#lawn dresses online

[faisalabadfabricstoresblog]

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[ceilidho]

prompt: reader is hired as a live in house cleaner because ghost is always away and he only comes back on leave and he insists she stay in the guest room. Over time he increasingly acts like she’s his live in girlfriend or something. Very confusing for reader lmao.

-

The job comes at the exact right time. 

The way you stumble onto your new job is a bit dicey, if you’re being honest. You’ve been meaning to get out of the waitressing life for a while—the tips are shit and the number of times that you’ve had your backside pinched has slowly but steadily climbed into the double digits. You just haven’t had direction; somewhere to go. 

Your savior comes in the form of a six foot plus soldier. Oh, he doesn’t tell you that, but his body language speaks for itself. 

At first, even the sight of him makes your belly clench and palms sweat like when you watch rock climbing documentaries or parkour videos online (all moist and clammy and you have to wipe them on your jeans before shaking his hand). He’s a one-time customer at your little roadside diner that gradually becomes a repeat offender. 

He comes at odd times, sometimes disappearing for a month or two before he’s back to sitting in the booth at the back of the diner with his back against the wall. You smile shakily when you pour him coffee after coffee. He never eats. Always sits in the same booth, dressed in the same black hoodie that does nothing to hide the sheer size of him and a black surgical mask that he never removes. He has a sixth sense for when you’re watching him from behind the counter, waiting for him to take a sip.

You never do catch a glimpse of his face. Not completely anyway. You know him only by the faint smell of gunpowder and metal that clings to him like a second skin, and the feeling of his calloused hand against yours. 

Like ice slowly chipping off a glacier that one day cracks, a huge chunk splintering off and crashing into the sea, you know nothing about him until you’re suddenly in his house. Simon, he tells you, and the sound of his name awakens something in you. He needs a housekeeper and you need a reason to leave. 

You quit the diner; barely even put in a week’s notice. 

The day you drive up the long beaten road up to his property, a cabin deep in the English countryside, clear blue skies follow you. Clouds crisp, delicate even. Simon takes you through the house, showing you to the guest room where you’ll be staying while he’s away. He never directly confirms your suspicions, but the faint tightness around his eyes when he mentions his job tells you all you need to know. No wonder he needs someone to keep the house in order. Never around to do it himself.

Then he’s gone, swift as a ghost. You wake up in the guest room to a hastily scrawled note on your bedside table and a faint feeling of loss. 

You scrub tiles and dust the top bit of the fan that everyone always misses; you mow the lawn, clean the gutters, and sit under the shade of a poplar tree with a glass of lemonade in the early evenings. If you look up into the tree, you’ll see spiders and squirrel nests. It’s almost therapeutic. 

Weeks pass at a time. Simon reemerges like clear skies between periods of rain. Sometimes even before you wake up, you can feel the change like lighting sizzling in the air, crackling hot under your fingertips and then stumbling into the kitchen to find him leaning against the counter, coffee already brewing. You blush into an apology that he waves off.

Good soldier. Better boss. 

You fall into a routine, something of a cadence that is only interrupted by Simon’s hands on your hips when he moves you out of the way to grab a mug from the top shelf. His finger brushing over the curve of your cheekbone to wipe away flour smudged on your cheek. Then he’s gone again, passing through like a ghost. 

Perhaps he’s a more tactile man than you originally assumed. Something about the way he held himself in those first few weeks in the diner suggested otherwise, the way he seemed to radiate a latent hostility. Do not get close. You read this in the general slope of his eyebrows and the scars across his muscled forearms up until he reaches out to touch you, growing more and more comfortable with you around.

“You alright, love?” said into your ear on a warm night when Simon materializes onto the couch beside you, practically out of thin air. Your heart almost bursts in your chest. 

When you turn, he’s as beautiful as ever, honey burnt eyes staring out from behind a balaclava this time. Still dresses in his standard issue tactical pants, the faint smear of grime and gore around the ankles. There’s a lump in your throat when you smile. 

He smells richer now. Deeper, like the forest floor. Like crawling through mud and spider webs and a thick, cloying miasma of desperation. 

“Sorry—I didn’t know you’d be back,” you apologize, going to rise up to your feet. It feels wrong to commandeer his house when he’s on leave, even though you live here too.

A heavy hand on your shoulder pulls you down, settling you to his side. “Off your feet now—there you go, atta girl. No sense getting up; show’s not even done.” 

He angles you back to face the TV and tugs you into his lap almost effortlessly. You do not look back, even when you feel him slip the balaclava off, hot breath fanning over your neck. Not even when fingers play over the thin line of skin where your shirt rides up. You blink like your eyes are gummy and try not to shudder when his thumb dips underneath your shirt.

[fashidwholesale]

Ethnic clothes: Renowned for their breath-taking texture and designs

Sarees are one of the most prominent costumes that woman would want to opt for, be it in occasions or just to maintain traditions. This sort of draperies is loved and taken up by women from almost every corner of the world. Sarees are costumes that date back to the oldest days of human civilisation and they still continue to be some of the most popular among women everywhere. These are available in a vast range of materials and their designs too come in numbers.

Sarees in Indian and Pakistani cultures are quite popular and they give in for basic cultural traits of both theses countries. As a matter of fact, Pakistani women in the olden times were completely used to wear sarees as their staple clothing option. These sarees were majorly made up of silk and cotton and were breath-takingly beautiful. However, times have changed over the years and so did the choices of people. Thus, besides the crazy love for sarees, dresses and suits have also gained grounds. They are also quite popular among women in Pakistan because of their royal appearance and comfortable materials. Among all varieties of dresses, the Original Pakistani lawn suits have quite the popularity among the locals there. These are loved and opted for not only in Pakistan but all across the globe. The material that is especially used to stitch the lawn-suits are literallylightweight and breathable. They are just the right option for a hot and humid weather. However, the durability of these garments is worth a mention. They are indeed strong but also soft and tender on the skin.

Creating a completely fashionable and unique look on the wearer, theses dresses are just fit for any occasion that might be formal or even casual. Availing these dresses is no rocket science as they can be ordered online via Pakistani cotton dresses online. However not only one or two items, the feature of Wholesale sarees buy online is availed bythe businessmen and dealers at large. This holds up with the popularity of such lovely garments throughout the year.a

[rederiswrites]

You can train your tastes. You can choose what you see beauty in.

Lemme go further, actually. You are constantly doing so--or letting others do it for you.

Nearly two decades ago, when we were planning our wedding, I made a very firm decision not to look at any wedding planning magazines or anything with marketing material for wedding products. I wanted our wedding to be uniquely us, and I also wanted not to be bombarded by product advertisement and beautiful photo shoots of very expensive weddings. Consequently, maybe we wasted a little bit of time reinventing the wheel, but we had a wedding we were very happy with that only cost perhaps four thousand dollars at most, probably not that much, spread out over our finances and those of both our families. Our guests went home with live potted plants that we'd paid pennies for at end of season, our florist had a great time getting to design a bouquet that tested her skills because I didn't have any preconceived ideas, my dress was utterly unique--and I really do feel that those magazines would have had a corrosive effect on all that.

When we moved to this property three years ago, I spent a LOT of time looking at images online, trying to form a coherent vision for a property that was at the time a fairly blank slate. I found myself scrolling through a lot of Russian dacha Instagrams, of all things, and they unlocked something for me. Seeing the same homey make-do decorations and techniques I grew up around a continent away, the same plywood cutout old ladies and tractor tire flower planters, somehow chewed through that last binding cord of classism, and suddenly I saw the art in it. The expression of a desire to embellish and beautify, even when you have very little, even when all you can afford is things the more well-to-do consider trash. I saw the exuberance of human love for beauty in a brilliant flower bed planted next to a collapsing shed--it didn't need to be perfect to be worthwhile. They didn't wait til everything was pristine to start enjoying things. And now I earnestly and unironically covet my own version of the tractor-tire Christmas tree at the farm down the road.

We've spent centuries now idolizing the manicured estates and quaint country retreats of the European wealthy elites. We've turned thousands of miles of living ecosystem into grass deserts in service of this vision. We need to start deliberately retraining our tastes. Seek out images of a different idea of beauty and peace. I'm not telling you what it'll be. I'm telling you this is not involuntary. You can participate. You can look at the many beautiful examples of native xeriscaping for arid climates, or photos of chaotic tangles of wildflowers, tamed by narrow paths, a bench under an arbor overwhelmed with wisteria. Maybe instead of trying to get lawn to grown under your mature trees, you'd actually get far more joy out of a patch of dirt. A hammock. A firepit ringed with log sections for seats.

You can free yourself from harmful conventions of taste and beauty, and you do it through imagining something better.

[pakistanisalwarsuits01]

The Best Dresses in Mumbai Online

Mumbai is a popular location for international couples planning a destination wedding. One of the reasons people choose Mumbai as a wedding location is that it provides worldwide shopping and fashion brands at a reasonable price.

Mumbai is a fashionista's dream city as well as an international tourism attraction. Take a peek at what's new across the world and buy dresses for women online from these top stores! Dresses In Mumbai OnlineMumbai is a city that has the best of everything. From food to shopping, to entertainment, Mumbai is a destination that you cannot miss out on.

Dresses In Mumbai Online offer high-quality dresses at an affordable price. If you are planning on getting married in Mumbai or if you have been invited to a wedding in Mumbai, then check out these websites for your dress needs!

Best Online Retailers to Buy Dresses — Where to Shop Online

Online dress shopping is a trend that has been gaining popularity in the recent years. With the help of online retailers, consumers can find new and fashionable dresses at affordable prices. Buy the best Dresses In Mumbai Online

What are the Types of Indian Wedding Dresses?

Indian brides are known for their unique and beautiful wedding attire. The variety of Indian wedding dresses is endless.

As we move into the season of weddings, it is important to know what types of Indian bride dresses are trending this season.

So, let’s start with the most popular type — the A-line dress. It is a simple and elegant silhouette that can be dressed up with accessories like jewelry or a veil. A-line dresses are also perfect for long and lean figures as they elongate the body shape.

Next, we have another popular style — the mermaid dress which has a flowy skirt that falls to just above the knee, while still maintaining its shape as it flows down from the waist to the hemline. It also features a fitted bodice with a strapless.

Where to Buy Indian Wedding Dresses?

Weddings in India are one of the most important events in a person's life. It is a day when people desire to look their best and wear traditional Indian wedding attire.

It is not just about the attire you wear, but also about how you carry yourself on your wedding day. The correct clothing may make you feel secure and like royalty on your wedding day, allowing you to shine

It is not easy to find an ideal Indian wedding outfit without going through too many stores or having to pay too much money. In this article, we have given some tips on where to buy Indian wedding dresses and how to get them at a reasonable price.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“Mom, we should get going,” you say as you check your bag.

Your mother sits at the table. It’s cluttered as always. You can see her inhaler amid the mess. Wait, there’s another one. You cross the kitchen, only two steps, and grab both inhalers. You feel the subtle difference between them.

You take both, putting the full one back in the medicine cabinet and the other in the disposal bin. The doctor said the inhalent would help with your mother’s dopamine levels, balances her out a little, but the new treatment only seems to be another symptom of her disease. She hates doing it, she hates all of it, but you can’t blame her for that.

“We can’t be late for the consultation. We’ll be waiting another six months,” you come back to the kitchen.

She looks at you as she wobbles slightly. The tremor is more prominent than before. Each day you notice it more. All the little things changing about her. She’s a bit slower, her words don’t come easy or always clearly, and her mood grows grimmer and grimmer. So does yours.

You grab your purse and the keys. You’ll clean up when you get home. It doesn’t take very long for living to pile up though. Especially when you’re the only one to keep it in order.

Your mother grips the table and stands up. Getting her dressed was a battle already won. Her posture is slightly crooked as she shuffles around the table, “I’m moving.”

You step back, waiting patiently for her to round the table. She grumbles. Your mother was never bright and bubbly but ever since her diagnosis, she’s lost any glimmer of warmth. It’s like she’s living in a fog, just slowly wading through.

You walk down the hall ahead of her and pick out your shoes from the rack. As you kneel to tie your sneakers, she leans on the wall and slides her feet into the orthotic flats. She’s not very old yet. Neither of you expected her to decline so quickly.

You stand and open the door. You back up though the screen door and hold it for her. Her steps get a bit smoother the more she moves around. The permanent scowl sinks into the lines of her face as she comes out onto the porch. You lock the door behind her as she grunts and leans on the railing, stamping down each step to the walkway.

You follow behind her. That’s another problem. The lawn. The old mower broke. You haven’t been able to replace it.

As you trail your mother to the car, she swats you away. Sometimes you try too much for her. You know she must feel helpless. You back up as she sits heavily in the passenger seat and your eyes skim around the neighbourhood. The white sign on the lawn next to yours catches your eye.

You remember the finely dressed woman, her very image on the sign, and how she grimaced at the weeds and grass. If she’s going to sell the property, the neighbours shouldn’t be living in a jungle. You heard her say as much over the phone as she paced back and forth on the porch.

You mother pulls the door shut but it doesn’t click. You give it an extra push to secure it and round the hood. You get in the car and turn the key, rolling down the windows as the early summer morning crowds the tight space. Your mother mutters and wipes her forehead with a shaky hand.

“Let’s just go,” she sneers, “waste of my time...” she bends her arm over the open window, her fingers quivering, “damn doctors said it enough. Nothing they can do. Charlatans.”

“Mom,” you chide gently, “the surgery could help. If you qualify--”

“I heard ya last night,” she snaps. “Just drive.”

You nod and snap your mouth shut. You shift into reverse and back out of the drive. You know better than to talk too much. Your mother never liked hearing anything she didn’t want to hear. Facts are just an attack on her.

You steer down the street slowly, following the curve of the suburban street. The green lawns and white picket fences are palatial at first glance. It’s a 1950s fever dream implanted in the twenty-first century.

Your house is the black stain on an otherwise pristine canvas. The HOA must curse your grandmother for her leaving a perfectly nice home to a pair of beatnicks. You don’t blame them. You’re the puzzle piece that doesn’t fit, leaving a gaping hole in the picture.

The radio crackles on and you wince. Your mother struggles to turn the knob and the volume pendulums up and down. You reach to help her and she smacks your hand, only softly as she has little strength behind it. You retract and grip the wheel, listening to buzzing struggle of her unsteady. You just hope the appointment goes well.

🏠

Your mother hasn’t said much since the appointment. That worries you. What should be good news is just another dark cloud over her.

She sits as she often does; half-reclined in the chair by the window, watching the neighbourhood just outside the pane. She’s just a resentful of the picture-perfect neighbours as she if of everything else. As she is of you.

You tidy the kitchen table as the unsaid dangles in the air. You know better than to bring it up. She barely acknowledged it when the doctor said it. She’s a good candidate for surgery but it isn’t a cure. It will help with the symptoms but not stop them altogether. It’s not good enough for her but it might just be her only hope of relief, even if temporary.

“Bring me a coke,” your mother calls through and you hear the hollow tin clatter of an empty can.

You bring the dirty dishes to the sink and set them beside it. You go to the fridge to grab a red branded can and let the door shut on its own. As you enter the living room, your mother sits forward, the recliner snapping forward with her weight. She leans on and elbow as she squints through the window and cranes over the armrest.

You pick up the old can and put the new one on the small table by the chair. She sits back and takes the Coke, trembling as she struggles to crack the tab. You know better than to help her. The curl in her lip warns you better.

“Someone’s looking at the place next door,” she says.

“Oh?” You move behind her chair and try to the next house. You can only really see the edge of the porch from here. You could open the side window but that would give more than a view of the siding and might be too obvious. “New neighbours.”

“Eh, if it sells. Could do better without these stuck-up prissy bitches running around measuring grass,” she growls of the Home Owners’ Association.

You nod. She’s right. You’ve had to deal with that nosy blonde too many times.

“We’ll see,” she mutters as she finally gets the can open and slurps. “Just hope it’s not another bitch.”

You cross your arms and step closer to the window. You sense movement just beyond your vision and the realtor in her pantsuit comes down the front steps of the neighbouring house. She turns back to face someone you can’t see and speaks to him. Their words are garbled by the barrier of window and wall.

The woman smiles and spins to strut down to the sidewalk. A man follows after, a slow stroll in his long legs. He turns to face the house again and puts his hands in his pockets as he looks up at the facade. His eyes narrow as he considers it.

His gray hair is streaked with remnants of its former blond. If it wasn’t for the colour of his locks, you might not have guessed his age. He’s tall and his shoulders are broad. He’s built finely for any era.

Your mother leans forward again, “heh, lookie there,” she slurs.

She leers through the window as you stare blankly out. A new neighbour just means another person to complain about the lawn; or another person for your mother to complain about. The man pivots on his sole and pauses, his gaze set in your direction. You don’t think he can see you, not with how the sun reflects off the square panes. He stalls for just a moment before he turns complete, striding up towards the realtor.

You back up and retreat toward the kitchen. You mother hums as she continues to snoop through the window. The recliner squeaks beneath her as she shifts in the seat.

“Bit old for a family man,” she tuts.

[thelovelyruin]

𝖘𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖊.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : yandere choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : choso fell in love with you freshman year and it was finally time to make you his.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, love, manipulation, murder (not you!)

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 7.1K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from saccharine by jazmin bean.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! this was a request i’ve been working on for a while lol; i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Everything you do, I'm obsessed with you.

“Exciting, isn’t it?”

“Huh? I mean, yeah it’s cool.”

“Are you rushing too? I really wanna go Kappa!”

“That’s, uh, aren’t they kinda…”

“What, cunts? Yeah, I’d fit in nicely.”

When Choso first met you during rush week a couple years ago, you were an aspiring freshman looking for a sorority to pledge to, and he was a normal guy. Sorta. You’d spoken to him once and he became absolutely in love with you. Not like he hadn’t been with other girls in the past, a few relationships here or there. But you were different. Not like any other girl he’d seen. You hadn’t shared too much with him that day, but he was determined to figure out, well, everything about you.

I don't mean to scare, but you're just so cute.

It started with your name, which he’d simply just asked someone in your class. But then, Choso needed to know more, when was your birthday, were your zodiac signs compatible? He’d gotten that information from stealing your campus ID out of your purse while you two were in class together. Choso was paying really good attention to other things too though. He’d paid attention to your screen while he sat behind you, online shopping when you were supposed to be paying attention to the lecture. That’s how he found out what size you were and the brands you liked, but other things got a little trickier. He noticed the way you did your makeup, it was always so pretty, but it’s not like he knew what any of it was, so he’d slowly started stealing things out of your makeup bag. It was harder to get your perfume, though, until you reapplied it on the campus lawn one day. Pink sugar, huh? Sweet just like you. Choso wanted to be even better, he’d send you flowers with no receipt of who sent them, an array until he found your favorites. He’d pay for your food when you went out to eat, then leave to remain anonymous. He just loved seeing that smile on your face whenever he surprised you with something, always grateful, looking around to see if you could catch your secret admirer, but blushing when you realized you wouldn’t. God, you were perfect.

Lucky for you, you had actually gotten into Kappa. You walked around on this high horse though, one of those kiss-my-ass kind of attitudes. Not like anyone was gonna check you for it, well, ‘cause you were hot. Always well dressed, always groomed, always punctual. There was nothing anyone could really say about you other than you being a bitch, at least never to your face. Little did you know, Choso was your bitch. If you ever even glanced at him, he’d almost faint, and as the sophomore and junior years came and you’d gotten classes with him, he’d go back to his dorm and fuck his fist at the thought of you every day. But now, it was Senior year, and he was running out of time to make you his.

Every move you make, you're fucking sweeter than a cake.

Choso originally planned to just ask you directly, but he had to make sure it was gonna be perfect. He couldn’t leave room for error in the possibility that you weren’t interested at all. So, he’d gotten as close as possible to you. It wasn’t stalking, it was just studying an interest. He was pretty good at photography, so he got hired as a photographer for school events, such as parties or games. He’d walk around and take pictures of everyone like usual to not raise suspicion, but whenever he could, he’d snap as many pictures as he could of you, slipping them into his pocket. When there was too much going on at the party downstairs, he’d sneak upstairs to find which room was yours, for research purposes of course.

Well, that research went directly to Choso knowing which window to take pictures outside of. You were so oblivious, often leaving your curtains wide open as you just got out of the shower, dressed in nothing but a towel. Now, Choso never got a snapshot of you naked or anything like that, but the hopes of the day he could got him pretty damn hard. He’d take pictures of you walking around campus, doing fundraisers with your sorority sisters, running for the pageants that you always won, with the exception of Miss Junior, who you exposed for cheating on her boyfriend so she’d be out of the running. So, you’d won that too. You were practically perfect, Choso felt you were made for him, there was a true possibility he could nurture and care for you, allow you to let your guard down a bit and let him someone in. He imagined himself taking you out to all your favorite restaurants, he had all of them written down along with your favorite menu items. Nights in his room cuddled up watching all of the movies you liked, you’d be so excited to see all of your favorite snacks already waiting for you. You’d wear that glitter lipgloss you loved, he’d make sure you had more than enough, considering he’d already bought two tubes for whenever he made you his. He imagined making love to you, hearing you moan for him as he pleasured you, then put you on his chest as you fell asleep, resting his eyes as he held you. You two could truly be in love. 

I'd love to wipe these other bitches out, so it's just you and me.

But, you had a fucking boyfriend. It’s not like he didn’t like seeing you with other guys. He fucking hated it. Choso thought the guy was pretty scummy, he had that douchebag personality and always looked at guys like Choso like he was a piece of shit. But that asshole was truly a piece of shit. Megumi, or something like that. Choso didn’t bother doing too much digging up on him because it wasn’t gonna matter very soon. You guys had been dating since the beginning of the school year, not very long, but that didn’t stop him from talking to other girls when you weren't around. He’d forget your dates, and make you cry. Wouldn’t post you on his socials, almost pretended he was single. Choso had half a mind to stab him to death, mostly because he didn’t like the way he treated you, but also because then he wouldn’t be in the way anymore.

Then, there were your damn sorority sisters. Those bitches were definitely in the way. They took up too much of your time, making you busy every day with planning and meetings, to do what? Party and maybe, fundraise? He’d see them sometimes talking shit about you, saying you were weird or a bitch, or something else that wasn’t true about you. Choso would never say those things about you or treat you like that. You deserved someone who actually loved you and cared about you, none of these other distractions. He would give you the world, but that meant getting rid of the world you had first.

Oh, oh, this shit is scaring me…

Now, when Choso originally thought of doing this, he thought it was a little nuts. It was a little extreme, sure, but it was just an obstacle in the way to get to you. Sometimes, we do bad things for the people we love. It doesn't mean it's right, it means love is more important. 

Choso originally thought of actually stabbing Megumi like he wanted to. That fell quickly when he really considered the situation. Megumi was on the lankier side which meant it would be more tactical to get a hit in, plus he’d need to find a time he’d be alone in a discreet location to hurt him with no one noticing. Not that he’d really care if someone saw, it would just mean he wouldn’t be able to live the rest of his life with you; that was not an option. Shooting would be just as difficult, shell casings and the sound of gunfire could get him in deep. Could steal the brakes from his car, but then there was the possibility you were in it when it crashed, and for that, he’d never forgive himself. He’d need something that anyone could have done, an accident perhaps, something that wouldn’t kill Megumi, just get him out the fucking way. Then he got a little idea.

Don't wanna stick my fingers in this, or I'll start to bleed…

“Hey, Megumi!”

“Do I know you?”

“Well, we literally live on the same floor, but um, no. Anyways, wanted to talk to you about something…”

“Get on with it.”

“It’s her birthday today, your girlfriend that is.”

“Oh yeah. Well, why the fuck do you care?”

“We’re kinda close, wanted to get her something, but I’ll be too busy with classes to give it to her. Do you mind giving it to her for me?”

“You got my girlfriend a gift, bitch? What the hell’s in this box?”

“Well, that’s kind of a surprise for her…”

“Get the fuck out of my face before I beat your ass. Leave my girl alone, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

Megumi had slammed the door on him, just like that. Usually, Choso would’ve been really torn by his insult. He was pretty pissed Megumi forgot your birthday too, but how could he be pissed, truly? Not when a sweet resolution to Megumi’s shitty ways was on the horizon.

“Megumi’s like totally dead!”

“Omg, what do you mean he’s dead?”

“Well, he went to the hospital ‘cause he came down with like a fever or something? Todo said he couldn’t even talk when he found Megumi in the hallway and his eyes were all watery. The doctors said he died of, shit, what’s it called again? Whatever, like he couldn’t breathe! I don’t know what the fuck happened, but damn, really sucks, ya know?”

“Babe, I’m so sorry. To be fair, he was a dick.”

“Yeah, you’re right. He didn’t have a big one either TBH.”

Well, shit. Choso didn’t mean to kill him, not really. He knew Megumi was a fuckin’ asshole, though. Paired with someone crushin’ on his girlfriend and his ego, Choso knew Megumi was gonna open that box. And what was in it? Initially, Ricin covered the inside of the box, which when inhaled, caused damage to the respiratory system, which Megumi could technically recover from. Choso had extracted the Ricin from some castor beans. The same castor beans that were crushed inside of the cupcake sitting in the box. All 10 of them. Originally, Megumi would’ve lived, had he just thrown it away and not have been nosy, and if he did end up giving it to you, Choso would be there to intervene and he’d deal with that explanation later. But Megumi chose to be a nosy bastard, open it, AND EAT THE CUPCAKE! It was comical, really, considering Ricin can’t be found in an autopsy, so Choso got away with it. It’s okay. It had to be done. That greedy asshole got what was coming to him, and with him out of the way, Choso was cleared to enact Phase 2.

It's sweet like saccharine, what I’d do to have you sitting here next to me.

A couple of days after Megumi died, you pretty much got over it, walking about as if nothing happened. To be fair, he was cheating on you all the time, lied to you, and overall treated you like shit, so it wasn’t that hard. What Choso didn’t expect was for you to get kicked out of your sorority house.

“Listen, babe. Your dead boyfriend is really throwing off the vibe here. Plus, it’s bringing a lot of bad looks to the rest of us because it seems like you honestly don’t give a fuck that he died, and truthfully, neither do we, but damn bitch, try acting like it!”

“Please, Chapter President, I can act like I care, I just-”

“Sorry girlie. You’re still a sister, don’t worry. You do have to leave the house though.”

Choso felt a little bad. A little. They really were bitches, but this was perfect. He’d just saved himself from starting a gas leak at the Kappa house when you weren’t home. He didn’t like that your feelings were hurt though, and he beat himself up about it. Choso himself wasn’t really a good guy, killing your boyfriend on your birthday? Almost killing your sorority sisters before they pretty much kicked you to the curb? He was doing the exact opposite of being a good boyfriend. He’d be on his toes from now on, can’t risk ruining his chances with you. However, it was all in good light. You were becoming more and more ready to fall into his arms.

Apparently, you pretty much kept to yourself and stayed in your room. Your classwork was slacking a bit, and you couldn’t live at the house, but that didn’t stop you from still trying to be involved, participating in some campus events, and fundraising with your sisters despite your exile. You were a normal girl, humbled for sure, but Choso didn’t like that very much. He never intended to break you down like this, while you were still sweet in his eyes, he knew you loved the life you had before. He can’t unkill Megumi, which wouldn’t make sense anyway because Choso was your boyfriend now, but he’d give you a life even better than the first. One where you and he were together.

Like cherry pie, will you be mine?

Now, Choso was a real sweetheart, getting you so many gifts for when you came along, preparing how he’d approach you, compliment you, fuck you. But he was getting a little impatient. At this point, it was already the tail end of courses before winter break so he didn’t have much time to see you every day, even though he’d make that happen regardless. Plus, all of the shit that had happened to you would wear off in a couple of days, so he needed to act now. Choso knew he couldn’t make you fall in love with him overnight, and it would be too hasty to try to take it slow with you now. So, he had no choice. He was gonna kidnap you.

Now, “kidnapping” is a rather strong way to put it. In reality, Choso was gonna come to see you and talk a bit, but if that didn’t work, he’d hold you at knifepoint and make you come back to his dorm with him to enjoy all of the things he’d set up for you! He would never hurt you intentionally, so it’s not like he was gonna use it, but he had to make you think he would. He wished kidnapping you was legal, why wouldn't he want to be able to love you and take care of you all the time? It’s okay, you’d learn to love him back. After all, Choso wasn’t your ‘maybe’. Choso was your ‘one’.

Sweet to the core, I want some more.

Choso decided he’d make his move on you the night of the last Kappa party of the season, too many people for anyone to notice him running off with you, plus he knows you’d look so pretty in your party dress, hair all done up, heels making those legs of yours look so pretty. And you did! Except, you were crying. When Choso got to the party and spotted you, you were sniffling as you walked out the back door of the house. Now, he had to be strategic about this, so he exited out the front in time to catch you walking from the back. When he’d gotten outside, he saw you walking down the sidewalk, but it wasn’t very well, your heel had broken and you were having to walk barefoot. He felt terrible seeing you like that. You looked so sad, so scared, just broken. Choso had to make things right.

“Hey, you okay?”

I love you.

I can hear your words breaking down my core…

You looked up at him with those beautiful doe eyes of yours, bloodshot and watery from crying, but still, you looked stunning.

“Oh, hey Choso. Honestly? No, I’m like not okay at all.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, my ex died and everyone’s making a super big deal about it. Like, people kept coming up to me asking questions and stuff like I was there when he died or something.”

“Oh, um-”

“Sorry, I know I sound like a twat right now, but he cheated on me like all the time! It’s honestly a long shot to say we were even together, not be cocky or anything, but I think he dated me to make himself look better. Plus, he got me in hot water with my sisters, like he’s haunting me after death or whatever.”

“Sounds like he wasn’t really a good guy…”

“Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, now I have to walk back to my stupid dorm with no shoes because I fell over like a klutz and just embarrassed myself to the nines. I don’t even wanna go back there, just makes me sad, ya know? I came out to this stupid party to get my mind off things and it’s like things are just bleh. It doesn’t even feel like anyone likes me anymore. I wish someone just loved me for me, ya know?”

I think about you every day at least a hundred times or more.

Choso walked up and hugged you, bringing you into his embrace. It was a bold move for sure, especially with the knife sheathed on his waist, but he just hated seeing you cry like that. Soon, you’ll feel how nice it is to have someone care about you so much. To have someone who wants to revolve their entire life around you.

“It’s okay. Know you don’t know me very well, but I’m here for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be too forward or anything, but you can come back to my dorm for a few, that is, if you don’t wanna go back to yours.”

“That’s so sweet, thanks!”

Fuck, this was perfect! He didn’t even have to threaten to kill you! Choso offered to pick you up, which you happily agreed to, holding your heels in your hand as he carried you back to his dorm. On the way, you talked about a bunch of stuff you liked, mostly things he already knew about you, but there were a couple of new things that enticed him. You’d stopped crying, that sweet smile back on your face as you found comfort in Choso’s arms. He’d gotten back to his dorm fairly fast, not wanting to waste much time to get things rolling. He figured he’d start with telling you about his love for you, really seeing if you-

“OMG, YOU HAVE THIS???”

You pointed at the movie poster on his wall, one of your favorite movie. He’d studied it a lot, trying to figure out why you liked it so much. He’d watched it over ten times by now, buying the poster as a touch when you finally came, which worked!

“Yeah, it’s a pretty good-”

“Pretty good? It’s like the best movie ever!”

“We can, uh, watch it if you want.”

“Yes, I’d love that!”

Choso was so lucky. Here you were, sitting with him on his bed as you watched the movie. You’d stop every few minutes and point out something about it you knew a fun fact about or laugh at the parts you’d seen so many times. You were so damn cute. You’d pretty much forgotten all of the stuff going on, able to just relax with him for once. Don’t you see how nice this is? How special things can be? 

“Oh wow, it’s getting late. Shit, I still have to walk back.”

Just like that, the movie was over. You looked tired, not just physically but mentally too. You couldn’t leave though, that’s not how this was gonna go.

“Are you sure you’re good to walk?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean, your heels are broken and it’s too dark outside to be out there by yourself. Something could happen to you.”

Fuck, Choso was a little too bold with that last part. He was probably coming on too strong, he’d need to fix-

“You’re worried about little ‘ol me?”

“Something like that…”

YES. He was so fucking worried that sweat was about to drip from his face, red with anxiousness that the love of his life was about to leave him behind.

“Well, you could always walk with me. Or do you just wanna spend more time with me?”

You gave him a little smirk and wink, it went straight to his dick as he tried to think of a way to respond.

“I, um… yeah, I would.”

Your answer to his statement would be the deciding factor between you staying or him picking up that knife from his jacket on the chair. Fortunately for you, you smiled and put your things back down, sitting on the bed as you looked up at him.

“Fine, but we’re gonna watch another movie. Your pick this time.”

You make me afraid, come closer, wait no, go away…

Ten minutes into this movie and he felt like he was gonna fucking explode. This time around, you’d gotten closer to him. Instead of sitting at the end of the bed, you laid beside him, not quite touching you, but he could definitely smell you, and fuck, you smelled so good. It was becoming painful to not touch you, but he couldn’t risk fucking this up. You looked so nice like this, chest moving up and down as you laid comfortably, eyes low, obvious you were getting tired. 

“Hey, Choso?”

“What’s up?”

“Thanks for, ya know, being nice to me. I’m not anyone’s favorite these days…”

You looked so sad, but Choso couldn’t be happier. You were starting to recognize the only person who really cares about you is him!

“Yeah, but you’re my favorite.”

“Really? But, you barely know me.”

Choso actually knew you very well. Probably better than you know yourself.

“You’ve just got that type of personality that’s really easy to like, is all.”

You sat up now and looked Choso in the eyes, making him blush instantly.

“Oh yeah? So, you like me?”

Choso started stuttering and sweating, flustered beyond reason as you gave him one of those smirks. At this point, he didn’t even have to tell you. His body language was more than obvious.

“I was just kid-”

“Yes, I mean-”

You both looked at each other in shock. Why the fuck would he say that? You were fucking joking. Choso was stupid to think you were serious, not like he really had any chance with a girl like you. But that’s okay. He was gonna make one. Although, he didn’t know whether to love or hate you right now, most likely both. You looked up at him optimistically, like you were waiting on his response, but also blushing a bit as he nearly popped a blood vessel in front of you. He couldn’t even speak, choked up on his words as you brought your hand on top of the one he had leaning on the bed.

“Tell me, do you?”

“I do, for a while now.”

“So, why not ever talk to me?”

“Because you’re pretty hard to talk to.”

“How’s that?”

“You’re usually, um-”

“A bitch? Yeah, I am. But these past few weeks have humbled me.”

Choso wanted to laugh a little. Of course, it was because of him and the precautions he’s put in place for you two to end up together. You didn’t need to know that part though. You looked down, that same broken look you’d been putting off all night. Everything in him told him to stop, don’t be too hasty and he could probably get back to the plan, but it hurt him to see what he’d caused. It definitely didn’t help that you were crying again, bringing your knees to your chest as you fell into the realization of how messed up you felt. Choso pulled you into his arms, laying your face into his chest as he rubbed your back. You felt so warm, so soft, he didn’t want to let you go. Ever. 

“It’s not your fault. So, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“Thanks, you’re right.”

It was hard to feel like the bad guy when you were smiling at him, finding comfort in his words. You two were dangerously close now, eye contact had him feeling like a deer in headlights, while you remained cool and collected, like usual. That’s one of the main things he loved about you, despite all of the crazy shit going on, you still try to appear fine, but that was far from the truth. He’d be a shoulder for you to cry on, someone you could depend on and pour your feelings into. Give your heart to someone who’s worthy of loving you back and spending their every breathing second devoted to keeping you happy.

Saccharine, what I’d do to have you sitting here next to me. 

You’d kissed Choso softly, leaning in slowly enough to feel his breath hitch on his lips when he realized what you were doing. It was perfect. Your lips felt even softer than he thought they would, gentle and loving as you brought yourself closer, closing the distance between you. He had to get his head together, he’d practiced this part over and over again, and all he had to do was focus and execute it. First, cup your face with his hand. You smiled into his lips when he did this, allowing him to move to the second step, and bring his hand to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. You softened into his touch as he laid your back on the bed, opening your legs to let him on top of you. You were so sweet, moaning softly into the air as he began sucking the skin of your neck. Choso wanted to claim you, he’d finally gotten to kiss you and he needed everyone to know you were his. He sucked a little harder and felt ecstatic when you didn’t stop him, instead groaning as bruises began to flower on your skin.

“Choso…”

Shit, you moaned his name. It felt exhilarating, something he’s been waiting for for so long finally coming true. It lit a fire under his ass, coming up to kiss your lips once before he brought his lips back down to your collarbones, moving lower as his hand massaged your side. Once he’d reached the skin of your breasts, he’d stopped, looking up to you for the green light to keep going. Even though you didn’t really have a choice in spending the rest of your life with him, consent was still pretty important to him, so when you gave him a nod, he took off. Choso brought his fingers to the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head as you brought your arms up to aid him. God, you were beautiful. Your tits were on full display to him now, nothing covering you but a lacy pink thong. He was gonna start hyperventilating, your tits lifted as you breathed, nipples calling out to him like they needed saving. He brought his lips down swiftly and wrapped his tongue around one of them, immediately putting the other between his fingers to pinch as the rest of his palm massaged your breast. You started whimpering for him now, touch-starved since your boyfriend died, but Choso hoped it was also because he was doing things better than anyone you’d been with before. He alternated his mouth, groping and sucking as much as he could, relishing in the feeling of your tits in his face for the first time. As much as he could stay there all day, he knew you needed more, so he kissed his way down your stomach, lips grazing your pantyline. Choso sucked the skin of your stomach as you bucked your hips against him, turned on as he took care of you.

“Choso, please…”

He looked up into your eyes as he brought his lips off your body, fingers hooking into the fabric of your thong as he pulled them off of you. Holy fuck. You were soaking wet, lips glistening with your juices as your hips shifted slightly to invite Choso in. Without hesitation, he brought his lips down to your pussy, beginning to devour you. You tasted amazing, drinking the nectar of a fruit long awaited and it almost made him regret not planning to kidnap you sooner. You smelled so fucking good too, your pussy engulfing all of his senses as he ate you like his last meal. Your fingers found their way into his hair, moaning his name into the air with every lick of your clit. Sideways, up and down, circles around your bud, anything he could to hear you moan for him, to make your pain go away. He’d brought your legs over his shoulders and rested his hands under the arch of your back, angling your hips so he could eat you exactly how he wanted. Messy and slow, he took his time spreading your juices all over his face as you panted and pulled at the sheets. He was self-indulgent, tongue pumping in and out of you as he lived out his fantasies of eating your pussy.

“Choso…I-I…”

Shit, you were close. Choso was about to make you cum! He doubled down immediately, bringing his arms over your thighs to keep you in place as you felt your orgasm approaching. He’d picked up his pace too, tongue moving at a hungry pace as he anticipated your cum in his mouth. The hand you had in his hair gripped tighter, Choso taking it as a cue to bring his lips up and suck your clit, suction bringing your bud against his tongue. You came fast and hard, grinding your pussy against his face as you came for him, his name slipping off your lips over and over as you rode out your high.

You’re sweet to the core. 

You looked so pretty for him, chest rising and falling as you caught your breath. Choso slowly kissed his way back up your body, lips finding themselves on yours. This kiss was different from before, more intense and confident. At that point, you’d already started unbuckling his jeans, kissing him feverishly as you helped him take his clothes off. Hovering over you, he looked at you in awe. Legs on either side of his, big doe eyes looking up at him, waiting for him to fuck you.

“Holy shit…”

Your hands found his hair, gripping and tugging at it as he slipped in at a slow pace. Choso took his time, exploring the walls he longed for the feeling of. Every stroke nearly sent him over, wet and warm, you were like heaven wrapped around his dick. You felt even better than he’d imagined, much better than his fist he fucked to the thought of you. Especially with how you were moaning for him, it was driving him crazy, all he could do was praise you.

“You’re perfect…so fuckin’ perfect…”

“I know…”

God, he’s never felt like this. You were sucking him in like you were made for him, holy shit, he was losing his mind. Touching him, feeling your warmth on his shaft as he fucked you faster. You were so beautiful, lips pursed as you breathed up and down, eyes fluttering as he fucked you.

“You feel so good, baby…”

“Choso…”

His name was killing him. He’d put in so much time to make sure he fucked you exactly the way you needed him, he had to make the first time perfect. A man that could care for you. Love you. Please you. Choso finally had you, and he was going to give you the fucking world.

I need to hate you before it's too late…

“So fuckin’ pretty, baby…”

Choso gripped your legs tight as he fucked into you fast, making you scream his name out into the room. You were doing this for him! Moaning for him! And you felt so fucking good wrapped around him, more than anyone ever before. There wasn’t anyone before you and there wasn’t anyone before him. Your world would revolve around him now like his revolved around you, every waking moment of being in love would be magical. 

“Choso, I-”

“Let me have it, baby. I’ve waited so long for it…”

He didn’t care what he was saying anymore, too high on you and your pleasure that he couldn’t think straight. If you were gonna cum for him, he needed it now, like his life depended on it. Something to signify the beginning of all of the pleasure he’d give you from this point forward.

“You know how long I’ve wanted this, baby? Fuck, I’m close…”

“That’s it, baby, let go, let me make you feel good…”

“So pretty, cumming on my dick like this…”

Choso was so fuckin obsessed with you. You came down like an angel, eyes fluttering as you murmured his name softly, body melting into the bed. He halted inside you as he came, losing his mind over the way your nails dug into his arms. You two lay there panting for a bit, Choso’s arm bringing you into his chest. So beautiful like this. He’d finally made it, you in his arms, right where you belonged.

Before I crave you…so please go away. 

“So, I’m not going back to my dorm tonight, am I?”

No, of course, you weren’t.

“Do you really want-”

“I don’t want to.”

Choso was shocked to hear your words. You actually wanted to stay here with him, he didn’t even have to scare you into doing it! 

“Do you have a T-shirt or something? It’s kinda cold in here.”

“Uh, yeah, let me grab-”

“No problem, I’ll get it!”

Stop it. FUCKING STOP. You were getting too comfortable, about to open Pandora’s box with your hand on his closet door. Choso should stop you, whatever it would take. By the time he’d gotten to the knife, you’d opened the closet, pictures of you all over the walls. Choso lingered behind you now, knife behind his back as he waited for your reaction. You just had to be so fuckin nosy, you’d ruined everything. 

“Choso…are these pictures of me?”

He gripped the knife tightly in his hand as he watched you look through them. He couldn’t even speak, heartbreak and murderous intent flowing out of him. Every picture put another pin in his heart. Photos of you around campus, through your dorm window, in class, all open for you to see. You brought your hand up to one, pulling it down as you looked over it. The picture he took of you on Valentine’s Day. You’d been sitting in class that day, sad because Megumi hadn’t gotten you anything, which Choso figured he wouldn’t. That’s why he had three dozen roses delivered to you on the lawn later that day, eyes brightening as you held them and read the card: “Happy Valentine’s Day, Princess. ~ your secret admirer.” You were so damn happy that day, so perfect. Now, you had to die.

“It was you, huh? All this-”

“Yes. It was always me.”

You pulled another one down, the one of you winning Miss Sophomore. Your face had the brightest smile, holding that crown on your head as you cried tears of joy. You smirked at it, cheeks blushing a bit.

“I look really good in this one, glad someone got a shot of it. So, you liked me this much?”

You’d turned to look at him now, giving him a confused face. Probably because Choso was sweating buckets. His hand shook behind him as he looked at you nervously, analyzing everything about you, any sign that you were scared or wanted to leave.

“I’d call it more than that.”

“So, why not-”

“Because I wanted things to be perfect. I wanted to be perfect for you.”

You gave him a nervous nod and turned back to the closet, pulling down a photo of you in your room back at the Kappa house.

“How’d you do it?”

“I…huh?”

“How’d you take this without getting caught?”

You looked back at him now, a serious look on your face that told him he better fuckin’ answer. What was he gonna do? There was no point in lying to you, everything was there for you to see.

“I learned you and the other girl’s schedules to make sure everyone was asleep.”

“So, what else ya got? Pictures can’t be the only thing.”

Choso pointed to the top shelf of the closet hesitantly. You brought down the bin carefully, sitting it down on his desk as you opened the lid.

“What the fuck, Choso? I was looking everywhere for this lipgloss!”

You’d begun rummaging through the bin, picking up things in remembrance of when you lost them. A couple of hair ties, eyeliner, lipstick napkins. You acted as if there was nothing wrong with this, and it was making it really hard for Choso to read you. His hand alternated between wanting to drop the knife or use it, heart pulsing frantically as you tried on old jewelry of yours. Satisfied with your findings, you moved back to the closet, pulling down the other box on the shelf. The one with his gifts for you.

“Wait! You’re not supposed to see that yet!”

“What is it?”

“It’s something really special... just please, you’re gonna ruin everything!”

You shot him a concerned look and rolled your eyes, walking back over to the bed to take a seat. 

“Answer a couple of questions for me, ‘kay?”

“I-I…”

“Question one, when did this start?”

“...Freshman year, rush week…the first time we met…”

You looked at him surprised. That meant he’d been stalking in love with you for almost four years now and never acted on it.

Just confiscate you, my teeth are in pain…

“Question two, what’s behind your back?”

“Nothing…important…”

Choso was shaking in fear, so much so, he dropped the fucking knife. You both watched it fall to the floor behind him, your mouth agape in shock as he frantically bent over to pick it up. He couldn’t tell what was more awkward, him dropping it on the floor or him picking it up and sitting it on his desk like nothing happened.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU GONNA DO WITH THAT?”

“DAMAGE CONTROL.”

“FOR WHAT?”

“FOR WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!”

“YOU WERE GONNA STAB ME?”

“NO, I WAS JUST GONNA MAKE SURE YOU DIDN’T LEAVE!”

“ARE YOU FUCKIN’ CRAZY?”

“I’M NOT CRAZY, I’M IN LOVE!”

You scoffed and chuckled, stunned at his statement. Choso was bright red, on the verge of a panic attack. So many thoughts, so many mistakes, you knew almost everything now. All of the things he wanted to do for you, show you, give you, it all meant nothing now. Still, you sat there completely calm, aside from the fact the guy who just fucked your brains out was possibly about to kill you.

“Question three, this is an important one. Did you kill Megumi?”

“It was ruled a death from natural causes.”

“Yeah, tell that shit to someone else, did you kill him?”

Choso didn’t really care to hide things now, too far gone. Especially not how he got rid of that asshole you called a boyfriend.

“Yes, I did; and I don’t regret it.”

“How’d you do it?”

“I poisoned him with Ricin.”

“RICIN? HOW THE FU-”

“I put it inside of a box I told him was supposed to be for you.”

“Why?”

“Because he was a terrible boyfriend to you and you didn’t deserve to be with a guy who couldn’t even remember your birthday. Not to mention, he would’ve never died if he didn’t open what was meant for you, nosy fucker.”

“So, you were jealous? Most people would just beat the guy’s ass, you definitely knocked it out the park with that one.”

“Yes, he didn’t deserve to have you! He took you for granted when there was somebody much more fit to make you happy!”

“And that’s you?”

“Yes, just…please…don’t leave. Not before I make things perfect for you!”

You sat back on your hands, thinking a bit and bouncing your leg. Choso had said too much. Not only did he admit to killing Megumi, but now if you really did hate him, you could get him arrested too. Which meant you two would have to live apart. That was no longer an option.

“Even If I wanted to leave, I don’t think you’d actually give me the choice. Plus, it’s kinda…sweet?”

“Sweet?...”

“Yeah, never had someone like me this much, let alone kill my boyfriend to get closer to me.”

“So, you’re not mad?”

“No, not really. Well, maybe for planning to stab me. Not like I can make you untake the pics, but I’ll need some of my stuff back. I’m more impressed than anything. I’m not even gonna ask how you got the Ricin or half of this stuff.”

Choso didn’t know how to feel, or how to react. Why were you so calm about this? Why weren’t you scared? Why were you still here willingly? He couldn’t move at all, locked in place in fear as he watched you get into the bed and turn on another movie.

“You gonna come lay with me or just stand there?”

“I just…I-”

You sat straight up now, looking him dead in the eyes as his body quivered in reaction.

“What’s your deal, huh? Didn’t you kill a guy to be with me?”

“Yes, technically, I-”

“So, be with me, Choso! Unless you’re just like a murderer or whatever, that’s kinda fucked up.”

I'm gonna break you before I can say…

Choso was lost for fuckin’ words. You were laying on his chest now, holy shit, he was losing his mind. Touching him, feeling your warmth as you finally relaxed. Everything he had done to get you with him had paid off. You were so perfect, lips pursed while you breathed up and snuggled your face into him. Just his sweet, sweet girl.

“So, the whole, um, thing…”

“What, you being fucking insane?”

“I’m not insane, just very dedicated to the woman I love!”

“Well, the way I see it, all my other boyfriends couldn’t stop looking at other girls, but you? You’re perfect, you’re already obsessed with me! Just don’t kill anyone else, ‘kay?” 

“I’ll try.”

I love you.

♱ the song used in this story is saccharine by jazmin bean. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

[winterhawkkisses]

Raking leaves and jumping into leaf piles bonus points for a Lucky appearance

There was something inexplicably satisfying about gardening.

His therapist had said something about order out of chaos, about the need for a level of choice in his environment; Steve just called him a control freak. Bucky didn't figure it needed that level of introspection - it was satisfying to get his hand dirty, see the things he'd grown, watch the way his little front yard was evolving from a patchy wasteland into something kind of beautiful.

The leaves though? The leaves were a bitch.

He managed for the most part, although there were the occasional tasks where he needed Steve to lend a hand, paid back in beer and pizza and a game on the TV. Raking, though, that was a constant fucking pain in his ass, and it'd be a while until he'd saved enough to get the rake he'd seen online with a modified grip. Mostly for now he did it first thing in the morning, too early for anyone to see him so clumsy, or - after a bad night - in the afternoon with a polite smile for his neighbours that was mostly gritted teeth.

It was crisp, this early, frost riming the edges of the leaves, his heavy breaths curling visibly through the air. Steve had tied the sleeve on this shirt into a knot to keep the breeze out, but his hand was red-knuckled and raw looking on the rake as he scraped clumsily at the last few leaves.

His head snapped up at a faint yell, sounded kinda like his name, and he almost jumped out of his goddamned skin when a blur of bright yellow zipped past him and his neat pile of leaves exploded into chaos, all over his front lawn.

"What," he said, slow and measured, "the actual fuck."

Pounding feet drew his attention to the sidewalk. The guy who ran up looked disheveled, only halfway-dressed, flannel pyjama pants in a bright shade of purple, unlaced sneakers, and, inexplicably, a rumpled dress-shirt. He was tall and lean and almost accidentally good-looking, genes rather than anything approaching effort, and a lot of it was down to the angle of his sheepish grin.

"I am so, so sorry," he said, something kinda resigned in his tone, "he got out while I was unpacking, and -" the guy's blue eyes flicked past Bucky's shoulder and his face fell - "Jesus fucking Christ, Lucky."

Bucky turned to see that the chaos was spreading, a one-eyed labrador-looking sprawl of limbs rolling happily in what had been a neat pile of leaves.

And it probably should've been - the chaos, the wasted effort, the mess - there should've been some anger there, maybe even something like panic. But the stupid grin on the dog's satisfied face, and the absolute resigned desolation in the droop of the guy's shoulders...

Bucky snorted, ungainly and a little unfamiliar, and the look of matching surprise on two golden heads made it turn into a laugh that bubbled out of him without effort for the first time in a while. He dropped the rake and rubbed his hand over his face, and knuckled at his chest where something felt a little looser.

"Fuck it," he said. "Lucky, have a ball." The dog cocked its head, confused, and the guy laughed. He had a good laugh.

"Not an actual ball, Luck, you pea-brain." He palmed the back of his neck and turned back to Bucky. "I'll clear it up, I promise. Might have to borrow the rake, though - my last place, the only outside space was a fire escape."

"Fuck it," Bucky said again. And then - inexplicably brave, embracing the chaos, his therapist was gonna be so goddamned proud, "you want a coffee?"

[jkriordanverse]

☆☆ Hawthorne Games hcs ☆☆

they've tried to bid each other's stuff (and each other) online to see how high the prices would go. It went from selling their pens to their forks to their soul and it escalated until their account got taken doww due to violation against policy.

When they started getting suspicious of gray's crush on Lyra they'd tail the two and act out Lyrason's interactions in the most exageratted way possible.

They had a game once where they'd hire private investigators to follow each other around without each other noticing and they'd all try to dress up and whoever's investigator has the most info on the others wins.

There was another game that could only be played when Gray was having a bad day. Basically each one of the brothers would go up and see how close they got to Gray before he told them to go away.

Sometimes when they were bored they'd try to solve murder mystery cases and sometimes they'd investigate on their own. Then they'd tip the police off if they did solve it bc they didn't want to seem suspicious.

Once they were playing the floor is lava Xander tried to jump to Gray to reach the desk near the stairs but he ended up making them both fall down and now Grayson has a small scar underneath his chin where his jaw meets his neck.

When Xander enrolled in Boy Scouts, there was an activity where people had to think of fundraising ideas but Xander chose to go solo (accidently) and he cried so hard bc he didnt think he could raise as much money as the other kids.

so ofc his brothers stepped in, in which case Jamie suggested he make a small gambling club for adult men only tilt the odds to his side so he'd win as a joke but Xander actually did it.

Nash was furious and put a stop once he found out ofc. But lke when the instructor/coach guy asked them how Xander raised so much money Nash started panicking.

Afterwards when they had to sell cookies and Gray went with Xander he was the one standing at the edge of the lawn glaring like "if you don't buy his cookies i will kill you" unless it was to old ladies bc they bought cookies anyways.

Jamie was the one who went up and flirted with the girls and women who opened the door and sweetalked the men into buying Xander's cookies. He even taught Xander some lines.

Nash actually tried to make Xander do it himself lol. Like he'd stand near the mailbox and hold up finger ups and everything.

When Xander was small he loved to go riding on Nash's bike and feel the wind on his face. It was so cute.

[faisalabadfabricstoresblog]

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[fairlyang]

Mayor que usted II 🕷️

fooling around more with your dilf neighbor

w/c: 2.6K

pairing: dilf!neighbor x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. wet dreams, masturbation, he lives rent free in ur head, some cute fluff, confession, drags you somewhere, teasing, oral (m&f!receiving), face sitting hehe, almost caught again

part one ~ part three

A whole week has passed and you hadn't stopped thinking of Miguel's fingers at all. You were hoping, begging, praying he'd show up at your front door asking for you, to tell you he wants to play with you again.

But nope. nothing. nada.

Fortunately for you, your dads work friend who almost caught you and Miguel, was throwing a birthday party this weekend for one of his kids. Which one out of the six? You didn't know nor cared only caring to go because you knew Miguel would be there.

You hadn't stopped fantasizing about him, just wet dream after wet dream. You wanted him. You needed him so badly. 

You would finger yourself at night just hoping maybe he'd slip in through your window to fuck you. Pero no..

You also used one of your favorite dildos and pretended it was him. Your mind was all focused on him, you just couldn't help it. You missed how he talked to you and the way his fingers felt inside you. And the excitement and thrill when you almost got caught. It was exhilarating.

But worst of all you didn't see him at all. You thought maybe you'd see him watering his plants or mowing the lawn, hell getting his mail but he didn't go outside once.

Or at least you never saw him when peeking through your bedroom window while doing online uni work.

You thought you caught a glimpse of him helping Gabi in his car a few days ago but it was another neighbor. You might've groaned when you saw it wasn't him but you were just always so use to seeing him and occasionally flirting with him.

So after the longest week of your life, it was finally Saturday and you were getting ready to go to the party. It started an hour ago but knowing all the partygoers you knew they'd barely be getting right now too.

You took a peek out your window to see if Miguel was making any movement in his bedroom or by any of the downstairs rooms. Nothing again.

Maybe he's helping Gabi get dressed on the other side the house...

You sighed and went back to your dresser where you continued applying some eye makeup. You had already changed and chose to wear a red v neck bell sleeved blouse with a black skirt.

There was some breeze outside so you'd figure you'd wear some type of long sleeve. Even though you had a big feeling you'd just go back indoors to be with Miguel... fingers crossed anyway.

"Mija ya nos vamos a ir!!" Your mom yelled and you quickly yelled back, "okay!!!" (Honey we're about to leave!!)

You put on your favorite lip combo then leave everything on top of the dresser before grabbing your phone and run out of your door.

There was nothing more awkward than having to say hello to every single person at a party but if you did it by yourself? Even worse.

You went down the stairs and thankfully caught up to your parents who were already at the front door. Your mom handed you the birthday gift and you just scoffed, "es el amigo de el!" You motion to your dad and he shakes his head. (it's his friend!)

"Pero tu eres la joven-" (but you're the young one-)

"Y eso que??" (And what's that gotta do with anything??)

He groans and takes the bright pink colored gift bag and opens the door letting out a grunt. You chuckle and follow after him while your mom rolls her eyes at the both of you.

You walk up then wait for your mom on the sidewalk when you hear a door close behind you. You turn your head, eyes immediately lighting up as you saw Miguel leaving his house.

But not before grinning seeing little Gabi run up to you and your dad. You bent down as she ran towards you and she jumped up with an excited squeal as you caught her and carried her in your arms. "Como andas Gabi?" You asked and she grins showcasing that her front teeth are gone. (How are you?)

You exaggeratedly gasp and slap your right hand over your mouth as you put her on your hip, still carrying her with your other arm. "Ya te me estás creciendo." You say and pout, earning yourself the cutest little giggles from her. (You're already growing on me)

Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder and your dad motions for you to greet Miguel. You grin up at him and bring your right hand up so he can shake it. He was about to when your mom comes up and waves you off, "desde cuando saludas a la gente así?" (since when do you greet people like that?)

She gives Miguel a quick hug before kissing his cheek as he does the same. "Buenos modales mija." She says and turns her head to face you before giving you a warning look. (Good manners honey)

Damn- well you would've done it anyway but had to properly say hello to Gabi first....

"Bájame! Bájame! Saluda a mi papá, ya quiero ir a la fiesta!!" Gabi excitedly says and you do so. (Put me down! Put me down! Say hi to my dad, I wanna go to the party already!!)

You put her down and she immediately runs off to your next door neighbors house. You were so fucking lucky that Miguel lived next door and everyone was so friendly with each other so you'd always get the chance to see him at parties like this.

Miguel steps forward but your mom was already walking off anyway to make sure she'd enter safely. He sighs and your dad gives him a pat on the back as well as a hearty laugh, "no te preocupes tanto, ya sabes que está bien con nosotros." He tells Miguel and he visibly looks less nervous. (Don't worry so much, you know she'll be fine with us)

He then walks off as well leaving you all alone with Miguel. Finally.

You turn to look at your dad one more time as he went through the side door to go into the backyard. You turn to Miguel and step forward, leaning up and leaving a soft kiss on his cheek before pulling away. He raises an eyebrow at you and you just smile, "Buenos modales." You mock your mom making him chuckle. (good manners)

You then turn back and start walking towards the house. He follows suit and it almost seems like he wants to say something.

Maybe he did actually end up regretting it-

"No pienses lo más peor nena." He says making you turn to look at him. "Ahora tu te ves nerviosa." He adds and you bit your lip. Damn. (Don't think of the worst baby. Now you're the one that looks nervous)

You shrug and take a deep breath, "no me puedes culpar." (you can't blame me)

"No me arrepiento." He mumbles and you stopped. (I don't regret it)

You look up at him and see how sincere his eyes looked, "de verdad?" (really?)

He nods and smiles, "de verdad." (really)

"Y no te he podido de quitar de mi mente." He whispers leaning in sending a shiver down your spine. (And I haven't been able to get you out of my mind) 

But then the front door of the house bursts open and he quickly takes a step back. You both take a look and it was a hurdle of children running out to play in the front yard.

You both sigh and he motions for you to go inside first, you nod and walk the little pathway to the door before walking in with him right behind you.

He then grabs your hand and leads you to a door by the kitchen. He opens it and goes in first still holding your hand. He goes down the stairs with you behind him as you question what he was plotting.

He then opens a door in the basement, pulling you in before shutting the door and pushing you against the door immediately latching his lips to your neck.

Your breath hitches in your throat and you bit your lip trying to stay quiet as he kissed your skin hungrily. Suddenly you remember something and pull his head back, "you can't leave marks."

He groans and looks down at the blouse you're wearing, "tan hermosa." He murmurs and kisses down your neck down to your cleavage. (so beautiful)

You bite your tongue really wanting to stay quiet, just in case someone comes downstairs or something. But then he starts bringing down your blouse exposing the red lacy bra you decided to wear. Just to match with the blouse.

And he clearly loved it. He squeezed your tits over your bra and moaned at the sight. "Al fin." (Finally)

You squeezed your thighs together which instantly caught his attention so he brought a hand down to place between your legs. You spread your legs and he softly traced along your mound through your panties. "Lift your skirt up for me nena." He says and you quickly did, lifting it up so he can see all of you.

He groans at the sight and immediately dropped to his knees. He grabs onto the back of your thighs as he leaves a kiss along your covered slit. "Miguel por favor-" (please-)

"Que necesitas chiquita?" He coos and you whine. (what do you need baby girl?)

"Tu boca por favor." You moan and buck your hips forward but his hands stop you. (Your mouth please)

He hums and moves his hands to take off your little red thong, he slips them off and brings it down your legs but leaves a kiss on your inner thigh before you step out of them.

"Veremos." He mumbles then dives into your already soaked cunt. (We'll see)

His tongue immediately starts ravaging at your folds making you arch your back and let out a whimper. You then move back and stand against the wall to be somewhat balanced because you didn't trust yourself.

But yet his arms were still wrapped around you as he devoured you, it's all he's also been thinking about all week. Though for him he desperately wanted you sitting on his face. So he pulled away.

You looked down and were about to complain, then punch him in the arm when he quickly pulled you onto the bed. He sat down next to you before he quickly laid down flat on his back.

You looked at him confused until he gave you a look and you instantly understood. Oh.

You bite your lap and straddle him then move your body up until you were hovering over his chest. He gave you another look until he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down. "Fucking sit down." He demanded and you gulped.

You didn't wanna crush him-

"Nena hazlo, no me hagas repetirlo." He groans and you finally sit, your cunt directly on his mouth. (Baby girl do it, don't make me repeat myself)

"Oh fuck-" you moan out and straighten up, feeling as Miguel's tongue glides over every inch of you.

You looked down at him and he was already looking at you as his mouth came up to suck on your clit gently while maintaining eye contact with you. You brought a hand down to play and tug on his hair as he ate you out to absolute perfection.

You'd never sat on a man's face before, most guys you've been with were just that, guys. They weren't men and weren't talented enough like you needed them to be.

Which is why you were so grateful you found the perfect replacement for all those shitty men you slept with to get your dirty mind off Miguel.

But in the meantime you shook your thoughts away and realized you were now moving your hips back and forth against his mouth. Which just felt so fucking good.

Suddenly you realize you really want to cum while he was inside you so you pulled away, or at least tried to but his arms were still hooked around your thighs. "Miguel- M-Miguel stop- please." You said and he immediately did.

He let go of you and you immediately climb off him only to snake down his body. "What are you-"

"I just wanna cum when you're inside me." You say matter-of-factly, making him moan as you were now directly on his bulge.

You grinded your hips against him, bare pussy against his pants. Maybe not the brightest idea but who cares?

You then continued down until you were between his legs and your face was right by his hard on. You palmed him through his pants but didn't want to wait any longer so you hastily took off his pants and slid his boxers off.

Your eyes widen seeing his size, not expecting him to be so girthy but also long. His tip was already leaking precum so you just got to work and immediately took him in your mouth after spitting on it. You might as well have been drooling by just how much you loved his cock.

So you took him in to your mouth and took as much of him as you could on your first try, about halfway but still not enough. You wanted to take all of him.

So you did, you moved your head back and forth then went all the way making sure he hit the back of your throat before you quickly pulled away and let the drool slip from your mouth and onto your chest.

He moaned and brought a hand down to your face, he lightly stroked your cheek before he grabbed onto your hair. You took that as your sign and slipped him back into your mouth, taking him better now. Making sure he filled up your throat.

Suddenly you feel his thighs shaking and you move faster making sure he hit the back of your throat every single time. He moans louder and gripped onto your hair tightly, somewhat guiding you and making you take him deeper.

Then finally you feel him cum, his load going straight down your throat as you made sure to take every drop he gave you. You pull away and hold on to his dick gently and leave small kisses on the tip.

You both sit in silence and as you finally catch your breath and look up at him, sticking your tongue out so he knows you swallowed every drop when footsteps come down and he quickly gets up and locks the door, standing by it.

You quickly put on your clothes and pray for the best because it would be really bad if you were caught here with Miguel.

Suddenly the footsteps come straight to the door and the doorknob wiggles. "Esta ocupado!" Miguel says and you feel your heart racing again. (It's occupied!)

"Miguel? Güey eres tu?" A man speaks from the other side of the door and you recognized it to be yet another neighbor. (Dude is that you?)

"Si, si soy yo." He answers reluctantly and sighs as you fix the straps of your bra. (Yes, yes it's me)

"No me digas-" (don't tell me-)

"Ya chingate pendejo!" Miguel groans and you cover your mouth to not laugh. (Fuck off dumbass)

"Okay okay!" The man laughs and the footsteps go back up again.

He sighs and turns to you but you speak up first, "hasta la próxima?" (until next time?)

He just nods and you frown, "te prometo que valdrá la esperada." He says and walks over to you, gently grabbing your face in his hands. (I promise that it'll be worth the wait)

"Okay te creo... pero me debes." You say and wrap your arms behind his neck. (I believe you... but you owe me.)

"Te daré lo que me pidas, hermosa." He says and pecks your lips softly. (I'll give you whatever you ask for, beautiful)

[gergthecat]

Can you make some averyjameson headcanons?

YESSIR

I've already done one of these but I'll always do more <3

Avery and Jameson have a Minecraft world they have spent WEEKS on

Jameson blushes every time she puts their little Minecraft beds together as if he doesn't LIVE in her bed

Jameson gets kicked out once a month so Avery, Libby, Max, and Xander can have a girls' night/sleepover

he pouts every time

at this point he doesn't even knock before going into the bathroom while she's in there

Avery is a mochi girl and Jameson honestly doesn't get the hype

they love reading Nancy Drew books

they dress up as Ned and Nancy for Halloween and nobody gets it

Avery always has something sprained and Jameson teases her relentlessly for it

his phone wallpaper is a photo Xander took of him burying Avery in sand during one of their vacations

hers is a picture she made Grayson take with his nice camera of Jameson and Nash as they were walking on the lawn

Nash asked Jameson to be his best man and he was so sure it'd be Grayson that he cried

they both have CRIPPLING self-esteem issues but they are so adamant that it's wrong when it comes to the other person

Avery is Libby's maid of honor as well (obvs)

when she goes to try on her dress for the wedding (they had taken the measurements a month in advance) it's too small and she starts crying

Libby has to call Jameson to come calm her down

the comments online just get to her sometimes yk?

she feels guilty and buys Libby a second wedding gift as an apology for ruining the moment

Libby OBVS tells her it's fine (we stan good big sister Libby)

[fashidwholesale]

Surat sarees, their intricate designs and their popularity in India

Sarees have always been a part of ethereal costumes donned by women in countries India, Pakistan or Bangladesh. These beautiful draperies come in a vast range of materials and breath-taking designs each time. These are not only prevalent in these countries though. They have gone abroad and made their mark among people who are not even residents to these countries that exhibit sarees as their own part of the culture.

Surati sarees are absolutely beautiful and thus are quite popular. Originating from Gujarat, these sarees are essentially made out of lightweight fabrics which make them feasible to keep it draped on the body of the wearer. There are distinctive types of these sarees and they are usually paired up with heavy jewellery on festivals and occasions. These are much in demand all across the world and hence the feature of Online Surat saree wholesale too is prominent. Apart from personal use, these sarees are taken up commercially as well. There are dealers who make business out of these attractive sarees all across India and abroad. These people buy sarees on wholesale basis where the prices too are revised for the better. Thus, Sarees at wholesale price are visibly reasonable and are widely availed by people dealing in it.

Apart from sarees, lawn dresses too are quite popular, especially young women in countries like Pakistan and Bangladesh. These are stylish and deliver a stunning look onthe wearerbecause of its colour schemes, designs and appearance. Thus, one can easily opt for this kind of a dress for a party or any occasion. One can also grab a Pakistani lawn dress material online and make the best out of it.

[nakedwilbur]

He had com crawling back to his father when his “I can live of my music” rebellion failed spectacularly. His father had reluctantly taken him back in on the condition he got a job and started to save up to his own apartment. He agreed, but without a college degree it wasn’t that easy to get a job in the first place, and his rebellious and free spirit nature made him either quit or getting fired from the few jobs ha actually could get. Eventually, he just stopped looking for jobs all together, and drifted off to a lazy lifestyle, living off his father and sleeping all day and partying or gaming all night.

His father tried everything he could to get him back on track, from threats to encouragement and fixing interviews, but nothing helped, and one day he finally snapped. Seeing his lazy son stumbling down to the kitchen having slept until lunch time, and once again completely ignored his request of moving the lawn and doing the laundry was enough. “This has to change,” he yelled at his son standing in the kitchen in just his boxer shorts poring himself a cup of coffee. Moving up behind the young lad, he yanked down his underwear and pushed him out of it. “From now on we have a ‘no job – no clothes’ rule in this house,” his father continued, picking up the underwear and leaving the kitchen. Standing there stark naked and still a bit sleepy, he just thought this was just another silly outburst by his old man, and that it was best to just leave him alone and let him cool down. That was until he heard his father starting to rummage around up at his room. Storming up to see what was going on, he found his father emptying out his closets and collecting all his clothes in garbage bags. Realizing his father actually might be serious about forcing him to stay naked, he started to argue that he couldn’t do this to him. He was grown up and couldn’t be walking around naked all the time. But his father just pushed him out his room, saying “My house, my rules. You are free to leave whenever you want, but as long as you live with me you stay naked until you get yourself a job.”

Eventually, his father had collected all his clothes and carried the bags out to the car, before coming back in again and pushing his naked and shocked son outside. Locking the doors, he said “While I donate all your clothes to the Goodwill, perhaps you can finally get on to moving the lawn as I have asked you to do for several days.” Trapped outside naked, he saw no other options that to do as he was told for once. The high fences prevented the view into the garden for the most part, but he thought he saw the old lady next door spending suspiciously much time up in here second floor bedroom.

Getting a job without a college degree was hard enough, but living as a nudist made it even harder. His father had not been joking with the ‘no job – no clothes’ rule, and even every attempt to cover up with towels or blankets was forcibly cut off with threats of even more sanctions like removing of bedroom doors or curtains. His arguments about needing clothes for interviews was just met with “do it online”, which off course didn’t help when the employers saw his naked and tattooed upper body. Still, his father didn’t give inn leaving him in a permanent naked state. From his father point of view, the naked punishment had gotten his soon to pull himself together and at least starting to help out around the house and finally do his cores as told. If he gave in and letting him get dressed, he was afraid they would fall back into the old bad habits.

Then suddenly, after several months as an unwilling nudist, his old band mates got in touch. They had gotten an opportunity to do some new concerts and wondered if he was in. Having no choice, he had to tell them about his cruel father and his strange naked living conditions. They were all sympathetic at first, promising to help him out, until one of them said “Maybe a naked drummer actually is what we need to break through.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Rock, Meet Hard Place 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss makes a deal that proves less than beneficial for you.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Lloyd Hansen

Author’s Note: This is what you asked for so don't even.

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“Alright, sweet thing, you just make sure he knows I’m on his way, won’t you?” Hansen drawls over the phone. You roll your eyes. 

“Yes, I will definitely do my job, Hansen,” you click around the computer as you drone dully towards the speaker phone. 

“Always so obedient, baby face.” 

“Mm, sure. ETA?” You ask curtly. 

He chuckles, “you sure know how to sweet talk.” 

“I’ll say... about an hour? Is that correct?” You rebuff. 

“You’re good,” he praises. 

“I’ll let Fowler know.” 

You reach over and hang up before he can get his next quip out. You can see why your boss isn’t his biggest fan, though you can’t say Fowler isn't much better. He’s grating in a much different way. 

You stand up and check your watch. You cross the office and knock on the door to the left of your desk. Your boss grumbles from the other side. 

“One hour,” you call through. 

“In,” he demands. 

You sigh. You really don’t need any more of his griping. All morning he’s been stressing you about Hansen. He really has no right to be so whiny. He chose this. He said the contract was too good to pass up. Faced with consequence of his own greed, he makes sure he’s not the only one to suffer for it. 

No matter how many times you remind him that business is business and you need to just get it over with, he doesn’t let up. You open the door and step inside. 

“Fowler,” you cross your arms. “I wouldn’t recommend any more caffeine.” 

“How do you know—maybe I don’t want another coffee.” 

“You shouldn’t have one but I could make some decaf,” you suggest. 

“Do you always have to do that? You don’t know what’s in my mind.” 

“I know you have your knife is in your boot and I would suggest you leave it at your desk,” you shrug. 

“You don’t always know,” he snarls and rolls his chair back. He bends his ankle over his knee and unstraps the sheath. “There, happy.” 

“Happy is a relevant emotion. I’m content. One hour, Fowler.” 

“One hour,” he mocks. “If you weren't so damn efficient...” 

“I know, sir, I’d be working for some CEO in New York, living every young girl’s dream.” You turn to the door. “About fifteen years too late.” 

You leave him as he issues another grumble. You pace around the office and go to the window. You peer out at the green lawns and let your vision blur. You chose to never be a wife or mother, too much hassle, yet after everything, you’re still reining in children. Forty-year old manchildren. 

“New jacket,” Fowler comments as he emerges from his office. 

“It was new about five years ago,” you turn to face him and lean on the trim of the window. 

“Which one?” He holds up two hangers; a leather jacket and a blue blazer. You squint.  

“You joining a golf club or a biker club?” You snip. 

“Don’t be a smart ass,” he tosses the leather jacket into the cushioned chair against the wall and unhooks the blazer from the hanger. “I swear, I don’t need lip from the both of you.” 

“What do you mean? Hansen was absolutely delightful.” The dryness in your voice chafes in the air. He shakes his head. 

“Idiot,” he mutters, “but a deadly idiot.” 

He pops his collar before he pulls the jacket over his shoulders. He folds it back down and goes to the oval mirror hung to the right of the door. He fixes a shank of his short hair as it juts up from his crown. You watch, disinterested, from your perch against the window sill. 

“You couldn’t put a dress on for the special occasion,” he challenges as he faces you. 

You have to keep from flicking your eyes up. You go to your desk and sit, “I’ll wear one when you do.” 

“Wouldn’t you like a peek?” He scoffs. 

You don’t answer. He might despise Hansen for the same, but he can be cocky in his own right. Most men in this line of work, or just at that level, have an overinflated ego. Likely a bit of compensation for lacking elsewhere. 

“Come on, let’s get moving,” he snaps his fingers. “What do you think? Outside? The den? Dining room?” He asks. “I could sit at the end of the table, have him stand at the other end like a peasant in a medieval court?” 

“Oh, this is going to go well,” you stand again. 

“Ah, come on, Harpy, you’ll be there to keep us civil.” 

You give him a look. He tosses the nickname out when he wants to irk you but he’s yet to get the reaction he wants. You don’t let him have that much. He gets twelve hours of your day, sometimes more, and nothing else. 

“So maybe I should bring the knife,” you remark. 

“Mm, interesting. He definitely wouldn’t see it coming but I think those daggers in your eyes are sharp enough to keep him at bay,” he snickers.  

“If you really want my opinion,” you approach him, “meet him in the den. Have a drink. Keep his hands busy.” 

“Oh, are you worried about me? You think I can’t handle him?” 

“Not worried. I know the kind of man he is. And the kind you are,” you muse. “You should both keep your hands visible. I don’t like cleaning up blood.” 

He laughs again. 

“No coffee, but I can have whiskey? Guess that’s fair,” he turns on his heel and struts into the hall. You follow.  

You won’t say it, but you don’t see why you need to be there at all. It’s hardly the sort of meeting where you need to keep minutes.