#IT TOOK ME. 6 HOURS TO REALIZE I DIDNT EVEN TAG THE MAN HIMSELF THIS IS EMBARRASSING

[cespool]

Lou is out here collecting DMs like infinity stones damn

[spikesbimbo]

Picnic Date

Pairing: Shugo Meian x Reader

Tags: Picnic date with a side of head, fluff, babymaking breeding kink, daddy kink, nipple sucking, oral sex, handjob, outdoor/public sex, mating press

Summary: Your titties look a little too good to be kept in that dress.

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: i tried looking up his bio to get a better idea of his personality but there's nothing. I def think hes a gemini sun and/or mars

-And also i do not support zoos and aquariums, i just can't think of where else people would go on a date☠️

18+ Minors DNI

You laid on the blanket, your head in his lap a little buzzed from the champagne you drank earlier, giggling with that soft smile of yours, him stroking your hair out of your face watching the cute little kids run around.

Going out with your fiance was a regular occurance, you’ve pretty much been (fucked) everywhere in the city with him. He loved to express his feelings for you by taking you on spontaneous dates; whether it be the beach in the middle of the night, the club, aquarium, and any new food place that opened up, loving watching you eat.

“Aren't they cute?” He said referring to the toddler pushing his baby brother on the swing. You already knew where this was going, yes you've daydreamed about starting a family together, but having a 6' 5., 200lb man's babies was a nightmare for your body. But that was overshadowed but the sincere look he had on his face watching them play, not to mention you were ovulating right now making your baby fever rise.

“Yeah” you shyly mumble, hoping he doesn't notice the blood rushing to your face, spoiler he does. 

You try to take your mind off of that, feeding him the sliced up watermelon, keeping all the strawberries to yourself. His lips lingering on your sticky fingers. You loved babying him, yes he was a grown, strong ass man, but the second he was in your arms he melted, finding comfort in you.

“Your shoulders are stiff baby” you said, noticing it after leaning on them for hours “You want a massage?” you asked, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, already knowing the answer taking matters into your own hands.

“Yeah doll, whatever you want.” he said, giving you the go. You work your hands over his shoulders down his back, your boobs pushing against him, making him grow in his pants. You were just trying to have a cute date, but the way your body looked in that sundress was killing him. The thin straps leading down to the v-neck exposing your cleavage. The loose cotton material hugging your hips perfectly, stopping below your knees. Fuck you were pretty.

The tree behind you covered you two just enough, the park was empty enough now as it was now dinner time and all the families went home. 

He thinks for a second, it not being the first time you two have fucked in public, the last time being in the locker room. All worries leave him as he grabs your neck pulling you in for a kiss, falling in his lap. His lips were warm and soft, parting slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside tasting the sweetness of the fruit.

He kisses down your neck, stopping at your collarbone and pulls your top to the side freeing your breast. “Meian”  You moaned, the feeling of being exposed making you twitch.

His mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking greedily, gripping his hair pushing him into you more. Your tits feeling sensitive and sore, him latching his mouth onto you. He was so grateful for you being in his life, letting him use you as he needed. Him showing his love by giving you your every want and need.

You looked around making sure no one was here, the embarrassment of Hinata walking in on you two while he was balls deep in you in the locker room making cringe at the thought, but who were you to deny your fiance as sweet as he was? 

You reach down palming his crotch until he was hard. Your fingers sliding slowly down not wanting to leave, unzipping his pants bringing his boxers down, precum staining the fabric pulling it down enough to uncover his cock. 

You wanted to be his good girl, he was always so good to you. He’d never tell you no, whether it was wanting him to get you something or wanting to ride him in the middle of the night, he never told you no.

“nghh daddy” you whined, him finally giving you a break from abusing your tits. He tightly wrapped his other hand around your waist leaving an imprint, dragging you closer to him.

“You're so good to me angel.” He whispered, making you shudder. His low voice stirring something inside of you.

“Really daddy?” You asked, hoping to get confirmation that you were doing a good job, grabbing his balls underneath you.

“Fuck baby” he said, thrusting his hips, you squeezing his balls a little harder. He looked at you with heavy eyes, pleading for you to touch his throbbing cock.

You took him in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his shaft the best you could, stroking him slowly looking up to meet his eyes to see if you were doing a good job.

He looks at you grabbing your thigh to stabilize himself and reattaching himself to you tits, you made him feel like he was in heaven, what's better than getting played with by a pretty girl with her tits in his mouth.

“Fuck princess im close. You gonna let me cum in that little mouth of yours?” you don't respond, just moving your head down to be face to face with his cock stroking your hand faster, opening your mouth for whenever he was ready.

“Fuck y/n” he groaned, his voice crackling at his release. His cock still so sensitive in your hands. His cum dripping down your lips, you not being able to swallow it all.

“Clean it up” He said, referring to the mess in his lap. You quickly moved your mouth to his length kissing the tip, some cum still on it as you worked your way down. His hand grips your hair as you wrap your lips around him.

 A throaty groan escapes and he rolls eyes back. He thrusts into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat making you gag and your eyes water, but you don't get off, still keeping him in your mouth.

You move your head up and down moaning at the feeling, wanting to reach down and relieve yourself but knowing he wouldn't allow it. Your eyes water this time not because you're choking but because you're needy, wanting to be touched also. 

Your eyes flicker up and see him staring at you with his eyes drowning you in lust. His dark locks stuck to his forehead. His cheeks red with want as his breath quickens.

“Baby, fuck. I'm close”

You bob your head faster, hoping to push him over the edge sooner, your jaw hurting with each motion. His hand is wrapped in your hair again and you can feel his voice get strained and deeper letting you know he was about to cum again.

He doesnt pull out when he spills, his cock sitting in the back of your throat. You swallow his cum for the second time today. Him finally taking it out, looking at your disheveled appearance, wondering how you were so beautiful while looking like a mess.

“Cmere baby” he said dragging you in for a kiss, lifting your dress up enough to feel your drenched panties, not giving a fuck if anyone saw with the sun still out.

You loved his cock so much, borderline worshipping it. It filled you in all the right places, stretching your little cunny out while hitting your g spot, him being the only one that could ever make you feel this way.

“Daddy” you moaned. “ I need it daddy. Please” You whined out as he laid you on your back, hand behind your head making sure you didn't hurt yourself. 

He parted your legs sliding your panties off, your body beneath him, your soft tits slipping out of your dress, your soaked pussy on display for him. Fuck he was in love. 

“Hold on angel” he said, adjusting himself with your entrance, staying in this position so he could see your pretty face.

 “You're such a good girl.” he said, slowly sliding his cock in against your whimpers. “Pretty girl, taking a cock too big for you” he continued, you grabbing his arms, leaving indents from your nails.

 “Look at you, i haven't even bottomed out yet and you've already made a mess” he teased, putting your legs on his shoulders, stroking your cheek.

 “Uhhngh please” you cried trying to hold on as he finally settled into you and started thrusting 

 “Meian please” you said not knowing what you were begging for. 

 “Hmm” he froze, stopping his movement.

 “s-sorry daddy” you realized correcting yourself.  “sorry please... please”

 “Guess I’ll just have to pull out then” he said slowly taking his cock out looking at your teary eyes all distraught

 “No! Dont pull out. Daddy pleaseee, no, please please... nghhah” you cried out like the world was gonna end if he didnt fuck you.

“Hmm? You want me to cum in you? You want my babies?” he teased, getting off on the fact that he knew you got turned by the thought of having his kids. The embarrassment appearing on your face, highly aware of your needs, you turned your face away looking at the grass beside you.

 “Hmm? u gonna be my good girl?” He said cupping your jaw to look at him.

 “Yes daddy” you said reaching your arms out trying to grab him in for a kiss.

 “Nope only good girls get to kiss daddy”

“Nooo daddy please!” You cried again, needing his touch.

 “U gonna let me stuff you full?”

 “Yea-ah” you said pulling your legs back exposing your sloppy cunt, needing him to be in you again.

 “There’s my good girl” he praised leaning down into you, thrusting in you getting harder each time. 

 “D-daddy m’gonna make a mess” You cried coming closer to your orgasm. You feeling him batter your cervix and g spot at the same time making your tummy burn and seeing white.

 “You are sweet girl? Go ahead. Do it.” He cooed, encouraging you to let go. You listened and quickly came, clenching around him making him follow soon after.

 He brought you up against him, his still being in you whispering sweet praise while stroking your head. You feel so content in his arms, enough to fall asleep, but unfortunately you two had to walk home as the sun was setting.

 “Love you meian” You said, snuggling in him yawning

“Love you too angel” he replied, kissing your forehead as you two watched the sun set in the distance, trying you best to stay awake. The both of you never being as happy as you were together.

<3

© all content belongs to spikesbimbo. do not alter or repost .

[whitelacepants]

Title: Unconditional

Word count: 1,212

Pairing: Percy/Nico

Summary: Nico comforts Percy after he and Annabeth break up.

hey there! i tried a more formal approach this time with like, a title n everything lol. but yeah, this is part 2! sorry it took so long, lost motivation for a second there. but it's almoat 5am and i finally finished this damn thing. sorry if the spacing is fucked, tumblr is weird. I'll probably post these on ao3 once i figure out how to do that. but yeah, anyways, have fun reading, let me know what you think!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I didn't think you'd be up. Thanks for being here."

Nico hums in acknowledgement. Percy wraps his arms tighter around Nico's waist as he runs his fingers through Percy's hair in a comforting gesture. The legs surrounding Percy's body are warm from how long he'd been lying between them, thin and more muscular than what he's used to but still comfortable. Their relationship has evolved from one of friendship to an agonizing balance on the line of something not quite platonic but not quite romantic.

They're in Percy's cabin, back at Camp Half-Blood for a couple weeks to help get a few new demigods settled in, per Chiron's request. It's been a few weeks since the...incident, between Nico and Annabeth, and the aftermath has taken it's toll on both of them, Percy the most.

~~~~~

"Percy, what's going on?"

"...I wanna break up."

A silent room.

"Where is this even coming from? I've given you everything you needed!"

"No, Annabeth, you've given yourself everything that you needed."

"That's insane! I've been there for you ever since you showed up in this damn camp."

"Yeah, you've been there to insult me every step of the way, and you thought kissing it better would make it hurt less."

A raised voice.

"You've changed since we came back from...from Tartarus."

"Yeah, a place like that'll change a person."

"No. No, no, no, this isn't about that. No, this is about Nico, isn't it? Fuck! I knew I should've kept an eye on him. He's been all over you ever since he came out!"

"He has not! Shit, I thought you supported him!"

"I do! Just not when he's trying to steal my boyfriend!"

"He hasn't stolen anything, Annabeth! You lost me!"

Shattered glass.

"Percy. Percy wait-"

"I'm leaving, get off me."

"Wait! P-Please wait, we can- I can fix this, just wait-!"

"Goodbye, Annabeth."

"Wait, I just need-, I need time to think!"

"For fucks sake, you can't think your way out of this."

"No, please! I can-, I can fix this, I can fix you!"

Splintered wood.

"I never needed to be fixed. I needed to be accepted."

Locked door.

~~~~~

Percy heaves a heavy sigh. He speaks again, slightly muffled into the hip of the boy he's holding.

Well, man now, Percy thinks.

"You...I don't know why, but you make me feel safe."

Nico chuckles at that, light and airy. The 3am delirium must be getting to him.

"You just broke up with your girlfriend of, what was it? 5...6 years? And I'm the only one that's 100% on your side, of course you feel safe with me." Nico dissolves back into giggles at that and Percy soon joins him.

"No no no! It's differennnt!" he says, chest rumbling with giddiness.

"How is it 'differennnt'?" Nico mocks in a lower voice, and they both laugh at his poor impression until they're gasping for breath. 

"I do not talk like that-!"

"You totally do."

As their laughter fizzles out, they feel more than listen to each other's breathing even out. Nico goes back to stroking Percy's hair, crown to nape, lightly scratching from time to time.

"Seriously though," Nico says,"how is it different?"

The night is quiet, save for the stray harpy screech or the crash of waves against a shore, and Nico waits patiently for Percy to answer him.

"I just…," Percy starts, and Nico listens.

I never feel like I have to hide from you. When I'm with you, I don't feel like I have to cater to this idealistic version of myself that everyone seems to have created in their heads. To you, I'm not "Perseus Jackson, Son of Poseidon, Hero & Saviour of Olympus". I'm Just Percy.

"With you, I feel raw," he says, his throat tight. Nico starts to shift but Percy holds him tighter.

"Hey, hey, I'm not going anywhere, just let me…" Percy's arms give a little and Nico moves further down the bed so that his upper back is supported by the pillows behind him as he cradles Percy's head to his chest. Percy takes a deep breath and when he lets it go, it's shuddering rhythm moves through the both of them like thunder in a storm.

"I just, I can't keep faking everything, you know? I can't keep pretending like I haven't been affected by the shit I've gone through. It's like half the camp sees me as some great hero who can do no wrong, and the other half expects me to be this-, this stupid jokester that's completely clueless to serious situations and it's so infuriating," he says,"especially with Annabeth. I've had to put on this mask of indifference for nearly 4 years since we got out. I've hidden almost every genuine emotion I've had. I can't do it anymore." he finishes with a huff, and with a start, Nico realizes that the front of his shirt is soaked through with tears.

Curse Percy for being a silent crier.

"Aw, mio tesoro, look at me," Nico says. He gently guides Percy's face up, cupping his cheeks and lightly brushing away the steadily falling tears. They make eye contact, bright green against deep brown, looking into each other's souls.

"You will never have to hide your true self from me."

A dam seems to break inside of Percy as his tears start falling faster. Nico just holds him, tries to sooth him as best as he can. Sometimes that's all you can do, Nico knows that. So he strokes his hair and waits.

After what feels like hours, Percy calms down. His eyes have dried up and he lets out a sniffle every few minutes.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Nico says,"I never liked this shirt anyways."

"What? No, no, not for crying on you," Percy moves to look at Nico's soft smile, tightening his arms around him as if he was afraid Nico would disappear.

"I'm sorry I can't be what you want me to be right now."

Nico's hand falters for a second before picking back up. 

"What do you wanna be?"

"I-"

Yours, Percy thinks. But I don't know if I deserve you yet.

"I don't know. But I don't want you to go."

"Trust me," Nico chuckles,"I'm not going anywhere."

"But, you've waited so long already and-"

"-and I can wait a little longer, love," Nico says. "I don't wanna force anything on you, ok? If you want more of a relationship than we have right now then that's cool. But it has to be something you genuinely want. Don't focus on me. Focus on yourself."

Percy is speechless. Not for the first time, he wonders how Nico can be so young yet so wise.

Lots of emotional pain, probably, his mind supplies. He doesn't want to think about who or what might've caused that so instead, he snuggles his face back into Nico's ruined shirt, dryer than it was before.

"Thank you," he says into Nico's chest.

"Anytime."

Nico cradles his head, and as they drift off to sleep, Percy lets himself be relieved that he can trust Nico with the knowledge of every single piece of him, and can let the layers upon layers of mask and shadow be peeled away like a roselily in bloom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tag list: @readwithlivvy @darkastcookies

(also, constructive criticism on this is totally cool, i feel like i didnt do a good job on this one lol)

[7wanderingpaws]

Simply, yours (12)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings: mentions of death, cursing

A/N: a moodboard! Yay! Finally some face to the story ^^ in my head baek looks like on the pics in this one hihi. Couple of more interesting things will happen! Aaaand this series will finish by 15th chapter. Or less. I will see how much time I will have. :( Anyway, thank you all sososososooo much for the support and comments, it means THE WORLD! ❤

tags:  @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @shesdreaminginoverdose @cynthbee @jummyjammy @junmyeonnoona @littleflowercrown13 @sebootyforlife​ (if you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know!)

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12

Baekhyun was stressed. That much you could tell.

The competition between the universities was in couple of days and he-

“Chanyeol, I can't hang out! I still didn't hand in my paper on the sports psychology thing and I have to head to uni in a couple for the training!”

You were in the kitchen, trying to bake some muffins since you were craving like a mad man, and you could hear him pacing around the bedroom where he bunked the whole day to finish off the mentioned paper. He had been a bit distant since the past three-four days, and you gave him his space, knowing he wasn't taking any silly things from anyone right now. He was full on focused and, well, quite biting to whomever tried to help.

He sighed again. “Listen, I know we still have time to hand it in, but I am so busy with the university team that I need to finish it earlier. Fuck, the assistant master is also breathing on my neck. You need to understa-”

He went quiet when Chanyeol interrupted him, and you silently continued separating the dough to the empty holes on the baking pan.

It had now been two weeks since the Korean New Year and another check-up at the clinic, after which you started to attend pilates classes for the expecting women. You had classes two times per week in the evening hours and one of them clashed with Baekhyun's hapkido class at the university, so you weren't accompanying him that often anymore, which was also a small relief for you. As much as your presence there didn't change matters, you felt like a bothersome girlfriend that needed to keep an eye on him, which was not true. Let alone Jiyoung, although had not necessarily done anything, still made you uneasy with her straight-forward behaviour with Baekhyun. You trusted him, though. After the Korean New Year, you got rid of the whole jealousy nonsense and focused solely on yourself and your own peace of mind. After all, it was literally a matter of a few months and your life would become loud, tiring and just overall turnt upside down.

“And you know I've got other stuff to get taken care of.” Silence. “You know what I'm talking about.” You giggled to yourself, liking how Baekhyun was losing his cool with his best friend, not paying attention to the meaning of his words.

You placed the baking pan in the oven and set up the temperature and timer, finally standing up properly, and hissing at the pain in your lower back. 

These days, whenever you looked in the mirror at your tummy and the dark stretch marks, you couldn't help but wonder how was this humanly possible; to bear three kids in your own body, in that little place under your heart. It blew your mind, and usually you would end up talking about this with Baekhyun just before sleeping when the lights were out and you were curled up at his side.

“Just proves how fucking amazing you are, my love,” he would murmur in your ear.

You smiled to yourself, your heart fluttering at the recollection and you sat down, checking your phone. A new customer who was buying your knitted clothings, was supposed to come by any minute now, so you might as well rest till she arrived, and let Baekhyun deal with his own issues.

You found a message from the lady waiting for you, so you opened it quickly, thinking she might have cancelled on you.

Hello! I was supposed to pick up the ordered knits today, but I can't make it unfortunately, so my husband will come at the promised time instead! Thank you!

Okay, at least she didn't cancel. You didn't care who would come for them as long as they were taken and paid for.

“Okay, Chanyeol, I will meet you tomorrow,” Baekhyun finally ended the call after more discussion and then you heard another heavy sigh. It caused pain for you too, knowing you couldn't help and you also didn't have a constant, stable pay so that you could ease it up for him just a little bit. Great at uselessne- no. You wouldn't allow yourself those thoughts anymore.

“Babe, you good?” you shouted.

“Yeah.”

“Doesn't sound very convincing,” you muttered to yourself, just when the doorbell rang. You struggled up to your feet and headed for the intercom, letting the person in.

“That's the customer, right?” asked Baekhyun from the bedroom.

You made your way to the door, the little bag with necessary clothes prepared, as you shouted back a yes before sliding the door open and waiting for the person to leave the elevator.

You were excited to earn money like this, even if it was just a little bit. You could shop groceries with it and Korea did have expensive fruit and veggies, unfortunately, so this came extremely handy to you.

Quickly shooting a look behind you, you double-checked if everything looked decent and clean in the apartment before turning back just to get the biggest shock.

Without even thinking, you had the urge to slam the door shut in his face before he could properly orient himself on the new floor of apartments, but you didn't do it. Instead, you ran your tongue over your teeth, preparing for a painful smile.

He turned and he spotted you - he just looked at your stomach - standing in the doorway, ready to walk to you resolutely before he actually brought his eyes up to yours. And he momentarily froze, stopping on the spot.

Silence overtook the cold corridor, and you felt the stress creeping up in your stomach, except you had nothing to fear this time. It was him who wanted something. And Baekhyun was right in the apartment in case anything happened.

“I believe you came to pick up the knits?” Your voice was almost foreign to you, it was strained so much.

His eyes fell lower, seeing just how pregnant you were; your body a far cry from when he last saw you. Clearing his throat, he replied: “Yes, I am.”

Slowly, he walked over and you pushed your hand with the bag out for him to take, wanting him to just leave. “Here. That will be 120.000 won, please.”

Your ex-boss stared at you, not taking the bag for a couple of heartbeats. He monitored your face before his eyes looked behind you at the humble apartment. Only after that, he took it while with his other hand he reached behind taking out his wallet probably from the pockets of his trousers. “Yes, I have the exact amount.”

“Good.”

He snapped his eyes back to you, as he took out the necessary cash before handing it to you. “How are you?”

Oh, dear lord. Not the small talk, please.

“I mean, are you doing well and healthy?”

You stared at him, hoping the negative emotions didn't mirror in your eyes too much, as you didnt want to become someone like him. “I'm fine and healthy, thank you for asking.”

“That's a relief.”

Suppressing a scoff, you were about to put an end to this fruitless conversation when you heard shuffling from behind, and Baekhyun's voice. “Is everything alright?” And he appeared.

He walked to your side, shock evident on his face. “You?”

You felt a protective hand around your waist, your boyfriend pushing you further inside the house, not liking an inch your evil boss being near your vicinity.

Your boss, Mr Kim, gave him a tight lipped smile. “Hello, Mr Byun. My wife is the one buying the knits from your wif- girlfriend.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “She wrote me just a couple of minutes ago that her husband would pick them up instead of her,” you explained to Baekhyun, who didn't even look at you, his strict gaze focused on your boss, “and it turns out to be Mr Kim. There are too many Kims in this country, for sure.”

“Well, we hope your wife will enjoy them,” said Baekhyun coldly. “Have a good evening.”

He was about to push both of you back inside to close the door, but your boss surprised you. Again. “I just wanted to… wish you all the best. I hope you will continue having a safe pregnancy and birth.”

You frowned, but nodded nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“And… I apologise.”

Baekhyun's grip on you tightened. “For what exactly?”

Mr Kim looked in your eyes as he seemed to think over his words. “I was acting unprofessional and it was not acceptable. Me sacking you due to your state was not justifiable, and I realize that I probably created even bigger financial difficulties for you. You always mentioned how money comes in handy and yet…” he shook his head, scrunching his eyebrows, “it was all a terrible mistake. I was insensitive. I apologise.”

You took in a shaky breath, your palms sweaty with anxiety as you let his words properly sink in. He actually uttered those words. Those apologetic words. The words you never imagined he would say, because you believed he was incapable of feeling anything close to regret and sorrow.

Sensing your hesitation, Baekhyun spoke up. “I think it's too late for that. But thank you. I bet my girlfriend appreciates your realizations.”

“Why suddenly?” You asked before Baekhyun could push you further inside the apartment. “I worked so hard for you. I always tried to please you yet I received hate.”

Something flashed in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite name. Was it hurt? Was it sorrow? Pain? “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I was ruthless, but just know that I am sorry.” He looked at Baekhyun now. “I deserved the punch.” With a sad smile, he raised and dangled the bag in front of him as he took a step back. “I’m sure my grandchildren will love this. And my wife too. All the best,” he said and turned around, not letting you and Baekhyun speak.

And you wouldn’t even be able to, because Baekhyun closed the door right after muttering: “Get home safely.”

“What was that?” You asked, shell-shocked at the sudden turn of events. “Did this really happen?”

You were still squeezing the bank notes in your sweaty palms and you moved to put them on the dining table, Baekhyun hot on your heels. “He is crazy. One moment he is shouting at you, calling you all kinds of things and the next he is sorry and acts like…whatever” he trailed off, in the heat of a moment unable to think of a proper word.

You shot him a look, amused. “I know. But at least he realized his mistake.”

Baekhyun pursed his lips, not fully convinced with your words but eventually he murmured: “At least if some other employee gets pregnant he won’t throw her out.”

You smiled, satisfied with his way of thinking. “Exactly.”

“And you earned yourself some money,” he reciprocated the smile and he came to you to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Well done.”

“I’ve been earning money through this for some time now,” you reminded him.

“I know but it’s his money.”

“Oh.”

“Exactly.”

-

Once the muffins were out of the oven, you decided to call Sukyeong. Baekhyun retrieved to your shared bedroom to continue his studying. He needed the peace anyway, and you really wanted to chat to your good friend because you had way too many thoughts and questions about your ex-boss’s well being. The way he acted was so unlike him.

Sukyeong thankfully picked up after the third ring and she squealed into the phone upon seeing your name. “Finally! I thought you would never call! We saw each other two weeks ago, don't tell me you got suddenly busy!”

You let out a breathy laugh. “No, I became lazy and almost immobile by now, thank you for the concerns.”

“I think I will have to drop by more often,” she thought out loud. “Besides, I also want to talk about something!”

“Eh? What is it?”

“Nah, this needs to be told face to face.”

Since your topic seemed to be just a little bit more intriguing than Sukyeong’s secretiveness, you decided to go with it and spill the beans. You quickly explained to her what just happened, feeling more encouraged by her gasps.

“Well, there is something that happened actually,” she said after a bit of silence. After you left your job, you and Sukyeong rarely ever talked about the workplace, Sukyeong only complaining about the workload and whatnot. She was such a kind-hearted, considerate friend to you; she knew by default the last person you want to talk about was your screwed up boss. “I just didn't know if I should tell you or not, since it doesn't really include you anymore and also…” she trailed off, “it might scare you.”

You frowned, fingering the little whole in the pillow you were hugging to yourself. “Scare me? What are you talking about?” you let out a doubtful laugh.

Sukyeon sighed and you imagined her playing with her fringe to ease up the nerves. “You know his son is married, right?”

“Mhm.” You rarely paid attention to your boss's private life but you were aware of that fact.

“So, anyway, Mr Kim's daughter-in-law was pregnant and she was supposed to give birth just one month after you left,” she continued on, her words still not bearing an ounce of confidence.

You interrupted her, though. “Oh, really? So why didn't he fire his daughter-in-law, huh?! How dare she be pregnant?! God, that man is ridiculous, I swear. Poor daughter-in-law! How difficult it must be for her to live with him!”

“Erm,” Sukyeong gently called out your name, trying to get your attention, which she did but you wished she didn't as her next words gave you the nausea you had been dreading to have your entire pregnancy. “She died giving birth.”

You went completely silent at that, your mind empty and busy all at the same time. His daughter-in-law died giving birth to his grandchild. She died. Giving birth. “How did that happen?” you breathed out.

“Complications during birth. Unexpected high blood pressure, high sugar levels and many other factors,” she replied, her voice sad.

“Jesus,” you breathed out again, “I had no clue.”

“You couldn't have known, dear.”

Tears burned in your eyes at the thought of how tragic the whole story is. So this was why he was apologetic. “But still… I'm so sorry. To her, and even to him - Mr Kim.”

Sukyeong heaved out a heavy sigh. “Don't cry, I cannot comfort you over the phone like this. You wouldn't know!”

“What if I will die?”

“You won't,” she snapped right away. “You are a healthy woman.”

“You know my blood-pressure is also dangerously high at times.”

“But that doesn't change the fact that you are healthy. You don't have problems with your sugar levels, nor is your entire pregnancy problematic.” She paused, before she continued. “Listen, this is why I was reluctant to tell you. I didn't want to trigger any fear in you. Just don't think about it.”

You felt your chin quiver, but you pushed it down. Sukyeong was right. Plus, Baekhyun really didn't need this kind of stress when he already had too much on his plate right now. Having to suck it up and be brave for your own self for once was something you should have started doing a while ago. You always knew pregnancy was a risk. But you wanted to show everyone that not having enough money and still bearing three healthy babies and eventually giving them birth was something more valuable than any monetary aspect of this world.

“You are right, Sukyeonga. I won't. But you owe me a hot chocolate.”

-

It was around 1am. You were lying on your side, naked back facing Baekhyun as he absentmindedly traced his fingertips over the imprints on your back, left there by your bra. He was shuffling around more, until he resolved to skinship in hopes to ease his mind.

“What's on your mind?” you asked quietly out of nowhere, startling him for a second. He thought you would be asleep by now.

You turned around to your other side, curling up against his chest and he gladly opened his arms for you, missing your presence. It was common that you two would naturally shift apart during the night, both of you deep in sleep, but because of your pregnancy you also felt many times boiling hot which resulted in you scooting as far away from his body heat as the mattress allowed. This time though, the night was exceptionally cold and you knew he needed you.

“Baby, you should be resting,” he rasped quietly.

You held his cheek gently, looking up at him, although he couldn't see you properly in the darkness. “There is something bothering my man,” you whispered, “and I can't sleep when I know you are this troubled.”

He sighed, and you could feel the heaviness of it, the worries somehow too difficult to bear. “It's just a lot on my plate,” he admitted, though very reluctantly. “I want our team to win or at least make it very far but I'm worried I am asking for too much.” His hand was caressing your back, enjoying the hot skin covering it.

“What makes you think that?”

He went silent, contemplating your question and his answer to it. The truth was, Baekhyun's head was very chaotic which rarely happened. Him, who always had a goal clearly set in his mind, never got this worried. “I don't even know. It's the PhD stuff together with this Universiad competition… both require my full attention and even though I am doing my best, I feel like I could still do better.”

It meant a lot that he was this outspoken. He shared his daily issues with you, however only the heavy ones he would let pile up and mull over them until he couldn't bear it anymore.

“My perfectionist boy,” you cooed. “Everything is created in your mind, darling. Everything is still the same as before - you are a student and as your side job you teach kids. Your team was always doing well and that's why you got this opportunity. In fact, you don't need to change anything. You have addition of Jiyoung and her team, that's true, but that still doesn't change the fact that what you did until now is enough. It is all valuable. You're not asking for too much, Baekhyun.”

A couple of heartbeats later you heard him sigh again as he squeezed your body to his, your tummy pressing to his side. “Thank you,” he murmured into your hair.

“Don't keep it in. I know it's difficult. I know, honey.”

“I just want to do well, you know? Do well in my professional life. And I want to do everything in my power to make you and our kids live comfortably.”

You felt stinging behind your eyes, touched and overwhelmed with emotions. “You are doing more than enough, Baekhyun. I'm comfortable and happy because I have you. Out of our entire village, you are the superstar. You are the one who made it. Don't doubt yourself for one second, because I will love you no matter what. You are doing already more than enough, so relax.”

He chuckled lowly. “What would I do without you, hm?” he whispered and he moved to bury his face in your neck, slowly kissing down to your chest where he rested his head under your collarbones. His arm around you was now caressing the bump, his thumb running over the stretched out belly. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Don't thank me.That's what I'm here for. For you. In good and in bad,” you replied as you played with his messy hair.

“Already doing the wedding vows?”

You grew hot, the sudden images of a wedding ceremony with Baekhyun warming your heart. “Not yet.”

He hummed. “But soon.”

“After the kids are born.”

“Where do you want to leave them for our honeymoon? They would be always tied to your boobs. That way I can't have them just for myself.”

That made you laugh out loud, and you pulled on his hair gently, making him chuckle. He raised his head and you felt his breath on your smiling lips. “Then you better enjoy them until you can.”

He kissed you slowly, languidly, humming in the process while dragging his hand over your bump and chest until he was cupping your cheek. “I should, huh,” he murmured into your open mouth. “Though I beg for priority. I was the first to claim them.”

You laughed again and Baekhyun felt extremely satisfied, his worries settled for now. He brought you in for another sensual kiss until both of your eyes were droopy enough to pull to sleep.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Please more of artist Jamie!!! So beautiful!

Follow up to this story

--

January 1976

 Elias Pound had known Mandy MacKenzie for all of fourmonths – but he already knew he’d gladly follow her anywhere.

 So when she proposed they spend an evening at a downtownart gallery – in a neighborhood she called SoHo (“But we have one of those inLondon,” he had protested – and she’d replied “This one has a capitalized H,silly goose”) – he immediately leapt at the chance to be with her. Even if itmeant following her on the subway (“Don’t you have one of those in London?” shehad teased), gaping at the half-beautiful, half-terrifying graffiti scrawledover the walls and seats and windows and exterior of the cars, stepping around thegarbage and panhandlers on the platform at Times Square and Grand Central whenthey transferred from the 1 to the Shuttle and then to the 6.

 Once above ground at Spring Street, he thought she’d madea mistake – for the neighborhood appeared to be stone dead, even at arelatively early hour.

 “Where is everybody?” Elias dug his hands into thepockets of his peacoat, pulse rocketing from a mix of fear and sheer joy asMandy slipped her mitten-clad hand through his arm.

 “Barely anyone lives down here,” she explained, lookingboth ways before stepping off the curb. “It’s mostly artists and galleries.They love the big old buildings – fantastic twenty-foot ceilings in the rooms.”

 A cab appeared out of nowhere, horn blaring. Mandy tuggedhis arm to stop – and the cab squealed by, the driver hurling obscenities.Calmly Mandy kept walking down Broadway, turning right onto Prince Street.

 “And how did you find out about this exhibit?”

 His eyes darted over to her; she just smiled and keptwalking.

 “Here we are!”

 And they were – for in the first sign of life since they’dleft the subway, a line snaked out of an industrial metal doorway and aroundthe corner. Elias could only see a tiny sign above the door – The Broch Gallery – and a burly man outfront, clearly the security guard.

 Elias steeled himself to wait outside in the cold –regretting he hadn’t brought his knit cap – but then Mandy marched right up tothe man at the door.

 “Hi – I’m Mandy MacKenzie,” she explained. “Elias here ismy guest. I should be on the list.”

 The man fished in his pocket and produced an index card;he squinted, looked up at Mandy, and nodded. “All set, miss. Coat check is onyour left.”

 “Thank you,” she smiled sweetly, taking Elias’ hand anddrawing him inside.

 A woman wearing black took their coats and handed themeach a small booklet. Before Elias could even glance at the cover, they turned anothercorner and came face-to-face with a panel of text on a gallery wall.

 JAMES FRASER: ART WITHOUT LIMIT, 1920-1975 – A RETROSPECTIVE

 Elias could see several dozen people milling around in atleast six adjacent galleries, sipping champagne, studying the walls intently.

 “Who’s James Fraser?” he whispered.

 Mandy looped her arm through his. “Someone I’ve admiredmy whole life. You’ll see why. Don’t bother reading the labels – I’ll be yourtour guide.”

 And she was.

 The first gallery displayed small pastels and watercolorsof New York City street scenes in the 1920s – old cars rumbling down widestreets, women in elegant dresses pushing old-fashioned baby carriages onsidewalks, children playing tag on a gorgeous summer day in Prospect Park, ruddy-facedmen toasting their joy in cavernous long-gone beer halls.

 These were interspersed with photographs. A combinationof society portraits and even more street scenes.

 “Is that the Flatiron Building?”

 “It is. Can you believe that it wasn’t yet twenty years oldwhen this photograph was taken? Even then it was still so controversial.”

 Elias tilted his head at a series of three of formal,posed paintings of different women. “Who were they?”

 “Wives of wealthy businessmen and lawyers.” Mandy noddeda thank-you to the woman who offered a tray of snacks. “He made a good livingas a portraitist. Back in the day, that was a way for men to show how muchmoney they had – by paying an artist to paint their wives. Even after photographybecame popular – they still insisted on it.”

 Elias chewed thoughtfully. “I’d think it still is a wayfor men to show how much money they have. Someone I went to school with – I rememberthere was a painting of his mother in the house. I never quite understood it.”

 Mandy led them to the next room – and Elias’ jaw justabout dropped.

 It was another portrait – but so radically different fromwhat he had just seen.

 A beautiful woman – her curly brown hair rioting aroundher ethereal face – wearing a dress that could only be described as anincredible shade of electric blue. Surrounded by sumptuous plants andblue-and-white Chinese porcelain. Strongly, confidently facing the viewer – a hintof mischief evident on her perfect lips.

 “It’s incredible, isn’t it?” Mandy squeezed his hand. “Thiswas the first work that truly got him noticed.”

 “I should think so,” Elias breathed. “She’s – she’s so alive. So much more alive and presentthan in what we saw in the other room.”

 “The artistry is without comparison,” Mandy agreed. “But thescandal that surrounded the painting made it even more notorious.”

 “Scandal? What scandal? It’s a modest dress.”

 She shook her head. “This portrait was commissioned byFrank Randall, on the occasion of his wife Claire’s thirtieth birthday, in thefall of 1925.”

 “Frank Randall? As in Randall Steel? That Randall?”

 “The same,” she grinned. “Anyway – Claire Randall wasvery famous in New York society at the time for throwing very grand parties attheir townhouse on East Sixty-Eighth Street. Somehow James Fraser got aninvitation to one of their parties – and once Frank learned he was an artist,he commissioned him to paint Claire.”

 “I don’t see what’s so scandalous about that.”

 Mandy smirked above her flute of champagne. “Well – you canimagine that Claire got to know the artist quite well as he painted herportrait. So well that when the painting was delivered to the Randalltownhouse, she told Frank she was leaving him, packed her bags, and moved inwith Jamie.”

 “Oh my God!” Elias exclaimed. “Did she take the portraitwith her?”

 “Of course! It hung in Jamie’s studio on East TwelfthStreet for many years.”

 “And did they stay together?”

 Mandy set down her empty flute on a passing waiter’s tray,and took Elias’ half-empty flute. “See for yourself.”

 The next gallery was full of Claire Randall. Oilpaintings of her draped in a Japanese kimono. Pastel drawings of her reclining nudein bed, surrounded by rumpled sheets. Striking, black-and-white photographs ofher hands forming different shapes, and the curve of her spine, and the back ofher neck.

 “She was his muse,” Elias murmured.

 Mandy nodded. “My favorite is right over there.”

 It was a small photograph – just about as big as aletter-sized sheet of paper. At the bottom right of the frame was a reflectionof the old-style camera; at the middle of the frame was Claire caught mid-laugh;and peeking over her shoulder was a man – hair parted down one side, eyescreasing with laughter.

 “It’s called Joy;he took the photograph on their wedding day,” Mandy whispered. “In a publicbathroom at City Hall. Probably ten minutes after they exchanged vows.”

 Elias swallowed, his heart soaring at the explosion oflove and adoration captured so simply and elegantly in the photograph.

 “I’m surprised Randall gave her a divorce.”

 “Apparently she threatened to go to the papers with proofof all his affairs. My understanding is that it was settled quite quickly.”

 He wanted to know more – so very much more – but sheushered him into the next gallery.

 Here the artist’s style had clearly matured; thecityscapes were bolder in outline, brighter in their use of color.

 “He immigrated from Scotland as a very young man. But NewYork City has always been his home. His art documents what it’s like to livehere.”

 It did – subways, and buses, and even photographs ofairplanes landing at Kennedy or LaGuardia. Interspersed with photographs ofClaire as she got older – still smiling, now in color – in what appeared to bethe same East Twelfth Street studio.

 Before he knew it, they were in the last gallery. Whichheld a single artwork – another painting of Claire, posed almost identically asshe had been in the scandalous portrait. Surrounded by ferns, and Chineseporcelain; wearing another electric blue dress. Her face had more wrinkles, andher hair was gray – but she was still so vibrantly alive.

 Mandy withdrew her arm, but he didn’t realize she hadcompletely left his side until an unfamiliar voice spoke beside him.

 “Personally I prefer this one to the older one.”

 “I’d have to agree,” Elias remarked, turning to his newneighbor. “In fact – ”

 He froze.

 “It’s you,” he croaked.

 Claire Fraser – hair still curly after all these years,wearing a bright green dress and gorgeous silver jewelry – smiled.

 “It’s me,” she agreed. “Jamie painted this one to commemoratemy eightieth birthday last October – and, of course, the fiftieth anniversarysince the first one.”

 “Oh my God,” Elias breathed. “I – you – um, you are verybeautiful.”

 Then Mandy appeared, and slung an arm around Claire’sside. “Are you flirting with my grandma?”

 “Grandma?”

 “Come on, Mandy – you’ll make the poor man suffer a heartattack right here. I thought you told me you liked him.”

 Stupidly Elias stuck out one hand. “I’m Elias Pound.”

 Claire laughed. “Yes, I know. Mandy’s told us all aboutyou. You study engineering together, right?”

 “Always had a head for numbers, that one.” An older manappeared beside Claire, and kissed her cheek. “Just like our daughter – her Mam.God knows where she got that from.”

 Claire nodded at Elias. “Jamie, this is Elias.”

 Elias gulped. “H-hi,” he stammered.

 “Ach, no need to be shy, lad! I dinna bite.” Jamie Fraserheartily clapped Elias’ shoulder. “So – do ye like the paintings?”

 “Be honest,” Mandy teased.

 Elias cleared his throat. “I – um – yes. I’m stillgetting to know New York, and it’s so interesting to see how your workdocuments how the city has changed.”

 Jamie looked over at his granddaughter, one still-redeyebrow raised. “Very astute observation. Good that he appreciates things thataren’t numbers.”

 Mandy groaned. “Be nice, Grand-da. We go to museums allthe time – we get in for free with our student IDs.”

 Elias cleared his throat. “Also, sir, your work is one ofthe most honest and pure representations of love that I’ve ever seen. I – I can’tquite describe it, but I can just feelit pouring out of the frame. It makes my heart race. And that’s something thathasn’t changed – am I right?”

 Jamie and Claire and Mandy – she had Jamie’s eyes, herealized – looked at him, eyes wide. Quietly Mandy stepped forward to take hishand, squeezing it. So proud.

 “Thank you,” Jamie whispered, drawing Claire to his side.“You understand. She’s everything.”

 “Yes,” Elias agreed, looking at Mandy. “She is.” 

[eccentriccowboy]

Assassin// pt. 1

Synopsis: ‘To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before’ inspired story where y/n and her best friends Luke, Calum, Ashton, and Michael compete in a game of Assassin.

you do not need to have read TATBILB to get this, it’ll be explained. But basically assassin is like tag where you have a specific target, but someone else is also targeting you. The game occurs in all hours in all places, unless otherwise disclosed as a safe zone. If you get tagged you are eliminated while the person who tagged you takes your target, tracking and chasing each other until there is one survivor.

Pairing: Slow burn relationship between bestfriend!Luke and Y/N (seems to be my specialty huh)

Warnings: swearing probably knowing me. also i didnt proofread this

Word Count: 1.7 k

Notes: i finally had time to write today bc school was cancelled today because of a hurricane warning WOOP WOOP I MIGHT DIE BUT AT LEAST I WONT HAVE MATH HOMEWORK.

*****

Rules:

1. Every house/apartment and workspace is a safe zone for all players.

2. A player is only eliminated when both the tracker’s hands are rested somewhere on the target’s body.

3. You can only kill your target, you can make alliances with someone, but you cannot make the kill for them.

4, Alliances are per round(until you/your alliance get out one or both of your target). After that you must either go separate ways or you can negotiate another alliance.

5. Winner gets to ask whatever they want of one of the losers.

6. No hard feelings and definitely no sore losers.

*****

“I’m not leaving my house, that’s how I’ll win,” Luke decided. Before you could correct him on how awful of a plan that was, he realized his mistake. “Wait, no, shit, that wouldn’t work,” he furrowed his eyebrows, clearly conflicted on what to do. 

“Don’t even bother coming up with a plan, I’ll get you out before you come up with step one,” Michael bragged. You rolled your eyes at that one.

“You shouldn’t be talking, mister. Remember last year when you were first out?” you smugly chided.

Michael’s face fell for a moment, before deciding to tease you back.

“Hey, at least I’ve won a year,” he remarked, subtly reminding you of how through the 15 years of playing Assassin with your four childhood best friends, you’ve never won once. “Four, actually,” he smirked, before getting off your couch to head to the fridge.

“Think you’re forgetting almighty Ashton over here, mates,” Ashton said, including himself in the conversation. He stood up from his seat on the couch and raised his hands in the air, pretending like a crowd was chanting his name. “Ashton, Ashton, Ashton...” he mumbled jokingly.

You giggled at your foolish friend’s behaviour. “You won’t even know what hitcha this time. I’m telling ya this is my year,” you nodded your head, not sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

Luke smiled at you, always the optimist. Luke had won the least amount of games over the years, besides you. He has only ever won twice, whereas Michael has won four, Calum’s won three, and Ashton has remained reigning champ with six wins.

“Never late for a comeback, Y/N,” Luke slung his arm around you casually, rubbing your shoulder. You hoped to dear god he couldn’t hear your heartbeat quicken as you leaned in to his embrace.

You don’t honestly know when you developed feelings for Luke, you just know they weren’t good. You have been friends with him since first grade, it’s not like you can throw away such a valuable friendship for a stupid relationship that wouldn’t ever work.

Instead, you calmed down your heartbeat as best as you could and hugged Luke back, accepting the fact a relationship would never work. It was a sweet moment, though, embracing Luke no matter your relationship status

“Can’t make a comeback when you can’t even win once!” Michael yelled from the kitchen, ruining the moment. You sighed, before getting up from the couch to grab a piece of paper and a pen to write the names on.

“Where ya goin’?” Luke asked, missing your warm embrace.

“Gotta write the names down somewhere,” you replied, opening your desk drawer. 

“Thought we were gonna wait ‘til Calum gets here,” he questioned.

You shrugged. “Gonna get a head start. Also wanna rig it so I get Michael’s name first.”

*****

Once Calum had arrived, you had already prepared the pieces of paper in a large hat for you guys to pick from. 

“Ready to be beaten to ground, losers?” Michael started again.

“No time for smack talk, let’s just get this over with so I can win,” you said. You shook the hat to scramble the papers, then one at a time you each selected a paper.

You grabbed the last paper, holding it close to your chest where no one but you could see what it said.

‘Michael”.

You tried your best to keep a straight face, while analyzing your competitor’s expressions. Calum and Luke both had on poker faces, while Ashton and Michael smirked at their slip of paper.

“Well this is gonna be fun,” Ashton remarked.

*****

You wanted to wait a while to kill Michael, as you basically had all the time in the world. Hell, these games could go on forever. In 2015, the game last over three months before Calum finally got Michael out.

And the longer you wait, the other guys will start attacking each other and dwindle themselves down, leaving less work for you to do. You just had to stay careful and not get caught by your attacker.

You devised a plan: you would only cook at home or order in for the duration of the game, you’ll switch up the route you drive to work every weekday. Say goodbye to a social life for a while because you aren’t going out anytime soon. But you will keep your eyes open if an opportunity arrises to strike Michael.

It continued like this for a week, and nobody made any moves. Everyone seemed to be keeping to themselves, hiding themselves from the rest. As far as you know, no alliances had been made, either.

As the days passed by and the game remained static, you began to become antsy. You wanted to make a splash, a big move that will shock the other players. It was time to get creative.

By the end of the day, you had a devious plan. The plan took time, persuasion, and dedication, but oh boy would it be worth it when you got Michael out.

*****

You had snuck out of your apartment complex at 3 am last night in hopes your attacker wasn’t watching you. You then got into your car and drove in the dead of night to Michael’s apartment building. 

Now here’s the part of the plan that would take great dedication. You parked your car outside of the apartment complex, far enough away where Michael could not see the car if he looked out one of his windows. You wandered to the back alley behind the building, pepper spray in hand in case the worst was to occur.

With no one around, you grabbed your phone out of your purse and turned the flashlight on, shining it on the floor until you found what you were looking for: the garbage cans. 

You weren’t going to rummage through stranger’s trash, you weren’t insane. But you did merely open the lid and peer into the cans to see what food you might find. And there, laying at the top of the fourth garbage can you checked, were empty cardboard pizza boxes.

Dominoes. Michael’s favourite pizza place.

And there were 5 of them. Enough to last a grown man about a week and a half. Almost as if this mysterious man was living off of delivery pizza instead of going out.

This couldn’t be a coincidence. You knew Michael would be too lazy to cook his own food. Now you just needed to use this information to your advantage.

*****

“Psst!” you whisper shouted to the delivery man standing at the entrance to Michael’s apartment complex, waiting for access.

“Psst!” you whisper shouted a bit louder, finally gaining the man’s attention.

He looked at you, bewildered, his eyes shifting from you to the locked gate then back to you. Finally, he took a few timid steps in your direction, where you were hiding in a bush. 

“Um, yeah?” the man asked, clearly still uncertain about the potentially insane women hiding in a fucking bush.

“I need to ask you a favor,” you put your hands out in front of your body in attempt to show him you were harmless. “Hear me out, okay? I’m playing this game with my friends, it’s called assassin. It’s basically just a harmless game of tag. Your delivering this pizza to 22B, yea?”

The man looked at you skeptically, before murmuring out a yes.

“Okay, well you see, the guy who ordered the pizza, his name is Michael, I’ve got to tag him out. Will you help me out?” you continued before he could say no. “Your part is super simple. All you have to do is tell Michael the gate won’t let you in and see if he will step out to come get it. I can’t get him while he is in his home.”

The man continued to stare at you. “What’s in it for me?”

You shrugged, “Name your price.”

“100 bucks,” he shrugged back.

“50,” 

“60,”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes. “Just make sure he doesn’t see me, and if I don’t get him out, you don’t get paid.”

The man agreed to your terms, then called Michael back. “Hey, man, the electric gate’s giving me a bit of trouble. Do you mind coming downstairs to grab the pizza?” The man listened to Michael’s response, then looked at you and gave you a thumbs up.

“He’s coming down,” he said. You nodded, your heartbeat suddenly picking up. Oh god, what if you mess it up? 

You went back to your position in the bush, close enough to the gate entrance that you could jump out and place both of your hands on Michael easily.

As you waited for your unsuspecting friend to come downstairs, you reflected on the craziness you endured to get here. You stayed up until 3 am just to rifle through stranger’s garbage, for Pete’s sake! You deserved this win already.

Finally, you saw a tall man start walking to open up the gate. “Sorry, man, this happens all the time. I’m surprised it’s taken you this many deliveries this past week for it to finally happen to you,” Michael called out.

“No problem man, less work for me,” the worker chuckled. Michael opened the gate, suddenly distracted with trying to find the proper bills in his wallet. This was your chance. 

You lunged out of the bushes, your hands stretched in front of you. In the corner of Michael’s eye he saw a body of sudden movement, his head turning, but it was too late. Both of your palms landed on his left arm.

“AHA, take that!” You raised your hands in the air in victory. Michael clutched his head in his hands, in disbelief his game was over so soon.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, SHIT!” He uttered.

“What? Got no creative one-liners for this, huh?” You smirked.

“Yea, yea, just have fun with who you’ve gotta get next.”

Your ears perked at that. There’s still four other players blocking your way to victory.

“Who is it?” It was Michael’s turn to smirk now.

“Ashton.”

Well shit.