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silent-stories · 2 years ago

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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Summary: Eddie was not used to a kind of touch that was not violent until he met you.

Warnings: angst, fluff, domestic violence, blood

1972

Eddie was seven years old and didn't know how to ride a bike.

His mom had left about a year before and Eddie was a child but he wasn't stupid: he knew she wasn't coming back.

His father had lost his job and Eddie didn't know what he did all day - and often all night - outside their house.

No one had ever taught him to ride a bike. But that hadn't stopped him from trying to learn when he found an abandoned bicycle next to a garbage can on his way home from school.

The other kids made it look so easy.

The first time he fell he grazed his knee, which started bleeding when his skin scraped against the asphalt after his jeans ripped.

He wanted to cry but his father said real men didn't cry, so he got up and tried again.

The second time he fell, his arm hit the ground and blood started coming from the scrapes on his elbow as well.

The third time he ended up with his face against the asphalt and a cut on his left eyebrow.

He tried again and again, until even his hands were covered in blood and bruised.

When he got home he used a bottle of whiskey to disinfect the wounds, he didn't know if it was really useful but his father always did it when he came home bleeding.

In his room then, he cried. Not really from the pain of the wounds and the bruises that were starting to form, but because his mom had left him, his father hated him and no one cared about him enough to even teach him how to ride a damn bike.

1974

Eddie was nine years old and he was used to seeing his father come home drunk.

"What the fuck do you want?" the man asked seeing his son as he was stumbling into the house.

Eddie just stood there saying nothing, watching his father struggle to remove his jacket and missing the coat rack, then heading to the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"I told you to buy some beer." He said closing it and turning to look Eddie in the eye.

"I'm nine. They said they won't let me buy it." Eddie muttered and it was the truth.

The father walked towards him and Eddie had to keep from stepping back.

When he reached out his hand for him Eddie flinched but the hand stayed in front of him.

"The money."

Right, his dad was waiting for Eddie to give back the money he didn't spend on beer.

There was just one problem. Eddie had spent that money on a book. He had seen it displayed in a shop window next to a supermarket and hadn't resisted, only now did he realize how stupid he had been.

"So?" Repeated his father, "the money"

Eddie shook his head.

"No?" Eddie could hear a note of anger in his off-balance words. "No what?"

"I don't have your money, sir." Eddie muttered. He shouldn't have bought that book, he never should have.

The father's outstretched hand shot forward the kid and grabbed the child's face, squeezing it between his fingers.

"What the fuck did you do with my money?"

"I'm sorry" the boy murmured as tears formed in his eyes.

"What the fuck did you do with them!?" He raised his voice, his hand still gripping Eddie's face, probably going to have a bruise the next day.

"I-I bought a book." He finally breathed.

"A book?" the father asked, his bloodshot eyes staring into the boy's.

Eddie nodded and before he could understand what was happening his father's hand had left his face and the other, clenched in a fist, reached his face.

Eddie's vision blurred as the punch hit his cheekbone and sent him to the ground.

His head was throbbing and his ears were ringing but he still understood what his father said before disappearing into the bedroom.

"Next time remember not to spend my money on bullshit."

Eddie curled up on the living room floor as he began to sob, one cheek resting on the cold floor as the other felt like on fire.

He stayed there until the sun came up.

1982

Eddie was seventeen and hadn't lived with his father for several years, which was good, but people at school had started calling him "freak."

He pretended that it didn't bother him, that it didn't hurt him and everyone seemed to believe it.

They looked at him with contempt and disgust and Eddie honestly didn't even know why. Was it the way he dressed? Was it because he liked metal?

The jocks had started to bump on him on purpose when walking in the hallways making him drop whatever he was holding in his hands.

But he was already used to things like that.

1986

Eddie was twenty-one and trying to graduate, for the third time.

He was part of a band and at lunch he ate with the other Hellfire members, so he could tell he had found some friends.

But there was also something else. Someone. You.

He'd met you one night when you'd picked up the kids after a Hellfire campaign, complaining that you were sick of babysitting but greeting Dustin by ruffling his short, dark curls, showing that you weren't really mad at any of them.

The thing that surprised Eddie was that you introduced yourself shaking his hand, a common gesture that people did so often but which happened to him so seldom.

He had never told anyone that that gesture had made him feel more "human" and less "freak" than he had ever felt during the last years of his life.

Since that day, every time you went to pick up the kids after a campaign you stayed there a bit more just to talk to him, sitting on a bench outside the school for a few minutes, and Eddie thought it was really weird for him that sometimes he almost wished the game would end soon, to see you again.

You were kind, you were not scared to be around him and you always managed to make him smile.

Sometimes your leg brushed his as you talked and Eddie felt a weird sensation in the pit of his stomach but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

He liked having you close, he liked when your hand brushed his, when your shoulder touched his or when you put a hand on his arm as you burst out laughing at something stupid he said.

And every time he felt something weird, simultaneously feeling the urge to pull away from you, not to let him touch him the way you did, and the urge to push you closer to him, to grab your hand with his and intertwine his fingers with yours or put an arm around your shoulders.

Another thing that amazed Eddie is that at school you would greet him every time you saw him in the hallways, even just with a simple "hey", but you did it every time. He didn't expect you to want others to associate you with him but it looked like you didn't care.

It was when you gave him a hug, one day, that he realized he was completely screwed, because he liked you. He liked you in a way he'd never liked anyone before and didn't know what to do.

"I knew you could do it!"

It was stupid to be so happy for him since it was his third time taking that math test and it wouldn't alone determine the final result of the year but when you threw your arms around his neck, Eddie felt his heart burn in his chest.

He placed his hand on your back and as he held you close, he found himself burying his face in your hair, breathing in your perfume and hoping that moment would never end.

When you walked away Eddie wanted to pull you against him again but you said you were late for art class and ran away before he could say anything.

Eddie stood in the empty hallway for a few moments, trying to sort out his thoughts, trying to figure out what was happening to him.

His thoughts led him to the last time he had had human contact that wasn't any kind of violence. He finally came to the conclusion that you were the first person in many years, or perhaps for the first time in his life, who offered him a gentle touch.

His uncle wasn't one to physically show affection beyond a pat on the back once in a while and his mom probably gave him a hug once or twice when Eddie was four.

That was all.

The rest were just things Eddie preferred to forget.

And now that you had shown Eddie how a hug, or even just a touch, from someone he loved made him feel, he didn't want that feeling to end.

Fuck, he thought locking his locker with the intention of skipping biology class, he was really screwed.

"Thanks for the ride," Dustin said as you got out of your car in the school parking lot.

"You're lucky I have to drive past your house anyway." You rolled your eyes.

"I swear I'm going by bike tomorrow." He said as you walked side by side towards the school.

"Hey" you nudged him lightly "it's okay. I'm just kidding. You know I can give you a ride every day if you need it."

A huge smile appeared on Dustin's face but before he could say something his gaze met the crowd of people gathered in a sort of circle in front of the school. Some shouted, others cheered and laughed.

"What the hell?" You asked before walking towards the crowd with quick steps, followed by Dustin.

When you arrived, it looked like the show was already over.

You shouldered some students to get a glimpse of what was going on. In the center of the circle, Jason Carver was talking agitatedly with a teacher.

"He started it! I just defended myself!" Jason practically yelled at the teacher as he tried to calm him down.

"That's enough. You know very well that fights are not allowed in this school."

Fights?

"I know. And like I said, it wasn't my fault. I didn't start it." He replied confidently.

Liar. Jason was always the first to start a fight.

"As soon as you got here, Mr. Jones, he ran away. It's obviously his fault and he knows it too." Jason's tone was filled with anger and contempt.

Only at that moment you noticed the blood stain on Jason's white shirt, even though he didn't seem to be hurt.

The professor looked around. "What are you all still doing here? Everyone go to class!"

The crowd around Jason and the teacher began to dissipate and most of the students walked away.

"Mr. Jones, you don't understand!" Jason exclaimed dramatically, "that freak has to pay for what he did."

As you heard that word you turned to Dustin and your worried gazes met.

"Eddie." You both said at the same time.

You'd decided your history class could wait and you started looking all over the school for Eddie, you had told Dustin that if you found him, you'd let him know.

After checking out the music room as well, one of the few classes Eddie really liked you figured that if he wasn't inside school then he must have been out.

You looked around hoping that no teacher would see you sneaking out and you went out the back door.

You found Eddie sitting on the ground, his back against the school wall, his head down.

"Hey." You announced your presence slowly walking towards him.

Eddie's head snapped up.

"Holy shit." That was all you could say.

The right side of his face was covered in blood from a cut on his forehead and around his barely open eye was a dark purplish bruise. There were marks on her cheek, as if his face had been pressed into the ground and there was also a small wound on his lower lip.

"It's nothing, really. I'm fine." He said avoiding your gaze. "I've had worse."

"It doesn't look like nothing to me." You squatted down in front of him and wondered if his eyes were watering from physical pain or for some other reason. Up close his face looked in even worse shape and the urge to kill Jason with your own hands escalated to extreme levels. What did he do to his pretty face?

"C'mon, let's go clean up and disinfect the wounds, mh?" You said getting up and holding out a hand to help him getting up.

He stared at it for a moment.

"Trust me. There's no one in the infirmary now." You said.

Finally he grabbed it and got up, his hand was warm against yours.

You pushed the door again and entered the school, you were still holding his hand as you guided him towards the infirmary.

"It will hurt a little." You said soaking a cotton ball in the disinfectant and approaching Eddie, who was sitting on a cot.

"You're missing a class because of this" He said "I can do it myself."

You shrugged, "I really don't like history. Too many dates." Then you focused on his face.

You gently placed a hand on his left cheek to keep his face still and placed the cotton on the wound on his forehead, which fortunately had stopped bleeding.

You expected him to flinch, you knew how much it could hurt, instead he just closed his eyes and leaned into the touch of your hand. He seemed calm.

You finished disinfecting his forehead and pushed his hair behind his ear to clean the blood that had stained his temple.

His eyes were still closed, his hand still gently resting on the side of his face as you disinfected his cheekbone and lower lip.

"All done" you said putting down the blood stained cotton, moving your hands from his face and noting that he already looked much better than before "are you okay?"

Eddie opened his eyes again and his chocolate brown orbs silently stared at you with a look that was very reminiscent of the one of a puppy.

"Eddie." You called to him again, trying to figure out what was going on, then you felt something brush your fingers and you looked down.

His ringed hand had met yours. You watched as he slowly brought it back to his face, not saying a word.

You ran your thumb up his cheek and he seemed to relax as you did it.

"Thank you" he whispered "I like it when you do that."

"When I do what?" You asked.

"Your touch. I like it when you touch me." He muttered.

"Oh Eds." You brought your lips to his forehead for a kiss and then to his cheekbone, just below the bruise, barely brushing his skin trying to be as gentle as possible.

Then you slowly wrapped your arms around him, pushing his body against yours, being careful not to hurt him. He rested his head on your shoulder and his hands gripped the fabric of your shirt in an almost desperate way, as if he didn't want you to leave him.

You held him as you stroked his back and left a few kisses in his dark hair.

You realized that his reaction was probably caused by the fact that he hadn't received much affection in his life and your heart ached at the thought.

He didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve all the awful things that happened in his life.

When you heard the bell announcing the end of first period, Eddie lifted his head and gently pushed you away from him.

"You should really go now."

You cupped his face but with one hand on his neck to avoid touching the wounds and you gently placed your lips on his cheek, on his jaw and then again on his forehead and temple.

"I love you so much, Eddie Munson, never forget that." You said then and he couldn't help but push you back in towards him for a hug.

"I love you too." he whispered.

You knew you weren't talking about that kind of love, not yet. And that was fine, for now.

You reached into his hair and dug your fingers into his curls, your nails scratching his scalp.

"You know what? I already skipped the first period, I don't think it will be a problem to take a day off. We can stay here a bit more."

He just pulled you closer.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson hurt/comfort

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rotzaprachim · 18 days ago

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there’s also just a big problem with differences in culture, aesthetics, and lifestyle that are strongly tied to demographics, geography, and ethnicity- and therefor political orientation- instead being read as indicators of class, with things more common among the urban populations, people of color, young women, and Jews - and therefor liberals - being taken as snobby, elitest and upper class while things more common or associated with rural and white people are real, authentic, middle class, and true. In both cases they’re just ways to spend money that often aren’t inherently progressive OR conservative, because you’ll find urban conservatives and rural liberals, but they are also therefor not sole markers of class, which is why I need people to get a hell of a lot smarter with their class consciousness - I’m sick of liberals doing some woe is me business and leftists repeating conservative logic.

there’s nothing inherently more expensive about having higher value hiking gear and fleeces than hunting gear - but only the first is suss. Hiking is not an inherently more upper class sport than hunting. Yeah you don’t get food from it, but it’s also got a much lower start up cost, and it’s a way for people from densely packed urban areas to become nature. People in cities like coffee shops and cafes because they’re places to meet with friends when your apartment is too small to fit anyone - that isn’t an inherently more resource intensive thing to do than have a house in the suburbs or rural areas big enough for everyone to come over! Ditto support for museums and cultural attractions - these are often free or cut price and safe places to take children or spend time on the city. Ditto things for urban areas, especially working class urban life, like bike paths, bike racks, and bike recharging areas. A top quality urban electric bike is often less expensive to buy and then maintain than a cheap car, esp if you’re a single person and single commuter, as many urban people are. A subscription to a local theatre company or indie movie theatre may well cost less than cable and have something every week. Tofu and hummus may cost less than the most classic meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Good walking shoes and fancy headphones may be essential gear for people who walk miles and take noisy public transport. Overall, a lot of the famous liberal excesses of elitest yuppies and urbanites are often fully logical indulgences when taken in combination with living in much less resources intensive housing, in more tightly packed areas, and with greater walking and public transport.

my point isn’t that any of these things are good or bad ways to spend money. It’s the reverse. (A lot of working class and poor urban dwellers are left out of the above, but a lot of working class and poor rural dwellers are left out of the aestheticisrd Middle America working man miasma of single family homes, trucks, and thanksgiving dinner. In both cases this is about the middle class norms.) Nor is it that there are inherently right wing or left wing ways to spend money. My point instead is that America fundamentally has a problem with thinking that the aesthetics of the more rural areas are “good” and understandable whereas the aesthetics and lifestyles of more urbanized areas are elitest and suspicious for things that are fundamentally just different ways to allocate and spend money in ways that are perfectly logical relative to location. Everyone needs to get a lot sharper if they really want to work out what the problems are.

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seospicybin · 1 year ago

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VIEWFINDER.

PART I

Seungmin x reader x Lee Know. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II

Synopsis: An accidental reunion sets the sparks fly between you and Seungmin, but the relationship takes a turn at the end of the summer and you seek help from your frenemy, Minho. (13,7k words)

Author's note: I didn't mean to make it long but then I saw the word count and decided to put it into two parts. For the birthday boy, Seungmin x

📼 Viewfinder playlist.

Summer is here.

The sun is shining so brightly on the clear blue sky and the air carries the smell of flowers along with its pollen, good thing that you're not allergic.

Another good thing is tomorrow is the beginning of summer break and you can put a hold on the stress of being a university student.

The bad thing is you don't have any plans on how you're going to spend it.

However, for tonight, you have a plan and you have to go home so you can get ready for it.

Your apartment is only a few blocks away from the university complex, you always ride your bicycle to and fro. You put your bag and books on the basket of your bicycle before unlocking the chain lock.

"Congratulations on getting the highest score on the quiz!" Someone says.

Even from how dark the shadow is and the insinuating tone in his voice, you can tell who it is.

You put both the lock and the chain inside the basket before turning around to see him, "Minho, should I be relieved or scared that I can't hear the slightest bit of sarcasm in the way you congratulate me?"

Minho is an enemy because the two of you are competing to be at the top of the class and everyone knows that. His smirk implies that it's the latter.

"I'm trying to be nice and you should too. Buy me drinks tonight?"

You also consider Minho as a friend since he's the only one who knows the pressure of being a devoted student and a great drinking partner.

"I can't. I have to meet Rina's new boyfriend," you tell him.

Minho knows you well enough that he understands right away. Another common thing you have with him is he also rides his bike to campus.

"Who is she dating this time?" He asks while backing the bike out of the rack.

You do the same and walk the bike out of the station, it's not safe to start riding it with people walking around.

"An artist and that's why she wants me to meet them at an art exhibition," you reply.

It's so nice riding through the warm, pleasant breeze and knowing that you don't have to study for weeks. You're paddling your bike slowly and savoring every second passed in freedom with Minho riding his bike next to you.

"Do you have any plans for the summer?" He suddenly asks.

You keep your head looking straight ahead, "Nope but I know I'll be seeing you in the library."

You glance at him and laugh, "It's the only way you can keep up with me," you add with a shrug.

Minho scoffs and slows down as both of you reach the intersection, "Be careful. Next thing you know I'll be steps ahead of you," he coyly taunts you.

You can't tell if he holds his handlebars so hard or if the veins on his arms are always evident like that when your eyes unknowingly land there.

You sneer and say, "That doesn't sound like a threat at all."

The lights turn green and this is when you go separate ways with him. He's turning right while you're going straight.

Before he makes a turn, he turns at you and says, "Just remember. You still owe me drinks!"

As much as you want to beat each other academically and have the same level of competitiveness, you both keep it fair and clean.

And that's why you consider Minho as the frenemy.

The outfit you're wearing is appropriate and appropriate is enough.

There are no limitations in art so seeing the other people dressed for the art exhibition doesn't surprise you at all. What surprises you is how old Rina's new boyfriend looks but you guess it's because of all the facial hair he has.

"I'm Joe," he introduces himself.

"Nice to meet you, Joe," you say with a nice smile.

"Have you looked around?"

"Not yet. I think Rina can show me around," You reply while sending signals at her with your eyes.

"Ah, sure, show her around, babe," he says to Rina, letting her go from his side.

Once you both out of his earshot, you grab Rina's elbow and ask, "How old is he?"

"Oh my God, I'm old enough to date whoever I want," she answers while grabbing two glasses of champagne from a tray.

"No, but seriously, how old is he?"

She hands you a glass and sips her drink, "He's only 31. Relax!"

You have mixed feelings about her dating a guy 10 years older than her but she's right, she's old enough to make a decision on her own.

After one sip of wine, you trick your brain that it's going to help you relax and it works like usual.

"This is his artwork," Rina says with a proud smile.

It's a puddle of mud on a canvas. You're raking your brain for a good minute and still have zero ideas of what it is about.

His boyfriend calls for her from across the room and Rina answers like the good girlfriend she is, "Wait, I have to—"

"It's okay, you can go," you tell her and you are more than relieved to be left alone.

You look at it again and try to make the meaning of this messy piece of artwork when someone takes a stand next to you.

"Do you like it?" The stranger asks.

"Not... really," you doubtfully answer.

Maybe it's because you're a left-brained person, you're more adaptable to logical and orderly things that you can't see what it's all about.

"I understand paintings," you share, quietly tapping the floor as you speak, "but artworks like this..."

You dryly laugh at your incompetence and you know for sure Minho will have a good laugh at it if he knows but not this man, he's only staring back at you, waiting for you to finish talking.

"For example, I understand Dali's Persistence of Memory but The Lobster Phone? That, I'll never get it," you share another embarrassing thing about yourself, unprovoked.

It's better to stop talking and further embarrassing yourself. You look back at Joe's artwork and stare at it hoping to find nothing but to pass the time.

When you thought he would turn away and leave this awkward moment, he asks, "How about photographs?"

"Photographs?"

He nods, "I can show you some."

There's no harm in seeing some photographs, you may not get it but it's better than seeing a puddle of mud. Plus, this stranger seems nice and not judgemental.

"I'd love to see some photographs," you say.

He leads you to the other part of the gallery, walking through two big black curtains to enter a whole different exhibition.

The room is dark. The only source of light is coming from the lamps casting lights on each framed black and white photograph hung on the black-painted wall.

It's somehow atmospheric and intimate, it's quiet except for the low chatter of people discussing these photographs.

You saunter to the first photograph you see while he's there walking next to you, watching you taking a look at it with awe in your eyes.

It's just so pleasant to look at and maybe that's just what art is, it doesn't have to be boxed into one thing. You just meant to feel it, profoundly.

"It's amazing," you say with a dreamy sigh.

He senses that you're being earnest about what you said and smiles. He lets you take a look at it long enough that you start to immerse yourself in it.

"Perhaps, do you know what happened to Sisyphus?"

That gets you completely puzzled because why would he ask about a figure in Greek mythology out of the blue?

"Well, it's safe to say he's still rolling the boulder up the hill," You answer with a soft laugh.

He stays quiet for a while and sweetly smiles at you, a smile that makes him somewhat familiar like you've seen it before.

"I'll leave you to figure it out," he says, walking backward until his figure is engulfed by the darkness of the room.

You start to spiral, going over everything you said to him and trying to guess what triggers him to suddenly lose interest, you come down that it has anything to do with the answer you gave him.

You're greatly familiar with Greek mythology to know that he's condemned to infinitely roll a boulder up the hill for cheating the death twice. Must admit that Sisyphus is a slick guy but what has it got to do with all this? Is this his way of flirting? Is he even flirting at all? Who is this stranger?

To keep your mind distracted, you continue your tour around the exhibition and admire each photograph for capturing not only moments but so many emotions.

When you turn to the last wall, you only realize now that you don't know the name of the artist. You bend down to read the card under the photograph.

Kim Seungmin, it says on it and you swear you heard this name before.

You successfully recollect some of your earliest memories from when you were a kindergartner. You had a classmate named Kim Seungmin, he wears glasses and fluffy hair.

You laugh at it because it couldn't be that Kim Seungmin, right?

There's only one way to find out. You talk to someone who might have known him since she's deep in conversation with someone about the photographs.

"Excuse me, but is Kim Seungmin, the artist, perhaps here? Attending the exhibition?" You politely ask.

She seems to be displeased that you interrupt, she looks at you with eyes widening and says, "I'm pretty sure I saw you walked in with him earlier."

"Oh, you mean the guy—" You stop talking altogether as it hits you.

Sisyphus! The Sisyphus he meant is the name of the rabbit you pet together in kindergarten. This only verified that he is the Kim Seungmin you know.

You look around the room for him but can't find him, you exit the exhibition to bump into Rina.

"I've been looking for you!" She says.

"Have you seen a guy with fluffy hair and he's wearing a leather jacket, cute but also cool at the same time?" You ask while craning your neck to spot him in the crowded room.

"That sounds like my boyfriend but he's not wearing a leather jacket so..." Rina answers.

You hold yourself back from groaning. It's typical Rina in love, so smitten, so all over him, and next thing she knows, she finds solace in a bucket of Ben and Jerry's cookie dough ice cream.

"Let's grab some more wine and have another—"

Rina's voice becomes faint as you keep walking around the room hoping to see him again so you can tell him about Sisyphus the rabbit, that he died one year after Seungmin moved away. Unfortunately, there's still no sign of him.

"Rina,"

"Yes?"

"Is it okay if I leave early?" You ask, "You know how I feel about being in an event like this."

She knows that she's the extrovert and you're the introvert, your friendship is based on opposite attraction. She nods in understanding and says, "Be careful on your way home!"

You give her a hug and mutter, "Thank you!"

You make your way out of the gallery after saying goodbye to Rina's new boyfriend and see a group of people smoking outside and none of them is Seungmin.

The sound of someone revving the engine of a motorcycle startles you as you put on your cardigan. Your head snaps to the source of the sound and see that it's Seungmin.

You walk to the side of the road and open your mouth to call him, immediately refrain as he hands a helmet to a girl and most likely to get a ride from him.

So much for a sweet reunion! You can only watch as he drives away on his motorcycle.

The night takes a turn and you don't want to go home wallowing in this unexplainable feeling alone in your room. You pull out your phone to call someone.

The dialing tone is ringing as you walk to the side of the road and hailing a cab for you.

"I haven't slept yet but my worst nightmare is already calling," Minho says.

You can't see him but you bet he's smirking as he speaks, "I know it's past your bedtime but remember the drinks I owe?"

He catches up on your intention right away and with an exaggerated heavy sigh, he says, "Well, if you insist."

A taxi stops right in front of you and you open the door to the backseat, laughing as you say, "See you there!"

This is how your summer break starts: with a hangover.

The moment you open your eyes, you realize that that is not the only worst thing you do. You wake up and recognize that you're not sleeping on your bed.

A nerd recognized another nerd's bedroom from a shelf of books and another stack of them is on the bedside table.

"Ugh," you groan while rubbing your temple.

You can see the owner of the bed you're in standing, leaning against his desk sipping his coffee.

"What did you do to me?" You ask as you sit up on the bed.

He takes a small sip of his coffee and delightfully gasps, "Nothing but taking care of a drunk fellow."

You scoff and brush your hair to the back, can't think of what happened last night, "I mean, how did you get me drunk?"

He crosses his arms together in front of him and calmly responds, "You were the one who wanted to get drunk last night, not me."

The more you try to remember it, the more your head spins and turns your stomach queasy, "Can I have anything you're having right now?"

"We use the magic words here," he says with a sneering smile.

You sigh and put on a forced smile, "Please?"

Minho smiles in satisfaction and heads to the kitchen. You've been here before so you can navigate your way from bed to the bathroom to wash up. One of his cats aggressively meows when you accidentally cover her with the duvet.

"Sorry, cat!" You mutter, not quite remember their names since there are three of them.

Another cat walks past you as you open the bathroom door and you wash your face, not realizing there's a writing on your forehead until you see the reflection in the mirror.

Minho must had some fun writing "loser" on your forehead with a black marker, you rub it over with soap and water to clean it.

"You don't want to know what I would do to you if it was a permanent marker," you scold as you walk to the kitchen.

Minho is chuckling as he turns and places a plate of breakfast on the small dining table, "I may be mischievous but I'm not diabolical," he says.

It surprises you that he also cooked you scrambled eggs with toast when you only asked for a cup of coffee he was having, "This is not what I expected," you innocently comment as you pull a chair and sit on it.

"You asked whatever it is I'm having, right?" He refills his cup with more coffee.

You start with a sip of coffee and you can feel that the caffeine slowly works its magic, "I thought your usual breakfast would be Russian literature and the economic section of today's newspaper because you know...you're boring," you say with a scornful gaze.

Minho approaches you and puts one hand against the table, displaying his veined arms at you again.

"I'm offended that you said Russian literature is boring," he says, taking your eyes back to his face again.

You forget about what he said once you have a spoonful of the breakfast he made you, it's just egg but it's so good.

Another one of his cats jumps onto the table and nuzzles its head at Minho, asking to be petted and purring when he finally gives what it wants. He checks the time on his watch and says, "I'm afraid you have to finish your breakfast quickly!"

You bite your toast and glance at the clock on the wall, "It's summer. The library won't be open until 10."

He picks up his jacket from the coat hanger, "It's the first day of my summer internship and I can't be late."

Your mouth is full of food to properly speak but you don't want to skip the chance to tease him, "What? You have a Zumba class?"

He dryly laughs and puts his coffee cup into the sink, "I'll be working as Kim Edison for the summer."

"It can't be Kim Edison the columnist who recently won the journalism prize, right?" You ask with an uneasy smile.

Minho doesn't answer but gives you a suck-it smile that is a combination of smirk and evil smug and you hate it so much.

"I give you five minutes!" He shorty says.

With the little time he gives you, you shove as much food as you can and take a long gulp of steaming hot coffee, almost getting your tongue burnt in the process.

You regret having breakfast as Minho rides his bicycle fast as you sit on the back. You get queasy again from the bumpy ride as your hands hold onto the cardigan that you're using to cover your head.

Most of the students are away for the summer break but you don't want to risk being seen riding a bike with him while wearing last night's clothes.

"Stop fidgeting!" He scolds in front of you.

"I almost fell off to the back!" You scold back.

He makes a harsh turn and sends you tilting to the side, you reflexively holding on to his waist from letting that happen.

"You look faint," he cheekily says as he stops the bike right in front of your apartment building.

You can't feel your legs once you get off the bike, "ugh... thank you," you mutter, too nauseated to respond to his teasing.

He checks his watch again and grips the handlebars, "I have to go. Bye!"

Minho doesn't wait for your reply but paddles his bicycle as fast as he can. Guess, he's serious about the internship thing, and that makes you one step behind him.

New plan for the day besides curing your hangover: Find a summer internship.

"It's too late to find one," Rina says, breaking your spirit as you ask her if she knows anyone who needs an intern or something. She's very well connected in the social scene well, that's what an extrovert does best.

"Why are you still dressed in last night— oh, are you...?" She squints her eyes at you.

You would love to deny it but then you would have to tell her where you slept last night, keeping quiet is the best option.

"Why are you packing?" You shift the topic, seeing her packing her clothes into a suitcase.

"I'm going on a trip with Joe," she says with that stupid grin people in love have.

"You've been dating him for only a week, Rina!" You try to put some sense into her.

"So what? Things are going great and it's not like we have a plan for the summer anyway," she says.

"Then what about our movie marathon, having ice cream by the pier, and feeding ducks at the pond?" You list the things you like to do together besides hanging out in your shared apartment for the summer.

"Feeding the ducks is your thing," she says while rolling a folded towel.

She's right and when you think about it again, you can do those things not only in the summer. You should get on your laptop and find a summer internship because who knows?

"At least, tell me where you're going?" You ask as a good friend.

"We're going on a road trip and you know how it is with an artist, we're going to figure stuff out as we go," she gives you a concerning answer.

You bite your tongue to hold yourself back from saying harsh things with good intentions and choose to step back, "Well..." You think of something cheerful to say instead, "Take a lot of pictures and have fun!"

Rina smiles at you as she shoves her makeup into a pouch, "Thank you, babe!"

You're about to leave her bedroom when she remembers something, "I think I know a friend who needs a cat sitter," she says.

Your spirit descends again and before you can make it to your bedroom, the doorbell rings. You drag yourself to open it and are still surprised by his bushy facial hair.

"Oh, hi Joe!" You put on a smile.

"I came to pick up Rina," he says with a fatherly smile or maybe it's because you can't shake the thought that he's ten years older than both you and Rina.

"She's still packing in her bedroom," you open the door wider to let him in, "Come in, please!"

He steps inside and looks around the room, probably scanning for any artsy pieces in an apartment occupied by two college students.

"Coffee? Water?" You offer.

"I'd like a cup of coffee before hitting the road," Joe replies.

There's coffee left in the pot and you pour a cup for him, bringing it for him as he sits on the dining table. Something pops in your head as you hand him the coffee.

"Thank you," he says.

"Hey, Joe..." your palms are already sweaty even though you haven't asked anything.

He looks up after sipping his coffee, "Yes?"

"Do you perhaps know any of your artists' friends who needs... uhm, like an assistant or an intern for the summer?" You sound so awkward but he already gave you a weird look once he saw you're still wearing the dress from last night.

"Oh, I'm not sure but," he pauses to look at the contacts on his phone and scrolls down fast, "I'll ask around."

You hold your hands up at him, "Oh, no, no, no, it's okay if you don't know any I'm just..." you catch someone's name flashes on his contact list.

"You have Seungmin's phone number," you naively blurt out.

"The photographer? Yes, of course, we held the exhibition together," he says.

You hesitate to ask for his numbers and awkwardly smile at him.

"Do you know him?" He asks.

"He was a friend of mine. We went to the same kindergarten but he moved away, well, he and his family moved out of town, and last night, we met again after years and—" You stop yourself from rambling on and on.

"That's so sweet. Here, let me give you his numbers so you can reconnect," he says, giving you his phone so you can send it to your phone.

"Thank you," you mutter while handing him his phone back.

After almost an hour and an impromptu make-out session by the doorway of her bedroom, Rina and his boyfriend finally leave the apartment.

She's dragging her big suitcase with her downstairs and you watch from upstairs as she waves at you before getting into the car.

"I'm leaving. Don't miss me. Don't forget to get out of the house," Rina knows how to embarrass you and make you feel sentimental all at once.

"Okay, Mom," you playfully respond and return her hand kisses.

The cold shower helps with the hangover but it doesn't help with the internship search.

Is everyone going out of town in the summer and leaving their pets because there are a lot of people looking for someone to take care of their pets?

For this once, you have to admit that Minho is one step ahead of you. He's deep in your head and you blame it for getting drunk last night.

You know what? You'll do what Rina told you to do and get out of the house to feed the ducks. You get up but sit back down on the chair as you glance at your phone.

You've been contemplating whether to call Seungmin or not. If you call, what are you going to say to him? Tell him that you asked for his numbers without his consent.

There you go again, overthinking things when you can tell him what happened to Sisyphus. You hit the call button right away, not leaving a second for your anxiety to slip in again.

Your heart is pounding while you're listening to the dialing tone... then it clicks and you hear the rustle of someone picking up the call.

"Seungmin?" You call his name right away just to confirm it's him and not the man with the same name as him.

"Sorry, who is this?" It's a voice that you don't expect to hear: of a girl.

"Oh, I must've called the wrong—"

"No, you're right. It's Seungmin's phone but he's currently busy," she explains.

You should be happy that you are calling the right number but your spirit deflates instead, "Oh, that's okay, I'll just— have a great day!"

You abruptly end the call and decide to settle on texting him about Sisyphus, he can use that information as he pleases. Well, you'd be disappointed if he didn't call you back but you try not to put too much hope on it.

Maybe you should have chosen to get out of the house and feed the ducks.

Something is weighing your chest as you get awakened by the sound of your phone ringing. You stare down and see a book resting on your chest, you must've fallen asleep while reading.

The room is dark, you're too lazy to turn on the lights so you grope around your bedside table for your phone to pick it up.

"Yes, hello?" You croak.

"It's me," Seungmin says.

Your eyes instantly snap open and you lift yourself to sit up on the bed, your fingers brushing your hair as if Seungmin were there and could see you.

"You called me earlier," he says.

"I hope you're not mad that I got your numbers from Joe, he's a boyfriend of my friend, he—" You shut your eyes to keep your mind on track.

"I'm sorry I called you," you apologize even though you're not sure why.

"No, I'm glad you called and I'm glad you asked for my numbers," his voice sounds light and airy through the phone, pleasant to the ear.

You think of something to say without getting awkward, "You were busy when I called so... not sure if you're happy with that."

"Yeah, I was in the middle of doing a photo shoot," he explains with a low sigh.

"I'm sorry," you sincerely say. You were too focused on the girl who answered the call than the real reason why Seungmin couldn't pick up the phone himself.

"Stop apologizing," he says with a low laugh.

"Okay," you say with a smile.

"Can I pick you up for dinner?"

The offer comes so suddenly that you don't know how to respond to it. Frankly, you would say yes right away but you don't want to sound eager.

"I'd love that," you say.

"Send me your address and I'll pick you up."

Unlike you, Seungmin is not afraid to show how eager he is. "Now? Like right now?" You ask for confirmation.

"Yeah. Why?"

You check the time and it's 20 past midnight, you break into laughter because it means one of you is disoriented, "Seungmin, it's late."

There's a pause and then he lowly gasps, "Ah... I've been working all day and didn't notice the time."

"I mean I would love but you've had a tiring day already so..." you hate to reject him but you only need to be the one with initiative.

"How about tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow sounds great," he shortly replies.

"Do you still want me to send you my address?"

"Yes, that would be helpful."

He sounds sweet that your head is already filled with daydreams, "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"See you tomorrow," he repeated.

"Okay."

A part of you don't want this to end but you have to leave room for him to fill himself.

"Goodnight, Seungmin."

"Goodnight."

Technically, the day has turned into tomorrow and you can't go back to sleep knowing that in mere hours, you'll meet him again on a summer day.

It's dinner so you have planned out what time you should shower, and do your make-up and hair, you already picked a dress to wear so that's one less thing to worry about.

Except that Seungmin came earlier than you thought and you were in the middle of doing your hair when he called, telling you that he's outside your apartment building. You dash to the window and look for him.

There he is, standing and holding his helmet in one with the afternoon sun shining down on him, making him look like a dream.

You awkwardly wave at him from the window and Seungmin smiles as he looks up at you.

"Come upstairs!" You tell him on the phone.

"Okay."

Did he grow a few inches since you met or... he just that tall and you only realize it now as you find him standing there behind the door.

"You're ready to go?" He brushes his hair that's already messy yet somehow it's only making him more attractive.

You snap yourself out of it and look away, "I just need to change."

"Okay," he says, sounding calm as usual.

You let him wait inside as you excuse yourself to change in your bedroom. You're already in the dress you planned on wearing but it's most likely that he's taking you on his motorcycle, you change into jeans and a peasant blouse for the sake of comfort.

"Okay, I'm ready now," you announce with a smile.

It will be the first you're riding a motorcycle, it doesn't have that much difference with riding a bicycle, right? Except that the other is with engine and not eco-friendly.

Seungmin hands you a helmet, the same one he lent to the girl that night at the exhibition but you are a grown-up and not going to act petty by refusing to use it.

"Let me help you," Seungmin helps you clip the straps together under your chin.

He fixes the hair covering your face and tucks it inside the helmet, "Safety is sexy!" He says with a flirty smile that flashes at you.

Seungmin gets on the motorcycle and turns on the engine, sending it roaring alive. He offers his hand as support as you climb on the motorcycle behind him.

It's like riding a bicycle, you remind yourself but all that is running through your head is of Minho giving you a ride home that morning.

You almost fall off to the back as Seungmin launches the motorcycle forward, only slowing down when there's an intersection ahead.

"You might want to hold on to me," his voice is muffled by the helmet he's wearing.

"Yeah," You can't hear what he says with the helmet wrapped around your head so tight and the sounds of traffic.

Seungmin takes your hand and puts it around his waist, "Hold on to me," he says louder.

"Okay," you nod to let him know that you can hear him this time.

With how fast he rides and your hand is fisting the front of his leather jacket, the gap between your bodies is close to nonexistent. Sitting behind him, letting you adore his square shoulders and you wish you could just rest your head on his back.

Instead of that, your helmet hits his as he brakes hard at the traffic lights, sending your body crashing into his back. You hurriedly scoot farther to the back.

Seungmin holds your hand before you can let go of your hold on his leather jacket, he holds on to it as he waits for the light to turn green.

He slows down as he rides through the suburban area, taking you somewhere you've never been even though you have lived in the city for years.

It feels nice to ride on a summer afternoon with the air softly caressing your cheeks and the sun feeling warm on your skin.

"I am gutted to know that Sisyphus died," Seungmin says in between bites of dinner.

"The homeroom teacher brought a rabbit that looked like him but I knew that it wasn't Sisyphus," you share and shove a spoonful of mashed potato into your mouth.

"Because he had that black dot on his nose, right?"

You cover your mouth to not let him see you talking while eating, "oh, my God! You remember!"

"Of course," he coyly says, "He was our child. How could I forget our child?"

Our child? Seungmin remembers that too. You and he used to play parents for Sisyphus. But you're going to blame the summer heat for making your cheeks heat.

"So uhm... how did you become a successful photographer?" You shift the topic or else your cheeks are going to explode.

"I sort of... going into it by accident. I was studying abroad for law then I joined the photography club and everything happened," he concisely explains with the always calm yet cool facial expression.

"Everything happened," you repeated with a low laugh.

He takes a sip of water and reclines on his chair, "Just like we happened to meet again."

There is the smile again. It's sly yet nice, flirty yet sweet. He makes you all kinds of things with just one smile.

"I'd love to take your pictures," he says out of the blue.

You shake your head and shyly laugh, "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I think it's the best idea," he makes it sound like it's not a request but an order.

The early dinner you had allowed you two to spend the rest of the night walking in the park, enjoying the sunset from the top of the hill and catching up on each other's life.

Seungmin didn't finish his law school, he went on trips around the world to take pictures and do exhibitions. It's compelling listening to him talking about photography, well, he is at his most attractive talking about the thing he's passionate about.

When it comes to your turn to talk about your life, you realize you have your nose tucked in books instead of exploring the world like him.

"Compares to your my life sounds so boring," you say with a sneer.

"You can't compare your life to mine," he says.

He stops on his track and leans against the railing on the edge of a parking building, looking at you, "You get to finish your school and that's a win for you."

"I'm not there yet," you say, standing next to him and looking at the sun sinking lower on the horizon, leaving the day in a beautiful burst of golden rays.

The sunset passed in a comfortable silence, it's like watching the sun slowly tucked in for the night. You turn to the side and see Seungmin basking in the warm glow of the last slivers of sun.

"Ready to go home?" He asks.

Honestly, you don't want to go home yet but what can you say? Seungmin is working during the summer unlike you. The night air is cool and it's helping you relax on the bike ride home. You're holding on to the side of the jacket instead of his waist to stay appropriate.

Seungmin realizes it as he stops the bike at a traffic light, he pulls your hand and puts it inside the pocket of his leather jacket. You can feel his gloved hand but he looks over his shoulder, "Don't let go!"

You nod instead of verbally answering him against the noisy city sounds. Not sure if you're slowly forgetting your way around the city but Seungmin is heading nowhere near your apartment building.

It's when he takes his bike into a different apartment building that he's certainly not taking you home. After taking off his helmet he helps you take off yours in the dimly lit room of an empty parking basement.

"I thought we were going home," you fix your hair quickly with your fingers.

He puts the helmet on the handle of his bike, "But I didn't say which home," he says.

It's only right for you to get nervous, not only that you in Seungmin's studio slash apartment but he wants to take pictures of you too.

"This is a bad idea. I–I'm awkward," you stammer, clasping your hands together in front of you.

He takes your hand and leads you to the sofa, telling you to sit while he walks to a big collection of cameras from analog to digital and dozens of lenses in various sizes.

"Just relax," he says as he finally settles on his choice of camera.

"Act normal, you know, get comfortable," he picks a lens and carefully attaches it to the camera.

That's the problem. You're not normal in the first place and you're not confident unless someone is talking about your favorite books but weirding him out with your book talk is not the way to charm him.

He takes a practice shot and you suddenly shrivel up, turning rigid on the sofa.

"Relax those shoulders," he says while taking steps closer to you and keeping his finger busy clicking the camera.

You're trying to relax but knowing that the camera is taking pictures of you at every angle. It's so obvious that Seungmin puts down his camera and walks up to you.

"Shoulders down," he says with his hand on your shoulder and gently massages it.

"Sit as you like, make yourself comfortable."

You look up at him and nod as he speaks, helping you to loosen up by rubbing down your eyes. But it's the way he looks at you that convinces you that he means no harm.

"You can put your legs up if you want," he encourages.

You shake your head and shyly laugh, "I can't do that but can I borrow one of your magazines?" You point at the stacks of magazines and newspapers on top of the cabinet.

Seungmin must have taken a hundred of pictures already but that won't stop him. He puts his camera so close instead of using his expensive lens to work, making you giggle at how he leans so close.

His hand reaches your face to tuck a hair behind your ear and calmly, he says, "You have beautiful eyes."

"Oh, no, it's getting ridiculous now," you bashfully say as he goes to the back of the sofa to take a picture.

You're following him, tilting your head to the back while covering half of your face with the magazine you're hardly reading.

Seungmin puts away his camera and then leans down as he pushes the magazine away from your face. Then the next you know is his hand caressing your face and slowly he leans in.

It's as simple as putting his lips on your lips but inexplicably it feels like something you've done a million times already. It's easy, pure but the urge in the way he brushes his lips over and over again also makes it feel like such a long time coming.

You close your eyes as his hand slides down from your jaw to your exposed neck and it stays there until he slowly pulls away from the kiss.

Seungmin smiles as you foolishly stay there and stare at him with your mouth parted open, still reeling from the kiss. He continues taking pictures as if nothing happened.

You compose yourself as fast as you can and look down at your lap once Seungmin is done taking pictures, carefully putting his camera back in its place.

The city view at night reminds you that it's getting late and you might have overstayed, "I'd better—"

Again, Seungmin is ready with his hand outstretched at you to help you get up from the sofa. Once you're on your feet, he puts his arm around you and pulls you close so that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek.

"You'd better what?" His eyes are piercing right into yours.

He makes you nervous but in a good way, "I'd better—"

Seungmin kisses you again and he doesn't hold back this time. His tongue skillfully pries your mouth open and slithers in the second you let him in, invading your mouth to taste more of you.

The kiss is fiery and sets your body ablaze, explosive.

Even though your lungs burning for oxygen, you let out a whimper when he breaks the kiss. You didn't think that he would hear it.

He puts his other arm around you and asks again, "Is there anything you'd better do than this?"

It's amusing to him asking you a question that he damn knows the answer to.

With your lack of knowledge and the sex expertise on a road trip with her older boyfriend, you're left with no choice but to figure things out as you go.

You do the same every time Seungmin takes off a piece of his clothing until they're all littering his bedroom floor. The only thing that's left on you is the white underwear you're wearing, it's not a flattering one but for an unplanned sexy time, you hope it will do.

You hugging yourself while Seungmin keeps kissing you with his hands roaming your body, guess he's trying to make you calm but you're just so aware of yourself and your appearance.

Seungmin sees that so he holds your face in his hands and presses a soft peck on your lips, "Don't hide from me."

He glides his hands down to your shoulders and his eyes are following them as they take your hands away from covering your bare chest.

His one hand is straying from the course and goes down your chest, splaying his hand on your sternum then softly sighs.

"Your heart is beating so fast," he speaks so low yet it's echoing in the dark of his room.

"Are you scared or excited?" He asks as he shifts his eyes back at you.

You swallow air and answer, "Both."

Seungmin smiles in response. Keeping the hand on your beating heart, he presses another kiss on your lips, long and lingering.

He then continues the kisses down your neck, collarbone, chest, and the valley of your breasts and keeps going until he kneels on the floor.

Seungmin looks up as he places a kiss on your abdomen, his lips take a right turn, and kisses your waist and down to your hips. His other hand is hooked on the elastic band of your underwear and he's pulling it down as he places kisses down your inner thighs.

"You're so beautiful," he says while still kneeling on the floor, looking at you with wonder in his eyes like he's seeing of divine.

That inexplicably makes you feel like a goddess and he's on his knees worshipping you. Your hesitant hand makes it to his cheek and he keeps it there, pressing on it then kisses your wrist.

You offer your hand for him this time and help him get up from the floor after getting a boost of confidence from the way he's looking at you.

Taking a step closer, you embrace yourself and this moment, letting him in and take you places.

The kisses he planted all over your body are searing and you feel hot all over especially when he kisses you close to where you wanted him to be.

Both of you wanted it so much and your bodies can't hide it anymore. Without looking, you know you're drenched and his erection is hard to miss.

He pulls a condom out of his bedside drawer and you take it from him, wanting to do him this favor just so you can say it back to him once you roll the rubber down his length.

"And that's why safety is sexy," you say with a sly smile.

Even with your lack of experience in the sexual field, you can tell that it's not always about the performance. Not that Seungmin has problems with that, he's doing it very well, he's fucking you so hard that your body shakes with every thrust but it's the way he softly gazes into your eyes.

You don't even try to make your brain work, you just gaze back into his eyes and all of a sudden, he hastily kisses your open mouth.

"What are you thinking?" He asks with a tender caress on your cheek.

"Nothing," You shake your head and then blatantly say, "It just feels so good."

You don't even try to impress him, your brain is shutting down so everything you say is unfiltered, and that only amuses him more.

Seungmin takes both of your hands and interlaced them together, pinning them on each side of your pillow. With or without him picking up the pace, you're already on the brink of your climax.

"I think I'm—" You barely finish your sentence when you get hit by waves of pleasure.

You're whining against his lips as he keeps holding your hands tightly in his and puts them around his neck so you can hold him as you relish your orgasm.

A few kisses later, you have Seungmin spooning you from behind and his hand is freely exploring your body while he keeps your mouth busy with more kisses.

"Can I have you again?" He softly asks and you nod without thinking.

The sight of his member makes you feel intimidated at first but you surprised yourself at how well you took him earlier. The intimidating feeling is now being replaced by the craving to have him inside you again.

Seungmin holds your thigh still as he pushes his cock from behind and you whine as you feel him entering you little by little.

"Oh, you're so hard," you mindlessly blurt out again.

Seungmin tolerates you so much but instead of getting offended, he brings his mouth close to your ear.

"That's how much I want you," he shamelessly admits at the same time he launches his cock deep inside you.

"Oh!" You moan and muffle yourself with the back of your hand.

He takes your hand away from your mouth, "Keep making those noises for me, baby."

It's like a dream or maybe it is and the worst part of dreaming is that it stops the moment you wake up.

If it wasn't for the morning sun that forces you to wake up, you'd still be living in your dream. Alas, you prepare yourself to be disappointed but when you open your eyes, you realize that it's not a dream.

You're naked under the cover and you're sleeping on his bed,

It happened so that means Seungmin is... you roll to the other side to find the space next to you is empty except for the crumpled sheet.

"I'm here," Seungmin must have seen you looking so disoriented on the bed.

You smile out of embarrassment and lift yourself while clutching the duvet close to your chest. You watch as he makes his way to the bed carrying two mugs of what you assume is coffee from the heavenly smile of it.

He sits on the edge of the bed and sweetly greets, "Morning!"

You're about to say it back to him when he presses a quick peck on your lips. It takes you a while to reel yourself back from the kiss and finally reply, "Morning!"

He finally hands you one of the coffee mugs and you take it with both hands, inhaling the heavenly smell of it before taking a small, careful sip.

Seungmin brushes your hair away and puts it behind your ear, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder before taking a sip of his coffee.

"What do you usually do in the morning?" He asks.

"Not much. Just breakfast, coffee, check emails, reading the news," you regret telling him your boring mundane things and stop yourself from embarrassing you more.

"How about you?"

"I wake up, toast and coffee. I go back to sleep when I don't have work to do," he calmly answers with his hair looking fluffy and inviting you to touch.

"Are you working on something?" You curiously ask since he seems so laid back or maybe it's just you who likes to keep yourself busy at all times.

"Not really but I'll be working on a few things this summer," he replies and puts away his coffee mug, "It's summer break, isn't it?"

"Yes," you shortly reply.

Seungmin places his hand on your back shoulder and draws lazy circles on the skin with his finger, "Do you have any plans for summer break?"

You stall by taking another sip of your coffee before embarrassing yourself again, "No."

His fingers trail down your spine as he softly sighs, "Then you're going to spend the summer with me."

You are usually opposed to a spontaneous idea like this. You need plans, you need orders yet you turn your head to the side to look at him, then say, "Okay."

"Okay," he repeats and leans in to kiss you.

And just like that, a plan is made.

Time is relative.

When you spend the day on your own, it feels like forever but when you spend the summer with Seungmin, a month passes by so quickly.

In conclusion, Albert Einstein was always right.

With Seungmin, you're living the dream life. You're wearing his clothes, living in his place, sleeping on his bed, riding on his bike to explore new places together, you're spending your time with him in your wake and you still miss him in your sleep. Gosh! You're getting loopy in the head.

Seungmin has work to do today, he offered to take you with him but you have to check your place, you're responsible for taking care of it while the other occupant is away on a road trip.

He drops you off outside your apartment building, taking off his helmet just so he can properly kiss you before letting you go.

"I'll pick you up later," he says.

"Okay. Be careful!" you place a long kiss on his lips for the last time, watching him ride further away from you.

The good news is the place is still intact and tidy just like the last time you see it. You clean up the place knowing that it's collecting dust, packing some clean underwear and clothes for you to take to Seungmin's place.

Not sure what time Seungmin will be done with work but seeing a stack of books abandoned for weeks, you decide to return them to the library before getting fined for it.

It feels strange not coming to the library for weeks and the smell of books hits you with a wave of nostalgia. You take your books out of your bag to the librarian lady who's just as surprised to see you when she usually gets sick of seeing you.

"Haven't seen you in a long time," she says while fixing her glasses.

You politely laugh and keep it low remembering that it's a library, "I suddenly have a different plan for the summer."

You're waiting by the desk as she thoroughly checks if there's any damage to the books when someone injects himself into the conversation.

"And the so-called plan is slacking off the whole summer?" Minho says, carrying a stack of books in one hand that makes the veins on his arms pop on his skin.

You turn around and sneer at him, "I'm trying this new thing called 'Get-A-Life' and I think you should try it too."

Minho puts the books down on top of the desk with a low thud, "I'm actually on this thing called 'Get-A-Summer-Job' and I think it works wonders on me."

You look away from him and secretly make a mocking face. The librarian lady pushes a form for you to sign and your phone beeps with a new message.

She glares at you for forgetting to put your phone in silent mode, "I'm sorry."

You hurriedly open to check a new message from Seungmin that he'll be done in two hours and you write a quick reply telling him you'll be waiting for him.

"You know I started to get concerned that you may have decided to give up," Minho says as he keeps the door open for both of you.

The stinging rays of the sun greet you as you step outside, reminding you to stay indoors or look for a shade to shelter in.

"I may be slacking off but once the summer ended, you know that I have never left my place," you tell him with eyes squinted from the bright sun.

Minho slings his backpack on one shoulder, "and that is behind me."

You sigh and shield your eyes with your hand, "It's summer break and you meant to be slacking off on summer break."

And you have two hours to spend on your own before Seungmin can pick you up, unless...

"You're supposed to have fun, you know and I can show you how," You suggest an idea with a grin.

He unlocks his bicycle from the rack and backs it out, he's probably analyzing your intention with his piercing stare, "What do you have in mind?"

You blank out for a moment from being under the sun for too long, "You and me, cold beers?"

"You mean, 'you and I'," he fixes your grammar.

You hold yourself from snapping at him and exhale air, "You know what, I'll just—"

"Okay. But you're paying," he immediately changes his mind.

There's a dive bar nearby where students usually go whenever they need to hit the snooze button on stressful university life and it's way cheaper than the other bars in the area.

You're having a sandwich aside from the cold beers while Minho settles on a tray of chips for the snacks.

"You can just tell me you need someone to accompany you having lunch," he says.

As expected, he's too smart to miss a thing. Not that you're afraid to have lunch by yourself, he happened to be there so why not?

"You can have a sandwich for lunch too," you tell him.

He shakes his head and pulls out a book from his backpack, "I had lunch."

You shrug and take another bite, "Then order as many cold beers as you want."

Minho starts reading his book, sticking his sharp nose in between pages and taking a sip of his beer once in a while.

"Where have you been though?"

You look up from your meal and wipe your mouth with a napkin, "Pardon?"

"I thought I'd be seeing your missing poster on the morning news," he says as he flips a page.

You know he's joking but his calm expression tells you otherwise, "Oh, my God! You're officially diabolical," you shriek.

He puts his book down and looks at you, "Have you ever thought I'd be most likely the one being asked about your whereabouts?"

"I've been going around the city with someone and I know that you don't care but he's an old friend of mine," You recline on your seat and cross your arms together in front of you.

"You can stop worrying about what you're going to tell the police if I went missing," you tell him with a smirk.

Minho takes the information for a moment as if it were a piece of information that needs to be thoroughly processed before going back to his default setting of being a nonchalant being.

He rests his back on his seat and picks up his book to continue reading.

After receiving a text that Seungmin is on the way to pick you up, you paid for the food and beers. The day is warm with the sun almost disappears for the day.

"Do you need to 'Get-A-Ride' too?" He pokes fun at you as he walks his bicycle.

"You must have waited hours to say that back to me," you say with a sigh.

"I can give you a ride home. Just like that morning," he smirks as he gets on his bicycle.

"No, thanks, Minho. I'm getting myself a ride home," you tell him.

He stays on his bicycle with his hands on the handlebars and looks at you, "Do you want me to wait with you?"

Minho actually knows how to be a gentleman, he just chooses to act snobby and cold around you.

"No, it's okay. He'll be here in a minute," you assure him.

He contemplates for a while before putting his foot on the paddle, "Okay, then. Thank you for the beers!"

You smile and wave your hand at him as he rides his bike in the direction of his apartment building.

A few minutes after Minho leaves, Seungmin appears with the sound of the roaring engine of his motorcycle. You're smiling as you're seeing him getting closer and closer.

He takes his helmet off and stays on his bike, watching you walk up to him.

"Hey," you say with a smile.

"I'm sorry, I have a girlfriend," he jokingly says.

You stop on your track, but seeing the sly smile on his face, you know he's playing with you, "Well then, can I get a ride?"

He gestures for you to come closer so he can whisper into your ear, "Oh, you'll get a ride for sure."

As the bike stop at a traffic light, Seungmin would either hold your hand or bring it close to his mouth to kiss it. Tonight, he chooses to rest his hand on your thigh with his gloved finger rubbing the skin.

When the lights about to turn green, he puts both of your hands around his waist. You hold him tight with your head resting on his back as he speeds up, sending the bike gliding through the city streets.

The ride gives you a new kind of high.

Seungmin knows how to get the engine hot and ready, using his hands or his mouth to get you even wetter than you already are. His touch is searing and firm, calculated to make you roar in pleasure. His mouth is hotter than the sun on a summer day, setting you ablaze every time his lips touch your skin.

He knows when to slow down and to speed up, he knows how to brake before sending you to your high early. When he knows that you're close though, he accelerates, he's going all in and freely riding on your body.

Faster and faster, knowing no limits, not stopping until both of you crash and break into smithereens, floating in immense pleasure.

The rush, the adrenaline, the ragged breath of life and death. There's nothing like it.

The ride is worth the high.

When Seungmin isn't working you spend the days exploring new places together.

He's been lending you one of his cameras so you can take your own pictures on the trips you take together on his bike. He taught you how to develop films in his little red room, he's patient enough to teach you every step of the process and not let you touch dangerous chemicals without him watching.

Seungmin also takes your pictures at every chance he gets, doesn't matter if you've just woken up or in the shower, sleeping, or eating a toast on the bed. Pretty sure he's running out of films just taking that kind of picture of you.

It's only fair that you take pictures of him too.

The first thing Seungmin does in the morning is make coffee and he takes his coffee seriously. He grinds the coffee beans himself, he boils the water until it hits the perfect temperature of 205 Fahrenheit before pouring it and he lets the coffee drips into a glass pot.

For you, Seungmin looks the sexiest when he's putting on a serious face. His jaws tensed, making his facial bones more defined and his mouth is slightly pouting without him realizing it. You have taken, at least, a dozen pictures of him looking like that in your camera.

As he waits for the coffee to be ready, he will come to the bed for some cuddles with you or discuss which part of the city you're going to explore today.

Today his routine slightly changes after handing you your coffee, "I'll be away the whole day for work."

"Another photo shoot?" You wildly guess.

He blows over his coffee before taking a sip, "Got invited to a photography club," he vaguely says.

Seungmin invited you when he wanted you to come with him but he didn't today so you guess he wanted to go by himself. It's time for you to get some clean underwear anyway.

"Okay," you answer with a smile.

"How are you going to spend the day?" He asks with a soft caress on your cheek.

"Well, there's not much to do without you," you say with a pout, "I think I'll just go home and get a few things."

Seungmin smiles and presses a kiss on your lips, "Don't bother packing any underwear. You're hardly wearing one around me."

You break into laughter, "Well, thanks to you."

"Are you going to wait for me?" He softly asks, twirling a strand of your hair around his slender finger.

"Always," you answer without a beat.

"I'll pick you up later?"

"Yes, please."

The photography club is doing an outdoor session and it's in the neighboring city, Seungmin leaves after taking a shower and kisses you while you're still snuggling in bed.

You leave Seungmin's apartment in the afternoon, waiting until the day is a little cooler before getting out. You take a taxi to avoid the heat and come home to find that someone is in the apartment.

Taking a cautious step, you peer inside Rina's bedroom which you always left the door closed at all times is wide open. You spot the bathroom door is open as well and decide to check it by tiptoeing until you're right next to the doorway.

Slowly, you peer inside and find Rina in the tub. You barge your way inside and shout, "Rina!"

She's just as surprised as you that she's sloshing water out of the tub, "Fuck! You scared me!"

You hurriedly put a towel for the puddles of water on the bathroom floor, "why are you here?"

"I live here," she innocently replies.

"Yeah, I know but there's still a week left on the summer break," your eyes shift to the box of macaroons on the side of the tub and you can tell right away that the answer is not going to be good.

"Joe and I broke up," she says and shoves a whole macaroon into her mouth.

You kind of saw it coming but you don't want to be in her face saying I-told-you-so. You choose to be a good friend and sit on the closed toilet, "Oh, no, what happened?"

She shakes her head and stuffs her mouth with more macaroon, "That jerk dropped me off in the middle of nowhere!"

"Oh, my God! He's the worst!" You say while disgustingly looking at the crumbs of the macaroon floating on the surface of the water.

Rina has always been the brightest and the most confident out of you two. It's saddening how miserable she looks right now when she can get any man who's twice better than Joe.

"Why don't we get drinks tonight?"

Rina gives you a puzzled look, "You once said it's a bad idea to turn to alcohol in times like this."

You meekly nod because you did say that to her but that was coming from the you who hasn't met Seungmin, "It's true but... why not, you know? As long as I'm there watching over your alcohol intake, I think we'll be okay."

Rina can't get out of the tub faster than this, she doesn't even bother putting on a towel and walking to her bedroom naked.

"What happened to you?" She asks after taking three shots of Jägerbomb as a starter.

"Nothing happened. Just met a guy, not much," you nonchalantly answer and take just a tiny sip of your first shot.

"Met a guy? That means a lot coming from you," she says, chasing after her tequila shots with a glass of coke and rum.

You would be offended if she wasn't a friend but she's always been an outspoken person, "I'll introduce you to him someday."

That reminds you to send a text to Seungmin telling him you'll be sleeping in the house tonight and most likely take care of Rina's hangover the next morning.

"For your information, this guy drives a motorcycle," Minho appears out of nowhere carrying his drink in his hand, and plops down next to you.

"Oh, Minho! I miss seeing your pretty face," Rina half-heartedly says.

"And I miss seeing you drunk," he says back.

You elbow his side and stop him from spoiling more about Seungmin, not the right time to tell Rina about him when she's heartbroken and halfway drunk.

"What's going on, Rina?" Minho coyly asks, ignoring your warning glare.

She lets out a heavy sigh and stacks her hands on the table before resting his chin on it, "Never fucking date artists," she gives him an irrelevant answer.

"They're cocky, they think they're mighty and right and know the world better," she rambles on and on.

Rina gulps her drink and not even wince at the bitter aftertaste, "Fuck them and their free-spirited shit."

Minho holds his drink with one hand even with the drops of the condensation rolling down his hand, "Once the free spirit has taken hold of a man, there's no way of getting it out of him."

Rina looks at him with unfocused eyes then raises her glass at him, "Damn right!"

It doesn't mean that all artists in general. Even though Seungmin is an artist, it doesn't mean that he'll act the same as Joe. He's kind and caring, he's intuitive. He may be spontaneous to the point of almost impulsive, but he's great. You don't know why you should feel called out with what Rina has said.

Minho kindly offers his help to walk Rina up the stairs until you get her to her bed. You take off her shoes and cover her with the duvet.

"Want a glass of water?" It's the least you can do for him after helping you carry drunk Rina.

"Yeah, please," he still catches his breath when he answers to you.

"How do you know the guy I'm seeing drives a motorcycle?" The question just sort of pops into your head.

Minho drains the glass of water before answering, "I saw you and him at the intersection the other day."

Seungmin has been giving you rides to and fro, it'll be impossible if Minho hasn't seen you on the street once. You walk him to the threshold and watch as he walks out the door.

"Thank you for the help," you mutter.

"No problem," he coyly says.

A moment passes just you and him looking at each other as he stands there with a line drawn in between.

"Goodnight, Minho," you say for the last time.

"Goodnight," he says back with his voice low.

Rina's words are lingering in your head after not getting a reply from Seungmin the whole night.

Maybe he forgot or his phone died. There are so many possibilities but he is your Seungmin, you knew him from kindergarten, he may have gotten rid of the glasses and the braces, but it's Seungmin.

One thing for certain is to avoid talking about Seungmin, especially his profession when Rina is still in this state, a mix of hangover and still completely heartbroken.

"I bought you soup," you murmur as you brush her hair while she's still sleeping on her bed.

Rina is slightly stirring in her sleep and snuggling to her pillow.

"Heat it before you eat it okay? It'll help with the hangover," you tell her again.

She hums in reply and clutches at her duvet even though the day is warm since it's almost noon. You quietly leave the apartment to go to Seungmin's place.

You smile the second you see him standing next to his camera collection while cleaning one of them with a small cloth.

"I miss you," you murmur as you hug him from the back.

Seungmin carefully puts down the camera, then pulls your hand, turning around on his feet to see you. He looks at you up and down, then flicks his eyes back at you.

Oh, you forgot how meticulous he can be. He probably notices that it's the same dress you were about to wear on the first date.

He cups your jaw in his hand and compliments, "You're beautiful!"

Oh, that's not what you expected him to say but it's good. Maybe it's because you've been wearing jeans a lot with him that he finds you looking different in a dress.

"Now, give me a twirl!" He orders as he takes one of the cameras.

"You want me to–" you ask for confirmation before you're embarrassing yourself as usual.

"Yes. Spin for me!" He has his camera ready and aimed at you.

You take a step backward and spin on your feet for him, sending the hem of your dress floating around you. You keep spinning as he endlessly takes pictures without stopping.

"I'm getting dizzy," you tell him while half laughing.

Seungmin is also laughing and he finally stops taking pictures, he walks up to you to wrap his arms around you. He stares into your eyes for a moment, then softly kisses you on the lips.

"I miss you too," he says against your lips.

You don't want to sound demanding but seeing Rina going through her heartbreak reminds you to be cautious about who you're giving your heart to.

"You didn't reply to my text," you tell him with your hands on his chest.

"I'm sorry," he simply apologizes.

That should be enough. He knows he's at fault and he apologizes for it, that should be enough to put your mind at ease. Or so you thought.

"I have something for you," he takes you to the bedroom and sits you down at the end of the bed.

Seungmin is rummaging inside his backpack to pull out something, it's something familiar, a pack of jelly candies. You can confirm as he opens it right in front of you and he takes one of the ring-shaped jelly.

"Do you remember this?"

You stare at it and remember this is how you and him became parents to Sisyphus, you got married at the playground with him putting on the same jelly ring on your thumb because your fingers were too small for it back then.

You nod as the memory is playing in the back of your head, "Of course."

Seungmin smiles and puts the jelly ring on your ring finger, kisses it after. You and him look at each other and somehow it feels like you're getting transported back in time to when you were both still five years old.

"I'm happy that we meet again," he intertwines his hand with yours on your lap.

"Me too," you say with a gentle squeeze on his hand.

Meeting him again feels like fate and for once, you're not going to search for any logical reasons behind it. You want to let go, you want to set yourself free.

You close your eyes and lean in until your lips meet the softness of his lips, melting them together into a kiss that breaks your heart open.

Seungmin lays you down on the bed and then he lays down next to you, his hand trailing the side of your body while his lips endlessly brushing over yours.

"It's crazy how I can't stop kissing you," he mutters with his lips glistening wet and red.

Hearing that only makes you want to kiss him more. You overlap half of his body with yours, your leg is hooked around his leg as his hand now resting on the arch of your back.

He draws his hand back to the nape of your neck to find the zipper of your dress, then he pulls it down slowly. The zipping sound echoes in the room that is now flooded with the afternoon sun.

After parting it open, he wastes no time to slip his hand and touches your skin. He reluctantly lets go of the kiss and props his elbow against the mattress as you stay lying on your stomach next to him.

With only his fingertips, he lightly touches your skin before replacing them with his lips, making a trail of kisses down your spine.

You lowly moan for every wet kiss he plants on your skin and moan as he crashes his lips on you again, kisses you so hungrily. When you think his hand will stop where the zipper ends, it keeps going until it stops on the back of your thigh, right where the hem of your dress is.

"Gosh! You're so soft..." he speaks so low it's almost like a whisper.

Seungmin puts his hand under and gently squeezes on the flesh on the back of your thigh, his finger is teasing the lacey fabric of your underwear.

Your hand makes its way to the collar of his shirt, popping the buttons open by yanking at it while trying to keep up with his kisses.

He's palming your ass cheek in his hands long enough until he can't help himself, he parts your legs open to make a space so he can touch you there.

You're moaning into his mouth as he slides his finger inside you, he pulls it out only to add another finger into you. You feel full with two digits inside you but that's because he knows what to do with them.

"Oh, Seungmin..." you sigh with your eyes fluttering shut.

You have to actively tell your brain to drag your hand down his bare chest and touch him there, doing the same favor for him.

His semi-hard cock sprung out of its confine the second you pull his underwear down, wrapping your hand around it and slowly stroking it, up and down as slow as the way he kisses you right now.

With the bright daylight, you can see that his cock is red and veiny, pulsing with so much desire in your hand. Using your thumb, you rub the tip in slow, circular motions.

"I can feel you clenching around my fingers," his lips brush yours as he speaks.

You giggle in response and that only exhilarates him more that he tugs at your lower lip and gently bites at it, "I'm so impatient to be inside you."

You hastily kiss him with tongue and all, "Want you inside me too," you whine.

Sex used to be something that makes you anxious and falls apart from the inside. However, with Seungmin, it's so easy and natural, that you're not afraid to ask for what you want, where you want to be touched, and how you want to be touched.

Most times you believe it's not the sex itself that makes the whole experience good but it's the way he treats you during and even after the sex.

Seungmin turns to your neck, littering the sensitive skin with hot and wet kisses. Each kiss is longer than the previous until he pulls away with a low gasp.

"I have to tell you that we run out of sexy," he suddenly shares.

You look at him in confusion, "Huh?"

He softly kisses your jaw and then your lips, "We're running out of condoms."

With how often you have sex, it's no surprise that the two of you blow a big budget on condoms. But you're always taking your birth control even when you're not that sexually active and you trust Seungmin to do it without the second layer of protection.

"We can do it without," you tell him.

Seungmin looks like he has just received a piece of news that's hard for him to comprehend. He only looks at you with eyes wide and filled with unexplainable glints.

"Are you on birth control?" He asks for confirmation.

"Yes."

"Is it okay with you?"

"I trust you," you earnestly tell him.

Seungmin softly smiles hearing your words before leaning in, kissing you ever so softly like he's kissing the wind.

Taking his position by hovering above you and you're still lying on your stomach under him, he lifts the hem of your dress, then pulls your underwear down.

He throws away his shirt and takes his time to tease your entrance with his cock, either he does it to prepare you or himself.

You look over his shoulder to see that Seungmin is putting on a serious face, "We can take it slow."

He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, "I like slow."

The speed is not the issue here, a raw groan rips out of him as he pushes his hard cock inside you. Without the layer of protection, his cock becomes sensitive and he can fully feel you, how your walls wrapped so tightly around him.

He curves his hands under yours and buries his head in your neck, taking a moment to adjust himself inside you. You guide his hand to fondle your clothed breasts together with him.

"You feel good inside me," you mewl as he plants his mouth on your shoulder.

His cock feels incredibly good and hard, you can feel it throbbing as you said those words to him. It's like having sex for the first time again.

"Oh, you have no idea," he sighs with a haste kiss on your lips.

Seungmin is thrusting into you just as he promised, slow and steady. You crumple the sheet under you as you're cumming already around him, not sure if he knows as he keeps the motion of his hips going.

He pauses to change positions, turning you over to lay on your back this time, and this way, you can see how magnificent he looks under the sun.

The broad shoulders, the tousled hair, the clenched jaws, and the muscles on his body, oh, Seungmin is just perfect.

"You're perfect..." you say with a dreamy sigh.

He can see the admiration in your eyes as you stare at him with your hands turned up on the bed, he softly smiles and leans in to kiss you.

"No, you're perfect," he says back with his face only inches away from yours.

Seungmin knows how to take control as he adds speed to his thrusting, sending you close to your second orgasm. He loses control a little after you cum, holding your hands by the wrists and pinning them on each side of your head.

"Mmh, yes, yes..." you moan, getting closer and closer to your climax.

From the way he's throbbing inside you, you reckon he's close to his high as well. He's not stopping even after you're cumming for the second time, he keeps chasing and chasing...

"Oh, fuc—" his curse falls short as he collapses on top of you.

"You're cumming inside me, mmh?" Your hand is tangled deep in his soft locks.

That reminds him of what he should have done, pulling out of you as he planned but you stop him, holding him close as he's coming down from his high.

"Stay inside me," you say as you hold the side of his face and let him crumble into your arms.

The two of you spending the rest of the afternoon nestling on the bed, cuddling and talking, passing time like this with him feels even more intimate than sex.

Seungmin takes your hand and makes a trail of kisses down your inner arm, stopping when his lips meet your knuckles. He takes your finger adorned with the jelly ring and puts it into his mouth, taking the jelly ring with him and chewing on it.

"You eat our wedding ring!" You blurt out.

He pecks your lips, "I'm hungry. Let's order something!"

There's only one week left to summer break and you want to enjoy every second you get to spend with Seungmin, even though you have to lie to Rina about the guy you're staying in with, you're not going to let anything get in the way of your happiness.

After dinner, you both take a shower together. Seungmin offers to wash your hair for you, his fingers applying gentle pressure on your scalp and meticulously washing the suds off your hair before moving on to wash your body for you.

He stands behind you, one hand holding one side of your waist while the other is slowly lathering your skin with a bar of soap.

Even though you're taking a cold shower, it doesn't stop the temperature from rising inside the shower. His lips taste cold and warm when he kisses you, his hands are slippery yet firm, and the heat his body is emitting seeps into you as he holds you close against him.

The second both of your naked bodies hit the bed, it's instant coziness. You feel snug and content lying so close to him under the cover.

"I don't want summer to end," you sadly tell him.

"Me too," he seconds your remark.

Keeping your head still with his hand holding your chin, he slowly kisses you with his eyes closed, "Goodnight," he softly murmurs.

You give him a long peck on the lips in return and say it back to him, "Goodnight."

It's almost 1 a.m. The summer night is peeking through the windows with the stars winking at you and the warm breeze slipping through the cracks of the windows caresses your cheeks. You can't sleep. You are happy.

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teaboot · 1 year ago

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I don't know what cyclist needs to hear this but many major department stores keep exterior CCTV camera coverage on bike racks specifically in case of bike theft and if you show up there and chain your bike to a random garden display or disability parking sign or fucking INDOORS you look like a huge asshole. Also I don't give two shits if you "Don't Have A Bike Lock", get a fucking bike lock, holy shit, you're worried about someone stealing your bike and you won't even do the bare minimum to take responsibility for keeping it secure? NO you cannot leave it on the wheelchair ramp NO you cannot drag it with you and mark up the flooring you can lock it ON THE BIKE RACK WE HAVE PROVIDED or you can stay the fuck home. I do not care if you paid ten thousand dollars for your bike. You know what 12% of $10,000 is? $1,200. The taxes on your bike could pay for a fucking titanium astronaut bike lock. Keep bitching at me and I'LL steal it. That bike is worth five months of my rent. "I guess I'll take my business elsewhere". Fuck off. You were going to buy three bananas and a vitamin water and snark at our teenage cashier, we don't want your business. Shove your cleats up your ass. Tour de France looking motherfucker

#If you're one of the good cyclists I am kissing you on the mouth #Never change

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atarathegreat · 10 months ago

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Angry-Chiro Shinichiro Sano

Nestled down a dark, wide alleyway between two much larger buildings was SS Motors. A squat little mechanics shop where you could buy spark plugs, gas caps, and tools on the shelves, and in the back was the garage. The garage was a little smaller than the whole building, big enough to fit a car while still having enough room for the mechanic to shift how he needed.

Shinichiro Sano took tremendous pride in his little shop, even had dreams that it would be bigger and placed in a more accessible space in the city. Fixing things was his passion, ripping out the bad parts or, in his current case, gutting a whole bike frame, was also part of the fun. Normally.

"Mother-" The sounds of ricocheting tools echoed up to the shop where you were helping customers. Steel on concrete or bouncing off the other metal work tables made you cringe as you hurled excuses again and again at Shinichiro's expense.

"Our mechanic is currently indisposed." You were all kind smiles and soft words when people were asking for him. They would sigh and nod and leave names and numbers, all while hearing the temper tantrum from the back of the shop. It wasn't new and many of the patrons were ignoring it for the most part, but you still worried about Shinichiro and the temper you knew he was capable of having.

While the rest of the shoppers were busy, not that there were many in such a secluded shop, you snuck back to the garage and peeked in. Shinichiro was fixing the bike frame back on a stand, leaving you to assume that maybe he'd gotten pissed enough to kick it over. "Shini?" The sound of your voice was enough to make him take a deep breath and look over his shoulder. He looked tired, his dark eyes not even really looking at you, "It...the bike...bolts..." Shinichiro was so mad he could hardly form a coherent sentence as he waved both arms at the frame, and that was fine, you were used to piecing together the issues. "It's alright. Steady hands, remember? Take it slow." Another soft smile and a little wave as you returned back to the front counter.

Closing early was surely going to set Shinichiro off even more, if he ever came out of the garage, but you closed early despite that. It wasn't good for business if the manager slash mechanic slash owner was seen as an angry man who couldn't keep tools from becoming an airborne item. Wrenches weren't meant to be birds and bolts definitely weren't rain drops.

"Son of a bitch!"

You sat up in bed, rubbing quickly at your eyes as more clanging woke you from a short nap. It was dark and your eyes hadn't yet cleared enough for you to see the bright red lines on the alarm clock. Moonlight almost kept you from tripping over the pile of shoes, your stumble becoming a valuable reminder that you would, eventually, have to buy a shoe rack. Cold air hit you quickly as you stepped from the mini living quarter and you reached back in to grab a coat before heading back out to trudge through the shop and to the garage. It got colder the closer you got.

"Shinichiro?"

The man turned quickly, a glare set in his features, as if a sculptor had snuck in and using clay and water to fix his beautiful smile into a scowl. "It's freezing, darling, come inside." You crossed the coat over itself to pull it tighter in hopes to keep some semblance of warmth for your skin.

"Can't. This stupid fucking thing isn't working with me and now this bolt won't even line up correctly." He slammed a wrench to the ground, glaring at the gas tank he was trying to connect to the newly cleaned bike frame. "To top it off, the rust took me nearly all day to get off and I can't even track down the right kind of seat for it!" Shinichiro huffed, leaning back against the toolbox, "How am I supposed to fix this by my deadline?"

Tools and dirty rags covered the garage floor as you stepped around and over them and bigger parts, crouching next to him, "How about I hold the tank steady and you secure it, and then we go in so you can get a drink, eat dinner, then we'll go to bed?"

Shinichiro shook his head, wiping a rag at the frame as if he was doing something, though he knew he just wanted to look busy, "I set a deadline for myself, Y/n, I want, need, this damn thing to be on the streets come spring." He always reached the goals he set for himself, so you knew it would kill him for yet another deadline with this particular bike to be pushed back.

It already wasn't a promise that he would've found the frame in Puerto Rico, and then the airlines tried to run you both around in circles over the metal until you went in and dragged it out by yourself. And then all the parts up to this point had to be ordered and the deliveries were delayed due to the winter weather, further ruining Shinichiro's plans. He stayed up night after night just to get a little bit further along in the process, all while neglecting his bodies needs for food, water and sleep. Being cooped up in the cold, horribly lit garage wasn't good for him. He looked gaunt and exhausted.

A heavy sigh fell from his lips, getting trapped somewhere between the rusty trashed parts and pile of boxes filled with new parts that had yet to be used. "I can't let it sit for a long time, I'll never get back to it." His bones spoke loudly as he stood and stretched, each pop was another cry for rest.

"You'll return to it, Shini." A weight was lifted from his shoulders when you smiled like that, like you believed in every move he made and every decision he was set on. "You never leave anything unfinished, y'know." The warmth from your hands was stolen from you as you held the tank steady for him, "And you can always call on me if you need help. I can work more than a register."

He was sure you could absolutely do more than a register, but your hands weren't supposed to be covered in grease like his, or calloused like his. You were supposed to have clean hands, manicured hands, dainty hands. Yet you didn't seem to care about any of that. Not as you leaned over the de-rusted handlebars to hold the gas tank so Shinichiro could fix the washer and bolt where they belonged and tighten them.

#anime #manga #x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #shinichiro sano #sano shinichiro #shinichiro sano x reader

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lesbiangiratina · 6 months ago

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Missing link testament when i chain them to the bike rack outside the convenience store while i go buy chips then we go back to my house and share the chips (they love this)

#sol’s just keeping an eye on them hes not involved otherwise #i can get him a beer ig #the kat goes meow

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allthegothihopgirls · 5 months ago

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i'd like to think that bruce is so over trying to control how the batkids spend his money that he's just completely desensitised to how much they actually use sometimes.

it starts off with small things, jason using bruce's card for his most expensive bike parts, dick buying designer sportswear for his acrobatics classes, things that bruce doesn't even notice or care for, although the normal person definitely would.

he tries to talk to dick when he replaces his broken watch with one that was 10x more expensive, but gives up because honestly he would have done the same and can't produce any reasonable arguments for punishing him. (rich boy problems)

a childhood consisting of everything you want and then some, and lifelong financial unawareness kinda makes it difficult to police your kid who has access to your billionaire bank account.

then it gets worse. tim comes along and no one even knows what he's been buying, but he's racking up bills larger than what even bruce himself spends on a regular month. dick buys his first apartment, upfront. and every time jason gets pissy he's stocking up on the latest technologies and going on a huge costco trip.

at this point bruce, like the transition from pup to dog, hasn't ever really stopped and acknowledged that at some point, it changed. of course he knows, but it's never been an issue for him so he can just let the fact exist without having to know the details.

it's notable that although steph is not even bruce's kid, she's still spending her fair share. she took it upon herself to purchase a beach house on the other side of the country, which she travels to bimonthly with tim or cass.

cass never spends much. on the monthly statements you'll find that she's purchased maybe a handful of back row tickets to various ballets and musicals, she's gone out with steph to get their monthly upkeep (hair, nails etc), and paid to take a couple local dance classes. she doesn't need much else.

damian doesn't actively try to send bruce bankrupt (unlike jason in a mood), but being as young as he is, he doesn't have the greatest concept of a dollar's worth. he spends a lot on the pets, some things more necessary than others, such as alfred cat's custom interactive electronic playhouse in the batcave... that has 6 different rooms and 2 floors.

in conclusion, excluding cass and babs, every one of bruce's legitimate and illegitimate kids is awful with his money, and will be the reason that he one day looks in the bank and realises they might just send him broke eventually.

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introvertedandscared · 22 days ago

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i was recently given a writing prompt simply titled 'blue' on an online forum i use, and wanted to try my hand at doing something for it.

i'm actually really proud of it- i dont know if its my best work, it always feels that way after i make something new, but it was really therapeutic to write and hey, practice makes perfect. ill never be any good if i dont work towards it.

this piece is an expression of my gender and identity, told through a narrative perspective. most of these events are either heavily fictionalised or not actual events in my life, and i'm unsure if the main character is actually me or not, but it is heavily related to my personal thoughts, feelings, and history.

its about 959 words, a short read, enjoy! and keep an eye out for more writing on this blog if you liked this ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

Blue

My favourite shirt is blue. Not a bright, attention-catching blue, but a soft one. Like blue hydrangeas. That’s not why it’s my favourite—I don’t even like the colour blue all that much—but it’s what everyone notices about it. When my mother comes into my room and asks for the laundry, she’ll point out ‘the blue one that you wear all the time’. When my friends and I are coordinating our Halloween plans, they ask to borrow my blue shirt for their costume. My brother will tell me that my blue shirt has somehow ended up in his closet. I’ve come to think of it more as a title than anything else. My Blue Shirt. All words capitalised, because they are important.

The reason it’s my favourite shirt is because it’s mine. I bought it with my own money—I had a whole 15 bucks I’d earned from babysitting—at the small thrift store on the corner after school on a Tuesday. It had been the first thing I’d picked up off the rack, not even checking the price or size. I had a curfew, and I knew that if I didn’t buy something that afternoon, I never would. I was 12, and the shirt I grabbed was 3 sizes too large, but I didn't care. I wanted it.

I still remember the woman behind the counter that day. She was probably middle-aged. At the time, I was transfixed by strands of her greying hair. She seemed radiant and wise. Untouchable. She was beautiful.

When I laid the shirt out in front of her, she looked directly at me for the first time since I’d entered the store, an amused expression playing across her face.

“You know this is for a man, right?” She asked, taking in my short stature, my girlish pigtails and sport shorts. My t-shirt that had recently started clinging to all the wrong places on me. I hated my clothes; my mother bought them all. She asked me for my opinion, sometimes, but I was only ever given the option to choose between the lesser of two evils. This shirt or that one. Those skirts or these jeans. Lately, I’d just let her take over completely, letting my eyes wander through the aisles while she shopped. No matter what store we were in, my gaze would always land on the men's section. I always let it linger for a second too long.

“It’s… for my brother. Last minute costume change for his, um, dance team. He needs something blue,” I mumbled through my excuse, terrified the woman would question me more, but she’d already started ringing my purchase up. The bubble of hope that had been growing in my chest ever since I’d ridden my bike out of the school gates that afternoon finally burst, into something bright and fiery and right. Something completely new.

Later, at home, I tried the shirt on in front of my mirror. It reached down to my knees and looked utterly ridiculous, but it also didn’t hug my torso and hips trying to accentuate not yet existent curves. It made my body little more than a formless mass of cloth.

Five minutes after I put it on, my brother walked by my bedroom door. He took one look at me and laughed, and I laughed with him. He said I looked ‘stupid as shit’—words I still found scandalous at that time—and I’d agreed, but once he left I couldn’t bring myself to reach my own eyes in my reflection. I was scared of what I’d see.

It’s been four years, and I still have that shirt. I’m wearing it now, bent low over the bathroom sink, scissors clutched tightly in my left hand, watching my hair swirl down the drain. I feel bile rising up in my throat at the sight, but it’s not from… disgust or panic. It’s- fear. I am scared to see myself. I am scared to know, because once I do there is no going back. It may not seem like it, but I am not one to dwell on the past. I live in the now. The now where I have just sheared away all of my hair at 3 AM, in the house my great-grandparents built with their own two hands. I wonder if they would be disappointed in me.

I don’t know if my mother will be mad—it’s hard to tell with her—maybe she’ll scold me, or laugh and schedule an appointment to get the mess I’ve made fixed, or maybe she’ll reach out, eyes soft. Maybe she’ll finally see me.

But I need to see myself first. I have been blind for far too long.

I steel myself—taking a sharp, shuddering inhale of air—and look up into the face of the mirror before me. I look up, and it feels like the final piece slots into place. The final piece of a puzzle I’ve been trying to solve for four years. For my whole life.

The face staring back at me is no longer a reflection but a reality; the burning feeling in the centre of me flaring to life, consuming everything I thought I was.

I press a gentle hand to my chest, pressing down the two masses of fat and connective tissue that have always seemed to burden me more than my peers. I let the folds of blue obscure them until it almost looks as though they are not there. I wish more than anything that they weren’t.

I take myself in, gaze reverent and disbelieving.

My blue shirt is my favourite shirt, because unlike all my others, it fits perfectly. Ever since I first bought it, it has fit perfectly.

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unhetalia · 9 months ago

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I wanted to do those posts about how we imagine each characters' features, then realised there were so many characters I wanted to do them for! Decided to start it off with the NA sibs.

America:

Baby faced. Soft, delicate features and slightly rounded cheeks, which makes his pouting very effective. Long eyelashes, big eyes. America The Beautiful is real and he is a menace. Physically 19-20, but his IDs claim he's older.

He's 182cm/5'11.

His hair is a light golden blonde, and skin has a natural medium tan. His eyes most closely match A17 blue. Because of his skin, I imagine America is often considered mixed race by humans.

Despite America's constant preoccupation with his weight, he isn't overweight. He doesn't have abs, and his stomach is soft - but it's flat. Most of his physical activity comes from being energetic and curious - he does a lot of hiking with Canada and Mexico, and he bikes everywhere because he secretly can't drive, so while he's physically fit, it doesn't translate to a superhero body, to his endless disappointment. Though he has incredibly strong legs on top of his insurmountable strength.

America l o v e s colours. He tends to buy all of his clothing second-hand, so his fashion can mostly be described as 'eclectic'. He is not known for being fashionable among the other Nations.

Canada:

He and America don't actually look very alike, and Canada thinks its more proximity that has people mistaking him for his brother all the time. Canada doesn't have America's baby face, and stopped getting what he wanted through pouting long ago. He has a sharp jawline and can be described as strikingly handsome, when people bother to look. He has the same long lashes and big eyes as his brother and are physically the same age.

He's two inches taller than his brother (6'1), but he slouches so much that they look the same height. He has a few suits for world meetings, but all off the rack. France despairs, but knows better than to buy him anything.

His hair and skin have a cooler undertone - his hair is lighter than America's and his skin is pale. His eyes most closely match A60, and looks purple in certain lights in the same way Elizabeth Taylor's did, but it is actually blue. He also doesn't actually need glasses, and wears them only because his brother had refused to wear his own unless he also had them, years and years ago. He's too used to it now, and it has sentimental value.

Canada is an avid hockey player, hiker and all around fitness buff, and his body secretly reflects that, underneath all the layers. He's broader in the shoulders and waist than America, and more muscular, to his brother's endless, ENDLESS bitterness. He's also very disciplined with his eating, and follows an athlete's diet. He REALLY cares about Hockey, guys.

HOCKEY JERSEYS. LAYERS. LOUNGEWEAR. He has the wardrobe of a typical sportsmad lad. Waterproof steel-toed boots, something he and Australia both extol the virtues of. He likes whites, greys, browns and lights blues.

#hws america #hws canada #aph america #aph canada #hetalia #aph #hetalia world series #alfred f jones #i actually wanted to do mexico who is their eldest sister in my headcanon but i ran out of steam #-#.txt #canada.#america.#file: old headcanons

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jtargaryen18 · 1 month ago

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Hounds of Hell MC 4: Ryder ~ Available today!

I’m not the settling type, but she’s in my heart. I’ll protect her from the Mafia or die trying…

Margot -- I've loved Ryder since we were kids, but he's never been the type to stick with anyone for long. Being a deputy sheriff means I see the world differently--by the law. He’s the opposite. The Mafia took my father from me. When they return to threaten everything I care about, including Ryder, I realize the line between right and wrong isn’t so clear. If we’re going to survive this, I’ll need Ryder’s strength. Maybe this time, we’ll face danger together.

Ryder -- Margot’s been right in front of me for years, but I’m the guy who never sticks around. Commitment? Not for me. Now she’s all I see. When the Mafia comes after the Hounds, everything is at stake. Margot’s not just a deputy sheriff -- she’s the woman I’ve always needed. The woman I love. I’ll die before I let anything happen to her.

Buy it @ Changeling Press

You'll also find pre-order links for Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Smashwords & Vivlio where it will be available on 10/31!

Enter my October Giveaway! (If you select 'fanfics' you'll get a newsletter with all my published titles but you'll also get updates on my fanfics and you'll get the chapters before they post here or anywhere else. Also, planning to do some extras like deleted scenes, extra scenes, and more!)

Excerpt

With the efficiency of a SWAT team, she ordered lunch, paid for it, and had them tucked away at a small table in the corner, enjoying burgers and fries.

“What’s that?” Ryder pointed at the tall, covered cup.

“Strawberry shake. They’ve always had the best shakes here. You want one?”

“Nah,” Ryder said. “Just a little concerned, is all. You’re starting with milkshakes. Milkshakes lead to donuts. Next thing you know, you’re going to lose your girlish figure and you’ll be stuck running radar out by the interstate.”

Margot laughed, a high, lovely sound. “Don’t worry about my girlish figure.”

“I like your girlish figure,” Ryder said, grinning.

“Since when?” A little of the humor faded from her expression at that. “I’m probably the only non-relative female you haven’t slept with in a hundred-mile radius.”

“More like a 50-mile radius,” Ryder said.

But he hadn’t been lying when he said he liked her figure. Margot was just about perfect. Nice rack. Great ass. A killer smile made all the more adorable for her dark eyes and the freckles across the bridge of her nose.

Margot had a good head on her shoulders, too. He enjoyed talking to her, their playful banter. He couldn’t imagine a world where he couldn’t have these light-hearted conversations with Mercy’s newest deputy sheriff.

“It doesn’t bother you to be having lunch with a biker?” He couldn’t resist asking.

“It doesn’t bother you that you’re having lunch with a cop?” Margo eyed him. “How did you get to town?”

“Rode my bike,” Ryder said. “Might not have been my best idea. I mean, I was okay getting here. Not sure how getting back is going to go.”

“How long are you going to stay?” Margot’s dark-eyed gaze stayed on him.

Shrugging a shoulder, Ryder finished off a French fry. “I’d like to finish the day out,” he admitted. “But now that I’m sitting here, I’m feeling pretty fucking tired.”

It was the truth and he’d never been good at keeping that from her. His friend’s gaze was knowing.

“Why don’t we take you home after lunch? I’d be glad to drive you back.”

Ryder knew she would. But he would disappoint himself if he left after lunch to go home and climb back into bed in that lonely, quiet house. Shaking his head, he ate another fry, thought it over.

“I’m tired. Just not sure I’m tired enough to go back to the house and hang out by myself.”

More concern bled into her expression. “At least take a nap in the lounge or something. No one’s going to give you shit for it. You almost died.”

He had. Axel and Hero both cut him worried looks the entire time he’d been there, working on that engine. Margot had a point.

“Well, with me getting back on my feet, let me know if you need help with anything at the house.” He meant it. “Clyde was as bad as you about never wanting to bother anyone. If you need help with anything, I’m right here.”

Margot nodded, eating her burger. After a moment, her gaze met his. Her dark eyes were glossy.

“I still can’t believe he’s gone, Ryder,” she said quietly. “No warning. Just gone.”

Reaching across the table, he covered her hand with his. Some emotion flashed in her eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“He loved you more than anything,” he said. “Clyde was so proud of you.”

A tear spilled down her cheek at the words. “I know he was. It’s just… I worked so hard to find a job back over here in Mercy so I could be with him, help him as he got older. And now he’s gone. Shot by some mafia asshole like he was nothing.”

Swiping at her tears with her free hand, Margot tried to regain her composure.

“Clyde didn’t deserve that. And I wish my brother had been able to take that asshole out. Slow. But Sawyer was there and now the bastard’s in jail.”

That stopped her cold. Carefully, she moved her hand out from under his, shaking her head. “Don’t say that. He’ll pay for what he did in the system. Spend a long time in jail. He’ll think about what he did.”

“Will he?” Ryder asked. “He’s part of a criminal organization, Margot. They have a lot of resources. Maybe he’ll go to jail, but he won’t think a second about your father. He won’t be sitting up in some jail cell regretting his crimes either.”

He didn’t like the way her confidence waned, but he had to say it. “He’ll be trying to find a way out of there. And when he does, he’ll be looking for some payback and he’ll have his entire crime family at his back.”

Margot’s spine straightened where she sat, meeting his gaze squarely. “I have faith in the system. That man will pay for what he’s done.”

Ryder wasn’t so sure about that. He didn’t give a shit about the system. “He will pay,” Ryder said, hoping that he’d be the one to mete out that retribution. What he wouldn’t give to have a shot at the sons-of-bitches who killed Clyde Donner and Morgan Davis. Who tried to kill him.

He had faith in Margot. She’d been through the training, worked in the next county over. Margot knew what she was doing. But she was new enough that she still thought the criminal justice system infallible. Had she ever had dealings with big crime families? Did she understand what she was getting into?

Worse, he worried that the loss of her father would cause her to make a decision that would put her in harm’s way.

“Okay,” she said, her dark-eyed gaze on him. “If you won’t let me drive you back home and you insist on trying to stay at the garage, I’ll make you an offer. If you’re too tired to ride back to the country, you can crash at the house. I don’t have a spare key on me. But I have one. I’ll leave it under that old stone squirrel my dad loved.”

Always looking after him. What would he have done all those long weeks after he’d gotten out of the hospital without her? Axel had been the one to help him change his bandages, got him in the shower. Margot took care of most everything else from changing his bedding and keeping up the house, to bringing him groceries and leaving him meals he could warm up and eat. She’d taken care of him, her daily visits something he looked forward to.

What he’d done to deserve her, he didn’t know. Maybe she needed to stay busy to deal with her own loss.

“Sounds good,” Ryder said after a moment. “In case I haven’t told you, thank you. For everything. I’m not sure why you took it upon yourself to take care of my dumb ass but I’m grateful.”

Soft pink darkened her face. “You’re welcome.”

Something occurred to him. “Wait. You’re working the day shift,” he pointed out. “Where are you going to be later that you need to leave me a key?”

“Tonight’s my first class,” Margot reminded him.

“That’s right,” he said. “Your self-defense class.” She’d been so excited about it, telling him about what she had planned over the last few weeks. “I think Sadie signed up for it.”

“She did,” Margot said, smiling. “I think it will be good for her after everything she’d been through. And I was surprised. The day we got you back into the hospital, she came with Axel. We had a minute in the hall, and she was just… apologizing to me for my dad. She was blaming herself because it was her ex that killed him. But it wasn’t her fault.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Ryder said. “I think your class will help her.”

Something about the smile she cut him had his heart skipping a beat. Margot was a pretty woman. He’d always thought so. Unlike most of the girls he went around with, Margot didn’t do a lot to emphasize her natural beauty. Her nails were unpainted and short, and she wore only a hint of makeup most days. Her hair was put up in a precise bun, glossy and neat. Her uniform always pressed.

Yeah, sure. He’d seen Margot many times in her street clothes. She always favored jeans and simple tops. Her hair was usually pulled back into a ponytail and those days she didn’t wear any makeup. Not that she needed it. She was clearly comfortable in her own skin without all the paint and other enhancements women used to boost their femininity.

Her confidence was sexy as hell. Funny, considering Margot didn’t see herself that way. She didn’t realize she had the cutest ass, and her confident stride showed it off. What would Margot look like in a bikini, stretched out on a towel on the beach?

Shaking his head to clear it, he grinned. “Thanks for the offer of a place to stay,” he said. “Might take you up on it.”

Margot smiled. “Please do.”

The flirty little way she said that had him thinking thoughts he had no business thinking about his best friend.

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feroshgirlsims · 2 months ago

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Chapter 4.1 - Dating for Weirdos

ALICE

Alice agreed to meet Vlad at the library because she had a class nearby, and for once in her natural life, she wanted to be on time. Plus, she needed the extra fifteen minutes to give herself a completely normal, very-relaxed pep talk about not farting.

Or saying something nuts.

Or doing anything that would screw up the first date she’s had the courage to make since she broke up with Jeffery.

Fuck, why did her mom have to call and ask a million questions about her flight home for fall break? It's not her fault that she forgot to buy the tickets two weeks ago before the price went up.

…okay, it was kind of her fault, but her mother freaking out because Alice planned to ask her dad for help was not. If there was one thing Cyrus Martin did well, it was to give Alice money.

Ugh, she needed to stop thinking about marriages ending in divorce. She needed to stop thinking about marriage. She needed to stop—

“Alice?”

Shit. She whirls around to find Vlad standing by the bike rack.

“I’m Vladislaus,” he says as if she hadn’t seen his picture and wouldn’t know those cheekbones any-fucking place.

He’s tall and angular, with a deeply off-putting aura that makes her want to curl up beside him. Alice has always been a glutton for punishment, and no amount of lecturing herself to stay away from dangerous things has worked.

“We arranged a date,” he continues, “I’ve spent the past week or so disabusing you of your wretched Tea & Treachery opinions. You think I’m pretentious, and my theories are shit, but you still agreed to meet.”

Holy Mother Watcher. Vlad writes like a Simlish Literature Textbook and talks like one too—crisp and precise, an odd combination of casual and antiquated, catnip for an audio girly like her.

“I promise I’m chill,” Alice blurts out, even though she is not. Chill is like a country in SimNation she’s never been to because she doesn’t have a passport.

“Er…I-I mean, I just knew if I went back to my dorm after class, something catastrophic would happen, and I’d never make it on time.”

Vlad tilts his head, intrigued. “What kind of catastrophe?”

“The worst kind,” she replies with mock seriousness. “Llama attack, building fire, walking past my laptop, and then remembering the video I was watching earlier.”

His gaze shifts to the library's entrance. He looks distracted.

Fuck. That went south.

Suddenly, his attention snaps back, and he grins. “So many potential dangers. It’s a wonder you arrived at all.”

“I’m smart,” she replies, hiding her relief, “Resourceful. Faultless.”

“I see,” he chuckles, “Now, should we mark you safe from this catastrophe on Social Bunny, or do you want to keep your survival a secret?”

His laugh is like a prize Alice wants to win again. If he’s laughing, then he’s happy, and she’s not completely screwing this up. “Let’s keep this between you and me for now. Who knows how many of my enemies have also survived?”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Vlad agrees. “Who’s on your list?” His eyes glitter with something that looks like excitement.

But that doesn’t make sense. It’s a joke. It has to be.

“No one, really,” she lies, ignoring the dark part of her that wants to give him a name, “I was just being silly. Should we head out?”

PREV | NEXT

(Part 1 of 4)

If you prefer the long-form version of this chapter. You can read it here on my WordPress.

#ts4 #simblr #The Save File Chronicles #Season 1 #POV: Alice Martin #sims 4 story #tw past abusive relationship #first date vibes #but like with a magical creature lowkey stalking you

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aprilclementine · 2 years ago

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part 3 of history teacher steve and art teacher eddie

part 1 / part 2

There was already enough to worry about your freshman year of high school. Dustin was just happy he had a good group of friend to be by his side through it all. Plus, his best friend Mike’s sister was going to be their English teacher, Lucas assured Dustin it would be a walk in the park. They were so wrong.

"Mike your sister is seriously scarier than I remember from before she went to college." Dustin huffed, throwing his backpack on the couch in the Wheeler basement.

"Seriously, Mike! It's the first day and we already have homework due by the end of the week!" Lucas exclaimed, rummaging around his bag for the sheet that contained the details to the homework. Max and Jane coming down the stairs not too long after, clearing off the coffee table, to start on their work.

Mike rolled his eyes at their exasperations, looking to Will for some leveling. Will sighed, shrugging. "I got to say I'm with them on this one, I thought she would take it easier on us. I mean she babysat us for the the entirety of elementary school, and like half of middle school."

Mike groaned, and Dustin jumped in. "That's it! That's exactly it! This is payback for all the times we were shitheads!"

"Jesus H. Christ, I have to buy like a lifetime supply of apples to make up for all the shit we did!" Lucas rubbed his hands over his face.

"You dickheads need to stop being so dramatic its literally just a 'What I Did This Summer' essay." Max finally chimed in, Jane nodding along beside her.

"Homework is still homework, Mayfield." Dustin snarked back.

"And, she's the only teacher that gave us homework." Lucas added, matter o' factly. "Not even Will and Janes brother gave us homework!"

"Well, it's probably because he didn't have to deal with us as much." Will supplied, trying to defend the other Wheeler.

"Pota-toe, Po-tato." Dustin huffed, opening his notebook to a blank page to start the essay. "Speaking of teachers, did Argyle let you guys hold his class pet? The bearded dragon, what was it's name Lucas? Wasn't it like a vegetable, or something?"

"It was pineapple!" Lucas supplied, moving to sit next to Max, using his phone to try and take a picture of what she already had written on her paper.

"The art teacher that got up on the desk was actually kind of entertaining." Will added.

"His hair was too long." Mike added, grabbing a Rubik's cube off the counter before he sat down.

"I liked his hair." Will smiled, "I think he's gonna be a good teacher, I'm glad I convinced you guys to join."

"I can grow my hair longer, and better than he can." Mike grumbled from the floor beside Will.

"I liked Mr.H's hair better." Jane added quietly.

"Oooohhh, yeah, I totally agree, Jane!" Max nudged her, as the two whispered something else to each other.

Lucas rolled his eyes, "Alright, his hair was decent, at best."

"Someone's peanut butter and jealous." Dustin mumbled under his breath, narrowly dodging the figurine Lucas chucked at him.

"I have a feeling he'll be giving us a lot of homework too." Mike added.

"Eh, I know he seems the type, but maybe he'll go easier on us, 'cause we're freshmen." Lucas shrugged, Will hummed in agreement.

The group worked diligently until dinner time, parting ways, with a majority of their essays close to being done.

The next week, Dustin waved down Lucas and Max as he locked his bike into the rack, waiting patiently by the front doors.

"Is that a- Weird Al shirt?" Max asked as they approached. Lucas stifled his laugh behind his hand.

"Yes, his biopic is coming out soon! The one starring Daniel Radcliffe! Also, don’t be jealous, because I actually have taste, Mayfield." Dustin huffed, as he turned to walk into the school.

"If that what you'd like to call it, sure." Max grinned, as they followed Dustin to their first period.

"Weird taste, I'd say. Get it, Max? Because, it's Weird A-" Lucas nudged at Max's side.

"Yes, Lucas, very funny." Max snarked, as she set her bag down by her desk.

The party shared first period together, which was English. Then, half of them went to Math with Mr.Byers, and the other half went to Argyle, for science. Then vice versa. They then shared art together, then lunch, after that half of them went to PE, and the other half went to band. For their final class of the day they shared history.

Dustin watched Mike almost doze off in first period, and quickly kicked his seat, so his sister wouldn't give him a weeks worth of detention, in only their second week of school.

The group walked out of first period, grumbling about another assignment, parting ways down the hall. Max, Lucas, and Dustin had Argyle, and Mike, Will and Jane had Mr.Byers.

The groups passed each other in the halls, Lucas quickly repeating to Will what the lesson was about, and Mike doing the same for Dustin.

They regrouped in Mr.Munson’s class for Art. Aprons were placed on each seat, and Mr.Munson was setting out fabric paint, and markers in the middle of each table as everyone walked in. Everyone filed to their seats as soon as the bell rang, Mr.Munson stood before the class, explaining that this period they'd be decorating their aprons for the year. "Put whatever you want, be fun, be creative, but "make it school appropriate"." Mr.Munson rolled his eyes, as he used air quotes, and a mocking tone for the last sentence. He took a deep breath, before bringing his hand up to his mouth, leaning in closer to the class for a stage whisper. "Or, don't, I'll pretend I didn't see it." Mr.Munson clapped to dismiss the class, and then moved behind his desk to work on some sketches.

Dustin walked up to Mr.Munson’s desk about halfway through class. He cleared his throat to get the mans attention. Mr.Munson looked up, eyes scanning over Dustin’s face, then landing on his shirt. "Is that a Weird Al shirt?"

Dustin nodded wordlessly, ready to defend himself.

"That's bold, I respect it." Eddie nodded as he spoke, looking back at Dustin now, who was beaming at the comment. "How can I help ya, kid?"

"I was wondering if you had anymore puffy paint." Dustin asked, handing Mr.Munson the empty bottle. Mr.Munson nodded, as he grabbed his keys, and moved into the storage room. Dustin heard him rummaging around, before he came back out with a new bottle of yellow puffy paint, handing it off to Dustin, sending him back to his desk to work.

Dustin took a step back, watching curiously from the slight opening, as Mr.Munson knocked on the connecting door to Mr.Harrington’s room, before Mr.Harrington appeared. Dustin watched as the two conversed, jumping slightly when he felt someone kick his leg.

"Dude! What are you doing still standing? Will needs the puffy paint." Mike whisper-shouted from his chair.

Dustin grumbled, sparing one last glance at the storage room, just as Mr.Harrington was shutting his side, and Mr.Munson was walking back into the room, bright smile on his face. "I was observing!" Dustin hissed back, sliding the puffy paint across the table to Will.

"What exactly could you be observing?" Lucas asked, reaching for the red fabric marker.

"Mr.Munson was in the storage room-" Dustin started, in a quiet tone, glancing to the desk where Mr.Munson sat.

"Yeah, duh, he doesn't just carry all his extra art supplies in his apron pockets." Max added, taking the red marker from Lucas, before he could cap it.

"If you would let me finish." Dustin groaned, "He went back in there after he got me the puffy paint, and knocked on Mr.Harrington’s door."

"Maybe he needed to borrow something?" Will suggested, with a shrug.

"That's the thing," Dustin looked around the table, holding his friends attention now. "He came out of the storage room, empty-handed!" He whisper-shouted.

"What are you getting at?" Mike questioned.

"Nothing, nothing, I'm just observing." Dustin replied, hands up in mock-innocence.

"Mr.Harrington is probably just still showing him around, he's practically the school's welcoming committee." Max added, handing off the purple puffy paint to Jane.

"Maybe, I say we just stay observant, maybe we can hang around after the bell, stall a little bit, see if Mr.H comes by, for Mr.Munson." Dustin finished, casting one more glance to Mr.Munson.

When the bell rang, the group was slow to clean their area, purposefully mixing up caps, and calling out the other to fix it, slow to wipe down their table, the markers kept somehow rolling off the table, until it was just the six of them, and Mr.Munson in the classroom.

Mr.Munson finally moved towards the table, "Hey guys, lets try and get a move on it, so everyone can get to lunch on time, here I'll help."

The party was quick to try and refuse his help, all six talking at once, spewing out different excuses.

"Alright, alright, I'll just wait by the door." Mr.Munson exclaimed, "But, please try and pick up the pace, I-"

"Munson, I told you to meet me-" Mr.Harrington stopped, looking between them, and Mr.Munson.

"Hang on, Mr.H. I got a couple student still cleaning up." Mr.Munson turned away from them, and made his way to Mr.Harrington. "You can just put the tools on this back counter over here, we'll put them up when the room clears."

Dustin turned to look at his friends, gesturing towards the two teachers. "I told you!" He mouthed.

They finished quickly, and ran out the door, nearly being knocked over by Mr.Harrington who was carrying a 2x4. "Woah, let's try to be careful, and watch where were going. Almost got you guys with this." Mr.Harrington instructed softly.

"What's with the wood?" Lucas asked.

"Mr.Munson asked me to help him put up hooks for your classroom aprons." Mr.Harrington answered with a smile, as Mr.Munson came out to grab the 2x4 from him.

"You guys should get to lunch before all that's left is mystery meat." Mr.Munson butted in, giving the crew a pointed look.

The group nodded, rushing down the halls. "No, I told you!" Max slightly shoved Dustin, as they rounded the corner. "Mr.Harrington is just really, really nice."

"Max does have a point, I overheard Nance telling my mom how much of a help Mr.H was when she was setting up her classroom. He spent the entire afternoon helping her rearrange all the desks until she was satisfied." Mike added, grabbing a lunch tray. "Mom thinks he’s a real dream boat too." Mike added with an eyeroll.

"I think they would be cute together." Jane added, after they got their lunches, and found a table.

"Who?" Will questioned, as he handed off the cherries from his fruit cup to Mike.

"Mr.Munson, and Mr.Harrington." Jane replied matter o' factly.

"Jane, don't be ridi-" Lucas was cut off by a swift kick to his shin, by Max.

"No, I think she has a point. They make for a cute bromance." Max nodded reassuringly to Jane, before taking the pickles from Lucas' sandwich.

The group fell into an easy discussion afterwards about the latest campaign Will was working on.

Eddie was biting his lip raw, watching Steve hold the board in place, drilling it in place, spare screw held between his lips. Eddie tried to imagine what his flexed arms must've looked like under the stupid knit sweaters he wore . Eddie didn't even register Steve calling for him, until he turned to face him, waving a hand in front of his face. Eddie jumped slightly, apologizing.

Steve smiled, holding out his hand to Eddie that held the screws he didn't use. "Could you bring over the hooks now?"

Eddie took the spare screws from Steve's hand, and went back to his desk to grab the hooks they would use. Eddie waited patiently beside Steve, handing him each hook as he needed it.

Once all the hooks were up, Steve started helping Eddie place all the student aprons in their appropriate sections. Steve took a step back, hands on his hips as he admired the work. "We make a good team, Munson."

"I owe you like a weeks worth of lunch, Harrington. I'm useless with power tools." Eddie joked, moving to clean up the saw dust on the ground, Steve following with the dust pan. Eddie really wasn't bad with power tools, growing up and helping his Uncle Wayne with all the repairs the trailer ever needed, but how could he say no, when Steve looked so eager to help. He had ran to their shared supply closet, and pulled out his new drill to show Eddie, the second Eddie mentioned needing to put up racks in his room.

Steve now kneeled down in front of Eddie, holding the dustpan in place as Eddie swept the dust in a neat pile. Steve looked up at Eddie as he continued their conversation. "Does it have to be lunch? I can go for a couple dinners." Steve smiled up at him.

Eddie had to constantly remind himself they were in a school setting, whenever Steve was in compromising positions like this, and saying suggestive things like that to Eddie. Steve was just being a bro, a bro that happened to have the most beautiful hazel eyes Eddie had ever seen, hair that he constantly stopped himself from running his fingers through, and a face that has now made it’s way into Eddie’s sketch book. Eddie was looking too into it, he was sure that was the case. Still, Eddie couldn't stop the blush that crept up his neck. Eddie really needed to keep his cool.

"I don't mind doing dinner, Harrington. We should think about inviting the rest of the teachers in our hall too!" Eddie was quick to add, "Nancy, Johnathan, and Argyle all seem pretty close to us in age. It would be cool if we all went out together, y'know some staff bonding time! You could bring Buckley too!" Eddie finished, as he swept the pile into the dustpan gently.

Eddie tried not to think too much of the way Steve deflated at the suggestion. "Yeah, staff bonding sounds fun." Steve sighed as he stood, walking to drop the pile in the trash. "Any suggestions?" Steve asked, as he stood by Eddies desk.

"My friend Gareth mentioned this bar downtown, we could see if everyone wants to do that?" Eddie answered, moving to place the broom back in the storage room. "I'll ask Johnathan, and Argyle, if you ask Nancy, and Robin."

"Sounds like a deal, let's do it after the first month of school, as like a celebration, maybe we can turn it into a monthly thing." Steve suggested.

"I like that idea, I'll be sure to mention it to the guys when I talk to them." Eddie responded.

"Hey, I don't mean to cut this short, but I have to run and finish up some copies before next period." Steve explained, as he walked towards Eddies closed door. Eddie nodded in acknowledgment, and waved as Steve ran out.

Staff bonding, really, Eddie? Eddie groaned to himself, plopping down on his spinny chair.

***

the kids are introduced now! this part feels a little shorter than the rest, sorry :( i hope you guys are liking this as much as i like writing it, i can’t wait to upload more. thank you again for all the notes :) i am having an awfully hard time coming up with a title hahaha

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