. “Rafe, I don’t want your money,” she tried again.

He grinned. “So you can cover me next time we go out, then. What’s Julia’s number?”

“Right.” She sighed and gestured for his phone. He handed it over easily. “Um, I don’t know it off the top of my head and they have my purse, but. Here’s mine and I’ll pass it on.” She typed her number into his phone quickly, saving her contact then handing it back.

Rafe nodded with an easy grin, hand lingering for a moment as he took back the phone. “Even better. See ya Friday, Soph.” He gently bumped his elbow against hers, hands full, before heading back to his crew. It wasn’t lost on Sophie that she was left standing there, again, without the last word.

taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23 @butgilinsky @taiter-tots

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markedforruin · 3 years

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The Forest Lawn Mill Mystery Prologue

So here’s a small thing I wrote with Jeffery Mason and Sage Wilkinson. Will it be continued? most likely. When? who knows lol

Reminder that Jeffery Mason as a character is solely owned by David Near, and I am in no way affiliated with him and this is just a fanwork. Nothing crazy. Go listen to his audios on youtube if you haven’t!

Story here:

It hadn’t been more than a few days since Sage had begun talking to the new kid at school.

He was kind of weird.

He had albinism but dyed his hair black, as if he didn’t stand out enough as is. Apparently he thought black hair combined with his extremely pale face would help him blend in, but he was already hanging out with the class goth so… Sage doubted that.

Maybe “hanging out” was an overstatement. They had been assigned a group project, and they talked a lot, but they hadn’t hung out outside of school hours. Maybe if they did, Sage would get to know Jeff better, and they could stop complaining about math class and talk about things they liked.

“So uh… Are you doing anything after classes?” Sage was so bad at making friends, but they had to try. Jeff seemed like a cool person after all.

“Why?” Jeff’s almost monotone voice broke through the silent school library.

“Because I was thinking maybe you’d wanna hang out more? We can come over to my place… You could meet Beetle?”

Jeff gave his classmate a sideways glare. “You got a pet beetle or something?”

“No! No, it's a horse! He’s a horse. His name is Beetle.”

Jeff chuckled a little, covering his mouth with a fist. “That’s the weirdest horse name I’ve heard of.” He admitted.

“But it’s not the worst! My parents own a riding school so we live on a huge farm property, and trust me, some folks have horses stabled there with even worse names.” Sage laughed, finding his phone to look up the site his parents had made.

“Here, look-” He shoved the phone in Jeff’s face, leaning all into him.

“What the fuck- Post Stallione? Like Post Malone?”

“yeah. He’s a fine horse but his name is…”

“That’s so fucking cringe, Sage.”

“I know!”

They had a small laugh, but fell silent again quickly.

“So… Is that a yes, or?”

Jeff sighed audibly and loudly.

“I don’t know.” Was his reply. Sage thought he wasn’t going to say more, but he released a breath and opened his mouth again.

“We’re still missing some furniture at my house, and I don’t think my dad would like you, so… Fine. Fine. I need a fucking break from that house anyways…” He mumbled that last part.

“Is your dad homophobic?” Sage tapped their pencil on the paper. The numbers were swimming around on the page, and they’d resorted to doodling their horse instead of doing math.

“Honestly I think he’s just ignorant, but he’s real fucking annoying about it. Barely knows what a transgender person is, let alone someone like you.”

Sage turned to look at Jeff, and the boy looked back.

“Because I’m nonbinary?”

“yeah.”

Sage huffed mockingly. “When I meet him-”

“IF.”

“WHEN I meet him, I’ll look him in the eye and say “Nice to meet you ma’am, you must be the housewife! you’ve birthed a fine young son, i am glad to be his friend.””

That had Jeff laughing, and Sage joined in.

“I’m not opposed to mocking my dad, that’s for sure!”

“And I’m not above kicking down the ego of dads like yours.” Sage bowed dramatically.

“Alright, alright, I’ll come home with you, then. You’re fucking hilarious, Sage.”

Sage clicked their tongue. “Thank you, I know I gave a stellar performance.”

Fastest way out of Forest Lawn was the school bus, which meant they were surrounded by lots of noisy teenagers.

Both of them wore their earbuds to drown it all out. Sage leaned over to look at Jeff’s phone.

The boy leaned away clearly not wanting to share his screen.

“What are you listening to?”

“Nothing you’d like.”

“Try me.”

Jeff offered an earbud in silence.

What came out the other end was… Oh hey! Emperor!

“Oh symphonic black metal… Good taste dude.”

Jeff looked back at Sage with almost googly eyes.

“That’s new.”

“What, somebody liking the same music as you? Dude I listen to metal too, look at me!”

“I’ve been looking at you since we were assigned that group project, Sage.”

“So?” Sage snatched Jeff’s phone to add some music to his playlist.

Jeff shrugged, and let Sage take over his phone on his watch.

Their stop was the very last, and as they hopped out, the only things around them were trees and gravel paths.

“It’s not far from here, just gotta go up this way.”

Jeff followed along silently, not protesting.

“What do you think about Forest Lawn so far?” Sage looked back at Jeff.

“You want an honest answer?”

“Yeah, I live right outside the town, I don’t care what you think of it.”

“It’s fucking horrible, honestly. I hate this town.”

Sage nodded thoughtfully.

They made it to the main driveway, and the Wilkinson’s riding school property slowly came to light.

“People say the town is cursed, y’know.” Sage unlocked the main door and waltzed inside.

“I’m not superstitious. Also where’s your parents?”

It was a bit too quiet in the house.

“They’re working until 8 pm, and also they’re both very superstitious so they’ve told me a lot of stuff about the town.”

Sage led Jeff upstairs to their room and threw the school bag they’d carried on the floor next to his desk.

They motioned for Jeff to sit on the bed. It was pretty big, so Sage joined him.

“Ok, spit it out, tell me.” Jeff seemed pretty eager to know about all this.

Sage cracked his knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

They both got comfortable, and then Sage began.

“People talk about Teenagers and young adults being brainwashed by radio static, and children keep reporting this “man in the woods”, also there’s rumors floating around about the abandoned Mill close to here… It’s complicated. Around 30 years ago Forest Lawn saw the biggest disappearance of children ever over the summer. None of them were found, until 5 years ago, when one single naked woman was found passed out on the highway with her leg torn open. Her DNA showed that she was literally one of the children that had gone missing.”

Jeff intently listened, not a noise escaping him as Sage told their story.

“She’s still in psychiatric care at Pinehearst State hospital. Last update the public got from her was that she was adamant about some “tall man” that took care of everyone, which is the exact same thing children are saying today too.”

Sage paused for a moment.

“The Mill, though? man that’s a crazy story. It’s locked up and apparently age old paint on it from like… the 1800’s that says “plague, stay out” was painted on. It’s kind of close to here but I’ve never visited because you can’t get there by car, and going on horseback is at least a whole day’s trip.”

“I wanna see that mill, are you serious!?” Jeff was officially invested.

“What if there are dead bodies in there or something, dude? no way!”

“Uh, yes way, you didn’t strike me as a coward.”

“Group pressure doesn’t work on me Jeff.”

“Group pr- we’re two people, man.”

Sage crossed his arms. “I bet you don’t even know how to ride a horse.”

Jeff shot back at him. “Fine, then teach me.”

#jeff the killer #jeffery mason #sage wilkinson #creepypasta #the morgue files #david near #creepypasta fanfiction #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta fic #sage is nonbinary and uses they/them mainly but sometimes he/him

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soundofseventeen · 4 years

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Cupid’s Chokehold (Kwon Soonyoung)

Hi, I’m excited for this one!!!! I haven’t written anything this good for Hoshi since 7 Things, so here we are!!! I hope y’all like it!!!!!

Inspo: Cupid’s Chokehold

Word count: 6910

Relationship fourteen: met at an amusement park where he hit on the person operating a ride; ended over Soonyoung being 10 minutes late to a date. Time together: Three days short of a four month relationship.

Relationship fifteen: met at one of the shopping malls when he was ordering a juice at the food court; ended over Soonyoung racing to keep you company when your date stood you up at a coffee shop. Time together: 24 days.

Relationship sixteen:

“Guys, guys, guys, meet my girlfriend!”

In the split second that you looked up from the Superstar Pledis game, you lost your momentum, missed one of the notes, and lost any hope that you could beat the high score challenge, so you just hoped that Soonyoung’s latest fling would be worth losing this. Okay you were exaggerating a little but in your defense you needed all the RP points to help upgrade one of your better cards. You let yourself fail the game and looked up again with a smile on your face.

“Hi!” Mingyu said brightly, beating you to the punchline and pushing your legs off his lap to stand up and introduce himself better. He took one of her hands in both of his and shook it eagerly. “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

You noted that while a little awkward, she didn’t look terrible. (Not that you were judging, but a lot of Soonyoung’s….past loves weren’t always the nicest.You’re looking at relationships three, six and seven here.)

“You must be Y/N. Soonie talks about you all the time.”

Soonie.

It took all your self control to not wrinkle your nose in disdain. Literally, every one of his exes called him that, so naturally you hated it. Okay not hated, but it made you wonder if the nickname held some kind of curse because not one relationship succeeded.

“The one and only.” You did however, squint your eyes at her, not recognizing her. “I’m sorry I don’t think we met.”

“I’m Aiko. I work at the vet where Soonie occasionally brings his dog in.”

Ah, no wonder he’s been bugging Seungcheol about his newest love and taking Kkooma out. You opted to stay quiet and not bust your best friend. Yet. He would eventually bust himself. But you had to admit that you were impressed with how often he changed parts of his persona...at least when you didn’t have to scold him how it wasn’t necessary and that the right person would adore him the way he was.

But, you still had to give her the credit where it was due. “Awww. Which is your favorite pet that’s been by?”

“Definitely the bunnies. We have some clients that own a rabbit farm so we see them a lot.”

“I love bunnies!” Your lips formed a pout, almost crying at the state of fluffy tails and funky teeth biting into the vegetables clouded your thoughts. You snuck a peek at Soonyoung who had hesitantly pulled a thumbs up sign and you gave him the smallest of nods which was the biggest sign for Soonyoung to start smiling widely and that little crack in your heart to split open again.

They didn’t stay much longer; Soonyoung literally just ran to his room to change clothes and grab his charger so no one really had the chance to talk to Aika other than the basics to avoid the awkward silence.

You had long ago stopped crying over Soonyoung seeing past you and going for another person but that didn’t mean the pain lessened. (thank you relationship number four.) You were always “my bestest friend in the entire world” or “my platonic soulmate who knows me better than anyone”, never more and you hated it. You just wanted to one day be someone he saw in a different light or at least find one who was like you. Maybe that would hurt less.

But maybe you were just happy that you didn’t lose sleep over him like you used to or wept into the armrest of your couch watching reruns of the shows you binged watched together.There was some normalcy back in your life but the pain still somehow managed to hit you as hard as it did the first time Soonyoung brought someone around you.

“No, you dumbass! She’s right there!” You angrily flicked your hand at your phone screen in front of you. Okay, maybe you figured that if you experienced this in real life (as you had many, many times) you realized that even if the person Hoshi ended up with someone who was exactly like you, it’d be a blow to your heart and you weren’t sure how you’d react to that.

“No, don’t go with her...don’t you dare take another….okay, fine ignore me. But don’t come crying to me when you fuck it up.” You really needed to stop watching these movies. Yes, you always knew how it ended, but that didn’t mean your anger wasn’t real. And you just kinda highkey wished it’d happen to you.

“Please stop yelling at your phone and get out of this car before I forcibly take it from you,” Soonyoung threatened.

“You were the one who wanted to come with me to wash my clothes so you’re doing everything at my pace and I swear if you break-”

“Slow down baby...you’re goin’ too fast baby!”

You smacked him. “Listen, if you don’t want all of South Korea to know you’re here, keep your voice down.”

He clicked a finger gun in your direction and slid out the driver’s side. “Gotcha. But seriously speaking, are you sure that you don’t mind that I invited Aika to hang out with us later?”

“I mean, I have to get to know her eventually, right?” You smiled a little at him. It had been a couple days since the initial introduction but you didn’t know anything else besides the obvious, and her lack of social media posts didn’t help. (You may have stalked her a little.) You finally unbuckled your seatbelt and slid your phone back into your pocket to bring two carts for your dirty laundry.

If it had been up to you, you would’ve come to the laundromat by yourself just have some time for yourself. Being around Seventeen nearly 24/7 took a lot of energy from you, but not in a bad way; you just liked having peace and quiet sometimes. But Soonyoung took it upon himself to use one of his only days off to accompany you and spend the morning with you. He even went as far as bringing breakfast to wake you up.

He helped you with the detergent and softeners and other essentials because you would’ve been mortified at the thought of him taking your dirty clothes. You werent sure why but you didnt like the thought of him touching anything. He whistled some Shinee song as he walked inside, already knowing which spot you liked. But before you could actually start loading the washing machines, you needed to reload your card because this particular laundromat didn’t use coins anymore.

You could feel your phone calling out to you to resume your watching and you were tempted to but you needed to do all this first. You took your money out the wallet and topped up the balance and once the washing machines were ready to go, you sat down at one of the tables, your finger itching to hit the play button and proceeded to ignore the rest of the world.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed but you were vaguely aware of Soonyoung disappearing for a moment and returning with the bag of breakfast, sliding a disposable tray to you and setting down a carton of juice. Then he quietly brought out a notebook and doodled on it. Your favorite thing about Soonyoung? He knew when you didn’t wanna be bothered, so he often found ways to entertain himself. Sometimes he watched his own thing; sometimes he read one of Wonwoo’s recommendations; and sometimes he worked on choreo. When it got too silent for his liking, he FaceTimed Chan so he could see exactly what he was working with and any adjustments that could be made.

“Tell the future of kpop I said hey,” you said absently, taking one of the pre-sliced waffles and biting into it. The plot in front of you had progressed drastically, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to stop watching or keep it going because every move and every word hurt your heart.

“You tell him! Okay Dino, it looks good, but now try the spin counter clockwise. I wanna see how that looks.”

You stopped watching long enough to put it away and focus on Soonyoung as he went into choreographer mode. Though he was sitting, you watched the way his hands moved and if you stood up, you knew’d be seeing them trying to mirror each other’s actions.

“Hyung, what if we did this-” you could hear Chan’s heavy breathing with the way some nonexistent tempo increased and the way his sneakers squeaked on the floor. “-instead of..” More squeaking and you were pretty sure he had thrown himself on the floor. “This? And if we circle around I’m thinking maybe Mingyu hyung, it could work.”

Soonyoung clapped, bobbing...or probably counting in his head, most likely picturing whatever he saw Dino doing, and smiled brightly. “I like it! If we can saturate the movement a little more-” more hand movements and a couple of foot stomps, “- I think we can get him to pull it off.” He stood up, made sure he wasn’t disturbing anyone else and mimicked the younger boy’s action.

You nodded along, breaking out into your own smile at watching him. Your heart ached for him, but you knew you had to content yourself with how you were. You couldn’t risk losing him.

“I’m telling you Y/N, I think she could be the one,” Soonyoung sighed dreamily.

“So you’re telling me that because this woman makes you pancakes any time you visit her in the morning, she’s made for you?” you stared off into space, making a confused face as to how in the world that could add up. “You don’t even like breakfast foods.”

“But when she makes them...oh my god. I even told my mom about her.”

You didn’t have it in you to tell him that not only did his mom video call you and shake her head at the proclamation, but she also expressed her worry about him jumping into a new relationship every time he came home with a broken heart and how one day, he wouldn’t be able to go back to himself. You understood her; since Seventeen’s debut, he had been in 15 different relationships, more than all the boys put together, none of which lasted longer than eight months. (Needless to say, you kept track.)

“You believe me, right?”

“Eat your ice cream Soonie.”

“You know it doesn’t even sound cute when you say it.” He wrinkled his nose at you. “Just for that, you’re paying for our dessert.” He pulled out his wallet and slid it out to you. “Go.”

You pulled out his credit card, frowning a little.

“What?”

“Nothing...it’s just don’t you keep a picture of Aiko in here?”

“Nah, I’m new school.”

“Didn’t you steal one of the boys’ phones the other day to complain to the phone company that yours stopped working?”

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault that I forgot that it was still updating. Shut up.”

You threw your head back and laughed before going to pay the nice lady for some of the best homemade treats you ever tasted. You patted Soonyoung’s head fondly, resisting the urge to wrap your arms around his neck and just hugging him for being so funny. Good thing too, because when the little bell dinged announcing a new arrival, the Japanese beauty came in and Soonyoung was up so fast, he nearly dropped the chair. He spoke animatedly, doing some kind of handshake you knew was only for them and then pointed to you, which you waved politely and pushed her your way.

“Always hyperactive, isn’t he?” she laughed when she joined you. “I told him I just had lunch but he swears the muffins are the best here. What do you think?”

“They’re good if you have a sweet tooth, but I personally like the cookies.”

“I’ll have whatever you like then,” Aiko smiled at you. “I’m sorry if I’m awkward by the way. I’m nervous.”

“About? Hi, I’ll take some of those too, and then we’ll be ready to pay.”

“Soonie talks about you like you put the stars in the sky so I’m a little scared to say the wrong thing.” Not the first time you heard that, but you heard it with relationship number 10 (you think.)

“Honestly, just treat him right, and we’ll be okay.” She didn’t have to know how unlucky Soonyoung was...the cheaters, the manipulators, the insecure ones who swore you were stealing him away, the ones who wanted him for his fame and/or fortune and even a couple who only used him to get to you. Every single one ended up with him at your house in the middle of the night and the cheap takeout place that delivered at any hour seemed to be his only cure. Most of the time he didn’t go home and called the leader to say he wouldn’t be going to work the next day. Some days, he used the time to go to the beach or out of town, but sometimes he liked staying in and watching movies...both of which included you.

“Okay.” She received the bag of sweets from the old lady and skipped back to her boyfriend who placed his hand on her hair and kissed it and then gave you two thumbs up. That was your cue to leave, despite him insisting you stay but you really needed to put your laundry away before you decided to leave it by your entrance until it was time to wash again. (Or so you reasoned with yourself to not interrupt them.) Aiko seemed to be the best one for Soonyoung so far, and while it still killed you to see him with someone else, at least she was nice about things. You slipped out, noticed only by your best friend who looked betrayed at you leaving but you texted him your excuse.

It did, however, surprise you when you opened your front door and you cried all over again, the bitter tears stinging for feeling like a bad person for not wanting it to go as well as it was.

“Special delivery!” you cried out to the boys at Pledis in their practice room a month later. “I’ve got some things for my favorite boys.” Comeback season always proved to be more strenuous than the last and you hated how little you saw of them. In their earlier days, you would’ve seen at least one of them roaming Seoul, but alas.

“You’re a lifesaver!” Hansol took one of the plastic bags from you and dug through it, frowning when that one didn’t hold what he was looking for.

“I never said these were for you. I was talking about Nu’est.” (Dongho had taken your treats to his group mates though, but they didn’t need to know that.) However, you handed him the correct bag and he pulled out a small bag of M&Ms, yelling triumphantly and they took turns searching for their requested items.

“Where’s Tiger Brain?” you asked, looking around. He had originally asked you to bring him another pair of sweats because he had ripped them. Again. They currently hung over your arm while you picked the lint off of them.

“Recording studio.” Jihoon opened his can of Coke and somehow managed to drink the whole thing in a single chug. Impressive if not concerning.

“Why?” You counted 12 heads, three different times. No one else was missing.

“Aiko’s here and she looks pissed.” Junhui then stuffed his face with the lunch you brought for him, in case he had said too much.

“I haven’t done anything!” Your reflexive defense whenever things had gotten rocky for the lovebird in paradise. Always true, but no one ever seemed to believe you until they had seen that you did indeed mind your business. This time was no different.

“We never said you did. Chill.”

“Do I need to go in and clarify something?”

“That might make it worse.” Minghao looked around to see if anyone would hear them. “When she asked for him, it was because she wanted to talk to him about his dog...or rather Cheol’s dog.”

So she found out. “It isn’t something to be mad over.” You had known people who did that, but no one ever had to stop working in the middle of the day over it.

“When i went to ask him for the notebook with the new dance, she was telling him about the phone call he had with you.”

“Which one?” Now you could feel the annoyance tingling at your fingertips. You always called him and he you, none of which were ever important. The most recent one being him calling you at 2:33 last night (er this morning) when he asked if he should dye his hair red or green or maybe yellow….to which you yelled at him for waking you up. But how did she know about that one? For one moment you wondered if she found a way to bug your phone...it happened in relationship number five. Creepy and unsettling and the paranoia still hadn’t left you.

“I guess she saw you the other day shopping for groceries-”

“You know, sometimes my stomach likes to remind me that I need to be fed. Just a crazy thought.”

Minghao pointed at you dramatically. “This is my story time, peasant.” He waited for you to close your mouth again. “Now, I don’t know what the gist was but apparently you saw her and said something about going to the beach with him.”

Classic word twisting...relationships one through now apparently. “Yeah, we were thinking that after this comeback that we wanted to take everyone out because, you know, you all work hard and don’t take any breaks.” Originally, it had been just for you two, then Seungcheol and Jihoon had cut into the conversation, wanting Soonyoung’s opinion for something they wrote, and from there, Soonyoung said something about a leader line getaway with you, and then Wonwoo’s voice sounded and before you knew it, bam...beach day with OT13. You had a run in with her around that time and you talked about it, but she didn’t seem bothered by it. But you had felt sick now about it, so you smiled and handed the sweats over to one of the boys and decided to go home before you got caught here. On your way out, you picked up a few wrappers that they managed to throw on the floor and went to throw them away when you saw a stack of burned pancakes inside.

“Aiko brings him breakfast some mornings but when she’s in a bad mood, she burns them,” Joshua said quietly dumping his own trash in there. “It’s been happening a lot.”

You said nothing. The one thing about Soonyoung’s relationships you didn’t keep track of? How many of them felt threatened by you near the end. You had lost count.

The time on your phone displayed 12:46 am when someone knocked on your door and Soonyoung’s I’m outside text followed shortly after. You sighed a deep sigh, one that came from your tired soul because you knew this was coming and you could feel the beginning of end. The end being your patience hollowing before you expressed how tired you were of his stupidity and possibly ruined your friendship.

“Let’s go out tomorrow,” he said as his greeting. “I feel like we haven’t done anything together lately.”

“Comeback season, remember?” You wanted to shake your head at him, noticing the way he was wired up and in the way you wanted see him

“But that’s not really an excuse to ditch you. My treat.” He smiled at you hopefully, pleading for you to say yes so you nodded.

You picked up your phone, ready to place an order on the familiar app. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes! I thought you’d never ask!”

In the middle of his kimchi soup dinner, he spilled everything, not even looking at you as he told you everything you missed. You didn’t bring up being at Pledis or seeing the spoiled food, and you could tell he was grateful.

“Hey Y/N?”

“What?”

“Is there something wrong with me?”

You wanted to joke about the infinite number of things just to make him smile, but in his vulnerable state, you couldn’t, just because you knew how he’d take it to heart. (You’ve learned from that mistake.) You just shook your head. “You’re human.” He nodded slowly, trying to enjoy his dinner, but slurping but slurping the noodles so slowly. You sighed.

Relationship ended over: Jealousy and insecurity. Time together: two months, two weeks.

Relationship seventeen: Soonyoung accompanied Jeonghan to get a car fixed and flirted with the secretary; ended over the secretary accusing Jeonghan of trying to scam the company when you somehow got involved saying you had saved some receipts; time together: 43 days.

Relationship eighteen: attempted to rekindle something with your neighbor across the street; ended over the neighbor being engaged; time together: 0 days

Relationship nineteen: befriended a tourist and offered himself to show off the sites and best places to visit. (No mention of you, but details); ended when the tourist had to go back home but the pair promised to remain friends; time together 20 days

Relationship twenty:

“You’re in my seat.”

You looked up at the stranger confused, the fluorescents of Pledis lights blinding you momentarily. “I’m sorry, I always sit here. I’m waiting for my friends to get here-” You blinked, trying to adjust to the lighting.

“Bongcha, you’re here!” Though the voice was very familiar, you were very confused when Soonyoung dashed by you and ran to the stranger….Bongcha, you assumed her name was, and hugged her. “It’s so good to see you!” he turned to you. “Hey you! I wasn’t expecting to see you today!” He made this grand hand gesture to the person he was talking to, not even wondering why you were here this early. “This is Bongcha! She’s my girlfriend. Bongcha, this is the spectacular, marvelous, beautiful, wonderful, talented, amazing-”

“Are you gonna get to the point soon or are you just gonna waste your breath?” Mini tour season, you guessed? He was only ever this hyped up whenever someone told him they were going to sing their hearts out.

“Y/N,” he finished. “My best friend in the whole entire world that I adore to bits even when I’m treated like this.”

Bongcha nodded at you once she looked you over, but didn’t say much else. “I was waiting to see if you’re done with rehearsals so we can go have dinner.”

Okay, she wasn’t gonna acknowledge your presence, which you were fine with. You weren’t here to see her, or even Soonyoung, really. But dinner already? It was still somewhere between the breakfast/lunch area. Whatever though. “Do you know if Seokmin is done with whatever you’re doing?” you asked him instead.

His mouth formed an ‘o’. “You’re finally gonna take my advice and one of my friends? I like it.”

“Gross, no. He wanted to know if he could tag along with me to the eye doctor and I said I’d meet him here.”

“But you didn’t ask me?” He looked hurt, despite the fact his girlfriend was there, clinging to his arm, ready to pull away when she heard enough.

“Our appointments are literally back to back. You’re not missing much. I’ll see you later though?”

“Okay, yeah...ye-whoa. I’ll see you later then. You’re really strong Bongcha.”

As it turned out...you needed a stronger pair of glasses, but so did Seokmin so it wasn’t a complete loss. He treated you (after looking offended at the thought of you paying your meal) to a McDonald’s lunch, raving about the time he and Wonwoo accidentally broke one of the soda machines during their predebut days and then dove into a different topic how they were hitting the road again soon just to blow off some steam and he was excited but he was gonna miss you, because he always felt like he saw you the least, so you offered to go shopping for some friendship bracelets so he wouldn’t be alone and the big baby really broke out into his big grin at the thought and ushered you out the door before you request dessert. If only your heart could want Seokmin the way it wanted Soonyoung.

Bongcha, huh?

Seventeen being gone meant that you could catch up (and even get ahead in some cases) on everything you neglected during your free time. Sometimes you wondered how you still had a job because of how easily you dropped it for them, but some mysteries didn’t need to be solved.

You stocked up on groceries and snacks, and even bought yourself new bedsheets to change the theme in your room, nearly deciding to redecorate the entire place with a sudden burst of inspiration. You nulled the idea when you realized just how much effort it’d actually take, but you did compromise on silverware….and maybe even plates but nothing too crazy.

You managed to spy Bongcha at the post office once, but she deliberately looked away before you could wave, and normally you’d be hurt about it, but there was no way that whatever she had with Soonyoung could last. You could attest to all the rude ones but it wasn’t worth telling Soonyoung about it. It’s not that he wouldn’t believe you, but he’d confront her, and then take you both somewhere to “work out your differences” and he wouldn’t leave you alone until you swore you were friends now. No thank you.

Most of the time when he called you, he let you in on the details of the small tour like who messed up the lyrics (he was looking at Seungcheol here), or how Seungkwan deciding to play marco polo in the pool and accidentally scared one of the kids when Jun pulled his leg underwater. You loved their antics and sometimes you wished you could take them up on the offer and go on tour with them at least once, but you needed your space from them. And before you knew it, they were finally done and they’d be back.

“Y/N, it could be her. I can feel it.”

Even in your sleepy haze, you could hear the ridiculousness at how he sounded. You paused the FaceTime call, clock letting you know it was 3:17 am and Seventeen was just getting home from the home country tour but he wanted to stop by her house first to surprise her. He had been giving you shit about always going to the first and last concerts but never more unless you had the money for it, but nonetheless letting you know the basics that happened, but now he was letting you know that he was serious about Bongcha. “Oh god.”

“I mean it. Like I talked to my dad about her and I wanna take her to home so she can meet them once we can go on vacation. You should hear the way she says my name.”

“Oh Soonie, you’re so cute. Oh Soonie, you’re the best. Oh Soonie…” you actually had to stop yourself from gagging. That nickname would be the death of you.

“You know, it’s still not cute when you say it. I don’t know why, but I don’t like it. So just for that, you’re buying me lunch when I-” The phone clattered to the floor and you woke up finally at being dropped.

“Hosh?” Nothing. “Soonyoung?” And then you saw a brief flash of light, and then you could see the denim and you lost vision so you could assume Soonyoung threw you in his pants….or shorts….whatever.

“What is this?!” You could finally hear him. “Who the fuck is this?!”

Oh shit….that was gonna be awkward. “Soonyoung?” Not like he could hear you but still worth a shot. “Hey, are you okay?” A deeper, unfamiliar voice spoke up, probably answering his question but still sounding muffled. You pressed the speaker as close to your ear as possible, straining to hear anything. “Soonyoung, don’t do anything stupid.” You could hear his deep breaths.

“I...you...and this...you’re joking right? This...it hasn’t been happening right?” The way he struggled to keep his composure broke you and you just wished you could find the humor in how he spoke, so bright and so happy, the denial. “It has? Okay, well...have a nice life. Just delete my number. And you...I could so kick your ass right now. No, don’t get up.”

“SOONYOUNG!” you yelled when you heard something break and a door slam.

“Change of plans Y/N, I’m coming over.�� He offered no other explanation and hung up on you.

“Is there something wrong with me?” The question you always hated to answer and with every heartbreak just made you wanna lock in his house somewhere and not leave until he didn’t have a rebound. He’s had cheating girlfriends before, but this was the first time he saw it with his own eyes, and it was different in a sense.

Nonetheless, you were honest. “It wasn’t your fault, you know. Some people can’t stay committed.” You wanted to reach over and take his hand in yours, seep out all his pain and carry it with you, but you stayed put. He stared at his bowl of soup, not even bothering to eat it. Your own food remained untouched too, no doubt more cold than warm already.

Soonyoung finally put his face in his hands. “What’s wrong with me Y/N? Why can’t I ever find someone who stays?”

“Do you ever think that maybe you jump into a relationship too fast without even thinking?”

“No...I always make sure I’m over someone.”

“Twenty relationships since debut isn’t normal Soonyoung.” He raised his head to look at you, tears ready to spill out in case you said something to push him over the edge, but didn’t say anything, listening, waiting. “I think that maybe after your breakup, you come to me and then you’re here with me, and then a couple days later, it’s like you bounce back and repeat the cycle.”

“Where the hell did you get 20?” he asked, but didn’t let you explain yourself. “Where did I meet 20 people that have somehow made me their boyfriend?”

“It’s just that...every time someone new comes into your life….you just go so into...and I don’t know...you swear they’ve become some part of your life and you look so happy….I don’t know. Twenty.”

“Do you really think that of me? Do you really think that I’m like that?”

“Soonyoung, it’s almost four in the morning; you literally came to me because your ex-girlfriend is cheating on you. You have done this every single time in the past. You just called Cheol to let him know you’re not going in tomorrow because you’re staying here. I’m sorry, but did you even ask?” you realized he never did; he just assumed you’d let him every time and you have. “Later this week, you’re gonna on your own doing who knows what because it’s all too much for you and you’re gonna meet someone. You’re gonna get to them, tell me about it and then it goes wrong.”

“It’s not 20. Hell, it’s not even 10. Am I that desperate to fill a void in my heart? But even if it was, why the hell are you counting who comes into my life?”

“Because I care! I hate seeing you like this. I can’t stand you-”

“Okay, I’m gone.” He stood up abruptly. “I won’t come back next time.” He pulled out his wallet, took out a few bills and tossed them on the couch. “Here. I’m so sorry I ruined dinner, but I hope this makes up for it.”

“Where are you going? Take your money; I don’t want it.”

“I’m going to my dorm because apparently no one cares how I feel when I’m there. Good night.”

Relationship twenty (not twenty?): ended over a cheater; time together: three months; additional comments: thank you Bongcha for this fight. You just lost your best friend.

Much like Soonyoung’s relationships, you counted the days since Soonyoung stopped speaking to you. It’s been 87 days. Your texts and calls went unanswered and the boys pretty much made excuses about Soonyoung not being able to come to the phone when you called them. It didn’t matter; it was fine. You loved being ignored anyways. You didn’t need him; that's why you had your kdramas to get you through the heartache. At least things could work out in a fictional universe.

Still you cursed yourself for ending up at Pledis and signing in at the front because apparently your pride wasn’t gonna let you have this. You waved to Hyerin who was discussing a possible collab with Beomju, but neither saw you, so you went on your way to find anyone of the 13 boys who could help you. Your first stop was the recording section with Jihoon playing producer and Jeonghan behind the mic. Joshua was in the corner showing Seokmin how to play the song he liked and Seungkwan occasionally sang the lyrics to “I HATE YOU” but everyone stopped everything when you opened the door. Although sudden, none of them seemed surprised to see you, but annoyed at being interrupted.

“Where’s Soonyoung? I need to talk to him. Please don’t tell me he isn’t here.” Your voice sounded tired, and if you heard any type of rejection, you were sure to cry.

“Practice room,” Jihoon said at last, lips pursed, ready to tell you more but thought against it. “It’s a unit day practice so he’s probably showing them a new routine.” He turned his attention back to Jeonghan. “Sorry Hyung. Take it from the top please.”

Seokmin flashed you a quick thumbs up before handing the guitar to Joshua and you just hoped he’d be there. You ran into Vernon on your way over, showing you some parts of the latest rap, and you just accepted the bad omen. Because really, what could be worse than him saying “goodbye”? At least he treated you as if it wasn’t the last time he was gonna see you, but you weren’t sure if that was a good thing and then he disappeared into the room with the vocal unit practiced.

You took a deep breath when you arrived, preparing for the worst, and you knocked gently. You waited a few seconds then you opened the door and were immediately greeted with loud music. Chan and Minghao were stretching on the floor, laughing at some joke and Junhui wiped the sweat from his face. They weren’t surprised to see you either, but now you wanted to know who spilled that you were here because it hadn’t even been five minutes, according to your phone, but man it felt longer than that. The three wordlessly pointed to the furthest corner where Soonyoung chugged a bottle of water in record time.

“Hyung?” Chan called out and he reflexively turned around. “You have a visitor.”

He nodded and the boys dispersed pretty quickly, leaving only the awkward silence, tension and more distance between you than you would’ve liked. You took his sweet time coming to you, making you more nervous by the second. He normally ran up to you as if you had been gone for years and he couldn’t wait to be at arm’s length. You just wanted him to return to normal, or even just run you out of his life already. You couldn’t handle this anymore. By the time he reached you, you wanted him to stay faraway from you. Your hands clammed up and the fight or flight response kicked.

“It hasn’t been 20 relationships,” he said quietly. “It hasn’t even been half, probably half of those at most.” he kicked at the floor. “God why would you even think that? Why couldn’t you ever think I missed you after a long day?”

“You were never at my door unless you wanted to forget someone.”

“Do you think it‘s easy to forget you? Did you ever think that there wasn’t anyone else I wanted to be with, relationship or not? Finding you in everyone was exhausting. Okay, maybe a few of them did get past the whole, ‘maybe-I-can-get-over-Y/N’ phase, but, it’s hard.”

“No, don’t do that.” you shook your head, not quite believing what you were hearing.

“You’re my best friend Y/N. I hate everything we’ve come to because I can’t think straight. Okay yeah, maybe every time something finishes, I think that maybe I can tell you, but then you’re here next to me, and I don’t wanna fuck it up. Did you know I had a dream one time where you had fallen in love with me but i didn’t notice because I was flirting with someone named Minseo and when you finally told me, i was already with her, but you told me in a letter and I told you to get out of my life?”

“Soonyoung, who would be stupid enough to do that? Of all things someone can do.” And then you smacked him. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner? Do you know much we could’ve avoided. I’ve kept track of all of them...everyone that hurt you, everyone you hurt, mutual fallouts, it’s all there. Why did you wait until all this happened?” You could feel yourself falling to the floor in relief.

“What do you mean why did I wait this long? I want to stay in your life even if you don’t feel that way about me.” He joined you on the floor. “I’m sorry for walking away the other night. But please tell me about shit like this because I can tell you how many girlfriends I’ve had. But that was my bad too…” he rambled off.

“I’m sorry for accusing you,” you stared at his shoes, your shoes. He wanted his shoe to nudge yours; you could see it; you wanted him to do it too. “You’re not exactly easy to forget either. I guess I forget that you’re a big part of my life and not having you around,” you took a deep breath, “it hurts. But I want you to be happy with your life choices and who you end up with, even if it isn’t with me.”

Soonyoung nodded, not really quite sure what to do with the information. He stayed quiet though, sliding closer to you until your shoulders were touching and he finally bumped his shoe with yours. He stared at his reflection, then yours, focusing on the way you stared at your feet bumping into each other. “Hey Y/N?”

You looked up at him shyly, and you could swear you heard his heartbeat picking up. “Yeah?” He caressed your cheek gingerly and tilted your chin up to meet his maze and pressed a soft kiss to your lips

“Are you still there?”

You waited a few seconds before you answered, a smile making its way across your face. “Yeah.”

“Okay, good. What are you doing right now?”

“Eww, I think I liked it better when you guys weren’t dating.” Wonwoo. “At least you spared us these conversations.”

“Nothing since the last time you asked. I’m in the living room right now. Are you coming over today?”

“If you want me to. How’s Tigger?” You could hear him say something to Wonwoo and the other person there, most likely asking him about some color schemes.

“Down for his nap. I guess the shot tired him out, but I can at least get more things done.”

“Yeah, we adopted a cat and we named him Tigger; we got him earlier this week and we just took him to the vet this morning. Yeah, we’re painting the bathroom tomorrow. How much is the total?”

“Damn, move in already. You guys are gross. Wait, is that...Y/N guess what?!”

“What?” You jumped at being acknowledged suddenly. “I don’t need to go take him my credit card, do I?”

“No.”

The warm fuzzy feeling crept up into your insides. Somehow it had all come together after his years of heartache. His parents had been thrilled when they found out when you got together, and it seemed that the boys breathed collective sighs of relief at seeing you two, but nothing compared to what Wonwoo said next.

“He has a picture of you in his wallet and he carries it with him everywhere.”

232 notes · View notes

jackbabewang · 4 years

Text

Head over heels

Genre: Another nose bleeding ceo Jae, Fluff, Mature content

Word count: 5,818

Currently, in your mid-20s, studied for a degree in Administrative Assistant at a four-year college and working as a secretary in a major corporation. You have a good salary and excellent benefits, earning enough to rent an apartment of your own, but your workload may be more than you can realistically handle and no matter how motivated you are, it will be beyond the realms of human possibility.

Working with your superior, Jung Jaehyun, is more like a profession. There is always a sense of moral obligation to do more than the minimum laid down in the job description when the man himself works like a monster. You were prepared for the immense sacrifice as well had you accepted the offer. It was agreed.

With great reluctance, you have grown one hell of an addiction to caffeine, which is clear when you go without it for even one morning, like today. You feel foggy and crabby. None of the words seems to penetrate beyond your mind of half-conscious blank. The pen that is unfailingly in your hand, starting to draw elaborate doodles on a clean page in the notebook which is largely useless at this point.

Surprisingly, Jaehyun is not listening to the presenter as well. He has crossed and uncrossed his legs six times, peeked out the window eight times. His fingers plow through his hair, messing up the always-neat style he has probably struggled half the morning to achieve. The generality however appears to be interested in the object of the meeting, behaving orderly and attentive. Their intention is, of course, to impress their boss. However the man is probably scoffing inwardly at their obvious acts.

He is looking around, when out of the corner of his eye he caught movement. The strain on your face, your lips pressed tightly together, your body slumped almost sliding off the chair, as if your backbone has been pulled out through the top of your head. Amused, he brings his attention to what exactly you are struggling with and he sees your right foot: bared. Stretching on your toes, you try to snag your lone shoe but it is an inch out of your reach. And inside, you curse yourself to lose that annoying habit of swinging your feet.

He watches a moment more then drops his pen, letting it roll over. He bends and pretends to pick it up, catching you off guard as he picks up your shoe instead and holds it so you can slide your foot into it. You cannot quite comprehend of his gesture, and try not to think about it—even when his hand, lightly touching your ankle in turn, sent coils of heat twirling all the way up your leg and through your whole body. Nothing comparable to this has ever occurred which requires direct bodily contact with your boss, to be exact. You slightly choke on your own saliva, but refuse to look at him in the face, visibly embarrassed. In the meanwhile, Jaehyun glances at you the oftener, thus noticing your reaction of an interesting one.

Weeks have gone by, you never spoke of the incident, and he never brings up the subject either as though nothing ever happened, despite the tension that is sometimes evident in the way he watches you like he demands a “thank you” after the act and thinking you are a woman so ignorant, unmannered and … immodest. That thought troubles you more than the other, though.

Troubles always, somehow, never come to an end, never reach exhaustion; they are new every morning, one woman in particular is trouble herself—Park Sooyoung, the embodiment of your day-to-day horror. You have to admit, from head to toe, she is more beautiful than any female, including yourself in this workplace. She is gorgeous with a perfect figure and has all the attention of the men here, except for the one enclosed behind glass doors on the 45th floor. Mr. Jung, Jaehyun, is eye-candy extraordinaire. Or ‘sex on a stick’, which you overheard her conversation that day in the pantry.

The employee manual says, “Keep the dating scenes away”, as it is most likely to ruin the workplace or kill your career. She interpreted otherwise, eagerly looking for her dear ones. You do not understand her, her constant attendance at Jaehyun's office with a stack of papers which she claimed as her legitimate reason to meet the CEO. And every damn time, exercising intense self-control, you refrain yourself from laughing seeing her walk out a minute after with her ‘documents’ left untouched, indubitably not a single glance from the man.

Then you know you might be in trouble when the buzzer system, a companion to the intercom, alerts you with two buzzes to indicate that you are to come into Jaehyun’s office. Knocking twice as a courtesy and you enter after hearing his bid and shutting the door behind. You utter no word, make no sound as you cross the thick carpet. You know the instant you set foot in there is something about the air that gives you a bad feeling. The familiar prickle ripples over your scalp and spreads down your neck and shoulders. You gulp.

He stops, looks up, then back to the chaos on his desk. “Could’ve stopped her…” Phew!

“Yes, Mr. Jung. I should. Next time.” Your sentence breaks into phrase, phrase separates into words, you speak out like a robot, totally expressionless.

“No more next time, please.” He has never used the word before, rarely hear it from his lips, which sounds like an exasperating term because it shows the helplessness in him. “And put this away,” he orders, without lifting his head.

The bittersweet fragrance of coffee curls enticingly around your nose, the porcelain filled and still warm in your hand, whereas he has not even touched the beverage. Sooyoung needs to step up her game if she is ever so determined to get into his pants. Brown is the colour of the milky coffee that Jaehyun absolutely dislikes. He has them dark brew, no milk, no sugar, no creamer. You have tried it once and it tastes bad, it tastes awful as its poisonous-looking black. You switch the flat-out rejected beverage for the one to his liking and not so long after he finished with nothing left in the bottom of the cup.

He works all day, and you work all day. As the saying goes, “A good boss does not leave until after his last employee does.” But if it is the other way round, does that make you a good employee? Totally. The corporation has an extra busy month with the expansion to take all the business it can get. To demonstrate how busy it is, longer hours of work on the same day has been introduced. Even on a Sunday, you are with your friends having brunch when you receive a call to work where your boss has clearly heard the munching of food and clanking of silverware against China over the line. How sucks it is even when you have not drive today and given ten minutes to be there, you have to pay the additional for cab fare.

Inside, Jaehyun is leaning over his laptop and typing furiously. His fingers are almost a blur over that keyboard.

“Sorry, Mr. Jung. I’m—” you glance at your wristwatch, holding the tiny face of it between the fingers of your right hand and squinting, “—six minutes late. I was caught in a traffic jam.”

“It’s fine. Come sit.”

You do what he asks. You peek over his shoulder and see a screen full of words, you peer harder at the teeny-tiny letters and it takes a fraction of a second to realize he is doing your portion of work. Almost immediately you interrupt him, almost instantly you regret your harsh manner when he turns to you with eyes filling with confusion before his brows knit themselves together in concern.

“Move over,” his fingers wrap around your wrists, pulling your hands away from which you have shielded the brightness of the display.

“No, that’s my work. I should be responsible for it.”

“I don’t have time for this,” he warns.

You grumble right back, “Just this one, alright? And I’ll do the rest.”

“If you’re feeling sorry then stay until I leave.” Oh so easily he is keeping you captive, simply taking advantage of his position because he knows that he can. And of course, you will.

There is the occasional tap tap on a keyboard, turning of pages, then comes the restlessness where conversations are strained or non-existent. As you let the spin of the swivel chair stops on its own, it yields to face the spectacular turquoise tank behind the ornate desk where Jaehyun is sitting at. There swims a three foot long koi which his father bought for 1.4 million after a fierce bidding war at a fish farm in the city of Hiroshima. The bare tank with no gravel or decorations is built into the wall covered with white marble; its simplicity yet luxurious touching makes it a convincingly beautiful moving portrait. Staring at it for the rest of the afternoon, or a probable evening, is enough to elevate your somber mood.

“Mr. Jung—”

“Jaehyun,” he corrects. He has previously asked you to dispense with the “mister” treatment when you and him are alone in the office but you cannot drop the formality just because he said so. You have to maintain the dignity of his position and allegedly emphasize an atmosphere of collegiality.

Suddenly you are eager to initiate a conversation, “I like your fish tank. Salt water?”

“Fresh actually.” Right there. He is giving you the look again. “It’s a carp.”

“I know I sounded dumb… You don’t have to make it so obvious…” you mumble under your breath, but he heard you nonetheless.

The sky has sunk nearer to the horizon and everything is deep red. Your Sunday is like an ordinary weekday and ordinary rounds of filing, opening and sorting the mail, verifying facts and assembling data—which you have gotten everything complete by now. However the workaholic’s compulsive ass stay rooted to his leather seat, as if he is growing right into it. Only when you call out to him for food does he excused himself from the havoc on his desk, reluctantly. It fascinates you most of the time how he actually listens to you when it comes to reminding him to drink, to eat, and never not to eat, because he always, always got carried away and forego meals. At some point, you are like his mother for real and feel an obligation to take care of him his health; while it only increases his dependency on you. Pretty sure you can accurately state his likes and dislikes with the certainty that you understand him better than he understands himself.

Two years of working with Jaehyun, you have never once put your foot in his pantry and you assume he never does too. It fills with the distinctive smell of those new things untouched by humans; pristine white cabinets reach to the floor and ceiling, bisected by a tasteful granite countertop and subway tile backsplash. The warm glow from the overhead lights giving the place a cozy, homey feel (and hiding layers of dust). Rather, you will work in here instead of facing the boring office neutrals 24/7.

You eyed him as he slurps his bowl of jajangmyeon and chomping down the strands of noodles with his front teeth. He resembles a rabbit eating like that but in all honesty you are hyper aware of the black sauce being splattered on his white shirt.

Or what he thinks about the food, “Do you like it?”

He ponders momentarily before answering, “This thing is unhealthy.”

Well, you are unhealthy for your unhealthy eating habits!

Jung Jaehyun, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, is made for fine dining and ridiculously expensive food anyway. What will he even see in these cheap Chinese food?

“How about this— Try this—” Fried dumplings dipped into the red sauce of tteokbokki topped with a piece of kimchi. You pick up the salivating fusion with your chopsticks, before you know it, he leans forward and captures the heaping amount in a huge mouthful. It then follows by approving nods and satisfied hums, all the while your mind comes into play. Purposefully, you ignore the jolt of awareness, even though it twists you up like a pretzel.

“What’s the matter?” he asks. “Do I make you nervous?”

The hell is he talking about. His speech is all but business-like and you are internally freaking out at this cheeky side of your boss.

“N-No…”

“I think I make you nervous.”

“You don’t make me nervous,” you reiterate. Collecting yourself, you pick up overlapping circles of sliced radish and pop them into your mouth only to feel the choking burn of vinegar at the back of your throat.

“Why do you shy away every time our shoulders brush?”

“I don’t like being crowded.”

“You didn’t seem to mind so much before.”

“That was different.”

“What was different?” He wears an open grin of amusement, enjoying every second of your embarrassment.

As you continue to stuff your face, you glance over at him, and caught him staring at you. You look away for a moment, then look at him again. “What are you looking at?” you ask through gritted teeth.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says. “It’s just that, I’ve never seen you dressed in casual clothes.”

You are always in a buttoned-up white blouse, black pencil skirt and matching fitted blazer. “Right, and I get tired of wearing the same thing all the time.”

While he has always dressed in fine shoes and classy suits, you have never before, indeed, seen him like this either—oversized cotton-poplin shirt and black ankle pants. Though someone else may look like a baggy, slouchy mess in the outfit, he looks like a whole meal. This Jaehyun radiates comfort and soothing kindness that for a minute you have forgotten about him being your boss.

“Well, you don’t look so bad yourself.” You tell him and he grins in that lopsided way.

Yet a man has his pride. So you add, “Ugly as ever.” The comment itself is certainly a rude way to speak to your boss and instantly you regret it, but he does not seem bothered anyway.

“I may be ugly, but I’m still better looking than you,” for which he retorts quickly. “Say. Why don’t we skip work tomorrow?”

You blink, taken aback by his idea, but in truth you desperately want to stay home and shed your responsibilities and act as lifeless and unrestrained. “We can’t skip work.”

“C’mon,” he whines, “I know you’re fucking tired of this shit.”

Though once again taken aback by his unusual words and speech patterns—which you can only assume the filters of polite society is not working when he is overtired—his facial expression implies reference to something else. But why the teasing tone?

Then it hits you. Your Twitter account, where you have been very active the last few weeks, as a platform to express your thoughts and emotions on working tons of overtime. Your rants are so insane that it is as if someone has pixelated your brain. The ungenerous, unladylike words blurted you regret them.

“You stalked me!”

“It’s not my fault that your profile is public.”

“Why would you even search my profile?”

“Just checking out what my employees been up to.”

He speaks about it so nonchalantly. You almost roared at him.

“There’s a meeting tomorrow morning with Mr. Kee,” you remind.

He groans only at the utterance of the name of the presenter. Recalling what has occurred in the last conference, he resents waking up early to another yawning dullness, however he chuckles at the reminder of the little interaction between you and him. That brings a pleasant recollection and something to look forward to. Under the table, maybe games of tic-tac-toe, dots and boxes, or maybe, just maybe he can play with your fingers. He stares at your hands to savor the lingering and wonder if you know how incredible they are. Hands like that—small and soft-skinned next to his—should be pampered. He can spin a dream of what those hands will feel like on his flesh.

Suddenly, an overwhelming feeling falls over him as he says, “I’d like to take you to dinner.”

“What?” you ask.

“Dinner. Food.” A few seconds lapsed, and he says, “It seems that I’ve been eating alone a lot lately, and I’d like some conversation with good food.”

“I have plans for—”

“You’re not married, are you?” he asks.

“Me? No, I’m not.”

“Engaged?”

“No.”

“Involved?”

“No,” you answer, a little offended.

“Then let’s have dinner.” That’s it?

“Like… on a date?” Stupid, stupid, stupid, you tell yourself. Dinner. That’s it. You know that you are not supposed to overthink it as a romantic appointment, not with him. Perhaps, he wants to talk about the company’s cash flow in a private setting, or he wants to inquire on the status of recent projects, or he wants to find out which projects are running. Perhaps, deep down, you want to casually talk about everything over good food, as a friend for the least.

“A real date?”

Date. He likes the sound of it, oh he likes it even more when you are the one clarifying it.

“There’s such a thing as a fake date?”

You roll your eyes at him.

“Call it a date then, as you wish.” And you resist scoffing out loud at his cockiness, while there is bursting red upon you the shyness of a young girl.

Hours elapsed upon return to work, but the ambience is more calm, peaceful and comfortable in the moment. Presumably Jaehyun had quelled his distress with food as he is adorable high-spirited than ever. The once deadly dull office is now filled with music of Cigarette After Sex’s and Frank Ocean’s, such that you poke fun of him being an emotional teen, while you secretly enjoy the songs as well.

By the time Jaehyun finally shuts down the computer, though the files are left open on his desk, it is already midnight. With a groan, you sink in the fact that you still have to wake up early tomorrow as per usual.

At the sound of it, Jaehyun turns to you with a raised brow, “What? Don’t want to leave?”

For a minute, he looked unusually handsome and resplendent, marked by deep-set brown eyes, little indentations in his cheeks. He is teasing and it does not help with how awestricken you already are by the look he gave you. For a second, you stand rooted to the spot with nerves twisting your insides; Jaehyun holding the elevator door open and waiting.

His fake cough brings you sharply back to your senses. “Oh, no— shit— sorry,” a smile pulling at the edges of your mouth with false gaiety.

The elevator comes to a stop. Later taking larger steps than you usually do and out to the ground floor lobby, there he cocks his head, confused, “Where are you going?”

“I’m not driving today. I’ll take the bus home. See you tomorrow, Mr. Jung.” You bow and wave in a polite manner but he is quick to stop you from taking more steps away.

“I’ll give you a ride. Come in.”

“It’s fine. The bus station is not so far away.”

And just like that the both of you end up arguing at a distance over the way to get yourself home, with him still pressing the ‘open’ button that his finger is most likely indented at this point.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” his eyes stern as he scolds (but with no harshness in his voice) yet you then are aware of this mistaken outburst of his and so you quickly step inside. His lips curled up in a victorious smirk unnoticeable by you, a clear winner once again.

Jaehyun drives this maddeningly slow pace when the road is not even under congested conditions at this hour. Inside this four wheels, you seem to get strangely awkward with all the fidgeting of fingers on the seatbelt despite being on the same ride for multiple times. But those times were with his private chauffeur as well. Have you talk about the Jung Jaehyun drives one-handed? Because that is freaking hot. Spicy.

Things take off another note—when the next morning you arrive with a cup of hot, steaming coffee and your favourite cinnamon sugar donuts on your desk. Judging that you appear to be showing up behind schedule for sleeping in—the reason being so, it is better not to be reminded of. You run a list of names in your head to figure out who that ‘secret angel’ could be. Aside from your only friend in the workplace, Chaeyong, who received maternity leave a few months ago. You hardly associate with the rest of the employees due to your position that you only need to deal with one person. And that only person seems to have been watching you the second you walk in, however, there he is sitting in his office, eyes trained on the documents from the night before.

It is of infrequent occasions he has the shades rolled up.

The said meeting with Mr. Kee goes by smoothly with the respective project itself taking form now and the next thing you know—you are sitting at a table of two in a fancy Italian restaurant located within the affluent area of central Seoul. You are still unable to stir the reality that the ‘date’ is actually happening, judging that Jaehyun could have or should have brushed it off when both are time-poor during the day. Here you have him twirling a glass of red liquid by its stem mindlessly and show no signs of initiating a conversation. It is frustrating at first, but you think that there is a need to make the most of the night when you could have been eating cheeseburger and greasy food back at your little chamber.

Unfortunately, what should have been a long-winded conversation dies down fast with Jaehyun answering questions by questions in straightforward and short factual answers instead of throwing the ball back to you in effort of prolonging. You bet your entire fortune that Jaehyun is a mo-ssol (one who has never dated since birth), judging the way he speaks in a manner so expressionless like a piece of log, so stubborn. All those meetings or business events do him no good.

Sigh. You have to do everything yourself around here.

It almost takes you off guard when he asks, “So… tell me about yourself.” You definitely knows him very well but it was never the other way round. Your heart beats with odd little jerks at the thought of his possible interest in you. Now, you do not want to give yourself a false hope of it being a romantic interest otherwise.

To make things easier, you suggest on the game of “I Like”, to which he shrugs and says, “Okay.”

You begin, “I like… visiting zoos, scented candles and everything chocolate.”

“That’s odd.”

A weird combination indeed but, “That’s how the game goes!”

“Well… I like…” he ponders for such a long time, as if mulling over the merit of finally revealing the side of him that you never knew of, nonetheless, “I like… turntable, pistachio ice-cream and Batman.”

Your chuckle comes in response at his last item, “Batman, really?”

“Hey, never judge someone’s favourite superhero!”

“Whatever,” you mumble a, “Superman is way better,” under your breath to which he catches on immediately and a childish bickering breaks out from then on who is the best superhero.

After paying the bill and a bit of you whining, “I don’t want to go home… It’s cold, dark and lonely, and cold…” after wine after wine intake. Jaehyun takes you back to his place and things escalated from there. You kick off your heels attempting to slide across the marble floor in bare feet, stumbling forward you slam him against the wall while still holding on to him.

Though genuinely surprised, he cannot ignore your eyes like cataracts producing the hazy look, blush tingeing your cheeks from too much alcohol and every inch nearer you get he finds himself having trouble refusing your anything. Letting your index finger, delicate, almost like a feather, trace the arch of his eyebrows to the tip of his nose and along his pouty lips.

“N-no… We can’t do this…” he groans in protest, holding onto a dangerous slippery rope that is ‘lust’. He finds it completely wrong to take advantage of you in this drunken state, but you seem to not care at all as you slide closer to him stepping on his sock clad feet. Your narrow rib cage with the pillowy softness of your bosom pressing against his chest, so alluring with your breath mingles with his own—that is his last straw.

He inches a hand downward and wraps itself around your waist as he gathers you close capturing your mouth with his in a dance of sorts, tasting with tender, tantalizing nips and slow strokes of his tongue. Feeling—yes—the excitement of his racing heart and the ragged edge of his breathing. You are so generous, so giving, so primally female. He has never done this before, but his body reacts, it is taut and hard and humming with impatience.

You ease his suit jacket off his shoulders and it drops on the floor behind him. Then he twists around, shuffling to his room until he falls backwards when his foot hit the edge of the gargantuan bed. Straddling atop him, you curl your hands into his pristine shirtfront and surrender to the consuming heat of his kiss. In semi-consciousness, your fingers flick open the buttons. He weaves his fingers into your silky hair as you continue to undress him. He spins your bodies around again, this time having his hips nestle their way between your thighs.

You want to touch him. You want him to touch you—all over—but all he does is touch you with his mouth and feed you kisses while devouring your good sense. He growls low in his throat as he abandons your mouth to drag his lips along your jaw. He licks at the delicate skin of your throat and closes his teeth on the tendon joining your neck and shoulder, sending sensation shooting through your body like a hot bolt of lightning. You shudder, half expecting your head to explode.

“Jaehyun… it tickles,” turning into a giggling mess when he slides his lips over your neck, kissing from the front to the sides to the back. He chuckles boyishly all the way and those giggles turn into breathy sighs, gasps when he lingers on the tender skin behind your ear. You moan, moving restlessly against him and nearly combust when the long, thick ridge of his arousal presses against you. Right where a painful, empty ache blossoms.

Every stitch of clothing removed and your entire body gives a single shiver as he enters with perfect precision, penetrating slowly all the way inside. He is so tender, so gentle with each thrust, making you cry out in blinding ecstasy and only crave him more. He revels in the new sensations of you enclosed around him so tightly, and how good your bare skin feels against his. It is a level of heaven he has never known existed.

“Oh God, you feel so good,” he curses under his breath, closing his eyes as he savors each moment rising towards his own orgasm, “Want to come inside you, is that okay? Can I?”

You cannot even form an answer properly with your mind fuzzy with absolute pleasure that adds to your intoxication, giving him a weak nod and clenching around him so he is moaning your name loudly. As you both reach the edge and shatter, you hold onto each other and squeezing whatever is there to reach out. Breathing deeper and faster, hearts pounding in your chests, laying there limbs tangled for quite some time.

Your internal clock wakes you up at eleven and you glance around trying to assimilate something of your surroundings. Your eyes, squinting in the sunlight that dance through the large windows. Your body, dressing in a pair of silk pajamas that is of luxuriousness you will never possess. Immediately, you head in the direction of what you assume is the bathroom. And your reflection, astonishingly clean and tidied up of the makeup from the night before besides the remnants of waterproof mascara and some semi-permanent “stains” on your skin.

Jaehyun looks to you popping out from behind the wall like a thief, his eyes falling to the shirt you are wearing and the corners of his lips twitch upward at the sight. You have not acknowledged his presence yet as you continue marvelling at the large apartment until you hear a soft chuckle from a distance. You shriek, there sits your superior at the dining table with a tablet propped up in a case.

“W-we’re… late for work,” you blurt out awkwardly, glancing at the clock on the wall.

There is a short pause before he speaks, “Well, good morning?” and tells you that he has called in to say that you are both away on a business trip. Skipping the fact that you are walking funnily.

The tips of his ears a cute shade of pink and it hits you, “D-did we…?” Such a stupid question when your neck and chest all over have hickies that match the big one on his clavicle. Boy, were you wild last night. He only answers with fake coughs and avoids looking directly at you.

Your eyes squeeze shut with a heavy sigh upon an internal breakdown. How are you supposed to maintain a great performance at work when the embodiment of your disaster is only a few feet away. Things will never be the same. Heck, it was never the same since the incident from a month ago.

“Please tell me I didn’t do anything stupid…” if sleeping with your boss is not dumb enough. You just have to be reminded about it over and over again. Is there any way you can shut down your brain or even better, trade it with someone else?

“...besides dragging me around by my necktie,” he mumbles, the shade of his ears intensifies and spreading to the column of his neck. Anyways, “Are you hungry?”

You are about to reject and scram off to your apartment just to hide this enormous feeling of embarrassment you are suffering at the moment but heaven does not help you. Your belly rumbles in hunger and he is instructing you to take a seat.

The smell of lightly burnt toast with a side of eggs and delicious bacon as well as the aroma of caramel coffee makes your mouth water. Though it is just a combination of simple brunch menu, he manages to get the job done perfectly and you are inhaling the food with a childish grin. The humiliation from before has whisked off and thrown to the back of your mind, replacing with the appreciation of having someone to fill you up instead. Wait— that sounds wrong. You choke on food and on the air itself at such polluted thought.

“Are you okay?” he rushes to your side giving gentle pats on your back.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, just—” you find yourself going red again when you see that maroon mark on his skin.

His hand finds purchase on your head, stroking endearingly, “Don’t get all shy with me now. You’re practically all over me last night.”

Right when you are getting mushy from the affection, he has to add that so you remove his hand and sigh heavily, “Mr. Jung—” his brows furrow at the formal address, “Maybe we should just forget about the whole thing—”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he interrupts, “I’ve seen the way you look at me and you should’ve known better. I would’ve transferred you to another department if I were so against it but I kept you by my side, didn’t I? You knew that I could hardly work with anyone else, I am stubborn at times and couldn’t even take care of myself, but the fact that you are always there when I need you… You understand me more than myself and you’re…” he heaves a sigh of overwhelming relief for finally getting off these words from his chest, “You’re just amazing…” There are sparkles in his eyes with the utmost sincerity.

Oh my Lord, is this a confession? Is it? This is a confession!

“So… you took me on a date to fuck me?” Your mind chooses to betray you at the very moment, being equally submerged by the revelation.

“I’ve never said that.” Bending, he leans closer, “But we had a great time. True?” and kisses your lips you stiffen unprepared. Seeing that you did not answer, he adds, “I don’t mind going for another. If you’re down for it too.”

Things do change afterwards. The atmosphere of that particular 45th floor of the office building has now blossomed with bubbles of pink. Jaehyun has the shades rolled up ever since and sometimes sending you flirty gazes. It is surely distracting but you do the same and never fail to grasp the chance just staring at him in awe and thinking, “Oh, this handsome man is mine!” The oftener he catches you watching and the intercom goes, “Missy, get back to work.”

Even so, Sooyoung still pay her regular visits. As she finally leaves his office, you are called over immediately and the first things you say, “What does she want this time?” not realizing your tone of speech.

He grins, victorious, “Were you jealous all this while?”

With a scoff, “Jealous my butt.”

“Had I known…”

“What?” What are you gonna do? I dare you!

“I would’ve kept her in longer,” he says nonchalantly, though you are fuming with his ridiculousness (knowing that he is only teasing). But still!

He is quick to catch your wrist when you turn to leave, and tucks you in the warmth of his embrace. Your nose filled with the scent of him. His cologne makes you think of green, grassy meadows covered with yellow flowers. So fucking good.

“Mr. Jung, it’s against the rules— Keep the dating scenes away,” you warn in a stern voice, feigning annoyance from his previous remark.

He leans closer instead and invades your space, capturing your mouth in a scorching kiss like he has been holding himself back for hours.

“My rules, my way.”

#nct jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct fluff #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun smut #pardon me I have no idea what I'm writing #this has been sitting in my draft for quite awhile

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snakesnsnoodles · 6 years

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2, 56 and 58

2. Who have you hurt the most?

That's a broad question, but I think I would have to say people that I’ve lashed out at or just ones I’ve cut out of my life.... I hate that I’ve hurt anyone, but I’m sure there is more that I have hurt in my past, I just can't remember

56. Have you ever seriously considered killing someone?

Yes, but thats in fits of rage and I usually get over it. Unless myself counts??? Hahaha

58. Have you ever experienced something supernatural or unexplainable?

Buckle up buttercup, I have a lot of stories. Mostly from my old house in childhood and the farm. I’ll put it under the cut cause death mentions and such

cause long post is long

Woman in White and The Black Snake When I was maybe 4 or 6 years old. My parents lived in the bedroom downstairs, my current room. I was(and still am) an nervous child and a very bad sleeper due to my constant nightmares.... When I was young, the second Harry Potter movie was out and I was terrified of the Basilisk(oddly enough cause now I think its cute???). So I would have this recurring nightmare where this giant black snake, not the Basilisk oddly enough, would chase me through my house and try to snatch me up. I would run around the house and it was alot like the scene in the movie where Harry was running through the tunnels and yeahhhhh. Anyways one night after this nightmare I was so scared I ran down to my parents room like I always would to get away. I would climb between them and try to sleep but I would end up staying awake anyways... On this particular night, I came down and laid on the end of the bed instead, I didn't want to wake them up, I hated bugging them but I was so freaked. I heard a soft noise and I tensed up and looked around, thats when I saw it.. or should I say "her?"...A woman, dressed in a simple white dress, reaching her upper thigh, standing in the corner, she had long white curly hair and amberish, red/ or purple? eyes. She was so pale and beautiful, if not for the red slash across her throat and and the stains on her dress and pale glowing skin, I would have thought her to be an Angel. I sat up and pinched myself to make sure I was awake and she was still there. I was so scared I froze like ice. I could not move and I tried... I couldn't scream and I couldn't do a thing. She smiled and walked towards me, and then stopped and stood over the bed. She reached out to touch my face it was so cold, but hesitated. Her smile fade and she looked around seeming worried... then she vanished and I was freed from the ... spell? trance? I'm not sure... but the rest of the night I couldn't sleep and I kept hearing crying and the occasional shadow would dart around the room. I was so afraid I stayed awake until dawn, again. In the morning I tried to tell my parents but mom got all weird and said it was my over active imagination, but it was so real and I was and still am convinced she was trying to tell me something... The night after I had that snake nightmare again. But this time for some bizarre reason, I turned around and let the snake catch up with me. He stopped and looked at me with his bright toxic green eyes and we had a long staredown, he seemed to expect me to run, but I stopped myself. After what seemed like forever he leaned down and licked me, then after that in the dream, me and this snake played all night and I fell asleep against him in the dream, thats when I woke up, feeling like I had the best sleep of my life. That was what probably started my obsession and love of snakes... I still don't know where or what was going on with the woman and I worried about it for years... In the end I started to write a story involving the snake and the woman, I named the snake Daniel and the woman Onria....She's the main goddess in my story, and Daniel is her prophet... That whole experience spawned some of my earliest OC's.... I still on rare occasions dream about the snake, Daniel as I call him, but its rare... The Old Farm House / Hey Great Great-Grandpa! Where Is Your Leg? When I was around 4th grade, we lived in Minnesota, far away from our house (we had the farmhouse and the one here in Manvel, but my dad owned the farm and mom owned the one in Manvel, they weren't married till i turned like 16, 17 years old tbh) Anyways, it was a house thats been in my dad's family since it was built. I had a bedroom in the upstairs and I lived under the attic. My mom and dad had a bedroom on the main floor along with the living room with a door so I could go in there and shut the door. Anyways I typically didn't sleep in my bedroom, I usually slept down on the main floor living room on the couch and fell asleep watching movies. But this night I decided to sleep upstairs in my bedroom with my hideaway couch/bed thing. I played some paper mario on my gamecube (oh my lord I feel old lol ), played with my hamster, and turned out the lights to go to bed. But of course as soon as the lights went out I heard some thumping around above my head... I got scared and fumbled with the light string (yes it was an old attachment thing haha, no switches upstairs) and I couldn't get it on. Not long after that I heard a soft moan and the room turned cold. A man stood in the doorway squinting at me, he looked alot like my grandpa, but that was impossible because he was still alive at the time.... The man in the doorway was wearing an old time war outfit with one of the legs missing up to his hip. I just stared at him cause I was so scared. He blinked and pointed at the window and said something about the garage??? I looked at the window and looked back and he was gone. So the next morning I go out to the garage, it was full of junk and stuff, never parked a car in it tbh. But anyways I went in and looked around and found a big jar. In the jar was some preservative fluid, and a fucking leg bone. Like the whole leg and foot. It was fascinating and I ran to the house to ask my dad about it. (I didn't say anything about the supernatural hint because my parents never believe me...) He said I had found my great-great grandpa's leg, he had lost it long ago and they preserved it after they found it. It still messes with me that a dead relative pointed me to his dead body parts. I rarely ever slept upstairs after that, cause whenever I did I would heat the knocking in the attic and it drove me nuts. Bump in the Night / Whispering Assault Warning, this one MIGHT be triggering to you if you've been creeped on, maybe you should skip this one, just a heads up... Alright. This one is the most recent of all the stories. And this one is a bad experience I have had/am still having..? Nothing has happened since my basement flooded ... but I'm still cautious of this one.... So. This started when I was still 18 and I'm now 20, so its been about 2 years. Every so often in my house I stay up past 3am just to kinda work on doodles or watch videos, ect. On the first time this happened and I noticed it I was doodling, with no music on or any kind of noise. But suddenly I hear shuffling soft footsteps outside my room door. At first I thought it was my mom, but on how the hell she snuck downstairs without me hearing the upstairs door slam open, creak open, or the loud ass stairs, was my first hint that something was wrong. I got up and listened to the footsteps. They stopped, so I reluctantly laid back down in my bed. But as soon as I did that I heard the sounds of someone messing with the loud light switch, I got up much quicker and saw the light slightly flicker under the door, I stupidly opened the door as fast as I could, nothing was there but the air felt really heavy I slammed the light on. (At this point I've gotten brave when it comes to the supernatural seriously I've made it this far in life without dying) The room felt wrong and it felt like the dark was alive in the basement room across from me.... so I closed the door and locked it. I left my closet light on that night. There was a few more incidents like this one where I would hear the noise, minorly freak out, and just try and ignore it. Then there was the two incidents... One where they approached me, and the second, when they spoke to me. I shut off my electronics for the night and laid down in my bed (a weird coincidence my bed is in the same corner as where I first saw the lady in white, Onria. But this must be a different ghost, this one burns not freezes... o-o") As I was laying there, I had a scary feeling of being watched. I was too scared to look to the end of my bed but I felt the odd presence and pulled my huge comforter over my head. As soon as did this I felt something lay right on top of me, it was as heavy as a person, my heart was racing and I panicked and stayed under the blanket. I felt it feeling me up all over, it pressed against me, uncomfortably touching everything. I tried to struggle, but it held on tight. It was way to warm and I could hardly breathe. Finally the pressure released me and I reluctantly lifted the blanket to look and as quick as I could manage I turned all the lights in my room, it was gone. The second and last time I heard from this same presence was maybe a couple months before the flood in my basement when the same-ish situation happened where I felt them lay on me, but much gentler this time.... There was weird and pleasant sensations. It was weird as hell and I felt breath in my ear and heard a woman speak, she said "its ok" and "I know about her" and then something about "You're not who you are". I felt a soft pressure on my lips and the presence was gone. I sat up quickly and remember seeing a soft flash of light outside my room and then it was gone. After that I heard the noises very rarely and I still felt the darkness in the other room. I still get that feeling, usually upstairs now... In the end I am still to this day confused as hell.... and thats all my big experiences?

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667-darkavenue · 7 years

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Sad Lib Ouija

@daughterofthestars‘ lupcretia doodle gave me a craving to write some mage hand shenanigans so....

“Gonna wake up so sore tomorrow,” Lup complained, brows drawn together from the pain of moving her shoulders at all.

“It’s been raining for twenty days straight on this shithole planet,” Taako, caked in mud, whined back before disappearing into the bathroom that connected their adjoining rooms.

He snapped the door shut with deliberate force to punctuate how pissy the day’s events left him. Lup didn’t blame him. The light of creation appeared late this year, which pushed them to leave their base at the crack of dawn every grey morning to get as much searching done through the rainstorms constantly plaguing this part of the country they stayed in. They spent the day hiking calf-deep in mud through twisted jungle paths, then scaling a mountainside before discovering, upon reaching its peak, it was the wrong fucking mountain. Lup nearly flung herself off the ledge in frustration. Rain or not, they had a mission to finish, and would set out again in less than seven hours.

She’d been in a similar mood as her brother twenty minutes ago, but, exhausted and sore as she was, something about being freshly showered and wrapped up in her bathrobe always lifted her spirits. She collapsed face first into her bed, longing to knock the fuck out.

Her throat was so dry.

Maybe she could ignore it.

No, it was uncomfortably parched.

Lup’s eyes snapped open and she released a frustrated sigh. With every tired muscle complaining, she dragged herself out of bed and down the hallway with plans to chug down a jug of water in record time. The corridor was pitch black, except for one streak of orange light spilling from a door left ajar. They’d been on this ship long enough for Lup to know that was Lucretia’s room, just from its place in the hallway. Naturally, she poked her nose in as she passed.

She saw Lucretia’s back hunched over her desk. Lup could tell she was ready to drop by the tired heaviness in the way her shoulders sagged. She leaned against the doorframe and watched for a couple of minutes, somehow still impressed at the sight of Lucretia writing with two hands simultaneously even after all this time.

“Hey.”

Lucretia paused at the sound of a voice in her doorway and looked over her shoulder. She didn’t put the quills in her hands down. “Hey?”

“What are you doing?” Lup traipsed in and sat herself right on the edge of the desk. “How d’you have the energy for this right now?”

“I don’t know if I do have it,” Lucretia said, darting a panicked look at Lup’s legs nearly knocking over an inkwell as they crossed. “But I won’t have time to do it in the morning.”

She went back to her journaling. Her handwriting was lovely in both books.

“Thought you gave up this nerdy stuff now that you’re a badass who comes on missions with us.”

“You thought wrong,” she said without looking up. Her voice had a careless, flat edge to it that implied ‘Fuck off, Lup.’ Old Lucretia would have softened that. New Lucretia was awesome.

New Lucretia slid sixty yards down a mountainside when the ground, soft and heavy with moisture, collapsed out from under her today and didn’t even seem freaked out about it when she caught up to the team. She had to be more exhausted than any of them.

“Are you coming with tomorrow?”

“Yeah? Yeah.”

“Have you stayed up every night doing this? Jesus, Lucretia, put the quill down and go the fuck to sleep.”

She dutifully ignored Lup hovering over her and continued writing away. Lup plucked the quill out of her right hand. Lucretia’s head snapped up to pierce her with a sharp look. It was a good one, for a moment Lup felt like she was actually in trouble.

“Give me that.” Lucretia held her palm out expectantly.

Lup slapped a low five on it with her free hand.

“Lup.” She reached for it and Lup raised her hand to hold it just out of reach.

Lucretia’s fingers swiped higher and nearly caught it this time. Lup clamped the quill between her teeth.

“Let’s tango,” she said through clenched teeth, feeling like a dancer holding a rose in their mouth.

“Fine.” Lucretia dropped her hand and fell back into her seat.

Victory! She’s giving up and going to be--The quill ripped itself out from between Lup’s teeth with a vicious yank. It floated right back into Lucretia’s fingers.

“What the--” Bits of feather stuck to the the tip of her tongue and the roof of her mouth, and she sputtered clumsily for a moment, trying to spit them out. “Did you fuckin’ Mage Hand me?”

“I don’t know, did I,” Lucretia wondered out loud to her notebook, which she turned her focus to again.

An impish smile broke over Lup’s face, but Lucretia was too busy looking down at the page to see it. Seconds later, a transparent hand appeared over the quill and pushed its stem. Her elegant handwriting jerked mid-word.

“Seriously, Lup? Grow up.” Lucretia tried to carry on unbothered.

“Yikes, what does that even say? Put it down, you’re obviously tired.” Mage Hand pushed the quill again, ruining another word.

Lucretia carried on despite the fumbles in her text. “I’m fine!”

Mage Hand clamped itself around hers, dragging Lucretia’s fist over the page. The current sentence read: The aboriginal race native to forests of our expedition has the misfortune ofSLEEP living amongst the only known LUCREsource oTfA GO the deliTO SLciousEEP Hama root.

Lucretia made a tiny, distressed noise in her throat at the garbled mess taking over her page. “Let go of me!”

“I’m not touching you,” Lup answered in a familiar, playful voice that was usually reserved for Taako.

“Why are you even here? Get out of my room!”

“Aww, are you an only child, Lucretia?”

The root is a delicacy throughout thHEY controlling empires. Colonial farming operationsFUCKIN encroach upon STOtPhe jungles that the peaceful LanzaroHEtesYYYcall home.

Mage Hand dissipated at the end of its time limit and Lucretia sighed, relieved. Lup immediately recast it.

“Stop!”

“You stop,” Lup insisted.

Though colonizers met resistance from THEIR theCLOGGED ASSHOLES native population, the taste of COCK the Hama root was so beloved that entire divisions were sent overseas to suSUCCppress the uprising.

“Lup, this is important!”

“Oh my god, I know. What happened after the succ?”

“This is a historically significant culture with very little documentation!”

“It’s like fantasy mad libs, but not even fun. Sad libs.”

The operation is well known as a historical embarrassment, as tHEIR DICKS WERE SO DAMN SMALL IN COMPARISON TO the Lanzarotes’ prowess in stealth prevented the military from ever fully suppressing the LUST OF the native population.

“Fine, I give up.”

“Oh, no you don’t.”

“No?” Lucretia tried to drop the quill, but Mage Hand kept its fingers wrapped tight around hers, trapping it in her hand.

“I need to know what happened with the sexual revolution! You have a duty—”

“Let me go!”

“—To the people—”

“I want to stop now!”

“—Lucretia. Do you really?”

Mage hand took over the text while Lucretia’s fingers went limp and desperately tried to wriggle out of its grip. The story continued: THE LAZNAROTES ARE MOST NOTABLE FOR HOW MANY WAYS THEY CAN DICK YOU DOWN.

“What are you doing?”

“Holy shit, Lucretia, how do you even know that?”

“That’s not even true.”

IT’S COMPLETELY TRUE.

“Lup, this is a first hand source—it’s an archival document, you can’t just—”

BELOW IS AN EXPLICIT FIRST HAND ACCOUNT FROM MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. FOR I, LUCRETIA, AM NOT ONLY A COMITTED PUBLIC SERVANT, BUT ALSO A SEXUALLY ADVENTUROUS CHRONICLER FOR THE ANALS OF HISTORY. *annals *committe*NO. ANALS.

“Wait,” Lup paused. “Are you spellchecking me?”

“Hm? I’m curious where this is going.”

In the midst of Lup’s shock and delight, the hand let go of Lucretia. “You wanna read some x-rated jungle smut about you?!”

Lucretia pushed the messed up journal toward her, its open pages scattered with their messy, inconsistent joint handwriting. “You can take this with you if you need some time to work on it.”

“Ha, I knew I could make you give up on the boring shit.”

“Oh, no. No, I already wrapped that up.” Her left hand closed the journal it had been writing in and gave the cover a light pat.

Oh, fuck. Lup was so concentrated on messing with Lucretia, she didn’t think about the second book. It never crossed her mind that Lucretia could possibly maintain focus on serious writing with her left hand at the same time that she dealt with Lup being ridiculous on her right. Could it be... Old Lucretia was also a secret badass all along?

“Touché, you slutty annalist. I’m coming back tomorrow night.”

#lupcretia #taz #the adventure zone #lup #lucretia

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