#i think i never saw he posting this much selfies with the same fit in one day
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
bsdtual · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Uenitsu ilysm
23 notes · View notes
heavenlyraindrops · 4 months ago
Text
♱ Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Twenty Six ~FINALE ♱
Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Twenty Six Warnings: profanity How to find the other chapters in my pinned post.
♱Where the purest soul in Heaven falls for the Devil♱
[Chapter Twenty Six]
“[name]! Dad!” Charlie adjusted her bow, as you and Lucifer appeared in the hotel lobby. You cleared your throat, smiling nervously as she approached. 
“Charlie,” Lucifer said smoothly. He looked at you. “This is [name]. You’ve met.”
“Yes.” Charlie looked at you apologetically. “Look, I’m so sorry for what Alastor did. I don’t really know-“ she waved her hands around, “-the basics of the… situation, but I am sorry.”
“Whatever he did isn’t yours to apologize for,” you reassured her, and she smiled weakly. 
“Yes, well…” Lucifer looked around, face expressionless. “Where is he, exactly?”
Charlie laughed nervously. “Dad…”
“I’m just asking.”
“Don’t do anything, please?”
He didn’t say anything.
“Look, Alastor is still useful to the hotel! And… you know how he is.” She looked at you. “I mean, how was he meant to know- I mean, he always does this, right? He likes to stir up drama.”
You frowned. She was making sense.
Alastor didn’t know of anything prior to your fall. He couldn’t have. All he saw was a frazzled girl to take advantage of and pit against his rival. 
“This doesn’t mean you should forgive him,” Charlie said quickly. “It’s just, this hotel is about second chances. Consider this his second chance?”
“Redemption was his second chance,” you said stiffly, crossing your arms. Charlie looked dejected, but Lucifer cut in quickly.
“I won’t try and hurt him, Apple Pie.”
You both exchanged a look. 
You went over to the couch, where Angel Dust was strewn out, his limbs draped over the sides as he scrolled on his phone. He looked up at you. 
“Hey.” He sat up quickly. “[name].”
You gave him a wan smile, sitting down. “It’s been a while, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that long.” He shuffled up the couch, drawing up his legs to make more space. “Sure does feel like a while, though.”
You hummed in agreement. “Say, where’s Alastor?”
Angel sat up straighter. “I betcha he’ll be out in a minute. Still sulking from that ass-kickin’ ya gave him.”
You both fell silent, and your phone pinged. You pulled it out to see Velvette’s number on your screen, a photo attached. You clicked on it. 
A selfie, her lips pushed together in a pout. In the background, Valentino was screaming at a very fed-up looking Vox.
The caption read: he got cancer in his balls. u ok now? xoxo 
A small laugh bubbled last your lips as you typed out your answer:
I’m fine now. Is that even possible with demons?
Her reply came immediately. idk. i dont think it’ll kill him tho :( he’ll prob just live w it forever. glad ur ok babes
“Angel,” you said, straightening up. He looked at you expectantly. “Valentino has testicular cancer.”
His lips stretched into a grin. “Seriously? Like, cancer in his dick?”
You snorted. “Yeah.”
You both burst into a fit of laughter, so much so that you didn’t notice when a static buzzing filled the air. You froze, looking up. 
“Alastor,” Angel said flatly.
Alastor smiled, although it was shaky, upon seeing you. “[name]!” He laughed, taking a sudden step back as you stood up, clenching your fists. Your nails cut into your palms. “What a pleasant surprise. I’m glad you’re alright after that unnecessary scuffle outside.”
“You…” your lip curled. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
You vaguely registered Charlie shouting desperately: “[name], no!” As you lunged towards him, forcing him down, hands closing around his neck. 
-
“You never fixed the window,” you remarked.
Lucifer looked at you, fondness still written all over his features as you picked your way around the empty room, careful not to step on any glass pieces. “It’s just the same,” you murmured. “This room.”
He stepped towards you, slipping his hand around your waist. “It is.”
It had been a week since you’d both left the hotel, no explanation given to any of the residents, instead replaced with an open, rather violent altercation with Alastor in the lobby. Charlie was certain Alastor had made a mistake, in his lust for “entertainment”, and hadn’t known the gravity of the situation. She was certain that he deserved a second chance. 
Despite all this, you’d still given him a beating that would keep him battered for at least a week. And on his toes around you for the rest of his afterlife. 
The light from the city filtered in, glinting off of the jagged remnants of the window pane, and bathed you and Lucifer both in red light. 
He turned to you. “[name].” You looked at him.
He sank down to one knee.
You stumbled back, hands flying to your mouth. “L-luci…”
“[name], me and you… we’ve known each other for so long. There’s been ups and downs- a lot of downs-“
You could feel tears springing to your eyes.
“But in the end, we’re still together.” He took in a deep breath. “Sometimes I was worried that it wasn’t meant to be- we were too far apart, too many bad things were happening to you, just because you were with me, but now…” 
He pulled out a small box.
“I know that’s wrong.”
A small golden ring glinted in the red light.
“[name], will you marry me?”
You stared at him in shock, knees going weak. “Yes. Oh my- yes!” 
He laughed, exhilarated and relieved as he stood up again to sweep you up in an embrace. You buried your face in his shoulder. “I love you,” he murmured against your skin. You pulled away, tears now freely streaking down your face as you looked at him. 
“I love you too,” you replied, and he took your hand, sliding the ring on. It fit perfectly. 
He grasped both your hands in his, looking at you, eyes brimming with adoration. You leaned over, pressing your lips against his. 
He let out a surprised noise, hands snaking around your waist as you cupped his cheek, both your lips moving together. You kissed him until you couldn’t breathe, until you pulled away, panting slightly. 
“I love you,” he repeated, as if saying it once wasn’t enough. You gave him a tearstained smile. 
“I love you too.”
-end-
104 notes · View notes
daegudrama · 1 year ago
Text
Title: The One That Got Away
Pairing: Yeonbin/Soogyu
Summary: In which Yeonjun reminisces about his first love only for him to come work at the same company as him while engaged to another man.
Word Count: 16,010 Words
ao3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Yeonjun
Sometimes I'll go weeks without checking his page, or even thinking about him, but lately that hasn't been the case. He's been creeping into my mind making me relive every beautiful moment we were together.
The tastefully  decorated paper in front of me isn't making things any easier. Maybe I should let myself indulge in the memories of what we once were, if even for just a minute. I pull my phone out and quickly type in my passcode. I log into my old Instagram account from the summer after high school. Back to the time I first met Choi Soobin.
We met when we were the first people to arrive at dance class. I scroll down to that day seeing a mirror selfie with just a little of Soobin in the back. He snuck in while I was taking a photo and I got embarrassed.
"Oh, did I ruin your picture?" Soobin asked covering his face worried that he made a bad first impression.
I wouldn't know he was worried about that until much later. Soobin was immensely anxious about not fitting in with our class. He's never thought he was good enough and it breaks my heart a little more each time I see him doubting himself.
"No, it's okay don't worry about it." I said as I put my phone in my bag and began stretching. 
Soobin joined me on the floor and we introduced ourselves while we warmed up. Talking to him was always easy. He has a way of putting people at ease and a level of understanding that is not common. 
We both come from well off families and wanted to work in the entertainment industry. I wanted to debut in a group and he wanted to be a producer or vocalist. We were young kids that had no idea what we really wanted or what would be best for us. That summer we were chasing a wild dream.
After what I thought was the hardest dance class, but was far from it, I asked Soobin if he wanted to get boba. Neither of us had had time to really talk to anyone else and after awhile we stopped trying to. We made a few acquaintances but, most of them were just interested in dancing not making connections.
"I know this great place near my apartment. It's about three blocks away." Soobin said picking up his bag and wiping a drip of sweat from his neck. 
From the moment I first saw him I thought he was attractive, but I knew the chances of him liking boys were low. I tried to not get my hopes up. Obviously, that didn't work out well but we had some great moments.
We arrived at the boba shop and realized we lived in the same building. Next door neighbors to be specific. Soobin and I talked for hours about how we ended up in this dance program. This is when I first heard about his internship.
Soobin found this dance program through a flier his academic advisor gave him. She thought it would be a great way for him to dip his toe into the industry. A way for him to hone skills. This class is selective and only twenty of the hundreds that apply get accepted. He never thought he would actually pass the audition. 
As we drank our boba I took pictures of my surroundings saving them to my Snapchat memories. These days I'm glad I saved everything. Any time I miss him I can look through my old Instagram or Snapchat and suddenly it's like I'm 18 again. 
I scroll to the next photo and see Soobin's shining smile staring back at me. The dimples in his cheeks and the smooth plains of his face make my heart ache. My hair was blue back then and we look so happy. 
That summer I posted something every day even if it wasn't a good day. Posting a photo of us together after one day of knowing each other seemed weird to everyone else. There was just a connection that no one else could understand. 
Another hard dance practice had Soobin and I going home to shower before meeting up outside our building. We decided to go on a cool down walk to a nearby riverside.
"Yeonjun!" Soobin said when he spotted me. 
His hair was wet clinging to his forehead and even through his fatigue he wouldn't stop smiling. He was wearing a red tank top and black shorts. I don't think I'd remember that if not for the photo.
"Soobin, are you ready?" He swung his water bottle back and forth while nodding his head. 
"You said something about a performing arts school yesterday. How difficult was it to be accepted? I applied there but didn't get accepted after my first audition." Soobin asked moments after we started walking. 
I remember the sad look on his face like it was yesterday. He really wanted to attend the same school as me, but that wasn't his future. Soobin was jealous that I was chosen but I wouldn't find that out until much later. 
"It was really difficult and I had to go through several rounds of auditions just to make the cut. You must've had a bad day. I've seen you dance and you are better than most of the people in my class." 
I didn't know then why I was trying to hype up this beautiful dark haired man. Maybe my subconscious already knew something I didn't. I didn't lie to him about that. Genuinely, to this day, I think he was better than many of my classmates. 
"Honestly, I had the worst day ever when I auditioned. I couldn't find my shoes so I was late and missed my bus. So, I ended up running to the venue and was five minutes late and already sweating. I tripped during a group number because someone else's spacing was off and when I got home my mom called me to say my childhood dog had died. I ate five ice creams to help my sorrow."
Later that summer we would laugh about his failed audition but the wound was still too fresh right then. It didn't help that I was accepted into the school he dreamed of going to.
"If your internship doesn't work out, which I'm sure it will, you can always apply again." 
I wish he would have reapplied, but that wouldn't have been following his dream. For some reason he loved the idea of living in America and trying to make it there. It was always his plan B, but then it became plan A. Of course, that didn't work out for him but he's still happy. 
"I guess so." He said in a defeated tone.
"What's your favorite ice cream?" I asked to deflect the conversation away.
Beside the river we sat a few feet apart still getting used to the feeling of being around each other. I remember feeling as if I could tell him everything even though it'd been such a short time. Later I would realize it's because he's my soulmate. Even now he is my one that got away.
"Do you want to take a picture?" He asked after we'd been sitting there for quite sometime. 
The sun was setting nicely over the river an it was the perfect amount of light for a selfie. I nodded my head feeling the shine in my eyes as I looked at him. He set his phone on a timer on the bench in front of us and huddled close to me. He smiled wide and made a peace sign. I looked at him and felt happy. Before him I never knew another person could make me feel this way. 
"We look cute." I said as we looked at the pictures together.
His hip was touching mine and my chest was filling with butterflies at an alarming rate. I wanted to reach out and touch him but I didn't think it was appropriate. After a moment I slide away giving myself room to breathe. 
"Have you ever taken cute pictures like this with any other boys?" Soobin asked in an almost teasing tone.
"This is a Choi Soobin special." I replied impressed by my own quick wit. 
"Do you have any dating history?" He asked after choosing the perfect photo for instagram.
If I hadn't already told him about my family yesterday that might have taken me off guard. Some part of me wanted to lie to make myself seem cooler and more attractive. My gut told me that was a bad idea. 
"I've dated a few people and by a few I mean two." I said watching the light ripple of the river in front of me instead of looking into his eyes. 
"Were they girls?" He asked catching me completely off guard. 
Of course, I entertained the thought he might like men, but I didn't think we'd talk about it that soon. I debated whether I should come out and knew that any straight person wouldn't have asked such a question. Soobin looks into my eyes and my stomach turns. 
"No." I answered simply outing myself. "What about you?"
He kept his gaze on me and answered confidently. His hands folded in his lap with his ankles neatly crossed. The confidence he held in that moment still surprises me. 
"I've dated one guy last year and a girl during year nine." He paused to look at the river. "I had a fling this spring but I decided I needed to focus on performing. He couldn't understand."
After that conversation we walked home and before the doors closed Soobin followed my Instagram. I leaned against the closed door and slid down with a huge smile on my face. Choi Soobin was quite the man. 
He slid in my DMs later that night and asked if I wanted to walk to class with him in the morning. Of course, I said yes and that was that. For the rest of the summer we walked together to class every day.
At the end of our first week I posted a picture of the moon beside a blurry picture of Soobin smiling. That week was so hard on my body and mind but it was the first time in so long that I was genuinely happy.
Soobin knocked on my door around 10 PM on the first Friday of that summer. He knew I was awake because he could hear my music playing. Seeing as I hadn't really talked to anyone else I knew it was him. What I didn't expect is why he was there. 
"Good evening, Yeonjun. Would you care to join me on the roof for a drink?" He asked when I open the door. 
He was wearing an oversized hoodie and shorts. The blue fabric contrasted against his skin nicely. There was no way I could say no to this angel face. 
"Give me one minute." 
I ducked behind the door and ran to my bathroom to quickly sort out my hair. I changed into a more comfortable hoodie and laced my shoes before stepping outside.
"Let's go." I said enthusiastically excited to see the view from the roof. 
Soobin had lived there longer and knew the best spot for a late night drink. He had set up two chairs and someone had left a beanbag up here. Behind a concrete block he found a small table where we set our soju down. 
"To a summer of success." I said after he'd poured me my first shot. 
He mimicked me turning away slightly as he drank before settling back. Soobin brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes and began rambling about a kid in our class. 
As I listened to him speak I looked out onto the skyline appreciating the true beauty it holds. The later it got the deeper our conversation drifted. By three we knew each other's coming out stories and pieces of childhood trauma. Somewhere around one we had a photo shoot which is where the photos for that days post came from.
"And sometimes I wonder if I'm good enough to even be here." Soobin said when we were throughly drunk and out of alcohol.
I remember the heartbreaking look in his eyes as he gazed over the skyline. My mind raced to find the right thing to say to him in that moment. The intoxicated blood running through my veins wasn't helping.
"You wouldn't be here if you weren't good." I said tapping his shoulder lightly so he'd look at me. "I know talent and you have it. If your vocals are half as good as your dancing then you will be a star for sure."
"Jjuni, would you like to hear a song?" He asked suddenly smiling with a devious look in eyes. 
That was the first time he called me Jjuni but it was far from the last time. The look in his eyes made me think he knew he was about to make me fall in love with him. 
He sung a slow ballad as he stared off into the night sky. Soobin has golden vocal chords and a passion that can be seen from miles away. From the first note I knew I was a goner. I knew from that moment that falling for him was inevitable.
"Did you write that? I haven't heard it before." I said and he looked down shyly like he hadn't just poured his heart out.
"It's about Beomgyu." He whispered like he didn't want to admit he wrote a song about his spring fling. 
Soobin loved deeply and even though he was only with Beomgyu for a short amount of time it affected him. He wants everyone to feel joy and love life as much as he does. The song was bittersweet remembering sweet words mixed with the awkward ending.
"Hey, if it's meant to be you'll find your way back." I said when I saw the sad look in his eyes. 
Every cell in my body is screaming now knowing how that turned out.
"I guess you're right." He said and leaned his head against my shoulder, after pulling our chairs together.
I wrapped my arm around him nearly breathless from the close contact. After a few more minutes I decided it was probably time for bed. 
"Binnie, lets go to bed." I said sleepily pulling him off the chair.
"Together?" He muttered and I wondered if he was drunker than I was. 
As much as I would have loved to do that, I knew that wasn't responsible. I didn't want to completely shut out the thought so I deflected. 
"Maybe tomorrow." I replied as I successfully pulled him up and gathered our trash. 
"Okay." Soobin said and I led him back to his door where he got inside safely.
The next day he texted me telling what a good time it was. I can still remember how that text made my heart sing. Young love is so pure and reckless. 
Each post captures another day from the best summer of my life. The first month is filled with soft orange and yellow tones. I shot them like I already knew the nostalgia they would one day bring me. Soobin's smile is the main focus and it's bittersweet.
Everyone in our class, including the instructors, thought Soobin and I were dating by the end of the first month. The truth was we hadn't done anything more than cuddle a few times, at that point. We spent so much time together that everyone made assumptions.
June 30th was the day Soobin received his acceptance email for the internship in America. That day I posted a photo of him with mountains of food in front of him. 
Soobin barged in my apartment that day with the happiest look I've ever seen on his face. He rushed towards me shoving his phone in my face.
"I got accepted! I have an internship in America!!" He let me read the email as he spoke and I jumped up. 
"Binnie, I'm so proud of you!" I said as I wrapped my arms around him holding him close.
At that moment a small part of my mind wondered where that would leave us at the end of the summer. We hadn't confessed yet but I was trying to plan it perfectly. In the short time we'd know each other we'd become inseparable. Soobin became my best friend so quickly the idea of being apart come August was devastating. 
"Let's go get dinner! My treat." I said after he pulled away smiling down at his phone.
He picked a traditional restaurant and I didn't care how much it cost. I was so proud of him for achieving his dream. He taught me a lot about chasing dreams that summer. Sometimes I wish I'd followed my original plan. 
When all the food had arrived I asked him to smile for my daily post. Throughout dinner I was planning the sappy caption that is burning my eyes right now. We laughed and talked about what he was most excited for. 
"I've been meaning to say this for awhile now..." Soobin trailed off as we walked alongside the dark river only illuminated by the dim street lamps.
"What is it?" I asked taking his hand in mine. 
Holding hands had become a regular thing for us at that point. It's no wonder everyone thought we were already dating. At some point all the boundaries dissipated. We were so comfortable with each other it was like we've known each other for years not one month.
"I like you. As more than a friend and I feel like I'd regret it if I never said anything. I don't want to go to America with any regrets."
I still remember the anxious look on his face as he waited for me to reply. There was so much vulnerability in the moment and I'm so glad that I could relieve the tension.
Of course, I thought there was more between us then just friends but I didn't want to assume. Part of me thought someone like him could never like me. My eyes widened when he said those words and my heart started beating a million miles a minute. Every second was precious and every moment I knew Soobin was growing more anxious. So without thought I blurted out what my heart was feeling.
"I've been trying to find the right time to tell you for the last two weeks. I wanted to find a perfect moment and make it memorable and remarkable. Everything with you is so beautiful and interesting. Of course, I like you too a lot. Probably more than I should."
He wrapped his arms around me tightly and his smile could have lit up an entire city. After he pulled away he asked the question I didn't think I'd hear that summer.
"Yeonjun, will you be my boyfriend?"
"Of course." I replied as I pulled him back into my arms.
The next morning he brought me a muffin and a coffee. He said it's what a good boyfriend does and I can still remember the happiness I felt. Soobin brought me the feeling of lying out on the river bed after a particularly long and cold winter. The warmth that I'm doubtful I'll ever feel again. We were so young and carefree.
I skip a few photos until a picture of us in front of the dance studio catches my eye. It was about a week after he asked me to be his boyfriend. We were wearing matching tank tops that the dance company provided and joggers. I'm kissing his cheek while he tried to hide his face.
Before class we asked a classmate to take a photo of us. Surprisingly, no one in the company seemed to care that we are gay. I wrapped my arm around his waist and stretched up to kiss his cheek. I think he was taken aback because we didn't have our first kiss until later that day.
To this day I'm not sure why we took so long. Maybe we didn't want to rush anything and risk ruining the greatness we had. Then again everything after the first kiss was like riding down a steep hill. It was fun, exhilarating even, until we realized there was no safe stopping point.
Dance practice was easier than usual that day and we decided to get boba afterwards. The cashier had started recognizing us because we came so often. She knew our drinks by heart and quickly had them ready.
We sat by the window and discussed what we wanted to do with the rest of the day. Soobin's dimples showed as he smiled looking out the window. After a moment he took a big sip of his drink.
"I didn't sleep well last night." He said after he swallowed and I rubbed his shoulder concerned. "Let me nap for an hour then we can go to the carnival one of the boys were talking about."
"Okay that sounds like a good idea." I replied wanting him to feel his best.
In the moment I wanted to ask why he didn't sleep well but something told me he wouldn't have given me a proper response. We had so much going on it would've been hard to pinpoint it.
While we drank our boba he gushed about how well another classmate was doing. I remember how jealous I was at the time but that's stupid kid stuff now. I had no reason to be jealous of him, but I was young and insecure. 
We walked home together and went our separate ways for an hour. I spent my time watching a drama because everything else was too loud. I didn't want to disturb Soobin. He deserved to rest.
He knocked on my door when he was ready to go. His haired was styled and he was wearing a cute outfit. Nothing over the top, but different from the comfy clothes he usually wore. I had decided to step my style up too. This felt like a first date even though we hadn't said that.
There is a photo of us at the carnival somewhere on the internet but right I'll focus on Instagram. 
"Kai said there are lots of games and rides!" Soobin said enthusiastically taking my hand. "He and Taehyun are already there."
I squeezed his hand and felt my stomach flutter at the sight of his pure happiness. Soobin has always been shy but for some reason he's so good at making people like him. It's gotten him far in life so far.
"I'll win you a win plushie." I promised as we sped towards the carnival.
He rolled his eyes but was over the moon when I finally managed to win him a bunny. We played games and rode rides for hours. Somewhere along that time we met up with Huening Kai and Kang Taehyun. Eventually Soobin wanted to slip away from them.
"There's something I've wanted to for awhile now." Soobin said as he wrapped his arms around my neck. I could feel the plushie he was holding against my back.
"What's that?" I swallowed my nervous anticipation trying to make myself seem like the calm, cool and collected person he knew me as. 
He didn't reply, instead leaning forward to press his lips against mine. I know it sounds stupid, but I really felt the warm fuzzy firework feeling they talk about in movies. I laid my hands on his tiny waist and pulled him closer. I didn't want the kiss to end. I'd never had one quite so breathtaking. Nothing has lived up to what Soobin could do for me.
We stood in the middle of the carnival and kissed like no one could see us. Maybe we came to improve our dancing that summer, but by the end it wasn't about just that. I often wonder how different my life might be if I'd never had a taste of his love.
Later we ended up squished into my twin bed desperately trying to exhaust our overwhelming hormones. Somehow, we thought making out with nothing but the flimsy fabric of our clothes separating our bodies would help. 
I stopped us for from going any further that night. It wasn't that I didn't want to; I just didn't think it was a good idea. Soobin didn't object because he's a good a human. Instead he cuddled into my side and asked if I wanted to watch cat videos.
Each day we spent together brought us closer. It got to the point where we were sleeping at each other's apartments daily. I learned his little habits but over the years I've forgotten most of them. It's funny how time erases our memories without us ever realizing. The memories I hold tightly too are the ones I surely won't forget, but they aren't always the most important.
"Yeonjun?" He asked one midsummer night after we had finished our takeout.
"Yes?" I responded from the kitchen where I was cleaning up the containers and sorting the trash.
"Why do you like me?"
I remember stopping dead in my tracks and rushing to his side. He didn't say things like that often so it worried me. For a few days I had been waiting for the moment to tell him how my feelings had changed. I knew if I didn't say anything I would regret it. We only had so much time together before we'd be across the world from each other. Before he'd leave me.
"Soobin, I like everything about you from the way you always ask for five more minutes of sleep to the way you never back down from difficult situations. You are a beacon of light in my life." I paused taking his hand in mine. "I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. I know that's crazy to say because we've know each other such a short time but it's true."
"I love you too." He replied with a soft smile that reached his eyes. 
That night we started the dangerous downhill journey. Recklessly in love and we didn't care who knew about it. We did everything we ever wanted in the moment. I'm not sure either of us thought there was an end in sight.
When I wasn't practicing choreography or writing songs I was by Soobin's side. Sometimes we practiced together or just watched movies. Cuddled, kissed and everything in between while I tried to brush away the thought that soon he'd be in America.
The next photo that catches my eye is our complementary tattoos. I lift the sleeve of my shirt to look at the line art bunny that is a permanent reminder of that summer.  
It was after a particularly hard double rehearsal and we felt like doing something fun. Soobin had gotten yelled at for accepting the internship and for not being good enough for it. Obviously, I didn't agree with that and I told Soobin that as soon as we left class. 
"Love, he's just jealous he's stuck here teaching a bunch of teenagers while you are going to be living the dream." I said wrapping my arm around his waist and trying to pull him closer.
"He's right. I'm don't deserve it. I need to prove myself. I'm not good enough." 
It took me an hour to convince him he had nothing to prove. He was best in the class after me and I wouldn't lie to him. Somewhere in that hour we showered and he was plotting to get tattoos.
"Yeonjun, let's get tattoos." he said abruptly while lying on my chest. "I want something that reminds me of you every time I look at it."
I was a lot bolder then and there didn't seem to be any consequences. I thought this man would love me for the rest of our lives. How naive was I? 
"What are you thinking?" I asked already knowing he was going to say a fox. 
For some reason I'm referred to as a fox and he a bunny. I'm not sure why we started that or where it came from really. But now it's permanently on our bodies. 
He hasn't tried to get it covered from what I know and that makes me wonder what he said when Beomgyu asked. I find some satisfaction in the fact he is reminded of me every time he sees his tattoo. 
"I'll get a fox for you and you get a bunny for me."
I kissed him and told him how much I loved him. I agreed to get a bunny on my bicep and we called a taxi to the nearest tattoo shop open. We didn't care how much it cost or how long we had to wait. We just wanted this reminder on our arms. The artist drew exactly what we wanted. Simple line art drawings that haunt me.
Everything was good after that until it wasn't. The closer we got to the end of the summer the more we started arguing. We didn't know what to do because we'd been living in fantasy land for the last three months.
"So that's it?" I remember yelling on the rooftop with five days until he left for America. "You don't want to continue our relationship?"
"Yeonjun, stop twisting my words! That's not what I said." He stood in front of me with sad eyes. "I said we really need to think about what is best. We are going to be busy."
"I love you, Soobin." I said tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. 
"I love you too." He said taking my face in his hands. "I'm going to be sixteen hours behind. You are going to be busy training and going to school. I'm going to be working constantly and I don't know if there is enough time for us right now."
It has been years but I can remember the pain of my heart shattering. Every word he said made me want to hold him tighter so he couldn't get away. I rested my head against his shoulder. There was no use fighting with him. He was going to get his way even if he just stopped answering me all together. 
"So you want us to focus on ourselves?" I asked still clinging to him.
"Not forever just for a little while."
The photo I posted that day was of a chocolate bunny I smashed with a hammer. It was a healthy way to relieve the anger I was feeling. I was more upset than angry to be honest. I just wanted to spend my time with the person who understood me best and cared for me more than anyone ever had. 
It's funny he said just for a little while, because we never got back together. I haven't talked to him in person since he left to go to America. We've been at a few of the same events but I never tell him because I still can't handle myself. It has become amicable. He wishes me a happy birthday every year and we comment on each others posts sometimes. I support the company he works for and we've even called a few times. I never say what I really want too, but that's okay I've accepted it's better for me to keep my mouth shut. 
It's hard to do that when his wedding invitation to his 'spring fling' is sitting in front of me. Why on earth did he think it was a good idea to send an invitation to his ex? Does Beomgyu not care? Have I become so insignificant that he doesn't even remember? I wouldn't call us friends because it's still too awkward for that. He says he wants his friend back but we were only just friends for a month. If I was getting married I wouldn't send him one.
I was Soobin's first for a lot of things but apparently I can't hold to Choi Beomgyu. I've seen photos of them together and my heart still twinges with jealousy after all these years. They look so happy that I can't reveal how I feel no matter how much I want too.
That makes me think of a letter I wrote last year that I never sent. I wrote it right after I learned about their engagement and spent the next three days wondering why god hates me.
I walk over to the closet not knowing why I want to bring myself more pain. From under a box of college memorabilia I pull the letter I wrote. I carefully unfold it and read.
To my Binnie,
I don't know why I'm writing this because it's unlikely I'll ever send it. Writing it down is sort of therapeutic for me, I guess. I wrote a  few songs but it feels wrong to release them without your permission. So here I am.
Today is five years since we met and my heart has yet to forgot the sweet melody of your voice or the hypnotic swing of your hips. Occasionally, I indulge and look at the memories I can't bring myself to erase. I think I'd lose a piece of my soul if I misplaced those.
The summer I spent with you is still one, if not the, best of my life. There was such pure euphoria in spending moments drunk on the roof or cuddling in your bed when we should have been rehearsing. When I look at our photos and videos I feel that happiness again but it's masked with sadness. 
Most weeks I can go without overthinking every detail of our last month. Other times it's all I think about and I can't help but agonize over it. I can't help but wonder what we could be if we were still together. To this day, I still think you are my perfect match. There was an undeniable click from the moment we met. Being with you felt like breathing fresh air for the first time in months. I curse the universe everyday for letting me meet you at the wrong time. Maybe things would be different if we'd met now. 
I miss what we had more than anything. The late night talks and the early breakfasts before dance rehearsal. The security and friendship you gave me made me feel whole again.
I know it's too late now. I've looked at your Instagram, you've moved on and seem to be thriving. You're getting married? I want to call but I don't think it's fair anymore. I don't want to intrude where I'm not wanted. 
I almost text you sometimes when I see something that reminds me of you then I remember we aren't friends anymore, at least not good friends. My heart still plays tricks on me thinking you might be the one making my phone ring. It's never you though. You aren't coming back.
I might've hugged you a little tighter and kissed you a little longer if I'd know that was the last time I'd see you. I sobbed in the car outside the airport when I dropped you off. Letting you go chase your dream was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I'm not sure how I was strong enough to let the best thing in my life fly away. In another life I would've made you stay and we would've kept all our promises. 
Soobin, I still love you more than anything in this world. I would give up my whole career for another shot to be with you. Nothing can compare to the way you make me feel. When you left I became an empty shell of a person. Only recently have I gotten my shit together and only because I know you would want me to be happy. 
I love you. I love you. I love you.
I don't think that will ever change no matter how many years pass or how many men I meet. It's always been you and it will always be you. It sounds so cliche but you are truly the one that got away. A piece of my heart is still with you and probably always will be. Take care of it please. 
If you ever want to come back home you know where I hide the key.
Love always, 
Your Jjuni
My words feel stupid. Even if I'd sent this nothing would have happened. At most he would have sent another long paragraph about how he's sorry he broke my heart. Beomgyu is his true love and it would be selfish for me to interfere. I won't go to their wedding unless he personally messages me. I know he won't.
I should stop dwelling on the past and get some rest. Tomorrow I'm meeting a new talent my company wants to work with. I put the letter away and get ready for bed hoping sunrise will bring a better day. 
Once I get to the office I ask one of the interns where the new talent is waiting and she tells me he's in the artist lounge. I've never met this person because I've been away or busy doing other things while he was here. The other producers and managers seem to love him. I introduce myself as I enter the room.
"Hello I'm the lead choreographer and producer–"
"Choi Yeonjun." Says a voice I could pick out of a hundred people with my eyes closed. 
"Why are you here?" I snap and he looks taken aback by my rudeness. 
Maybe I shouldn't be so harsh. It's not his fault I can't get over him. Keeping myself at a distance is easier than letting him worm his way back into my heart. The last thing I need is a glimmer of hope. He's getting married soon.
"Because this is one of the best companies in the country and I miss my friend." 
He's leaning back into the couch with a comfortable look on his face. He already seems at home. His stupid eyes shine just as bright as the last time I saw him and somehow he's even more handsome in person. 
"We were hardly friends. How many times do I have to say that?"
He looks hurt at the words I'm saying. I know we were actually really good friends but acknowledging that makes it seem like I could do that again. I don't think my emotions could take being around the man who broke my heart into a million pieces and has taken half of them around the world with him. 
"Did your invitation find you well?"
Why would he say that? Why have they paired me with him? I know there is no way I can get out of this. I need to act professional and not feed in to anything he says.
"We have work to do. Follow me to the rehearsal space. Don't talk about personal matters. We are in a professional environment."
I turn on my heels and walk out of the artist lounge. I briefly look over my shoulder to make sure he's following. He looks upset. Obviously, he'd imagined a more heartwarming reunion. 
Soobin manages to keep it professional until the end of the day when he runs into me outside the building. I think about going back inside but I know that's a cop out. 
"Yeonjun, I thought we were past this." He says following me as I start walking away. "I'm doing what I always planned."
I don't want to do this. I don't want to have this conversation again. I want to live in my bubble where I don't have to see him every day. I don't want to think about him.
"It was supposed to be me." I let the words slip and immediately regret it when I see the solemn look on his face.
I don't want him to feel what I feel. I want Soobin to be happy and have everything he wants. It's just hard when at one time I thought he'd be doing it with me. We'd talked of things far in the future and he just let them go without seeming to be hurt.
"Jjuni, it's been six years...we've talked about this." He steps in front of me. "We were kids it was foolish to think I'd come home and everything would be the same."
"Don't call me that. Every time you talk about this it's like it doesn't mean anything to you. To you I was just some summer fling but to me you're the one that got away." I say refusing to meet his eyes.
Soobin's jaw drops like he wasn't expecting me say something like that. I've refrained from saying something like this for years purely out of respect for Beomgyu. With Soobin here standing in front of me I can't possibly hide my feelings anymore.
"Of course it meant something to me." Soobin says tapping where my tattoo is hidden by my sleeve. I don't shrug him off like I should. I can't find it in myself too. I look into his eyes. "You'll always be my first love." 
"You can't say that and expect me to be able to work with you every day!" I say looking behind his head in frustration. "You could've chosen any company..."
"I'm sorry...not every company has Choi Yeonjun. I want the best shot at debuting again and I want the best teacher."
Two years ago he debuted, after three years of training, with a group under a different company. They were decently successful as rookies, even winning a few awards, until rumors involving his members started circulating. The rumors were proven true. They were forced to disband and Soobin left the company.
"It's going to be years before they let you debut unless you join a group. Especially if you want to be out. They've let me be out publicly because I mostly stay behind the scenes but they typically aren't so kind to lead talent."
"I'm willing to deal with that. I really want to be your friend. I know this is hard and I'll go as slow as you need me too." Soobin puts a hand on the side of my face then quickly lets go. "I've changed a lot it's almost like meeting a new person."
"You still like late night ice cream and back rubs after a hard day. You're still empathic almost to a fault and you will do anything to make people happy. You're still shy and need to be reassured often. You still go live for your fans to avoid dance practice and hate extra exercise." I sigh looking at his expensive shoes. "Maybe a lot has changed but you're still the boy I fell in love with all those years ago."
I tap his bicep where I know his tattoo is hiding. He looks like he might wail in pain, but looks into my eyes instead. His eyes are watering and my chest aches. 
"I'll  see you tomorrow." He says and walks away from me without a true destination mind.
At home I pull out my college memories box again. A loose bottle cap from a Soju bottle catches my eye. It was a keep sake from the first time we drank together. But it isn't what I'm looking for. 
It takes a moment to find the flash drive buried under countless notes and items from the last few years. This flash drive has seven songs about Soobin that I haven't released because it didn't feel right. Part of me wonders if it would be strange to give it to him now.
I shove the flash drive and the letter I wrote last year into my work bag. My heart tells me it's a good idea but my brain knows I'll likely never give them to Soobin.
After a quick shower I eat some instant ramen while watching videos of Soobin's rehearsal. Today was an assessment for me to see where he's at. 
The higher ups trust my opinion and want my recommendation of where to place him. I will have to speak to him about his willingness to be in a group. We've been trying to form a new one. 
He's improved tremendously since we danced together, but today he was having a hard time. I'm sure it has to do with the way I treated him. Being cold and professional is the last thing I wanted to do. But it was what needed to happen.
Tomorrow Soobin will be thrown in with our other trainees. He's at least four years older than most of them. Soobin is youthful and friendly even when he's shy. I'm sure he'll fit in well even with the age difference. 
I find it hard to sleep with so many thoughts and possibilities assaulting my mind. I truly with my entire heart want the best for Soobin. I hate how the world treats us. He can't even legally get married here. I can't legally get married. If he wants a successful career he might have to hide a part of himself. 
My dream of debuting in a group fell off when Soobin left. I decided to focus on producing and choreography. A big part of that was not wanting to hide a part of myself. 
I've seen a few people over the years but nothing sticks. Management figured it out and made it clear it didn't matter to them. However, their more popular artists aren't allowed to discuss dating or many related topics. I understand in theory why they do that, but it doesn't excuse it. 
Coffee is my saving grace in the morning. I'm almost late after oversleeping and I wish I could just start over. I wish I could shut my mind off for two minutes.
An intern greets me in the hallway and my greeting sounds a lot angry then I intended. I'll be sure to apologize later. Maybe I'll bring her a snack. 
The trainees are waiting for me in the dance studio according to my co-worker. I walk into the studio looking at the familiar faces. Most of these trainees have been here for more than a year already. 
"Choi Soobin." I say loud enough to be heard across the room. I motion for him to join me. "Everyone else stretch out."
Soobin follows me to a practice room close by and sits on the sofa when I tell him too. After sitting in a desk chair across from him I analyze his expression. 
He looks worried and I guess I would be too, after being singled out. Soobin doesn't know I'm here to have a discussion about what he wants to do. I'm looking out for him. He's already trained and knows what will work for him. 
"Take a deep breath. You aren't in trouble." I see his shoulders release tension. "You've been through a lot in the last two years."
He takes in a sharp breath and his eyes fly up to study my face. I'm trying my best to keep my face neutral but my acting classes are failing me right now. 
"I'd rather not talk about that." Soobin says meekly.
"I didn't think you would, but I need to know how you feel about being placed. We have been trying to form a group for almost a year. If you are willing to be in another group you could debut much faster, but there will probably be sacrifices."
"Sacrifices..." He mutters squeezing his hands together. Surely a new nervous habit. "Do you think I can debut without having to hide myself?"
"Maybe if you use ambiguous language but even then you won't be able to show him off or talk about him romantically." I say truthfully.
There is a slight chance our company would let him be his true self with no boundaries. If they can see how absolutely talented and show stopping he is. I'd only our company could see him through my eyes. They'd give him whatever he wants. But I'm not in charge of publicity or contracts. They'll take my word with a grain of salt.
"Beomgyu understands the sacrifices we will have to make for me to be an idol. He's a trainee at another company, but a small one that is much more open minded."
I feel like someone's rolled a pizza cutter over my heart when Beomgyu's name leaves Soobin's lips. My mouth falls into a frown. 
"I don't decide these things but I thought it might be easier to talk to me first." I say gently. "The right group is what I think would be best for you. None of this is going to be easy."
"I know, but I want it." He sighs rubbing his face. "It is kind of strange talking to you about this. I never imagined I'd actually end up here."
Has he been thinking about this for a long time? I wonder how long he's been planning on auditioning here.
"I'm breaking normal protocol doing by doing this. We should get back to rehearsal." 
He says thank you before following me back to the dance studio. Soobin joins the other trainees and my phone buzzes. I see a text from a co-worker asking me to come to the recording studio. I let my co-choreography know what I'm doing and  leave the room. 
I notice Soobin's name on a locker near the dance studio. I try his mothers birthday (knowing that's what he used to use as a passcode) and it unlocks. Is it bad my first thought was to break in? For a moment I debate whether I should leave my note and songs. 
A part of me thinks I'll regret it if I don't let him hear everything I have to say. I want everything I've felt I've ether last six years to be known. Friends isn't an option until he knows the hell I've gone through missing him. 
I put the flash drive inside the envelope with the note and leave it on top of his shoes. Quickly I close his locker and lock it like I was never here. I likely won't have to see him for the rest of the day. 
Thankfully, I'm so immersed in new music for the next eight hours I hardly have time to think about what I've done. Until I have to go back to the dance studio. Should I check to see if he's taken it? No, focus on what you need to do. 
One of our solo artists is needed to record a promo. I spot Soobin in a practice room messing around with another trainee. I tell the solo artist where to go and that I'll be up there soon. 
I knock on the door of the practice room and the boys freeze. I open the door and Soobin's face turns white. He must have read the letter...my heart rate increases drastically. I feel like I might start sweating. My face must be bright red. 
"If you are going to mess around and not practice just go home. This isn't a playground." I manage to say before speed walking away.
"Is he alright?" I hear the other kid say to Soobin as I walk away. 
No. I'm not okay. The love of my life just read my embarrassing letter and will surely listen to my pathetic songs soon. Why did I do this? It's not like he's going to leave Beomgyu. I've seen pictures he looks like a doll and I'm sure he's just as nice. I'm so dumb.
I manage to make it home without running into Soobin again. Anxiety has begun holding every single muscle in my body hostage. Every other thought is wondering if he's listened to the songs and what he thought. They are labeled with the date. None of them are from the last four years so hopefully that makes it a little less creepy. 
While I was watching footage of the trainees my co-worked sent me my phone starts ringing. It's Soobin. I panic not picking up until the forth ring trying to think of what he's going to say.
"Can we meet up?" Soobin asks without saying hello first.
I think for a few moments before I respond. That's not what I expected. I weigh my options. We need closure. Well more like I need final closure and this will likely give me that. I agree to meet him in a bar near the trainee's dorm. This place is chill and secluded. People still recognize Soobin often. He hasn't been active publicly for awhile but not everyone has forgotten.
It's nearly midnight when I arrive at the bar. I walk inside and scan the crowded room looking for his sweet face. I find him hunched over his phone with one headphone in at a booth. He's found a corner away from everyone. 
Almost silently I sit down my anxiety at an all time high. He takes the headphone out of his ear and looks up at me. Soobin's eyes are red and puffy as if he'd been crying recently. My heart sinks and all I want is to comfort him. 
"I ordered you a beer you used to drink." He says and is cut off by the waitress appearing with two bottles of beer. 
We thank her and I take a sip not knowing what to say right now. He called me here he should be the one to talk. 
"I'm so sorry for the pain I've caused you." He says after a moment. "The songs are beautiful and heartbreaking. Our summer..." 
He trails off like he doesn't know what to say about 'Our Summer.' One of the many songs I've written about him. There are more than the seven but those are the only finished ones.
"I almost sold that song to Kang Taehyun. You remember him? It didn't feel right without asking and I wasn't going to do that. Especially since you moved on remarkably fast."
"I've told you it just happened. I know it wasn't good timing." He's speaking softly almost like he doesn't want to be heard. "Taehyun would have sounded good singing that, but nothing compared to you." 
WHAT IS HE DOING? Why can he still effect me like this? I wish I could switch off all my emotions and say everything I want. The songs have said basically everything though I suppose. 
I take a long drink from my beer wanting him to keep speaking. I still don't know what I should say. Why did I come?
"Yeonjun, this is a lot to take in. Honestly, reading and listening to what you wrote is confusing me."
"Confusing you?"
My heart bursts with hope but my brain quickly shuts it down. He's about to get married to his dream man. Why would he even entertain the thought of leaving him?
"You're bringing up feeling for you that I never completely dealt with." Soobin says and I want to scream. "I've spent the last two hours crying, listening to your songs and reading your letter over and over. I tried calling Beomgyu to distract me but he's still at his company."
"I'm sorry I made you cry." I say briefly touching his arm across the table before realizing I shouldn't.
He catches my hand and I can see tears welling up. I stroke the back of his hand. I don't know how much more of this my heart can take. I feel like I've been transported back six years. Like it's the end of summer and we are grabbing one last drink before we have to go our separate ways.
"I'm wondering why you didn't fight harder." He flips his hand so he can hold mine and squeeze it. I hope he doesn't mind the thin layer of sweat. "The songs made it so clear you wanted to."
"I have more songs that aren't finished that would probably explain it better. You went back to your spring fling and stopped contacting me." I pull my hand away from him. It's too comfortable and making me feel better. He shouldn't have that power. "I thought it was what you really wanted. Then it got serious between you two and it definitely wasn't right for me to intervene."
"At the time I started seeing Beomgyu again losing you was still my biggest regret. The first year and a half was rough because I didn't realize why I wanted him so bad. At first it wasn't about Beomgyu it was just that he was there." He buries his head in his hands and sighs. "I accepted you weren't going to come after awhile and became actually happy with him."
I pound my beer before saying my next words. 
"So, what you're saying is things might be different if I'd just called a few more times?" I can feel my nose starting to burn as I hold in tears. 
"I don't know what would have happened but—"
He is cut off by the sound of his phone buzzing on the table. Soobin's eyes meet mine as we see the name 'Beomie 💛' lighting up his screen. I nod for him to take it crossing my arms across my chest. He puts in his headphones and answers the call.
"Hi, love." He says and I want to gag. "I'm actually talking with one of the producers right now. I'll be back at my dorm soon."
I laugh at his half lie. He is talking to a producer but one who is also his ex-boyfriend. Soobin listens for a moment humming occasionally to show he's listening. 
"Okay sleep well." A brief pause. "Me too."
"Why'd you lie to him?" I ask as soon as he's removed his headphones. He won't look me in the eye like he might be ashamed. 
"Are you not a producer?" His smart ass remark makes me want to kiss his stupid lips. 
"What did you tell him about..." I trail off reaching over the table to touch his bicep. He flinches away and I withdraw my hand. 
"He knows we have complementary tattoos. He doesn't like it at all." Soobin sighs reaching for my hand like I might relieve the stress he's feeling. I'm too weak to push him away. "He's asked me to get it covered but later he realized that was a really dramatic reaction."
"He sounds...lovely." I can't mask the sarcasm heavy in my tone.
"I promise he's a good person. I wouldn't be marrying him if he wasn't. In the early days things were different because I was confused."
He lets go of my hand and his cheeks are red. I want to touch them so bad. Just a little caress...my heart is pounding just thinking about it. Even if I just poked his dimple maybe I'd find some relief.
The waitress brings us another round and she looks like she wants to say something but she doesn't walking away. I take a drink of my beer then speak. 
"Why did you lie to him?" I press not letting go of it. 
Why would he need to lie if Beomgyu is such a nice guy? Why would Soobin come to my company when his fiancé seems to not like me? I suppose I wouldn't want my love working with their ex either.
"I don't want him driving across the city to come fight you." Soobin takes a big drink and makes a face like he isn't used to the taste. "He's very protective. A lot of the people close to me in the last two years have turned out to be wildly different than what I thought. Beomgyu just wants to protect me."
I could protect him. I'm sure I have far more connections than Beomgyu. The people I work with are some of the best. Sure, there are always some unpleasant characters but he could be so happy with me. I suppose that's why he choose this company. Even if he's not mine he still wants to be around me. Can I handle being just his friend? 
"Let's have a real drink." I say chugging my beer as I flag the waitress over. 
As the younger one here he won't refuse. The more we drink the easier it will be to talk about everything we need to get out. We need to find a comfortable spot so we can work together peacefully.
Soobin insists on paying the bill since he called me here. He follows me to a nearby convenience store with almost no fight. The cashier recognizes him and asks for a photo but he declines. He does sign a napkin. Technically, he's not suppose to do that, but I'm not going to snitch. I buy two bottles of soju and we end up on the roof of my building. 
I don't live too far from the trainee dorms. When he has to walk home he'll be fine. I'll make sure he's safe. Even if I have to walk him home myself.
"I'm feeling a lot of déjà vu right now." Soobin says after we've taken two soju shots. "Do you bring boys up here often?"
"They only see the inside of my bedroom." I say boldly hoping to elicit a reaction.
"I forget you don't know how to love anymore." He clicks his tongue. "Fake Love made that quite clear."
"Remember that song you sang me about Beomgyu?" I ask and he nods his head with a far off look in his eye. "Your group fucking ruined it."
We take two back to back shots. Soobin's face scrunches and every minute he is more handsome. Has his face always been so smooth? Have his lips always looked forever waiting to be kissed? Even his hair is recovering from the damage done by his last company. 
"They took me off lead on a song I wrote and produced!" He says passionately. His eyebrows scrunched together in anger. "I'm so glad I'm free of them. Sometimes I wish I'd never gone to America. I wouldn't have found them if it wasn't for my internship."
He takes a sip of juice I brought out from my fridge. I knew he'd need something to sip on. He's not as strong a drinker. Soobin shakes the bottle a little as our conversation continues.
"But you wouldn't have found Choi Beomgyu again." I say and he smiles when he hears his fiancé's name.
"Isn't it funny how we are all Choi's?" He giggles and I had forgotten how beautiful it sounded. "Yes, life went this way because that's what was meant to happen."
He pours us other round and holds it up waiting for me to toast with him. I'm reluctant because we've already had so many in a short period. But if I'm going to make an ass of myself might as well do it throughly.
"To one day being my best friend again." Soobin says with the biggest smile on his face.
He takes this shot no problem and I pull the bottle away. We'll take a little break. He's going to wake up hungover as fuck tomorrow. I'll feel bad about it tomorrow but if he feels just a little bit of what I've felt for six years maybe it's okay.
"Have you been together all six years?" I ask fidgeting with a loose thread on my pants.
"We broke up for a few months around our two year anniversary but we don't count it. I should've called then." He muses looking out on the city lights.
How can he say this and not expect me to kiss him? Or at the very least fight harder than I ever have for him. He had doubts and wanted to call me but didn't. I didn't think he could hurt me anymore than he already had. I was wrong.
"If you're so happy why are you saying that?"
"I wonder what my life would be if it was you I was marrying." He sneakily pours another round and shoots the shot. "I think about you more often then I'll ever admit. Beomgyu is practically perfect for me expect..."
Why is he doing this? All he is doing is giving me hope just for it to free fall and splat on the cement. I'd rather have no hope at all. At least then he can't hurt me more.
"What could he be missing? You fill your private socials with love letters to him and it's obvious your songs were about him." 
I'm desperate for an answer. I feel like I'm being led on. He says things that catch my attention and give me hope. I can't do this.
"There is a level of spark and connection that I had with you..." He pauses moving closer to me. "that I've never had with Beomgyu but I love him."
My breathing quickens as he moves closer but he only wants to pour me another shot. I take the first shot, then another wondering when this will numb my pain. I should send him home before I do something stupid, like confess my love again.
Soobin starts ranting about my songs and analyzing them. It's obvious that he loved them and he feels cool having songs about him. He keeps coming back to the happiest of the seven 'Our Summer.' Soobin can't describe how it makes him feel, but he says it's his favorite. 
"I've written songs about you as well but my old company said it was 'too depressing' for my group." 
I look up at him wondering what he's written about me. The songs about Beomgyu are usually sickeningly sweet. They don't use male pronouns but to anyone who knows him personally it's obvious. Most of the music produced with his former group was pretty bright and sweet. I can see why they didn't want something about his summer fling. 
"You'll have to play them for me sometime, Binnie." I say instead of the million things I'm thinking. His eyes light up when I call him by his old nickname. I've never wanted to read someone's mind more than I do right now. I want to know what he's thinking. What he's feeling. "Does he call you that?"
"No, it's reserved for you and my family. My fans used to call me it as well." He pauses with a somber expression. "I wonder if they'll support me if I ever debut again."
My head snaps towards him and we lock eyes. I can feel my face wrinkled with confusion. Of course he's going to debut again! It may take some time but of course he will.
"The only reason you won't debut again is if you give up on your dream." I touch his cheek. Probably not my best idea."I see your fans talk on twitter. They miss you a lot and can't wait for you to post new content. They'll support you when you debut again. How could they not? You're so special. I've never met an idol as down to earth and genuinely talented as you are."
I back away slowly. I'm dancing with the devil and I need to control myself. I'm his superior now. He has a fiancé. We aren't kids anymore. We can't make stupid mistakes, but I want to be stupid so bad. I want to kiss him just one more time.
"Thank you, Jjuni." He says and this time I don't protest. 
Hearing my nickname from his lips has a sort of calming effect on me. He looks so handsome sitting on the ground. His hair shinning in the dim light and his head thrown back looking at the stars. I wish I could stay in this moment forever, but I should get him back to his dorm. 
"I think you should go home. You have rehearsal in the morning and if you drink anymore you'll be sick." 
Soobin glares at me leaning over to snatch the second soju bottle. He quickly twists the cap and starts chugging.
"Soobin, no!" I exclaim as I try to take the bottle away without chipping his teeth. 
Somehow I manage to pull it away without hurting him. Why would he do that? Is he okay? Under normal circumstances this isn't something he'd do. Maybe he's more impulsive than when we are together. Or maybe just an alcoholic. 
He turns his back on me and pouts. I drink the rest of the bottle, which isn't much because he's a vacuum apparently. I think of how to address him and my drunk mouth deceives me.
"Love, we have rehearsal and my stupid ass has to be there too. I'll get in trouble if they find out we were drinking together."
He faces me when I say love and his eyes are watery. Soobin bolts forward and hugs me. I almost lose balance but manage to stay upright. I wrap my arms around him as tight as I can. Who knows when I'll get this opportunity again. I can feel his tears on my chest. I hold the back of his head tightly. 
"I miss you." He whispers so quietly I'm not sure he meant it or wanted me to hear.
He wears the same cologne and definitely washes his clothes with the same scent. Soobin smells like home and my heart feels so warm with him in my arms. I wish I could stay here forever.
"I missed you too. Let's go, I'll walk you home." 
By now all the other trainees should be asleep. If they aren't I'll pay them to be quiet. Soobin follows me closely hanging on the sleeve of my jacket. We might look like best friends to anyone who saw us. I wish that was the case. I wish there wasn't so much baggage between us. 
A few building over I pull Soobin to a stop. I don't want to be spotted just in case. He holds my hand while standing in front of me and I let my mouth slip again.
"I love you."
He hugs me tightly for a moment before speaking. Soobin has a dreamy expression that makes me think he's very intoxicated. He probably won't remember this tomorrow and that's for the best.
"And I love you but I've built a life with someone else. Perhaps if this happened five years ago things would be different. Let's forget this ever happened." He kisses my cheek and disappears up the street and into his building. 
Sobs wrack my body as I slip into an alleyway and slide down the wall. I curl into a ball putting my head on knees. I can't contain myself. I just want to scream. 
He loves me too, but he doesn't want me. How am I suppose to look him in the face every day? Does he think I won't remember this? Does he think that I'll be able to act like his friend when I know how he really feels? Did my songs make this much of a difference? Or was this waiting just below the surface?
I hope he doesn't do anything stupid when he gets home. Despite the fact he just broke my heart again I can't wish ill towards him. I want him to be happy but why would he tell me he loves then walk away. 
It's about twenty minutes before I pull myself off the ground and walk home. Crying for so long has left me feeling empty. I somehow set an alarm but fall asleep fully clothed. 
A few hours later my alarm is blaring and I just wish I could permanently sleep. I shut the alarm off seeing I have plenty of time to get ready. My head is pounding and my stomach is turning. I drink a glass of water and take a pain reliever on my way to the shower. 
Once in the shower the previous evening replays in my head and there are more tears. I pull myself together enough to make it outside. There is a ramen place near my apartment that is open almost all the time. I head that way in search of spicy noodles to help my hangover. 
An hour later I'm feeling a little better as I walk into the company building. I head into my office and start looking through tracks. I don't feel like being in a room with loud speakers right now. I especially don't want to be in a room with Soobin unless I'm needed. 
Two hours after rehearsal starts the other choreographer asks me to switch out because he's needed somewhere else. Begrudgingly, I close my programs and walk to the dance studio.
I greet a few people on my way but don't stick around to make conversation. All the trainees are present when I arrive. They are scattered around the room on their phones or drinking water. It takes me a moment to locate Soobin talking to the oldest trainee other than himself. He locks eyes with me and smiles. My heart shatters into smaller pieces. He doesn't remember or is pretending he doesn't.
"Split into trios. We are going to do this until every one of you can get this right with your eyes closed."
I work them harder than I need to just so I won't have to talk to Soobin. A few times I rudely corrected him and he looks taken aback. He can't receive special treatment. I can't be his friend. He loves me and still decides on someone else.
"Yeonjun!" Soobin calls after me when I'm leaving the building much later after a mentally exhausting day. 
"Mr. Choi." I snap back continuing to walk away from him. He catches my arm and I pull away from him.
"Come on, I'm not calling you that." Soobin says showing off his stupid perfect teeth. "We used to sleep together. Aren't we past that?"
I flinch when he says 'sleep together' so causally. It makes it seem like we were just fooling around. I understand where he's coming but boundaries are important.
"Do you remember what you said last night?" I ask and he tilts his head to the side.
"After you wrestled the soju bottle away it was pretty much a blur. Don't take anything I said too seriously I was gone." 
He makes a broad hand gesture and I can still see people coming out of our building. I pull him somewhere our co-workers won't see us. Still close but no one would think to look over here.
"So, I should just live with whatever you told me? Just forget this ever happened." I crook my fingers into quotation marks and he only looks more confused.
"What did I say to you?" Soobin asks with a worried expression. "I'm sure whatever it was I didn't mean it. We all say stupid shit when we've drank too much."
"Is telling me, you love me but you've built a life with another person and if this had happened five years ago maybe it'd be different, stupid shit?" I speak quickly on the verge of tears.
"Oh...I meant that." He looks over his shoulder and sees a trainee leaving and runs towards him before I can say anything. 
He knows I can't follow without looking suspicious. I can't hang out with him often without being reprimanded. I walk back to my apartment sulking and wishing I'd never given him my songs or that note. Maybe things could have been just fine and normal between us. Or maybe eventually it would've come out anyways. Either way I wish I could go back in time.
My evening is spent wondering what I should do about this situation. There isn't much I can actually do. Soobin has obviously made his mind up. I'm not going to tell Beomgyu what he's said to me. Even after his confession I don't think telling his fiancé would do anything. Beomgyu might try to keep him away from me if he found out. Would I rather live without him at all?
It takes every ounce of my self control not to call him. I want to figure this out in a place where he can't run away. It's funny how the confession I've been dreaming of for years has torn me apart. 
Impulsively, I email my boss. I rarely take time off or use my sick days. In the email I say I'm going through a personal crisis, but I'm in no immediate danger, and will be using my days off. I assure that I will be back in two weeks and sign off before sending it. 
A speck of weight leaves my shoulders knowing I won't be forced to see Soobin. A fantasy of him seeking me out plays through my mind but I shove it away. Wishful thinking will get me nowhere. 
I feel as though I'm at a moral impasse. Part of me wants to be with Soobin and fight for him no matter who he is engaged to. The other part of me realizes that's selfish because he's built a life with Beomgyu. Soobin and Beomgyu have been together practically their whole adult lives.
Must I leave it up to him? He must be confused right now as well. If he wants to talk we will, if not I'll just have to find a way to cope. Life isn't always sunshine and rainbows. I can't live in the fantasy land where he wants to be with me.
Maybe I'll just pretend it never happened. Could I see him around the company every day and not feel like my heart is being beat to a fine powder?
I walk to my living room and lie across the couch scrolling through social media. I'm about to put my phone down when I see Soobin has added to his story.
Technically, he's not supposed to have an Instagram account but again I'm not going to snitch. It's private and only his closest friends and family follow it. People that would never try to expose his relationship.
I click on the story and see he's having dinner with Beomgyu. Soobin calls him baby bear in the caption and he's put a location tag. It's like he's taunting me. It takes every bit of common sense I have not to run down there. He's out on a date with his fiancé less than 24 hours after confessing to me.
My next thought is to invite someone over and sneakily post about them to see if he'll get jealous. I don't think that'd be fair to the guy. I can't be that person right now. There isn't much hope I'd make it through that experience without tears. 
I scroll through twitter and see a photo of Soobin and I posted by one of his fans from my old Instagram. I immediately go to instagram and private the account. I'm not sure how it took them this long to find those, but the last thing he needs is more rumors. Some of those photos could definitely spark controversy. Particularly our tattoos and a few pictures of us almost kissing.
The fan seems mad I privated the account so quickly. They had already gotten a few photos but none that could do real damage. I see Soobin's fans speculating about how we know each other. I've worked with a lot of people so my name is decently know.
I spend a few hours watching them come up with theories until I find the right one. It's known that Soobin went to a dance studio for a summer before going to America. It's easy enough to find us on the alum list for the program. Even if they figure the rest out neither of us will confirm anything. 
It's nearly three in the morning by the time I fall asleep. Trying to figure out what to do for two weeks is difficult. I could go see my family but I don't think it'd be very helpful to me right now. Staying locked up in my apartment seems like the worst option.
When I wake up I have an email approving my time off and a few texts from concerned co-workers. I assure everyone I'm okay before getting up. After showering, I go out for breakfast. 
No one bothers me while I'm eating and I decide to visit my old dance studio. The one where I fell in love with Soobin. Possibly I'll find some kind of clarity there. But I'm not keeping my hopes high. 
I take a cab to the studio wondering what kind of classes are going on right now. Maybe I could join. It's been awhile since I've done any kind of workshop. 
The receptionist greets me kindly asking if I'd like to take a class. She stares at me like I look familiar. I've never seen her here before. I often come to visit my hyung. She must be new. There is literally a photo of me, along with other notable alum, on the wall in the hall between the studios. 
"Actually, I'm wondering if Park Jimin is here?" I fiddle with the edge of my jacket. 
"He's teaching a class right now in studio B. He should be done soon." She says looking down at her monitor. Then she suddenly looks up surprised and says, "Choi Yeonjun? Oh! Go right ahead."
I thank her smiling before I turn towards the studio Jimin is teaching in. I peer in the window not wanting to break them mid dance. Looks contemporary. I wait until they stop before entering the room.
"Choi Yeonjun!" I hear a few people stage whisper and not going to lie it boosts my ego.
Jimin turns around and a surprised look takes over his face. His pillow lips are slightly parted and his eyes are inviting. He runs towards me and wraps his arms around my waist. Jimin lets go half way to address his class. 
"Cool down then you're free to go. Practice at home and I'll see you tomorrow." Jimin lets go of my waist. 
He has a different air around him when he teaches. Much stricter and less playful. Jimin has dyed his hair blue for an upcoming music video he's dancing in. It's been awhile since I've seen him and it makes me genuinely happy to be here.
Jimin leads me to his office as we get through the normal small talk. He knows me well though and can tell something is off. Why else would be here in the middle of the day? 
"Are you alright? I haven't seen you in awhile." He sits in a comfy looking rolling chair and I take a seat on the sofa.
"Honestly hyung, the last few days have been pretty rough. Soobin is a new trainee at my company."
Jimin gasps looking over my head to a collage of his favorite students. He points and I nod my head. I take him through everything that has happened in the last few days. He knows the rest of the story we've been friends for years now. Jimin has set me up on many failed dates.
"Yeonjun..." Jimin seems shocked like he doesn't know what he'd do in this situation. "I've known you for years, and one thing I'm sure of is if you don't fight your very hardest right now you'll regret it for the rest of your life. He's precious to you and that means you should do everything in your power to win him back. If after you put your everything into trying to make him see how much you love him and he still marries Beomgyu you have to move on. I don't want to see you so miserable for the rest of your life. You deserve to find someone who makes you even happier than Soobin makes you feel."
Jimin locks eyes with me while he speaks and I can tell he's deeply concerned. This isn't the first time we've talked about Soobin, but I can tell he wants it to be the last. At least in this kind of situation. 
"I'm just not sure that I can take him breaking my heart again." I sigh rubbing my hands across my face. "He seems so happy but if he was actually happy why would he tell me that?"
Jimin shakes his head and I can tell he thinks I'm being naive. Usually that would hurt my feelings but I've had a little too much of that lately to really care.
"You wrote the boy a whole EP and a letter. That'd make me say things I usually wouldn't." He focuses on Soobin's photo. "Have another conversation, sober, and try to find some solid ground. Figure it out before you go mad."
We talk for a little while longer while he updates me on his life. He's hiring a new dance instructor and he's really excited. The studio is doing better than ever. Jimin promises to come teach a class at the company soon. He walks me to the entrance and we hug before parting ways.
I end up going for a walk past my old apartment building. Eventually, I end up near the river and I'm about to leave to get a meal when my phone dings. 
Soobin's name is on my screen. My heart flutters and I wish I could stop the idiotic optimism in my body. He's sent me a text message that is just an audio file. Trusting he isn't trying to hack my phone I download the file. I take my headphones out of my pocket and put them in. 
I press play on the audio recording and gloomy piano starts later joined by an acoustic guitar. It's a song about me. He recalls the highest highs and lowest lows we had creating a bittersweet melody. It's the kind of song that makes you wish you could make someone else feel that way. The stand out message is that he'd take the lowest moments a million times over to experience the best ones again.
Walking away from the river I message Soobin asking him if he wants to talk in person. I tell him to meet me at our old spot in an hour. That gives me plenty of time to eat before he'll arrive. Though it might have to be later since he's probably at the company.
After hours of meaningless wandering without a message I head home. Just as I've kicked my shoes off his name lights up my phone. I don't know what I was thinking earlier. Just because I'm not at work doesn't mean he isn't. 
I unlock my phone to see he's sent a text message. He says we can meet up in thirty minutes and he's sorry for replying late. I pick a location far enough away from our company that we won't cause suspicious. It's a park I used to walk in a lot when I first started working.
Despite knowing nothing is going to happen I find myself freshening up. I change into a top that's his favorite color and sigh. If only he could just be with me easily. Life plays me hard cards and I'm too stupid to figure out what I should do.
As I walk to the park I listen to his song again. It's nothing like the music his former group released. This means something. It's so deeply personal but in a way that could still be relatable to a wide audience. 
Sometimes I feel as if I'm the only one who has been through this kind of heart break. I know that isn't true and music constantly reminds me I'm not alone. Millions of people have felt this way. 
"Yeonjun?" I hear Soobin say from behind me.
I sit down on a bench that overlooks a stretch of grass. He joins me sitting as far away as he can. Through the dim street lights I can see how nervous he looks. 
"Why'd you send me the song?"
He takes a deep breath shuffling in his seat. My guess is he was being impulsive and sent without thinking. Soobin obviously doesn't know how much pain he's causing me.
"You didn't come to work today and I'm having a hard time expressing myself." He pauses looking over at me. "My music is the only way I can make you understand. I meant to send more but I had to go back to rehearsal."
I'm replaying the song in my mind. Alone that song just makes me yearn harder. Hearing he would take the pain again for just a little happy with me hurts.
"You keep running away when I try to talk. Every moment I spend around you makes this harder. You can't tell me you still love me then go out to dinner with your baby bear." I practically sneer the last two words. "You lied to him and he doesn't deserve that no matter how much I want you." 
"I wish it was you sometimes." His voice cracks and my instant reaction is to wrap an arm around his shoulder. "I know how fucked up that sounds. Beomgyu is incredible and I love him so much but he's not you."
He's crying and my heart is hardly under control. Part of me can't understand why he doesn't just leave Beomgyu. The sensible part of me knows sometimes you just aren't meant to be with someone. Soobin's face is buried in my chest and I rub the back of his head.
I gather every ounce of selflessness in my body while preparing a speech. There are a lot of things I want but there is no point in putting myself through more pain. The love of my life is sitting in my arms crying about how confused he is. I don't want him to feel like I have since the moment he left. 
"As much as I love you and want you to leave him I know it's not good for you. I want you to be happy and I wish that was with me but it's not. Beomgyu makes you happy and seems like he can take good care of you." I take a deep breath trying to fight off the tears. "We can't keep living in the past. All that's going to do is hurt us. Everything will work out."
Soobin lifts his head tears running down his cute cheeks. I wipe away the tears and he tries to calm himself down. He wipes his face with his sleeves leaving traces of foundation.
"I'm so thankful for you." 
His words make my heart flutter and I wonder if that will ever go away. We talk a little while longer and I explain I'm taking some time off. He asks what he needs to do to make me more comfortable. I explain to him we need to become friends again. Just friends.
It's takes months before my heart doesn't stutter every time he walks into a room. Soobin sent the rest of the songs about me and it helped me understand. Around month three Soobin suggested I hang out with Beomgyu. I was really against it at first but with some persuasion I gave in. He is a really nice person and I think we could be good friends.
If you told me last year I would be singing an original piece at Soobin's wedding to someone else I would have laughed in your face. But here I am in my best suit waiting for guests to arrive. Soobin is across the room touching up his makeup. 
A part of my heart will always belong to him. Maybe in another lifetime we'll be together. This time he's meant to marry Beomgyu and have a long happy life. I've grown happy for them with little jealousy or malice. 
I cross the room and stand behind him. Soobin is brushing his cheeks with a light blush. I watch him in the mirror and he smiles when he realizes I'm behind him. I'd be lying if I said his smile isn't dazzling anymore.
"You sure about this, Binnie?" I say in what I hope is a joking tone. 
"Yes, Jjuni. I've never been more sure." He turns around with a huge smile. "Are you ready?"
I rarely perform in front of crowds but I'm not nervous about that at all. Even after coming to terms with all this it's still going to be hard to watch him get married.
"Of course, anything for you." I tap his bicep where his fox tattoo is hidden by his white tuxedo. He does the same to me before turning away for a final look in the mirror. 
The ceremony is beautiful. So many people from our past are here. Jimin clutches my hand tightly while they say their vows knowing how hard this must be for me. A few others that know Soobin from our summer give me sympathetic glances. But I'm okay. I feel happy to be a part of such a special moment in their lives.
The song I wrote for them is actually an older piece that was about Soobin and I. With some changed lyrics and the addition of 'baby bear' no one will be able to tell it was what I wanted to sing at my wedding. I preform powerfully and the audience kindly gives me a standing ovation. My eyes lock on Soobin as I bow and I think he can tell this wasn't always their song.
Soobin is so surrounded by guests congratulating him and Beomgyu, he doesn't have a moment to call me out. Maybe I shouldn't have done that but everyone seemed to like it. 
Kang Taehyun finds me after we've eaten a wonderful meal and compliments my performance. We keep talking until the speeches start. Taehyun is a solo artist who gets more popular every year. I'm really proud of him. He don't talk as much as we used too. Maybe I'll talk with him more after this. 
The speeches make my heart ache so I swiftly down the champagne Soobin and Beomgyu have so kindly provided. I don't remember much of what is said but the dancing afterwards is fun. 
Taehyun stays by my side and we dance the whole night. I learn so much about him that I never knew. The years have been kind to him and it makes me hopeful that I have a new friend.
As I'm about to leave the venue Soobin pulls me into a dressing room. His cheeks are flushed and it's showing through what makeup he hasn't cried off. He looks so handsome with the dim light shining onto his face.
"Congratulations." I say softly. "I'm happy that you found your person."
His face contorts like this isn't the response he expected. I've grown a lot in the last few months. It's time for me to stop with my childish fantasies. 
"Thank you." He says shoving his hands in his pockets. "I really liked your song though I wish it would've been actually about Beomgyu and I."
"Can't expect me to be perfect all the time, Binnie."
He laughs thinking over something for a minute before he speaks again. Soobin runs a hand through his hair ruining the perfectly sculpted quiff. 
"Thank you for being here." He pauses reaching out to touch my hidden tattoo. "Love you."
For the first time my heart doesn't skip a beat at those words. I can tell he means it in a friendly way. The lack of I bothers me momentarily but I brush it off. I step forward and hug him tightly.
"Love you too."
9 notes · View notes
deviantartdramahub · 4 months ago
Note
Their comments were removed, but someone asked me if I could clarify my association with the forums as implied before. I was once an avid user of the forums. However, there was a lot of culture shock, and I left after this same culture shock got me banned from a number of other places.
In the pinned post here, there's a list of ten commandments called the ten e-cepts. Due to a need to be concise, they're written in the style of a first century philosopher, which means you're supposed to emphasize subtext a lot, and one of the decrees implies (via subtext) a site is the property of its maker and those rightfully appointed by them.
This I can get down with. So it goes without saying what I can get down with a lot less are people (who are obsessed with the individual whose suspension after all their harasser friends harassing everyone here got banned cements in place the modly power of the DeviantArtDramaHub mod who can verify herself), especially ones whose accounts are the means of ban evading by people who were forum-banned at the time so they can perpetuate the very culture people fear, comparing the managers of a venue to tyrannies who commit atrocities like autonomy theft when they could be doing something more fitting than being nepotistic like like worrying about the recent mass panic or doing the forbidden dance now that their account says "forbidden" (yeah that would be more productive). Entitled much?
Think about it. Among the most disliked individuals, even the likes of Triagonal (and Club-Dreamiverse, and to think they're after these two as they gain footing, I wonder why) never complained (as opposed to just talking about it) about being punished/banned/whatever even though she spoke about such things a lot, or made spammy feudal exchanges jabbing personal details about people (yo, can someone like Tri post a temple garment selfie without someone blowing up about tradition). But you got the other side of the spectrum here, people like Foruminator/Threadhoster who get hit once and suddenly they're a like FIFA player.
I can't wait for the full animalmageddon (Druid69 doesn't count despite what people say) because my very last hope for the place was RogueStarDemon before I saw he's a deviant.
I see you're starting to say "like" a lot like me, albeit differently due to your native language.
Both the thread closing and the suspension hold the same source, as well as a ban.
0 notes
whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago
Text
not allowed v, m | myg
pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of jungkook x reader – est. poly relationship
summary: BTS have had a long, busy day. Heck, a busy week, preparing for 2021 Grammys performance and interviews. It’s finally over, and all Min Yoongi wants is to take a shower and sleep with his favorite person. There’s no one like you. He deserves some special treatment – some belated birthday wishes granted perhaps?
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; domestic shower care (aww) and shower sex (hell yeah); feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, fingering, nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, handjob / blowjob (with tongue technology), f-receiving oral, doggy, spanking); idol!BTS; occurs the night of the 2021 Grammys
part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: MYG asks JJK to fuck you, again, let’s keep this going, oop JK dyed his hair blue; based on real time.
"I'm sorry you didn't win."
"It's okay. It was a long shot anyway."
"Well, you are good at basketball, so you can make a long shot, easy."
A deep, raspy chuckle. "Next time."
Water drummed against the tile, the rhythm interrupted by you working shampoo through black hair, conjuring fistfuls of lathered white clouds. The head lifted a little and you were about to chastise him, but one look into those black-brown eyes and small sheepish smile looking down at you, and you forgot what you were going to say. 
"It was never about us anyway. We wanted to win so ARMY could brag about us."
You grinned, chuckling a little. "They always brag about you, Yoongi."
You saw something flit across his face, but he didn't say anything. You already knew. I wish you could brag about me. And you did, but not in the way he wanted, because he was Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, Agust D sometimes, and your secret all of the time. You closed the distance, a simple, sweet kiss in response to his wordless wish, I know, me too, hands curling in his soapy hair, smiling gently against his lips. Hm. You could feel Yoongi was thoroughly enjoying your wet breasts against his chest. 
Something hard was poking you quite insistently.
You drew back a little and Yoongi's hands circled your waist, keeping your hips to him.
"Thought you said you were sleepy?" you teased.
Yoongi grinned slyly. "I changed my mind."
You chuckled, tipping his head back to rinse his hair off, forcing him to close his eyes with a displeased grunt. You could tell from his dark circles that he was tired from the stress of the day, having to wake up at two in the morning and be ready for his call time at five, but he still insisted for you to come, still insisted for you to sneak around and be here when he came home. You didn't get to see Yoongi on his birthday and not during the weekend before either. He was too busy filming content and preparing for the Grammys.
You did send him a voice message of you singing happy birthday and he replied with, thank you, my love, instead of the usual, you would benefit from a vocal coach, which meant he missed you far too much to tease you. 
You carefully straightened his neck and Yoongi breathed out, raising a hand to push his black hair away from his face, slicking it back and exposing his forehead. 
Oof.
Sexy. 
Yoongi's eyes opened, dark brown orbs reflecting the mischief in his smirk. 
"You sure you don't want me to call the maknae?" he asked not-so-innocently. 
You narrowed your eyes at him. He knew what he was doing. 
Your boyfriend had posted a selfie this morning, only to be followed up by Jeon Jungkook’s adorable pose in a colorful fluffy flannel shirt on Weverse. Earlier in the week, Jungkook had cutely invaded and sang happy birthday on Yoongi’s celebratory live, and then put up a picture of himself on his post for said hyung’s birthday.
The absolute gall of the Golden Maknae. 
Needless to say, you were disappointed, but not surprised. Only slightly though. Jungkook was like that. A little bit – alright, a lot – of a naughty little shit that needed his cock brutally choked by your throat or pussy every once in a while. Actually, no, definitely both, just to be on the safe side. But this day was not that day.
"You said you wanted to be selfish today," was your calm response to Yoongi's question, reaching behind him to rinse off your hands, pressing your tits into his chest. Your eyes flickered up to his. Yoongi raised an eyebrow as your fingers trailed on his back, drawing small patterns. 
"Has he been a bad boy?" he chuckled, referring to, of course, the shameless audacity of your other boyfriend, well-loved and doted-on Jeon Jungkook. 
Your expression matched his, inquiring but already knowing the answer. A silent conversation between kindred souls that followed the same thought process. Closer, water gliding between your bodies, lips fitting against his, lightly nipping at his lower lip as if to say, we're both a little mean, Yoongi chuckling in agreement as he captured your lips forcefully. Hands all over wet bodies, pressing him to you and him reciprocating, hot water seeming hotter, steam getting steamier, kisses passionate and intense, Yoongi pushing you into the shower wall, not letting you get away.
Jungkook had known you were coming, but he wasn't allowed to attend this time. 
He said he was tired from the events of today and he wanted you to spend time with Yoongi alone because it had been Yoongi's birthday recently and they should definitely get special treatment during their birthdays, right?
"I want special treatment on my birthday, so I suppose hyung should as well..." 
"Ah, that's too bad, I was looking forward to punishing you."
"Noona...!" You could hear the shy pout in Jungkook's voice as it lowered, whispering into his phone. "Don't say stuff like that..."
You heard a sneaky cat-like purr in the background. "Say what?"
Jungkook started and you heard the violent rattle of the phone falling, followed by scrambles to retrieve it. Ah. You could see now why Jungkook's phone was taped.
"Hyung! Don’t... I thought you were still in the bathroom..."
"Mmm." You knew that what that hum meant. You've been on the phone for a while. And Jungkook had, lamenting that he wished they could have won the award and had a celebration live with ARMY and you had to reassure him over and over that there would be more chances and ARMY was already very proud with the nomination, yourself included. 
"Uh... do you want to talk to hyung? He's here..." Jungkook did not sound like he wanted to give his phone up. He was only asking out of politeness.
"No, Jungkook, I'll see him in a bit."
"She said no, huh?" Yoongi mused and then you heard the sounds of footsteps wandering away. 
Jungkook made a questioning noise, but you reoriented him rather quickly. 
"I want to hear your voice some more, Jungkook." You recalled the opening of the Grammys 'Dynamite' performance and his teasing, cocky nose scrunch. "Was feeling rather sexy during the recording, weren't you?"
"You saw?" An edge of excitement to his tone. "That was for you, noona," he added playfully. 
"No, it wasn't."
His faint, wicked snicker. "Okay, you're right, but I did think about you while doing it."
"Mmmhmm. What part of me? My smiling face or my warm mouth wrapped around your cock?"
"Noona!"
Alright, you did end up giving Jungkook a little bit of punishment, because neither you nor himself could help it. And at the very end, he played along, whining for you because he knew you wanted him to. Fuck, he was getting clever now, remembering all the things you liked. Stupid sexy Jungkook and his duality.
"Can't I come too? Please, noona?"
It took a lot of refuse his cute voice, but you did make a promise to Yoongi and you never broke your promises.
"Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."
Reliving your memory was abruptly interrupted by two fingers sliding into your pussy.
"Excuse you," you muttered into Yoongi's lips. 
"What are you thinking about that's gotten you so wet, hm?" he drawled, dripping water down your cheeks and chest, kissing from your lips and up your jaw, slowly working his fingers in and out, your wetness thicker, warmer than the water, leaking down his knuckles. His voice in your ear, low and dangerous, making you fall for him more and more. "Thinking about me or the maknae?"
...
Min Yoongi knew you too well.
"T-That's..."
Couldn't think of a smart comeback, not with Yoongi's voice so sensual and invasive, staring up at the hazy ceiling while he sucked on your ear, biting your lip to stifle your moans, nerves lighting with shivering arousal. His fingers controlled, measured, focused on deeply penetrating you to graze your favorite spots, rubbing your walls and pressing his thumb into your clit, slow circles causing throbs of pleasure to glide through you. Yoongi knew all the places that made you weak, licking right under your ear to make you whimper for him, kissing and sucking up and down the curve. The warm water created a steady hum, background music for his dirty words. 
"Is that why Jungkookie ran so fast to the bathroom earlier today, hm? Mmm, you shouldn't mess with him so much. You should know better as his noona," Yoongi murmured softly, speeding up, catching your earlobe with his teeth and tugging on it, words slightly muffled as he continued, waves of heat flaring upwards with every thrust. "He'll keep teasing you, pretending it's for ARMY, and then when he has you next, he'll make you beg for his cock…" Teeth biting down, leaving a visible mark, his gravelly whisper sparking inhibitions. 
"And I'm going to watch you."
Fuck you, Min Yoongi, for always knowing the right thing to say.
Yoongi flicked your clit and you cried out, bucking into his hand, almost losing balance, but his left arm came up behind the small of your back and held you in place, strong and unyielding, orgasm cut short with your sudden worry of straining his recovery, but Yoongi already knew, cooing comfortingly in your inflamed ear. 
"I was dancing during the recording, remember?"
Right, he was cleared to dance, but still...
And again, Yoongi led you back into the proper headspace, kissing and nipping down your neck, tongue against your collarbones, stroking your side with his left hand as his right pushed in and out of you, building the pace and your needy gasps once more. 
"Shh, you're a good girl, don't move and nothing bad will happen."
A tinge of menace in his voice, indicating the double meaning, I won't get hurt and maybe you won't get punished. Only a maybe though, sending a delighted spark up your spine, pressing your shoulder blades into the shower wall, instinctively raising one of your legs to give Yoongi more space. You glanced down, but he wasn't looking at you, eyes calmly closed, soaked black strands sticking to his forehead as his pink lips wrapped around one of your nipples. Instant pleasure from his expert tongue, teasing the moans of his name out of you, praising him, fuck yes, Yoongi, so good, I love this, fingers filling you repeatedly, thumb knuckle grinding onto your clit, sucking on your hard nipple. You were so focused on the feeling that your torso froze up, head and hands pressed into the wall, back arcing as you came, pulses of ecstasy enveloping you, but Yoongi didn't stop, forcing another finger inside your tight hole, whines in your throat as your shuddering pussy sucked it in, still riding waves of aftershocks.
His left hand slid up and pinched your ignored nipple. 
"Yoongi, fuck...!"
You could only curse the gods that created the genius that was Min Yoongi, chuckling as he rubbed your left nipple, sucked on the right, thumb knuckle on your clit, three fingers fully stuffed inside you, so hard and so fast that his forearm was nearly vibrating. Too coordinated, too rough, too much, mind going blank, already orgasming, and again, and again, not stopping.
He was too good. 
Yoongi wasn’t going to stop until you made him. 
Your eyes rolled back, rocketing bolts of pleasure overtaking everything, entire body shaking and quivering with overstimulation, your own knuckles white because your fingers somehow curled into fists, moans rattling your chest as wave after wave of pleasure attacked you, pushing you to the brink of collapse.
"Y-Yoongi, oh, fuuuuuuuk, Yoongi!"
Your body made the executive decision for you, left hand shooting down and grabbing his forearm, gripping it tightly, gasping for air, making sure to keep his long fingers buried all the way inside, his hard muscle flexing under your palm. Fuck, so hot. Yoongi immediately stopped, detaching his mouth from your nipple, and you could barely protest, tremors thundering through your torso as your pussy spasmed and soaked his fingers with your sweet-sour juices, your inner muscles rapidly clenching and unclenching around him, his low moans filling your ears as he felt each strong pulse, stretching his fingers against your convulsing walls to amplify your pleasure and feel it all.
"Fuck..." Yoongi panted, leaning against you and your heaving chest. "Fuck, you're so pretty when you're wrecked." 
His lips on your temple, kissing you fiercely, grinding his crotch into your hip and revealing how hard he was as you tried to come down, tried to calm your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. You turned your head to face him and he was there, devouring your lips with rough kisses, pulling his fingers out to tug and pinch at your nipples with his knuckles, smirking at your submissive whines, your hands wandering down and gripping his length, leisurely stroking him.
Now Yoongi was the one gasping into your mouth, switching to rubbing your hard sensitive nipples to coax you to do more, switching your positions in the shower so his back was to the water. The two of you were only half-finished washing up, but neither of you seemed to notice or care.
You backed up a little, breaking the kiss, seeing Yoongi’s dazed expression as you lightly cupped the head of his cock in your palm, gently rolling into the slickness, continuing for several seconds before adding a little more pressure. He inhaled sharply, pleading for more with his breathing alone. His chin was slightly tilted upwards, black hair sticking to his forehead, pink lips slightly parted, water trickling in rivets down his neck and chest.
Yoongi noticed you staring and gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk.
Who taught Jeon Jungkook how to be hot as hell?
It had to have been Min Yoongi.
You mentally took note of this image of wet Yoongi so you could masturbate to it later.
He cocked a brow and you cocked one back, challenging him. Then you dropped to your knees, careful with the slippery floor, and yanked his hips to your face so he blocked all of the water with his body. His stiff length smacked you in the lips and smeared pre-cum on them. You heard Yoongi gasp and you looked up, seeing him watching you, expectation and hunger in his dark eyes.
You smirked, tongue snaking out and licking your lips to taste him.
“Is my good girl going to do all my favorite things?” he drawled in his extra-low octave.
Your pussy throbbed at his domineering tone. You didn’t have to say anything, your scorching gaze alone creating that amused smirk on Yoongi’s lips. I know what you want. One hand holding up his cock, leaning forward, and Yoongi groaned in satisfaction, your mouth sucking in one of his balls, your deft tongue circling the other in loud, messy slurps, suffocating one while licking the other. You flicked your wrist back and forth, pumping his cock as you worked his balls, lips tight and pulling slightly, tongue flexed and slapping against the other.
You looked up at Yoongi’s dilated pupils, knowing that he could see flashes of your pink tongue against his balls, your hand stroking him slowly and deliberately.
“You’re so good, fuck… So fucking good at that,” Yoongi panted. “Every other man in the world is jealous that they’re never going to get to experience this.”
You popped your mouth off, making him hiss with pleasure. “That’s not true. I’ll give it to Jungkookie eventually.”
“Ah, he’s lucky that I picked him.”
You raised your eyebrows, you picked him, uh huh, I was the one stalking him on Twitter, and Yoongi nudged you with his hips, eyes narrowing dangerously, put my balls in your fucking mouth, and you obeyed, switching to his right side and sucking it into your plush lips, tongue snaking out to lap at his left one, now pumping him with your dominant right hand. He sucked in a breath, moaning softly, clenching his jaw as you increased to his favorite pressure and speed.
“Fuck, yes, make me cum just like this,” he snarled, as much a plea as it was an order, rocking his hips a little so he tugged on his balls in your mouth, forcing you to suck harder and lick more roughly to keep him in place, obscene slurps adding another layer to the song that was the falling water, Yoongi’s moans, and the rapid slap-slap-slap of your hand furiously jacking off his twitching hardness. You glanced up at him and he was observing you closely, drinking in every second of your mouth, hand, and spread-open thighs as you kneeled for him, water dripping off your nipples and ass, groaning your name, tone saturated with lust.
“Ah, fuck, I love you so much, you look so fucking good like this…”
You could tell he was getting close with how shallow his breathing was becoming. Tighter, harder, so devoted to the cause that you were whimpering to add vibration to the multiple sensations, drunk on the taste of his skin and the scent of his pre-cum right next to your head, needing it, wanting it, right now, your eyes telling him, please Yoongi, cum for me, want you to cum for me so bad, and he bit his lip, tense growl contained in his throat that morphed into a drawn-out wail.
“Fuck, now, fuck!”
You abruptly pulled off his balls and Yoongi gasped, startled and confused as you quickly repositioned yourself so he shot thick strings onto your mouth, painting your red swollen lips with drizzles of white, up your cheek and onto your nose, dark eyes wide as he witnessed his indecent mark on you. Like something out of a literal porno, your lips coated with glossy lines of his semen. You looked up at him, still holding his cock, sinfully triumphant.
Your devious smirk covered in cum.
“You wicked, dirty woman,” Yoongi breathed in amazement.
His hand was travelling down so you removed yours, already guessing what was coming next. You placed your hands on your thighs, sinking into the softness as Yoongi groaned, wrapping his fingers around his cock, pumping himself slowly to the image of your cum-covered puffy lips, red and white, upper body tilted back so your hard nipples pointed upwards towards him, squeezing your breasts together with your arms while your hands kept your thighs spread, wet pussy exposed to him.
“Fuck,” he hissed, so hard you could see the flashes of veins standing out through his fingers. “You’re too much, too sexy, come closer so I can use that mouth.”
You scooted nearer and Yoongi pushed his cock into your lips, moaning as he watched his orgasm smear down his length and disappear with each centimeter his cock into your tight, hot mouth, your eyes taking in the jerks of his shoulders and slack jaw, forcing you to take him all the way to the base. He was so turned on that you knew he wasn’t going to last as long as he wanted, but there was no stopping him now, already shallowly thrusting. You knew how to make him pause though, tightly tensing your throat muscles around the tip. Yoongi threw his head back, your name a desperate whine.
“Please, shit, I’m so fucking sensitive, fuck…”
Slowly Yoongi’s head rolled back and you took the chance to slide your tongue out, hands coming up to cup his balls, licking them in playful figure-eights with his entire length crammed down your throat, barely able to breathe.
You didn’t care.
Yoongi was in literal heaven.
Swearing, gasping, moaning, enjoying it for a good twenty seconds before fitting his right hand behind your head, tangled in your wet hair.
“Hold me,” he gritted out. “Hold me so I can fuck your face.”
You backed up a little to take a deep lungful of air, placing your hands on his hips. There was so much adrenaline coursing through your veins that you didn’t even notice that your knees were screaming in pain, completely focused on getting your throat ready for Yoongi’s abuse.
Your eyes flickered up to him, giving him the signal.
Yoongi grinned and began to thrust into your mouth. You adjusted your neck a little and Yoongi hissed, the throbbing head of his cock now rubbing against the roof of your mouth with every slide down your throat, rolling his hips into your face. You could tell he wanted to keep it slow, but his body craved the speed and he finally gave in, fucking your face mercilessly, fast and rough, nearly choking you but not quite, and that was the best part, Yoongi always knowing the edge, always knowing how much you could take, chuckling darkly as your moaned around his cock, trying not to dig your nails into his skin.
“It’s okay, do it,” Yoongi nudged, devilish edge to his voice. “Do it. No one is going to look there.”
Eye contact.
You sure?
He ticked a brow.
How many people were going to look at his ass? Eh, he was right.
You sank your nails into his hips and dragged them down, creating red scratches around his crotch.
“Yes, fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped with your name, urging you for more, you clawing at his ass as he forced himself between your tight lips, marking him up, praying no one was going to ask why his ass looked like a cat’s scratching post, but it was doomed, your cries vibrating his cock, Yoongi losing control, lustful shudder as his cock jolted in your mouth, spilling down your throat. You swallowed greedily, puffing breath around his thick length, sucking a little so you could feel every quiver, his taste strong and salty, so delicious that your pussy pulsated with satisfaction even through it wasn’t being stimulated.
You felt Yoongi caress your wet hair, soft praises floating down to your ears. You licked him delicately, ghosting your tongue around and around the head. He shivered, exhaling hard.
“Such a good girl, taking me so well…”
You felt his cock soften. You did what any sensible human would do and took him all the way in your mouth to bounce his balls with your tongue.
Yoongi chuckled.
“You’re crazy.”
You gave him your gurgled response with his dick still down your throat.
“You’re right, I do love it.” He tapped your cheek. “But the water’s getting cold, so let’s finish this shower and get into bed.”
-
“Yoongi?”
“Hm?”
“What happened to my ripped panties?”
“From last time? Don’t know. Jungkook had them in his pocket.”
You frowned, working product through your wet hair. “I hope he threw them away safely.”
Yoongi looked thoughtful. “Ah, is that what he snuck over to Jimin’s room for?”
“What?”
He shrugged. “It would be a good cover.”
You gawked at him.
Yoongi didn’t elaborate, going back to daintily and dutifully applying his skincare.
-
Get into bed.
This wasn’t exactly what you thought Yoongi meant, but you weren’t mad at it.
“Fuck, that’s so insanely hot…”
You were kneeling on the bed, chin on the pillows, knees spread, hands on your ass cheeks to spread your pussy open so your boyfriend Min Yoongi could watch you flex your wet opening.
At least he gave you time to blow-dry your hair before ordering you around.
For the moment, you were staring at the headboard, keenly concentrating on the exact precision and force needed to open and close with varying degrees. Most of the time, there was no need to be this focused, but Yoongi had asked for a show, so you were going to give him one. You could hear him slowly stroking himself, panting with exertion and awe. The bed sank a little as his weight was added, coming up behind you. Anticipation zipped through your veins, heartbeat spiking.
“A-ah!”
You felt a cold, fine spray on your ass and back. The fuck? Then the scent hit you, sudden citrus mixed with a verdant musk and the base of pine wood. On your skin, it immediately morphed, turning warmer, almost smokier, different than how it smelled on Yoongi. You twisted your head around, giving Yoongi’s smirking face a startled look.
“Did you just spray me with your cologne?”
He tucked his tongue between his neat white teeth. “No.” Which obviously meant yes.
You narrowed your eyes. “You shouldn’t do that. Someone might figure it out.”
Yoongi raised an eyebrow underneath his fluffy black bangs. “I’m sure many people buy and wear my cologne, including women. Can’t keep anything a secret these days.”
There was a twinge of arrogance and wistfulness in his deep voice, but before you could break it down and ask, what about me, Yoongi leaned in and shoved his tongue into your pussy.
“F-fuck, Yoongi!”
His satisfied groan trembled through your nerves, igniting arousal and causing you to clench around his tongue involuntarily. He didn’t have to say it, both of you already thinking it, keep going, but now you were gasping, getting wetter and wetter with the addition of Yoongi’s tongue lazily sliding up and down as your muscles contracted and relaxed, letting him feel your skill and power, his moans vibrating through you from your core. It was already slick and getting slicker, Yoongi’s tongue gracefully sliding through your folds, thrusting into your hole, your juices like honey seeping onto his greedy mouth, so fucking good you didn’t need to control it anymore, it was just happening, and it took everything in you not to shove your ass into his face even though you wanted to, because you didn’t want to make any sudden movements and accidentally hurt him when he had already worked so hard today.
Yoongi chuckled.
“Fuck you,” you hissed, knowing he could see the strain in your arms and the tremble of your hips trying to keep your position as he sucked on your clit.
He removed his mouth and you grumbled in disappointment, cutting yourself off when you heard the distinct rip of a foil packet.
“No, fuck you.”
Yoongi said it as if he was telling someone the time and not about to forcefully plunge his dick right into where his mouth was a second ago.
“Ah, fuck yes, Yoongi…”
He sank right in, stretching you out deliciously, sighing as your wet walls molded around his cock, familiar and wonderful. You finally had the chance to remove your hands from your ass so you could hold yourself up, relieving some of the pressure on your poor knees.
“I’m choosing to ignore your disrespect,” Yoongi purred, placing his hands on your hips and bottoming out, his balls smacking your engorged clit roughly, earning a low hiss from your throat. Your fingers twisted into the sheets, breathing hard as your body adjusted. He was asking you how you wanted it. You clicked your tongue and turned your head back, seeing him watching you closely under his black hair shadowing his dark brown eyes.
“What a nice guy,” you remarked in a cool, defiant tone, borderline bored.
Come on, Yoongi, mess me up.
His lips curved into that devious, open-mouthed smirk you loved so much.
“Mhm.”
He slid out and slapped his crotch into your ass, hard.
“Yes, Yoongi, fuck!”
Your nails sank into your palms and you shoved your fists into the sheets, locking your upper body so you could push back into his rough thrusts, pleased grin on your lips, his perfect cock filling you over and over again, core tensed tight to feel all of him, the thick head forcing its way deep inside slick velvet, the rock-hard length twitching against each ridge, his balls bouncing against your inflamed clit, so full, so good, so intense that it almost hurt.
It wasn’t enough.
Panting hard, chest shuddering, you reached up and planted a hand flat against the headboard and clenched your jaw, bucking back into Yoongi’s crotch. His voice was mind-numbingly deep, full of desire and danger.
“Harder it is, my love.”
You smirked, then gasped as you felt the hot sting of Yoongi’s palm on your ass, the sound reverting against the apartment walls. He didn’t stop, fucking you hard into the bed and slapping your ass as you kept up with his pace, doing half the work for him so he could focus on each sharp spank to make your ass bounce on his cock, the bed screaming for you two to stop, but neither of you noticed, completely focused on chasing wild, feral pleasure, Yoongi growling your name and you moaning at his carnal tone, soaking his skin with thick, sweet-smelling juices, pussy violently massaging his length.
“That’s it,” Yoongi hissed, breathing rapid and shallow, ceasing his slapping of your red ass to seize your hips and fuck you even harder, digging his nails into your skin and marking you with his lust. “Feels so good fucking this perfect body just the way I like.”
Fuck, his voice, taking your heart and setting your world into lustful wildfire, no one like him, nothing like this, making you lose your mind and fuck back against him harder, the roller coaster climbing higher and higher and higher, Yoongi cursing under his breath, and you were so far gone that you almost didn’t pick up his words.
“Shit, Jungkookie would have loved watching you get wrecked by me.”
A low moan ripped from your throat, the thought of Jungkook’s needy voice and expression seeing you get pounded by Yoongi’s full strength, being told to watch and probably not being able to help touching himself, fuck, you wanted it, wanted Jungkook so bad at that very moment, wanted to show him how ruined you were, knowing he would love it, crave it, desire it, fuck, it was too much and you came hard, seeing stars, planets, fuck it, the whole fucking galaxy, fingernails curling into the headboard and whining at the sensitivity, body rolling onto Yoongi’s cock and squeezing it powerfully. Yoongi gasped out your name, grip tightening as he spilled into the condom, his length pulsating and twitching into your walls. You thought that was it, but Yoongi’s fingers snaked down between your legs.
“Oh, fuck, Yoongi, Yoongi, fuck!”
He roughly rubbed your aching clit with two fingers, forcing you to cum again around his cock, moaning loudly with every convulsion of your overstimulated pussy, viscous juices clinging to the insides of your joined thighs, completely defeating the purpose of the fucking shower, but neither of you seemed to remember that, Yoongi too busy using his last ounce of strength to push you to your limit, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves and vibrating his fingertips against it, your eyes rolling back and spine clattering as another orgasm blasted through you, up your torso and straight to your head, numbing pleasure overtaking everything, arm going slack and forgetting to hold yourself up, hand slipping on the headboard, fatigue finally having its way.
Yoongi was quick to slide his hand up your belly and keep you up, wiry strength of his right arm balancing between your breasts to prevent you from falling into the bed.
“Holy f-fuck…”
The words sounded far away even though they were yours, the resounding beat in your ears being your pulse trying to catch up, nerves tingling all over, acutely aware of the tiny flinches gliding across your skin, aftershocks of a particularly explosive orgasm. Your pussy was still throbbing around Yoongi’s spent cock, locking him in your embrace. You planted your hands onto the bed and lifted yourself up rather shakily, taking the burden off Yoongi’s arm.
“You okay?” Yoongi asked, caressing the underside of your breast lightly.
You had the energy to raise one hand and give him a thumbs-up.
He rapped your ribcage. “Stop that.”
You chuckled, finding your voice a bit hoarse. “Why? You always do it in pictures.”
You heard Yoongi mumble disapprovingly behind you. “Is that why you do that? To make fun of me when I take photos?”
“Almost eight years of being an idol and you still don’t know what to do with your hands in pictures,” you teased.
He pinched your nipples roughly and you yelped.
“I know what to do with my hands around you,” Yoongi growled, rubbing them between his fingertips, your moans radiating off his walls. “And that’s what matters.”
-
interlude 20210419 drabble — “This is not allowed, you two.”
part vi “Shh, you’re not allowed to tell anyone.”
--
masterpost
516 notes · View notes
spine-buster · 4 years ago
Text
Patience is a Virtue ft. Matthew Tkachuk | 𝒯𝑒𝓂𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒
Tumblr media
CONTENT WARNING: this story deals with cults, polygamous cults, escaping cults, strict adherence to religion, gender roles, abuse, miscarriage, and a character with a traumatic past. ̲𝖳̲𝗁̲𝗂̲𝗌̲ ̲𝖼̲𝗁̲𝖺̲𝗉̲𝗍̲𝖾̲𝗋̲ ̲𝗌̲𝗉̲𝖾̲𝖼̲𝗂̲𝖿̲𝗂̲𝖼̲𝖺̲𝗅̲𝗅̲𝗒̲ ̲𝗁̲𝖺̲𝗌̲ ̲𝗆̲𝖾̲𝗇̲𝗍̲𝗂̲𝗈̲𝗇̲𝗌̲ ̲𝖺̲𝗇̲𝖽̲ ̲𝖽̲𝖾̲𝖺̲𝗅̲𝗌̲ ̲𝗐̲𝗂̲𝗍̲𝗁̲ ̲𝗍̲𝗋̲𝖺̲𝗎̲𝗆̲𝖺̲ ̲𝖺̲𝗋̲𝗂̲𝗌̲𝗂̲𝗇̲𝗀̲ ̲𝖿̲𝗋̲𝗈̲𝗆̲ ̲𝗆̲𝗂̲𝗌̲𝖼̲𝖺̲𝗋̲𝗋̲𝗂̲𝖺̲𝗀̲𝖾̲𝗌̲ ̲𝖺̲𝗇̲𝖽̲ ̲𝗌̲𝖾̲𝗑̲𝗎̲𝖺̲𝗅̲ ̲𝖺̲𝖻̲𝗎̲𝗌̲𝖾̲.̲ Please be warned.
Word Count: 15,503
A/N:  I have been loving your feedback on this story so far.  Your canon question about Matthew and Effie are great and I would love to hear and answer more.  It means the world to me that a plot this...unconventional, let’s say, is really taking hold and generating interest.  I know that there’s some really, really serious stuff dealt with in the chapters, so I appreciate everyone’s feedback and maturity about it.  As always, please check the content warning for this chapter.  Otherwise, I hope everyone enjoys the update!
                                                          *     *     *     *     *
She wrote every message on Instagram like an email, and Matthew couldn’t get enough of it.
Hello Matthew,
Today was interesting.  I started classes for my business certificate today.  I sat in a room with about 50 other people and I listened to my professor speak about the course prospectus and what we would be learning and doing.  I didn’t meet any new people or make any new friends but that’s okay.  I want to focus on my studies.  I already have homework.
How has St. Louis been?  I bet you are excited to be back home.  I hope you are relaxing and staying safe.
Sincerely, Effie Schaffer
I know you are going to ace that program, Effie.  You’re very talented and smart and it’ll be no time until you find yourself with a certificate and able to explore more job opportunities.
St. Louis is good.  Brady and Taryn are home too so it’s good to be surrounded by family.  I know it’s not the same for you but one day I think you will find a group of friends that will make up your family.  Most days I go golfing with my dad.  I usually relax by our pool too, or play basketball or some other sport with Brady.  I go to the gym too, to keep up on my fitness for next season.
*
Hello Matthew,
Class was good today.  We started the beginning lectures.  The professor went quickly but I was able to keep up.  I’m definitely learning how to type fast on my laptop!
You said in your message that I’m very talented but I don’t think I’m talented.  I’m maybe talented at some things like baking, but I don’t think I’m talented in much else.  Talents are developed over time and I was never given the opportunity to develop anything because I was expected to be a good wife, tend to children, and read the Bible.  Sometimes I think about if I could have been a piano player or a singer or something creative.  Maybe I could have been a writer like Geneviève if I was given the opportunity young, but I wasn’t.  But that’s okay.  I am trying to make my peace with it.  I will develop what I have now and try to use it for good.  
Sincerely, Effie Schaffer
Nobody bakes like you, Effie.  Please don’t think you are not talented, because you are.  I know you weren’t able to develop anything like you said, but you can still find your talents now.  You’re still young!  You’re only entering your 20s in a few weeks.  You can do whatever you set your mind to.
*
Hi Matthew,
Levi and Jenna took me to the mall again today.  We bought some new clothes that fit me better and aren’t so baggy.  They look really nice.  I even bought a dress that falls right at my knee.  Can you believe it?!  I never thought I’d wear something like that.  I never thought anybody else would be able to see my legs!  It’s a very weird feeling but it’s a very pretty dress.  Jenna said I should wear it for my birthday and I think I’m going to do it.  Do you want to see it?  I can send you a picture of it if you want.
I checked the weather in St. Louis and saw there was a big thunderstorm.  I hope you weren’t caught it in or anything.  I can’t imagine your curly hair getting wet in the rain and what it would look like.
Sincerely, Effie Schaffer
What are you trying to say about my hair??????????
I would love to see your dress.  I bet it looks great on you.  And you will need to send me pictures of you wearing it on your birthday.
*
They happened daily.  Usually sometime after dinner, when Matthew knew Effie had just finished eating and was either winding down for the night or preparing to do homework.  Every day, he waited for the message.  And every day, he’d grab his phone the second he heard the notification, not bothering to wait, and read the message eagerly.
***
Matthew found himself at a raucous house party, one that could have been characteristic of any stereotypical college experience or American movie trying to depict a traditional American life.  It felt like it was straight out of the American Pie movies.  A friend of his was hosting, and there was everything – beer kegs, jungle juice, trashed guys jumping into the pool, music blasting so loud Matthew almost couldn’t hear his own thoughts, girls taking selfies and posting to Instagram or complaining about boys at the party not paying attention to them.  
Hot girls taking selfies and posting to Instagram or complaining about boys – he and Brady – not paying attention to them.
Brady was taken and accounted for – Emma was great and Matthew loved her, even though he saw her only sparingly – and so most of the attention tonight was placed on Matthew.  He was the shiny new toy every time he came back to St. Louis in the summers – well, shiny always, but new not so much.  Nothing was new about him being in St. Louis in the summer, but everybody always treated is as such a big deal because he spent most of the year in Calgary.  That’s why attention was always on him, especially at parties like this.  That’s why everybody wanted to talk to him.  That’s why all the girls wanted to talk to him.  Matthew didn’t want to think about it.  He wanted to enjoy his night with his buddies, drinking beer and chatting them all up.  
That was…until Leah made an appearance.
Leah, a girl.  Leah, a girl he would hook up with in the summers…occasionally.  Sporadically.  Like, once a summer when he was back.  Maybe twice.  She’d always show up everywhere and smile and be nice.  And when Matthew was tipsy, or just a little bit drunk, he’d think ‘What the hell’ and let the night take him where it wanted to take him.
Just like now.
“Hey Matty,” she cooed, smiling as she always did and biting the bottom of her lip.  She went in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.  He could swear she spilled some of her jungle juice on his neck.
“Hey Leah,” he said, his lips in a tight smile as she pulled away.  She was wearing a frilly crocheted top and cut-off denim shorts.  She looked hot.  Any guy at the party would have wanted to hook up with her.  “How are you?”
“Better now that I see you,” her flirting was automatic.  “How long have you been back for?”
“A few weeks,” Matthew shrugged his shoulders.
“And no call or text?  Ouch, Matty.”
“You always show up places,” he found himself saying, feeling his lips curve into a smirk.  “Didn’t think I needed to call.”
“Well then maybe I should have sent you a text.”
The party went on.  Matthew hung out with his buddies and talked up a storm.  Everybody got a kick out of his hockey stories and were practically begging for more.  He’d catch Leah staring at him from a few friend groups away where she stayed with her girlfriends, or from across the backyard or something, and she’d always bite her lip and flutter her eyelashes.  The beers kept pouring down his throat and he noticed her get closer and closer until she wiggled her way in with her friends.  It probably took a while, but in Matthew’s mind, it felt like it was only a minute until she was right in front of him, red solo cup in her hand.  
“Have you tried the jungle juice?” she asked.
He shook his head.  “I’ve been drinking beer all night.”
“Come get some inside with me,” she said, already grabbing his hand.  She wasn’t taking no for an answer.  She pulled him as he staggered behind her, almost tripping on the steps of the patio and while walking through the screen door.  When they finally got to the kitchen, Leah looked over her shoulder and winked before tugging Matthew nearer to her body.  She spun around in front of the jungle juice to pour some more into her cup.  When she did, Matthew could feel her ass up against his groin.  He felt like he was going to pass out from the beer.
“Did you miss me, Matty?” she asked as she looked at him over her shoulder again.
“I miss everyone in St. Louis,” he replied.
Leah apparently didn’t like that response, because she grinded her ass up against his groin even harder now.  “Don’t say that,” she cooed.  “I know you miss me.  It’s not like there’s anybody in Calgary like me.”
Matthew hummed.  She was right.  There wasn’t anybody like her in Calgary.
Effie was nothing like her.
Matthew’s stomach twisted as images of Effie flooded his mind.  The first one that came was the day he had picked her up at the hairdresser’s when she’d chopped off all her hair.  She looked so cute, and he remembered how bashful he was.  Then came the image of her sitting on another couch watching Little Women intently, at least fifteen bags of candy spread out on the coffee table of Levi’s basement.  She was so into watching the movie, and he was so into watching her.  Then came the image of her face, sweet and innocent and beautiful – the last face he saw in Calgary before heading to the airport and boarding a plane to St. Louis.  “No,” he mumbled out, half-drunk and heart aching.  
“No,” Leah repeated with a smile on her face, turning around finally to face him before trailing her finger down his chest and letting in linger on the hem of his jeans.  “There’s nobody in Calgary like me.”
He furrowed his brows.  He wanted out, but his feet felt like cement.  They always were when he was on the edge of being drunk.  He gulped.  “Where’s Brady?”
“Come with me, Matty,” she tugged at his jeans before grabbing his hands again and dragging him through the house.  She kept looking over her shoulder to smile at him and he kept looking back towards the backyard.  “I know what you need.”
She led him down a hallway, and at the end of that hallway was the bathroom.  She turned on the light and dragged him inside, shutting the door behind them and locking it.  She looked at him suggestively when the click filled the air.  “Le—”
“Shhh…” she pressed her finger against his lips to shut him up, replacing them quickly with her lips as she began to kiss him.  
Matthew closed his eyes.
These weren’t Effie’s lips.
She was kissing his neck now, and had backed him into the sink so he could lean against it.  Her hands wandered down to the button and zipper of his jeans.  Suddenly, she dipped down and was on her knees in front of him.  “Want me to suck you off, Matty?”
“N—No,” he stuttered out, looking down at her.  Matthew felt the zipper being pushed down and her hand on his groin.
“You can come down my throat,” she offered.  
He closed his eyes tightly, and in the darkness, he saw only one person: Effie.  
The only thing that brought him back – because he could have stayed alone in the bathroom with his eyes closed and the image of Effie in his mind for the rest of the God damn party if he really wanted to – was the sound of his zipper being pushed down dramatically.  He opened his eyes.  “Would you stop?!” he demanded, wiggling out of where he’d been backed into the sink.  He grabbed the front of his pants and zipped them up again.
Leah, still on her knees, spun around and glared at him.  “Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” she got up slowly, not breaking eye contact.  “You have someone in Calgary?” she demanded.
Matthew refused to answer as he did up his button.
“Who the fuck is she?” she demanded again.
“There’s nobody.”
“Fucking hell there’s nobody.  What’s her name?”
“Don’t go there, Leah.  As if I’d tell you.”
“You’re fucking someone in Calgary?  Since when?”
“As if I’d tell you,” he repeated.
She gave him one last glare because unlocking the door.  “Fuck you Matthew Tkachuk.  You’ll fucking miss me.”
“Doubt it.”
***
Hi Matthew,
I went to a Starbucks today to work on some school work and people watch.  When you get back to Calgary, we will need to find a new Starbucks because the one near Levi’s house is too far away now.  Anyway, I was working on an assignment and watching people interact and go about their daily lives.  It was eye-opening and a bit weird to me.  A lot of people were on their phones!  It makes me wonder if I should be on it more…?  A lot of the girls who walked in were really fashionable and it makes me want to go shopping again.  I don’t think I’ll ever look as good as Geneviève or Annica but I could definitely try, and they could help me.  I learn a lot by people watching.  Does that make me weird?
I had a Zoom call with Geneviève and Jacob in Sweden.  She is doing well and helped me with my assignment a little bit.  I’ve been baking shortbread recently, and I’m going to make butter tarts tomorrow.  I miss you being my taste-tester, but I bet you are happy to have home cooking.  Sometimes I wonder if my siblings miss my cooking but I doubt they do.
Did you think I was weird when I said I didn’t miss my family at all?
Sincerely, Effie Schaffer
I do not think you are weird at all for not missing your family.  They were abusive.  You have no reason to miss them.
People are addicted to their phones these days, which is why you’re so refreshing.  You’re not a slave to it…at least yet lol.  I hurt my eyes sometimes from staring at my screen too long.  
I can’t wait to eat ALL of your baking when I get back.  It’s the best, Effie.  It really is.
I miss you a lot.
*
Hi Matthew,
I miss you too.
Thank you for not thinking I’m weird for not missing my family.
I’ve been watching a lot of movies and listening to a lot of music.  I’ve been researching what’s been popular since I was born and I’m trying to, like, catch up I guess.  Some of the movies I don’t like or don’t get.  Some of them are really funny, and I watched them because I know people quote them all the time.  Like this movie called Bridesmaids.  I want to be able to get references people make even though I wasn’t in the moment of them.  There are some movies I’ve read about online that seem amazing, but I don’t want to watch them alone.  They are:
Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind Moonlight There Will Be Blood Shoplifters Brokeback Mountain The Master Unorthodox
When you come back to Calgary, would you watch them all with me?
Sincerely, Effie Schaffer
Of course I’ll watch them all with you.
***
Effie Schaffer woke up the morning of her 20th birthday, on July 7, 2021, to her phone ringing.  Birthdays were not a thing in the People’s Dominion of Christ.  They were not celebrated.  Effie always knew when hers was, but as a kid she never had a birthday party, and when she was forced to marry the prophet, she hated her birthday.  Hated it.  She always wished that the prophet would forget about it but he never did.  It was the one day of the year she spent the most time praying, and when she was not praying, she was with the prophet on his demand.  Several weeks later, usually, after a lot of blood loss and visit from the cult’s midwife (though she wasn’t properly medically trained), Abraham would tell Effie that everything was her fault, that God was testing him when He spoke to Abraham and told him to take Effie as his wife.  “July 7.  7/7.  One number above the Devil,” he’d tell her.  “That’s what you are.  Just above the devil.  Your blood and your loss are the signs of having the devil in you.  That’s why you refuse to carry my Son of God.”
She wasn’t expecting anybody to call besides Levi and Jenna, but they said they would be picking her up at noon anyway.  After she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up in bed a little bit, she was pleasantly surprised, albeit a little shocked, to see Matthew’s name flash across the screen.  The giant FaceTime text was at the bottom of screen.  Effie swiped to answer.  After a bit of lagging, Matthew’s smiling face appeared.  “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” he screamed, loudly, causing her to jump slightly.  
“Thank you, Matthew,” she said, her heartbeat going back to normal.
“How does it feel to officially be in your twenties?” he asked.
Effie could barely think, so she shrugged.  “When I wake up and my brain starts working, I’ll tell you.”
Matthew furrowed his brows.  It was only then that he noticed half of her hair in a scrunchie and the pillows behind her head.  “Oh shit, I fucked up time zones, didn’t I?” he asked worriedly.  “What time is it there?”
Effie looked at her watch.  “It’s 7:30 in the morning.”
“I woke you up!  Jesus Effie, I’m so sorry,” he began to apologize.  “I’m such an idiot—”
“It’s okay, Matthew,” she said, smiling at how his own smile had faded from his face when he realized he had woken her up early.  7:30 in the morning would have been a godsend two years ago, when she usually woke up at 5:30.  “It’s nice to be woken up by your voice on my birthday, actually.  Someone is at least treating it like a birthday.”
“Levi’s gonna treat you,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  As if Levi wouldn’t.
“I know,” she said.  “I mean, like…before.  Birthdays weren’t exactly a celebration.”
“You never used to celebrate your birthday?” he asked, thinking back to all the amazing birthdays his parents had thrown he and his siblings over the years.  Because his was so close to Christmas, it was extra special.  His parents always made sure Christmas didn’t overshadow it too much.  Same with Taryn being born on Halloween.  Brady’s parties were always good too because they were right after the start of school, so usually the entire class would be invited.  
“No,” Effie shook her head.  Matthew was sort of waiting for her to elaborate, but it seemed like she didn’t want to.  He left it at that.  “Levi’s taking me to that steakhouse we went to for Noah’s birthday,” she informed him.  “I think I’m gonna have another tomahawk.”
Matthew smiled again.  “Please do, in honour of me.”
“Maybe I’ll take a picture of it to show you what you’re missing.”
“Believe me, I know what I’m missing,” he said.  He bit his lip, wondering for a quick second if he should tell her about the gifts coming her way.  He quickly decided against it, thinking it would be better left as a surprise.  “I’m sorry I can’t be there, Effie.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Matthew,” she told him, meaning it sincerely.  “It’s an amazing thing that you’re so close to them.  I…believe me, I know how important that is…to be able to have people who love you unconditionally, to be able to have people who love you and want to see you and always have your best interests at heart.  I would never want to take that away from you.  And besides, when we watch all those movies together…you’ll be there.  We’ll be reunited.”
He licked his lips, nodding quickly.  “You bet.”
***
Matthew had been lying around the house all day after playing a round of golf with his dad that morning.  He’d tanned by the pool with Taryn and ate straight from the bag of Veggie Straws, but he was pretty glued to his phone because he wanted to see the delivery updates for the gifts he’d gotten Effie for her birthday.
The first gift was a giant bouquet of flowers.  Peonies, mostly, of course, because of her tattoo, set in a beautiful vase.  He’d gotten the delivery notification, then about five minutes later he’d received a picture of it from Effie over Instagram saying thank you.  Fifteen minutes later, she uploaded a photo of it to her Instagram feed and tagged him.  ‘Beautiful bouquet of peonies from my friend Matthew!  I am twenty years old today.’ was her caption.  That was the first gift.
The second was a delivery of some cookies from an amazing bakery in Calgary that Annica and Geneviève always ordered from.  The cookies were divine, but realistically, they weren’t better than Effie’s cookies.  But Effie making cookies for her own birthday wasn’t exactly a gift, so he knew he’d have to order her a batch.  Again, he’d gotten the notification that the cookies had been delivered, and ten minutes later, Effie had sent a selfie of her with one of the chocolate chip cookies.  ‘Yum!’ she’d texted with the photo.  Another notification on Instagram told him Effie had uploaded another photo and tagged him in it.  ‘My friend Matthew gave me cookies too!  How sweet!  Cookies are some of my favourite treats.’  He absolutely loved her feed and the way she used Instagram.  If he had to delete everyone else and just follow her, he’d do it.
The last gift was the trickiest.  He didn’t know how she’d react.  But she didn’t have one of her own – she’d been borrowing Jenna’s – and she needed one, quite literally, for her job.  He wondered if she’d like the colour.  And the make.  And all the attachments.
A ‘MATTHEW, YOU DIDN’T’ text suddenly came through on his phone, and he couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.  It was the first time it didn’t sound like an email.
Do u like it? he texted back.
I LOVE IT IN THE PISTACHIO TOO MY FAVOURITE COLOUR AND THE SIFTER ATTACHMENT AND THE ICE CREAM MAKER ATTACHMENT MATTHEW!
Im happy u like it! Now u can bake all you want and not have to borrow Jenna’s
“Taryn, mom needs you inside to help with something,” Brady’s voice boomed through the silence of the backyard.  Matthew heard the screen door burst open, and watched conspicuously through his sunglasses as Brady more or less barged towards them.  
“Can she wait?” Taryn didn’t make any effort to move.
“Now Taryn.  She seems pretty adamant,” Brady didn’t give up, his tone serious as he continued to walk towards them.
Taryn grumbled and got up from her seat.  Matthew locked his phone and pretended not to care, even when Brady took Taryn’s place in her lawn chair right beside him and didn’t bother lying down.  Instead, he sat facing Matthew, elbows on his knees and hands joined together, like he was a cop about to interrogate his brother.  “Who’s in Calgary?”
Matthew looked over at him.  “Huh?”
“Who’s in Calgary?” Brady asked again.
Matthew was confused.  “G…Gio?” he asked.
“Who’s in Calgary that made you not hook up with Leah at the party?”
Matthew’s heart dropped in the pit of his stomach.  For fuck sakes.  He sighed deeply and took off his sunglasses, trying to make it seem like everything was being blown out of proportion when, really, Matthew just didn’t want people knowing.  But he told Brady everything – everything.  He was sort of impressed that the secret had lasted this long, if he was being honest.  “Brady…” he began, his voice low.
Brady took off his sunglasses too.  “There’s a girl.”
“Sort of.  It’s complicated.”
“It’s complicated?  What’s her name?”
Matthew thought about not telling him, but there was no point.  Brady would find out eventually, and Matthew would rather Brady learn the news from him than from the rumour mill or from Leah stalking his social media.  “It’s…Effie.”
“Effie?”
“Who’s Effie?” Taryn voice boomed.  The boys whipped their head to see her standing at their family room’s sliding doors, hiding behind the screen door.
“Taryn!” both brothers yelled at their sister.
“Effie?  Who’s Effie?” Chantal called out from the kitchen.
“What’s an Effie?” Keith asked from beside Chantal.  
“Oh my GOD this is a disaster!” Matthew screamed out in frustration.  “Get out of here, Taryn!”
“Who’s Effie?” Brady demanded once more.
Matthew put his heads in his hands dramatically before giving up.  There was no way he was going to get out of this.  Now his whole family would know.  It would be a game of telephone, and by the end of his and Brady’s conversation, Keith would hear Matthew married a girl named Jessie who’d grown up in a hut.  “You remember me talking about one of our physio guys?  Levi Schaffer?” Matthew asked.  Brady nodded.  “His younger sister.”
Brady furrowed his brows.  “Isn’t Levi in his thirties?  You’re dating an older woman, Matthew?”
Matthew rolled his eyes.  “No, you dolt.  She’s fifteen years younger than he is.”
“SHE’S FIFTEEN?!”
“WHAT?!” Taryn screamed from the screen door again.
“AAAAAAARGHHHH!” Matthew screamed in absolute frustration.  “You are literally the dumbest person alive, you know that right?!” he screamed at Brady.
“Matthew!  Apologize to your brother!” Chantal called from the house, opening the screen door and stepping through into the backyard with Keith.  
“But mom!  He’s an idiot!”
“Matthew,” Keith’s voice bellowed. “Now.”
“Sorry,” Matthew grumbled.  His parents always made the siblings do this stuff, ever since they were kids.  “Can we just drop it all?” he asked.
“Nope.  We’re all here now,” Brady said.  “Who’s Effie?”
Matthew sighed heavily.  “She’s a girl I met through my friend Levi at work.”
“What’s the big deal?  Are you dating her?” Keith asked.
“No,” Matthew answered immediately, shaking his head.  “No.  We’re not dating.  Not at all.  She…” he began, trying to find the right words.
“She…” Brady egged on.
“She’s a bit…” Matthew began again.  How was he going to tell them?  How was he gonna word it?  Should he sugar coat it or just come out and say it?  “She’s a bit…different.  She…she and Levi grew up in one of those, like, religious cults, out in rural Alberta.  But a year and a half ago, she escaped, and she’s been trying to adjust to the real world ever since.  I met her in January, at Noah’s birthday.  And ever since, I’ve just been, like…helping her experience the normal world.”
The entire Tkachuk family was silent as they processed the information.  They were definitely expecting a much different explanation from Matthew, that was for sure.  “A religious cult, Matthew?” Chantal was the first to speak.  Matthew nodded his head.  Chantal grew serious.  “Was she abused?”
Matthew hesitated, but he eventually nodded his head.  It wasn’t his business to tell – he knew that – but he couldn’t lie to his own mother.  “She could only wear dresses.  She had to read the Bible all day.  She was married at fourteen to the leader of the cult who was 55.  That sort of thing,” he explained briefly, not wanting to give any more details.
Chantal looked concerned.  Keith looked at his wife before looking back at his son.  “So you’re not dating her, but you’re helping her learn about the real world,” Keith clarified.  Matthew nodded again.  Keith looked at Brady.  “Then that’s none of our business! What’s the big deal?” he huffed.
“It’s not—”
“Why’re you busting his balls then?”
“Keith!” Chantal chastised.
***
Hi Matthew,
I still can’t believe you got me the stand mixer.  I love it so much.  It’s the only thing that I have out on my countertop because there’s no reason to hide it.  And the pistachio colour is sooooooo beautiful.  I promise that as a token of appreciation, I’m going to bake you whatever sweets you want when you get back to Calgary.  Seriously.  Anything you want.  Even if I haven’t made it before.  And I’ll make ice cream too!
I have been taking some walks around Calgary in my spare time.  It’s a really beautiful city.  Sometimes I will do my walks at night and see all the young people out at restaurants and bars and all the light are lit up downtown, and it’s even more beautiful.  It’s so nice to see life in people.  Everybody in the cult was so miserable.  Maybe I’m just saying that because I was so miserable, but that’s how I remember it.  Nobody was happy about life.  Well, they weren’t happy about life like the people in downtown Calgary are on a Friday or Saturday night.  
Sincerely, Effie Schaffer
Calgary is definitely a beautiful city, and I’m happy that you’re starting to see that.  Wait until you see even more of the country and the world one day!  All of those young people that you see out and about are your age.  I know you are probably very nervous to make new friends, but if you ever want to go out to one of those places, I’m sure Levi or Jenna would take you.  When the team gets back into the city, I know any of the guys would take you too, just like when we went out for Andrew’s birthday.  You just let us know when.  And I apologize in advance for Noah’s behaviour.
I’m going to put in a request for snickerdoodles.  My mom used to make them a lot growing up, but she doesn’t make them as much now because then I’d eat them all and get too pudgy.
*
Hi Matthew,
Snickerdoodles it is.  I will perfect the recipe before you come back.
On top of movies, I’ve also been listening to music.  Levi lets me use his Spotify.  He also told me what an iPod is…was.  Have you heard of Adele?  She’s amazing!  I love her voice.  Most of the time I just let Spotify recommend me things and I end up liking them, but Levi introduced me to some bands too.  Have you heard of Bruce Springsteen?  Taylor Swift?  The Tragically Hip?  Red Hot Chili Peppers?  They’re all so good.  Red Hot Chili Peppers is Levi’s favourite band.  I also really like listening to Coldplay.  I think they’re my favourite out of all of them.  But I also like dancing songs, like the songs that have a good beat.  I wasn’t allowed to dance before (it was too sensual and would tempt the men) so now I feel like I should let it all out.
Sincerely, Effie Schaffer
Dance your heart out Effie.  Fuck them.
Fuck them.
***
Matthew was antsy.  Antsy.  The second the plane landed in Calgary, his leg was bobbing up and down to get off the plane, grab his bags, and go straight to Effie’s apartment.  
It was the first time since he had lived in Calgary that he wanted to go anywhere but his apartment after a flight back to the city.  But Effie had that effect on him these days.  He hadn’t seen her in three months – almost four.  And he was dying to.  FaceTimes and Instagram-messages-formatted-as-emails could only do so much, and satisfy so much in his mind.  He needed to see her, physically see her.  He didn’t know what had happened to him in the past few months, especially since he and Effie had left on such a good note.  No need to rush things.  Take the time.  But this entire summer, all Matthew could think about was her.  All he dreamt about was her.  He wondered if it was the same for her too.  And he wondered, if it was, if she would admit it.
Once he got his bags from baggage claim, he hightailed it out of the airport and got into a taxi.  He gave the driver Effie’s address, and within half an hour, he found himself with his suitcases at the foot of her apartment.
Okay, so maybe he didn’t think this through.  
He hauled both of his suitcases up the staircase, most definitely putting chips in the wood steps along the way.  It reminded him of moving her in to the place months ago, with him yelling at Sean for half of the day but ending with a slice of pie and his first kiss from Effie.  He didn’t know what to expect now, but he knew that whatever he’d get, he’d be happy with.  He knocked on her door and waited.  
When Effie opened it, she looked confused because she wasn’t expecting anybody.  But the second she saw Matthew’s face, her face lit up like a night show of fireworks.  “Matthew!” she squealed, jumping on him and wrapping her arms tightly around his broad shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her waist.  “What are you doing here?!  You weren’t supposed to be back in Calgary for a few days!” the shock was still evident in her voice.
“Just thought I’d take an earlier flight out,” he said casually.  “Gonna need to customize to the time change anyway.”
As if an hour was going to be a big shock to his system.
When Effie pulled away, she still kept her hands on his shoulders and he kept his hands at her waist.  She’d gained more weight throughout the summer, thankfully, and filled out more.  The pair of jeans she was wearing actually fit.  The top she was wearing actually fit too – a simple navy-striped long sleeve.  He was happy to see that.  She’d been so frail when he met her in January.  She looked like she had life in her now.  “Have you even gone home?” she asked, looking down at his suitcases behind him, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Uh…no,” he said awkwardly.  “Can I bring them in?  I just wanted to see you.”
Effie couldn’t help but gulp at his words.  “I just wanted to see you.”  Nobody had ever said those words to her before – not even her own mother, she thought.  Nobody was ever happy to see her in the cult.  But in the real world, Matthew was.  “Yeah, come in,” she said, moving to remove her hands from his shoulders to give him more space to haul his suitcases into her entrance.  He closed the door behind him when he was done, and that’s when the reality snapped back into Effie’s mind.  “Oh no!” she exclaimed worriedly.
Matthew automatically got worried too.  “Oh no what?”
“You came home early and I—I didn’t make your snickerdoodles!”
A smile automatically appeared on his face.  “Effie, it’s okay,” he said softly, slipping off his shoes.  “It’s not like I told you I was coming back to Calgary.”
The worried look didn’t leave her face.  “Are you sure?  I—I didn’t mean to forget.  I actually made one batch but I thought they could be better for you so I was going to make another and—”
“Effie,” he said sternly, placing a hand over hers, which had bunched together nervously.  “It’s alright.  It’s okay.”
“Are you sure?” she asked one more time.
“I’m positive,” he squeezed her hands gently.  “Just gives me another excuse to come over again in a few days, really.”
A small smile crept on Effie’s face as she realized Matthew wasn’t angry.  Usually, when something like this happened, the outcome was much different.  She didn’t have to worry about that anymore.  “Well come in then, come in,” she said, moving further into her apartment so Matthew could follow her.  “D’you want something to drink?” she asked, already opening up her fridge.
“Tell me what you’ve been learning in school,” Matthew said instead, leaning against it.  “I want to hear everything I missed.”
Effie couldn’t stop talking after that.  They had managed to migrate to her couch and she told him about her courses and teachers and homework and assignments and textbooks and her new computer and the classroom and the building and the campus and the Starbucks on campus and the cafeteria she’d eat in and the vending machine she’d buy snacks from and the bench she’d sit on waiting for class and everything.  Everything.  There was nothing she didn’t talk about.  And he listened to it all, listened to all of it intently, not interrupting once, asking follow-up questions and asking her for more more more more more.  He couldn’t get enough.  He forgot about his water.  He forgot about the homemade Rice Krispie she gave him on a plate on her coffee table.  He forgot that he was going to suggest they go out to a Starbucks.  He forgot that he hadn’t seen her in months and was so desperate to see her that he came here before he even went to his own apartment.  All he could think about was here, and all he could pay attention to was what she was saying.  
He wanted it like this all the time.
“How’s therapy going?” he asked, finally remembering his water and taking a quick sip from his glass.  
“I’m seeing a sex therapist now too.”
That was a bombshell.  Matthew tried not to make it show that he was shocked at the news, but she’d said it so casually – like everyone saw a sex therapist.  And, like, a therapist was one thing, but a sex therapist was another.  He understood why she’d need one, but it was still a shock to him.  “Oh yeah?” he tried to say casually.
Effie nodded her head.  “I told Dr. Barlow how we’d been kissing,” she said, biting her lip and blushing slightly.  “And, um…well, I told her some other things, so she suggested I see the sex therapist to help fix them.”
Fix them?  Matthew had no idea what she meant.  He moved slightly closer to her on the couch as he furrowed his brows.  “What else did you tell her?” he asked softly.  Effie averted his gaze, looking away as if she were embarrassed.  “Effie, come on, you can tell me,” he urged.
“Well…when we—do you promise not to freak out at me?”
His heart ached.  “Of course.”
“When we started kissing—well, when I started kissing you…I liked it a lot,” she said.
“We were kissing each other,” he said, correcting her, because he knew language was important and the way things were phrased was important and he wanted her to know he was 100% in on it too.  He wasn’t exactly innocent.  He was a willing accomplice.  “I was kissing you too.  I liked it a lot too.”
Effie nodded her head.  “Well…I liked it a lot.  But then we had that talk and you left for St. Louis and we were in a good place.  Dr. Barlow told me that was very mature of me, and that she was very impressed.  But then…”
“But then…”
Effie kept averting his gaze.  “Um…but then, well, you weren’t here, and I started to have dreams of us kissing.  I’d lean into you and close my eyes and kiss you.  And your lips were soft like I remembered.  But then it would change.  Quickly.  And it would hurt.  It—it would hurt.  And I’d open my eyes and instead of you, it was…Abraham.  And I’d get so scared.  I’d wake up screaming.”
Matthew’s heart fell in the pit of his stomach.  He felt like he was going to be sick.  “I made you feel that way?”
“No!  No you didn’t,” she shook her head vehemently.  “It was only when you left.  When you’re—Matthew, no,” her words were jumbled because she had started crying.  “When we kissed, I liked it.  I liked it so much.  But my mind was playing tricks on me.”
“Effie, if I hurt you—”
“You didn’t.  You didn’t hurt me at all,” she pressed, her hand extending automatically to grab at his forearm comfortingly.  “You could never hurt me Matthew.  Ever.  I just…” her voice had gotten softer, frailer, more like it had been in January.  “I still see him sometimes.”
If Matthew’s heart had fallen into the pit of his stomach before, then now it had just shattered into a billion pieces.  “Oh, Effie…” he barely got out.
“I don’t want to see him ever again,” she said.  
“C’mere,” he said softly, pulling her body towards his so he could hug her.  He wrapped his arms around her tightly and could feel Effie melt into him, her head cradled on his chest.  He wanted her to feel as safe as possible with him – he’d wanted that since the beginning.  With this new revelation, he now wanted it more than ever.  “You’ll never see him again, Effie.  I promise you.”
“I know I won’t.  I know.  This is happening because of what happened to me.”
“When he would hurt you.”
Effie looked up at him, nodding, almost embarrassingly.  “I know that he can’t hurt me anymore.  But my dreams would take me back to when he did.  It wasn’t you, Matthew.  You didn’t make me feel that way.  I told Dr. Barlow and Dr. Stevenson that.  They’re just trying to help me not see him anymore, and move past the things that he did to me.  And they’re…they’re trying not to make me feel guilty about something so simple like kissing.”
“You felt guilty about us kissing?” he asked.
“Women couldn’t date, right?  So it wasn’t like I was kissing any of the other boys in the cult. We were harlots and sinners if we kissed men, and we were responsible for them straying away from God.  My first kiss was on my fake wedding day.”
Matthew could kill them all.  He had half the heart to jump into his car and drive to Sheerness so that he could.  “I will give you as many kisses as you want if it helps you forget,” he blurted out.
Effie couldn’t help but smile.  “Can we start again now?  Slowly?”
Matthew smiled slightly.  She craned her head up and placed one of her signature chaste kisses on his lips, and he reciprocated readily, the feeling of her lips on his after months of not having them there ranking up there with the best feeling in the world.  When she pulled away, her eyes were still closed, but there was a smile on her face.  Her prior tears had stained her cheeks.  “Hugging you feels nice too,” Effie said, finally opening her eyes.  
Matthew smiled.  “Well then we’ll start doing a lot of that too.”
***
At the beginning of every hockey season, right before training camp, the Calgary Flames hosted a gala to benefit the Calgary Flames Foundation.  The team would set a fundraising goal for the night – often surpassed – and then set one for the season – also surpassed – to give back to the city and community that supported them endlessly, through thick and thin.  The gala was unofficially the kickoff to the season.  Every member of the team, coaching staff, and head office attended.  It was one of Calgary’s biggest events.  It was the one night of the year Matthew didn’t mind being out and having to small-talk with hundreds of strangers, because he knew it was all for a good cause and a greater good.  
Matthew was forced to wear a tuxedo.  All the members of the team were forced to wear tuxedos.  He kept fiddling with his bowtie and Mark kept slapping his hand away.  Matthew thought they all looked like penguins.  He searched around the gala room, already filling up with people.  He took his phone out of his pocket.
You guys here yet? he texted Geneviève, knowing that since Elias and Jacob were already here, she and Annica were coming together.  
We’re in a taxi.  Eyeliner needed to be reapplied because Effie kept crying.
Matthew chuckled to himself, picturing the image of Effie sitting in a chair while Annica and Geneviève fussed over her makeup.  Before he could text her back, another text from her came through.
She looks beautiful, by the way.
Matthew was impatient.  He kept looking towards the doors even though he was supposed to be pretending to be interested in what these rich people had to say.  Levi and Jenna were already there, too, so it really was just him waiting for Effie to arrive.  This entire night didn’t start until Effie arrived.  
Matthew was in a conversation with someone when he saw her walk through the doors.  Annica was wearing a navy blue bodycon dress that showed off her curves, and she looked great.  Geneviève was wearing an emerald green midi-length dress with a high slit, high collar, back cut-out, and cap sleeves, and she looked impeccably chic and stylish, like only Geneviève could.  
But it was Effie, of course, who looked the best.  A bright red dress that fell to her knees, with floral lace and sequins and cape sleeves that covered her otherwise bare arms.  She wore a pair of low nude heels, and her blonde bob was styled professionally as a barely-there curl.  She looked impeccable.  Beautiful.  Stunning.  Gorgeous.  Divine.  Exquisite.  
“Excuse me,” he said quickly to the man and wife he was talking to, and left Elias alone with them as he made his way through the crowd and towards Effie, Annica, and Geneviève.  He pushed past some people gently before finally appearing in front of them.  He could see Geneviève smirking the second they saw him, but he locked eyes with Effie.  When she saw him in his tux, her breath hitched in her throat.  He looked good.  “Hi,” he said to Effie breathlessly.
Annica saw the look in his eyes and knew she had to skedaddle out of there.  “Where’s Elias?”
“Over there,” Matthew pointed behind him, somewhere in the crowd of four hundred people, as if that answered the question and helped her.
“Thanks,” she left, winking at him as she passed him.
Geneviève was next.  “I guess my husband is in the same place?” she asked him.
“Mhm,” he nodded his head quickly.
“Great.  You two behave.  If I don’t see you, I’ll assume you’re in a broom closet,” she said before disappearing into the crowd of people.
Matthew and Effie hadn’t taken their eyes off each other.  Effie thought he looked great in his tux; it was tailored to perfection, and really showed off how thick his body was, but in a good way.  She’d felt it when they hugged when he showed up to her place after landing in Calgary, and if she was being honest with herself, she had been thinking about it ever since.  She kept thinking about being physical with him, about touching him and hugging and cuddling and doing all the things she couldn’t have done with another man before.  And she only wanted to do them with Matthew.  Her mind – and now increasingly her body – wanted to do that only with Matthew.  With the dress and the makeup and the whole look all together, Matthew was a man possessed.  With Geneviève and Annica gone, Matthew couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip to suppress himself from smiling bashfully, like he usually did with Effie.  “You look beautiful, Effie,” he said softly.
“Thanks,” she smiled.  “This is the second dress I’ve ever worn that has shown off my legs.  It’s Geneviève’s.  And – if you can believe it – this is the first time I’ve word something red.”
He couldn’t take it anymore.  From her hair to her makeup to her dress to her shoes, he just couldn’t fucking take it anymore.  He looked around the room quickly before grabbing her hand.  “Come with me,” he mumbled.
“Where are we going?”
He dragged her out of the room and into the foyer.  There were more people out there, sipping on cocktails and eating hors d’oeuvres and getting checked in, so he kept walking with her behind him down the long foyer that connected all the different hall rooms in the complex together.  When it got quieter, and the rush of people were too far away, he led her into a short corridor where a men’s and women’s washroom was.  They were far enough away that he knew no-one from the gala would find them.
“Matthew?  Is everything okay?” she asked as she watched him close the door behind them.
“Everything’s fine,” he said, his voice strained.  “I just…God, Effie, you look so fucking beautiful.”
Effie could pick up on the strain in his voice.  She could also see the fire in his eyes as he looked down at her.  She didn’t know much about the world, and she knew even less about men, but those things alone were telling her something.  Her body was telling her something too, something she’d never heard from it before.  Instead of being repulsed by the body in front of her, she was drawn to it.  Instead of being scared to touch it, she wanted to feel it all over her.  Instead of allowing her mind to take her somewhere else so she didn’t have to focus on pain on hurt or anything else, she wanted to be in the moment and feel everything.  “Kiss me, Matthew,” she said.  She’d never been so bold in her entire life.  She didn’t think she had it in her.
Matthew didn’t need to be told twice.  He held her face between his hands, dipped his head, and began kissing her passionately.  Effie loved it.  It wasn’t a chaste kiss like the kisses they had shared in the past.  This kiss was hungry, and told her almost everything she needed to know about Matthew’s feelings.
Her feelings were similar.  She wanted to explore them.  She wanted to do more.  
That was why, when it was Effie who slid her tongue along Matthew’s lips, he stopped in shock.  Not that he wanted to – the action was just surprising.  He pulled away slightly, making sure it was something she wanted to do.  When he saw her open her eyes slowly, she was bringing her hands up, placing them over his.  “You can touch me, Matthew,” her voice was barely above a whisper.
He let out a shaky breath.  He knew they weren’t exactly gonna hook up in the bathroom or anything, but this was still huge, especially for Effie.  “Are you sure?” he asked.
She nodded her head.  “You won’t hurt me.”
He dipped down and kissed her again.  And he kept kissing her, letting his hands wander to her waist and hips, where he gripped them and pulled them closer to his body.  And she kept kissing him, letting her hands wander down his chest and under his tuxedo jacket to his back, feeling the thickness of his body.  And for at least a few minutes, they were in their own little world, kissing in the men’s bathroom of a banquet hall, hands all over each other as Matthew probably got lipstick all over his mouth.  
Effie was loving it.  The feeling of his soft lips on hers was unlike anything she’d ever felt, and his tongue in her mouth, tasting slightly of the alcohol he’d drunk before she got there, was intoxicating to say the least.  She felt like it could go on forever.  She was pretty sure she would let it go on forever if she could.  She was happy, so happy that she was doing this – that she could do this.  Two years ago, if she’d even thought about it, she would have been scared of being damned to hell for eternity.  Now, she was enjoying it.  Now, she wanted to do it all the time.  Now, she could—
She could—
She—
Now, it hurt a little.
Now, the lips weren’t as soft.
Now, she could feel a prickly, unkept beard scraping at her skin—
“STOP,” she instinctively pushed the body away, scrunching her face and gulping hard.  Before she could see Abraham’s face – before it could appear to her in her mind – she opened her eyes and looked at Matthew.
Matthew.
Matthew.
She saw him staring back at her worriedly and she let out a shaky breath.  He knew why she stopped; he didn’t need to be told.  “I’m—I’m so—”
“Hey hey, it’s okay,” he said soothingly.  “It’s alright, Effie.  We can stop.”
She diverted her eyes from looking at him.  She was so embarrassed.  “You won’t be mad?” she asked.  That was usually how it went for, well…
Matthew put his hand under her chin so he could look her in the eye.  “No,” he said, with as much conviction as he could muster.  “We can stop whenever you want.”
“I’m so—”
“Do not apologize to me,” he said sternly.  She didn’t need to.  He needed her to know that.  “Never apologize to me for that.”
She bit her bottom lip.  “Thank you for stopping.”
“There’s no way in hell I’d keep going.”
Effie nodded.  She understood.  “At least I’m getting better,” she said.  “I didn’t give you a black eye this time.”
Matthew couldn’t help but snort.  It released all the tension in the air immediately; even Effie was giggling slightly.  “That you did not,” he said, grabbing her hand slightly.  “Wanna go back out there?  Well, after we get all this lipstick off of me.”
***
The gala was nice.  It was formal and the food was decent and even though Matthew basically kept his eye on Effie sitting with Levi and Jenna the entire night, it was nice.  He had fun with his teammates.  He embarrassed himself on stage for charity.  At the silent auction, one of his packages with signed memorabilia went for the second-highest bid.  He was proud of what he and the team were able to accomplish in terms of giving back to the community.
But now he had more important things on his mind.  
By the time he found Effie again, she was standing in a group with Levi and Jenna, Jacob and Geneviève, and Annica and Elias.  It looked like they were chatting about something exciting, so Matthew knew he needed to be there.  When Geneviève saw him butt his way in, she smiled.  “I was just reminiscing about when Jacob and I met, and how my friends and I went to the pubs in Oxford after our graduation in our robes and Tudor bonnets,” she said, filling him in.  “There’s nothing better than showing up to a place severely overdressed and then having the time of your life dancing.”
Matthew looked at Geneviève in her dress.  He looked at Annica in hers, and Effie in hers, and Jenna in hers.  He looked to his teammates in his tuxedos, and to Levi wearing a form-fitted navy suit.  “Wanna go dancing?”
Elias smirked.  “The night’s still young.”
***
They ended up at a bar downtown, one that Matthew had been to before but couldn’t really remember exactly what happened (it was his first year in Calgary and he’d just found out hours before that the legal drinking age was only eighteen).  The bouncer looked at them all weirdly in their getups but let them in anyway.  It was only when they entered that they realized it was frosh week for the University of Calgary, and the bar was full of university students drinking and dancing.  The floor was slightly sticky.  It was the perfect venue for the goal they wanted to achieve.
“Oh, this takes me back,” Geneviève giggled, looking out at the sea of people.  She looked at Annica and Jenna.  “Spicy margs?”
Both women nodded.  “Spicy margs.”
She looked at Effie.  “Have you ever had alcohol?”
“No.”
“Do you want to try it while you’re safe with us?”
Effie nodded.  
Geneviève, Effie, and Matthew headed to the bar while the rest of the group went to find a bar table to take over.  Matthew made sure Effie got a spot right at the front as he stood directly behind her, his body pressed against hers.  Geneviève waved down the bartenders and ordered all the drinks.  All the university students clamouring to get a spot at the bar and the attention of the bartenders looked at them weird for their too-fancy clothes.  Geneviève didn’t care – it wasn’t like this was her first time doing this.  Effie was a little self-conscious, but that soon went away when she saw the drinks being made in front of her.
“Whenever you go out to a bar like this, you always want the bartender to make your drink in front of you.  Don’t ever accept a drink from a stranger or if you haven’t seen it made in front of you,” Geneviève cautioned her.  
“Okay,” Effie nodded.  “What happens if I don’t like the spicy margarita though?”
“Then we’ll get you another drink.”
Once all the drinks were made, they were brought back to the bar table the rest of the group managed to find and everyone began drinking.  Effie liked her spicy margarita.  Matthew let her take a sip of his beer but she didn’t like that too much.  She ordered another spicy margarita.  Her body began to feel tingly because of the tequila.  The music started to get progressively louder, too, the bass making the floor vibrate.  Effie looked out onto the dance floor to see a bunch of people her age dancing – grinding, as Matthew called it at Andrew’s birthday many months ago.  She watched them intently, while they were having the time of their lives.  
“You okay?” Matthew asked, bending down to ask as she was looking out at the crowd.  
“I want to dance but I don’t know how to,” she revealed.  “I’m just…looking to see what everyone else is doing.  I wouldn’t be comfortable with that grinding.”
Matthew couldn’t help but smile.  “Nobody knows how to dance, Effie.  We all just move our bodies to the beat of the music.”
The song changed suddenly and it made Geneviève scream at the top of her lungs in excitement.  Effie watched as she grabbed her drink and Jacob’s hand and dragged him towards the dance floor as they began to dance together.  Levi and Jenna followed, and so did Annica and Elias.  The couples weren’t grinding like the university students, but instead danced facing each other, holding hands or swaying back and forth, holding their drinks it their hands and raising them up in the air, miraculously not spilling a thing.  She and Matthew were the only ones left at the bar table.  “This was their wedding song, I think,” Matthew explained, watching Effie watch Jacob and Geneviève dancing.
“What’s it called?”
“I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston.”
“Levi hasn’t introduced me to that one.”
“Levi isn’t the type to listen to Whitney Houston.”
Effie continued to watch them dance, Geneviève singing the lyrics to Jacob at the top of her lungs.  They were so in love with each other, even she could see it, and she barely knew what healthy love was.  A part of her wondered what made them love each other so much, and another part of her wondered if she should ask.  Was it rude to ask something like that?
“D’you want to dance, Effie?” Matthew asked.
Effie looked up at him.  “Do you think people will laugh at me because I don’t know how?”
He shook his head.  “There’s so many people and they’re all so drunk, they won’t even notice you.”
She gripped her margarita tighter.  There was something to be said about overcoming fears ever since she left the cult, and this could be classified as one of them.  But she wasn’t like these university students who were moving their bodies so freely and easily.  She was much more restrained – with everything really – but she wanted to actively work to move away from that.  Conquer her fears.  Do what she needed to do to shed herself from the past.  So she nodded her head.  “Let’s go.”
Matthew grabbed her hand and led her on to the dance floor, moving his body to the song with his beer still in his hand, doing his best not to spill it everywhere, but especially not on Effie wearing Geneviève’s expensive red dress.  Effie watched, moving her feet back and forth awkwardly.  She looked up at Matthew for reassurance, only to see him already smiling at her.  “You got it, you got it,” he said, moving his feet in a similar way.  
“What do I do with my hands?” she asked.
“Just throw ‘em up!” he showed her.  She did the same movements, but she couldn’t step or move with the beat of the music.  Matthew could tell she was nervous.  “Just move your body, Effie.  Move it however you want.  Doesn’t need to be on beat.”
Effie closed her eyes, trying to get the feel of the song in her, but she lost her groove because it soon ended and another began.  This one was even more upbeat – well, it had a better beat – and Effie began to move again.  
Feel buried alive This city is airtight Suffocated and lonely in the crowd I'm surrounded by All the screens of their life Screaming in to space to drown them out
Effie not only began to move her feet and hands, but she tried swaying her hips a bit.  She liked this beat.  She loved this beat.  She lost herself completely in it, dancing with no inhibitions.  Matthew watched as she let loose, moving her body in tune with the music.  Her dancing was unlike anyone else’s around her, and the only thing he wanted to was copy her.  It looked a bit ridiculous, but it didn’t matter to Matthew.  He’d made himself look more ridiculous than this before.  This was nothing.
I felt down so low Found nowhere to go But I know you wait for me You wait for me So far out of sight Straight into the white But I know you wait for me I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight
Effie opened her eyes to see Matthew.  Matthew, who would wait for her.  Matthew, who had waited for her.  
'Cause I've been hypnotized by the lights But I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight Yeah, it's taken time to realize But I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight
“Go Effie!  Go Effie!” Annica chanted, coming up beside them with Elias, grooving to the beat of the music.  Annica watched Effie moving and followed her movements too – albeit more fluidly – and when Effie looked up and saw Annica, a giant smile took over her face.  Annica screamed in excitement and cheered their drinks together before moving with her, beside Matthew, letting him get closest to her.
So hold me tight I just wanna fade out Somewhere we can ship the world away I'm ready to hide Far from the fallout They won't find us in the paradise we'll make
“Woooooooo!  You go girl!  Get loose!” Geneviève screamed from her other side, approaching them with Jacob beside her who was doing a modified version of the robot.  Matthew watched as Effie closed her eyes, going into her own little world, raising her arms and bopping her body to the music.  It was the happiest and most carefree he’d ever seen her.  He vowed right then and there to take her dancing whenever she wanted to go so she could feel this same way.
I felt down so low Found nowhere to go But I know you wait for me You wait for me So far out of sight Straight into the white But I know you wait for me I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight
Effie was feeling it.  She loved it.  She loved this.  She loved the people she was surrounded by.  If this was love, she wanted to feel it all the time.
'Cause I've been hypnotized by the lights But I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight Yeah, it's taken time to realize But I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight
When she opened her eyes again, she saw everyone dancing around her.  She stepped closer to Matthew, almost so close that she could feel his body against hers.  They moved together to the climax of the song, Matthew looking down at her and smiling.
Free falling from the high I'm following the voice I know Free falling from the high I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight
In his tuxedo and in her frilly red dress with cape sleeves, surrounded by people. it felt like they were the only ones in the world.
'Cause I've been hypnotized by the lights But I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight Yeah, it's taken time to realize But I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight I'm coming home I'm coming back down tonight
***
“I think I can live a normal life with him,” Effie told Dr. Barlow as she sat in her usual seat in the office, looking down at her hands.  She’d already been talking for almost an hour during her session, but she felt the need to get that statement out.  Dr. Barlow had the right to know.
“With Matthew?” Dr. Barlow clarified.
Effie nodded her head.  Who else would she be talking about?  “He’s never once made me feel uncomfortable or unsafe or…like…ashamed of what I went through,” she elaborated.  
“That’s a very positive thing,” Dr. Barlow said, her voice steady.  “It’s good that you’re thinking about these things, Effie.  You’re thinking about your future.  You actually see a future for yourself.  But how normal do you think a friendship or perhaps even a life with a hockey player can be?” she asked.
Effie shrugged her shoulders.  “I don’t know.  I barely understand hockey as it is.”
“Well, hockey players don’t exactly live the most conventional of lifestyles.  They travel a lot, as I’m sure you know since Levi travels with the team.”
“Yeah…” Effie didn’t know where Dr. Barlow was going with this.  “That’s…that’s not the biggest deal to me.”
Dr. Barlow nodded her head, writing something down on her pad of paper.  “Have you continued to kiss him since he’s come back?”  Effie nodded.  “Regularly?”
“Semi-regularly.”
“Have you told Dr. Stevenson?” she asked.  Effie nodded again.  “Do you still envision Abraham sometimes?”
Effie hesitated before nodding her head.  She knew she couldn’t lie.  “It’s been getting better though.  We kissed for a couple of minutes once before I, um, felt Abraham’s beard.  And when he stopped, he didn’t get mad at all.  I means it’s progress from when he brushed up against me in bed and I gave him a black eye,” she tried to joke.
Dr. Barlow apparently didn’t find it funny like Matthew had.  She just nodded again and wrote on her note pad.  “You should tell Dr. Stevenson about that.”
***
“I made another pint of maple pecan ice cream,” Effie told Levi as she handed him a Tupperware full of white chocolate macadamia nut cookies.  They were mostly for Jenna – she was craving them.  Jenna had been craving a lot of things lately, ever since Effie got her own mixer, anyway.  Effie had been experimenting making ice cream.  The café was pleased about this as well.  The owner was already looking to invest in ice cream storage to be able to serve it.  “I’ve found a real gem in you, Effie,” the owner would repeat over and over again to her.  Matthew had to stop himself constantly from getting a third bowl on nights he’d come over.  He’d tap at his stomach and say “I can’t” but when he’d go and put his bowl in the sink, she’d always see him hesitate before he did so.  “Do you want it?”
“Please,” he begged his sister.  She moved to open her freezer.  “I swear Effie, the best thing Matthew’s ever done was get you that KitchenAid.  I’ve been gaining weight ever since.”
Effie smiled.  “At least you’re not the hockey player that has to stay in peak physical condition.  Matthew’s been complaining that I’m making him pudgy.”
“Thank God.”
“Speaking of…” she began, handing him the pint of ice cream.  “Do you think you can teach me about hockey?”
“You mean like the rules and stuff?”
“Yeah.  You know, like what’s going on out there whenever I’m at games.”
“Okay,” he nodded, shrugging his shoulder slightly.  “Any reason?”
“If I’m going to be surrounded by hockey because of you, then I should learn it, shouldn’t I?” Effie asked rhetorically.  
“Sure,” he side-eyed his sister playfully.  “But does this have anything to do with Matthew?”
“What if it does?”
Levi smiled.  He knew there was something going on between the two of them, regardless of whether or not they wanted to tell him.  He liked Matthew, he knew he was a good kid, so it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.  She could have hooked up with someone way worse.  Actually, she could have gone the opposite route of where she currently was (which many former cult members went), which was becoming a hypersexual after being sexually repressed for so many years.  Effie was taking her time with it, and that was fine, but if her friendship…or relationship, or whatever she had going on with Matthew was any indication, Levi figured Effie was thinking about it.  “I don’t care, Effie.  It’s kind of cute, actually.”
“So you’ll teach me?”
“Of course.  I’ll have you screaming at the referees in no time.”
***
“So Levi’s teaching me about hockey,” Effie said as she marinated chicken in her kitchen, her phone call with Matthew on speakerphone as she moved around and got her hands dirty.  
“He is?”
“Mhm.  By the time the home opener comes around, I’ll be able to understand what’s going on,” she revealed.
“I better get you a Tkachuk jersey then.”
Effie smiled bashfully, even though he couldn’t see it.  “You don’t want me wearing a Markstrom one like last time?” she joked.
“Effie.”
***
Effie was nervous as she sat in Dr. Stevenson’s office.  Not because she was scared, or because she wasn’t a good sex therapist, or because of anything like that.  She was nervous to admit to her the thoughts she’d been having about Matthew, even though she knew Dr. Stevenson wouldn’t judge her at all and that it was his job to help her.  Help her make peace with these thoughts; help her realize they were completely normal and okay; help her act on them, eventually, in a healthy way.  Dr. Stevenson already knew about Matthew – she knew about him from Effie’s very first day.  
“My mind may not be ready but my body is physically attracted to him. I don’t know how to…you know, mend the two so that both are on the same page,” Effie admitted after almost an hour.  “I want to be with him.  I do.  I know he won’t hurt me – that he’d never hurt me.”
Dr. Stevenson nodded.  “When you were in the People’s Dominion of Christ, there was a huge power imbalance between Abraham, being the prophet and leader, and the followers – you,” Dr. Stevenson began to explain.  “This imbalance made it impossible for you to give true consent to sex.”
Effie’s body stiffened.  Consent.  Geneviève had taught her that term early on.  Consent was giving permission for something to happen.  Effie had never given her consent to marry Abraham.  She’d never given Abraham consent to consummate their marriage.  She’d never given Abraham consent to touch her, stroke her, do anything to her.  She’d surely never given him consent to impregnate her.  “Okay…that makes sense.  But I didn’t know I had to give consent.  I thought that men could do whatever they wanted with my body.  Especially Abraham, since he was the prophet.”
“The institutionalized sexism in the cult is nothing I haven’t heard before.  Many victims like yourself have said the exact same thing to me,” Dr. Stevenson said.  “You are not alone.  There are many people like you, unfortunately.  When females are not equally valued because of misogyny, because of outdated traditional gender roles that are disempowering, it makes women like you experience sexual inequality and become more susceptible to leaders who will exploit you.”
“So how do I get it back?”
“Get what back?”
“My agency.  My…my…” Effie began to tear up, thinking about all the things she had to endure at the hands of Abraham – literally and metaphorically.  “How do I get my mind back?  My body is finally mine, and I can do what I want with it, but I don’t feel like I have my mind back yet if I’m kissing Matthew but then all of a sudden I remember the feeling of Abraham’s beard or that I can’t sit or lie at the foot of a bed because that’s where…”
Dr. Stevenson took a deep breath.  “One way to do so is to embrace, appreciate, and celebrate your sexual self.  That is what I am trying to help you do here.  You need to understand that your capacity for pleasure is not a luxury, and it is not shameful either.  It is a necessity for a well-balanced and emotionally happy life.  As a woman – as a survivor of sexual abuse, of rape – you should take a stand for your own sexual healing and embrace sexual pleasure as something that will help heal you.”
Effie nodded her head, more tears escaping her now, but she understood.  She knew what she needed to do, and the mental shift she needed to go through.  Touching could be pleasurable for the woman.  Sex could be pleasurable for the woman. Not everything had to hurt.  Not everything had to come with pain.  
“I’m not saying this is going to happen tomorrow for you, Effie,” Dr. Stevenson continued.  “I’m not saying it’ll happen next month, or year.  It happens quickly for some, and for others it can take years.  Everybody has their own timeline – you included.  You have to remember that your trauma comes with complex PTSD.  If you set goals for yourself, like you already have been doing, with a person you are comfortable with – Matthew – your sexual self will grow with your physical self and your mental self.  When those three parts of you are aligned, they will all grow stronger, and make you stronger.”
Effie kept nodding.  The words were permeating through her like lightning.  “I’m going to try.  I’m really going to try.”
“Just stop when you need to stop.  Go when you want to go.  You’ll get there, Effie.”
***
“Did you learn about gay people in the cult?” Matthew asked as he prepared Brokeback Mountain on the TV while Effie finished pouring the popcorn into the bowl.  
“Not in a good way, if that’s what you’re really asking,” she said from the kitchen.  “You know the stupid Bible verse.  The prophet called it an abomination.  But it was one of the first things that Levi and Jenna taught out of me when I first went to live with them, because Jenna’s brother is gay and has a husband and two kids.  Levi didn’t want me to be shocked if I ever saw them.”
Matthew didn’t know that about Jenna.  But he nodded his head and watched Effie bring the bowl of popcorn over.  “Have you met them?”
Effie nodded.  “They came over a few months after I arrived.  They were so incredibly kind,” she explained.  She handed the popcorn bowl to Matthew to take before folding her leg and collapsing onto the couch beside him, facing him.  “It really…it really messed with me.  I mean, it’s not like I wanted to think that way.  It was what I was conditioned to think.  I didn’t know better.  And I felt so bad, because I knew they knew, but they were so understanding.  From the moment they walked through the door they were so nice and they didn’t hold it against me,” she explained.  
Matthew could only listen.  And though he listened through her entire explanation, he was hung up on one thing.  “You should stop calling him the prophet,” he said suddenly, not really thinking it through but needing to get it out.  “He wasn’t a prophet.  He wasn’t even your husband.  He was just some guy.”
Effie looked stunned by what he was saying.  She’d never considered that before.  She was so used to calling him the prophet that the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind – ever.  “You’re right,” she said, unable to say anything else.  It was such a simple sentiment but it held so much power.  “I…you’re right, Matthew.”
He smiled slightly.  “Wanna start the movie?”
Effie nodded.  Matthew extended his arm to move the bowl to the side, and his other arm moved upwards slightly, signalling to Effie that it was already to cuddle.  She moved closer to him, snuggling into his side and letting both legs drape over his thigh.  Only then did he let his arm down, draping it over her back.  Effie looked up at him.  “Is that okay?” she asked.
“It’s perfect,” he whispered, placing the bowl of popcorn between their bodies so they had equal access to it.  “You comfortable?”
“Mhm.”
“Effie, are you comfortable?” he repeated.
She knew why he was repeating himself.  She looked up at him and smiled.  “The comfiest I’ve ever been.”
Matthew pressed play.  From that moment, Effie’s eyes were glued to the screen, hooked on the love story unfolding in front of her.  For Matthew, he was more hooked on watching her than the movie, but he kept up slightly.  At some point during the movie – Matthew didn’t pay attention when – Effie’s hand settled on his abs, and it was all he could think about for the rest of the night.  He was acutely aware of its placement.  Then, the sadder scenes started happening, and he’d feel the hand grip his t-shirt, and his body would seize up.  She’d soften it, but then grip again when something emotional would happen.  Then the scene where Ennis visits Jack’s parents after his death occurred, and Ennis was let into Jack’s childhood bedroom and found his old shirt.  Matthew watched as Ennis smelled it and clutched it against his chest.
Then he heard Effie let out a sob.  
She gripped him tighter than she ever had.  He tightened his hold on her too, shifting slightly and letting his shirt ride up against the couch, just so she could cuddle into him even more than she already was.  He could feel her hand on his skin now, gripping at his side tenderly as the tears still rolled down her face.  He took the opportunity to place his hand in the small sliver of space where her shirt had ridden up too, squeezing and massaging it gently to comfort her.  “Y’okay?” his voice was barely above a whisper.
She didn’t respond.  Her eyes were glued to the TV.  As the movie continued, Matthew left his hand exactly where it was, and Effie left her hand exactly where it was.  Holding each other.  Clutching each other.  
When the movie ended, Effie didn’t move for a long time.  Not even when the credits began rolling on the screen.  “Are you okay, Effie?” Matthew repeated his question from earlier, albeit a bit louder and more pronounced this time.
“I think my heart is broken,” she finally let out, bringing the hand that was squeezing his side to her face so she could wipe her tears away.  “That was beautiful.  Beautiful.”
“It was,” Matthew agreed.  It was very obvious the movie was affecting her a lot.
Effie moved so she could look up at Matthew, craning her head and bringing her hand up to cradle his face so she could kiss him.  When their lips connected, Matthew could feel the wetness of her cheeks.  “I can’t believe I was ever scared of that,” she whispered against his lips when she pulled away.
“Doesn’t matter.  What matters is what you think now.”
Effie nodded.  He always knew the right things to say.  He was helping her change her past and way of thinking one way or another.  “I think I want to kiss you again.”
Matthew kissed her.  And even as the credits finished, neither of them would let go of the other.
***
The Calgary Flames home opener at the Saddledome had Effie buzzing with excitement.  She wore a brand new pair of jeans for the occasion, and arrived at the game with Jenna, Annica, and Geneviève.  As was normal for them, Annica was wearing her tried and true Lindholm jersey, while Geneviève was sporting a Markstrom one.  Jenna wore Levi’s old Iginla jersey.  
Effie had Tkachuk sprawled across her back.  
“Do you want to go down near the ice and wave?” Annica asked, and Effie nodded her head.  “It might get a big crowded, so stay near me.”
The ladies descended down the steps, joining the pretty big crowd that had formed against the glass beside Jacob’s net.  A bunch of kids were up against the glass with homemade signs, their parents near them taking pictures.  Some men around Effie’s age were there too, drinking beers with their jerseys on and taking videos on their phones.  Other girls her age were there too, taking pictures of all the players.  “Can you see Matthew?” Geneviève asked as she looked down at Effie.
“He’s over there,” she smiled, pointing at Matthew across the ice.  He was practicing his stickhandling, in such deep concentration that he didn’t look up for a while.  When he finally did look up, happy with his stickhandling, he began skating around the ice, bumping into Noah and Andrew along the way.  
Effie waved excitedly.
Matthew stopped when he saw her.  Even though there was glass streaked with puck shots and some distance between them, she could see him smile from ear to ear, his mouth guard hanging out.  He waved back, his hockey glove looking like a giant bear claw.
“God you two are insufferable,” Geneviève said jokingly.
Matthew continued to skate around, shooting the puck at the net, each of them going in.  Geneviève noticed all of his glances back at them, and the small smile constantly on his face as he went about his drills.  When the practice was almost over, she kept an eye intently on him, watching as he skated over.  She knew what he wanted to go.  “Go closer,” she said to Effie, urging her with a little nudge.  
Effie took her cue and stepped down, closer to the glass.  Matthew had flipped a puck over the glass towards a kid with a sign for him.  Now, as Effie watched, he pointed to her and made sure everyone around knew who he was pointing to.  She turned around slightly, pointing to his name on her back.  He smiled wide and flipped another puck, perfectly, right into her hands.  
Geneviève watched as the young women around them eyed Effie suspiciously.
***
“Matthew!” Effie squealed once he finally emerged from the locker room, his suit back on and his tie tied loosely around his neck.  She hugged him excitedly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he reciprocated.  “Great game!”
“Thanks, Effie.”
“And your goal!” she continued.  Now that she actually understood hockey, and now that she wasn’t scared about every little thing around her at the arena, she could actually enjoy the experience and know what was going on.  “What a great goal!”
He had the puck in his pocket, and had planned to give it to her, but right now his mind was elsewhere.  Seeing her in his jersey at the beginning of the game did things to him, and although he was able to focus throughout the sixty minutes, now that he saw her again with his name sprawled across her back, his mind was right where it was the moment he first saw her that night.  “Wanna come over mine and watch a movie?” he asked, his voice low so no-one else would hear.
To his complete surprise, Effie nodded her head immediately.  “Of course.”
They left inconspicuously without saying goodbye to anyone.
***
Effie broke down during the first scene.
Matthew had changed out of his suit and into a sweater and track pants, and Effie had taken off the jersey and hung it up in his front closet.  They cuddled on the couch together, exactly as they’d done when they watched Brokeback Mountain, and Matthew pressed play on Netflix.  The first scene was the main character, Esty, packing up her most valuable belongings, including a small picture of her grandmother, and running away from her Hasidic community.  All before the opening credits.  When the show’s opening played, he heard Effie let out a loud sob.
“Hey hey hey,” he cooed, watching as she brought her hand up to cover her mouth to try and control herself, but there was no use.  Tears were streaming down her face.  “It’s alright, it’s alright.”
“It’s me,” she said softly, through tears.  “It’s me.”
“C’mere,” he said, pulling her even closer against his body, if that was possible.  Every inch of her was touching him now, with his arms wrapped tightly around her, and he hoped that brought her at least some reprieve.  She was wiping her face with her hands, and he could see her chest heaving, though he could tell she was taking deep breaths to calm herself down.  Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.  “We can stop it or watch so—”
“No,” she interjected sternly, looking up at him.  “I can do this.”
“I know you can Effie, but—”
“No buts.  I can watch this,” she was adamant.  
Matthew lost.  He knew he would.  He bit his bottom lip and nodded his head.  “Will you promise to tell me if it becomes too much?”
Effie nodded.  She snuck her hand underneath his sweater to feel his skin again, and she – surprisingly – game him a quick peck before laying her head on his chest again.  “Press play.”
Matthew kissed her forehead, then the crown of her head, then laid his cheek there before pressing play.  
Effie broke down again less than ten minutes later, when the grandmother was listening to an old German song, An Die Musik sung by Elisabeth Scwartzkopf.  And again, when Yanky was searching her childhood bedroom and found her personal items and her music.  The last scene she cried to was near the end, when Esty’s biological mother showed up and gave her documents to prove German citizenship “just in case you need somewhere else to go”.  When the episode ended, Effie was shedding her last tears.  Matthew paused Netflix before the episode could switch over.  “You okay?”
Effie nodded, despite her tears.  “I know it’s different religions, but a lot of things were just, like, so similar,” she explained.  “The…the beginning brought me back.”
“I can only imagine,” Matthew whispered.
“The grandmother crying listening to that beautiful song.  Esty’s music.  Her mom still looking out for her despite abandoning her.  It all just…it all just really hit home.”  Matthew nodded.  It was the only thing he could do.  If Effie wanted to elaborate, she could, but he wasn’t going to force her.  Instead, he shifted her body so she was sitting more in his lap as opposed to right beside him.  She steadied her breathing, and her tears had stopped.  “When I went to live with the proph—Abraham, as his wife,” she began, “he made me leave everything at home besides my clothes.  I couldn’t see my favourite things unless I was visiting, and even then, I’d never be alone in my room for more than two minutes because he knew I’d be reminiscing, and he said it was a sin to dwell on my past life when I should have been looking forward to my future as his wife and as a mother to his son of God.”  She paused, biting her bottom lip; Matthew could tell she was remembering it all vividly in her mind.  “After a year my mom threw out all my things anyway.  Because she agreed with him.”
“What did you have?  What were your things?” he asked, sad and angry and disturbed all at once.  
“Just simple things.  Nothing special,” she said.  “My…my own Bible that I’d been using since I was a kid.  A journal I had where I recorded my favourite verses.  A doll I had when I was a kid that another member made for me.  Just stupid things.”
“They’re not stupid things if they were special for you,” Matthew said.  “I can’t believe your mom threw them all out.  My mom has kept my kindergarten paintings.”
Effie smiled slightly.  “That’s because you have a good mom who knows how to be a mother.”
Matthew digressed.  Effie obviously hadn’t meant Chantal yet, but Matthew talked about her enough that Effie knew a lot about her.  “I know I keep saying this, but you’re so strong, Effie.”
“It’s a lot to overcome,” she whispered, nodding her head.  They sat for a while in comfortable silence, just being with each other.  Matthew’s arms were still wrapped around her.  Effie was still in hip lap, looking at him.  “Will you kiss me, Matthew?”
Matthew smiled slightly before dipping his head down and capturing her lips in a kiss.  It wasn’t long before – once again – Effie took the initiative to slip her tongue into his mouth.  There was kissing – so much kissing – and Matthew took it upon himself to start to lay Effie down on the couch, his body looming over hers slightly and—
“Stop,” Effie said, her hands on his chest, pushing him off her slightly.  Matthew immediately stopped and moved away from her.  Her chest heaved up and down once before she pushed herself up.  “I’m sorry.”
“Never apologize,” he said.  “Did you see him again?”
Effie didn’t answer.  “I think it happened because we laid down,” she said, her lips puffy from all the kissing.  
Matthew was catching his breath.  He was thankful that he was wearing track pants or else Effie would see how…excited he’d become.  “How about you stay on top then?”
She furrowed her brows.  “What do you mean?”
“We—we can stay upright,” Matthew explained.  “You can sit on my lap if you want…facing me.  Or you could just…you know, like, sit…” he was losing his words.
Effie looked confused.  Nervous.  Like she didn’t know what to think.  Like she was picturing the scenario in her head and couldn’t really make sense of any of it.  “W—Women are allowed to do that?” she asked softly.  Matthew couldn’t speak; he could only stare at her flabbergasted.  He nodded his head slightly, and Effie thought about it.  How women could be ‘on top’.  What that would look like.  What that would entail.  “C…Can you—can you show…” she was too embarrassed to even be asking.  
“C’mere,” he said, extending his hand.  She put her hand in his and he pulled her towards him.  “Put your one leg over here,” he said, patting to the space on the other side of him.  She did so slowly.  “And your other leg goes here,” he explained, and she did the same movement, “and now you can just sit on my lap.”
Effie took a deep breath as she lowered herself down until she could feel his thighs as her seat.  Both she and Matthew had barely blinked the entire time during his simple act of showing her how to straddle him, but she had never done it before (and it wasn’t like she would have been allowed to), and so everything about it was new to her.  Now, she was face-to-face with him, her hands resting on his chest, his hands resting near the bend in her knees.  “This is new,” she said.
“Are you comfy?” he asked.  She nodded.  “D’you like it?” he asked again.
“It’ll take some getting used to,” she admitted.  “But I can see it being nice.”
Being nice.  Matthew couldn’t help but grin.  “It’ll be nice.  Trust me.”
Effie nodded.  She did trust Matthew.  So when she went in to continue their kisses, it was nice, and it was beautiful, and it wasn’t so bad anymore.  Which is why, when Matthew’s hands moved from her knees up her thighs, it was okay.  When his hands squeezed at her flesh through her pants before going higher, it was okay.  When his hands moved to her hips and pulled her even closer, it was okay.
It was okay.
298 notes · View notes
apparentlyaswarmofbees · 4 years ago
Note
Can I request head cannons of the Demon brothers and Undateables with an MC that has a very cute resting face and a beautiful smile? They also have dimples too when they do smile 🥺
Ah dimples, one of the cutests things that can happen in the human body. And I will flex shamelessly: I have dimples and I love the attention people give me because of it and it makes me love my own smile a lot.
I will simplify this request to:
.
MC With Dimples - Featuring All The Boys
.
Lucifer
He dug his own grave by being a prickly peacock which ended up having you frown around him instead of smiling.
So you bet he would either be the last to find out you even had then in the first place or be doomed to only be able to see them from afar, while you were smiling at other people, and he had to do his best to not be seen because if you saw him he knows you would stop smiling.
So honestly, you can't tell me he hasn't experienced the biggest level of serotonym in his system the day he managed to make you smile at him, even better if because of him.
And oh, oh when you smirk.
He's SIMPING.
.
Mammon
I HEADCANON MAMMON WITH DIMPLES AND YOU CAN'T CHANGE MY MIND.
The people he models to are missing the beauty of his smile.
But this is about your dimples, which he actually took notice early on but never found that much interesting other than it just being one more part of you.
You would definetelly have to point it out the same feature on his own face and make a point of saying you liked them for him to actually splurt out that he also liked you- I mean your face- I MEAN YOUR DIMPLES.
Yes selfies of you two smiling, cheeks touching, are now definetelly a thing.
.
Leviathan
Yes first time he saw them he wanted to rip off your cheek muscles and burn them in the deepest parts of hell because who allowed you to have it and be this attractive?!
And yes he actually tells you so while on his fuming rants about how the world is just 'not fair'.
Bring it up much later once you two are close and watch as he dies inside.
He really likes them, he might even develop an habit of poking them when you smile.
Yes you should try biting his finger when he does it, even though he will be screaming if you grab his hand and go for a bite he will actually be having enough fun to try and poke you again.
.
Satan
It will take a bit of a while for him to catch you smiling, mainly because at the start of the exchange program he was actually trying to cause trouble by charming you, and I think it would be hard to fully smile when there is something obviously not quite right with the way he smiles.
He though he was solely intrigued by the presence of dimples on your cheeks but the more he saw them the more he loved them.
How can him, a powerful demon, also be so endeared by what is actually a genetic flaw?
His goal in life is now is to have you smile as much as he can, and he makes sure to tell you so.
.
Asmodeus
He went from 'you're so cute but I am cuter' to 'I am cuter but you are so cute!' really fast. And yes, there is a difference.
Our brains actually focus on the last words of a sentence and it's actually used in media to manipulate news, saying 'he was acomplished but he did mistakes' is different from 'he did mistakes but he was acomplished'.
He always fawns over you and will make sure you smile so much your cheeks will hurt.
Also unless you stop him he will take so many selfies with you it will basically feel like a photoshoot.
Also part of the 'poking you on your dimples' squad.
You may actually catch him editing some pictures of himself with dimples to see if they would look good on him.
.
Beelzebub
ANOTHER BABY I HEADCANON WITH DIMPLES AND I AGAIN WON'T CHANGE MY MIND
Will mention it right away when you smile at him for the first time and will give a smile of his own showing his own dimples.
Honestly he always smiles whenever you smile, but with both of you sharing this one facial trait he smiles wider as if unconsciously showing off his own in response to seeing yours.
You guys are a puppy pair that will be able to kill whoever is around just by smiling.
This is actually really powerful-
.
Belphegor
'Ah, Beel has those too'
+1 affinity point.
For real though, the first time you smiled at him after the whole Lesson 16 ordeal he basically teared up.
Will protect that smile of yours no matter what.
It is said that his smile is rare but he will definetelly be smiling at the sight of yours' and his twin's dimples.
Another one in the 'poke' squad, though sometimes he also pinches your cheeks slightly.
Now whenever he sees someone else with dimples he does not only remember Beel but you too.
.
Solomon
More intrigued by the fact that you are part of a percentage of humanity that has dimples and because it is a irregular dominant trait that though it can be passed through generations it's not obligaroty so he's curious from who you got it from and if you would actually pass it on if you ever have a successor.
And after learning about your blood relations he is now curious if Lilith herself had them.
So yeah he is not exactly endeared by cutenedd but more excitedly intrigued.
And he will poke you too.
Bite him.
.
Simeon
Another one intrigued, he most likelly doesn't know how exactly dimples occur but he knows not all humans have seeing Solomon himself doesn't have them.
Makes him like your smile more, and he will tell you so.
He doesn't poke you but he does develop an habit of carressing your cheek, his thumb running along the exact place where your dimples are located, smiling brightly if his ministrations actually make you smile yourself, allowing what his fingers were searching for to finally feel it.
.
Luke
This kid knows what dimples are but he doesn't know why they happen and that's the first thing he asks you upon seeing them on you.
Definetelly throws a bit of a fit at seeing three demons have dimples too (the third one I won't say here because then I'll spoil my own post lol)
To him demons apparently aren't allowed to share the same facial feature as someone like you.
Surprisingly (and thankfully) he doesn't automatically talk to (human) strangers with a positive judgement just because they have dimples.
.
Diavolo
Here is your third demon I headcanon with dimples and won't change my mind about it.
Immediatelly feels a connection between the two of you because of it.
It is definetelly going to be pretty akward, although endearing, at first seeing you now have the Demon Prince trying to make you smile and telling you how you two share dimples like an excited kid.
He won't poke you unless you are the one to poke him. You should also try to bite him, his reactions are priceless.
And also incredibly adorable-
.
Barbatos
Will never bring it up unless someone points it out with him around or he is flirting with you.
Yes he flirts, and it's intense.
And he doesn't even need to say much, all he would do would be stand relatively close to you, stare you in the eyes while caressing your cheek and in a low voice tell you how 'you should smile more' because 'he is starting to miss seeing your dimples' and proceed to quickly gaze at your lips while saying such before giving a smile a walking away to attent to his duties as a buttler.
This man is dangerous-
727 notes · View notes
golden-pickaxe · 3 years ago
Text
Coffee (Part 5)
Fandom: Vikings
Paring: Ivar x Reader
Type: Modern AU, Office AU
Wordcount: 3619
Warnings: reader drinks wine casually
[Coffee - All Parts Here]
A/N: Here is part 5!
Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius​ @punkrocknpearls @mootiemoose​ @istorkyou @dini73​ @heavenly1927​ @hashimily​ @peakywitch​
Summary: You are a graduate student at the University of Oslo, and have applied for a job as a personal assistant at the Lothbrok Corporation, without really knowing much of the position advertised. When it turns out you are going to work for the (in)famous Ivar Lothbrok, your whole life is turned up-side-down.
Tumblr media
With Ivar just wearing a t-shirt, instead of his usual well-cut suits, you could very clearly see the strong muscles in his arms, as you watched him pushing his wheelchair out of the pedestrian zone, towards the street. You had to swallow at the sight, hating yourself for the effect this man had on you.
 You walked along side him, finally realising what you had done. Just like a year ago, when the coin had dropped that you had really applied at the Lothbrok Corporation, it now dropped that you had just accepted his invitation to come to his home and let him cook for you. Him, one of the most influential businessmen of Norway. With his own fucking Wikipedia site.
Your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest at the thought, and you bit your lower lip, not quite knowing what this whole thing would mean now. And if it would change anything between you. You hoped not, but in the same way, you did hope.
 Getting your private life mixed up with your job probably was not a good idea. On the other hand, this whole situation kind of freaked you out, but in a good way. It was exciting.
 You and Ivar had reached the street, next to the national gallery, where a few minutes later the taxi arrived. Personally, you would never get a taxi in Oslo, as it was just insanely expensive, but with a lot of public transport, such as the tram you had taken to get here, not entirely being accessible to someone in a wheelchair, you could understand why Ivar had called it.
 Ivar maneuverered himself into one of the back seats, while the driver put his chair into the trunk of the car. You felt Ivar’s blue eyes watching you, as you rounded the vehicle to get into at the other side.
Even though he always successfully overplayed it, you saw that he was a bit self-conscious about his legs, often cursing them underneath his breath when they once again got into his way. He could move them a little bit, and also seemed to have some feeling in them, was even able to stand up for a few moments, if he could support himself with his arms. But in general, they did not really seem to be working.
In the office, Ivar hated to use his wheelchair, often just dragging himself from his desk to his sofa, his immense upper body strength enabling him to pull himself up with not much of an issue.
 Now, sitting next to you in the taxi on the way to his apartment, he readjusted his legs a bit with tight lips, appearing a bit nervous once more. You still could not quite wrap your head around what was happening right now, it all felt a bit like a dream to you. Just so, you managed to resist the urge to pinch yourself.
 Your boss, your grumpy boss, the infamous Ivar Lothbrok had just casually invited you to go out for coffee with him, had questioned you about almost every aspect of your life, paid for your drink, and now took you to his home to cook for you. It almost sounded like a very bad rom-com, like a romance story some bored, lonely woman would think up. Not that you expected it to end that way, of course. Even if you honestly wished it would.
 Until now, even if you sometimes chatted on business trips, your relationship had been purely professional, and you had only been over to his flat once, when you had brought him a set of suits to his home, when there had been issues with his dry cleaner. It had not really surprised you, finding out that he also lived in Majorstuen, actually not very far from you, although it had been a stress factor for you. Of course, he did not live in one of the old buildings, like you did, with paper thin walls, no elevator and wonky doors, no. He lived on the top floor of one of those new, fancy apartment buildings, costing a few ten-million krona, overlooking Frognerparken.
 When you had brought the suits up to his apartment, you had also met a famous Norwegian actor in the lift, so it was clear what kind of people occupied the other flats of the building. You had never been inside his home, had only delivered his suits to his door, but even the entrance and the lift had been very fancy and expensive looking. Admittedly, you had taken a stupid selfie in the mirror of the lift and posted it to Instagram.
 As Aker Brygge was, as stated, not far from Majorstuen, the drive was quite short, and the few minutes of silence were only broken by far too relaxing music coming out of the car radio. The taxi stopped in front of the apartment building Ivar lived in, and he paid the driver, while you got out, retrieving Ivar’s wheelchair from the trunk. You set it up and positioned it next to the car, for him to climb into.
 Ivar clenched his jaw a bit, obviously annoyed at something, even though you were not quite sure what exactly it was that he was annoyed by now, only hoping that it was not you. Well, at least you would have not far home now.
Ivar climbed out of the car, moving himself over to sit in his chair, before unlocking the breaks and rolling towards the door of the building, while the taxi behind you departed.
 Just as you remembered, the entry hall of the apartment complex was very posh, and you were reminded that this was a completely different world from yours. A different world from your shitty apartment, where you could hear almost every conversation your neighbours were having, and where you had push your full body against the bathroom door to get it to close properly.
 Following Ivar to the lift, the two of you got in, and Ivar pressed the button of the top floor. As soon as the doors had closed, Ivar’s eyes were on you, mustering you intently. His gaze was a tad intimidating, you had to admit, once again looking like a predator looking at his prey. Still, you managed to look back with a smile.
 “Are there any things you don’t eat, before I work my magic?” he asked, a smirk on his handsome face. You had to laugh at his choice of words, but told him about any dietary restrictions or things you didn’t like, and Ivar nodded.
 “Alright. I think I know what to make, then.” He leaned back in his chair a bit, biting how lower lip, a move that made your knees feel very weak.
 “Thank you.” It came out of your mouth, earning a very surprised expression from Ivar.
 “What for?” he asked honestly a bit confused, tilting his head at you.
 “For the coffee. And for inviting me over, and for cooking.” You studied his face, hoping to find something there, something that would give up his intentions, something revealing why he was doing this. You just needed to know, needed to know if you could get your hopes up or not. Was this really just a social call because you had been working for him for a year now, or was it something else?
 “Thank me after you’ve tasted my glorious food! Then I will gladly accept your thanks.” Ivar winked, and the elevator doors opened. Ivar left the lift, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he stopped at his front door.
 His flat was the only flat up here, and you guessed it had to be gigantic, covering the whole top floor. You were sure, his flat probably also had a roof terrace.
 You had to admit, this was another thing you found kind of intimidating about this man. The sheer amount of wealth he had, the wealth his family had. While you lived in a flat share with an old kitchen and horrible, tiny bathroom, with just a wet room and not even a proper shower, he lived in this extremely modern, borderline futuristic building, overlooking Oslo.
 Ivar opened the door, and pushed himself into the flat, with you following close behind, walking past him before he closed the door again behind you.
 Obviously you had imagined this place to be huge and expensive, but what you were seeing in front of your eyes was just.. something else.
It was less of a normal flat, and more of a large loft, most of the rooms merged into one big space. There was, similar to his office, a gigantic glass front overlooking the famous park, and West Oslo. The sun was still in the sky, the sunset not being for another one and a half hours or so.
 In the centre of the room was a big, beautiful white sofa, the kind where one could just stretch out like a starfish and not fall down. In front of it was a coffee table made out of driftwood and glass, the dark wood in stark contrast with the sofa. On the right of it were large, metal, urban looking bookshelves, filled with many thick books, some leather bound and old looking, dividing the living area from the ‘bedroom’, and there were a few doors opposite of the windows, that seemed to lead into extra rooms, probably the bathroom and other rooms.
 Behind the bookshelf you could see a large bed at the wall, so large in fact that you were sure that it could comfortably fit three to four fully grown people. It was covered and surrounded in white and grey furs, sheep and reindeer as far as you could tell from the distance. Furs also covered parts of the marble floor of the flat.
 There were many more furs on and in front of the sofa, and in general it seemed that grey, white and black, together with different shades of brown were the only colours in the whole apartment, making it look very sophisticated.
 On the left-hand side was a giant, very modern kitchen, seemingly equipped with everything a cook could wish for, with a large kitchen isle and a big table in front of it, a rustic looking piece of furniture, made of wood and carved with beautiful knot patterns, probably hand made by a very skilled Scandinavian carpenter knowing a lot about medieval woodcarving.
 The kitchen itself, you noticed, was lower than what you were used to, and while it confused you for a moment, you quickly realised that it was built so that Ivar could easily reach everything from his wheelchair, without having to get any help.
 “Welcome to my humble home.” You heard Ivar’s voice behind you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You swallowed and turned to him, looking at him as he watched you with a knowing smile on his lips.
 You could not hold back a laugh.
“Humble?” you simply asked, slipping out of your shoes and walking further into the big room, looking around.
 The whole flat was modern and elegant, yet had such a rustic and clearly Scandinavian aesthetic, it was truly impressive. Whoever was the interior designer, was truly a genius, and showed an amazing appreciation for medieval Scandinavian design. Similar works you had only seen in the Folksmuseet in Bygdøy.
 The walls that were not made out of glass were covered in picture frames, displaying either old Viking artwork or photographs of Norway and Iceland, of runestones and old temples. Somehow, it fitted in perfectly with the rest of the decoration.
 There was a door in the glass front of the flat, leading out, just as you had assumed, onto a large roof top terrace, furnished with even more rustic, wooden, and probably handmade tables and chairs, and, as cliché as it sounded, a beautiful hot tub. It was built into a frame, reminding you of a Viking ship, with a set of carved stairs leading up to it, probably so that Ivar had an easier time to get in and out of it, without requiring any help.
 “Alright, I admit, not so humble.” Ivar chuckled. “It was a present from my father when I started to officially work in the company. He had his friend Floki and his wife Helga design and build this whole thing.”
 That made you turn around to him once more. You knew these names.
“The Floki and Helga?” you swallowed.
 Floki and Helga were very, very famous, highly awarded architects and designers, often hired to design important landmarks and museums. Houses planned by them costing up to a hundred million kronas. They were famous for being able to combine the traditional aesthetics of their ancestors with the modern designs of this century, creating masterpieces that were rewarded all over the world. Now, looking around Ivar’s loft once more, it seemed obvious that this was their handy work.
 “Yes, The Floki and Helga.” Ivar chuckled. “The two of them almost raised me when I was a kid. With my parents busy all the time and me being bound to.. this.” He gestured at is chair. “Floki made all the wooden furniture himself. I am very lucky.”
 “Indeed you are.” You shook your head, unable to believe what you had just heard.
 Obviously, he had been raised by the two of them. Obviously, they had made his home for him, being like family to him, and being friends of his father, the most powerful businessman in Norway, and probably even all of Europe.
By now, you wouldn’t even question, if Ivar casually told you that he was descended from Odin.
 Ivar just shrugged at your words, although the expression on his face was a mixture of amused and pride. He bent down to slip out of his shoes, before moving his wheelchair over to a spot next to the door, where another wheelchair was waiting for him, this one looking a bit different, similar to the ones used by disabled athletes. Easier to navigate and probably a bit more comfortable. Ivar heaved himself up from his chair, navigating himself into the other one, a sigh leaving his lips.
 “I don’t fancy the dirt from the streets in my home.” He explained at your confused face, before he pushed himself towards you.
Oh yes, that made sense. Just as both of you had taken off your shoes, it would only be logical for him to also ‘change wheels’.
 A faint smile was on his lips, as he looked up and into your face, his expression soft and open, something you were not quite used to from him. His body language was relaxed too, his arms simply resting in his lap, as his head was once again tilted slightly.
He was truly a beautiful man, you had to admit. It was difficult to ignore, and sometimes you caught yourself staring in meetings, hoping that no one had noticed how your eyes had been practically glued to your boss. Solveig had made fun of you even more, when you had told her about it.
 “I think I’m going to start to cook now, before we starve to death. So, sit down, get comfortable.” He winked at you, before moving his chair towards the kitchen, in the process letting the wheelchair roll a bit, while he pulled his long hair into a tight bun at the back of his head. “Or would you like to help?” he looked back at you with a raised eyebrow, looking at you from underneath his long eyelashes. You had to swallow.
 “Well, I am still your personal assistant. So, I will assist you.” You smiled, following him into the kitchen. You hoped that reminding yourself that you were still his employee would calm your nerves.
 “I had hoped you’d say that, dove.” There it was again, that nickname. Your nerves were certainly not calm now.
 Ivar started to pull out pans and a cutting board, gesturing at the fridge for you to take out certain ingredients and washing them in the sink.
 You were not entirely sure what he was going to make, but you were positively surprised that his fridge and his whole pantry was stocked very well. You had to admit, you had taken him for one of those bachelors who had never touched their kitchen in their lives, and with all the money they had always ate out.
 But, as Ivar casually explained while you were preparing food, he enjoyed cooking for himself, and did so almost every evening.
While you were washing some vegetables, and he was skilfully cutting up an onion, he casually told you about the cooking schools he had visited when he was younger, and about the occasional dinner parties he threw for his close friends and family, where he cooked up five course meals for them all by himself. He moved around his kitchen as if he knew every millimetre of it, knowing the layout like the back of his hand.
 You enjoyed this far too much. You rarely saw Ivar this casual, only on business trips when he was not in the mood to talk about work anymore. And though you did not like to admit it, you were keen to know more about his personal life, to know more about the man behind the name Lothbrok.
 It was nice to see him here, in his home. He seemed so at ease, so open, the usual anger and annoyance he often seemed to carry around with himself in day-to-day life completely absent in this moment. This was his space, where he did not have to worry, to think about what upset him.
 This flat truly seemed to be his place, and his place alone. His kingdom far from the influence of other people. Here he was himself, independent of everyone else, everything built in a way that he did not need help from other people.
 Whatever else would come of tonight, you were just happy that you could witness this. You would see Ivar differently now, you knew. And would probably fall even more for him.
 You noticed it getting a bit darker out, and a quick look at your phone told you that it was already half past nine PM. It had not seemed that long, getting to Ivar’s home and starting to cook, as you had not even finished the preparation for cooking yet, but frankly, you didn’t even mind. The setting sun tinted the whole apartment in a magical, golden light, making it look even more beautiful and magical. Ivar’s face turned away from his work for a moment, his blue eyes wandering over the horizon, where the sky was slowly tinted in orange, pink and purple. A faint smile appeared on his face, before he returned his attention to the food.
 Absently minded you put your phone on the kitchen isle, before you grabbed a jar of mixed spices, which Ivar had instructed you to get for him while he was still cutting up vegetables. You read the label, not surprised that he had not purchased them in Norway, but in Spain, turning around, eyes still on the jar. Thus, you only noticed too late that Ivar was right behind you, his chair almost inaudible on the marble floor.
 With a slightly embarrassing yelp escaping your throat, you lost balance, tripping over Ivar’s wheelchair, falling over and landing straight in his lap. His strong arms were suddenly around you to keep you from completely falling to the floor, and your face probably had taken on a crimson shade.
 “Careful there, dove. I’m usually not that hard to miss.” He smirked, to your surprise not even remotely angry with you.
 You had once, in your third month at the Lothbrok Corporation, seen a small clerk run into him in the office, who had been a bit late and had not really paid attention. After Ivar had yelled at him for good twenty minutes, he had never been heard of again.
 “Gods, I’m so sorry, I..” but you stopped, swallowing, not knowing what to say. You tried to get up, the jar of spices still in your hand, but Ivar’s strong grip around you firmly held you in place.
 The man tilted his head, eye flickering to the glass container you were holding. He let go of you with one of his arms, while the other one was still around you, taking the jar from your hands and placing it on the counter next to him. His blue eyes mustered you once more. Your heart was pounding. In the light of the setting sun he looked even more handsome than he had already.
 “I have told you, that you look good today, right?” he asked, his voice low. His hand had returned to hold you again, and you noticed his fingers carefully caressing your back, which sent a shiver up your spine.
 Your mind was racing, as was your heart.
You could not but stare into his piercing blue eyes, not sure what to say, how to respond to him right now, or if you should say anything at all. You were unable to think even one coherent thought, as you felt his strong arms around you, his firm body below you, and his hot breath against you skin.. wait. When had he gotten this close to you?
 Before you could really comprehend what was happening, you suddenly felt Ivar’s lips against yours, not firm, but soft, almost shily moving against yours. In that moment, it was as if your mind just gave up, and turned itself off.
111 notes · View notes
lucy90712 · 3 years ago
Text
Dream- face reveal
wc- 1971 
Warnings: use of dreams real name
~ I have been friends with this guy on the internet Dream for about 5 years now, we talk all the time but we have never met in person and I have never seen his face. He doesn't show his face on the internet and I've never asked so it just never happened, he knows what I look like all too well because I like sending him stupid selfies and we FaceTime in the middle of the night all the time.
We have been trying to meet in person for years but things keep getting in the way and changing our plans first family issues, then a hurricane and then a whole pandemic. Despite all of this we have finally set a date to meet which is not going to change not for anything or anyone. It's going to be a big day or should I say month, as insane as it sounds I'm going to move in with Dream and Sapnap one of our other friends for a little while to really make this trip worth it even if it only lasts that long.
The process has been difficult because for me to get to Florida I need to get a plane which requires me to get tested before I fly and for my own piece of mind I have been strictly quarantining for the past two weeks but its finally here. I fly out tomorrow morning. I went and got tested yesterday and got my negative result today which I need to get on the plane.
I've been packing all day today because to be there for a month I need a bunch of my set up and cameras so that my content doesn't just stop but then I also need clothes and I can't seem to get both things to fit quite right.
At one point my phone started ringing but there was a mountain of stuff everywhere so I had to dig around to find it and when I did I saw that it was a FaceTime call from Dream, I picked up and immediately put my phone down to get on with my 5th attempt at packing.
"Yo hows it going?" Dream asked
"I'd say pretty average right now I'm super excited for tomorrow but my bag is giving me a hell of a fight" I replied
"Prop your phone up and I'll try and help" he said
I did as I was told and got my small tripod to rest my phone in where you could see what I was looking at. Honestly it was a mess and I was kind of embarrassed but Dream didn't need to know that and besides my face wasn't in frame so he couldn't see how embarrassed I was. I attempted putting everything in a slightly different way to last time which seemed to work until it came to fitting in my tripod and my wash bag of which there was no room for.
"Fuck sake I thought I had it then" I raged slightly
"Ok take out the webcam and forget about the tripod because I have ones that you can use and then try because I think that should give you enough room" he said
"Hell yeah thanks dream" I said after zipping up the suitcase
I flopped back on the floor tired from the minimal amounts of effort I had put in today which just shows how incredibly unfit I am. I recovered before getting up and moving my phone to my desk where I sat to talk to Dream.
We talked for a while until Sapnap came in and I talked to him for a little while, he's been living with Dream for a few months so he warned me about a few things like you don't wake Dream up which I took note of and he told me that Dream will just come and sit in your stream. Eventually they had to leave so I was left on my own to just kind of chill until it was an acceptable time to go to sleep.
Skip to the morning
I woke up at 5am when my alarm went off, I have a love hate relationship with my alarm because I only ever use it when I have something going on which is exciting but the sound makes me want to throw my phone out the window. Despite my annoyance I got up and went straight to the bathroom to shower and get dressed, I thought about wearing something nice but then I realised I had a 5 hour flight and I couldn't bare the thought of being sat down for that long not in comfy clothes. My comfy outfit consisted of leggings and one of my ex boyfriends hoodies because I never gave it back and I'm over it enough to just wear the hoodie whenever I want.
At just before 6 I got in my Uber to head to the airport seeing as my flight was at around 8 it would be wise to get there early. I wasn't sure how busy the airport would be seeing as you aren't meant to travel but I don't think I've ever seen an airport that wasn't busy.
I made it to the airport and as I assumed it wasn't heaving but there was still a fair amount of people around. I made my way through the crowds and checked in for my flight before heading through security and then making it to the main part of the airport. That part was less busy as there is more space for people to spread out into which made me much less anxious about people being too close. I had a little while to wait for my flight so I went and got some food because I haven't eaten today, and I don't want to end up with a headache.
When it was time for my flight to board I went to the gate and got straight into my seat watching as more people boarded but not as many as I expected, it was clear that all of the people on the flight had a good reason to be going to Florida and not just going on holiday and no one was sat together so all rules were being adhered to.
My flight landed 5 hours later and everyone filed off the plane going there own way leaving me kind of lost in a place that I wasn't used to and with the anxiety of going to meet Dream for the first time. I had a bit longer to wait because I had to get an Uber to the house even though dream offered to come and pick me up I told him not to because the less people at the airport the better and just incase people recognised me I didn't want him to accidentally face reveal.
I collected my suitcase and went straight out to the car park to get in my uber who was waiting just outside the doors in the designated area for taxis. As soon as I got in the car I text Dream letting him know I was on my way and sharing my location just in case things went south.
My uber stopped outside this one house and I got out walking up the drive taking in the house number to make sure I was at the right place which I was. Thats when the nerves really kicked in, I was about to meet one of my best friends in person for the first time. This is so insane to think that after all there years we get to do all the stupid things friends do.
I got to the door and rang the doorbell waiting the few excruciating seconds before I heard movement behind it indicating that there was someone there. It opened slowly and the first person I saw was sapnap who of course I was excited to see but we have talked properly on FaceTime before so I already know what he looks like.
Next another person popped up behind pushing sapnap out the way and giving me a hug straight away I knew it had to be dream but he ran over so quick that I didn't get to take in anything other than the fact he was hugging me. He pulled away and I got to look at his face, he looked pretty much exactly how I thought he would from the descriptions I have heard. As much as wavy length doesn't sound like a thing it somehow fit his hair and his eyes were also super green, he was definitely taller than I expected though this man towered over me like it was nothing and could definitely push me to the ground in a second but he looked kind just how you want a friend to be.
After a few minutes of freaking out that this was actually happening they let me inside and gave me a tour of the house showing me my room and the set up they had put together for me with a webcam and tripod just like dream said. They finished off the tour before I was made to sit and play whatever game they wanted with them.
We played an assortment of games for hours on end before we ordered food for dinner which we ate all chilling on the sofa. I almost forgot that my followers didn't know I was here but when I remembered I stole patches from dream and got him to take a picture of me with her to post on twitter and Instagram because people would get it without me having to explain. Not much of a grand reveal considering Sapnap did the same when he got here but I didn't really have any other ideas I mean its not like I can just do dream's face reveal for him with a picture on my twitter can I. The response to my tweet was insane within minutes people had got it trending and they were freaking out with all sorts of theories of if I'd officially moved in or if I was just visiting although both were kind of right.
Having spent a few hours here now I feel very at home they boys are really welcoming making sure I'm all good and not too tired after my flight which of course I am but sleep is for the weak so I'll wait. I have been told to call the two of them by their real names unless its on stream which feels kind of odd because I'm use to calling them what their know by despite knowing their real names the whole time. They have given me a nickname which I now go by to make it fair.
It was sad when the day came to an end when we all decided it was best to get some sleep even though I think their going to stay up and they said it for my own sake because I've been yawning non stop for the past 2 hours but either way I'm going to go to sleep and this day (one of the best days of my life) will become that of a memory.
Although I don't think this day could have gone any better its consisted of everything I've ever wanted to have in a friend but none of my friends back home if you can call them friends are into the same things as me so it never works out. Now I have two friends who share the same interests and have the same god awful sleep schedule so we can stay up messing around together if we want to which is what life as a 20 year old should be like. Fun.
66 notes · View notes
doormarrow · 4 years ago
Text
The Infamous House of Lamentation Cuddle Pile
Idk if this is a headcanon or a fic, but here we gooooo
The Curious Incident of the Infamous House of Lamentation Cuddle Pile
Let’s just say MC had a no good very bad day. It might have even been a lost-a-bet-and-had-to-eat-Solomon’s-cooking kind of a day
When they got back to the House of Lamentation, it was time to collapse. The floor of the common room looked *very* tempting, but they trudged up to the attic.
It turns out that Belphie was there first, much to MC’s surprise. MC noticed lumps in the bed, sure, but assumed that they were pillows and did their best dramatic flop, squishing the demon in the process. 
You would think Belphie would be startled; But if you think this exact same situation hasn’t happened with Beel before, you’re wrong.
He just lazily turned to MC, long enough to give them a grumpy look, and then buried his face back in his cow pillow. He may or may not have been secretly glad to *be* a pillow, but he would never tell. 
But where there’s one, there’s undoubtedly the other. Beel came looking for Belphie a minute or two later, wanting to relax and watch a movie (possibly with some popcorn). When he saw Belphie’s head peeking out from underneath MC, he smiled a bit to himself and settled beside his two favorite people in the world, propping himself up on the headboard. He’s a careful cuddler, and if he can’t be on the bottom of the pile, he will be as gentle as demonly possible.
MC was satisfied that the attic sandwich was now complete, but now there were voices downstairs, echoing in the entryway. They tried to snuggle deeper in between Beel and Belphie to drown out the noise, but the door burst open.
In came Asmo. He had been looking for the MC ever since he heard they came home tired, wanting to make sure they were alright, and that they got enough sleep last night. He was stopped in his tracks though. He had always thought the attic sandwich was overwhelmingly adorable (and maybe he was just a bit jealous of it as well) but this was a whole other plane of existence. He rushed over, and promptly put an elbow on Belphie to lean over and tell MC how adorable they were. He began to chat about his day, and the best posts he saw on Devilgram, never stopping to acknowledge the occasional snarky comment from Belphie. If allowed, he will absolutely begin playing with MC’s hair. 
Luke shows up a bit out of breath and peering around the door. He had just escaped the commotion downstairs and almost turned around when he saw yet more demons, but when Beelzebub motioned him over he sighed, defeated, and trotted over to the bed. Beel pulled up his knees, and Luke plopped down cross legged in front of him, beginning a tale of being called a chihuahua yet again by Lucifer. And so the pile now numbers 5.
Simeon marched up the stairs to find the very smol angel. Simeon, like Asmo, wholly endorses cuddle piles, albeit he suspects not in the same way. He politely asked to join the pile, and somehow manages to do it quite gracefully, lying side by side with the MC, while staying in head-pat range of Luke. He couldn’t help but think about how wonderful it was that the MC had brought them all together like this, and he began to drift off, wondering about how best to translate that quality into Henry...
Satan came up to try and find a quiet place to study, as now his least favorite demon was tearing up the house, trying to find Mammon. He debates briefly whether or not to move on to the library, but Asmo caught him as soon as he poked his head in the door, and pleaded for him to join the rest of them. Satan sighed, but a puppy eyed look from MC convinced him to settle on top of the headboard and try to continue his reading as best as he could. MC, now thoroughly squished by demons and some angels to boot, was positively beaming. Satan could swear that if he listened close enough they were actually purring, and a smile crept across his face, almost without him realizing it. Once he did however, he used his book to shield his face (and his now very prominent blush) from view.
Levi shows up with a laptop, looking very grumpy. He has been spam texting the MC for the last half hour because they said they would stream the premiere of the new TSL movie with him. He is even more grumpy when he realizes that the MC is sandwiched in a bunch of normies, but when given puppy eyes will begrudgingly set up the projector in the attic to watch the movie there. When he’s invited to attempt to sit on the  now-very-full bed, he gives them all the look of utter horror, but once more pleading eyes from his Henry win the day. Levi gingerly sits on the very edge of the mattress closest to MC, mumbling about normies and covering his face. He startles a bit when Belphie starts snoring from the depths of the pile, but otherwise settles in.
This did not last long. Shortly after the movie starts, in a tense scene between the Lord of Corruption and the Lord of Fools, the door bursts open again, scaring Luke into Beel’s chest. Mammon was doing his best impression of Cerberus’s zoomies, and dove headfirst into Levi, knocking him further back into the pile. He then proceeds to burrow as fast as he can, trying to hide. After explaining in very hurried terms that unless he hides now his future is upside down and attached to the ceiling, he covers himself with the edge of a blanket. His brothers (except perhaps, for Beel, who personally thinks that Mammon is great for hugs and therefore great for cuddle piles, and Belphie, who at this point is mostly unconscious and couldn’t care less as long as the MC remained on top of him) all internally debate kicking him out of the pile, but a murderous look from the MC puts a stop to that. MC grabs another edge of the blanket, and they create a tent to keep in the warmth. Levi.exe stopped working, as after being knocked over he was now directly on top of the MC. He might’ve complained about Mammon, but at the moment his brain was too overloaded from how impossibly cute the situation was. Not even in his favorite team sport anime was there anything that could have prepared him for this. 
Solomon shows up not long after, waving his DDD in the air with a suspiciously familiar picture— Levi nearly shushes him, but when he took a closer look at the picture on the phone, he blushes hard and retreats under the blanket. On his DDD is a selfie Asmo took with the whole pile behind him. 
“Asmo, you called?” Solomon is grinning ear to ear, and without asking sets himself down beside the mischievous Avatar of Lust. Asmo does his best to make room for him, not wanting to exclude anyone from the monstrous pile. Solomon, being a human, takes up no where near the amount of space that, say, Beel does, but his legs just couldn’t quite fit. He solves the problem by making an ottoman himself, drawing some glowing purple rings and symbols in the air beside the bed and crossing his ankles over top of them. He congratulates Levi on his choice of movie, and leans against the pile to watch.
They all get to about the midpoint of the movie, when Asmo feels that he’s somehow forgetting something. Something, or someone important… He was about to forget it when Diavolo climbs through the window asking “dID yOU FOrgET ABOuT ME” appeared in the doorway, looking utterly offended.
He quickly forgives them for apparently forgetting to invite him to the cuddle party, and advances on the bed. He stops, turns around and oh no he’s doing a trust fall—
The whole pile groans and Levi wonders if he’ll be able to breathe again. Diavolo, on the other hand, could not be more delighted, putting his hands behind his head and asking about the movie. 
Barbatos watched, amused, from a corner of the room. No one is exactly sure how or when he got there, but that wasn’t at all unusual for Barbatos. MC asks him to join, which prompts Levi to silently plead for his lungs, but Barbatos politely declines. Being pestered further however, the prince in particular putting up a strong argument, Barbatos gives a slight smile and manages to find a single open edge to precariously balance on. He laughs a bit to himself, at the very least glad that everyone is getting along for once. MC is pleased, but both they and Asmo could still tell someone was missing…
Lucifer was having a difficult day. He couldn’t find Cerberus, who was due for a brushing, and he had begun to worry about the MC, who came in with a face so beaten down that it made him of all people feel beyond exhausted. On top of that, Mammon had the audacity to inform him that he had planned a spur of the moment get together at the House of Lamentation with Purgatory Hall, Diavolo, and Barbatos in which he promised that Lucifer would do the cooking.
Mammon had disappeared, and so Lucifer sat down at his desk defeated. He would message Diavolo in the meantime, asking to perhaps try a different day, or to go out to Ristorante Six instead. He picked up his DDD to do so, but something nagged at the back of his head. The House of Lamentation was too quiet. The last time the house had been this quiet, Satan had rigged a glitter bomb in the kitchen that took several decades to wash out. He still shuddered at the thought of green glitter. He was brought out of his thoughts as the DDD rumbled in his hand. A new Devilgram post? The image that came up was from Asmodeus’s account... 
Mammon was busy arguing with Levi about how no I don’t want ta cuddle with you weirdos, I’m just lookin out for my best interests, s’all. What dya mean tsundere? Look who’s talking scale boi when the poor, beaten-and-abused attic door was slammed open once again. 
Lucifer loomed, putting on his best lecture face. Mammon was so far beneath the pile at this point that Lucifer would have to pry them all apart to get to him. 
“What in the Devildom do you think you’re doing? Being cute won’t get you out of this.” Lucifer begins to explain that snuggling the Prince of the Devildom is improper at a time like this, Mammon should learn not to pull others into his promises, etc. Barbatos is unimpressed. Lucifer definitely thinks this is cute, but he would never, in any time or realm, admit it.
He continues uninterrupted, but something can be heard padding up the stairs. A minute or so into his speech, he is suddenly toppled over, careening headfirst into the pile.
Absolute confusion from everyone involved, and a very, very grumpy Lucifer. Also chaotic laughter from Satan, who is now directly above Lucifer, sitting on the headboard.
Cerberus has arrived, claiming his spot atop the pile. He proudly sits on Lucifer’s chest, as if to say to the MC, look what I brought, aren’t I a good boy?
Lucifer makes an attempt to get up, but then Diavolo, Asmo, Simeon, and the MC began pleading with him to stay a while. He melted a little on the inside, but when the MC grabbed his hand to stop him from leaving he broke, and resigned to stay, just for the moment. He closes his eyes, for once relishing the fact of being surrounded by his family and closest friends. Cerberus curled up on top, content that he had brought the last piece to his puppy pile.
And so they stayed like that for the rest of the night, even after the movie ended, only pausing for Asmo to get his softest blankets and pillows from his room. Satan got drowsy while reading his book, eventually nodding off and moving from the headboard into the pile, and accidentally leaning on Lucifer and Cerberus. Lucifer was more than surprised, but he vowed not to move a muscle so he wouldn’t disturb the sleeping bookworm. Diavolo took the other side of Lucifer resting his head on Lucifer’s shoulder, and even Barbatos relaxed against the pile, folding his hands on his chest, and glancing every once in a while at Luke to make sure he was comfortable. Mammon and Levi shared their spot squishing the MC, heads together and snoring lightly. MC hugged and held hands with whoever was closest by, occasionally shifting their weight to hopefully make Belphie more comfortable. Asmo and Solomon leaned on each other on one side of the bed, Asmo co-opting his magical ottoman and curling up as best he could. Simeon, oddly content with his spot near the bottom at the pile, was dozing away peacefully, somehow still graceful but letting out a small, perfectly pitched whistle as he breathed in and out. Last but not least, Luke had rolled himself into a tiny angel ball against Beel’s chest, and Beel left one hand on his head at all times. Beel was the last to fall asleep. He was too busy smiling, feeling fuller now than he had in ages.
All photo evidence of the event mysteriously disappeared, and that was how the infamous House of Lamentation cuddle pile happened, cross my heart and hope to sneeze.
RIP Belphie
PS Asmo is platonic and non-platonic cuddle king, fight me on it.
220 notes · View notes
rafael-silva · 4 years ago
Text
at your fingertips: a tarlos fic
When Carlos watches a video of TK working out at the firehouse in one of his old police academy t-shirts, he plans on showing TK just how much he appreciates seeing him in his clothes and the full scale of the effect the paramedic has on him once he gets home. Plus, Carlos has a comeback of his own.
for good things happen bingo: tarlos + wearing each other’s clothes
making out, kissing, neck kissing, soft carlos reyes/tk strand, sharing clothes, mild hurt/comfort, they are so in love, cuddling 
3.3k | rated M | on ao3
*****
Carlos is in the middle of doing some chores around the house on his day off when he decides to take a break and scroll through Instagram.
He heads into the kitchen, fetching a cold bottle of water and retreats into the living room, falling backwards on the couch, relishing the feeling of the soft cushions under and behind him. After opening the app, he spots a new Instastory from Marjan and touches his finger to the screen there, playing it.
Carlos is glad he hadn’t taken a sip of water yet. Because he most likely would have choked on it from what his eyes are met with.
His eyebrows travel up his forehead a little and he knows the heat climbing his face isn’t from exhaustion or from moving around the house for the past couple of hours.
No. It’s from the video she’s uploaded.
TK, Paul and Mateo seem to be in the middle of some kind of challenge, a workout challenge. Marjan is clearly amused and entertained by the three men, judging by her off-screen laugh. Carlos knows that he’d probably be just as amused too if he were actually watching the video as a whole.
Carlos isn’t really aware of anything in that video except how damn good TK looks in one of his own old police academy t-shirts.
He had noticed that that shirt had mysteriously disappeared (or not so mysteriously when TK is his boyfriend) and now Carlos knew exactly what TK, and that t-shirt, were up to. He always knew TK looked good in his clothes, and knowing how the paramedic is very much a super ambitious clothes hoarder, he always looked forward to seeing TK in his clothes. Most of those moments a surprise, and the anticipation would also excite Carlos.
And boy, was this moment right now a surprise of its own. It hadn’t even crossed his mind, the possibility of TK wearing Carlos’s clothes at the firehouse, so that video kind of short-circuited Carlos’s brain, in a good way.
There is just something about the way his t-shirt hugs TK’s body, it had shrunk a little from wash after wash over the years, making it a perfect fit for TK. It fits his body like a glove, the sweat also making the shirt cling to his chest, leaving nothing to imagination. Not only that, but TK had gone ahead and rolled the short sleeves up to his shoulders, showing off his incredibly toned biceps as he lifts and lowers the dumbbells.
The video is over way too quickly. And if Carlos touches the screen again to reply it, well, who can blame him?
The officer’s body feels alive now, heat coursing through his veins. The tiredness that was lingering before is long gone now, replaced with fire. The effect TK has on him, even through a video, never fails to completely and utterly blow Carlos’s mind.
He draws in a deep breath and wills his heart to calm down, his eyes moving to the time on his phone. TK has six more hours for his shift and then he’ll be home.
Or, better yet, six more hours and Carlos can show TK how much he appreciates seeing TK in his clothes and the full scale of the effect the younger man has on him.
And if Carlos finishes the chores and errands while simultaneously counting down the minutes and having that Instagram story playing on a loop in his head, again, who can blame him?
*****
TK is pushing the condo door open and dropping his keys into the bowl nearby a little over six hours later. Carlos turns his attention from where he’s standing in the kitchen, and seeing TK stride in and dropping his duffel near the door, is all it takes for the officer to abandon the task at hand (putting away clean dishes) and makes his way towards his boyfriend.
Seeing TK in the flesh is more than enough to ignite the sparks that have been growing in Carlos’s stomach into a fire.
TK smiles sweetly at Carlos and then Carlos is on him, holding his face in place and cutting off TK’s “hey babe” by capturing TK’s lips in a hot kiss.
TK’s response is instant, his hands immediately going to grab at the back of Carlos’s t-shirt and he returns the kiss with the same fervor and heat. The kiss quickly turns messy, full of tongue, teeth and noses clashing.
Carlos swipes his tongue over TK’s bottom lip and proceeds to take TK’s same lip between his teeth, softly biting down just the way TK likes. And TK doesn’t hold back an inch of the heavy moan that escapes him at that.
The contrast in Carlos during these moments steals TK’s breath away, how Carlos can be so excited and on edge like this and is always very gentle at the same time. It makes TK’s head swim with how much he loves and wants Carlos.
Once he releases TK’s lip, Carlos moves down onto his neck, licking and sucking every patch of skin he comes in contact with. He takes it all in, inhaling TK’s scent, TK’s taste on his lips, TK’s small movements under his hold.
TK moves his head to the side and back, giving Carlos better access and exposing more skin for him. And by the small growl Carlos lets out, TK knows the larger man appreciates it.
“Who’s the tiger now?” TK says, teasing breathlessly.
He gets a small bite and swipe of a tongue over the area in response.
TK’s hand finds its way to Carlos’s loose curls, settling on Carlos’s head there.
Carlos then returns to TK’s face, giving him another heated kiss and it’s TK’s turn to hold Carlos’s face in his palms. Carlos is radiating heat, his face flushed red and the look he’s giving TK makes the paramedic shiver.
“Hmm,” TK hums, eyes glittering with pride. “I see it worked.”
Carlos watches TK for a few moments before replying, but then he instantly sees through a few things. The way TK walked into the condo, the flashes of pride on his face now, TK knew exactly what he was doing. And, oh.
“Wait,” Carlos’s eyebrows lift slightly. “Did you orchestrate this?”
TK can’t hold back, he drops his head for a second before meeting Carlos’s gaze again, his expression playful. “I think orchestrate is too big of a word…I saw an opportunity and made the best of it. Besides, I was looking forward to seeing and hearing what it did to you. Couldn’t wait to come home to this.”
Carlos shakes his head, intrigued and the thought that TK knew how Carlos would react and waiting to come home to him, to this, turns him on even more. Carlos doesn’t waste a single second in claiming TK’s lips in another passionate kiss. TK gives as good as he gets, and in an instant, he’s turning them around and pushing Carlos back against the wall behind them.
He pulls back, latching onto Carlos’s neck and peppering it with kisses and nibbles here and there.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about that video all damn day. You’re such a tease sometimes, you know that?” Carlos speaks, his voice husky as he runs his fingers through TK’s once-neat hair.
TK pulls back enough to answer Carlos. “Maybe,” he replies with a smirk. “I had something better than that video,” he adds with a pant and a wiggle of his eyebrows.
Carlos’s eyes go wide at that, starring directly into TK’s, the sheer want radiating from the officer’s brown eyes heat up TK’s face even more and makes his heat skip a beat. Carlos’s brain definitely conjures up an image of that selfie, and it increases the fire bubbling inside his stomach.
It stills makes TK a little dizzy and weak in the knees up until this day, every time he’s reminded the effect he has on Carlos, and it takes his breath away when he sees and feels how much Carlos Reyes wants him.
TK’s hands go back to Carlos’s face, cupping his cheeks and tenderly running his thumb over his cheekbones, Carlos leans into his touch and TK gives him a warm, soft smile.
“A selfie,” TK clarifies his last statement. “A sweaty selfie,” he purrs, his voice low and slow.
That’s all it takes for the little brown remaining in Carlos’s irises to completely fuse with the black now, his eyes not leaving TK’s flushed face.
“But Marjan beat me, posting that video and I knew it would also do the trick,” TK winks.
Carlos takes his own bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on his flesh while watching TK.
“Yeah, you always are a tease. A very sexy one,” he whispers before going back to showering TK’s neck with kisses.
“You love it,” TK quips back.
Carlos can’t see his face, but he knows the the smirk is widening on his boyfriend’s face, he can feel it. He’s pulling back slightly, his own face red and hot.
“You know I do,” Carlos replies, stealing TK’s breath with another kiss, but this one is more emotional. It’s like TK is his lifeline, and in more ways than one, he truly is.
TK doesn’t hold back, pouring everything he feels for Carlos into the kiss, the want, the love, the need for this man, and he deepens it, until they both become one, tangled together, not knowing where one end and the other begins. Neither of them know which of them is responsible for the moan that emits between them and neither of them care.
“I’m gonna need to see that selfie later,” Carlos heaves into the small space between them when they eventually separate. He cups TK’s face, running a thumb over TK’s kiss-swollen bottom lip.
They stop moving for a few moments, Carlos touching his forehead to TK’s and they just breathe together, breathe each other in, savouring this moment, engulfed in each other’s arms and love.
Carlos then brushes a tentative kiss to TK’s lips before pulling back and making his way to the stairs, his hand holding TK’s and pulling him along.
They hurry up the stairs and then it’s Carlos’s turn to gently push TK against the first wall they meet in their bedroom, framing TK’s body with his own. Carlos closes the distance between them, devouring TK’s lips, drinking TK in like he’s the first drop of water he has had in days.
Carlos grabs at TK’s hoodie, and they separate only long enough to remove it, followed by both of their shirts meeting somewhere on the floor. Carlos goes for TK’s belt next, whipping it off and discarding it somewhere near their shirts, the belt clattering on the floor where it lands.
TK pulls Carlos impossibly closer to him, their bare chests colliding and resting against each other. The mutual heat going off both of them in waves is almost too much to handle.
Carlos’s hands squeeze between them, finding their goal and unbuttoning TK’s jeans while TK’s go to the strings of Carlos’s sweats, pulling them loose.
“Off,” TK mumbles against Carlos’s lips.
“All in good time,” Carlos smirks in response.
TK is already so far gone he can scarcely believe it. His world has narrowed down to Carlos’s touches, his kisses, his beautiful skin and toned muscles. Narrowed down to Carlos.
The larger man pulls back, and something akin to a whine escapes TK’s lips at the loss of Carlos and his warmth. He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it, though, because he’s being pulled towards the bed by Carlos and finds himself falling backwards on the mattress.
TK takes a second to adjust himself before Carlos is crawling on top of him, a hand on either side of TK’s head as he lowers himself and claims TK’s lips once again, a knee settling between TK’s open legs.
A hungry moan is heard from TK as he returns the kiss, his arms scrambling and wrapping around Carlos’s back, pulling him closer and then softly scratching his nails down the expanse of Carlos’s skin there, with just enough pressure he knows the officer likes.
He gets an immediate response from Carlos as he breaks the kiss and buries his face in TK’s neck, breathing a moan there.
Carlos begins to moves south, focusing on TK’s chest, every inch of it. He drops kisses here and there and stops at TK’s bullet wound scar, slightly discolored and standing out against the rest of TK’s skin.
His breath hitches a little at the reminder of just how close he had gotten to loosing TK, how close they had gotten to losing all of this. Flashes of that night take over his mind; hearing the radio call about a firefighter being shot after he had left the house, wishing he could take the first u-turn and race to the hospital while praying and praying it wasn’t TK. Having his heart ripped out of his chest when he finds out his fear had come true when Paul called him. Then hours later, standing in the hospital room doorway, tears clinging to his eyes, watching TK on the hospital bed, too still, too pale. Running his fingers through TK’s hair, and that time, unlike when TK would lean into his touch, getting no response. A light shudder runs through his body.
Knowing where Carlos’s thoughts have taken him, TK reaches out a hand and places it under Carlos’s chin, guiding his face towards him.
“Come back to me, ‘Los,” TK whispers. “I’m right here, baby.”
Carlos goes easily with him, looking into TK’s eyes and there’s so much he carries in those green irises, so much love and affection, so much promise and joy, accompanied with heat and want, and it’s all there for him.
Carlos nods and dives down, a passionate kiss erupting between them and TK lets Carlos take control and the lead, knowing that’s exactly what he needs right now. To feel TK, in every way. TK runs a hand through Carlos’s curls while the other cups his face.
“You’re beautiful, Ty,” Carlos admires. “Every inch of you, all of you, it’s you and it’s beautiful beyond words.”
The love and sincerity echoing off Carlos’s tone melts TK into a puddle. His heart swells in his chest at those words, knowing they come from the bottom of Carlos’s heart. He sees and feels the love Carlos has for him every minute of every day.
And TK will do everything in his power to make Carlos feel just as loved as he feels.
“You’re quite breathtaking yourself,” TK replies, his voice filled with emotion. “In every way. And it blows my mind that you’re mine.”
Carlos nods. “I am yours, and you are mine. My mind is just as blown as yours.”  
They soon become a heap of tangled limbs, last pieces of clothing taken off and discarded here and there. The flame now burns brightly and hotly between them, the sparks surging through their bodies as they become one, electrified by each other in every way, roused by each other’s everything. They give each other their all, pouring everything they’re feeling and everything they are and it’s all understood, it’s reciprocated, it’s everything they need. And it’s perfect.
*****
Later in the night, TK is lying on his side of the bed, scrolling through Instagram when a text pops up on the top of his screen. He laughs when his eyes go over the words.
Marjan: You’re welcome, lover boy. ;)
TK: How did you even…
Marjan: Intuition. Also, I saw that Carlos watched that video. Plus, you looked smug leaving the firehouse after shift. Just putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
TK: I thought it was Paul’s thing to be, well…this.
Marjan: I have my moments, too.
Marjan: And Paul had agreed with me.
TK chuckles, hearing the smirk Marjan is most definitely wearing through her texts.
He hears footsteps making their way into the bedroom and he’s about to mention the text conversation to Carlos but the words stop short on his tongue when his eyes land on his boyfriend.
Carlos is standing tall, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and in all his glory, is wearing TK’s black Austin FD hoodie.
And by the look decorating the officer’s face, he knows exactly what it’s doing to TK. Sure, it’s not a clingy t-shirt while working out, but he knows how much TK loves hoodies. It’s a subtle comeback, and with how TK is looking at him right now and the pink color painting his cheeks, it’s working.
The text messages go forgotten as TK’s eyes roam over Carlos’s figure, admiring the way his hoodie wraps around Carlos’s chest and arms. It’s a little snug at the biceps, and that just adds to the exquisite sight in front of him.
“Touché,” TK grins approvingly.
Carlos chuckles and pushes himself off the door frame, walking over and joining TK in bed.
“I was looking for it and then I remembered it was in the dryer,” Carlos says, pulling the blankets over them.
“I’m glad you found it,” TK winks and brushes a kiss to Carlos’s cheek. “You look good in my hoodie.”
He accepts the invitation of Carlos’s open arms and snuggles close, resting his head over Carlos’s chest and draping an arm over his middle.
“Hey, babe?”
“Hm?” Carlos looks at TK, his arm wrapped around his shoulder.
TK lifts his head so he looks into Carlos’s eyes. “I love you.”
Carlos’s face breaks into a soft smile, the smile that is reserved for only TK. “I love you, too, baby.”
They share a tentative kiss, tender and sweet.
“Oh!” TK says when they pull apart, his eyes sparkling as he reaches for his phone.
Carlos raises an amused eyebrow at his boyfriend and his phone pings a moment later.
He reaches for it and the text preview on his lock screen has him looking at TK with a fiery gaze.
TK blushes more under Carlos’s watch as a smirk takes over his face.
“You asked and you shall receive,” TK quips.
It’s the sweaty selfie Carlos was promised earlier. It’s more defined than the video, though the video had the grace of TK moving in that t-shirt, but the selfie holds the wonder of being up-close. The video hadn’t left anything to imagination, but the selfie goes a step further, not only showing the very satisfied look TK is wearing, but also showoff the edges of his well-defined abs, his strained biceps and the glint in his eyes, speaking volumes through the photo. It’s all on display for Carlos, and for Carlos only now.
And even though TK is right here, right next to him and he can reach out and touch everything in that picture, the selfie still leaves Carlos breathless. The effect TK has on him has Carlos going a little lightheaded, a familiar sensation of want brewing in his gut.
“Oh, Ty,” Carlos whispers before capturing TK’s lips in a kiss more heated than the previous one.
TK chuckles as he returns it, all-consumed by the rush that runs through his veins with his and Carlos’s tongues brush against each other.
“You know,” Carlos pants, his tongue darting out to swipe at his lips, TK following the gesture. “I have a couple more shirts you can borrow.”
“Hm,” TK replies, drawing in his own bottom lip between his teeth. “I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
Carlos smirks, a hand cupping TK’s face and runs his thumb over his cheek.
TK chuckles, a hand traveling to the nape of Carlos’s neck and pulls him in, connecting them with another kiss.
106 notes · View notes
canonicallyincorrect · 4 years ago
Text
Haikyu Headcanons
First post: Proposals!
Featuring: Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tooru
Warnings: N/A
A/N: Tell us what you think! Hoping to write little drabbles here and there when the inspiration hits <3
~~~~~~~~~~
IWAIZUMI HAJIME
(to preface, you both started dating in high school. you were the seijoh volleyball manager and in the same year as him)
Oikawa was planning on coming back to Japan for a few weeks and it got you all riled up and excited
y'all are besties
little do you know that he actually arrives a few days early, as Hajime had requested to help him figure out something really important
he posts pics of him in Argentina to throw you off guard and it totally does
Iwaizumi had reluctantly asked Oikawa to help him pick out a ring, knowing that you both talk all the time
Tooru knew what you wanted immediately and they both went ring hunting
Days before your scheduled dinner with the seijoh four, Hajime kept the ring on his person at all times
he was so nervous that you would find out or someone would let it slip
maki and mattsun
either way, he got really nervous whenever you would sit next to him on a certain side
you didn't notice all that much, as you were so excited to see everyone after so long
the night arrives, and you all meet up for dinner
just catching up, nothing too major
their group chat is popping off though
the three other men keep texting and asking him when he's gonna ask
eventually, he just turns off his phone and waits for the right moment
dinner passes quickly, and the question still hasn't come up
Maki pipes up and asks if they wanted to break into the school gym, for "old times sake"
You agree happily, not wanting the night to end
Maki, Oikawa and yourself lead the charge as Mattsun gives Iwa a reassuring pat on the back
nervousness bubbles in his stomach as he watches you three pry open the gym doors and march right through
in the dim light, he can make out your figure and he just knows that this is it
Oikawa catches the glimpse in his eyes and taps the other guys on the shoulder, both of them slowing down
you don't notice that anyways walking beside you until you ask Maki a question
"Maki?" you turn around and dead center of the court is Hajime down on one knee
"Y/N Y/L/N," your eyes start to well with tears, "I have loved you from the moment I saw you receive a volleyball with your head our second year of high school."
Streams of water sprout from your eyes, and the emotion is so much that your knees buckle as he talks
He cuts his speech short and rushes over to you, rubbing your back and asking if you're okay
immediately you bury your head in the crook of his neck and mutter a thousand "yes's"
The other men start to cheer, each of them holding a phone in their hands as they record a pivotal moment
Through the tears and hiccups, Hajime slides the ring on
it's a perfect fit
OIKAWA TOORU
(confession for Oikawa to come)
you still live in Japan while he's off in Argentina
you both make long distance work the best you can
i.e. constantly texting one another, sending pictures, video chats and so on
he screenshots all of the selfies you send him
BUT the Olympics are coming up and he's going to be coming to Japan after months of not seeing one another
and this is the first time he gets to play in them
he's so nervous but refuses to admit it
he sends you tickets before you can even think about buying them
Everyone is so excited to see Tooru again, and he’s planning something big ;)
He spends the days before the games practicing or with you, and he just loves holding you and kissing you
It feels so nice to be back in the same apartment
The night before his game, you receive an email that you got the promotion, and you’d be able to live with him in Argentina!!
You hold off that thought until he wins his gold metal, but he’s thinking about the ring on the chain under his shirt
The game is intense, Japan’s team is def giving Argentina a run for their money, but Tooru comes out of it all with his gold metal
You run down to the court like you used too, brushing past the security guards as he opens his arms and catches you
The crowd goes soft at the scene, and you could care less that he’s sweaty af
As you pull away from the hug, he grabs your hand, and slips a ring onto your finger.
It’s a shock, but you look down and see the ring of your dreams
Looking up at him, your eyes ask if this is really happening, then you see behind him, Tooru’s team members are holding up signs that read “Will you marry me?”
He just smiles as you both start to cry.
You hug him again and just nod your head
“Why’d you put the ring on before I said yes?” you question later
“I knew you would.” smug bastard
Later that night, after celebrating the gold metal and engagement with everyone, when the two of you are lying in bed you turn to him
“Tooru,” he turns, facing you, “you know this is gonna be hard since we’re thousands of miles apart, right?”
“I know cutie, but it’s all worth it for you.” he kisses you, and you’re a little cocky that he hasn’t caught on
“You’re such a sap baby.” you bring a hand to his cheek and rub small circles, “But I’m saying that it wouldn’t be so bad if we were in the same place…”
You see the gears turning in his head. It's a little hard for him to process what’s going on
“Y/N, what do you mean…?” His face is serious, but you crack down and start to laugh
“I got the promotion and my papers,” his eyes light up. “I can go to Argentina”
He flips you over and presses hundreds of light kisses across your face, professing his love
You two hold each other, just like that first date, and fall asleep knowing you’ll never have to be apart again
123 notes · View notes
capesandshapes · 4 years ago
Text
All You Had to Do Was Stay (Post Reveal/ Pre Relationship) (3/4)
Summary:
Three years ago, Marinette revealed her identity to him. Three years ago, he promised to wait in a hotel room for her. Three years ago, she opened the door to find it empty.
Now she's expected to play nice with him, since she's the maid of honor and he's unfortunately the best man. But old habits die hard, and old feelings die harder.
"This is a wedding, not a death march, Marinette."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was going well.
Or, at least as well as a combination Bachelor and Bachelorette party planned entirely via awkward emails could go.
Which could be attributed solely to her and her thousands of schedules and planners, along with the fact that she checked the weather almost religiously and the tide predictions. Adrien just bankrolled most of the thing, which worked well enough seeing as he was the head of a multi-billion-dollar fashion house and she was an up-and-coming designer with an Etsy shop focusing on affordable fashion for normal people. Sure, he insisted on a few things, such as not using the Couffaine’s houseboat (He’d actually tried to argue against a boat entirely) or serving shots with Kim and Alix finally reuniting at this party—But most of it could be attributed to her.
She was pretty sure that was him trying to please her, to play nice after that disastrous night outside the bakery. He was avoiding her as much as possible, and any time he was faced with her he resolved the tension by agreeing to her as much as possible.
He was capable of learning, she supposed.
Marinette stood to the side of the bar as the boat they road on bobbed upwards and downwards, a hand braced on the counter and a glass of water that had she poured into a wineglass in the other. She hadn’t admitted to anyone, but she had a habit of getting seasick. The dim lighting of the fairy lights twinkling overhead combined with the loud pounding of music did a good job of hiding that.
She gave a small, weak smile as she looked out to her friends on the dance floor, some of them being people who she hadn’t seen for far longer than Adrien. Kim and Alix were locked in an exaggerated slow dance that had the two cackling, Juleka and Rose had stolen away to a corner, and Sabrina was excitedly explaining her business as a personal assistant to anyone who would listen. It’d been a long time since she’d seen them all, and it made her sentimental. She rarely saw anyone outside of Alya and Nino now.
“Makes you nostalgic, huh?” A deep, familiar voice asked her, obviously having slid in beside her at the bar at some point.
The side of her mouth tugged harder, and that nauseous feeling in her stomach momentarily left her. She let her blue eyes drift over, practically beaming as she took him in. “Luka Couffaine,” she said. A part of her wondered if he would come.
His long, shaggy blue hair and sharp eyes were now the highlight of the evening. Or almost the highlight. “Marinette,” he said, “fancy meeting you here.”
“Oh yes,” Marinette agreed, “it’s shocking for the maid of honor to be at the Bachelorette party.”
“Well, when she’s got a problem with the best man,” Luka began.
Marinette shot him a look. “Be quiet, someone could hear you.”
“I think everyone would have to be blind not to know,” Luka said, leaning against the bar beside her. She knew where he was looking, who he was watching. Yet, despite that, he said, “a part of me always hoped it would be us out there. Doing all of this.”
Her smile fell. “But you’re happy now?”
“Immensely,” he confirmed, and one look at his face reaffirmed that. He was still watching, still taking it all in. If her eyes traveled to the same place, she could do it too. She could look at Adrien Agreste and wonder how everything got so utterly awful. “I knew it wouldn’t be us, Marinette. We weren’t those type of people.”
“The type of people to get married?”
“The type of people to fit together without any gaps,” he explained. “No room for concern, no regrets.”
She sighed. There was more to it, of course. There was so much more to everything, like the fact that she could never do it, never give herself completely to Luka. She was always waiting, lingering in hallways at the slightest flash of the right shade of blond, and hearing familiar laughter in the silence.
She loved Luka, but she was always wanting. She needed Chat, she needed Adrien, she needed whatever form of him he would give her—
“You still love him, don’t you?” Luka asked. It was a stupid question. She’d seen Adrien six times since he came back, and half of those moments were in passing. Any rational person would say no, only crazy romantics would say yes.
So, she stayed silent.
“I want you to be happy,” Luka said finally, and it was a bucket of cold water poured on her. A reminder of reality, of where she was now, and a rush of that seasickness back to her gut. But when he said it, there was that hint of leftover desire, that underlying subtext that there was a hole in his heart, and it would always be there for her.
And the cold understanding that she never made a groove in her heart for him.
She turned to look at him, only to find him gone.
And with that came sickness.
Awful, churning sickness. A vile wave of nausea that assaulted her stomach. The boat lurched, and with it, so did she.
My god, she was going to die.
Marinette Dupain Cheng, beloved daughter and friend. Died of seasickness because of her own poor choices while planning a party to celebrate her friends’ upcoming wedding.
She threw her head back with another large wave, her eyes watering as she fought the overwhelming urge to die. Lila Rossi was at the party, slithering onto the guest list with a perfectly timed apology to Alya about an awful Instagram post. If Marinette turned any greener she was sure she’d be on Rossi’s snapchat story, paired with a caption questioning why exactly the poor girl was so sick. Another pregnancy rumor.
She grimaced at the thought and nearly fell to her knees as another wave jostled her. Luckily, a hand caught her before she could fall, the warmth of a thick blazer spread across her shoulders and distracted her momentarily.
“And this,” said a voice as she was hauled back onto her feet, “is why I argued against the boat.”
She turned both quickly and unsteadily, catching a mixture of blond and green before, unfortunately, practically falling against it.
She could have done worse.
She could have done much worse.
Such as vomiting on his Burberry jacket or ruining his Chanel shoes.
Adrien’s arms caught her easily, hooking underneath her armpits and hauling her upwards once more. “I’d make a joke about you falling for me, but all things considered… I’d say you’re sick of me.”
Badum tss.
Marinette groaned, resting her forehead against his chest only because it was the main thing keeping the rest of the world from overwhelming her. “Were your jokes always this stupid?”
“Things seem a lot funnier when you’re madly in love,” he said, and she made sure to fire back a glare in response. “That’s good,” he said with an air of authority when she looked at him, “eyes on me, focus on the conversation instead of the waves.”
“Can I have a different conversation partner?” she fired back.
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head at her as he kept a hand braced on her back, the other braced on her shoulder to keep her upright. “Do you want someone else to know you’re sick?” He asked, “because I guarantee Alya and Nino will hear.”
Ugh.
“We’re going to get you inside,” Adrien decided, evidently having spotted a door back into the cabin.
“And then?” She asked, she didn’t see how that would help.
“And then I’ll stay by you in case it all goes south, and you can play YouTube videos on my phone to distract you for another hour or two until Alya goes looking for you. Then you’ll take some selfies, come back, and we’ll wash, rinse, and repeat.”
Marinette wrinkled her nose. “I don’t trust you to stay anywhere, Agreste.”
He flinched. “Okay, fair, but… I’m your only option here so,” he tilted his head at her, looking down as he withdrew his hand from her waist only to offer it to her again. “Either you take my hand and we go, or I leave you here at the mercy of the Seine, which seems to be in quite the mood today.”
He had a point.
“Fine,” she said, slapping her hand into his. “I’ll sit next to you, but I will not talk to you. Don’t expect a miraculous turn around.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I hope you know that nearly every YouTube recommendation of yours being highlight reels of Ladybug and Chat Noir is not endearing,” Marinette informed Adrien, “it makes you look self-obsessed.”
“It’s not every YouTube recommendation,” Adrien scoffed, moving beside her to point at his screen. “See? Anime.”
“Top ten anime waifus?” Marinette read out, shooting him a look.
“You know that’s not what it says,” he responded, yet she couldn’t help but note the way that he took a second look as if making sure.
They were on the ground in the cabin of the boat, nearest the hallway where the kitchens and bathroom were. Adrien was the one to declare that the safest, a place where she could get water if needed, and if worse came…
“When will this finally pass,” Marinette asked yet again as she let herself fall onto her back, she’d repeated the question with every single video finished, but her impatience continued to grow.
And he repeated the same answer, “in four hours when the boat finally docks and we end up on dry land.”
Four hours.
“You were never good in the water,” he said, “and this is coming from the guy dressed like a cat.”
She glared, slapping his thigh. “When this boat lands, the truce ends.”
His smile faltered at that, and he let himself sink down onto the ground beside her, his eyes trained towards the ceiling.
This had a time limit; all of this had a time limit. Even she had almost forgotten that. Because eventually the wedding would end, eventually there would be no more forced interactions, eventually he would go home. Eventually she would go back to her life and wonder the same damn question.
“Why weren’t you there that night?” There was no gracefulness to how it was presented, it merely clattered from her like a knife falling from a kitchen table. It was heavy and loaded, the kind of question that you swallowed down every time you saw someone, not the type that you lobbed out when you were laying side by side and wishing it had been like this so many other times.
She could feel his eyes on her.
“I…” he began, but whatever he meant to say was a false start. He swallowed the letter and tried again. “I don’t…” Know? Care? Want to talk about this?
Why did she care anymore?
What would it change?
Nothing.
“I was scared,” he said finally.
“Okay,” she said.
And that was that. That should have been that. That should have been her hint, her great sign.
“Why?”
And with that single word he rose to his forearms, looking over at her. He was in her field of vision, where she couldn’t ignore him. A hint of pink graced the edge of his green eyes, but his lips were set in an almost determined look, and she wondered if he would stumble over his words again.
“My father was just arrested for being Hawk Moth, my mother was found in my basement, I lost the only home I ever knew to police investigations, and suddenly guardians were at my door asking for Plagg—all in one day. Choose a reason, Marinette.” It wasn’t vile, it wasn’t angry, it wasn’t even cold. She didn’t know how to describe it.
“You disappeared.”
“I couldn’t stand to be in Paris any longer.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“What would I say?!” He replied, his voice loud, far louder than he obviously intended. He flinched as it echoed through the air, and suddenly she was all knives and anger.
“Hello Marinette,” she responded, “or should I say Ladybug, the girl I’ve claimed to be in love with for six years! It’s been great, a fun time and all, but man am I tired—see you in three years without a single message! Good luck wondering if it’s because of you, if you being the girl behind the mask is what changed it all, even though the only difference was one scrap of red fabric!” She glared, sitting up, “Miss. You.”
“You think that’s how it was?” He began, his eyebrows narrowed as he raised from his arms, his eyes staring holes into hers. “I told you…”
“You’d love whoever was behind the mask,” she finished, pushing off of the ground. “But let’s be honest here—Not Lila, not Chloe, and not me. Never me.” She stumbled to her feet, gripping the wall as she finally stood. “I told you who I was, and you were terrified! I saw it, I knew! I should have known why—"
“Because you’re you, because you’re Marinette, because you’re--” he was scrambling to his feet, scrambling to keep her there, scrambling to make some sort of sense.
“Because I’m Marinette?” She repeated, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to hear the mistake. To know that she was right, that this was all some stupid curse put upon her by a universe that would thankfully, in a month’s time, solve the situation.
“That’s not—Jesus Christ, I—”
He didn’t need to say more.
She began to walk away, to risk the treacherous river waves. Anything was better than this, anyone was better than him—
“Because you’re perfect,” he called before she could even begin to walk out that stupid door, and every cell in her body stopped moving. “Because you’re pretty and you’re kind. Because you have a perfect family and everyone loves you, Nino loves you, Alya loves you, I—” He thought better of saying whatever came next there. “Because you were going to be a fashion designer, and the best one anyone’s ever seen. Because you try to be good to everyone you meet. Because at the end of the day you’ll always be good, too good for me, and I’m…”
“You’re,” she was surprised that she asked it, that she could process anything.
And there was a pause, a long, heavy one. One where anything, any combination of words could go wrong.
“Because people would see you walking beside me, and you would still be good, and you would still be kind and you would still be gentle; but they’d see none of that. Because they’d look over and see me. They’d see what my father made and what my father ruined.” Quietly, he confessed, “you would be perfect and none of that would matter, because they’d look over and see Hawkmoth’s son.”
81 notes · View notes
shedobewritingtho · 4 years ago
Text
To the stars - Park Jinyoung
! nsfw - smut !
2,9 k
Big thanks to @ihateeveryone2021 for requesting this prompt and also for having patience with me all this time. Enjoy reading it!
**also this needs editing and a "read more", I'm mentioning this because I know I have to include this, and for that I'll be back later. Thanks for your patience! 💕
Tumblr media
"Come on, you have to be active in order to learn how to use it properly." Bambam whines while taking Jinyoung"s phone in order to show him how reels work. "I know you are a bit older but I was not expecting you to act as if you were born in the past century."
"Give it back." Jinyoung says on a pouty tone, while reaching out and snatching his phone out of his friend's hand. "I don't need your help if you're going to insult me."
"Well good luck then!" his friend answers while laughing. "You better be coming with me this weekend, I have already bought two tickets."
"Yeah, whatever." the elder says while focusing on his phone.
Bambam's love for fashion was a good excuse for the two to go out and have some fun. There was this upcoming runway show they wanted to attend and it was getting closer and closer, making Bambam act like the fake maknae he is out of excitement.
On the other hand, Jinyoung was getting really bored and thought that a good way to promote himself would be social media, the tool everyone uses lately. There was one problem though. He never found too much interest in this before so he was not the most skilled influencer on the platform. His picture-taking skills were not bad, but when it came to selfies, the poor boy had to try hard. Posting was not a pleasure either, the descriptions not making any sense in his opinion and the commands on instagram not being really easy to follow.
So here comes the deal: Jinyoung agreed to go with Bambam on this runway show as long as Bambam would help him learn how to use instagram and other social media. A deal hard to keep when his friend was getting annoyed at his lack of skill.
After giving it some thought, Jinyoung decided against dissapointing his friend, although the instagram skill-learning process was now a solo battle. So here they were, on a saturday evening, ready to attend this big runway show. At least Jinyoung was ready. Bambam was fashionably late, as always, so his friend was now texting him not very cute invitations.
"I should've known he would be late. Ah, sh*t. He's got both tickets. Amazing." Jinyoung mutters to himself while waiting in front of the big building. Even from outside, everything looked shiny and expensive, as expected. People were entering the building in a calm, calculated manner, no hustle. Everyone was dressed nice and had an exquisite aura. Jinyoung really loved the place, even from outside, so he had a really good idea: what about trying to take a really cool selfie there? The lights were amazing and everyone seemed to think the same.
He took his phone out of his pocket, looked for the instagram app and, after a few taps, he managed to open the app's camera. Here comes the hard part. Jinyoung extends his arm in order to include in the picture the amazing background he had. Because of his poor skills, though, he finds himself stumbling and moving a bit around, trying to get the perfect picture. While taking a step back, he bumps into someone.
"I'm so sorry." he manages to speak after meeting your eyes. You give him a kind and reassuring look.
"No problem, you seem to struggle a bit with that phone." you say chuckling.
"This selfie is harder to take than I thought. I wanted the nice background in the picture, but it seems I was a little bit to greedy, right?" he defends himself while laughing too.
"Mmm, don't think so. Here, let me help." you say while taking his phone. You position the camera in a way that includes everything in frame: Jinyoung, the background and yourself. "Smile. Or pose." you say and then press the button, taking a gorgeous picture.
"Woah, you are good." he exhales while relaxing from the stiff position he was in while the picture was taken. "Thank you so much."
"My pleasure. Here, post it." you say while giving the phone back, then take a quick look at your wristwatch. Another minute and you were late. "I'm sorry, but I have to go." is all you manage to scream while running inside leaving Jinyoung confused.
"Goodbye to you too I guess." he says while following you with his gaze, only now noticing that you were entering the building without the guards checking your ticket. "Now how do I post it?" Jinyoung sighs while tapping again, succeeding right when Bambam came.
"Sorry I'm late Nyoung." he says while hugging Jinyoung's arm.
"Okay, I forgive you. Stop it with the cutesy stuff." the elder says while struggling to get the younger one off his arm.
After admiring the building from the outside, Jinyoung had to admit that the inside was at a whole next level. It perfectly fitted his taste, it was a delight. Shortly after the show started, Jinyoung notices a familiar face walking down the runway stage. Your outfit was one of the most beautiful he had ever seen and your make up was suble, but it revealed your beautiful features. There was a shine all over your body that made you look ethereal. The way the reflector's light fell on your shiny pieces of clothing. He was amazed, looking up at your every step, feeling like in a trance. Everything made sense now, how you approached him out of nowhere and offered to help take a selfie. More than that, you allowed him to post a picture that showed your face without a doubt. Were you expecting him to recognize you? That was confusing.
As you make your way to the backstage, Jinyoung takes his phone out to check on the notifications  which, speaking of, were blowing up. It didn't take him much reading to discover that he has just posted a casual selfie with the hottest model right before you went on stage. Everyone was praising your looks and saying how well your face complimented his. "Jinyoung and Y/N in the same picture? Now my life is complete.", "I didn't know GOT7's Jinyoung is friend with Y/N *shocked face*", "They really look good in this picture." were only a few comments he read before shoving the phone back into his pocket. The rest of the show he spent zoning out while thinking about your looks, wishing you would walk in front of him at least one more time, but you didn't.
"A few days ago you didn't know how to access the search tab and now you just won't stop typing. I'm shocked." Bambam teases his friend.
"Thanks for teaching me." Jinyoung responds without taking his eyes off his phone.
"Okay, I'll go say hi to some friends. Do you want to meet them or I should let you have a few moments alone with that phone?"
"I'll wait here."
How come no verified account shows up when he searches your name? Is there any possibility you don't have an account? No way, you knew exactly how to use instagram earlier and for sure a model like you has to have an account. He just didn't know how to find you. He decided he should look for you in person while still being there. As soon as Bambam came back he asked about you, but no idea. The security guards then said you left early due to an emergency.
"But why are you so eager to find Y/N?" Bambam protests while following his friend through the fancy dressed crowd. "I mean I saw that face so I understand." he then laughs to himself.
Jinyoung stops in front of the building. "Check your instagram." is all he says and the boy opens his app to find the most recent post right on top of his feed. You and Jinyoung smiling right in the same spot they're on right now.
"Oh." silence."I didn't know you knew Y/N."
"I don't, really. I mean I didn't. I don't even know how to find Y/N's instagram account." Jinyoung sighs after his agitated speech.
"I don't know either, Jinyoung. I would've helped you if I knew, sorry." Bambam pats his friend on the back, giving him a sad look.
***
A few weeks passed and Jinyoung gave up trying to find your account. He posted two more pictures and his fans were now focused on the chemistry he had with Youngjae's beloved dog, Coco. It was as if it never happened, except there was a picture he had posted as evidence of a moment so short it meant nothing.
The boys have just finished practice on a thursday evening when Jinyoung's phone started blowing up with notifications again. As soon as he checks it, he finds his dm flooded with links to an instagram live. He opens the most recent one and reads "Oppa, look! Y/N mentioned you!!". A hot shiver goes through his body as he taps on your face on the screen. "Lueur? What's with this name?"
"It's french." Mark whispers. "It's not a name, Jinyoung." he points out the obvious.
"Since when do you know french?" is his defense. "Anyway thanks. I'll leave first." is the last they hear from Jinyoung as he takes his stuff and leaves.
No patience was as big as his curiosity about your ongoing instagram livestream, so he didn't even bother to drive back home. After throwing his backpack in the backseat, Jinyoung opened your live. You were casually chatting with your fans while relaxing in what looked like a hotel room. As soon as everyone saw he had joined watching the live, the whole comment section was filled with Jinyoung's name. You immediately said hi.
It did not take much for him to panic. As soon as he heard your voice saying his name, he became clumsy. All he wanted to do is to salute, but a few taps on the screen led to "@lueur0 invited you to join their live broadcast!" displaying on his device. He quickly accepted without giving it much tought, but regretted as soon as the screen split in two and showed your face on top and darkness on the bottom part.
"I'm sorry, I'm in the car. Let me turn some lights on." he says with an embarrassed face, being grateful that nobody can actually see him.
As soon as the light makes his features visible, you smile. "Good to see you again. I wasn't expecting you to join my live."
"Ah yeah, that.. I thought I could say a proper hi."
"I'm glad you did." you stop and check the number of views. "Woah the audience has doubled up." you laugh again. "Wow, Jinyoung. Check the comments!"
No reaction for a few seconds as Jinyoung was still analyzing the way his name came out of your mouth. Love at first sight was a lie in his opinion, but what about attraction at the third sight? He couldn't really put his finger on what made him feel like this. Was it your smile? Your laugh? The way you said his name? Your looks? Your kind and laid back vibe? Maybe all of them really. There was no doubt, Jinyoung was enjoying his time on your live and like that both of you told the story of your first encounter, him not bothering to leave the parking lot.
After the live was over, you were not surprised to find out that he followed and texted you as soon as he got home. You followed him back, answer his dm and like that, you spent the whole night talking. The more you talked, the more you felt like you knew each other since forever so you promised to meet up as soon as you returned from a business trip.
***
As you check youself in the mirror, fixing a strand of hair that was not sitting where it was supposed to, you hear your phone ringing and know immediately it is Jinyoung.
"I'm in front, you can come." his calm voice welcomes you.
"I'll be there in a minute." you say as you grab your keys, exit your apartment and lock the door. Right after leaving the building, you notice an amazing black shiny car waiting for you. Jinyoung gets out and the big smile on his face makes you feel safe.
It has already been a few weeks since the live stream and since then you've been talking almost everyday. It was easy to get in touch, as you exchanged phone numbers and both had days when you were so busy  you forgot about even having a phone. You get to know each other well and it was not really hard. Although he seemed a little bit shy or reserved at first and knowing his rigid approach on social media before, you were really happy to see how much he enjoyed talking to you.
"Hi." you salute with a smile as big as his and he responds while opening the door for you.
The ride was chill, his driving skills made you feel safe once again and the lights of the night life in the city were perfect. You two decided to dine at a fancy restaurant.
"I can't believe we've both been here before so often but never bumped into each other." you laugh and take sip of water.
"I don't know about you, but I felt like I had seen you before." Jinyoung states and he makes you think about the first time you met months ago, at your modelling show.
"Yeah, that's why you looked so confused when we took that photo." you attack.
"I was not expecting you to do it, that's why." he defends himself. "Ah." you hear Jinyoung say as he winces. "There is something I've always wanted to ask you but never remembered to."
You give him a curious look and nod your head as a sign that you are ready to answer. He then proceeds. "What does your instagram name come from?"
You chuckle. "Well.. I've always wanted to shine, no modesty about it. I always wear the most luminous piece when going on the stage, I am known for looking good in those so I chose lueur. It's a french word that means glimmer, glow and yeah, I know it's not used too much nowadays, but I loved the way it is pronounced. As for the 0, it was the only number I thought looked okay with the word, nothing special." you conclude with a shrug.
"Ohh." he says with an impressed face, you smile. "I agree with that." he stops and looks out the window. "I've got an idea that goes perfectly with your lueur."
You both had finished eating so, after paying, you get into his car, the impatience making you shift in your seat. After what it felt like 10 minutes of driving, you arrive near a stadion.
"Are we there?" you ask, trying to hide the surprise in your voice with a cough.
"Yes." is all Jinyoung says right before pressing a button that makes the roof of the car open, exposing to your eyes a sky so clear you can see every little star. "Cliché, but they remind me of you." he says while staring in your eyes.
You feel his eyes all over you and when they finally meet yours, your whole body reacts to it. His gaze turns dark, you know he feels it too. Why are you only now noticing how his lips look? The tension is so thick between you two, it can be only ripped with physical touch. So that's what you do.
You crash into each other's lips, kissing as if you craved it for way too long. Everything is so intense you don't even realise how loud you are moaning when his lips touch your neck. Every piece of clothing that came between you was taken off one by one until you were both naked. You sit on top of him, with your back pressed on the steering wheel, kissing patches on his collarbone, then going lower, on his nipples. You suck and slightly bite them, enjoying every little moan he lets out. He grabs your waist and lifts you, placing you right on top of him. He then tries to thrust inside you but you lift yourself even higher.
"No babe. Let me do it." you say placing a hand on his chest. Your eyes are glued on his as your palm goes lower and lower until you can feel him in your hand. You smirk then rub and sqeeze it lightly, then position yourself over it. You place both your hands  on the roof of the car and slowly go down, hissing through your teeth. You keep going in and out at the same pace, savouring the hunger in his eyes.
His hands grab on your hips and push you down, filling you completely. You faintly scream at the sudden movement and grab one of his nipples, slowly twisting it while going up and down on his lenght. "I said let me do it, Jinyoung." you whisper at his ear. "Tonight I'll shine on you, okay?" you keep whispering going faster and faster. His hands are going up and down your back, grabbing your ass, while kissing your neck and breasts until you come. After that, you go faster, messing with his hair, leaving kisses and moans all over his skin. He starts thrusting inside you harder, but you don't even care anymore. By the time both of you come, you're covered in sweat and collapse over him on his seat, hardly catching your breath.
"Damn it, Y/N."
73 notes · View notes
sherrybaby14 · 5 years ago
Text
Moral of the Story
Summary:  Steve’s girl likes to party all the time and he’s at his wit’s end.  Then he meets you.
Pairing:  Steve Rogers x female reader.
Warnings:  Alcohol, Smut, ANGST
Words:  5k
A/N:  This is for the wonderful @captain-rogers-beard​ challenge. Congrats Doll!  My prompt was “Party all the Time” by Eddie Murphy.
   The music was a bit louder than you would have liked, but at least the song was catchy.   You sipped on your drink as you watched the dance floor, your friend’s waving you over.  
   With a smirk you shook your head and lifted your drink, far too sober to dance.
   “I think they want you to join them?”  A voice boomed in your ear.
Tumblr media
   You did a jump as you turned to see a gorgeous blonde next to you.  
   “I don’t want to spill my drink.”  You ran your hands down your now wet dress.
   “Oh Jeez, I’m so sorry ma’am.”  He reached for some cocktail napkins. “Let me buy you another.”
   “It’s okay.”  You began to pat your dress dry.  “It’s probably better on my clothes than down my throat.  I don’t drink often.”
   “Me either.”  He gave a warm smile.  
   “Then why are you in a nightclub?”  You turned to the bar, trying to block out the loud music and not have to yell so much. “Here to pick up women?”
   “A friend invited me.”  His gaze went to the dance floor.
   You followed it and saw he was looking at a dark haired man.  You couldn’t see his face because it was being covered by a gorgeous brunette.  She pulled away and you blinked a few times, she had to be a model, a perfect ten.  
   “I think your friend is going to get lucky.”  You turned back to see his jaw clench up.  
   “Yeah, it looks like it.”  He looked away, there was a pain in his eyes.  “If I can’t buy you a new drink how about a cup of coffee?”  
   “Oh, I don’t think they sell coffee here.”  You shrugged.
   He erupted in laughter and you glanced around, not noticing the punch line.  
   “There’s a diner a block away.”  He leaned against the bar.  “Open twenty four hours.  I know I’m a stranger, but I could get out of here and by the looks of it so could you.”  
   “I’m game.”  You put your glass on the bar and started walking to the door.  
   “I’m Steve by the way.”  He held out his hand.  
   “I know who you are.”  You smiled.  “I think the whole world knows who you are.”  
   A confused look spread across his face.  The brisk nighttime air made your arm get some goosebumps, but you let out a sigh of relief when the music died down.  
   “That’s not the reaction I get from most people who know who I am.”  Steve grabbed his chin.  “Maybe I should grow a beard again.”  
   “Would you rather I asked for an autograph and a selfie?”  You raised an eyebrow, then put the back of your hand to your forehead.  “Oh Captain my Captain?”
   “Alright, I get it.”  Steve laughed.  “So what’s your story?  I guess your the one whose the stranger here.”
   “It’s not like I know everything about you, just the headlines.”  You winked.  “Workaholic, I love my job, it keeps me busy.  In my free time I do the basics,  read, watch movies, attempt and fail at the newest workout craze.”  
   “Pilates man.”  Steve pulled the diner door open.  “It’s a lot harder than it looks.”
   “I fall in every yoga position.”  You followed Steve as he slid into a booth.  “Zumba was fun, but I’m lacking in rhythm.”  
   “You?”  Steve’s eyes went wide.  “You look like you would be a great dancer.”
   “I’m great at a lot of things.”  You flipped over your mug.  “But bad at more.”  
   “I’m really bad at board games.  I flipped the board last time I played Monopoly.”  Steve leaned back in the booth.  “But I am amazing at tic-tac-toe.”  
   “Oh yeah?”  You reached in your purse and pulled out a pen, drawing the lines on a napkin.  “Prove it?”
~~
“Even with all this coffee and stimulating conversation.”  You brought your hand to your mouth to stifle the yawn.  “Exhaustion is setting in.  I’ve got to get to bed.”
“How far do you live from here?”  Steve reached for his wallet.  “It’s almost 4 am.  Can I walk you home?”  
“Four am?”  You hadn’t checked your phone since you told your friends you were safe after vanishing, that was five hours ago.  
Sure enough the device read 3:56.  
“Damn.”  You grabbed a menu.  “Might as well order breakfast then.”  
Steve looked shocked, but then nodded in agreement, not pulling a menu. The server took notice and came over.  
“I’ll have a meat lovers skillet, side of country gravy, sub American cheese, eggs over easy, wheat toast?”  You but the menu back.  
“I’ll have the same.”  Steve leaned forward.
“Really?” The waitress was confused. “Not the usual?”
“I’m being adventurous tonight.”  Steve winked.  
“Okay.”  She walked away.
“I like the way you know what you want.”  Steve leaned back.  “Kind of no nonsense.  It’s refreshing.”  
“I wouldn’t say that.”  You laughed.  “Maybe when it comes to diner food at 4 am.  I’ve been eating my whole life after all.”  
“So why isn’t there anyone special in your life?”  Steve almost seemed fidgety.  
“There’s lots of special people in my life.”  You smiled.  “I’m very close with my parents, my siblings, have some great friends I’d call family, my coworkers are amazing too.”
“That’s not what I meant.”  Steve’s eyes showed a strange wave of vulnerability.  
“No reason.”  You wished you had a better answer.  “I’ve dated plenty, had some serious partners, some not so serious.  I guess I’m picky? What about you?”
“The friend who invited me to the club tonight, it was the girl.”  Steve gave a pressed smile.  “We were very serious, she broke it off about two months ago.  Wanted to try being friends.  I agreed to give it a go.  I don’t see how it’s going to work.”  
The perfect 10 brunette.  Your heart started to ache for the man.  He was heartbroken.  It was all over his face, body language.  Everything clicked.  
“What a bitch.”  You brought your hand to your mouth and looked at him with wide eyes.  
He laughed and you relaxed.
“There you go, being honest and direct again.”  Steve put his elbows on the table.  “I don’t think people can be friends with exes.  It’s not in the cards.”  
“I’ve never tried.”  You were more of the it’s done it’s done type.  “My philosophy is look forward.  The future.  Thinking about the past, it’s a dangerous trap.”  
“I’m starting to think the same thing.”  Steve’s eyes lit up.  “She is a big party girl, I mean, she’s a model so sometimes its a networking thing.  But I never really fit into her life.”  
“Wait, were you guys like a tabloid couple?”  You tilted your head. “Can I read all about your breakup on instagram?”  
“No!” Steve rolled his eyes.  “That was part of the problem.  I think she wanted that.  Being with me could elevate her career and it made me feel used, so I wouldn’t allow public photos. There’s a few that leaked, but nothing confirming our relationship.”
“Wow, you celebrities are a different breed.”  It never once crossed your mind to post about who you were having coffee with.
“I am not a celebrity.”  Steve wagged a finger at you.  
“Oh I’m sorry.”  You brought your hand to your chest.  “Historical figure.”
Steve cracked up.  His laugh was infectious and you joined, chuckling away.  
“Without being too forward young lady,” Steve reached out and grabbed your hand, sparks shooting down your arm.  “Could I have your telephone number?”  
You knew he was bating you for a joke.  But you preferred the natural type.  
“Yes.”  You reached for your phone, breaking the hand touch.  “You can have my number.”
~~
Noon hit and you forced yourself out of bed, six hours of sleep was doable.  You began to make your mental checklist of projects for the day while you brushed your teeth.  
There was a giddy ness in the back of your mind over last night.  He was a cool guy and it was a fun time.  Your brain started to think about work.  You had to call your parents and check in, probably explain to your friends about where you went, you would leave out the Captain America angle.  
You grabbed your phone and your jaw about hit the floor.  There was a text from Steve already.  
Are you going to say good morning?  
You didn’t think you would hear from him for at least a few days.  It made you smile and wiggle as you sat on the bed.  
Good morning!  Or afternoon?  
Before you set the device down the reply bubbles started to form.   You parted ways seven hours ago.  It was a Saturday.  This was unexpected.   The bubbles disappeared and then reappeared several times.   You were on the edge of your seat.  
Then your phone started to vibrate.  You almost threw the thing, seeing Steve’s name pop up. Instead your smile grew as you slid it to answer.
“Was good afternoon not appropriate?  Technically it’s 12:15, that is literally after noon.”  You tried to stifle the excitement.
“You want to have a beer with me tonight?”  Steve’s voice was just as sexy over the phone.  “I would say dinner, but I know you had some things to take care of.  There’s this sports bar I love,  I promise I won’t spill anything on you and coffee keeps us up too late.”  
“I’d love to.”  You didn’t see a point in trying to act coy.  
“Great, nine o’clock?  I’ll text you the address.”  Steve’s smile carried over the phone.  
“Sounds like a plan.”  You ran your hand over your hair and wondered if you could get away without washing it.  
“Have a great day.  I”ll see you tonight.”  
“Bye.”  You clicked off the phone and did a little happy dance.  
You didn’t see that one coming.  
Your phone lit up with Steve’s message right away.  You sent a thumbs up emoji.  To your surprise, Steve responded:
Emojis, it’s like hyrogliphics are coming back?  Why did we skip the sonnets?
You didn’t even think before responding.
You: Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s Day?  Thou art more lovely and temperate.  
Steve: Sonnet 18, one of the greats.
You: I stole it from Clueless.  
Steve: What’s Clueless?
~~
You woke the next morning, at your normal 8 am.  Even more thrilled with the date from the night before.   It was fun.  It was a fantastic time.  Of course the texting all day long made the conversation flow right to person-to-person.  
“I can’t sleep until noon tomorrow.”  You stood up from the bar stool.  “Plus I hit my three beer maximum.  Maybe once I know you better you can meet four beer me.”  
“You’re guarded in the strangest ways.”  Steve beamed at you.  
“Me?”  You were shocked.  “I’m an open book. Nothing to hide.”
“Well would this bother you then?”  Steve cupped your cheek and before you could react his face leaned in.
Warm lips met yours.  You melted into him, your body felt like it was floating.  Nobody in the bar paid you any attention as his tongue slid into your mouth before pulling out.  A little moan came forward when he pulled away.  
There was a devilish grin on his face as he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.  
“Let’s get you an Uber.”  
All you could do was nod in a numb state.  This amazing man kissed you.  It was like a dream.  
You were all smiles as you rolled out of bed, straight to the bathroom.  Sundays were your lazy day, but you missed too much yesterday that you had to squeeze some work in.  It wouldn’t be too much.  
When you left the bathroom you grabbed your phone.  Your heart exploded when you saw there was already a text from Steve.  
Today you can say good morning.  I have faith.  
~~
Steve Rogers was perfect.  Three dates in a week, not including coffee night.  Every other day he wanted to see you.  He made you laugh, listened to you, was always available.  Sent you little comics you found funny.   You giggled at the last gif he sent you of a puppy eating bubble.
You: I’ve got to head into a work meeting.  I’ll text you later.  
Steve: Knock ‘em dead.  
Supportive too.  You smiled as you slipped your phone into your pocket.  It had only been a week, but you couldn’t remember the last time you connected with someone this way, if ever.
“You’re smiley.”  A coworker bumped you with her arm.  “It’s almost like you have a glow.”
“Just a happy person.”  You shrugged.  “How is your son doing? Any luck on that math test?”
“Oh he did much better!”  Your coworker dropped her shoulders in relief.  “That tutor was worth every penny.”
She continued to talk and you tried to listen, but your thoughts kept drifting to Steve.  This was the best week of your life.
~~
The meeting got your adrenaline pumping.  You left and went straight to your office, typing away the e-mails, ready to get the new project off the ground.   It was almost time to call it a day, the sun was starting to set.  
That was when you picked up your phone.  Two messages from Steve.  Fuck.  Guilt set in.  
How was the meeting?  
Everything okay?
You grabbed your phone and started typing.
You: Sorry work got crazy.  Major project.  Just leaving now.  
Steve: Do you want to over to my place for dinner?  Unwind?  I can have a meal and some wine for you, straight away?  
Unwinding with Steve sounded perfect, plus you were more interested in the version that didn’t involve a meal.  
You looked down at your work clothes, your makeup probably long smeared off,  but did that matter?  Steve didn’t seem to care about your appearance.  He wanted you for who you were.   And right now that sounded perfect.
You: Do you have ice cream?  
Steve: Oh my freezer is overflowing.  Any flavor you like.  Popsicles too.  
You: I’m in.  Text me your address?  
~~
Every other time you arrived at a paramour’s place for the first time you were nervous.  Not this time.  Your brain played a slide show of the last week.  The way Steve listened, hung on your words, followed up with questions.  He made you feel like the most important person in the world.  
Your past experiences taught you that people were either fantastic talkers or listeners.  You prided yourself on being both, but Steve seemed to fall in that same category.  
With a strange confidence you hit the buzzer for his apartment.  The door unlocked and you walked up the stairs, speeding up with each step.  
When you got to his floor you spotted him hanging out the door, waving at you.  This was going to be the hard part.  
“Before I step inside, I have to let you know something.”  You rehearsed this in your head a few times.  “Work was insane today, and I know tomorrow is Saturday, but I have to put in a few hours.  This happens about twice a year, not a common occurrence.  But as much as I want to, I can’t spend the night.”  
“Okay.” Steve nodded and held the door open.  “Again I love your honesty.”  
You walked in to see all the only lights on in the apartment two candles on the clothed kitchen table.  Your heart started to sink at the thought he’d put into it, but then you noticed the meal set out at each end and began to laugh.  
“Full disclosure,  all I had was some TV dinners.”  Steve came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.  “And there’s no ice cream or popsicles.  But I can think of something I want for dessert.”
You spun around and put your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.   He reached underneath you and scooped you up.  You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you, deepening the kiss.  
Nothing had ever felt so right in your life.  It was as if the cosmos had brought you together.  
“You’re too perfect.”  You pulled away as he dropped you on the bed.  
“You’re a one-in-a-million.”  Steve’s breath was heavy as he started to pull at your clothing.  
Hands were everywhere, lips randomly touching whatever skin they could.  Shoes and socks flying off with pants and shirts.  You shoved his boxers down as he unhooked your bra, the feeling of your bare chests pushed together making you shudder.  
Steve grabbed your panties and yanked them down as you settled back on his bed.  On your back, legs spread, knees up.  His arm encircled your thigh as he began to kiss.  You moaned and fisted the blanket, lifting your pelvis up inviting his mouth.  
He wasted no time and began to devour you. You tried to pay attention to what he was doing, but you couldn’t keep up.  Was that his tongue? His lips?  You cried out when something slid inside of you.  
“FUCK!”  Your body convulsed around his mouth.  
Your chest heaved while your brain tried to keep up with the pleasure.  Steve kept licking, touching, working you.  Everything was frenzied.   Your head collapsed to the side and you tried to regain control.  
“I knew you were primed.”  Steve kissed up your stomach.  “But you have one more in you.”  
He climbed until he was over you, his cock lining up with your entrance.  Never had you came that fast from another person.
Steve pushed forward and filled your aching pussy.  You squealed and grabbed onto his shoulders.   Rolling your body against his.  
“That’s it.”  He nipped at your neck.  “You were meant for me.  Never felt this way before.”  
You grabbed his face and pulled his lips to your own, enjoying the taste of yourself on him while he railed into you.  He returned the kiss and sped up.  Slamming his cock, teasing your clit while your g-spot came to life.  
There was no hiding your moans and his grunts as your bodies melded together.   Your breath started to tighten, and then your muscles started.  The edge came fast and you flung yourself over.  
Your head went back into the pillow as your screamed,  it was impossible to tell if your vision went black since the room was too dark.  But Steve let out a grunt and pulled out of you.
Instead of blowing all over your stomach he pushed your head down.  You slid down the bed and opened your mouth.  
His aim was perfect and for the second time you tasted yourself, enjoying the way he finished in your mouth, letting your lips wrap around his tip.  Drinking him all down while your body shook.  
“I think I’m falling in love.”  Steve pushed forward before pulling out and landing on his back.  
You nodded, breathless as you curled up to him.   He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.  
You ignored the tears forming in your eyes, fighting them away.  If pure happiness existed, this was it.  How did you get so lucky?
~~
Steve: I’m going to hug my pillow all night wishing it was you.  
You glanced at the clock, it was already approaching midnight.  
You: I’m sorry I couldn’t stay.  Thank you for a wonderful night and a gourmet meal.
Steve: Get some sleep.  I miss you.  
You: I miss you too.
You grabbed your pillow.  If Steve was pretending his was you, maybe you could do that same.  A huge smile on your face as you drifted off.
~~
You woke with a smile.  Maybe Smiley could be your new nickname.  You grabbed your phone eager to see what Steve had sent. To your surprise, there was no message.
All week long you’d woken up to messages.  You smiled even bigger, maybe you’d finally worn him out and the man needed more sleep than you did.
You rolled out of bed to brush your teeth, thoughts filled with nothing but Steve.
~~
Work was so intense, you turned your phone off.  No distractions.  When the team broke for lunch you flipped it on, your heart racing to see Steve’s messages.  When the screen came to life you saw nothing.  
Maybe it was wrong?  Messages glitched sometimes.  You clicked the app open, all you saw was your last message.  It said read at 12:03 am.  
You shrugged it off.  Steve knew you had a big work day.  He was being respectful.  You thought about texting him, but you had to get back to it and didn’t want to come off as needy.  It wasn’t like you could text him all afternoon.  
~~
The project finished an hour early, 4 pm on a Saturday.  Everyone gave themselves a round of applause and you did a lazy golf clap as you reached for your phone.  
Your heart exploded when you saw a message from Steve.
Steve: How was your day?
You: Good.  I have so much to tell you!
There was no bubble response, or read receipt.  You stared at your phone.  Maybe turning it off had been a bad idea.  
After saying goodbye to your colleagues and walking to you subway stop your phone dings with a message.
Steve: Can we meet for coffee?  
You giggled.
You: Why not dinner?  The real kind this time.  It was a big day for me!  I want to celebrate, you can supply dessert again.  
Steve: Coffee.  Now?  First night?
Maybe he had a big day too.  He’d been so supportive of you, it was due to return the favor.
You: Sure.  I’ll be there in twenty.  
You headed to the other subway line, more than eager for a sleepover tonight.  
~~
When you arrive at the diner you scan it, not seeing Steve anywhere.  Maybe you beat him here.   You were about to grab a random booth when a man in a black hoodie, baseball hat, and sunglasses sticks his hand in the air.  
You smile, wondering if this is some Avenger’s mission.
“Are you going as the Unabomber for Halloween?”  You slide into the booth.  “I couldn’t even recognize you.”
“There’s no easy way to say this.”  Steve cracked his jaw.  “Ashley called me last night.  Very upset.”
“Whose Ashley?”  You blurted out the first thought that came to your mind.
“My ex.”  He let out a huge sigh.  “She’s a mess.”
“The bitch from the club?”  You were a little interested in the drama.
“She’s not a bitch.”  Steve put his hands on the table and your blood ran cold.  “She has some problems.  She is working on them.  And we have a lot of history and she needs my help.”
“Oh.”  You felt like your soul floated out of your body.
“You’re so perfect.”  He reached out and grabbed your hands.  “But she needs me.  You don’t need me.  We have a lot of history and I owe it to her to try.”  
“Oh.”  Everything went numb.
“I wanted to let you know in person and before things got too serious.”  Steve squeezed your hand.  “If I could take back last night, I wouldn’t.  It was perfect,  you’re perfect.”
“You already said that.”  Your voice was getting tight.  
“But I mean it.”  He pushed the hood off his baseball cap.  “I can’t leave her.  Without me, I mean, you saw her at the club that night.  She’s a disaster.”  
The tears started to boil in your throat they were so deep.  You yanked your hands away, thoughts flying to wild to speak clearly.  You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him or plead with him to pick you.  
“I hope we can stay friends?”  He let out a sigh.  “I mean, you’re amazing and you made me so happy this past week.  Probably the happiest I’ve been in my entire life.  You’re smart, and witty, and beautiful, and you’re everything.”
The way he said week hit home.  It was only a week.  Not a month, not a year.  Just a week.  A lot of digs ran through your mind, ways you could make a joke, ways you could state your feelings.  But instead you said one thing.
“Sure.”  Your brain started to scream at itself.  
“That’s such a relief.”  Steve dropped his shoulders.
“I had a really long day.”  You stood up from the booth.  “Talk soon?”
You didn’t look back as you ran to the door, the tears spilling over. With a shaky hand you pulled out your phone, screaming at yourself for being so stupid to develope feelings, but smart enough to do one thing.  You highlighted his contact and clicked delete.  
~~
Friends, family, whoever would talk had to listen to you cry.  You didn’t hold back for them.  You made sure they alternated duty.   You even took a week off of work.
“If I would have stayed that night, would he have ignored her?”  You sobbed to your best friend.  
“No hunny.”  She ran a hand through your head.  “No.  You got caught in a weird game.”  
~~
Steve: How do you kill a circus?
It’s a random number not saved to a contact, but you know that’s the first text you get from Steve.  You know the punchline, but rather than responding you delete it.  The last thing you want is to memorize his number.  
You would’ve broken down and sent some very dumb stuff you would’ve regretted.  It’s only been five days.  He should send his girlfriend those jokes, not you.  
~~
Three days later you get  another.
Steve: How are you?
You think about deleting it, you think about screaming you broke my heart, acting cool like you’re busy, or just gushing about how much you miss him and what a great guy his is.  
You: Fine.
Steve: Glad to hear.
You don’t hesitate to delete the thread.
~~
Steve: I miss you.
Your heart races.  It’s been two weeks since the night you had the best sex of your life.  The tears sting your eyes.  You’ve been apart longer than you were together.   Did he realize he made a mistake?  Was he coming back to you?
You start typing: I miss
But then you stop.  No.  You had to frame this right.  State it right.  But what was there to do? Yell at him into loving you?  Did you love him?  Your heart hurt like it had, but this was wrong.  
With a shaky finger you highlighted the number and moved it to block.  The sobs came again and you cuddled your phone, regretting your choice.
~~
The day you hit the month mark you were trying not to think about Steve, but then the celebrity hit:  CAPTAIN AMERICA ENGAGED!  It ran all over the headlines.  
Him and his fiance were plastered everywhere.  You couldn’t escape.  It hit you then.  You were a rebound.  You were nothing.  A temporary step on his life path.  It hurt.  It hurt more than anything.  No ice cream could repair the hole one week with Steve Rogers had created.
~~
“I’m glad we got you out tonight.”  Your friend poked you in the side as she screamed in your ear.  “What’s it been, months since you’ve been in a club?”
“Yep.” Two, but you tried not to think about how your last time in a nightclub ended, how it could derail your life.  “But I’m here.”
You still hated the loud music.  Memories of a sports bar with Steve tried to come forward, but you buried them before they could.  
“Let’s dance!” She grabbed your hand.  
“Not yet.”  You yanked it away.  “In a few drinks.”
“I’ll wait with you.”  She settled next to you.  “But that dance floor is inviting.”
The bodies were moving and you scanned the area.  Your eyes bulged when you spotted a familiar face, tongue down a mouth.  
“Is that…..is that Captain America’s fiance?”  Your friend grabbed your arm,  you never told them the mysterious Steve’s last name.   “She’s not kissing Cap.”
She pulled out her phone ready to take a picture, but you put your hand out and lowered her arm.  
A wave of clarity rushed over you.  
“His girl wants to party all the time.  He buys her champagne and diamonds.”  A weird smile settled over you.  “He thinks he can fix her.”
That was the problem.  You didn’t need fixing.  And if you ever did you would figure it out for yourself, with the support of people around you.  Steve hit the nail on the head when he said you didn’t need him.  You never would.
“Go dance.”  You gave your friend a playful spank on the ass.  
For the first time in two months you felt like yourself and turned back to the bar hoping to block the music.  
A finger tapped your shoulder and you looked up with no jump.
“It’s loud in here.”  A handsome man with dark hair looked down at you.
“There’s a coffee shop a block away.”  You stood up.  “Can I buy you a cup?”
“Yes.” He nodded and set his drink down.  
“What’s your name?”  You yelled over the music.
“Stephen.”  He was right behind you.  
“Do you go by Steve and what are your thoughts on needy women?”  You pushed open the door to the club.
The air was hot and you rolled your shoulders back, embracing the lack of obnoxious music.
“If I went by Steve I would have introduced myself that way.”  His intense eyes glared at you.  “And I am a surgeon.  Everyone I encounter is needy.  I don’t have time for it in my personal life.”
You stifled your laughter at the response.   At least Steve had taught you to speak your mind.  Having a flashback to leaving the bar with him.  
“Well Mr. Stranger,  I will never need you.”  You grinned at him.  “Except for good conversation and occasional support.”
“It’s actually Doctor Strange.”  He chuckled.  “I think that’s the first time I laughed in months.”
“Tell me about it...literally.” You kicked at the sidewalk.  “How do you kill a circus?” 
The man scoffed at you and then wiped off his sleeves.  
“You go for the juggler of course.”  
1K notes · View notes
corvus--rex · 3 years ago
Text
One from way back when i first thought of doing a model Au, and way, way before I did Dripping in Gold for Julance - which I think I actually like better anyway. So that means that this one is pretty well abandoned. Not much to say about this one except that Allura is evil and enjoys watching her friends suffer >;)
~*~*~*~
“Allura, why?” Keith asked flatly with just a tinge of incredulousness.
“Because, that’s why,” she answered, getting up and following her stylist. She perched in the chair and took a selfie, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she added a caption before posting it to Instagram.
Keith got the notification, checking it before going back to the private message she’d sent him. The new post was another perfect selfie, her aqua eyes sparkling and dark skin glowing. “Getting my hair straightened!!! Sooo excited!!!” read the caption. Allura had been teasing a new hairstyle, temporary, of course, for an upcoming shoot all week. Only Keith and their friend Shiro knew what she was planning. And since Shiro was busy on a shoot himself, Keith had been dragged along to Allura’s styling appointment.
He slid lower in the leather sofa, returning to the private message. All she had sent was the name of another Instagram user and fellow model. He had nothing better to do, and so decided that he would at least check out what LB_Lance was like.
Allura wasn’t entirely wrong. Keith hadn’t dated in months. Ok, closer to a year. But he was busy! His modeling career and college took precedence over all else. His double major in fashion design and business took up a lot of his time, modeling taking up the rest. His dream end goal of establishing his own fashion house wasn’t going to fund itself. Maybe he had been neglecting his social life. But only a little.
Either way, she had decided that she'd had enough of Keith’s asocial antics. Unless he was working or in class, he was locked in his apartment, studying or working on projects for his double major. Allura used her contacts at Castle Modeling Agency, getting the name of Lance McClain's Instagram. She had seen him there before, run across him at agency parties, and knew he and Keith would hit it off if they were ever in the same room.
Soft aqua body glitter and naturally golden skin were the first things he saw when he went to LB_Lance’s most recent post. The glitter dusted his cheekbones, shoulders, and collarbone. It was artistic and intentional, highlighting his natural beauty rather than covering it. The tightlined, hair’s breadth gold eyeliner made his vibrant blue eyes inhumanly intense. One corner of his perfect lips was curled upwards ever so slightly. His dark hair was slightly damp, giving it a natural wave. He was dressed only in turquoise and gold board shorts, elbows leaning on a weather-worn, thick wooden rail.
Keith gasped softly. Holy fuck he was beautiful. He didn’t even have a chance to scroll any farther before getting a notification of another private message.
LB_Lance: Hey, StarPrincess said I should check you out. So I did. Damn, you’re hot. I think I’d like to see for myself. You free Sunday?
Keith looked up, glaring in Allura’s direction. “Allura, I hate you.”
“Why? What did I do?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“You know what you did,” he shot back, “And he’s pm’ed me.”
She giggled. “Did you look yet?”
“Yes. I did. I hate you.” He knew she was referring to Lance’s page, not the message, and what she meant by looking.
“Pretty, isn’t he?”
“Still hate you.”
Allura snorted, going back to her phone, while her stylist Angel continued with her hair, and Keith went back to his.
Kei_Ko: I have a sunset shoot Sunday, but I have all morning off. What’d you have in mind?
Kei_Ko: And even if my being hot were true, you’re a fucking god
LB_Lance: . . . I . . . um . . . ok. I, um, I was thinking of – hey, you know Jack’s?
Kei_Ko: The diner?
LB_Lance: Yeah! Meet up for a late breakfast? Like 10?
Kei_Ko: Sure.
LB_Lance: I’ll see you then. Later, sexy. ;)
“OhmygodIfuckinghateyouAllura,” Keith hissed all at once as he threw his phone to the other end of the sofa.
She cackled at the rushed sentiment. “Oh. My god. What happened?”
“I have a fucking date Sunday morning thanks to you.” He folded his arms, glaring at her.
“Huh. That’s usually when your dates end. This is a step up for you,” Allura said, taking a not-so-subtle dig at Keith’s tendency for short-lived relationships.
“Wow. Really? You’re going there? I may just have to make you walk to the shoot in this heat,” he retorted, watching her face contort.
“You wouldn’t. Keith, please. Tell me you’re joking.”
Keith tried. He really did. But he couldn’t keep a straight face and collapsed to the sofa in a fit of giggles. Allura realized he wasn’t serious and felt her own giggles bubbling up her throat. It took them both a few minutes before they’d calmed down enough to speak.
“You’re horrible,” Allura finally managed, “Remind me why I’m still friends with you?”
“Because you love me,” Keith replied from his sprawled position on the sofa.
“Debatable.”
Keith rolled over to retrieve his phone from where he’d thrown it, flipping Allura off in the process. She snorted and went back to her phone while Angel worked. Keith also returned to his phone and LB_Lance’s Instagram.
“So, what’s this guy’s real name, anyway?” he asked.
“Lance,” Allura answered without looking up, “Lance McClain. I have told him yours as well.”
“So, what’s the ‘LB’ for?”
“Dunno. Never asked. But then, I'm not the one who has a date with him, maybe you should be the one to ask that,” she teased.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Allura.” Keith rolled his eyes at her and went back to scrolling through Lance’s Instagram.
<~>~<~>
Pidge launched herself onto Lance’s sprawled form. She felt it was only fair since he was taking up the entire sofa. He’d been on his phone all morning and completely ignoring her, and she finally got tired of it. Lance’s reflexes were good, and he grabbed Pidge by the waist and tossed her off of him and onto the floor, but not before she grabbed his phone. She landed on the floor with a grunt and a thud, but ignored it in favor of what had held Lance’s attention for so long.
“Damn, Lance, he’s hot,” she said, scrolling back up through the Instagram account of Kei_Ko, “You gonna be stalking him now?”
“Fuck off, Pidge,” Lance retorted, snatching his phone back, “And no, I'm not stalking him. I got a message that I should check him out from someone at Castle. Well, not just anyone. It was Allura. And for your information, I already pm’ed him. We’re meeting up for breakfast on Sunday.”
Pidge rolled to a sitting position and turned around. “You ass. Tell me everything.”
He sighed, rolling onto his side to face her. “I ran into Allura at Castle a couple days ago, and she suggested that I might want to look up one of her friends – who also happens to be a model – and that she’d message me on Insta. So, I did, and he’s beautiful, and I asked him out. There. That’s everything, you gremlin."
~*~*~*~
Links to the rest of the series:
1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*
14 notes · View notes