#once i took off the belt when i got home and the shorts literally fell down to the floor and i was left with my ass out and i laughed so | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simpsiren · 4 years ago

Text

lee taeyong x reader

description. I liked Lee Taeyong. A lot. And with every book I gave him, whatever purposes, I hid a love letter in between its pages. After all this time, I still wonder if Taeyong has yet to read even one of them.

Tsundoku— buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves, floors, or nightstands.

genre. fluff, angst, love letters!au, friends to lovers!au, one-sided love! au, bartender!taeyong, university student!reader

word count. 12.4k~

warnings. none!

a/n. was randomly scrolling through printerest when i found this word and suddenly this idea popped up in my headd. i had to change the meaning of the word so tha itll fit the story line better but the overall meaning is the same sooo. anyways that’s all i got for you now please enjoyy!

Books. An interest both Taeyong and I shared since college. Though our interest laid in the same object, our uses for it were far from the same. For me, it’s for reading. Like how it should be used, its main purpose. Like any other bookworm, constantly having my head shoved in romance or fantasy novels. Taeyong on the other hand, he... he uses it as decoration. Something that to him, should be kept on shelves, unread for display purposes.

I got to find out quite quickly that it was a habit for him to collect books that had nice spines just so he could place them on his shelves. I’ve been to his home once. One entire wall was just shelves filled with books. It was aesthetically pleasing indeed, but it disappointed me that he didn’t even bother to read a single one. So we made an agreement that I’d read his books. If he were to buy a new one, he’d let me read it first before tucking it away to never be pulled out again. I guess that’s why my friendship with him worked so well.

Taeyong decided to work as a bartender after college while I, went to pursue my studies with university. Should say that I regretted that on-impulse decision of mine nowadays.

It’s Friday. I just got out of university, at one in the morning. What an ungodly hour, considering that my classes started at nine this morning. I agreed to meet Taeyong at his bar. Luckily for me, the distance between school and the bar wasn’t far. Taeyong took me as a factor into consideration while trying out jobs around the school’s area, just so he’d get to meet me more often. That, was one of the million reasons why I fell for him.

I dragged my feet across the side walk, the screeching of my boots scraping against the rough surface. As much as I tried to hold up my posture during my long trip there (it felt like I’ve been walking forever when really, it has only been ten minutes), my back slowly slouched with each step till I was fully slouching. The extremely poor and back paining kind. Can’t blame me. University is mentally draining, but physically as well, having to walk to different classes constantly that’s being situated on opposite ends of the facility. It’s a workout.

I looked up to take a breather, seeing the glowing sign above the bar. I gazed down, to the glass windows, noticing how there was a lot of people in there. Well, it’s a Friday night afterall. I placed my free hand onto the door’s handle, pushing it open and entering.

Classical music played in the background. People’s murmurs could be heard as they had their own conversations. The place was dimly lit with an orange hue; a calming atmosphere. I went right up to the bar, getting on an empty cushioned stool and adjusting my butt onto it. I looked around the area. Taeyong wasn’t to be seen. I only assumed that he was making drinks.

I took out my book from my tote bag, flipping to the page where I folded it’s edge to continue where I left off. I was already two third done with it. And I was determined to finish it by Monday just so that I could get a new book to read.

My head was faced down, eyes scanning each sentence as I blocked out the entire world, putting myself in my own little bubble as I imagined myself in the story’s plot, too immersed to give a single care for my surroundings.

Suddenly, a hand appeared beside me, tapping its knuckles against the wood to get my attention. I lifted my eyes up, seeing Taeyong standing in front of me. White button up shirt, three buttons unhooked, revealing the slightest bit of his collarbones in a way to tease you and having the urge to see them fully. Black dress pants with a belt that cinched on his waist, framing his lower body beautifully.

“Literally called you from two steps away and you didn’t hear any of it.” Taeyong leaned against the counter, elbows supporting him as his face got close to mine. “I was busy.” I said, lifting up my book slightly. “You done with that? I need to put a new book on the shelve soon. It bugs me that there’s an empty spot.” Taeyong shivered as he mentioned that, making me chuckle softly.

“By Monday, I promise.”

“Need anything to drink? You look worn out.” Taeyong eyed me up and down. I probably looked terrible since Taeyong scrunched up his nose and shook his head. “You know I don’t drink. I mean I can, but it’s still the school term. I can’t afford getting off track by anything.”

Taeyong breathed a short laugh in response. “Ah of course. Didn’t you say you wanted to dropout just yesterday?” Taeyong looked up for a moment before bringing his eyes back down on me with a teasing gaze. My mind went back to yesterday when I texted Taeyong a long ranting paragraph about how stressed I was this week. I frowned. “Should I?”

Taeyong bobbed his shoulder. “It’s up to you. But I sincerely think you should. I mean look at you.” He added a light scoff at the end, his hand going up and down in front of me. “I’m just worried.” He proceeded to shift his weight form one leg to the other, sliding his fingers into the pocket of his pants. I felt his sense of sincerity, invariably imbued. Another reason why I fell for him. He’s always caring, too caring for his own good, especially towards me.

“Will think about it.” I mumbled, taking note of my book’s page number since I was too lazy to fold it before closing and shoving it back into my tote bag. “Anyways, when are you getting off work?”

Taeyong turned around to grab something. I realised it was his wallet and phone as he shoved the wallet into his back pocket and kept his phone in his hand. “Right now.” He flashed his smile. The signature smile. One he has on ninety percent of the time, at least around me. It was unique. A smile that only suited him and not anyone else. He owned it . Like he should. Yet another reason why I fell for him.

I got off the stool as he went around the counter that had the space in between for staffs to pass through. “Want me to drive?” He asked as we made our way to the door. I shook my head. “You had a long day. Just go home.” I kindly rejected. I bowed my head as he opened the door for me. A gentleman; adding onto the long list.

“You had an even longer one. I don’t care. It’s late too. I can’t let you walk home alone.” I laughed weakly, waiting for him outside as he closed the door. As we make our way to Taeyong’s car, he whispered, “Sleep straight when you get home, okay?” He opened the car door for me. I nodded, “Yes father.” I dragged on.

The car ride home was silent. Completely silent. There wasn’t even music playing in the background. I had my eyes fixed on the view out of the window, too scared to look at Taeyong as I can’t bare to look at him long enough before I melt on sight.

My apartment came to view after the many trees and street lights we drove past. The car pulled to a halt and I turned to Taeyong, who was suddenly up close to me, one hand looming over my chest as he reached for the seatbelt. I possibly stopped breathing. His eyes looked into mine, expressionless. I couldn’t even blink I was that shocked. “Sorry. I thought you were sleeping.”

Taeyong pulled back to his seat. I exhaled sharply. I looked to the seatbelt. He didn’t unbuckle it. I huffed quietly and did it myself, sliding my tote bag onto my shoulder. “Remember. Sleep right away.” He advised a second time as I make my way out of the car, slamming the car door shut.

Before I turned around, he rolled down the window, leaning forward slightly. “And my book!” He shouted. I placed two fingers up my head and pointed it back at it as a way to say, “Yes sir.” Before swirling around and walking away, his car’s engine starting up and driving away. The noise was quick to get muffled and go away as he drove further out of the neighborhood.

The hours of studying I had to do at home went by quick. Before I even knew it, I didn’t sleep that night at all. Unfortunately, I didn’t listen to Taeyong. I had assignments to complete by Monday for God’s sake. I’ve come to terms with the fact that the number of times I’ve pulled all-nighters are now inhumane.

I checked the time on my clock. 5:05AM. I sighed, looking across my study table that’s pilled with worksheets and my opened laptop. I nodded my head as I made the mental decision of finally cleaning up as I rechecked to see if I’ve left any work undone before beginning to stack the papers and shoving them into my tote bag. The only thing left on the table was a stack of decorative papers, with beautiful outlines of red roses around the edges.

I slid one paper off the stack, placing it in front of me. I grabbed a random pen from my organiser, clicking it as I swirled it around, trying to figure out what to write.

Hey taeyong. This is my 127th love letter, confession letter, whatever you would call it. I’m not sure if you’ve read any of them. My last note was in ‘It Ends with Us’. I find that you aren’t giving any reaction or anything. I know you don’t read the books but do you even bother flipping through its pages for the letter to fall out? I’m still hoping you’d at least open this one. Please. I’ve been waiting for ages. For you. I like you, Lee Taeyong, for the 127th time.

I placed my pen back to where it belonged before holding the note in my hand, lifting it up to my face. I bit my bottom lip before opening my book, randomly opening a page and placing the note in, making sure it’s secured before putting that into my tote bag as well. Too lazy to even get into my bed, I fell asleep uncomfortably at the table.

It was now Sunday. I almost forgot the fact that I’m meeting Taeyong today to pass him the book, which to be honest, I didn’t finish. The book was boring. It was like those books that you force yourself through so you wouldn’t feel the regret of buying it. Though I used Taeyong’s money, I still felt bad for leaving it unread. I wasn’t like Taeyong at least.

While thumbing through my closet to find something to wear after showering, my eyes stopped at the sweater that Taeyong borrowed me not too long ago because I was dumb enough to meet him at two in the morning without a jacket. I was frozen stiff due to the cold.

Absentmindedly, I took it off its hanger and brought it close to my chest, dipping my head down as I deeply inhaled, Taeyong’s scent was still on there. I put it on and continued getting ready.

Just when I was done placing my valuables in my sling bag, the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the mailman, I rushed to the door with immense speed. I opened the door forcefully. But instead of the mailman, I was met with Taeyong standing in front of me. We locked eyes for a split second, which made my heart leap. I then eyed him up and down. He was wearing his usual all black outfit. Shirt, jeans, and boots. I liked how the plain and simple outfit was able to cup his body well, accentuate all his body features. It always made me swoon for him.

“What are you doing here?” I noticed how Taeyong kept eyeing his sweater that’s on me despite his attempts at trying to remain eye contact with me. “I thought of just letting you give me the book now and spend the day here. Can I?” No wonder he wore a regular outfit.

“So I dressed up for nothing?” I feigned my exasperation, folding my arms as I cocked an eyebrow, huffing ever so softly. Taeyong followed my poster one on one. “And wearing my sweater is called dressing up? How lovely.” It was now his turn to fire back, which made me frown. “Whatever.” I gave in, turning around to head back to my room.

I heard the door closing as Taeyong’s footsteps were quick to follow closely behind, maybe due to the large steps he took with his long legs. As I entered my room, Taeyong lets out a hum of satisfaction. “Your shelve’s looking good. More full than last time.” He complimented. I took a seat at the study table as he made his way to seat at the edge of my bed. “Mhm.” I softly answered.

With the remembrance of what he came here for, I grabbed my tote bag and fished out for the book. I then toss it onto the bed beside Taeyong, not speaking a word as I jerked my head to it. “Thanks. You read fast.” Taeyong held the book in his hand. Open it, open it. Oh God why can’t he just find the damn note I placed there?

“No I don’t. It’s just that the book was extremely boring for my liking.” I stated, matter-of-factly. Taeyong examined the book, quickly turning it over to read the synopsis. “Ew.” He mumbled.

“It was only good at first. The ending sucked.” I added on to my complains. “By the way...” Taeyong trailed on. I wonder what he wanted to ask. Was it something about the book? About the notes?

“I’ve been thinking I should read one of the books.” I folded my arms with arrogance, slouching into the chair as I tilted my head, the side of my lip lifted up slightly. “So after more than four years I was able to reel you in to read your first book?” I questioned, sounding smug.

Taeyong let out an annoyed ‘tsk’. “I find ‘If I never met you’ interesting, okay? Let me be.” Taeyong pouted and folded his arms, turning his head away from my direction. I stood up, walking to the bed and plopping myself down which made the two of us bounce up and down of a moment. “It’s cute how you’re a newbie to reading.” I made up an excuse when really what I found cute was how Taeyong acted. It made me blush a bright pink. It was probably extremely noticeable when Taeyong suddenly mentioned, “Did I make you so proud that you’re now blushing?” Taeyong teased, a giggle following after.

“Oh shut up.”

Lee Taeyong. This is the 128th letter. I still remember the first one I wrote. Feeling so hopeful and acting like a little girl that’s too shy to confess up front. I’m still like that. Yet to physically hint at you about my feelings. I can only express them like this, through notes that could all end up being meaningless if you’ve never looked at them. I’ll come by your house today. I’ll probably slide it in between books instead of pages. I long for your love, the kind that’s much more than that of a friend. I’ve been holding on for so long. Perhaps too long. But it’s okay, you’re Lee Taeyong. I won’t let the feelings I’ve bottled up for years go to waste. I’ll do something... soon. Yes, soon.

Later that day, I made my way to Taeyong’s house. I asked him to stay at home so that I could surprise him by coming over. But the reaction that I expected from him was way too predictable.

“You could’ve just told me to pick you up!” Taeyong whined. There he goes again being way too caring. Stop it. It’s hurting me.

“It’s not that troubling to travel, Yong. Calm the heck down! It’s really nothing.” I shouted back, reassurance being imbued into each word. He made way for me to enter. And as I did, I walked slowly, long strides to the living room where the large bookshelf was placed. The one that covered the entire wall. Well, almost, since he made space for the television. Other than that, it was just books surrounding it.

“Wait.” I turned around sharply. I realised that my sudden action made Taeyong stop in his tracks instantly. But he was close to me. Way too close for my own good. We stayed there for a moment, exchanging blank stares while I took the time to remember this moment; my heart stopping, his tall figure looming over me, his eyes looking into mine as if he’s trapping me in his gaze. Moments like these happen often. And I’d often take the time to remember them, shoving them into a mental folder called ‘Head over heels for TY’.

“Sit down. I’ll... get the cheesecake.” Taeyong was the first to back out, taking a step away from me and chuckling awkwardly. He quickly turned away after avoiding my eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. He looked nervous. But why? If I have seen it correctly, it looked like his cheeks were ever so slightly red as well. What even...

I shook my head vigorously, throwing those thoughts out of my mind. I sat down on the brown leather couch, leaning back and allowing my body to sink into it. Somehow, the thoughts crept back in. I thought about how what I observed just now could not have been real. It’s Lee Taeyong. Hundreds of girls are always hitting on him at the bar during his shift. He might even be seeing someone. Wait why am I even saying that to myself? I’d end up feeling jealous with no real reason. Great, you’re a dumb one indeed.

I felt Taeyong’s weight beside me. I looked up from the table, realising now that I was in a trance of my own thoughts, and to the cheesecake that he placed down. He leaned forward to cut a slice, placing it on a small plate as he placed the fork down beside it and handed it to me. “Here. Bought it especially for your brain recovery, and cravings. You’re period came, right?”

My eyes widened. My brows furrowed and got closer to each other as I backed my head away in surprise. “How’d you even know?” I asked shockingly. Taeyong lets out a chuckle, bringing his plate up and taking a bite. “I know you long enough to know that your period’s consistent and is usual around this time. But I was just taking my chances. I know you’d still eat the cheesecake either way.” Taeyong flashed a cheeky smile.

I knew he was extremely considerate towards me. He’d always advise me to take breaks, giving me a shoulder to lean on when I need rest, coming over to comfort me till sunrise whenever I texted him a ‘feel depressed lmao.’ He’s always on standby, ready to assist me when I need him, for whatever reason. Even if he wasn’t there, he was somehow able to choreograph his silent dance of support. But I never knew he was this meticulous to take note of my habits, my favourite food and even my period. He knew everything about me at the back of his hand. He really does make me feel some type of way. Perhaps a feeling far beyond love. An unknown feeling that only I could experience since it’s Taeyong. It’s always him. Always have been, and always will be.

I grabbed a big bite, scooping it in my mouth and moaning out dreamily, letting myself sink into the cheesecake and its flavours like a bath. “Fuck this is good. Where’d you get it?” I questioned with immense curiosity. I was genuinely curious. Because I’d love to get more.

Taeyong raised both his brows, his lips forming a thin line as he gave a slightly awkward or nervous cheeky smile. I couldn’t quite tell. “I made it.” He whispered. “No way!” I instantly take another bite, this time with Taeyong in mind. I mean, he already was from the moment he gave me the plate, but with now knowing that he was the one that made it? It suddenly tasted a thousand times better.

“Fucking bake more! Why haven’t I known that you can bake?!” I screamed with excitement. I finished the first slice, now on my way to tackle a second. Taeyong laughed hilariously at my reaction. “Is it that good? It’s my first time trying the recipe.”

“I know you cook like you’ve cooked for me many times but what the heck you should to do this more often. I’d eat it whole.” I squealed as I savoured the cheesecake’s flavours.

“If it’s for you then I’d gladly do it.”

Once again I felt the kindness and love through his voice and tone that’s ever so sweet and gentle. I’d imagine that this was how angels sounded like. Taeyong has always been able to put me at instant peace with just his words alone. Be it through the phone or in person. I always felt calm and protected.

It amazed me just what love could do to you. Everything they do now seemed perfect and beautiful, you blind yourself with their beauty and everything that’s good in them. In Taeyong’s case, I’ve never seen the bad side of him, shockingly enough. I’ve been friends with him for more than five years yet there wasn’t any argument between us that made a major impact on our relationship, if you don’t count those when I wouldn’t talk to him for only one day but we’d be able to act normal after.

We ended up spending the evening watching Netflix. We’ve been through two movies now. The cheesecake was now fully finished as well, down to its crumbs. “Want me to cook dinner?”

“I’m fine with anything.” I blinked my eyes once and a soft smile appeared on my lips. Taeyong hummed softly and nodded his head as he made his way to the kitchen, the sound of his slippers can be heard as he shuffled away.

I laid down on the couch, using my phone. A thought suddenly popped in my mind. I instantly peeked my head above the back rest, seeing Taeyong’s back in view as his body swayed slowly by the stove. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He ran a hand through his hair. How can a man look this... amazing. I can’t think of any other ways to describe Taeyong at that moment. Boyfriend material? Stunning? Breathtaking? All of the above.

As much as I wanted to stare at his figure, I had another agenda I had to accomplish before getting back to it. I rose from the couch, slowly and quietly, taking the note out of my sling bag. I walked up to the overwhelmingly large bookshelf. I scanned it carefully, trying to figure out where to place it.

“What are you doing?” I turned instantly at Taeyong’s voice. He was a few steps away from me, two plates of pasta in his hands. He turned around to place them on the table.

I took this chance to quickly slide the note into the shelve. One edge of the note was sticking out. Shit. It wasn’t obvious but it’s still there. I didn’t have any time to adjust it when Taeyong faced his body back to me.

“Just looking. The fact that I’ve read all these books... I’m such a bookworm for reading this much.”

“That’s what I like about you.” I was eyeing the pasta when Taeyong blurted that out. It was quick and soft, I couldn’t make out the words. I could only infer. “What?” I asked purposely, just to see if he’ll answer.

“It’s nothing.” Taeyong shoved a spoonful of pasta into his mouth, adverting his gaze on anything else but me.

I thought about how weird he was acting. It’s the first time I’m noticing that Taeyong’s been acting... wary, cautious of his every move around me. Just as I thought about how he’s clueless and delusional about my feelings for him, it could have been the same for me.

Luckily (Thank the Gods kind of lucky), classes ended early today. And Taeyong told me to meet him at his dance studio. For what reason? I wasn’t actually sure. I headed there, passing by the many other practice rooms till I saw the number that Taeyong told me. I opened the door, seeing Taeyong and two other guys I’m unfamiliar with. All of them turned their heads to me in unison, Taeyong blinding me with a bright smile while the others looked to each other with confusion.

“You came!” Taeyong squealed, running up to me and hugging my tightly. He was extremely sweating. I would try to push him away, but he probably wouldn’t let go and let me suffocate. Thankfully, he didn’t and pulled away, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to the other two guys.

“Ten, Mark. This is my friend, _____. I wanted her to come so that we’ll have an audience to show our piece.” Taeyong explained to them freely as he pointed to Ten and Mark respectively, an arm swung around my shoulders. I bowed my head amicably with a smile while they did the same. “You never told me you have a girlfriend, Taeyong.” Ten teased, lightly punching Taeyong’s chest. I couldn’t help but blush a light pink. I swallowed and looked up to him, who had a nervous and shy face on, which I didn’t expect at all.

“We’re best friends, please.” Taeyong denied, no hesitation whatsoever. In my head I wanted to frown but I had to keep a smile on.

“Hey, Ten. Wanna get Starbucks?” Mark suddenly asked, looking at him with a wicked grin as if he’s hinting to Ten about something. Ten was quick to respond, nodding his head with affirmation. “Yeah. I’m thirsty. You should just stay here with her. Need js to get anything?” Ten trailed on while the two of them began to take their wallets out of their bags that were at the back of the practice room.

“You guys are really going all the way to Starbucks that’s a fifteen minute walk from here?” Taeyong asked, extremely shocked. I did walk past Starbucks on my way here, and it is indeed extremely far. What the heck were they trying to do by leaving so abruptly?

“Eh it’s fine. Well we’ll leave you to it! Peace!” And just like that, Ten and Mark have left and it was now just me and Taeyong. The two of us turned to each other and chuckled at the same time. “Come on show me your dance!”

“It’s a duet that I’m doing with Ten. Can’t dance if he’s not here.” I looked up for a moment, thinking. “Dancer by day. Bartender by night. That’s Lee Taeyong.” I spread my hands out with jiggling my fingers as if showing a rainbow and mimicking stars. Taeyong laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Broke university student by day, author by night. That’s _____.”

I looked at him weirdly, eyes narrowing at him as I furrowed my brows. “How am I an author?”

“Eh I just assume you’re one since you’re such a bookworm.” Taeyong fakely rolled his eyes but flashed a cheeky smile after. I smiled back and got closed to him, both hand resting on my hips as I rested my weight on one leg. “So what are we gonna do mister dancer?” I asked with the tone of a child, making me laugh after from how ridiculous I sounded.

Taeyong proceeded to take my tote bag off my shoulder, putting it off to the side with the other bags while he grabbed his phone and went to Spotify. “Let’s dance.” He suggested with confidence. He played a song. It’s one of my favourites. A song that didn’t make me think twice to bob my head to, which I instantly did. “I haven’t danced in years and you know that.”

Specifically, it was six years ago. I used to dance in highschool as extra curricular thing. But in college I started to dance less frequently, and my dance friends and I slowly grew distant. But I was okay with it. I mean, it’s life. The world still had to spin no matter the situation.

“Come on I know you have it in you. Just vibe.” Taeyong swayed his shoulders up and down slowly, grooving to the beat as his whole body began to work its magic, his dancing was at the level of professional ones. I never know why he didn’t want to pursue dance as a career and became a bartender instead.

I slowly moved my body in a weird way. Not dancing for years, your body is bound to be uncomfortable and you’d be looking weird as you move. Which was definitely me. Taeyong laughed at me, making me frown and stopped dancing. He huffed with a smile and held both my hands. Instantly, my legs and body moved in sync with his. It felt amazing dancing with Taeyong. It was fun and carefree. I could dance as stupidly as I want and even though Taeyong could pull off the best dance moves, he’d still choose to dance stupidly along with me. He was able to serve himself as a guidance as I found my groove and vibe that I didn’t have in me for a long time.

When the music stopped, Taeyong’s hands where on my waist, while I had mine on his arms. We turned to the mirror and giggled, throwing out heads back happily.

“You still got it.”

“Make sure to find the ones with pretty spines.”

Taeyong and I decided to head to bookstores today for our monthly book shopping. And while I was carefully reading the synopsis of books that had an interesting title, Taeyong was busy examining their cover pages and the aesthetics, mostly the spine.

“Have you started on the book you told me about?” I asked, flipping the book I just took out to its first chapter to get a feel of the writer’s writing style. “I have, actually.” My head shot to him instantly. He’s read the book. But I remembered putting the note in the back pages of the book. Has he reached there yet? “But I’m a slow reader. And busy. I’m only at the third chapter.”

As much as I was surprised about the fact that he’s speed in reading was extremely slower than what I would consider normal, I couldn’t blame him. He’s body with work most of the time and he has a life to live. Not to mention how it’s the first book he’s actually reading. This is a good example that the gap in terms of our reading abilities are definitely big.

“Liking it so far?” I asked. “Yeah.” Taeyong simply replied as he took a book off the display. “I’m getting this. And these as well.” He giggled like a happy child who’s buying a bunch of toys as birthday present from his parents. He lifted the books up slightly, fiddling around and trying to stack them properly while I closed the book that was in my hands. “I’m just buying this.”

“Seriously? Oh wait nevermind you’re a broke university student.” Taeyong taunted, rolling his eyes. My mouth opened slightly, faking my exasperated as I huffed loudly. “Okay mister bartender. You didn’t have to rub-”

“Oh my God. Taeyong?!”

In unison, the two of us turned around to the noise. A girl was running up to us. The moment she came, she didn’t hesitate to hug Taeyong around his torso. Taeyong chuckled, almost awkwardly and hugged her back.

I took a quick look at them. Their hug made a few things clear to me. One, she’s probably known him for a long time. But if she has, why didn’t Taeyong told me about her before? He shares all his secrets, I pretty much know him from A to Z. So why hasn’t he mention her before? Second, Taeyong was quick to reciprocate the hug, from his awkward form to a loving one. They looked like a couple that hasn’t seen each other in ages; a meaningful reunion.

I wasn’t exactly happy with where this was going. I didn’t like how in an instant, she could simply let herself be in such close proximity with him. I’ve never hugged Taeyong for that long at all. It made me feel a couple of things. Jealousy? Judgmental? Sudden hatred towards her? But why should I? It felt so invalid of me to feel these things.

“It’s been years, Taeyong.” She chuckled happily as they pulled apart. Finally. “Who’s she?” Her finger lifted up to me.

“A friend.” Taeyong answered. Of course, Why did I think I’d be any more than that? Just a friend. We’re just friends. Just.

While they were having a chat about who knows what, I wasn’t exactly paying attention since I simply assumed that it was to catch up with each other. I wondered off to another section of the store. After browsing through a few books, it was then I realised that they weren’t no longer in the store anymore when I got back. They left, Taeyong left. Without telling me. It was my fault for leaving the scene discreetly since I felt like my presence wasn’t needed in their bubble at the time, but why did Taeyong not come find me? Was I... simply forgotten?

I went straight home that day after cashing out the books. I didn’t know where Taeyong went after leaving that that girl, but I didn’t want to act like some busybody who asks something that isn’t her business. I got texts from Taeyong asking if I left yet. Was he planning on returning there after leaving for two hours? He actually expected me to wait. Unbelievable.

After that day, my meetups with him became less frequent. He occasionally replied to my texts. More like one sentence after four or so hours. He still updates his socials. And it was all about her. Photos, videos. They were hanging out together more often. For some reason, it felt like she was a replacement; my replacement. I somewhat distanced myself away from Taeyong thinking, “I assume you don’t need me anymore so I’ll stay out of your way.”

But one day, out of pure curiosity, I decided to follow them to a cafe. Taeyong did text me that he’d be heading there, but I left him on seen. Like I said, I’m slowly removing myself out of his picture.

I sat at the corner of the cafe, black jacket, black cap and large black sunglasses. I looked like a stalker in the eyes of strangers. I mean, I was.

I covered myself further by holding up a book to my face. As I continuously stared at them, I grew bored. Don’t get me wrong, I was feeling negative. I didn’t like how she’s teasingly touching Taeyong’s arm, how they laughed happily together and chatting as if they’re in their own little world. But I started to wonder why I even came here. I did want to see what they’re like. But I’m making myself feel more bad this way.

I decided to write a note. I was done with the book I’m currently holding. All I needed to do was give it to Taeyong. With the note. I took out a random piece of paper from my tote bag, fishing out for a pen as well and began to write.

It’s my 145th letter. Fuck how long am I going to do this? Might sound weird, but I’m currently looking at you. Watching you with her. Why does it feel like you’re happier with her? You’re smiling, laughing more. You’re more brighter. I mean you have always been bright. But you just... radiate differently; a new type of glow I never knew you had. I saw your socials, constantly posting about her. I’m jealous, very. I want to be like that with you. But it just feels wrong, perhaps not right. Like I shouldn’t be craving for you. For your touch, your whispers, giggles. Why do I feel like this? The more you spend time with her, the more I realise that my chances of getting you is slowly slipping away from my grasp. But why can’t I move? Why don’t I want to move? I’m not sure what’s stopping me. And that’s what I’m fearing the most.

I felt my cheeks getting wet. It took me awhile to realise that I was balling my eyes out, slowly and painfully. I took off my sunglasses for a moment to wipe off excess tears before putting them back on. I can’t belive I’m crying. I looked down to the note. A tear fell onto it, a spot crinkled as it left a visible mark of my feelings. Just as I was sniffing, constantly having to wipe my cheeks dry since my tears were getting uncontrollable, I looked out the window. And what stood on the opposite side shocked me.

I knocked on the glass, his head turning quickly. He looked around inside the cafe, not sure of where the signal came from. I knocked once again. He looked down on me and I took off my sunglasses, pulling down my hood.

“Nakamoto Yuta?” I mouthed to him, my lips moving widely so he could read them. His eyes blinked rapidly and he leaned in before widening them after realising who I was. We take a few of the same classes. I see him often in school. But we never really talked. He immediately rushed into the cafe, covering his face as if hiding his identity and running up to my table to take a seat.

“Why were you looking in like some stalker?” I asked, pulling my hood back over my head as I lowered myself, my eyes still fixated on Taeyong.

“You look more like one than I do.” Yuta commented. I notice how he was constantly turning around, specifically to Taeyong’s direction. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m looking at them.” He pointed his finger out ever so slightly. And as I predicted, he was referring to Taeyong and the girl. “You know Taeyong?” I immediately asked, extremely curious as to why he was spying on them just like I was. “No, but I know Jiung.” So that’s her name. Pretty name for a pretty girl. Of course.

“And why are you doing that exactly?” Yuta let out a huff, leaning in with his elbows on the table, his shoulder rising up to his ears. “Because I want to see what they’re on about. I keep seeing her with that Taeyong guy. I like Jiung so I’m jealous.” I puckered my lips and nodded. My face showed as if I shrugged it off. But my mind began turning its gears. So he likes Jiung and he’s jealous of them together? He has the same reason of me coming here as well. What forces swirled around the world for us to come together like this? It’s weird how coincidentally the situation was.

“I actually came for the same reason as you. I like Taeyong, and I’m jealous of Jiung.” I frowned slightly, a sigh leaving my lips. I opened up to him quick about my situation since I felt a sense of similarity with him. He probably wouldn’t remember anyways. It’s not like we’ll be crossing paths in the future.

“Were you crying? Your eyes are hella puffy.” He asked suddenly. I breathed out a laugh awkwardly. I gulped and cleared my throat, thinking that I should shove all my feeling down so I wouldn’t look even more ridiculous in front of Yuta. “Yeah.” I quickly slid the note in between a random page.

“Funny how we met here. For the same reasons. It’s like fate.” I couldn’t agree more. “An idea just came to my mind.” Oh no.

Yuta has always been the class clown, saying out his ideas that were completely mind blowing and far fetched. His way of thinking is... unique, in a funny way. I got somewhat nervous after he said that sentence, you can never guess what he’s thinking about or get a clear grasp of the way he thinks.

“How about we try splitting them up?” I didn’t reply, his words slowly resonating in my mind. He can’t be serious, right? But why am I slowly being persuade by an unknown force?

I have yet to say a word, my eyes still on them as I was deep in thought, wondering about all the possible outcomes of me agreeing and disagreeing, weighing them carefully so that I could make the more beneficial decision.

“Come on. You’ll get to be with Taeyong more. And I’ll have Jiung. Win-win situation, right?”

I sighed, inhaling as my chest puffs up.

“Alright.”

Yuta: How’s it going?

Me: amazingg :D

“Who are you texting?” Taeyong asked, I placed my phone down to the side, screen faced down. “No one.”

This is the sixteenth outing with Taeyong after that day. I was able to spend time with Taeyong a lot more, just like before. And probably just like it should. I’ve seen Yuta posting more often on his Instagram stories, mostly of him and Jiung. Our plan of keeping them apart is working. Though Yuta told me that it was Jiung who’s constantly asking to meet up with Taeyong, he was able to force her to hang out with him instead, giving her no chance whatsoever. It was extremely helpful.

I know this whole situation sounds as if I’m being evil or whatever you call it. But why wouldn’t I accept a chance to be closer to Taeyong?

“Should we head to the carnival after this? Or desserts first? Oh I want to head to that new ice cream shop! Ten said it’s delicious but extremely crowded. I don’t mind waiting since I’ll have you to annoy.” Taeyong rambled on. I laughed happily, taking in this moment. I want to treasure such simple moments like these. I want it to be in a snow globe; something remembered forever.

“Do anything you please, Yong.” I chuckled, flashing an eye smile.

Just then, the bell above the restaurant’s door opened, signalling a new costumer coming in. Taeyong widened his eyes at the door. I tilted my head at his weird action, turning around to see just what made him react that way.

“Jiung?” “Yuta?” The two of us whispered at the same time.

Jiung’s eyes immediately went to Taeyong, her face lighting up at the sight of him as she tried to make her way over. But Yuta stopped her by the shoulders. I now understood what Yuta meant by saying, “She’s so attracted to him.”

While Jiung was struggling to eacape Yuta’s strong grasp, Taeyong was halfway off his seat. I immediately reached a hand to place on his arm. “Where you going?” I asked, faking a smile when in reality I was getting nervous.

“Wanting to say hi to Jiung.” Taeyong was about to alide himself off his seat so I grabbed his arm, trying to stop him in the most natural way possible. “I don’t think you should. She seems busy.” I tugged on his arm slightly, an attempt to get him to sit back down. “But it looks like she’s struggling. I- Wait here.” Taeyong noticed how I was trying so hard to stop him from leaving. He raised a brow and shook my hand off in an instant, his strength powering over my desires.

I followed behind him. Taeyong forcefully removed Yuta away from Jiung and Yuta’s eyes immediately glanced to mine. Both of us sending nervous signals to each other in that split second. “What the hell were you doing to her?” Taeyong growled lowly, his voice and tone suddenly growing dark as he held Jiing’s wrist, his body standing in front of hers as if he’s protecting her.

“I was just getting her out of the restaurant since it’s quite packed.” Yuta awkwardly replied with an excuse. “No you were purposely stopping me from going to Taeyong.” Jiung fought back. I stood there frozen, watching by the sidelines as nervousness started rising in me. Are they going to find out about my plan with Yuta?

“I think it’s just a misunderstanding. You two can go now.” I ripped Taeyong’s tight hold around Jiung’s wrist, dragging him back to stand beisde me. “I just want to chat with Taey-”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Move along now.” I tried to shove Yuta and Jiung out the door. Taeyong’s hand suddenly gripped onto mine. I looked up instantly.

“Pause. You’re very acting weird. What’s going on?” Taeyong’s voice was raised higher than before. A few people were staring at us. “Nothing...” I whispered, looking down. I was now scared to the bone. I didn’t know what to reply, how to cover it up. It’s gonna have to slip out eventually. At least I was able to be with Taeyong more often.

“Yuta and I planned for you guys to never meet again.” That’s it. It’s all over. With that simple line of confession, the truth was now out. No where left to hide or run. Yuta smacked me on the arm, making me wince. “What the heck?!” He half-shouted in a whisper.

“Are you serious? And for what? Jealous or something?” Taeyong was mad. So mad. And I felt it. I was so scared. I was shivering with every word he said. I gulped, avoiding eye contact with him. I didn’t need to give a reply. My body has said it all. A moment of silence filled with tension circled around us. Suddenly, Taeyong stormed out.

I panicked, immediately going back to the table we were at to grab my belongings and rushed out, wanting to stop Taeyong. I looked around frantically. I spotted him walking down the street on the left. I ran as fast as I could, my hand reaching out for him as I shouted his name countless of times, but he doesn’t respond as if he was deaf.

“Taeyong, please!” I cried out. I finally had his wrist tightly around my fingers. He turned around sharply. He tried to walk away, but I tried harder to grip onto the hem of his sweater tighter. “What?”

I realised at that very moment that I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to stop him, but I never thought of what to do afterwards. I wanted to say “Don’t leave.” But it never left my lips.

I stood there silently, my thumb caressing against the cloth as I bit my lip hard. “Hello?” Taeyong asked, annoyed. That one simple word hit me, right on the heart. It was like an arrow, painfully accurate at where its being shot. Just as how one word from him could light up my day, and one word from him can make it come crashing down as well. His change in tone and mood was quick and intense. I couldn’t stop thinking about being terrified.

I eventually took in a deep breath, opening my tote bag and taking out the book that I have forgotten to give him that day while I was spying on him.

“Here. Have it, as a present.” I brushed a hand down the back of my head, my fingers combing through the ends as I turned around and walked away in the opposite direction after shoving the book to Taeyong’s chest, remembering the note was somewhere in there but I never bothered knowing exactly where.

My breathing started to become unstable. The further I walked away, the urge of falling down to the ground and collapsing became stronger. But I continued walking, telling myself to stay strong the whole way till I reach home. “You can cry on the floor all you want. Just quickly get home now.” I kept whispering to myself, begging my legs to speed up but my wobbly knees were not helping.

I cried that night. Very hard. The whole scene of kept replaying like a movie tape. All I could think about was how mad Taeyong looked. With his voice and eyes. It was a look I’ve never seen on him before. It was like a completely new side of him. The entire opposite of what he usually was. I now realised that he’s one of those “Their all butterflies and rainbows till they get pissed off.” That phrase cannot be any more true in regards to Taeyong.

Every day I tried to meet Taeyong. At the bar, his home, the bookstore. Anywhere he could be. He wasn’t replying to my texts, or calls. He probably blocked me. And on his socials as well. He wasn’t responding to me at all. I got worried sick. Is he never going to talk to me ever again?

Constantly, I mentally slammed my head against an imaginary wall, thinking about how I never thought of this outcome while weighing out the possible aftermath of the decision I made. How could I be so stupid, so reckless?

I eventually gave up trying to get in contact with him. He needed time and space away from me, completely. The hole this made in my heart was deep, like a dried up well with vines that has sharp long thorns growing in them. And every time I thought about Taeyong, I am constantly being pierced by those thorns of regret and agony, pricking deeper into my skin the more I fell deeper.

It was choking me; Taeyong’s absence. I couldn’t breathe at all. I was sinking, gasping for air each time I longed for him. I just wanted him back. I wanted things to get back to normal. I wanted to be us again.

Two months have passed. It was the worst two months of my life. Worst than the exam stress I had for last year’s final project. I had university to worry about on top of Taeyong. I was mentally going through hell. And again, the worst one yet. And it was now that I realised, I’d be much better off having him as a friend than anything less. But I was selfish enough to not treasure it that way, and it’s now finally gone. Completely out of my reach.

One night, I was up. Doing assignments. Nothing’s new. Nothing’s changed. Taeyong has yet to open up to me. I glanced at the clock on my phone, groaning as I let my head fall on the table. I closed my eyes. I was too stressed. The world’s spinning too fast. I needed it to stop for awhile. My brain can’t bear this much.

As if on cue, the door bell rang while I lifted my head off the table. My head slowly turned to my room door. The bell rang again. A few seconds later, it rang yet again. Whoever’s outside was frustrated or something, jamming their fingers on the bell while saying “I’ll keep annoying you till you open this damn door.”

I pushed my chair back and walked over to the door. I looked through the peek hole. Taeyong...? I opened the door. On instinct, I grabbed him by his waist while his body fell on me. His face tilted up to meet mine. His cheeks were flushed red. His eyes were half opened and looking around as if stars are swirling above his head. He’s drunk.

“Good night. I wanna go in.” Taeyong whispered. Yup, he’s drunk. His breath reeked or alcohol as he spoke. I stood there for a moment, needing to process the current situation. At three in the morning, Taeyong showed up here drunk. I can think about why later. But now I had to figure out a way to carry his heavy body into the living room.

Taeyong wrapped his arms around my waist, sticking his body against mine. “You’re so warm.” I blinked rapidly. I looked down on him. I can’t believe it. He’s here. After two months of ignoring, he can simply show up here. Drunk, even. Worst of all, I still had the love to move along with this. The anger was still there. It’s just that his sudden presence made me forget about it a little while.

Out of the blue, like a marionette on strings, he jerkily push himself off me and staggered his way to the lviing room. I followed closely behind, not bothering to turn on the lights. I didn’t feel the need to. I sat down at the edge of the couch while he laid his body down. He giggled to himself and muttered things I couldn’t understand. I know what he’s like when drunk. Unstable, crazy, a lightweight. Will not remember a single thing the next morning.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, not even sure why. Why did I bother asking when he won’t remember any of this the next day? Well, he’s here now. And no matter what state he was in, I just wanted answers.

“To thank you. Me thank you. Mwah!” Taeyong puckered his lips in the end, eyes closed and shaking his head furiously. His fluffy hair moving along. I smacked my bottom lip and nodded. “For what exactly?”

“For getting rid of Jiung for me. She’s so annoying. I’d much rather be with you.” Taeyong mumbled, finger slowly pointing up to me. Unconsciously, I pointed back to myself too. “Me?” Taeyong pursed his lips into a thin line and nodded firmly. “Uhuh. Yes, right. Mhm.”

I kept silent for a moment. “That wasn’t really what I got from how you reacted two months ago.” Suddenly, Taeyong forcefully gripped onto my wrist, pulling me down. I let out a soft gasp, realising that my body was laying on top of his. We stared at each other for a long while, the close proximity making it so that I could feel his cold breath on my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I breathed heavily as I felt my face getting hot. Stop it. Why are you falling for him too quickly?

“Go home, Taeyong.” I whispered so softly in a calming and light tone. Taeyong whined in response. He was now pouting with his big boba eyes. He looked like a sad puppy. My heart instantly melted at the sight. I couldn’t resist. “I’m staying here.” He said in a high pitch voice, hugging me closer and putting me in an uncomfortable position for my body. Regardless, I stayed.

After two months he was finally here, and in my arms. This night might not mean anything to him but it made me feel relived. The fact that he remembered my house, my name, me. Whether it was just the alcohol driving him to do such things that are out of his control, I didn’t mind. All I needed was for him to be here. It felt good to be with him for that one night. Just one night was all I needed. It didn’t stop my anger for him about the fact that he ignored me, but I was okay with it. That night, I let it go. All I wanted was to feel such peace with Taeyong.

We ended up sleeping together on the small couch. I woke up with terrible body aches but either way, I sighed in relief when I woke up before Taeyong. I tried finding his phone, that was hidden under the crack of the cushions. I typed in his password. I memorise it like how he memorise mine. I went to his contacts and called the one person I knew.

“I have a favour to ask, Ten.” I said nervously as I watch him carry Taeyong into his car. He hummed, pulling his head out of the car and slamming the door. “Don’t tell him he went here.” Ten gave a half-shrug, nodding his head in response. “Sure. I’m not sure what’s going on between you two, but it seems like a lot. Should solve it soon.”

“Yeah... I hope so.”

16th October.

I’ve lost count on the number of love letters I’ve given you. I can’t give them to you anymore, since you don’t even want anything to do with me. I can’t blame you. I knew you’d be pissed. I was hesitant on doing it but I was so selfish, wanting you all to myself. But what can I do, Taeyong? I’ve wanted you for so long. Yet you’re so delusional of my feelings. How could you have not read any of of my letters? Perhaps you have and chose to ignore it. That’s more painful than you being upfront and rejecting me. As much as I allow you to hate on me, I’d still say this. Fuck you, Lee Taeyong.

23rd October.

I saw you at the bar. You look... happy. Without me. You act as if nothing happened. Like I never happened. I wonder if you’re just putting on an act, or are you actually okay without me by your side. Are you still mad? Did you forget about it but have gotten use to not being with me? I want to know Taeyong so please, respond. That’s all I ask from you. Fuck that. You don’t even have to talk. I just want you here with me. Whether the air around us will be filled with tension, I don’t care. What I’m going through, is not nice, Taeyong. It is punishment for my actions. But how long do I have to keep it up? How long to I have to suffer to take a breath? For you to pull me out of this mess with your forgiveness. I’m falling apart.

14th December.

Wow. It’s December already. I’m sitting at the park we go to every Christmas. We’d be freezing to death but still glued to the bench chatting about life since we just loved being out in the snow. And yet, you never got back to me. I found out from Jiung that you left the country but never said where. I miss you, Lee Taeyong. I’m tired. So tired, of constantly penning my feelings down on pieces of paper. Words I can never say to you out loud, are all in the letters in your books that you never bothered to open. I even hid one between the books of your huge ass shelf. Why haven’t you said anything about them? I know I should move on, because it really does seem like you never want to talk to me ever again. I’m losing hope, more faster than before as each day pass, wondering where the hell as you and how you’re doing. I keep telling myself “Let it be. Let him have his moment.” But I wonder if you ever think about how I’m bearing all of this as well. That without you, I might never be able to forgive myself.

I slide the notes under Taeyong’s apartment door. I knew he was out of the country. Some nights I’d sit by his door, the note in hand as I envision him in his house. I couldn’t think about what he’s doing. And I constantly ponder about it. Is he eating well? Sleeping well? Is he enjoying himself wherever he’s at? Months passed. And as time went on, I began to wonder if my letters were even worth writing. Why was I giving so much? Why am I going through such lengths, physically and emotionally, for Taeyong to be okay? Why am I bearing such emotions when it’s not even certain that I’ll be given the same in return.

I’m making a promise to myself. I’ll let go of Lee Taeyong. I’ll slowly, bit by bit, remove my feelings out of my heart. It’s not worth it, I kept telling myself. I’m meaninglessly suffering for someone who is isn’t appreciating it. So why should I go on? I loved you, Lee Taeyong. I changed my words. I loved you.

And that was the last love letter I wrote.

Along my journey to forgetting Taeyong, I suffered a lot. I was always drawn back to him. I was always willing to put my pen on paper and just write something to him. About anything. It was a bad habit that needed to stop. I had to let go years of feelings that were being pilled up in my heart. And it was something that’s extremely hard to let go. But other than my own factors, there were external, circumstantial ones as well. Whether it was coincidental or not, that was something I can never know the answer to.

I was on my laptop, casually scrolling through Pinterest to calm myself with the aesthetics of random things. Room decor, clothing ideas, handsome idols. Anything that can take my mind off my billions of overloaded projects for awhile.

I didn’t know how, but I ended up looking at quotes, Japanese ones to be exact. The deep meaning of words. Some were heartfelt while other were heartbreaking. I read them off casually till I paused at one.

‘Tsundoku— buying books and not reading them; letting books pile up unread on shelves, floors, or nightstands.’

I scoffed to myself, pinching my temples as I shook my head. It’s just like you, Lee Taeyong. “Fucking hell.” I mumbled, slamming the laptop shut. I’ve been able to not think about Taeyong for a long time now. Or at least I felt like it was a long time. I wasn’t going to let a word get me off course. I placed my laptop on the bed and went back to my study table, suddenly feeling motivated to continue as a way to distract myself from thinking about him.

Thinking that I wouldn’t be facing that state of dilemma again, I just so happen to see a quote the first thing I entered Pinterest.

‘If they were meant to reunite, they had to go separate ways.’

I was then reminded of Taeyong yet again. But I don’t think I was thinking about him as a person, but our relationship. Just our relationship. Having to part ways as a mean to reunite. That’s something I found hard to believe. Why am I having hope that it’ll happen when I highly doubt I’ll experience it? Why is my mind slowly pulling me back to the memories I have with Taeyong? I want him long gone. I want him holed up in the corner of my mind, out of sight, out of mind. But things are always popping up randomly around me, and it all reminded me of him. I feel like it’s his doing, funny enough. Constantly hinting about him with almost everything I come across.

“What the fuck?”

I looked at the Youtube home screen and what was recommended for me. One of the videos had Taeyong’s name. And his face was on the thumbnail. The title? Lee Taeyong | Freestyle dance | Paris In The Rain (Lauv) My finger moved on its own, bringing the cursor to the video and clicking on it.

As I expected, the video was taken in Paris. So that’s where he has been. He was in Paris this whole time without my notice. I was shocked to find that the video has tons of likes and view. I read through the comments. They were all swooning over Taeyong.

“Who wouldn’t?” I said to myself. I scrolled up and played the video. My eyes didn’t leave the screen for a second. I was frozen, not being able to move an inch as I watched, completely in awe. Firstly, Taeyong has his hair dyeda light ashy grey or blue. It suited him well, all too well. His dancing was immensely beautiful. Anyone would fall for him. Visuals, talent. He has it all. Dancer by day, bartender by night. He looked so free and alive in his dance. Serving the world with a hard punch with his deep emotions that were imbued perfectly into his movements.

I bit my lower lip. Fuck. I felt it. The goosebumps, the quivering of my lips. My eyes started to well up with tears. “No, this is not happening again.” The video was still playing, the music ringing in my ears but I couldn’t bear to look at the video. I was watching Taeyong, living the perfect life in Paris. What more could he needed? I clearly wasn’t in his equation. I’m completely gone, removed out of his life. No trace of my presence to be found.

The longer I think, the more I forced myself not to cry. Eventually, being weakling I am, I ended up falling deep into the harsh and intense whirl pool that is my feelings once again, a place I never visited in a long while. The feelings started dancing in my mind like butterflies flapping in unison to the soundtrack of my sadness. I could only assume that it’s what the world wants. It’s how it wants to spin, how it wants to work.

Eight months. I actually counted how long I’ve lost contact with Taeyong for. It didn’t bother me. I was trying to live a life. It’s getting better. It took a lot of baby steps. But I’m feeling a whole lot lighter now. It’s March.

I was walking back from University when my phone started vibrating in my hand since I’ve always left it on silent mode. I lifted it up. It was an unknown number. Instinctively, I chose to not pick up the call. But a few seconds later, the same number showed up on the screen. With a light groan, I picked up and brought the phone to my ear.

“Hello? Who is this?” I asked formally, waiting by the traffic light. I heard the person on the other hand breathe out a chuckle, almost like a disappointed kind. “Who the-”

“So you deleted my number?” That voice... No doubt. It was Lee fucking Taeyong. “Meet me. My home. You got ten minutes.” The call ended.

Rapidly blinking my eyes, I slowly brought down the phone. I read over the number again. It was Taeyong’s phone. Why didn’t I remember it? I used to know it. It’s one of the few things I used to be able to tell off the top of my head. “Ten minutes?” I looked at the time.

I don’t know what urged me, but I ran. I ran as fast as I could. The unknown force. It was unfamiliarly familiar. If that made sense. I was able to live a life without Taeyong. I was. I was capable of it. And that’s what I did. But at the very moment, I felt the need to see him. The spontaneous out of the blue kind of feel. It was all just pouring out of me.

I stood at his doorstep, hand on my chest and other as support for my body against the wall. Panting heavily, I tried to slowly calm myself down. I gulped, and rang the doorbell. No turning back.

The door flung open. And there stood Taeyong. He still had his ashy hair colour. His face never changed a single bit. Nor did his overall physique. He was still handsome, breathtaking. “Come in.”

I sucked my lips and sidled in timidly and warily. Nothing has changed in his house as well. The large bookshelf with the television in the centre. I started to remember the love letters. All of them are hidden in the pages of the books in that very shelf. It reminded me of my feelings for him.

I sat down on the leather couch as Taeyong disappeared into the kitchen. I kept my head faced forward, placing my tote bag down, leaning it against the couch on the floor. Taeyong came back moments later. Two plates with a slice of cheesecake. He handed on to me. “Try it.” He said.

I slowly took a bite. Chewing on it, I scrunched up my nose, placing the plate down on the table. “I hate it. Tastes too artificial.” I commented dryly. Taeyong chuckled and cleared his throat. “Knew you’d say that.” Taeyong shoved a bite into his mouth, eating it as he placed the plate beside mine. “Want to know why you’re here?”

I bobbed my shoulders. This atmosphere, the air between us. It wasn’t awkward at all. Though our words were dry and short, it felt normal. It wasn’t weird being next to him after not seeing him for eight months.

Taeyong stood up, taking small steps to the shelf. As if practiced, he pulled out one letter from a book, another, and another, and another. It was never ending. It took him at least ten minutes to slide out all the letters and placing them on the table. I silently watch, my anxiety turning up a notch with each letter.

He finally took what I hoped was the last letter and went back to sit next to me. A specific letter is held in his hand. He unfolded it, placing the paper on the table and turning it so that I could read.

It was my last love letter.

“So you knew.” I whispered, looking down, leaning forward as I laced my fingers together. I took in a deep breath, my eyes scanning down the note before turning my head to Taeyong. “Then why the fuck didn’t you do anything about it?”

Taeyong lifted the paper off the table, holding it in front of him. He reread it. Running a hand through hair, chest puffing up as he inhaled and exhaled sharply. “Because I wanted you to keep writing to me.”

“What...?” That was definitely not an answer I was expecting.

Taeyong licked his lips, smacking them before sniffling a rubbing his nose. He lets out a weak chuckle. “I liked them. From your handwriting, to your words. I felt it; your love, with each letter.” He whispered softly.

I simply couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was the explanation and truth I’ve been wanting to hear for months. This is what kept me up at night, what led me to have my mental breakdowns, the constant ‘what if’s I formulated throughout. “You just like them? Taeyong if you’re rejecting fucking do it now-” I was about to scream, but Taeyong was quick to cut me off.

“In a way it felt like you were writing a book. One just for me. That’s why I never bothered to read any other books. I just needed yours. Your... simply overpowering pain in the heart love letters.” Taeyong smiled down at the letter, hovering his fingers over the words.

“And I don’t just like the love letters. I love the author. Paris made me realise that. It took me that long. And I’m sorry for how long you needed to wait.”

“What do you love about the author?”

I could tell Taeyong was taken aback by that question. And I knew he would react that way. He still knew me well, bouncing back and giving a confident answer.

“I don’t want to sound common by saying it’s her smile, laughter, brightness. But it truly is what I love about her. All the times we’ve spent were filled with nothing but pure bliss. Serenity, is what I feel when I’m with her. Longing, like I was meant to be by her side. I’ve known her long enough to know every single detail about her, ones that maybe she doesn’t even know herself. Like how drinks two straws when she’s sad, or having the habit of twiddling her thumbs when she’s excited. Little things like those, I find them adorable. No matter what she is, a nerd, weirdo, plain crackhead, it’s... the energy, her own energy. A light and force only she could illuminate.”

I couldn’t say anything. I frozen stiff by his words. He actually meant it. I could feel it through his voice. He stuttered here and there nervously, finding words to say. But he was able to structure them in the most beautiful way possible. I had no words to say.

Suddenly, Taeyong slowly brought his hand up to cup my cheek. That one touch alone made me feel a lot of things. It was like I was hit by a huge wave of feelings all bunched up together and crashing over me. But it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle. It was overwhelming, but I was calm. I was at peace. It felt good. Just this.

He slowly and carefully swiped his thumbs across my cheeks like I’m the most fragile thing in the world. His touch was lightweight and simply serene. “Another thing the author doesn’t know about herself is that she really doesn’t know when she’s crying and spilling out tears.”

I blinked my eyes, Taeyong smoothing his hands from my cheeks and to my shoulders, placing them there firmly as his eyes stared into mine. I can’t exactly explain what I felt. But it was like the stars aligned, as cliche as that sounds.

‘If they were meant to reunite, they had to go separate way.’ I resonated with this now. I understood what it meant. Our months of separation were all for this exact moment. Both of us suffered, one trying to find themselves again while the other needing the time to realise that what’s most valuable was right in front of him. We needed that gap, for us to reunite and actually be able to love each other properly and willingly. Which definitely would not be a trouble now.

183 notes · View notes

renaerys · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt 50. But Berserk & Boomer😔👉👈💕

50. “I thought you left.”

We’re calling this one Unfortunately, She Impressed Him. This is a pair of characters I love with all my heart in any flavor of relationship and can’t wait to write more of in my ongoing multi-chapter fic Trinity House over on AO3.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Boomer was halfway across the deserted lobby of Faust Keating Rogers, LLP when he realized he’d forgotten his keys at his desk. He groaned aloud because it was 8 p.m. and no one was around to hear him because they had all gone home to their families hours ago like normal people. Boomer didn’t have two to three kids and a house in the suburbs, though, and neither did his boss. The three hour lull reserved for dinner, baths, and bedtimes before the evening work-from-home grind offered him no alternative but to power through. He fully planned to grab take out on his way home and enjoy an episode of whatever was on HBOMax before getting back to the tedious work of reviewing the draft prospectus statement his boss had sent him to proof by tomorrow morning.

Except, his keys were forty floors up and he now had to risk running into her again when he’d managed to slip away so neatly. He’d even removed his tie on the elevator ride down, and now he rubbed his exposed neck, flushed with anxiety over what might happen if she saw him and asked him to stick around to finish the work here.

“Nice going, dumbass,” he lamented as he stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the fortieth floor.

It wasn’t that Boomer disliked his job. In fact, he didn’t mind it at all. It was better than slinging drinks or waiting tables. He had health insurance, a steady paycheck, and a resumé that could proudly display the name of one of the most elite accounting firms in the country. He could pivot his career if he wanted to, as Brick would say. Boomer wasn’t thinking about his next job right now, though. Right now, he was thinking about this one and how his boss was a hard-ass and a workaholic even if she was brilliant, and how there was a one hundred percent chance she would detect him coming back to his desk (which was annoyingly set up right in front of her office so that he could answer her calls, manage her meetings, and deal with whoever passed close enough to her event horizon to get suckered into the latest heinous audit in need of staffing).

There were his traitorous keys sitting on the desk next to the framed picture of his brothers. He glared at them, as if they were a forgotten household item that had developed a supernatural grudge like in those old Japanese folktales he liked to read online. He half expected them to jingle and alert his boss to his presence, just to spite him.

They didn’t, and he slipped them into his pocket as quietly as could be. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a beat. It was quiet. Most of the offices were dark, save for a few poor souls in the large conference room stuck on the ongoing year-end audit for one of the firm’s most important clients: Unicorn, Inc. His boss’s office was also lit up behind her closed door, but she hadn’t called out to him like she would during the day when he got back from his lunch break hoping for a few minutes to catch up on emails in peace before she dumped more work on him.

This, of course, was odd. The small legion of assistants who had come before Boomer were notorious for their short-term employment working this specific desk. The work was demanding and so was the boss, but there was something else that set her apart from other senior associates in the International Tax Services division, something that seemed to intimidate away any support the higher ups sent her way. Denise a couple desks down had warned Boomer not to bring too many personal effects to the office; chances were he wasn’t going to last long. Boomer had smiled thinly and thanked Denise for her advice, and brought the picture of his brothers in the next morning because he had his pride and Brick told him it was healthy to indulge that once in a while. Brick would certainly know.

So here he was, uncertain. Anxiety over having to sit here for another two hours finishing work and having tepid Doordash delivered pulled him toward the elevator and escape, while that annoying, rare pride demanded he check on his boss and make sure she knew he was here to support her, lest she get the idea that he needed to be fired.

The longer he stood there, indecisive, the greater his curiosity grew. What was she doing in there? It was quiet, even when he strained his Super hearing. He could hear Dean Matheson pouring whiskey a few offices down (that guy had a drinking problem and everyone knew they only kept him around because he had the Unicorn, Inc. account), Adebayo Hansou on a conference call with Dubai that was escalating to profanity, Shelly Kim with her head down and typing away at an Excel spreadsheet like a pro. Their assistants were long gone for the night, but here was Boomer, loitering and indecisive and what is she doing in there not yelling at me when she definitely knows I’m here?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked on the closed door—rap, rap, rap—and called out softly, “Berserk?”

A beat, then: “Come in.”

Finding his boss in upward facing dog while still in her pencil skirt was not a sight Boomer was prepared for. Berserk had her eyes closed as she stretched at a near ninety degree angle and listened to music on her Airpods. Boomer had never seen her with her heels off and her mane of red hair thrown together in a messy bun; it was so casual that it was almost obscene.

“You’re staring.”

Fuck, he was staring and now she was looking right at him down her nose, even though she was the one on the floor. He stood up straighter, unable to help himself when she took that tone that reminded him so much of Brick’s when he was about to criticize, but he didn’t avert his gaze. “Sorry.”

She breathed in deeply through her nose and hoisted herself up into downward dog position. “Why are you here?”

Forgot my keys seemed like a really lame excuse that she’d probably laugh at him for, but he also was not in the habit of making shit up on the spot if he hoped to make people believe him. “I forgot my keys.” He took them from his pocket to show her, as if she might not know what keys are, as a concept.

“Smart locks.” Berserk exhaled and slowly walked her hands back on the yoga mat until she reached her feet and began to swing slowly left and right.

Huh? he almost said like an idiot, until he caught himself. “Don’t think my landlord would approve of me installing that.” Also, those things were like $200 a pop, which was not worth the occasional inconvenience and shame of forgetting his keys and then catching his boss doing yoga in her office after hours.

Berserk made some noncommittal sound like whatever, peasant and slowly uncurled upward one vertebra at a time. Boomer realized he was back to staring again, literally lingering in her door watching her and trying to equate this subdued, casual version of Berserk with the terse, no-nonsense businesswoman he was used to dealing with on a daily basis.

When she finally achieved her full height, she popped her neck. The hair that was too short for her bun fell in around her narrow face in a stylish, athleisure sort of way. The top buttons on her blouse were undone. She wore a small, golden necklace he’d never noticed before because he wasn’t in the habit of checking out his boss. “I thought you left.”

The accusatory nature of her words were totally at odds with her flat tone, only the barest hint of curiosity dangling there at the end, like she expected him to respond.

Oh, she expected him to respond.

Boomer took another step into her office because he was full of poor judgment today. “I forgot my keys.”

At which point he showed her his keys again and also had a mild stroke, because what the fuck are you doing, mate?

Berserk smiled. “Yeah, I got that part.”

Was she laughing at him? He had never heard her laugh before, unless it was at Dean Matheson, that comb-over in denial who, in addition to being a high functioning alcoholic, also had a reputation for throwing associates under the bus when a client wasn’t happy.

Boomer smiled back, because that was what he did when people smiled at him, and ‘people’ now included Berserk, apparently.

“Well, since you’re here,” she said as she padded around to her desk.

Crap, there was the work he was afraid of soliciting from her by remaining in the building. He debated an excuse to give her: picking up dry cleaning? Plausible, but transparent. Meeting up with his brothers? No, she’d probably make him stay all night for the chance to ruin Brick’s plans.

“Thai or Mexican?”

Boomer stared dumbly. He was becoming quite good at that (10,000 hours and you can become an expert at anything, they say). “Huh?”

The yoga must have put Berserk in an exceedingly gracious mood, because she actually repeated her question without getting that look on her face like she was picturing him getting trampled by stampeding monsters. “Thai or Mexican? I don’t have a preference.”

Oh.

Boomer’s stomach picked that time to snarl at him—8 p.m. and still no dinner, the fiend.

Berserk snorted in laughter and fanned herself with her phone. “Jesus. Mexican it is.”

Which was how Boomer found himself on the small sofa tucked in the corner of Berserk’s office, shoes off and belt loosened, with enough tacos, tamales, and rice and beans to feed a small family. He even had a beer from the mini fridge Berserk kept under her desk.

She hadn’t stayed late to work. Well, she had, but only because she didn’t have a reason to go home.

“I just hate getting home to a dark apartment sometimes,” she said in between bites of food. She had her legs tucked up under her on the sofa close enough to brush Boomer’s thigh if he reached to grab the salsa.

“I thought you lived with your sister?”

“Brute got her own place a few months ago. The arrangement was only temporary while she was in between jobs.”

It was weird knowing so little about a person whose whole family had been in Boomer’s inner orbit since childhood. As far as he knew, Berserk wasn’t close to any of her cousins, not even Blossom. Boomer himself had never been more eager to leave a room than when Brat walked into it. Only Butch, Brute, and Buttercup had ever found common ground among each other once the sworn rivalries and blood feuds of their youth gave way to teenage rebellion against their respective overlord fathers and then the slog of adulthood that was inescapable even for a bunch of Supers flying high on Chemical X.

The fact that Boomer had gotten this job surprised him more than anyone. After drifting from restaurant jobs to office temp placements over the last six years, he’d never thought he would dust off his economics degree and land a temp-to-permanent position that seemed way above his qualifications. And he never thought it would be working for a woman he’d most definitely electrocuted in battle at least a dozen times before puberty.

“What?”

Boomer blinked. He’d been staring again, Jesus Christ. “Sorry, I was just thinking… I didn't know that. I’ve been working here for five months and I don’t actually know much about you at all.”

“Hm.”

Her magenta eyes were wine-dark against the murky sky beyond the window forty stories up. Boomer did avert his gaze this time to reach for the salsa, but he didn’t use it.

“I don’t even know why you invited me to stay for dinner in the office if we’re not going to do any work.”

“Why did you stay?”

“For the free food.”

Berserk grinned—the third time she had smiled at him tonight (or ever). He needed to stop counting; he’d be disappointed when it stopped happening tomorrow.

“Don’t get used to it. Much as I appreciate the company now and again, there’s no need for both of us to be stuck here while Matheson’s breathing down the associates’ necks. Can’t have him poaching you out from under me.”

“Well, I don’t work for him; I work for you.”

“It’s sweet how you don’t understand office politics.” She ate a lone slice of avocado with a fork. “He landed Unicorn back when they were early stage, and back when he was still putting in the work to earn his reputation. But since they IPO’d three years ago and make up twenty percent of our revenue now, he’s just another big name coasting by on associate work. You know he regularly schedules client calls and just doesn’t bother to show up? He forgets half the time, and the other half he’s busy playing golf or buying a yacht or whatever the fuck rich, white Boomers do.”

“Well, as a Boomer myself, I can say I’ve spent exactly zero hours buying yachts.”

She chuckled. Fourth time. “Oh, really.”

“Never even thought of yachts. As far as I’m concerned, they’re not even real.”

“Thanks for your expert opinion.”

“Any time.” Boomer turned his body to face her and draped his arm over the back of the sofa. With only the soft light from the floor lamp in the corner, he imagined himself adrift in the darkness, the sky scraper lights nearby stars. It was a lonely thought, one made romantic in the knowledge that she was here too, and he wasn’t actually alone.

“Matheson almost did poach you, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Boomer couldn’t recall exchanging more than a few words with the man.

“When we were filling support positions. Someone recognized you from the news a few years back, when the Cyclops Monster attacked the marina district and you and your brothers took it out. Matheson got it in his head that you’d be able to work at Super speed and help lower his billables.”

“Wow. Maybe you should’ve let him. What do you think the net savings would be in yacht units of measurement?”

Berserk rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I claimed you before he could get the paperwork in.”

Boomer hyper-focused on that word: claimed. He also pointedly ignored it entirely, much in the same way he ignored the new count of five smiles tonight. “Showed him your bending powers, did you?”

Berserk’s Corona bottle turned frosty under her hand in a totally unnecessary, big dick energy display of said powers, and she took another sip. “No. Sharon from HR likes me. And I promised her I wouldn’t fire you after three months like your predecessors.”

Flattered was not how Boomer would describe the feeling of being claimed by Berserk and eluding Matheson’s vampiric clutches. But he was a bit tickled all the same. This was the woman Butch had once described as essentially Brick, if he were constipated all the time.

And then he realized what she was doing. “Hey, you’re sharing things about yourself.”

She clinked her bottle to his, and Boomer shivered at the frosty chill she transferred on contact. “Aw, you figured it out all by yourself.”

“Ha ha.”

She didn’t quite smile, but she did look kind of serene then, content even, as she lay back against the arm of the sofa and yawned. Her gold necklace—just a simple disk with an engraving Boomer could not make out—reflected the lamp light when she moved. It rested just beneath her collarbone, which had suddenly become the single-most interesting part of Berserk, and oh no, was he interested—

“You’re staring again.”

Son of a bitch.

“Sorry,” he said automatically. “I didn’t mean to.”

Hard no. He was not allowed to be any percent attracted to Berserk. First, she was his boss, and there was a cliché here that, while subverted on the gender role spectrum, was still very risky for both of them. Second, she was Berserk, a fellow Super, cousin to his best friend Bubbles and a shrewd, stiletto bitch in Brick’s estimation, which sounded bad. Not that she was bad, or even evil, unless you counted helping rich corporations accurately report their taxes while taking advantage of the many egregious loopholes in the Internal Revenue Code. Which, okay, point taken, but he also worked here and anyway, people should not be deemed good or evil so much as their choices ought to be—

“Are you thinking about fucking me?”

You shrewd, stiletto bitch!

She was smiling again, and Boomer pathetically logged that as the sixth time, although he wasn’t sure he should count it given the overt malice behind it.

Unfortunately, Boomer was, as had been previously established, very bad at making shit up on the fly. So he miserably said, “Yeah.”

“Hm.”

She sipped her beer slowly, and of course he watched. If it was out in the open, as fleeting a bout of insanity as it may have been, at least he could wallow in it without worrying about appearances.

It was the yoga. That fucking upward facing dog, Jesus Christ.

It was more than that too. Over the last few months, he had worked closely with her, watched her navigate the cutthroat halls full of piranhas like Matheson and other account managers, getting herself work on the best clients while managing her juniors with efficiency and professionalism. She was excellent and sharp, and she demanded excellency and sharpness in kind. After years of going it alone or temping for bosses who didn’t care enough even to learn his name, much less provide him with guidance and mentorship, it was an unspeakable relief to work under someone who knew how to rally the troops. Someone who knew how to lead, how to motivate, and how to reward loyalty with loyalty in return. It didn’t hurt that she looked amazing in her daily stilettos, either.

Unfortunately, she impressed him.

“I have some work to get done tonight.” Berserk stood up and smoothed her skirt.

Boomer scrambled to his feet. “Of course! Um.” He began closing food containers and repackaging them in the bags they’d come in, because he was panicking. “I’ll get rid of the trash. Do you want the leftovers in the fridge?”

“You take them. Otherwise my office will smell like a burrito for a week.”

“Okay.” Numbly, Boomer finished packing everything up, while Berserk made her way back to her desk and logged into her computer to check her emails.

Boomer lingered at the door. “I’ll have the prospectus back to you later tonight.”

“Thanks.”

Wow, way to go, stud.

He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him.

“Boomer?”

“Yeah?”

“Friday is good.”

He stared back at her in expert mode. “Huh?”

Berserk poked her head around the side of her large, external monitor. She was smiling again. Lucky number seven. “For fucking.”

“Okay,” Boomer said.

Okay?!

She pulled back behind her monitor. “I was going to get a cat, but you’ll do much better.”

Because she didn’t like going home to a dark, empty apartment alone. With no one to fuck.

“That was a joke.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he croaked.

Friday is for fucking, he thought, which was delightful alliteration and also completely insane and one hundred percent something he was getting more on board with by the nanosecond.

“See you tomorrow,” she said.

Boomer clutched the leftover Mexican food in his fist. “Okay. Goodnight.”

It took him the time to fly home and put the food away in his small fridge to realize that he had a sort-of date with Berserk lined up for two days from now.

He Y-posed at the window and whooped, “Hell yes!!”

Loud pounding in the floor followed by old Mrs. Cruikshank’s muffled Keep it down! couldn’t bring down his mood.

Boomer leaped onto his threadbare, living room sofa with his work laptop and took to the prospectus with alacrity. He’d send over superior work product and make Berserk’s job just that much easier tomorrow morning.

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House (which has a lot more Berserk and Boomer content, btw!) and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #bersoomer #ppg berserk #ppg boomer #september fic prompts #so this turned into a 3k one shot because i love these characters and i couldn't help myself #tfw considering a part 2

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little-mad · 3 years ago

Text

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 3

~ Previous Part ~ Next Part ~

Going through the portal from one dimension to another felt as simple as walking through a door. There was no flash of light, no weird tingly sensation all over Gavin’s body, no “welcome to a new dimension” announcement; Gavin could almost believe he was still back home...were it not for the fact that every single thing around him was mega sized.

Trees as tall as skyscrapers loomed overhead, and although he was looking down on them from Rael’s hip height, Gavin could still tell that even the wildflowers sticking out of the ground would be taller than him. He swore he even saw a chipmunk the size of a car scurrying up the side of a tree.

Suddenly, Gavin felt almost glad he was secured inside a cage. As much as he hated being confined, right now he didn’t feel like he could handle being out in the open, not with a bunch of big ass woodland creatures roaming about. Being attached to a big ass dude was bad enough.

Though he couldn’t see it from his current position, Gavin figured the portal they’d come through must have gone away, judging by the abrupt disappearance of the soft blue glow that the portal had been giving off a moment ago. “I’m officially closed off from the rest of humanity,” Gavin’s brain helpfully reminded him.

Glancing upward, Gavin caught Rael throwing him a brief look as if to ensure his captive was still there. The teal eyes examined him for only a moment before they returned to looking forward.

Gavin sighed. As intimidating as Rael was, he knew he couldn’t avoid talking to the guy forever. For one, he needed to ask his captor where exactly he was being taken, because in the middle of the woods hadn’t been what he’d been expecting. Gavin was admittedly not all that knowledgeable about alteon customs, but he was pretty sure they mostly lived in cities and towns.

Before Gavin even got the chance to mentally prepare himself for the prospect of addressing the alteon, he was bucked forward by the movement of the giant leg behind him.

Once again lying at the bottom of the cage, Gavin groaned. He was really beginning to sympathize with hamsters, lizards, and other handheld pets. Getting tossed around in a cage really sucked. Although, he figured most pets would be handled more carefully by their owners than Rael was currently handling him.

Every other step the aleton took jarred Gavin’s cage, meaning there was zero point in trying to stand up because he’d just be thrown to the floor again in an instant. Instead, he opted for sitting in the back with his arms wrapped around the iron bars for stability. It was still an unpleasant experience, but at least this way he could spare himself a few extra aches and pains.

About five minutes passed by and Rael continued to make his way silently through the forest. He clearly had no intention of striking up a conversation, which meant the task fell on Gavin. “Just picture him in his underwear,” he thought to himself, but then quickly realized that trick only worked on normal sized people. Picturing Rael in his underwear would only make Gavin feel both afraid and uncomfortable. “Okay…just imagine he’s not gigantic then.”

Gavin tilted his head back so he was looking up towards Rael’s face, however from the angle he was at, he could only really see the underside of the man’s jaw. “Yeeeah, kind of hard to imagine he’s not huge when I have to almost break my neck just to see his face.” After taking a deep, steadying breath, Gavin opened his mouth to speak.

Were Rael someone well learned in the magical arts, he could have easily teleported both himself and his human charge to the palace. However, as things were, he had no choice but to travel on foot through the woods that surrounded the city of Ostrad.

Rael didn’t necessarily mind a little hiking, but having to walk back to the city added on about an extra hour to the assignment he never wanted in the first place. He blew out an inaudible sigh, ignoring the way the cage hooked onto his belt repeatedly bumped against his thigh as he walked. At least the human had kept quiet so far, as long as it remained that way--

“Hey, uh--Rael?” The unexpected sound of the human’s voice nearly caused Rael to stop in his tracks. He paused for a moment but quickly recovered and continued making his way forward.

Rael flicked his eyes downwards for just a moment and saw that the human was looking up at him expectantly. Half because he didn’t want to end up running into anything, and half because he didn’t want to give the human the satisfaction of getting his attention, Rael quickly went back to looking forward. “What is it?” he responded reluctantly, making no effort to hide his irritation.

“Well--um, I was just wondering where we’re headed,” said the human nervously. Rael had been a little surprised when he found out that humans didn’t have high, squeaky little voices that fit their size. Instead, their voices were essentially normal, though much quieter than that of an alteon. This was something Rael was grateful for. While it would have been briefly amusing if the humans squeaked like mice, Rael had no doubt he would quickly tire of it.

“I’m delivering you to the Emperor at the palace,” Rael stated tersely. Surely the human could have deduced that on his own.

There was a pause, and Rael hoped that would be the end of the discussion, but evidently the human had other plans. “Right but uh--why didn’t we just...portal straight there?” he asked.

Rael rolled his eyes. He didn’t know whether it was all humans or just this one in particular, but there was certainly an air of obliviousness emanating from Gavin Stone. “The portal needs to be distant enough from civilization in the event intruders manage to slip through somehow,” Rael explained slowly, as though he were speaking to a child.

Honestly, the precaution of keeping portals isolated seemed as though it was more for the sake of protecting the humans that might come through than any alteons. Prior to departing for this assignment, Rael had been educated in all the ways humans could potentially bring harm to alteons. The list was quite short, and mostly involved large weapons of mass destruction, which were apparently not widely available in the human realm.

A thoughtful hum came from the caged human. “I guess that makes sense, though I can’t imagine any human intentionally trying to come here,” he commented. He seemed to be gaining some confidence in his speech and no longer stumbled over his words, much to Rael’s annoyance. The last thing he needed was for his captive to start getting talkative.

“Believe me, we don’t want humans here either,” Rael retorted. Perhaps he was speaking from his own opinion more so than that of the general population of his dimension, but he wasn’t about to tell Gavin Stone that.

Gavin narrowed his eyes at Rael’s comment. If he didn’t know any better, he might say that his captor wasn’t all too fond of humans. He had to wonder what the alteon’s past experience with humans had been. Was Gavin the first he’d met? Had he really made that bad of a first impression? “Oh yeah, I sprinted away from him full speed,” Gavin reminded himself.

People not liking him was not an unfamiliar thing for Gavin. Admittedly, he maybe didn’t have the best verbal filter, and had the unfortunate tendency to blurt out whatever popped into his head. He had been fired from his first job at a movie theater for accidentally calling his manager a “lazy dickwad” within said manager’s earshot. He had gotten sent to the principal’s office in third grade for letting it slip to another kid that Santa wasn’t real. And Gavin knew it was only a matter of time before he said something to Rael that really pissed off the giant.

If Gavin were smart, he would just keep his mouth shut. It was obviously what Rael would have preferred. The only problem was, Gavin wasn’t smart. Smart people became doctors, settled down with a sweet spouse, and moved into a fancy house in the suburbs. Smart people did not become thieves who stole from literal giants.

“So uh--are you like the Emperor’s delivery guy then?” Gavin asked. He didn’t really know where he was hoping the conversation would go or what he hoped to accomplish, but running his mouth felt familiar. If he stayed quiet he’d just end up wallowing in his own anxiety and fear.

Rael shot Gavin a quick, sharp look. “I am a member of the Imperial Guard, not a ‘delivery guy’,” he snipped, clearly not fond of Gavin’s insinuation.

Gavin didn’t really know what being in the “Imperial Guard” entailed, though he supposed it had a fancy enough name. Honestly, it kind of sounded like something out of Star Wars, though he wasn’t going to mention that to Rael considering the guy probably didn’t even know what a movie was.

“So did they specially choose--” Gavin’s sentence was interrupted midway through by an annoyed huff from Rael.

“There is no need for us to converse. So unless you have something crucial to say, I recommend you keep quiet,” the alteon stated coldly.

Despite Rael’s less than friendly tone, and the fact that it was a colossus of a man saying it, Gavin did not intend on keeping quiet. A familiar desire to be contrary was rising up in him. His mom had always called it his “urge to be a complete pain in the ass.”

Gavin didn’t necessarily want to intentionally piss off his captor, he didn’t want to make an enemy of the alteon. That would be stupid even for him. However, Gavin wasn’t about to roll over and behave like a good little boy. He was a criminal, following the rules was basically the antithesis of who he was. No, Gavin was going to talk to Rael whether the elf looking son of a bitch liked it or not.

#g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #my writing #oc: Gavin Stone #oc: Rael

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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“You get me” Pt. 2 -- aka “I got you” (famous!y/n x harry)

Harry x famous!y/n - FLUFF pretty much

ahh you all are so kind and literally you all mean so much for liking, reblogging, and commenting! Means the world to me! NOT PROOFREAD

also if anyone wants to let me know how to properly do a tag list ?? as of now I have a couple people on the tag list so yah but if it grows i might need some tips

Taglist: @marauderswhisperer, @morgannope, @daddystevee

Now for Pt. 2 - feedback super welcome, maybe we’ll have a part 3 and please no stealing of the work :)

Dedicated to all the peeps out there who find themselves constantly in line with Harry and his vibes but feel weird agreeing with him constantly because people think you’re only that way because you’re in love with him

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: kissin’ and stuff, nothing graphic

Pt. 1

“Am I right? I- I could be wrong” you rushed.

“No, no, I got you, don’t worry...I got you” his eyes outshown his smiling lips but nonetheless he reassured you.

It’s seldom that one person meets someone so perfectly matched to themselves. So similar yet not annoyingly so. Two pieces of clothing from the same custom collection, perhaps. You couldn’t believe you’d spent almost seven hours just talking with Harry. Your conversations ranged from silly situations to music inspiration to any dreams you had unfulfilled. Your answers always lined up - not the same, but exceptionally similar and the other was always quick to say “wait, me too” and jump into their own story.

It was the next morning after hanging out at Harry’s and you’d had trouble sleeping, worrying about not having your phone with you. Luckily, that meant your body was quick to wake you up in the morning even without your usual alarm. When you woke up, you quickly dressed in sweats and a tank top, shuffled some shoes on, and freshened yourself up with some quick hygiene care - teethbrushing, facewashing, and the likes. Then, you jogged to your car, anxious to reunite with your phone and the prospect of seeing Harry again so soon moved your legs far quicker than normal. You had figured you wouldn’t see him very often, despite the amazing friendship the two of you had already cultivated, he lived in England mainly and you lived in the United States - California specifically, the furthest you could get from the Harry within the continental United States, sadly. This mistake gave you the chance to see him much sooner than expected and you were very grateful for it.

As you drove out to Malibu, you kept the windows down and your sun roof open. It was a lovely day and you could never get enough of the warm wind whipping around you as you belted out the lyrics to the old rock radio songs. When you sensed you were getting closer to Harry’s you felt yourself begin to tingle, your nerves were gone this time, only excitement filled you as you took in the now familiar surroundings. Harry’s home was set further back from the street so that random pedestrians and street noises never reached the house. You noticed more and appreciated the total beauty of the grounds while you walked up to the house this time, the daytime sun and the lack of nerves both allowing you to soak it all it.

Your actions mirrored those of the previous night, just in a slight fast forward - everything moving faster. You had began to worry slightly though, ‘what if he is upset that I woke him up, what if he is out and I can’t get my phone, what if he has early morning company?’. Still you proceeded to knock and hoped to hear Harry’s footsteps any moment. Thankfully, your ears were greeted with the sound of rustling and soft, slow steps behind the door. You then heard the deadbolt turn and again Harry was before you. His hair fell into his sleepy spectacle-clad eyes, barely open, but he had raised a hand to rub out the sleep from one of them as he opened the door, skewing his glasses. You took in his disheveled appearance, you had obviously woken him, his sweatpants hung low on his hips and he had a hoodie on that was askew, showing a hint of his tanned olive skin - a corner of one of his laurels if you were being honest but you forced yourself to believe it was just a shadow. His feet were bare and you noticed his toenails were painted electric purple and a deep green.

“Hi,” you squeaked, biting your lip. Harry blinked hard and opened his eyes and raised his brows, just trying to wake himself up, but also slightly confused to see you at his doorstep. He had texted you last night, asking if you’d made it home safely, but had never heard back. He hadn’t worried, just assumed you weren’t always on your phone. His was a light sleeper and had heard the knock on the door echo through the house, so he slipped on a hoodie and went to see who it was, when it was you it was definitely surprising. Your presence was shining through his stupor, a small smile graced your face, but it radiated light as strong as the sun.

“Y/N... s’lovely t’see you again, but why’re you ‘ere, love?” He almost whispered your name, his voice catching in his throat due to the lack of use during his slumber. He quickly cleared his throat to get rid of the rasp and groggy sound he heard emit from his own voice. Your smile grew at the sound of his melodic voice, how he pronounced your name - like it was something fragile and needed great care, how it was rough from sleep, but it mostly grew from his use of love, so common for him, yet it felt so special for you. “I left my phone here last night, actually. Sorry for barging in, and, uh, waking you up, I’m assuming,” you said as you took in his appearance once again. He nodded and mustered enough strength to chuckle.

“When’d you realize you’d left it?” Harry asked as he let you in, as he swung the door open, he hung onto it, to keep him upright. “Oh! Right when I got home, of course!” you started as you began to talk with your hands again. You walked ahead of the slower Harry, through the house, back to the sitting room where the two of you had entertained yourselves last night with each other’s company. “Barely could sleep at all, was so worried you’d have jetted off again already and I’d have to figure out how to break in and heist it out of here.” More laughter. Being around you like this was like a shot of espresso straight to Harry’s veins. He perked up at the sound of your sweet voice and your accompanying hands. He noticed they were void of your rings this morning, he guessed you took them off to sleep and forgotten them this morning, due to the rush.

He pushed his hair out of his face with both hands and huffed out a breath as you looked around the room. “Where could it be?” you asked slightly desperate, more to yourself than to Harry. He suggested the couch, walked over, and began to take the leather cushions off. You sighed and began to help Harry with his search of the couch. The last cushion to be removed from the couch uncovered your abandoned phone. “Finally!” you both exclaimed. Then, you looked around, “We made a mess...shit, I’m so sorry, Harry.” “Don’t, don’t be silly, its an easy fix, and y’needed your phone, c’mon Y/N.” He was quick to discourage your apology, despite your surroundings looking like someone had ransacked his room. All the cushions were discarded haphazardly, some blankets had fallen to the ground, and magazines were strewn across the coffee table and the floor.

“Well I’m not leaving you here to clean up a mess I caused,” you stated matter of factly, quickly beginning to repiece the room. Harry threw on a couple of the cushions then said, “S’alright, really, but if y’insist...I’ll start a pot of coffee. Do you?..” he trailed off, but you understood his question. It was kind of him to offer, but you assumed it was more for himself than you. “Nah, I don’t love coffee, sorry, now tea, that’s another story, but I’m fine really.” Harry glanced over to you and there was that smile again. It’s like it lived full time on your face, Harry thought, no wonder you’d already seen such success, not only were you technically a good musician, you were also a good person. He quickly nodded with a breathy laugh. You two went about your self-given tasks, cleaning and “cooking”. Neither of you spoke much as you worked, but you glanced up when you heard Harry begin to play some song from his phone after he had set up the coffee pot. The moment was domestic and tranquil, like the two of you tidy the house and make coffee every morning together.

A whistling sound cut through the soft moment just as you were grabbing the final magazines from the ground. “I thought you said--” Harry cut you off before you could finish, “I made both, love. Any preference for your tea?” You moved into the kitchen and leaned against the bar top, amazed by the man before you. He’d gotten down two mugs, gotten out an assortment of tea, put on the kettle and the coffee pot, making you what you preferred despite your claim to be fine with nothing. He held the two mugs out to you, “Which?” he questioned moving them back and forth from his chest encouraging you to choose, raising his brows for added effect. One was a wide and short ceramic speckled mug with a line painted fish. The other was a taller cream ceramic mug with a shiny red interior with a colorful scene of a town around the outside, the sun was shining in the little town. You crossed the kitchen to him and placed both hands on the red town mug, encircling the little people and houses smiling up at the two of you.

“Good choice, very treat people with kindness of you.” Harry smiled down at you. Whenever you were in closer proximity to him, his body so obviously towered compared to yours. It would seem intimidating, but really just felt comforting, safe. This moment far tenser than any previous moments that morning. He stared into your eyes and you returned the gaze. His hands still holding the mug you had chosen, you felt the heat radiating off of him and warming up your cheeks. There and then it was gone, you turned from him and went to the stove where the kettle sat. You filled your mug with the boiling water and fished a packet of some pink floral Parisian tea you saw and dropped it in the mug. Again you turned and leaned on the counter. Harry had poured his coffee and was opposite you, leant against the counter as well. Like a silent conversation had gone on between the two of you, Harry said, “Creamer’s in the fridge.” You nodded and went and grabbed it. You scurried back to your place against the counter. Harry set his mug down and crossed the short distance between you. His movement was so sudden and disturbed the peacefulness occurring in the kitchen, the synchronous movements between you two. You tensed and your heart began to race when he didn’t stop moving closer. His body was almost against yours when his left arm reached above and past your shoulder, opening th cupboard, and taking out a box of brown sugar cubes. Slowly, he moved the package between the two of you, either side resting on parts of both of your bodies. His warm coffee saturated breath fanned your face.The smell was warm and all consuming when it mixed with the scent of just Harry, probably a combination of shampoo, laundry detergent, and sweat. “Sugar’s right ‘ere,” he spoke just for you, lingering in the bubble your proximity had created. He couldn’t pull away and neither could you. But you had to. You nodded and took the box of sugar cubes, plopping a few in your tea. With that, Harry huffed an inaudible sigh and grabbed his coffee.

Happy witht the taste of your drink, Harry and you journeyed back to the couch where you been last night. Careful to set your phone in eyeline, you got comfortable, tucking your legs under you on the couch, leaning back and gazing at Harry. Comfortable silence fell between you, but again it was like the two of you were communicating in someway that didn’t require words. You noticed you were situated closer to Harry on the couch than you had been last night. Maybe you were less careful or maybe Harry had chosen to scoot closer to you as well. “So, I’ve been thinking, I know we like literally just met, but I’m just so in awe of how well we get along, Harry. Honestly, when I was little I was a huge fan and when you said you wanted to meet to discuss my work I was on a new level of existence, seriously,” you stated, “Hey! Don’t laugh, I’m being for real,” you feigned hurt when Harry giggled from your word choice. “Anyways,” you emphasized and playfully gave a pointed look towards Harry’s shaking body. “You’re like image in my head that I never thought was attainable and now...feels like we’ve been friends for ages,” you finish softly. You weren’t exactly sure why you were sharing this thought with Harry, but the moment in the kitchen had set your heart beating. You had to say something to try and explain how you were feeling. Harry had grown silent again as you had pressed forward. His brows had slightly furrowed as he had watched you speak. You sensed you’d messed everything up, you believed the silence was a sign of your overstep. You both seemed always to be on the same page and now you’d jumped chapters and Harry was still behind. Learning a spoiler can always be upsetting, sometimes even ruinous.

Shit, you thought. “Am I right? I- I could be wrong” you rushed to add, hoping to salvage any work relationship possible after crashing and burning so hard with this presumptuous statement. “No, no, I got you, don’t worry...I got you” his eyes outshown his smiling lips, but, nonetheless, he reassured you. He reached out and cradled your exposed shoulder, his thumb brushing up and down. “I feel it too…s’a bit weird, innit?” Harry kept smiling and you had to smile too. His lips were perfect, you noticed, shape and color. Every feature of him was like that, perfect shape, perfect composition. In your heart, you felt the words of a song beginning to piece itself together just from his face. You wanted to explore its every nook and cranny, the slope of his nose, the peaks of his cheeks, the sleek lines of his jaw, the depressions under his eyes, all of it. You didn’t want to leave a single piece of flesh untouched. It stayed silent and you noticed Harry had leaned in to hold your shoulder and you shifted comfortably towards him in return. And you were about to reach out and touch want you wanted so badly, your faces closer than ever before, when a doorbell rang throughout the home.

Harry twitched his hand away from your shoulder and pulled back from your face exploration activity, throwing his head back on his neck in some sort of disappointment. You were in disbelief, pulled from the trance that was Harry’s beautiful skin, ‘I didn’t know there was even a fucking doorbell here’. “‘S one momen’,” Harry grumbled, running through the house to the front door. You took a deep breath, trying to cool yourself off from what you were pretty sure was just about to happen. You grabbed your mug and took a sip. You strained your ear to hear anything at the front door, but it was all completely muffled, but the conversation seemed to be coming to an end after a couple minutes. You looked inquisitively at Harry when he returned, he waved you off. “Unimportant...what were we doing?” Harry said as he regained his position beside you. “You were about to kiss me,” you replied, taking the arm underneath your resting head and grabbing at his hand. You intertwined your hands as you had last night, when you first noticed that Harry was being vulnerable with you and getting to actually know you. Harry was caught off guard at your forwardness in the moment, but melted at the sight of this confident and caring woman in front of him. You had been so true to yourself on your album he realized after your first conversation last night. You were beautiful inside and out. He looked down at your hand in his, “No rings today…” “I forgot them...had to get over here.” “Were you excited t’see me again?” Harry questioned somewhat out of the blue. “Of course. What about when I showed up at your doorstep?” It was fine Harry hadn’t really addressed your kiss comment, you were so comfortable with him, it didn’t bother you. “I’d ‘ave thrown anyone else out after they’d found their phone if they’d been the one t’wake me up this morning.” He raised his free hand up to your hair now and ran it through until he cupped your ear, then he ran his hand down your jaw and up onto your cheek, his hand cradling your delicate face. “Can I?” He looked into your eyes intently.You bit your lip and leaned forward into Harry. Your lips connected and the kiss was so tender and filled with mutual respect and care, passion just below that surface of soft kindheartedness. Your plush lips pushed against Harry’s and the two of you moved in unison. Soft touches and faint whispers.

The chaste kiss began to turn when you pushed Harry further into the couch and crawled into his lap, your legs seated on either side of his sweatpant clad leg. One of your hands held his jaw in a strong yet loving grasp, while the other was tangled in his hair massaging his scalp. You arched your back as Harry ran his fingers down the back of your spine to land on the side of your hip, his other hand on your neck. His tongue pushed into your open mouth and you made a noise of appreciation and your tongues danced in each other’s mouths. His touch was liquid fire on your skin, seemingly harmless yet burning you everywhere he felt. His hands traveled to the bottom of your ass, slowly sliding over its entirety and squeezing at the bottom. You squealed and Harry grinned, “Easy.” You couldn’t help it, your clothed core was pressed against his toned thigh, his hands were on your ass pushing you down and to top it all off, he was an amazing kisser. He kissed your lips one more time before moving to the corner of them, then your jaw, and finally your neck. He left open mouth kisses on your neck, soft and tender. He was slowing down, taking more time to run his tongue over your neck, massaging it in a way. This was just as amazing as the rougher makeout session that had just occurred. You resumed massaging his scalp and brushing through his curls. Then, you ran your hands down to his broad shoulds beneath his sweatshirt. You drew patterns over his skin and he hummed. “Mm I’like tha,” he whispered into your skin and looked up at you.

You both wore matching smiles, basking in the warmth the two of you had just created. You dropped your head into the crook of Harry’s collarbone beneath his neck, “We should do that again.” “We should definitely do that again, Y/N,” Harry responded emphatically, giving your bum a final squeeze before moving his hands to encircle your waist. You two sat there silently for awhile and then changed to a better cuddling position where you could both still drink from your mugs. You discussed your upcoming schedule, press, time off, and upcoming tour dates. Harry would be in town for a couple more weeks, but was going back to London afterwards. “You should come visit me when you’re on break before tour. We can go out and do somethin’. Tha’d be fun.” You agreed that it sounded fun and that you two should schedule something when it was closer. Harry was largely free during the time that you were on tour. “I dont wan’t to be presumptuous, but… if you wanted, you could come visit me while I’m on tour, we could explore when I’m on my Europe leg?” you said hesitantly. It was Harry’s turn to agree, “Sounds like a great idea, love,” he ran his fingertips up and down your arm idly. You continued to plan the future, nothing had to be defined, it was clear the two of you loved to spend time together, everything just seemed to flow when you were together. Everyone and everything else could fade into the background, as long as you had each other, you were pretty sure you’d be alright.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, breaking some silence that had settled over your cuddled figures. “What for?” Harry looked down at you in his arms. “For getting me,” you smiled for the thousandth time that day. You were sure you’d grow extra smile lines if you continued seeing Harry so constantly like this. Harry returned it and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, “I got you.”

Pt.3 🥺

#harry styles #you get me #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #mine #my writing #not my gif #love you h #hope you all enjoy #PART 2!#famous!y/n #famous!reader #my writings

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thewritingsofadummy · 4 years ago

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Be Greedy, At Least With Me

Pairing: Gavin/Reader

Summary: To have Gavin voice his desires, what he truly wants, always proved to be a challenge.

Word count: 2,250

A/N: the literal first few notes of this fic that I had written down were just “I wanna suck the soul out of this man’s d*ck” so I think that’s really all I can add to this for you to know what to expect avhgcjhbxn also I’m sorry this took a year, a lot of other things got put on my plate in the time between

Not safe for the kiddos below the cut (+18)

How a cup of tea after Gavin had walked you home from your date led to the mix of tongues and teeth on your couch you couldn’t place, though it truly wasn’t out of the ordinary. One kiss always led to two to twenty, and before you knew it, a noise complaint would make it to your door the next morning.

And tonight was no different, a hold he had on your jaw as he angled you against him, desperate to deepen the kiss with every little movement. The scent of his cologne filling your senses, intoxicating along with the taste of his tongue. His body flush against your own, warming you better than any cup of tea.

As soon as his hand landed on your breast, squeezing slightly from outside your shirt, you moved to straddle his hips. His movements stilled for a second, feeling the radiating tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks inches from your own. It didn’t matter how often this happened or how used to this he was, it never eased his nervousness.

He could feel the small smile forming on your lips as you took ahold of his hand, parting from him as you brought his palm up to your lips for a few short presses. With every kiss, they inched up his digits until they landed on his fingertips.

One last press on his middle finger and your tongue darted out to press against them. Before he could even say anything, you closed your lips around his digits, lightly sucking as you met his gaze. The blush on his cheeks deepened in color the further down his fingers you inched, and the feel of your tongue lapping and parting them had him breathless.

Once you were up to his knuckles, you could see the underlying lust burn in his eyes. Every want and desire he had surfacing and you could see it in the way his own lips parted but stopped short of any words. He couldn’t find it in him to say what he wanted, instead watching as you continued taking his digits, feeling them hit the back of your throat.

The slight gag he felt on his fingertips had him swallowing hard, the lump in his throat bobbing visibly; feeling his growing erection between your legs twitch under you.

Your mouth slowly withdrew, releasing his fingers as a string of saliva connected the two of you. He eyed your wet lips with a newfound captivation, leaning forward to press his own to them. His fingers found their way to your hair, tangling with them as he deepened the kiss.

He was almost desperate to feel you flush against him, one hand cradling under your jaw and the other on your waist to pull you to him. Every synchronized movement against your lips searing and seeping with raw lust. Nothing mattered more in this moment than the uninhibited desire to feel each other, to be as close as possible.

Pulling away, your plump, swollen lips entranced him entirely. To say he was enamored wouldn’t encompass the burning fervor in his chest; a feeling he knew all too well when it came to you. He leaned forward again, intent of capturing them again only to meet your index finger.

“Let me take care of you.”

The knitted brows and tilt of his head had you stifling a laugh at his confused expression. It wasn’t until you moved off him and in between his legs that he picked up on what you meant, shifting to a small panic as he tried to stop you.

“MC, you really don’t have to-“

“But I want to.”

Your hands reached for his belt, unbuckling it slowly as you maintained eye contact. Eye contact that felt all the more difficult to hold as you fought the urge to shy away from your actions. You tugged them off with his assistance, taken aback by the size of the tent in his briefs; gulping to swallow the nervousness that almost surfaced.

“I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel, Gavin,” you said just above a whisper, lips moving to kiss the band around his waist as you pulled them down. He hissed at the feeling of his erection released from its confines, “I want to see you unravel the same way you’ve made me. I want to watch your face twinge in pleasure from what I’m doing to you. I want to hear you gasp my name like a needy plea.”

Your lips made a tantalizing trail from the base of his shaft up to his tip, following the vein on the under side. Eyes flicking up to meet the astonished look on his face, mouth agape as he tried to fumble for anything to say, but his voice seeming to fail him.

“Let me?”

Your question felt bold in this moment, as if you had just confessed to every sinful thought you’d ever had and were awaiting clemency. He couldn’t find it in him to speak up, instead nodding in assurance with an expectant gaze.

The hand on his hip moved to wrap around his length, a light grip as you worked him from base to tip. He cursed under his breath at the contact, head lulling back for a moment before observing you again.

The sight of you between his legs, pumping his cock steadily, was almost too much for him. He bit his knuckles as he tried to suppress the moans that brimmed from his chest. You could see his muscles flexing under his shirt, using your other hand to lift and get a better view; noticing his cheeks flush just a bit deeper at that.

“This really is much better than any time I’ve imagined it,“ he more said to himself, unaware of the words he said aloud.

“You’ve thought about this before?” You quipped as you bit your lip, “When?”

He averted his gaze, cheeks tinging even deeper in pink out of embarrassment, “Usually late at night.”

“And tell me,” you teased, fingers playfully tracing the veins under his cock, “do you touch yourself when these thoughts come up?”

He fell stunned at your dauntless question, unsure of whether to answer or not. Your sultry gaze fixed entirely on his own left him without a word in response, gulping as if to swallow the answer down before they slipped from his lips on their own. To speak his mind, what he truly thought, seemed all the more challenging in this moment. Never had he seen such a side to you, and he’d be lying to say it didn’t stir something in him. And yet, he wanted to abide to your desire of hearing his response.

“I-“ he stuttered, clearing his throat before pressing on, “I do.”

“Gavin,” you gasped in faux shock, a sly grin spreading, “I never realized how naughty you could be.”

Before he could respond, averting his gaze to hide the ever-growing blush, the feeling of your wet tongue lapping his tip stopped any words from making their way passed his lips. Instead, a breathy moan took the place of any coursing thought, followed by one after the other as your tongue swirled his head; a mix of saliva and precum coating him.

His head tilted back, eyes pressed shut as he focused entirely on the feeling of your mouth around him. Lips wrapped tightly around his member, tongue pressing and sliding along with every bob. You hollowed your cheeks to take him deeper, hand pumping what you couldn’t reach. His fingers carded through your locks, staying there as he let you go at your own pace.

His demeanor felt stiff, refraining from anything aside from his light grip and the low groans he’d let slip. You could feel his hesitancy to let his hands roam, to take the initiative to make you take him deeper. Every deep crease and line in his face hinted at a restraint he wouldn’t dare let go.

“Gavin,” you whispered, your hot breath tickling over his head as you released him, “You can enjoy this. You can even do whatever you want to me in this moment.”

The sensual gaze pierced through him with a mix of concern in your furrowed brows. It was hard to look anywhere but, entranced yet comforted in the deep color of your irises. Even as your hand still worked him, what truly had him in awe was the way it seemed like you could see right through him, right to his core and reading him like book; a book even he wasn’t familiar with.

“If you want to fuck my face, I won’t stop you,” your crude, naughty words stunning him even further, “Be selfish, entirely greedy for me.”

The shock in him settled as he continued to eye you. His fingers inched towards your cheek, nimble in their movements and careful to barely graze your skin. He couldn’t help but relish in the bit of innocence he saw in your eyes, admiring how cute you looked when just staring at him with that curious look. Nothing in him wanted to sully that perfect image, not when he was the one doing it.

His fingers moved to cup your face, thumb soothing the skin under it as he tried to steady his breathing. Any attempt at trying to regulate his rapidly beating heart only served to make it worse, thumping in his ears as you still pumped him steadily. But your bold words made him want to be just as audacious.

“Can I…” his voice trailed, hesitancy thick in his words as he pressed on, “Can I really be selfish? I don’t want to hurt y-“

“You’re not going to hurt me, I know you wouldn’t.”

The amount of trust you placed on him with your reassuring words somehow melted his reluctance instantly. As he took a deep breath, his eyes followed the trail his hand made from your cheek to carding through your hair. The strands between his knuckles grounded him in a way he couldn’t place, but it gave him the bolster he needed. With a light grasp, one you could barely feel, he nudged your face forward, signaling for you to go on.

Your lips wrapped back around him eagerly, tongue playing with his slit and the ridge of his head. The gasp through gritted teeth had you fighting back a grin as you took him deeper, your name rolling off his lips like a devoted prayer. You were intentional in going as painstakingly slow and stagnant as you could, waiting for him to take the control you handed to him on a silver platter. Yet, there was still a part of him that couldn’t will himself to fully giving in; the smallest amount of guidance from a light grip.

As gentle as he was, you could feel his restraints loosen the further down his shaft you went. Taking him deeper with every slight bob of your mouth, it made him more receptive. As soon as you were up to his hilt, you let out a soft hum around him, loosening the groan lodged in his throat. That was all it took, all he needed, for his willpower to falter.

Just like that, a switch in him flipped. A desire he never knew he had, a sensation he had yet to experience, and it made him want more. The fingers in your hair tightened ever so slightly before he pulled you back a bit only to push you back down onto him.

Once he hit the back of your throat, you gagged around his cock; the drool in your mouth spilling over and onto him at that. You caught the alarming look he gave, worrying that he hurt you, but you only continued your ministrations; assuring him that you were fine with a single glance. Gagging around him one more time, he couldn’t fight the moan that trickled from his lips, your name following.

“Good girl,” his voice low, followed by a deep groan as he jerked up at a particularly sensitive spot. The flutter in your stomach sending a jolt up your spine at his praise.

His hips lifted in tandem with your mouth, feeling his release coming close. The moans that filled the room became more needy with every passing second, picking up your pace only to hear it increase in volume. His eyes shut tight, hands balling into fists in your hair, as the coil wound tight in him burst.

The blissed out look on his face was one you would engrave in your mind for years to come, knowing you’ll never tire of the sight as he came down in tremors. Your mouth still around him as you milked him for every bit of cum, watching as he still came down from his high.

His body became lax against the couch, trying to catch his breath. Something about this moment filled you with affection for him, a pure adoration that filled your heart had you moving up him and reaching for his lips. As soon as you pressed them to his, his hands caught both your wrists. Before you could process, he flipped you on your back, pinning you to the couch as his lips kissed under your earlobe.

“Now,” he whispered, trailing down the nape of your neck, “Let me take care of you.”

Even when you asked him to be greedy, it truly wasn’t in his nature.

#not for the kiddos #mlqc #mr love queen's choice #Mr love: queen's choice #love and producer #mr love gavin #mlqc gavin #mlqc bai qi #mlqc fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #otome game

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blackwolf12 · 3 years ago

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Prank War

All of this started when Dick was bored, Bruce was off world and Alfred was gone for a few days, so he decided to prank Damian. He called Damian to his room "Dami can you come here for a sec?" Dick could barely contain his giggles.

"Tt- what do y-" Damian was cut short when pink paint, glitter and feathers fell on top of his head. He looked angrily at Dick "Grayson!" he shouted and proceeded to chased Dick around the Manor. Everyone else was, for once, quietly minding their business when those two intrupted the peaceful silence. Dick then jumped on the brown couch which Jason was sitting on making Jason growl. "One, two, three, four, I declare a prank war" Dick shouted.

Tim groaned, "Dick!" he whined. "Don't you remember last time? You know when there was a literal pink elephant in the manor, before that the pools were pink. Every. Pool. In Gotham. Was. Pink." He said slumping with each word. "Alfred took my coffee away... For a month!" He whimpered and said "I almost died" dramatically.

"Eh. Whats done is done. Let the war begin" Dick announced bouncing on the sofa like a little kid. "Damian, Cass and Jason are team red. Tim, Steph and me are team blue."

"Seriously Dick? I dont even want to take part in the prank wars. Any you put the good ones in the other team!" Stephanie protested. Dick grinned at him, "Too late."

The teams went their seperate way to prepare. Team Red was discussing who was going to aim for who in the war. "You two can choose out of Drake and Brown. Grayson is mine" Damian growled not over the pink glitter accident. "I'll take replacment, so Cass can you take Steph?" Jason asked. Cass nodded grimly. Honestly thay acted like it was a real war. It was just so amusing.

Back with Team Blue they had two members who weren't even trying. "I just wanted to drink coffee and solve some cases peacefully. But obviously there is not peace here" Tim said glaring at Dick. "You can do your stuff after this, Steph you can take Jason, Tim can take Damian and I will take Cass. Kay?" Dick said rhetorically. "Fine lets get this over with" Stephanie grumbled.

Damian set an onslaught of prank upon Dick making him regret the pink glitter very much. First his hair became pink, then his nails somehow became pink, and he had pink makeup that would not come off. He also found himself stuck in a huge room with a mirror maze. It took him an hour to get out and he hit his nose on the mirrors multiple times (a/n This has happened to me. The mirror part).

Jason had hid the coffee machine and threw every coffee packet outside. And somehow managed to close every coffee selling place temporarily. Tim cried a lot and then passed out. When Tim woke up there was a coffee packet on the floor whick kept moving away from him till the packet got burned and he cried all over again. Nobody seemed that sad about it.

Cass made all of Stephanie's clothes colours that look hideous and that you would want to wash your eyeballs. Stephanie somehow got her hair dyed green, which would look horrible with her newly coloured clothes. Her spoiler costume was dyed green and orange which does not go together. There was a scream in the manor that day, so imagine birds flying away because it was really loud and the whole manor shook.

Stephanie hid all of Jason's guns and kept paintball guns there instead. Jason honestly wasn't so sad about that. When he shot it at criminals they would be stunned long enough for him to knock them out. Jason was considering keeping some of the paintball guns. And the out of the blue some of Jason's leather jackets smelt like fish which is something he hates. It would just not wash out. They also turned blue after that.

Dick made Cass' costume pink and yellow and tried to jump scare her multiple times, emphasis on tried. Her belt which strored all of her batarangs and some other stuff was so lose it kept slipping off. Some of her stuff was also found in really high places. But she had no trouble getting them down.

Tim took all of Damian's swords and stashed them and then hung Damian upside down when he was sleeping. He kept spraying Damian with water like he was a stray cat and Damian got annoyed. Damian also found himself pushed into the pool multiple times. Everytime he came out he shook al the water of himself like a grumpy cat which he is.

After that both teams went all out and chaos was unleashed. Somehow they got the once beautiful white walls splattered with pink paint everywhere. There were slime balls, water balloons, eggs, the sofas were overturned and everything was coloured. They were all screaming at each other about anything. And some point Dick was trying to sing operas but failed and sounded like a dying donkey. Then everyone started screaming at him.

T'was the jingle of keys that everyone heard and froze. "Well Masters who is going to clean this up?" Alfred was home and Alfred was not a happy camper.

"H-hey Alfie, how was the trip?" Dick said nervously.

"Who's idea was this?" Alfretd said sharply. Everyone pointed at Dick. "Guys!" Dick whined. "Master Richard I expect the house to be spotless before you go back to Bludhaven. And no cookies for you."

Dick went on his knees and screamed "Noooooooooo!" dramatically and much longer. Everyone else snickered and went to eat cookies. But after that they went to help him (they were forced to help because the ninja butler said so)

Hey. Hope you liked this, gimme some prompts. Just comment and I'll write it. Stay safe guys.

#Batfam #prank war #jason todd #cass cain #Stephanie Brown #dick grayson #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #alfred the ninja butler

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wintrcaptn · 5 years ago

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It’s You Ch 2 | Chris Evans 🖤

Summary : moving to a new place, not knowing a single person, wasn’t what you had in mind. But wanting a fresh start was the main goal. Little did you know, you were now living next door to none other than Chris Evans.

A/N : I am glad you all enjoyed the first part! It really means the world to me! I don’t know where Chris lives or if he even has nearby neighbors but it’s called fan fiction for a reason. Lol. Please don’t be afraid to leave feedback! Good or bad!

Also, sorry if there are errors. I’m writing on my phone and I’m too lazy to proof read my stuff 😩 I do this to myself. Anyways, ENJOY!

Part One

It’s been months since you moved into your new house, and thingns we’re finally coming together, just the way you wanted it.

Moving to Boston was something you were nervous but also excited for. You were tired of your hometown, tired of seeing the same faces and being reminded of past loves who only ended up hurting you.

So you wanted to start a new chapter in your life. Find passion in yourself again and just be happy with being alone. Something you haven’t felt in such a long time.

But then Chris came along.

As hard as you tried to focus on your life, you couldn’t help but constantly think about him. Think about the way he licks his finger after playing with the rim of his cup when he comes over for coffee on your days off. Or about the way he sings off key to Disney songs when you both get drunk and have a marathon at his place.

Your feelings were growing deeper and deeper and it was beginning to scare you. But of course, your mind would start to work overtime, and you would begin to overthink everything. Wondering why he would waste his time with someone like you when he could literally have any one else. Maybe because you were there? Living next door, made it convenient for him?

Whatever it was, you tried to enjoy it either way. Before it was over.

Chris liked spending his time with you.

Sure, he thought you were attractive but actually getting to know you, made you even more attractive.

Being with you wasn’t hard. It wasn’t scripted or felt forced.

It was as if he had known you all his life.

Then out of nowhere, one day when he was over, spending a casual Saturday at your house, he finally realized this was more than just platonic....

“Okay, so it’s my turn to cook for you!” You exclaimed, walking over to your kitchen.

Chris followed in pursuit, watching you with a soft smile on his lips.

“I don’t think I want to die tonight.” He teased.

You stopped in your steps and turned to face him, with your eyes so big, trying hard not to laugh.

“Excuse me, I’m one hell of a chef. Thank you very much.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He walked over to the sink, to wash his hands. “I’ll help—“

“Nope! I got this.”

You scrunched you’re nose at him before turning your back to him once again. That little banter was one of the things Chris loved.

Even though, it had been months of hanging out with Chris, it was still so surreal to be around him. Around the guy you had loved watching on movies, and hoped to one day meet.

Your life was a literal fan fiction, but you didn’t seem to mind.

Even though it all felt too good to be true, you wanted to bask in every moment of it.

You looked over the recipe and grabbed what you needed, except for the salt.

Chris thought it would be funny to put it on the top shelf in the cupboard every time he came over, so you had to climb up on the counter to get it.

Letting out a sigh, you looked at him and all he could do was smirk.

“I’m tired of this shit, Chris.” You chuckled. “Come over here and get the damn salt.”

His soft laugh, the one that was barely loud enough but still able to reach your ears, always made you swoon.

“Wait, are you asking me for help? Is this really happening?”

“Chris, you know damn well that if the salt was in the right place, I wouldn’t have to ask.” You muttered, pulling your hair up into a messy bun. “Now please, walk your giant ass over here and put it where it belongs.”

Chris had a rag in his hands to dry off the water from washing his hands. He tossed it over to the other side of the kitchen, before walking over to you.

Once he was by your side, he caught your attention. “You said you got it—“ he muttered as he placed his hands on either sides of your hips, forcing your breath to hitch to the back of your throat. “So get it yourself.” He whispered.

Before you knew it, your feet were off the ground, and You were now able to reach the salt. With Chris holding you up, you knew at this very moment, you were screwed.

The way his fingers curved around you, and how your body leaned against his, it was almost like torture.

You were fighting yourself from giving in. Fighting to keep your fantasies to a minimum and not let any emotion show.

Once you grabbed what you needed, he carefully put you down, not taking his hands off you. But you were so close to each other, you swore you could hear his heart beat.

His gaze held yours, making you feel like he could undress you with those eyes of his.

It was beginning to make you hot just by the thought.

You were able to snap out of it, and clear your throat, breaking the tension between you.

Chris realized he made a tricky move, something that could have made things worse.

He took a step back, to lean on the counter and control his thoughts of you.

‘Keep it together’ he repeated to himself.

“Now stop moving my shit around.” You forced out, glancing at him.

Chris nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Yes ma’am.” His voice was low.

‘God damn it. Keep it to-fucking-gether!!’

A few hours had passed. You were both laughing once again, not letting that moment from earlier ruin the night.

Things were back to normal again.

Scott decided to join the two of you, which he did almost every other weekend, even if Chris couldn’t make it.

He became someone you could trust. And that was hard for you.

“I swear Chris had no secrets with our mom. He literally ran home to tell her he lost his virginity.” Scott cackled, before taking a sip of his beer.

“I was excited!”

“Aww that’s so cute! You were such a mommy’s boy.” You teased.

“Were? He still is.”

Scott looked at his phone and couldn’t believe the time. “Shit, it’s already midnight!” He exclaimed. “I have to wake up in a few hours for my flight.”

With that, he propped up to his feet and gave both you and Chris a quick hug, before walking back to Chris’ house.

“I didn’t realize it was that late.” You yawned, walking the plates over to the sink.

“Guess you lose track when you’re having fun.” Chris said, helping you with the dishes.

You stopped and looked over at him, your eyes slightly bloodshot from exhaustion and the alcohol.

“I need to get this off my chest because it’s been killing me.” You muttered, feeling a bit delirious.

Chris cocked his brow, and focused his full attention on you. “Is everything okay?”

This was it. Word vomit. The thing you did when you had no control over yourself and acted before you thought it through.

“I’ve read fan fiction about you.” You confessed. “And I know that makes me sound like a stalker or whatever, but I promise you that I never in a million years thought I’d be living next door to you.”

Chris stood there, baffled and slightly amused as you went on.

“Yes I think you’re attractive, but I didn’t buy this house because of you. I honestly didn’t even know where you lived!!” You said. “I’ve had shitty relationships and shitty friends and—I just needed a fresh start. My job was able to transfer me out here and this was the second house I looked at and just fell in love—I promise—“

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I believe you.” He chuckled. “I have never thought of you as a stalker or creepy. Weird? Yes but that’s okay.”

You could tell he was trying to lighten up the mood.

But once the realization of what you had just said, dawned on you, you were mortified. “I can’t believe I just told you that.”

Chris belted our into laughter, as he pulled you into him. His arms curled around your waist while you laid your head on his chest.

This was the place you loved being in. Being in his arms, it felt like nothing could ever hurt you again. And it was honestly exactly what you needed.

“So—“ he drawled out. “Do you still read fan fiction about me?”

You took a step back to lock your gaze with his. “Out of all the things I said, that’s what you cling on too?”

“I’m just curious!” He chuckled. “Were they dirty stories? Or—“

“I’m NOT telling you! It’s bad enough that I embarrassed myself telling you I read anything at all!”

Chris could only laugh, clutching his hand over his chest.

You playfully swatted his arm, trying hard not to laugh with him.

“I hate you.” You said, hiding your smile. “This stays between us! If you tell anyone, I swear I will kick your ass!”

“Can you even reach my ass?”

“Are those fighting words, Evans? Because I can throw hands, real quick.”

He took a short step closer to you, his eyes looking darker than usual, with desire. He glanced down at your lips, then back up and locked his gaze with yours.

“I’d like to see you try.” He whispered.

‘Is this really happening?!’

You wanted to kiss him right there and then. To grab his collar, pull him in and taste those plump lips of his that you had been craving to taste.

But you were frozen, lost in his trance.

It wasn’t until The sound of Chris’ phone going off, you were finally able to snap out of it.

It was a text from Scott, asking where he had put the suitcase.

“I got to go.” He muttered, looking slightly bummed about having to leave. “I’ll come over tomorrow to help you with your new book case.”

You swallowed hard, and nodded. “Sounds good. Give Dodger a kiss for me.”

“Will do.” He pulled you in for a tight hug, which lingered longer than it should have. “Good night Y/N.”

Chris turned on his heels and started toward his house, leaving you speechless yet again. He always knew how to do that to you.

“Dammit Y/N.” You mumbled to yourself. “Why don’t you ever learn to keep your mouth shut.”

As Chris walked into his house, all he could think about was you. And even after blurting out everything, it didn’t seem to faze him.

“Oh damn.” Scott said, catching his brothers attention.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“Nothing, I’ll tell you when the times right. But for now, please help me find that damn suitcase! This is what I get for packing last minute!”

——

Chapter Three

#i hope this was okay #if not then oh well i tried lol #marvel #chris evans #steve rogers #marveledit #marvel imagine #the avengers #marvel fanfiction #mcu #mcu imagine #andy barber #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #cevans #defending jacob

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starkeristheendgame · 5 years ago

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Soulmate AU where Peter's soul words are like, "How you doin'" and Tony's words are "Not interested". Peter's in a bar and Tony walks up to him and says "How you doin'" and Peter throws back his shot of whiskey and just says, "Not interested," and then it just clicks at the same time for both of them. Peter looks at Tony and Tony looks at him and Peter says, "Well, maybe I am interested."

I received a second ask which is I think the beginning of this one, so I’m going to answer the two as this post and pray I’m not shorting someone!

Set around the A1 era but Peter is a spritely young lad seasoned with his powers and sick of soulmates and Tony is a thirty-something superhero equally unimpressed by the whole shtick. I hope I did this justice!

TW: Daddy kink | Grinding | Dynamic imbalance | Undernegotiated but consensual kink

Tony Stark was a man who had everything. Who had always had everything. A luxurious home, more money than he knew what to do with, expensive cars, expensive girls. A family name worth the Earth. All he had to do was speak his name or snap his fingers and people would bend over backwards to please him.

Which made his soul-mark all the more utterly infuriating

Not interested.

It was written in an inelegant scrawl, the r lopsided and the N curled on the tips. It lay like a brand on the inside of his bicep, taunting him every time he looked at it. And he looked at it often, especially as he grew up and got better looking; especially when people begun to play at being his soulmate in the desperate hope he would fall for them.

He had all that, and presumably, his soulmate had not even a spark of interest in him. It had gnawed at him like a starving wolf throughout his teens, wary of anyone who opened their mouth in his direction. And when he became an attractive, wealthy older man, and when he became an attractive superhero to boot. Iron Man. Someone wasn’t even remotely interested in Iron Man.

Steve had given him an amused and sort of smug look when Tony had revealed the white mark on a drunken team bonding night. No doubt the man knew how such a line would mess with Tony. Tony only wished he could give the man the same shit, but Steve’s soul-mark was a dark black, the colour it turned to when you met your soulmate. One James “Bucky” Barnes, who was so sickeningly in love with Steve that it often warranted fake gagging until they toned down the puppy eyes and kissing.

Being Iron Man didn’t exactly help the whole soulmate thing, either. Not that the soulmate issue wasn’t a smooth sea to begin with. They were a bit of a shit-luck-dip, really. You could be born in the entire wrong lifetime. You could be ninety by the time your soulmate is born. You could meet your soulmate in just enough time to watch them wither away.

Soul-marks were a pale, lifted white until you met your soulmate and spoke their words. Then, it would burn and slowly darken to black to signify you’d met The One.

At cresting thirty-two, Tony knew his soulmate was alive. Somewhere. The other delightful thing about soulmates is the Universe didn’t exactly plop you down in the same house. The majority of people died having never met their soulmate. Tony knew his soulmate was alive because he had a mark. Those too late got the job of watching their soul-mark fade from their skin.

And there Tony’s sat, pink-white and mocking him with every passing day.

Not interested.

It’s what he wished he could say, when his phone rang with Director Fury’s number and the sky begun to rain aliens. Looking up at the giant alien-crocodile-snake thing, all he wanted to do was throw in the armour and become a sheep herder or something.

Half of New York has been unceremoniously remodelled by the time Loki is a wheezing half-corpse two foot down in his kitchenette floor, and Schwarma turns out to be vaguely disappointing.

All in all, he needs a whiskey. And a strong one. In an unfortunate trend that seems to be set on denying him all his wants - The Tower is officially on lockdown while SHIELD begins the frantic clean-up attempt. This apparently extends to even him, the man who’s name is literally emblazoned across the building.

Or, was.

Looking up at it now, all that remains is a slightly jagged A.

Huh. He has to remodel now anyway; maybe a logo change might not be so bad. But that can wait, because between the aliens and Steve fucking Rogers and the aliens, a strong whiskey was the only solution. So Tony tucked his hands into the pockets of his slacks and turned on his heel, picking way along the rubble-littered streets. Still deserted, now that SHIELD had taken over.

Some four blocks down, a SHIELD agent comes striding past, clutching a tiny Yorkie to his chest. The Agent side-eyed him as they passed each other, as though unsure if he should be letting an Avenger just stroll away, but Tony waved a hand at him. “Double the animal rescue efforts and put my name on the bill. If you happen to find a particularly vicious dog - Or even a cat, really, do be sure to stuff it in Captain America’s mailbox” he hummed, whistling cheerfully as he continued on.

The first bar he came across was a total dud, half-caved in and void of any signs of life. Unperturbed, Tony continued onwards and soon found a second, only slightly scathed. Entering the building it became clear he was not the only one who had settled on the notion of a stiff drink.

Sat at the bar, was a smaller male, with a mess of dark curls and a flannel overshirt that had been torn open, bloodied at one side. Skinny jeans once black were now a brown-grey with dust. The guy didn’t turn around the check him out, just knocked back a shot and poured another from the bottle at his side. Next to that was an empty tumbler, with what looked to be a $20 inside.

Tony gave a soft huff, but he supposed that for once, he didn’t exactly have a choice in going somewhere else. So he smoothed down his hair and sauntered up to the bar, leaning one elbow against the murky wood. A glimpse of the guys face nearly had him sliding straight off it in surprise.

A little battered or not, Bar Guy was attractive. He had a little button nose and a sharp jaw contradicted by slightly round cheeks. From the side his lashes seemed endless. A little disarmed but not deterred, Tony flashed a wry grin and in best Joey Tribbiani accent, greeted him with “Hey. How you doin’?”

And he honestly wasn’t flirting. At least, not with any real intent. Pepper often said that Tony would flirt with a potted plant if he thought it would gain him anything; and he supposed she wasn’t wrong. Bar Guy stiffened a little, shoulders hunching, and he poured a generous slug of whiskey into his glass before he knocked it back with a grimace, not even looking at Tony.

“Not interested” the boy replied blandly, though not cruelly, turning away from Tony to slide off his stool. Tony opened his mouth to crack a joke, or make a witty remark, but he never got that far. His arm begun to tingle, and then it burned slightly, and his gasp was mirrored by the guy opposite, who staggered and clutched at his thigh.

The burn abated back to a tingle, and then to nothing, as though it had never happened. Tony didn’t need to check his arm to know that the mark would be a deep, semi-sheen black.

The guy whipped around, and his already wide eyes went near cartoon comical when he realised exactly who was stood opposite him; exactly who the Universe had plucked out of a hat for him. Tony could only offer a wry, grim smile in response. He felt sick. He wanted to run away. This was it. God, he couldn’t do this.

“Mr. Stark” the boy honest to god squeaked, and it was enough to have Tony’s mouth curving with a little more sincerity. The boy straightened, gaze sweeping him without an ounce of subtlety, and then he coughed. “Okay. Uh. Maybe a little interested” the boy murmured, one hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck.

“Only a little?” Tony asked, but it was teasing as he slid into a stool, took a $20 from his pocket and added it to the tumbler before he took the whiskey and the boy’s glass, pouring himself two fingers. What a story. He saved the world from aliens, flew a nuke into space and found his soulmate on the hunt for whiskey.

“So. Aliens” he huffed, knocking back his drink. The boy slid back onto the stool besides him and took the glass and bottle, knocking back a shot of his own.

“Aliens” he agreed sombrely.

An hour later and Tony learned his soulmate was called Peter Parker and he loved strawberries but was allergic to almonds and he went to community college because he couldn’t afford MIT and he stared at Tony’s mouth for the entire time he spoke. Peter asked to see his soul-mark, shy and a little tipsy from the half-bottle he’d sumped, and Tony unbuttoned his shirt enough to wriggle around, presenting the inside of his bicep to Peter, who leaned forwards like he was honest to god going to lick it.

“Now yours” he managed, after Peter’s eyes had trailed it (and his chest) for the ninth time. Peter blinked up at him, slow and half-cocked, before he nodded slowly, sliding off the stool to knuckle his belt. He squirmed his jeans down taut, milky thighs that Tony wanted to bite, before hopping effortlessly onto the bar, spreading his thighs enough that Tony could see his own messy scripture down the inside of his right thigh.

Tony shifted off his stool, leaning forwards and between Peter’s legs as much as his bunched up jeans would allow, staring at it. He loved it as much as he ached over it; because how cruel was it, to throw him at a boy like this? He leaned closer though, breathed hot air over it and was absolutely aware of the way Peter’s boxers lifted a fraction.

“Tony” the boy croaked, voice strangled as his hand fell to Tony’s shoulder. Tony was leaning closer, closer, until he could press a firm kiss over the dark ink. He didn’t know why, he just…Wanted to. Wanted to drink in the way Peter’s breath hitched and his hips jerked. Tony pulled back.

They’d just met. Hell, the kid might even have a partner waiting for him at home. Soulmates were never the end all of your life. Howard and Maria had never been soulmates but they’d lived and loved together until Howard had driven his Bughatti into a tree in the dark of a winter night.

Peter’s whimper had him glancing up, taking in blown pupils and flushed cheeks. The boy bit his lip before heaving a breath, fingers digging into Tony’s shoulder. “Fuck. You’re - You’re so hot. You can’t do that. You can’t make me want you like that” the boy mumbled, head shaking even as he tugged Tony closer.

And, well. Tony had never been the golden boy. Rules were meant to be broken.

Peter tasted like wet and whiskey and something a little sweet, like he’d been eating candy. His hands fell to Peter’s hips, digging into the skin above the waistline of his boxers as he kissed him, licked into his mouth and swallowed a muffled moan. Peter’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, drawing him closer until Tony couldn’t go any further because Peter’s tangled legs stopped him.

“Fucking Hell” the boy grunted, leaving Tony long enough to kick off his sneakers and to simply shed his jeans, right there on a bartop in the middle of Manhattan. Tony cursed as slender, long legs spread for him, until their half-hard cocks squeezed together and punched a whine from both of them. Peter was the first to grind forwards, sloppy and without finesse as they kissed again, a slick slide of tongue that ended in a help as Tony bit down on Peter’s bottom lip, dragging him closer by the waist.

“If you - If you stop now I’ll kill you” Peter panted against his mouth, rocking forwards against Tony’s Gucci slacks. Tony couldn’t resist a cruel smirk, drawing his head back to gaze down at the debauched boy.

“I thought you said you weren’t interested?” He asked, arching a brow. The demeanour slipped when Peter drove a hand between them, grasping Tony’s cock through his trousers and squeezing enough to have his hips stuttering forwards. “Daddy doesn’t like to be teased” he growled, surging forwards to cup Peter’s jaw, to kiss him bruisingly as one hand went to the boys wrist, coaxing him into stroking Tony through the fabric.

Peter mewled beneath him, fingers curling and stroking around the shape of him as he rut forwards against his own forearm, nipping at Tony’s tongue gently. “Anything, fuck. Just - Don’t stop. Don’t stop Daddy, please. Please don’t stop” he begged, brainless except for the pleasure. It was a look Tony liked; a lot.

Tony pushed Peter’s arm aside and grasped him by the asscheeks, hauling him against his hips as he ground forwards, fingers dipping between those plump cheeks and straining the fabric to brush against the rose of muscle between them. Peter moaned blatantly into his mouth, hips jerking forwards. “Please” the boy begged again, grinding against him with desperation.

Tony obliged, kissing him with renewed effort and keeping their cocks flush together through their fabrics, a heavy grind that lasted only minutes before Peter was crying out, arching into his body as he came with a half-scream of “Daddy!”

His thighs squeezing Tony’s hips and their cocks squeezed tight together pushed Tony over the edge, cum flooding his silk boxers as he muffled his own pleasure into Peter’s shoulder. Fuck. They’d just done that. Right there.

He begun to laugh. Against his chest Peter made a questioning sound, hands petting at his shoulders.

“So,” Tony drawled, lifting his head to gaze into Peter’s eyes with amusement. “Are we leaving that bit out of the ‘how we met story?”

Peter smacked his shoulder with the empty whiskey bottle.

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noonachronicles · 4 years ago

Text

flour·ish

Lee Minhyuk X Reader

Word count: 11.9k

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Mostly Emotional Infidelity (+ a kiss) .

Genre: Smut Fluff Angsty-ish

A/N: Smutty/Domestic Minhyuk requested by Anon. This was gonna just be a drabble... that worked out well for me.

flour·ish

/ˈfləriSH/

verb

grow or develop in a healthy or vigorous way, especially as the result of a particularly favorable environment.

“Last box!” Minhyuk called triumphantly through the empty apartment, dropping the final box on the counter. “Babe?”

A wave of confusion moved over him as he realized you weren’t there. Forehead creased in concentration he tried to remember if he’d seen you in the bedroom. It was literally a one bedroom, the apartment wasn’t even that big. It should have been impossible for you to have moved passed him without him noticing...at least he was pretty sure he wasn’t that unobservant. He looked back through the apartment once more, flabbergasted by his ability to lose you in an empty apartment. Obviously it was some sort of an untapped talent. He was just about to pull out his phone to call you, see if you’d maybe gone down to the moving van, when he realized where you were.

“Hey!” He popped his head out of the window that led to the tiny three by five fire escape space that the apartment complex had the audacity to call a balcony in their advertisements. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just saying goodbye.” You smiled down at him as he climbed through the window to join you in the tight space. “Plus we almost forgot Cole!”

Minhyuk let out a dramatic gasp as he wrapped his arms around you. “Not Cole!”

“Don’t make fun of me, Minnie.” You said leaning your head back against his shoulder. “Cole was the first gift you ever gave me.”

He hummed against the top of your head and looked down at the vibrant, potted coleus. “I guess it was, wasn’t it?”

“Mmhm. And this is where I fell in love with you.”

“Technically, wasn’t it the roof?” he joked.

“The roof. The balcony. The elevator. The mailboxes. Miserable as it is, I fell in love with you all over this place.”

“Lucky for me.” He whispered softly against your ear. You bit your lip as he slid his hand from your hip over your stomach.

“And what is happening here…” you asked, his fingers undoing the button on your shorts.

“Just…” he chuckled, “I was thinking maybe one more time? Hmm? For old times sake.”

“Why don’t we wait until we get home?” You giggled at the way his fingers tickled between your thighs. “Christen the new bedroom…”

“Why not both?” He asked while his hand disappeared completely down the front of your shorts.

You let out the tiniest whimper, your hand wrapped around the hand he still kept on your hip. “I love you so much, Minhyuk.”

“I love you too.” He said with a kiss to your neck. “It’s why I married you.”

When you first met Minhyuk you were already in a relationship. You were engaged, actually. You had been. To the same man. For three years. You loved Matt, your fiancé, but sometimes it felt like an obligation. Like you had to or you were supposed to. You’d known each other since grade school and started dating in high school. Marriage was the next natural step. Everyone you knew believed the two of you were the real deal. The perfect love story. Childhood friends turned high school sweethearts. You often heard you were meant for each other. That you were destined for forever, but you weren’t sure anymore. You hadn’t been for a while by the time you met Minhyuk. When you finally did meet him, you knew for certain.

It had been easy to overlook the imperfections in your relationship originally because, despite the amount of years you had under your belt, you didn’t actually spend that much time together. In high school Matt played sports while you had spent your time in libraries and coffee shops composing submissions for writing competitions. The two of you had even gone to different colleges. Though they were in the same city, with coursework and jobs to work around, you might as well have been in a long distance relationship. You didn’t even live together, he’d lived on campus and you’d spent a couple years in an apartment with your best friend. After graduation when he finally asked you to move in with him, you still barely saw one another.

Right out of the gate you got something of a dream job as a columnist for one of the few successful remaining print magazines. One you’d been lucky enough to intern for during college. Though recently they had been making the switch to mostly online and pushing writers to work from home so they could downsize the office. You didn’t mind working from home to downsize the office so long as they didn’t try to downsize you. It was an easy job and paid well enough that you lived comfortably and still had the time to work on your own personal writing endeavors.

Matt had been a consultant for tech companies which meant he was always traveling. Even with you working from home the two of you saw each other maybe one week out of every month. Without having the human interaction of the work office, you were often lonely when he wasn’t around. In that way, distance definitely made the heart grow fonder. You learned the hard way that that kind of fondness was feeble when he’d been fired from his position. The pair of you went from one week a month together to every second of every day together and it was more trying that you’d have liked to admit.

Suddenly you were the sole breadwinner and Matt took the opportunity to, as he put it, find his true calling. However a month of soul searching turned into six and six months quickly became a year. The wedding was postponed indefinitely when the two of you blew through every pennies worth of savings including the wedding fund and the nest egg. Before you knew it you were moving from the four bedroom house you’d been renting to a one bedroom apartment with ‘free utilities’.

That was about the time Minhyuk had rooted into your life.

Tensions in your relationship were unbearably high. Constantly on edge with stress, Matt and you fought often and about almost everything. Especially being in such a small space. It was like everything he did wrong was magnified and it made your skin crawl. Being with him had become more of a burden than a pleasure but somehow you’d been together for so long that simply splitting up just never crossed your mind as a possibility. It was like you’d forgotten that it’s what some couples did.

One afternoon, a couple weeks after you moved into the new place, the two of you had gone to the grocery store. You’d just wanted to get a few things to last until the end of week when you got paid but Matt had other plans. Which lead to bickering, which lead to arguing, which lead to fighting the entire walk home from the bodega down the street.

“I just thought it might be nice to have a romantic night in. Since you refuse to let us go out anymore…” he was saying while you waited for the world's slowest elevator.

You’d been searching the bottom of your purse for your keys when it dinged upon opening and you followed him in. When the door closed in front of you, you slammed the button for your floor. “We can’t go out because we can’t afford it! And a romantic night in isn’t an eighty dollar bottle of tequila and a box of cigars out of some guy's coat on the sidewalk!”

“You said you were going to stop bringing money up when we argued.”

“And you said you were going to get a job.” You bit back, “People say things all the time, Matt.”

“I’m trying! It’s not easy right now!”

“It would be easier if you didn’t sleep until two in the afternoon everyday.” You muttered. With your keys in hand you crossed your arms over your chest and stared at the elevator door.

“Why are you so mad? You’re always out on the balcony. We never talk. I just wanted one, nice night with you. One where we don’t fight. Maybe you get a little buzzed and loosen up a little and for once stop acting like you're miserable and we have a good time. I can’t even remember the last time we had sex. You never want to spend time together-“

“BECAUSE!” You snapped, unable to even look at him, you kept your eyes on the dull silver of the elevator door. “because Matt, our apartment is a fucking shoebox with a hundred other little boxes inside of it because you refuse to help me unpack or clean or literally do anything helpful. Not to mention I work from home and ever since you lost your job you’re always around. We spend all of our time together. It’s making me insane. Every little thing you do makes me want to tear out my hair. You leave the seat up on the toilet, you can’t rinse a dirty dish off to save your fucking life. You never leave the house and yet every single day there is a new pile of dirty clothes where it doesn’t belong! I don’t mind...I really don’t, I don’t mind being the breadwinner, but I just need space sometimes. Or help. Something. I love you but it’s so much. I’m so stressed all the time and it would be nice if you could even attempt to shoulder some of the burden. Or at least acknowledge what I do for you. And don’t try and act like you want to spend time together when all you want is an hour long blow job while you play Call of Duty and a five minute fuck before you fall asleep and I have to finish myself off in the bathroom.”

“Do you have a fiancé?” Matt asked.

Confused, you turned to look at him and quickly realized he wasn’t talking to you. Noticing for the first time that your incredibly quiet neighbor was tucked awkwardly in the corner of the elevator and had heard everything. He must have walked in with you when you were searching your bag. Your face flushed red in embarrassment for having gone off in front of him. Suddenly you were going back over your rant to try and remember what you said. Though based entirely off of what you ended with, you knew you wanted to curl up and die no matter what.

“No, I’m not with anyone right now.” He answered.

“Good. Good for you, man.” Matt sighed. “Don’t do it. Save yourself the stress. It’s just nagging all the time.”

You looked over at your fiancé in disbelief and scoffed. “Nice, Matt. That’s really nice.”

Finally the elevator ride from hell ended and the door opened, allowing you to storm out and down the hall in frustration. When you turned to look at Matt, about to complain about his actions in the elevator, you realized the stranger had gotten out too and was now opening the door to the apartment next to you. Before pushing his way inside of his door he looked over at you with a small smile filled with pity. You gulped, face still burning red in combination of anger and embarrassment. What a lovely way to meet your new neighbor.

Weeks had passed and you hadn’t seen your neighbor since the incredibly uncomfortable elevator ride. At first you were grateful for it, and honestly you’d been kind of avoiding him anyway, too ashamed of airing out your dirty laundry like that. Part of you had hoped maybe the longer you went without seeing him the more likely it was he’d forget what happened all together. You knew you weren’t that lucky, but it didn’t hurt to have a positive outlook.

It was already late afternoon one day when you’d finished up your work work and snuck out onto the tiny fire escape ‘balcony’ for your few hours of alone time and to work on the novel you’d been writing. It was a tiny little space but you found if you sat with your knees up near your chest you could place your laptop on top of them like a desk. And you could tuck your mug of tea underneath your tented legs like a little nook. Some days you wouldn’t waste a second, typing away until your fingertips tingled with numbness. Writing as much as you could as fast as you could before the sun set on the city and the screen was too harsh for your eyes.

Other days, like this particular day, you’d sit there curled up on the balcony and just look out over the neighborhood for hours. You'd watch the cars make their way down the street. The people walking down on the sidewalks. Families that left their curtains open in the expensive condos across the street with their massive living rooms the size of your entire apartment. You’d listen to the dogs barking nearby that would create a domino effect of barking dogs all around the block. You could hear couples arguing. Children screaming with laughter as they chased each other around the block on their bikes and scooters.The chaos helped to calm you down.

You’d been sitting there for quite awhile, looking out over the neighborhood, before you noticed it.

Each apartment had its tiny balcony that was attached to a fire escape that lined the length of the building, top to bottom. While you used the space as your personal escape from a floundering relationship, most people just put bikes and things on it as extra storage space. Yours was attached to the same fire escape platform as your neighbors. And sitting there on the platform, for what had to have been the entire time you were sitting there, was a small terra-cotta pot that you’d never seen before. Flowing over its sides was a plant with vibrant green and magenta leaves. When you looked closer you noticed a little white envelope underneath the pot. Pulling yourself to your feet you moved over to the platform and tugged the envelope out from under the plant.

The front of the envelope was simply labeled 8C, which was your apartment number. The note inside of it was just as short and sweet in a nicely scripted handwriting.

8C,

You’re out here a lot on your own. I thought maybe you could use a friend.

Ps. It’s a coleus, keep it in the shade and just water once a day. You should be good. :)

After that you started to wish you would bump into 8D, so you might have the chance to thank him properly for the gift and see if there was anything you could get for him in return. He didn’t have to be so kind but you appreciated that he was. Not even Matt would have considered being so thoughtful.

Cole, as you’d named him, had been wonderfully distracting. You spent almost the entire next day researching how to care properly for your new friend. He made your alone time on the balcony a little bit less lonely as well. Usually you would come out onto the balcony and ask him how his day was, though it was never very interesting, and then afterwards you would vent about how your morning went. Though sometimes you’d also just sit there in silence rubbing the soft, veiny leaves between your finger tips. Regardless of what you did it always felt like you could feel the stress of the day roll off your shoulders.

A week or two had passed and you still hadn’t seen your neighbor. Feeling horrible that you still hadn’t even been able to say thank you for what he’d done for you, you decided to leave him a note. Too nervous about leaving it out on his balcony you had taken it down to the mailboxes one day as you were checking your own and slid it into his box.

I was hoping to say thank you. Why are you so impossible to find?

The next afternoon, you went out to find a piece of paper tucked into Cole’s leaves.

Can you keep a secret?

In an instant you had ducked back inside the apartment. Matt, busy screaming into his headset while he played video games didn’t even notice your reentry. On your work desk you found a blank, bright pink post-it and scribbled on it with a thick black sharpie. Just one word.

Yes!

Crawling back out onto the balcony you shook with nerves. You stepped onto the fire escape platform and then down onto your neighbors balcony space. It looked dark and empty through the window. You didn’t intend to snoop, that’s not really who you were, but there you were with this perfect opportunity.

Peering in through the glass you tried to see what you could learn about your neighbor. The living area and kitchen, all you could really see, were both clean and tidy. A set of four coffee mugs were hanging on hooks, and it looked like the other dinnerware sets were in fours as well. There was nothing to indicate that a second person lived there and you had never seen anyone else go into the apartment, so you assumed he lived alone. Though you were unsure why you found yourself so concerned about it. House plants could be found on most of the counter and table spaces. As well as a couple that hung from hooks on the ceiling.

For a moment you wondered if he knew a plant would be nice for you because he knew what it was like to be lonely too. Other than plants the apartment was filled with art. In one corner, the one you imagined got the most sunlight in the morning, there were two tarp covered easels. There was also what looked to you like a drawing desk, you were sure it was similar to the ones they’d used to have at the magazine office.

You wished you could tell more about him. You’d liked to have maybe gotten an idea for a nice gift that wasn’t a plant, seeing as he already had plenty of those. Before you could do much more snooping you noticed his front door was opening, light from the hallway seeping in through the opening. Quickly and quietly as you could you stuck the note to the window and snuck back over to your balcony and then back inside your apartment for the evening.

The entire rest of the night you shook with nerves of anticipation. Mostly you wondered what the secret would be. Then you wondered if he’d write it in a note or if you’d actually get the chance to see him face to face and speak to him. A little reckless with your thoughts, you almost burnt dinner trying to think about what his voice had sounded like in the elevator. You couldn’t remember.

You also weren’t sure why you felt so nervous to possibly speak to him. It felt, in your gut, like the night before a first date. Like how you’d feel getting ready for dinner with someone you just met. Before bed you even found yourself in the closet, trying to find a cute outfit, but not anything too obviously flirty. Seeing as you were still engaged.

The next day you couldn’t even wait until you were done with work. As soon as you woke up you showered and dressed, and then went immediately out to the balcony. When you did there was a piece of paper taped down, flapping on the platform in the light breeze. When you got closer you saw it read, in bold red painted strokes, START.

Without a second thought you climbed up onto the platform where you found another paper on the stairs with a big red arrow pointing up. You started to move up the fire escape, following a slew of red arrows until you were climbing onto the roof itself.

The view took your breath away. If you thought that the number of plants in his apartment was excessive, this was so much more. You’d found an entire roof top garden. Potted plants were all over the place. All different kinds, all different colors. There was one of those stand alone hammocks and an old rusted patio table with a couple of mismatched chairs. You explored by yourself for a while, taking a self tour of the rooftop and examining the different plants it had to offer.

Minhyuk had seen you plenty of times. He noticed you from the very first day you’d moved in. There was just something about you. He knew you had a boyfriend, or as he’d learned in the elevator, a fiancé. He still couldn’t shake the strong desire to know you. Even just as a friend. It took him ages to build up the nerve to even leave you a gift, too worried you might think his hobby was stupid.

Eyes closed, a smile across your lips, loose hairs blowing gently in the wind, morning sunshine kissing your skin as you lifted your nose ever so just to smell the blooming, peach begonias in their hanging basket. That was Minhyuk’s first vision of you that morning when he’d reached the rooftop. It felt like it was the first time he was really seeing you. And if you asked him, and you would ask him a hundred times in your life together, when he fell in love with you...he would say it was that exact moment every time.

In the same way the garden had with you, you had taken his breath away. Literally, as he’d stepped onto the roof he’d forgotten to breathe as he stood there staring. So when his body forced him to breathe in, finally, he choked on the air and dropped all of his things onto the rooftop. That was what your first real vision of him was. Cheeks flush, hair every which way, eyes panicked, still choking on air, while scurrying to pick up paint brushes and pens that were scattered around on the ground at his feet in every direction.

After the tiniest laugh you hurried over to help him pick up a few lone brushes just out of his reach. He cleared his throat several times before actually reaching out to take the brushes you offered him.

“Thanks.” He said quite shyly.

You smiled kindly before looking over your shoulder at the small garden. “Are these all yours?”

He nodded as he headed over to the table to set his things down. “Yeah. The door to the roof has been jammed shut for decades, probably… and no one ever thinks to take the fire escape all the way up. Well kids sometimes but they’re not so bad. Mostly they just want to smoke pot. If you leave them alone they leave you alone and they’re respectful of the plants. So it’s kind of like having my own extra space. Which is nice because the apartments are so tiny.”

“They are, right?” You laughed, “I’m not just being whiny.”

“No.” He shook his head, “Not at all.”

“Good.”

It was cute how nervous he seemed. A good distraction from the butterflies that were waking up in your stomach as you really looked at him and realized how handsome he was. His jaw was surprisingly sharp, especially in contrast to how soft and kind his eyes were. His bottom lip was plump and looked almost like it was set in a permanent, adorable pout. His cheekbones were so beautifully sculpted it was hard not to reach out and touch them. It had been literally two whole minutes and already you wondered what it might be like to kiss him.

“Well you’re wel-“

“Thank you for-“

Both of you laughed nervously as you spoke together and he scrunched his nose, “You go ahead.”

“Oh, just wanted to thank you for Cole.”

“Cole?” He asked.

“The um…” you flushed in embarrassment, “The coleus you left me?”

Minhyuk smiled so hard he blushed almost instantly, “You named him?”

“Well yeah. He’s my friend so...friends need names, right?” You asked. He nodded and you held out your hand, “My name is y/n. In case you were interested in a friend too.”

“Minhyuk.” He said taking your hand. You didn’t even realize the way your eyebrows raised as you noticed how large his hand was while he wrapped his fingers around yours. “I was just going to say you’re welcome to come up whenever you want.”

You laughed, “You might regret that when I’m in your personal space all the time.”

“I promise, I won’t.” He grinned, finally letting your hand go. “Do you like coffee?”

“Do humans need oxygen to live?”

With another laugh he tugged the messenger bag he’d been using off his shoulder and pulled out a thermos. “Uh...there’s already cream and sugar. I hope that’s okay.”

“You’re so sweet.” You didn’t mean to blurt out the comment, but you did. Minhyuk flushed just as bad as you did. “I just mean...you’re already sharing your space with me, and now your coffee? I...I don’t mind if there’s already cream and sugar, I’m just grateful you’re being so kind.”

With a small smile he handed you the cup. “What are friends for?”

After that morning the two of you spent nearly every day up on the roof together, weather permitting. You’d take up your laptop for whatever articles you were working on or to work on your novel. Minhyuk would bring up his messenger bag full of art supplies and paint or draw. You learned he was a freelance illustrator for a few publishing companies. He mostly drew art for children’s books but that really just paid the bills enough for him to be able to make whatever art he really wanted.

He’d spend the afternoons, once you were done with work, teaching you about all of the types of plants he had. He showed you how to take care of each one and their individual needs. And eventually you started to help him take care of them. You also named each and everyone of them and he made sure to learn every name. Every morning he brought coffee in his thermos and something light to eat for breakfast. You went down every afternoon to the apartment and would bring back lunch for the two of you. You were up on the roof so often you hadn’t even realized when Matt finally got a job because you were never in the apartment during the day enough to realize he wasn’t there.

It was strange to you that with every single day that passed, not once did you ever feel tired of being around Minhyuk. If anything you found yourself wanting to be with him even more. You knew you were falling in love with him and you knew it was wrong. By then it was just too late. You didn’t really care that it was wrong because spending time with Minhyuk was like breathing the freshest air. And how were you supposed to deny yourself oxygen?

Eight months had passed by and they had been, by far, the happiest you’d found yourself in what felt like literal years. Your relationship with Minhyuk was constantly growing beyond the rooftop garden. Every weekend, rain or shine, he’d take you somewhere new so that you weren’t always in the apartment. A nursery outside of the city to browse plants or a museum or gallery to browse art. One thing you’d learned about him was that despite being an amazing plant father, he was terrible at taking care of himself. Every night you’d make extra for dinner and bring him a plate. Otherwise, you knew, he would get too preoccupied and forget to eat all together. On nights when Matt was at work or out of town you’d invite him for a properly done meal.

Nearing the ninth month of your friendship came what would be one of the worst weeks of all of them. It was the one when you’d gotten the worst flu of your life. A few hours into the first morning that you were bedridden and didn’t make it up to the roof Minhyuk had texted you to make sure you were okay. After you told him you were sick he promised to take care of Cole for you and told you to get better quickly. He left you soup and a thermos with hot tea on the balcony every day. He would send you texts all day long so that you always had something to wake up to and never felt too lonely. There would be pictures of his goofy face or a pouty face next to one of the plants. The captions would read things like, “Kevin misses you, but not as much as me”, “Blossom is sort of a gossipy mean girl when you’re not around”. He even sent a picture of a blank canvas and message that just said, “I’m useless without my muse”, which just left you feeling more feverish than before.

On your first day back to the roof you hugged him so tight you were afraid you might break his back but you couldn’t help yourself. You’d also brought him fresh baked cookies for being such an amazing friend. And then you stared at him for several hours and got nearly no work done at all. He didn’t even say anything about it, though you were sure he knew based solely on the way his lip would curl into a smirk every once in a while. He just looked so handsome as he worked. Wire rimmed glasses propped on his nose as he worked on his latest sketch. His hair was so fluffy and soft, his skin perfect and lips pouty. You’d just missed him so much. Pictures that he’d sent didn’t do him half as much justice as he deserved.

For your one year friendiversary you set up fairy lights all over the rooftop garden. It was a two part gift. The first part was so that he could come up at night whenever he wanted to enjoy his plants, which he never really had before. The second was so that you could set up a moonlit picnic dinner. It was perfect timing really, as Matt was out of town for the week with work. It gave you ample time to prepare the rooftop and you didn’t even have to make up an excuse for being out so late the night of the dinner. Minhyuk was absolutely glowing with happiness beneath the lights that night as the two of you sat down on the blanket you’d put out.

“Okay, one last gift.” you grinned after dinner, “Something you can actually unwrap.”

“Another?” he asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. His hand resting on top of his too full stomach. “Do you do this much for all of your friends for all of your friendiversaries?”

“Just you.” you grabbed the long narrow package from the bottom of the picnic basket.

“Well, I don’t deserve it.” he pushed himself up so he was sitting across from you and you placed the gift in his lap. “I still owe you something nice after the Christmas present you got me.”

With a laugh you shook your head, “You don’t owe me anything, Minnie.”

He cleared his throat and looked down at the gift. You weren’t the only person that used a nickname for him, but you were the only one who could make him blush with one. Tearing the shimmery silver wrapping paper from the gift he looked down at a beautiful mahogany brush box engraved with the same whale design that he had tattooed on his thigh.

“Ah, Y/n…” he gulped, feeling his eyes start to water. “It’s too much.”

“You didn’t even open it,” you tittered.

“There’s something inside?” he asked, genuinely shocked.

“Duh!”

“Oh…” he opened the lid of the box and sat speechless. “These are Kolinsky’s.”

“Obviously, I don’t know a ton about paint brushes. I just know you have that one you really love and it said Kolinsky on it. Did I do good?”

He was still pretty unsure of how to respond, “These are worth hundreds of dollars.”

“Well...I wasn’t going to tell you how much they were.” you shrugged, “I just know your big goal this year was to be ready for a gallery showing. If you’re going to be a big fancy artist, you need big fancy brushes. Right? I’m sure you’ll get me something nice after you sell your first thousand dollar pa-”

The words froze in your throat when he leaned forward and pulled you into a hug. He didn’t say anything at first, just wrapped you tightly in his arms. Then quietly against your hair he muttered a soft, “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Oh, Minnie…” You raised your arms around him in return as you felt his arms trembling around you. “Of course.”

Your hand moved gently along the length of his back for a few minutes and he continued to hold you. When he sat back down on the blanket he swiped at his face and then turned behind him to where he’d been keeping his gift for you.

“I have to get you something else now... obviously, but for now.” He handed you the large, but lightweight, gift. “Happy anniversary...friendiversary.”

“You don’t have to get me anything else.” You assured him, “Whatever this is, I can already tell you, is more than enough.”

It was a little unsurprising to you when you pulled away the wrapping paper to reveal the back of a canvas. The note on the back, in his beautiful handwriting, read, ‘For the only muse I’ve ever known. I hope we can continue to grow together.’ You didn’t know when you flipped it over that the image was of the moment he’d fallen in love with you. At first you’d thought it was an angel in a field of peach begonias. It didn’t register that it was you, hand delicately cupping the flowers with the sun dancing across your face and gently, wind strewn hair. You cried and you didn’t even try to hide it.

“She’s beautiful.” you whispered, unable to tear your eyes away.

“She?” he grinned as he watched you, “It’s you.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you choked out, “Me?”

“I painted it when you were sick.” He said nervously watching you look it over.

“I don’t think I've ever looked this ethereal a day in my life. You’re sure you hadn’t already forgotten what I looked like at that point?” You joked but your eyes were still glistening with fresh tears.

“I could never forget.”

When you looked back up from the painting you realized how close he actually was. He realized it too. You watched as he licked his lips, and leaned forward towards your mouth.

“Minhyuk…” you said his name cautiously, though you didn’t say no or move away.

“Please?” He begged, his face looked so pained, “I want just once to know what it would feel like if you were mine.”

“Me too.” You whispered.

You put the painting down beside you and looked back up at him expectantly. Now with your permission he placed his hand on your soft cheek and leaned forward until his lips were against yours. It didn’t take but a moment for you to lean into him, moving your hand to his jaw. It was perfect. It was everything a kiss should be, everything you always imagined it might be with him. You didn’t even consider trying to stop him as he eased you down onto your back. Cradling your head against his arm his tongue brushed against your lip and you opened your mouth to him. Your fingers snuck up into his hair as you moaned into the kiss. Your whole body flooded with warmth.

You’d probably let it go on much longer than you should have but at the same time it was also over before you felt it should have been. He didn’t pull all the way away, in fact he pulled you closer. Wrapped his arms around you fully. As he gently kissed your cheek, your temple, your forehead, your eyes welled with tears. This felt like a goodbye and you knew it had to be. How could you ever be alone with him again after this.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” He said, still cradling your head, “You were worth it. Every second.”

“If I…” you whimpered as tears fell from your eyes. “If he…”

“It’s okay.” He assured you, brushing the hair from your face. “Maybe I get you in another lifetime. I’ll just have to wait.”

The pair of you sat up and Minhyuk held you close, letting you cry against his shoulder for a while. You didn’t want to let go, you didn’t want to let him go. You knew once you did you’d have to leave. And you knew once you left you couldn’t see him again. Your friendship just couldn’t be the same, not with the way you already missed the feeling of his kiss on your lips. Minhyuk knew just as well that this would have to be it, because there was no way he’d be able to just be your friend anymore. Not when he knew, for even for just a few minutes, what it was like to have you as more. He held onto you as long as he could. Until the warmth of your bodies together was no longer enough to keep you from shivering from the cold. The two of you worked together in silence to clean up the picnic mess and he helped you down the fire escape.

When you reached your balcony you dropped the basket and your gift next to the window and looked back over at him, “Minnie?”

“Yeah?” he looked so miserable when he looked back at you.

You threw your arms around his shoulders one last time with all the strength you could. You wanted to squeeze him full of enough love that he wouldn’t forget you, even if you were just a thin wall away. Pressing your nose into his neck you inhaled him deeply. His smell was pure warmth, he smelled the way it felt to sit in a patch of sun to warm up on a chilly autumn day. It reminded you of fresh air and clean clothes. Minhyuk was everything good.

“Take care of our friends.” you whispered, “Maybe someday it won’t be so hard to be around each other and we can go back to being us again.”

“Maybe.” he mumbled, but both of you knew he was lying. He didn’t want to go back to what you were.

When you leaned back, you knew it was a bad idea, but you kissed his cheek. He looked down at you for just a second and you latched at the mouth again. You kissed him hard and his fingers dug so deep into your hips that it hurt but you’d been digging your own nails into his shoulders so hard you were sure it felt the same for him. It wasn’t until you heard the sound of the apartment above yours open their window that you pulled away. Both of you stood still for a minute as you heard the tell tale sounds of someone lighting a cigarette, then you pulled away for real.

“Goodnight, Minnie.” you said quietly.

He nodded and sighed, “Goodnight.”

After that night when Matt came home from his work trip was when the sadness and the longing took a backseat to overwhelming guilt. It had been such a long time since you’d really spent time together that his every move no longer hit each of your nerves. That, in turn, allowed you to remember the things you liked about him and the reasons you loved him. And in a vicious cycle made you feel heavy with guilt all over.

Even if it wasn’t for the kiss you knew you’d gone too far with Minhyuk. You had completely connected yourself with someone else on a mental and emotional level that you might as well have been sleeping together anyway. You thought about how you would have felt if it was the other way around and he was the one that had connected with someone new, fallen in love with someone else. For a long while you debated whether or not to tell him what had happened but ultimately decided against it. You weren’t sure how Matt would react, but you didn’t want Minhyuk to be in any trouble. He hadn’t really done anything wrong. You’d been the one in a relationship. You were the one that should have been able to restrain yourself.

Weeks passed and you felt everything going back to normal. During the day you worked on articles, sometimes spending hours in coffee shops just to get away. Evenings you spent out on the balcony with Cole. Nights you would lay across the couch with your head on Matts’ lap while he played some videogame or another. You hardly ever saw Minhyuk.

It wasn’t clear to you yet if it was a blessing from god or cruel a twist of fate that every time you had seen him you’d been with Matt. Mostly it was coming into the building or at the mailbox which wasn’t always terrible. It was elevator rides that took forever that hurt the worst. Usually it was you standing in between the two of them. Matt making excruciating small talk, asking him if he was seeing anyone or how work was going. Having to catch his scent for just a moment and not being able to dive into him. You nearly choked one night. You had almost made it safely inside the apartment when Matt mentioned to Minhyuk that he was gone a lot of the time. He said the two of you should hang out. It would be nice for you to have a friend. He even asked him, half jokingly, to keep an eye on you for him.

Albeit lackluster, it seemed like your life was back on its previous track. Things between you and Matt were decent, work was going well, and you hadn’t cried in the shower over Minhyuk in nearly a week. It was at about that time that you’d come back into the apartment one evening to find Matt standing over the bed. On top of the duvet was the painting Minhyuk had done of you and the small box that held every note Minhyuk had ever written you. From the one he left on Cole to the ones he’d sneak into your mailbox or hide in your closed laptop, or tape to the window outside your balcony. You didn’t think any of them were anything bad, regardless you had kept all of it hidden away in the back of the closet like a dirty secret.

“What are you doing?” you asked quietly from the doorway.

“I was getting out my luggage for my trip tomorrow.” he said, staring down at the letter in his hands, his jaw was clenched tight. “I found your box.”

“Okay.” you gulped.

“Did you fuck him?”

You shook your head, “No. It wasn’t like that.”

“It wasn’t?” he gave a sarcastic chortle and tossed the letter in his hands to the bed. “You won’t look at him. You never fucking talk to him. When you see him at the mailbox or heading into the elevator, you always make up some bullshit excuse to avoid being around him with me.”

“That doesn’t mean we had sex.” you sighed.

“Well what were you trying to hide then? Why hide these?” he asked and looked over at the painting. “Do you love him? Because I’d bet everything that he’s in love with you.”

It felt like you were burning up, you didn’t even know what to say. Standing there you’d come to the easy conclusion that everything that happened after the night you kissed Minhyuk was a lie. There wasn’t a part of you that actually wanted to be with Matt anymore. Nothing about what you felt for him was even at a comparable level to how much you loved Minhyuk. You’d tried to lie to yourself again like you had before, like you had been for years. You’d tried to convince yourself that Matt was your destiny and something you just had to surrender yourself to, but you couldn’t anymore. Not now that you knew what was out there. You missed Minhyuk so much that most days your whole body ached for him.

“Yes.” you admitted quietly. “Yes, I’m in love with him.”

“More than you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you still want to marry me?” he asked.

You shook your head, you didn’t even have tears to cry in this moment, “No, I don’t.”

For a while Matt went off on you and you let him. He yelled for some time, and then he cried, and then he yelled some more. He convinced himself that the two of you had been sleeping together every time he was away. He called you every name in the book and demanded that you give him his ring back, which you did without argument. At one point he attempted to kick you out of the apartment, even going so far as throwing some of your things into boxes. Then in the end he decided he was the one that was going to leave and started to pack his things.

Once things seemed settled, within a blink, you were knocking rapidly on the door of the apartment 8D. You could have waited until morning. Maybe that would have given you time to come up with something spectacular to say. Some beautiful confession of your love. You could meet him in the garden, in the soft morning light. Surrounded by all of the plants like a secret, romantic garden. Instead you had waited about five of the most awkward moments of your life watching Matt angrily stuff his clothes into suitcases. Then you couldn’t wait a single second more. You missed Minhyuk’s sweet face. His warm energy. You just missed him.

When the door opened to reveal Minhyuk you knew you didn’t have any poetic confessions of love on the tip of your tongue. So before he could even get out his first syllable you threw your arms around him and planted your lips against his in a kiss. He stiffened for a moment in surprise before easing into it. His long arms slipping around your waist and pulling you in tight.

Before things could get too heated, which you were more than ready for, he pulled away. “What...what are you doing?”

“I love you.” you felt you had your priorities straight, then followed with, “I left Matt. He’s packing right now, but I couldn’t wait another second, Minhyuk. I had to tell you. I had to see you. I love you. I want to be with you. I missed you so much. You were right here and I couldn’t stop missing you.”

“You love me?” He asked with a bright smile lighting up his face.

“Yeah...a lot.” A wave of relief crashed over you and you felt the tension leave your body. “Is that okay?”

“Wow. Oh man.” He let out a heavy breath and pulled you in tighter than before. “I love you too.”

“Is it okay…Can I stay with you for a couple hours?” You asked, “Just until he’s packed and gone. And then I’ll leave if you want and we can figure everything out tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed. “Of course you can stay! Stay with me forever! Never leave my side.”

“Minhyuk…”

Both of you were surprised by the female voice that came from inside his apartment. You looked up to see a beautiful, although confused, young woman standing in his living room.

“Are you…” you looked up at Minhyuk, entirely amused, “On a date?”

“Ah, yes. I am.” He flushed, “...I forgot.”

You covered your mouth as you snorted out a laugh. You should have felt worse for the poor girl, but something about this moment was just too funny.

“You must be Y/n.” She said with a small smile as she stepped towards the two of you.

“Um… yes.” Now confused yourself, you still reached out to accept her outstretched hand. “I’m so sorry, have we met?”

With a laugh she shook her head, “No, no! I’m Jamie. I’ve just…I was looking at Mins paintings and I recognized you. I have you hanging in my bedroom.”

“Huh?”

“That’s how I met Jamie.” Minhyuk let out a breath of a laugh, “She bought one of my paintings...of you.”

“Honestly, you were just so ethereal, I had to have it. I can see why you’re his favorite subject.” She blushed. “I can also see that I should leave.”

Still a little confused, you watched as Jamie grabbed her bag from the kitchen counter.

“Sorry.” Minhyuk offered awkwardly as she made her way to the door.

“It’s okay. I totally get it.” She smiled over at you and placed a gentle hand on your forearm. “It was such a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too.” You grinned.

She thanked Minhyuk for a lovely dinner and then the two of you watched as she made her way to the elevator.

“Was she flirting with you?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t know…” you couldn’t help but giggle as he pulled you inside the apartment and shut the door with his foot, “I think so.”

“I don’t blame her.” His lips pressed hard against your cheek, “You want a drink?”

“Sure. Whatever you’re having is fine.”

You missed his arms around you as soon as they slipped from your hips. And you watched him walk over to the tiny kitchen. As he was busy pouring drinks you moved over to his art desk. You realized you’d never actually been inside of his apartment before. You’d only ever seen it from the balcony that one time. Even when you’d had dinners together it was him coming over to yours.

Your heart started to feel overwhelming in your chest as you stood there looking. It was a lot of you to take in but at the same time it didn’t feel creepy or uncomfortable. There were little sketches of you on top of the desk. Smaller canvases lined along the wall of paintings that could have been any woman, but you knew it was you. And on the easel there was a work in progress, an oil painting that took your breath away.

“I’m not a creep.” Minhyuk said as he walked up beside you and handed you a glass. “I swear I’m not. I’m just totally in love with you.”

Your lip trembled slightly as you looked up at him. Your eyes were glossy and threatening real tears. Minhyuk pouted as he looked down at you.

“Are you okay?” He asked with genuine concern, “Did I do something wrong?”

“Is that really how you see me?” You asked in a whisper.

He looked over at the painting in consideration. “I haven’t gotten it perfectly yet, I’m still working on it. But yeah, that’s pretty close to how I see you.”

You looked around for a surface to put your drink and when you couldn’t find one fast enough you handed your glass back to him.

“Don’t go.” He begged, as he took your glass.

You didn’t. You had never intended to leave, you just needed a place to put your glass so you could reach up and hold his face in your hands. Then you pulled his lips to yours. When you finally pulled back from the kiss his eyes were closed, and his mouth was open just slightly like they were waiting for another kiss. He looked as completely blissed out as you felt.

He didn’t open his eyes until you’d taken back your glass. You laughed at the disappointment on his face as he realized that was it and then turned back to his desk. There was a cork board on the wall behind the desk that you hadn’t noticed before. Pinned to it, it had every note you’d left him. Even the bright pink post-it that just said Yes!

“I have all the notes you left me too.” You said with a blush.

“I hoped you might have.”

Turning back to him with a grin, you placed your drink on the top of the stool beside the desk. “Can I make a pretty bold assumption?”

“Of course.” He shrugged.

Biting your lip you tugged at the bottom hem of your shirt until you’d pulled it over your head. A warmth moved through you as he stood there silently, wink-blinking as he looked over your body.

“I assume you want to sleep with me.”

He opened his mouth to say something but thinking better of it he bent down and placed the glass with his drink in it on the floor before throwing himself at you. Wrapped up in his arms you laughed, and he walked you backwards until the two of you were crashing down on the couch.

“Best day.” He muttered against your neck with a kiss as his hands spread out over your skin. Your fingers dug into his hair with the slightest tug.

“Absolutely.”

After that it was the two of you. For a while you kept your apartment. Partly in case it didn’t work out, though neither of you ever expected it wouldn’t. Mostly it was so that you didn’t feel like you were incapable of being on your own. Having been with Matt since high school you’d moved from your parents home to a brief stint with a friend and then into a place with him. You didn’t want to be the type of girl that just jumped from one guy to the next. You wanted a chance to prove your independence. Eventually, with the amount of time you spent together, it became clear that your apartment had become a very pricey walk-in closet and it just wasn’t worth pretending anymore. You knew where you wanted to be.

Within three months of dating you were engaged, again. Minhyuk had asked you the night of his very first gallery opening and it was more than a pleasure for you to be able to say yes. Both of you had intended on a short engagement, but you had to postpone when the book you’d completed got picked up by a publisher. It had been Minhyuk’s birthday surprise to you. He’d sent in an early draft to a publisher friend of his and they had loved it. Besides that one week you’d been sick with the flu and unable to see him, the worst time was a two month book tour. You probably wouldn’t have ever needed to go on one if it wasn’t for your coworker writing an article for the magazine about it that had gone viral. After a couple hundred thousand preorders, the publishing company decided that it would be an amazing idea. The whole thing was a daze and while some parts were fun and you were grateful for every second it was hard to be away from Minhyuk for too long. When he surprised you in one of the cities around week four you cried for five whole minutes. Just holding him and sobbing. A little from pure exhaustion from the traveling but mostly because you had just missed him that much.

When you returned home you were pretty quick to start planning the wedding, because, now under contract, you were also responsible for planning and executing your next novel. Luckily, you still had a lot of your dream details left over from when you’d been planning with Matt. There were just a few things here and there you wanted to personalize. The next six months went by in a flurry. Working on the second book, wedding, honeymoon, working on the book on the honeymoon, getting reprimanded by a pouty Minhyuk for working on the book during the honeymoon, making it up to him all over the suite at the resort, coming home to finish the second book, Minhyuk’s second gallery opening, and the second book book tour.

Then it felt like for a minute you could breathe again. And you spent most of your time inhaling the fresh air that was Minhyuk while spending your days back up on the roof together. It wasn’t until he’d left one night to pick up the take-out for dinner and come home with a puppy, forgetting the dinner all together, that the two of you decided it was time to move out of the tiny one bedroom you were sharing. Though somehow with him it had never seemed that small, it just felt right.

“I'm not sure I like this.” You frowned as you looked over the room that was meant to be your writing office. “This place is too big. And…your studio is all the way outside?”

“You’re being pretty whiny for someone who said they had to have this house or they’d just die.” Minhyuk laughed as he came into the room behind you, “Where do you want Cole?”

You flailed your arm around dramatically, “Pfff! By the window, whatever. I don’t care.”

With another huff of a laugh he went over to the window and put your plant on the sill. He looked out at view for a second and then turned to you, holding out his hand, “Come here, big baby.”

You managed to somehow pout even harder as you grabbed his hand. He just smiled and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and adjusting your gaze with his free hand so that you were looking out at the backyard. Daisy, your ever growing, six month old golden retriever, was rolling around in the dewey grass quite happily.

“Look,” he pointed across the way, to the backyard studio that he’d claimed for his art studio. “If you put your desk right here, you can see me whenever you want.”

“I don’t know,” you sighed leaning against his chest. “It’s so far. Aren’t you going to miss me?”

“Every second I’m away, Beautiful.” he patted your back, “It’ll be hard travelling so far away for work every day, but I don’t think we need paint fumes in the house. Plus, they say distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Just because you got famous doesn’t mean you have to start upping your paint game. Using different mediums? Spray paint? Massive art pieces? Unnecessary. The Mona Lisa is basically a notebook doodle. Just sell notebook doodles.” you grinned up at him and he kissed the tip of your nose. “And anyway, I think we’re a little too fond of each other. In fact, I think I’m so fond of you that you shouldn’t leave my side for months, that way I get tired of you.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work the way you think it is.” he laughed. “Did you already forget how small our apartment was? We were basically conjoined.”

“It wasn’t small, it was cozy.” you argued, while he pulled you from the office down the hall. He was perfectly fine arguing with you all night, he only thought some unpacking should be done while you did so. “The only reason I even suggested we move was for Daisy. She’s already so big, it wouldn’t have been fair to keep her there.”

“Baby,” he chuckled, disappearing for a second as he carried a box that read kitchen into the kitchen before reappearing without it, “You hated that apartment. You once referred to it as a shoebox. Which really was generous, those things were more like matchboxes. Which is probably why you’re freaking out and acting like a regular sized house is Buckingham Palace.”

You opened a box labeled living room and sighed, “It’s different with you, Minnie. I want to be around you. I like being around you. No place with you is too small because ‘with you’ is my favorite place in the world, it's why I promised my whole life to it.”

Opening another living room box you tossed a few throw pillows across the large open space towards the couch. It seemed hard to unpack when you didn’t even have enough furniture in the house to be sure where things were going to go. The bed and dresser had been moved upstairs to the bedroom, your desk was in your office and there were a few bookshelves randomly placed around the living room with the one couch and its one matching chair, but that was it. That had been all you could fit in the apartment. The house was so bare with the exception of about a thousand potted plants that had previously occupied the apartment rooftop, and you’d yet to decide what to do with them. After a minute of quiet passed your heart raced at the thought that Minhyuk had left the room without even saying anything.

“Min! Oh-” you gasped realizing he was still behind you, leaning against the bare wall, just watching. “What?”

With a grin he stepped towards you, his hand lifted to the back of your neck, and he pulled your mouth to his. You moaned instantly at the taste of him on your tongue. When he finally let off enough you were panting for breath and your lips felt swollen and sore.

Pressing his forehead to yours he whispered a sweet, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” you giggled lightly as his hands moved over you with an unintentional tickle.

Locking you into another kiss his hands gripped your hips and pushed them until you were flush against the wall. While he groaned into the kiss you felt his hands grow frantic at your hips, needing your shorts off of your body immediately. His hot breath passed over your face in a sigh as when his fingers were finally able to reach between your thighs.

“Ah, fuck, baby.” he sucked the skin of your neck into his mouth with a pinch. “You’re warm...so wet already.”

“It’s because you’re such a good kisser.” you grinned and caught his bottom lip between your teeth.

Keeping you pressed against the wall with the kiss he moved his long, narrow fingers over your wet slit until you were mewling and then sunk them into you up to the knuckle. Your mouth fell open in a gasp as you clenched around his fingers desperately. He grinned, quite pleased with himself as your head fell back against the wall.

“Min...Minnie…” you gasped different variations of his name over and over as his hand pumped in and out of you at an excruciating pace. “Minhyuk!”

“Not yet,” he whispered against your neck, slowing his hand exponentially before he knelt down in front of you.

You whined and squirmed at the loss of his fingers as he used both hands to drag your panties down to your ankles to meet back up with your shorts. Then he was lifting one of your legs over his shoulder, watching your arousal drip down your thigh before he called you his beautiful girl which only served to turn you on further. You whined again and finally his lips wrapped around your clit, he was just as brilliant at kissing your pussy as he was your mouth. Your palms slammed against the wall, desperate for something to hold onto as his fingers slipped back inside of you, joining his mouth for the attack.

“I...you...yes! Yes..can’t!” you cried out, your voice echoing through the emptiness of your new home. Minhyuk laughed with you still firmly between his lips at your incoherent rambling. Then you finally offered up something he could understand, “Cumming… fucking cumming.”

Though, with his fingers still curled inside of you, massaging your g spot, he didn’t need you to tell him. He could feel the telltale clench around his fingers before you drenched his hand and chin with your orgasm. He kept going, as you came down from your high until you whined in complaint of the overstimulation. You sunk down easily into his lap and kissed yourself clean off of his mouth.

“Couch?” you asked.

“Couch.” he agreed and the two of you got to your feet.

In front of the old faithful couch you undressed your husband slowly. Shirt first so you could leave kisses all over his shoulders and chest as you sunk down to your knees before him. Taking in the view of his soft stomach you grinned and leaned in to leave several intentional kisses.

Running his hand through your hair he laughed at the feel. “What are you smiling about?”

Leaning back on your heel you unbuttoned his pants, dragging them down his thighs along with his underwear. “Lee Minhyuk, you are so sexy. That’s what I’m smiling about. Sit”

He did as he was told and sat down on the couch in front of you. You pushed open his knees and scooched between them. Mesmerized he watched as you took his hardened length into your fist. A thin stream of spit waterfalled from your lips to his tip and he whimpered at the sight. You felt his dick twitch in your hand and grinned once more as you spread the saliva over his length with your hand. Leaning forward you held his dick up, tickling the base with several flicks of your tongue before dragging it up along the thick vein that led to his tip. You watched with a sense of pride as his thighs gave a tremble at the feeling. You took his length into your mouth and released a moan around him. His palm landed on top of your head gently, fingers digging into your hair. He didn’t move to pressure you deeper, just massaged the back of your head with his large hand. You took all of him down your throat on your own, letting out little gags and making sure it sounded nice and wet. Sloppy the way he liked it.

“Stop! Stop!” he gasped after a few minutes, just as you felt his thigh muscles tightening underneath your hands.

Pulling yourself off of him you looked up with watery eyes and a swollen mouth. “What? Did I do it wrong? Did you hate it?”

With a laugh he shook his head, “Shut up, silly girl. Get up here.”

Using the couch cushions you pushed yourself to your feet. Minhyuk had his hands on your hips quickly, pulling you forward so that you were straddling his lap. After a complaint about your shirt still being on he helped pull it over your head and tugged you forward for a kiss. Your hands cupped just below his jaw as you leaned into the kiss. One of his hands slipped between your thighs to make sure you were still ready for him, but you already knew you were. His other hand moved behind you at the same time to make quick work of your bra clasp, the straps falling off your shoulders to catch in the crook of your elbows. He’d grabbed himself between your legs and dragged the head of his cock against your pussy causing you to jolt forward in surprise.

“Oh fuck, Min.” you gasped as you sunk down onto him. “You hit so deep.”

He smiled and helped pull your bra from your arms before tossing it to the side. “You take me so good, baby.”

The loud, wet slap of skin against skin bounced off the walls as you bucked your hips into his. His mouth fell open, light huffs of air flying from his mouth as he jerked his hips up to join yours in their mission for satisfaction. In a handful of minutes you were so close, just a screaming whiny mess as you bounced yourself on top of his lap. He’d had both of his hands on your hips guiding you forward but he dropped one to thumb quick circles against your clit.

“I need you to cum.” he hissed between his teeth, sweat dripped down his neck while he worked hard for you. “God...baby, please cum.”

His desperate plea took you over until you were practically vibrating, pulsing around him. Your head dropped to his shoulder and you licked the salty sweat off the length of his neck. Arms tightening around your body his hips jolted upwards roughly a few more times until he stalled inside of you and you could the warm gush against your walls. Your whole body slumped languidly against his chest as you caught your breath. His hands moved over your skin, your back, your hips, your thighs. He was so gentle that you sighed in total satisfaction, you nearly fell asleep, indulging in the comforting scent of him. After a few minutes he let out a hefty groan and flipped you so you were on your back.

“Why?” you whined as he pulled away from your naked body and took his warmth with him.

He didn’t answer right away, but tugged his underwear up his legs. Standing up straight with a stretch he looked around the room and hurried over to another pile of boxes. He tore through a couple without taking anything out, in the last one he dragged out a blanket and brought it over to you. Covering you up he leaned back down quickly and left a kiss on your forehead.

“Someone has to let the dog in.” he explained finally, and took off to the kitchen to open the back door.

In no mood to do much of anything anymore you snuggled into the comfort of the couch until you heard the pitter patter of Daisy’s paws against the hardwood. Her heavy panting let you know she had probably been totally fine running around outside. You gave her scratches behind her ears as she licked at your face and neck until you were too giggly. Then she sprinted excitedly back to Minhyuk, wherever he was, and back to you and then back to him until he was back in the room with you. With a giant, satisfied smile he walked back over to the couch and wiggled his body between you and the couch. Kissing the top of your messy hair he offered you half of his peanut butter sandwich, which you accepted gratefully.

“We should probably have real food.” he hummed in agreement through a mouthful of sandwich. “But like...food from somewhere that delivers.”

“Kay,” he agreed as he tucked comfortably into the warmth of you and kissed your shoulder as you gave Daisy a piece of peanut butter and bread crust. After a minute he said, “I think you’re right.”

“About food? Because yeah, I’m pretty hungry now.”

“No.” he laughed slipping an arm around you, “I think the studio is too far from your office.”

With a blush of amusement on your cheek you pulled his arm tighter around you, “We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out.” he agreed.

#lee minhyuk scenarios #monsta x scenarios #lee minhyuk smut #monster x smut #minhyuk scenario #minhyuk smut #lee minhyuk x reader #monster x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #lee minhyuk monsta x #minhyuk monsta x

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imaginingsoftly · 4 years ago

Text

Wedding Date Pt 4 - Tyler Seguin

Type: strangers-enemies-lovers, series

Requested: no

Warnings: swearing

Three weeks. Melissa made it three weeks in Dallas before she ran into any members of the Dallas Stars. Her brain, paranoid as it was, had convinced her it would be Tyler that she ran into. Everyone else she could skate by unnoticed, but not Tyler. He’d tried to message her on Instagram a few times after the wedding, though he gave up after a couple of weeks when her messages remained short and detached or nonexistent.

It wasn’t that she was uninterested; if anything, she was a little too interested in him. She also knew that he wasn’t the type to do a relationship, and despite all of her joking that weekend of the wedding Melissa wasn’t the type for a hookup. Kirsten was still pissed at her for ghosting him. Actually, pretty much everyone that had seen them together was upset.

Melissa strode out of a coffee shop and directly into what felt approximately like a brick wall. Said wall made a small “oof” noise, like her shoulder had knocked the wind out of it, and she squinted up to see it was a person, not a wall. Most of the team should have still been out of the city; training camp wasn’t due to begin for another month or so. Instead of being on vacation like a normal NHLer, however, Jordie Benn was standing in front of her. One of his hands came up to Melissa’s shoulder to steady her as she stumbled backward slightly. “You’re Melissa. You were in that wedding Segs went to.” It was impressive that he had recognized her from one Instagram post, and Melissa knew that lying to him would get her nowhere.

“I am. How the hell do you know who I am?” She hadn’t meant to sound so combative, but Jordie just laughed.

“Segs hasn’t shut up about you for weeks. Plus, he posted those photos.” True. He’d even tagged her in them, despite her best efforts to convince him not to. She’d been deleting follow requests on her private Instagram account ever since. “Segs was under the impression that you live outside DC, but I’m gonna guess you moved?” He waited for Melissa to nod. Damn, he was good. “C’mon.” Jordie gestured at his car. “I’ll bring you to my place to meet my wife. Make a friend your age, and maybe you can get her out of the house on occasion so that I can have baby time without her hovering over me?”

Melissa laughed. She wouldn’t normally just follow some random person, but this was Jordie. Tyler had talked about him that night he word-vomited and made her coffee, and he sounded like her kind of people. Plus, it’s hard to resist a bear of a man talking about wanting one-on-one time with his baby. “Lead the way, then. I’ll never say no to friends and babies.”

He led her to an SUV that didn’t fit what Melissa expected him to drive at all. She’d almost expected a jacked-up truck or a Jeep. “He hasn’t shut up about you, you know.” Melissa fumbled with her seat belt when Jordie spoke again. Sure, he’d been messaging her, but she hadn’t expected him to talk about her with his friends. Melissa didn’t respond, and the pair fell silent as they drove to the outskirts of the city.

The outside of the Benn house looked cozy, mostly natural woods and an all-American type front yard. Melissa felt a jolt of nerves as Jordie pulled into the driveway, like it had finally hit her that she let some random stranger drive her to his house without a second thought. It was probably the dumbest thing she’d ever done. “Hey. I promise you and Jess will get along. And everybody loves babies, yeah?” He sounded like the older brother she’d never had, and his voice was more reassuring than she expected.

Jordie led Melissa inside, calling out a quiet “babe?” as he shut the front door. They walked down a long hallway into the kitchen, where a woman was shuffling coffee and a baby. “Jess, I brought a friend of Segs’ home with me. Melissa just moved to the city, needs some female friends.” It was a little embarrassing to hear Jordie lay it all out there like that, but he was right. Melissa had been in the city for almost a month now, and she’d yet to meet anyone outside of the other professors in her department. Introversion a million, Melissa zero.

“It’s nice to meet you, Melissa. I’m Jess and this,” she bounced the baby on her hip slightly, “is Billie.” Billie made grabby hands at Melissa, and she laughed. Jess put out her other hand for Melissa to shake, and she gripped the other woman’s hand gratefully. Jordie slung an arm around Jess’ waist, pulling her in so he could plant a kiss on her forehead. Melissa made faces at Billie while Jordie whispered in his wife’s ear, and Jess nodded. “You up for burgers and drinks?” she asked. “We’ve moved Billie completely to baby food, so I can actually consume more than one drink a day now.” Melissa nodded in agreement. It would be stupid to pass up such a good opportunity to make a new friend. And one with a cute baby, no less.

They made their way out to the patio, when Jordie turned on the grill and Jess handed Billie over to Melissa. “So,” the other woman said with a smirk, “you and Tyler?” Melissa groaned. Not even ten minutes. She looked over at Jordie for help, practically begging him with her eyes to step in, but he leaned back against the railing of the patio like he wanted to know as well.

Melissa turned her gaze down to Billie and ran her fingers through the baby’s hair. “My best friend Kirsten is his cousin. She got it into her head that Tyler and I both needed a good person to be in a relationship, and that meant we should be in a relationship with each other. She spent most of her wedding weekend trying to set us up, and that included putting us in the same hotel suite.” Jordie groaned in sympathy, muttering something about Tyler as a roommate. “We got along really really well, actually. It was fun to talk to him. He made me laugh harder than any guy has been able to in a long time.” She smiled down at Billie gently. “The night of the wedding he got me to dance with him, and then we went back to the hotel suite. We hooked up, it was awkward the next morning, and then I kinda ghosted him.” That was where it all went wrong, really. It was a pretty asshole thing on her part, and she knew it.

She didn’t get a chance to continue before Jordie was stepping in. “He doesn’t even know you’re in the city, and he’d been talking about how much he wants to see you again. He talked about trying to get you to see him when the team plays in DC this season.” Melissa’s stomach dropped. She didn’t see the judgement in either Benn’s faces when she looked up at them, though Jordie’s face still made her feel bad. He looked almost disappointed in her, and it hurt a surprising amount for someone she had literally just met. “He really liked you too.” Melissa didn’t have anything to say to that, and Jess quickly changed the subject.

It was nice to just sit and talk with Jess and Jordie, especially as the conversation moved to how they’d met and stories about Jordie’s career. Hours passed as they sat there and talked, and Melissa and Jess managed to work through a bottle and a half of white wine together. For once she was relaxing and just enjoying the flow of conversation without the crutch of a familiar face alongside her.

She was still holding Billie when Tyler appeared. Billie giggled sleepily on Melissa’s shoulder as she swayed along to the country song playing softly on the patio, though Melissa froze when she saw Tyler staring at her in the doorway. “Tyler,” she breathed. Her words broke the spell that held him in place, and Tyler strode back into the house without a word. “Shit.” Melissa handed Billie back to Jessie and took off in Tyler’s direction. She could hear Jordie arguing with Tyler near the front door, and then a thud as Tyler threw the door open.

Jordie stared at Melissa as she ran past him and out the front door. She threw an apology at the larger man over her shoulder, though she didn’t stop. Tyler was almost at his car. “Tyler!” He didn’t stop. If anything, it looked like he sped up. “Ty, stop.” He froze at the sound of his nickname. Melissa’s breath came out slightly ragged when she finally reached him, taking in the set of his shoulders and the way the muscles in his neck clenched. “I’m sorry.”

Of all the things she could have said in that moment, it seemed like those were the worst words she could have chosen. “Oh, you’re sorry?” Tyler whipped his head around. His eyes were angry, but there was more there. Frustration? Embarrassment? She couldn’t place it. “What are you sorry for, exactly? Sorry that you hooked up with me? Sorry that you ghosted me?” He gestured shortly at the house, where Jordie was standing outside with his arms crossed. “Sorry that you showed up at my friend’s house after ignoring me for weeks, acting like nothing happened? Sorry for what, Melissa?” He was breathing heavily, arms spread out on either side of his body, and the guy standing in front of her was nothing like the Tyler she’d seen on television or the one that had made her laugh so much over that weekend.

She didn’t get a chance to say anything else. “I really don’t want to talk to you right now.” Tyler jumped into his car and slammed the door shut before Melissa even got a chance to open her mouth.

“You deserved that, you know.” Jordie’s voice sounded from beside Melissa. “I’m sure that’s not what you want to hear, but you do.” Melissa looked over at the larger man to see him staring down at her with something akin to sympathy. “Doesn’t mean I won’t help you fix it though. You’ve got friends in Jessi and I now, and Segs is one of my best buddies. We’ll help you work it out, if that’s what you want.” Was that what she wanted? Tyler leaving her alone had been the goal, or at least she’d thought it was, so why did him leaving bother her so much?

Jordie put a hand on Melissa’s shoulder when she nodded. “Alrighty then. We’ll start tomorrow. I’m hosting a barbeque, and Segs will be there. For now, let’s get you home, yeah?”

#nhl imagines #nhl imagine #wedding date ml #tyler seguin imagine

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cookinguptales · 5 years ago

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You know, I wasn’t going to write about this, but I just got the most insulting message about all this — so screw it, here I go:

I talk a lot about accessibility problems in daily life, but not typically about the unmitigated hell that is air travel. I have been insulted, touched without my permission, accused of faking, asked intrusive medical questions, gotten homophobic lectures from attendants I couldn’t get away from, been instructed to walk multiple times — and two of my personal wheelchairs have been broken.

All that said, the worst service I have received in my life has been from American Airlines. They consistently screw me over. They “forget” to preboard me. They “forget” to bring me a wheelchair. Heck, once I requested a bathroom break and I came out to find my wheelchair assistant gone. I had to sit there in the Cincinnati airport alone, frantically TWEETING AT THE AIRPORT, until a gate attendant took pity on me and took me down to baggage herself.

But if you really want to know how bad flying with them is, let me describe my experience flying with them a week and a half ago for a work trip. (In other words, I was not allowed to choose my airline.)

I arrived at the Philadelphia airport. I asked for assistance several times and was told to sit down in a waiting area and someone would be by shortly. I sat there for 45 minutes, at which point the person who told me that came by and it became immediately apparent that they’d forgotten about me. 20 minutes later, I finally got my wheelchair. In the end, I almost missed my plane.

The attendant, when he came, did not introduce himself or really talk to me at all. When we got to security, he refused to touch my belongings (attendants need to put our belongings on the conveyor because, y’know, we can’t get up there) and demanded I get up and do it myself, something I’ve literally never encountered before. In the end, he wheeled me over to the belt and made me strain to put my things on it because he was acting like my belongings were diseased.

When he rolled me up to the scanners, he did not ask me about my ability to walk, just demanded I get up. I requested a non-metal cane (because my own had been put on the belt) and he got very huffy about it, but another TSA agent heard me and gave it to me. After I finally got through the scanner, he did not bring the wheelchair over to me so I could sit in it, and I was forced to walk across the room to him. Yeah, it hurt.

I was handed off to like… six different attendants throughout the course of my trip to the terminal. At one point, I was forced to walk to get onto a shuttle bus. The wheelchair was not loaded on with me. When we arrived, there was no wheelchair waiting. I was told to wait on the bus — but then the driver started pulling away with me trapped on the bus. The driver was behind glass so I had to literally bang on the windows of the bus so someone would notice and stop the bus. Instead of bringing the wheelchair to me, I was expected to climb off the bus, walk inside, and get a new one. Wow, accessibility.

I finally had to demand a bathroom break because no one asked me if I needed to eat/drink/pee and I’d had to hold it for two hours at this point. I was told to walk to the bathroom. After I refused, more huffing, but someone got a wheelchair to walk me over.

FINALLY, TIME TO BOARD! Psych, I got outside, was told it was a tarmac boarding (something that had not been told to me ahead of time) and that if I’d wanted assistance, I should have preordered an aisle chair, something that’s typically only necessary to request if you’ll need a wheelchair onboard. I have never had to request one and, again, didn’t know it was a tarmac boarding, so I didn’t request it. I was repeatedly asked if I could walk “at all” and if I was sure I couldn’t just walk up. At this point, I was so frustrated that I literally started to cry. In public. They finally took me up.

Note: this was the ramp I’d been expected to walk up. As I was hobbling through the section too thin for the wheelchair, the woman grabbed my cane to “guide” me. I almost fell down.

When I got to Cincinnati, my tweets had apparently been heard. The manager of Prospect, the company AA uses for wheelchair assistance, was waiting for me. He was very nice! He gave me his card! The attendant told me to ask for him by name! I was not happy, but somewhat pacified.

I get to CVG three days later to go home. There is no wheelchair desk at check-in. I see another woman in a wheelchair, so I ask where she got it. Her daughter “found it”, and the woman had already missed her flight because she hadn’t been able to find assistance in time. I talked to two other women who just started walking despite the pain they were in.

I finally figure out where to request a wheelchair. A dedicated desk? No. A passing employee? No. I was supposed to stand in the check-in line. I got upset, so someone at another airline suggested I just cut the line. That was what I had to do, and I felt like a dick.

This line, in fact:

Waited, waited. Finally got a wheelchair. It was not the man I’d been told to request. Whatever. He was nicer than the man at PHL, but I still had to go through a genital pat-down at TSA. (As in, “please spread your legs wider for me”.) Yeah, that happens almost every time when you’re disabled. Fun times. Once I showed signs of being upset and they made me do it twice, without any kind of support to hold me up. Note: I am a sexual abuse survivor.

Finally get to the gate and the attendant leaves. I am in full view of the agent desk. It starts getting close to boarding and no attendant in sight, despite me specifically telling them I’d need help boarding. I got another passenger to go up to them and ask them for help. I was told an attendant would be coming soon. It came time to board, and I was left across the room. I literally started shouting across the room for help. The gate agent looked me in the eye and told me that she wasn’t ignoring me, that I’d be preboarded. SPOILERS: I wasn’t preboarded.

This meant that when I finally got down to the entrance of the plane, I had two options. I could go wait in the line that forms in the aisle while people are putting their baggage up. This is very painful for me, so instead I waited at the door for the people in front of me to sit down. A large line formed behind me because they still kept calling groups to board and again, I felt like a dick. I got to cry in public again.

Boarding in CVG, I didn’t have to do a tarmac boarding, but I still had to disembark that way in PHL. This time, the flight attendants called ahead to make sure I’d have an aisle chair. Those are super fun, by the way, you’re strapped in like Hannibal Lecter and wheeled backwards. :’)

I demanded a bathroom break once we got off. Note: I say “demanded” because no one ever freaking asked because god forbid they treat you like a human. You’re usually expected to just sit there at the gate for a while until a new attendant can take you to baggage, but I’ve taken to asking if they can leave me over by the bathroom instead because I’ve almost wet myself. (I often cannot get to the toilet on the plane.) So anyway, I was taken to a companion restroom. The door didn’t close all the way. Yeah, it was completely broken. This wasn’t a stall. It was a COMPANION RESTROOM WITH A DOOR. If the door doesn’t close, the entire terminal can see in. Instead of taking me to another stall, the attendant just “stood guard” outside the door. So that was super-fun and not nerve-wracking at all.

The attendant then proceeded to get lost in the airport and didn’t believe me when I told her the right way to go. It’s not like I’ve ever flown out of my own home city before or anything, wow.

Now, this was worse than usual. I often have problems with all airlines (Delta was the one that kept smashing up wheelchairs, shoutout) but American is just By Far the worst. I usually fly Southwest because I’ve had far fewer problems with them at PHL (and I don’t have to pay extra for a seat that’s accessible for my needs) but sometimes AA is the only airline that’ll take you where you need to go.

I make this post for two reasons. Number one, I have to fly American again in about a week (again, I did not choose this) and I’m almost sick with worry. I was so stressed out and pained after the last trip that I came home, took very strong painkillers, and collapsed for like a day.

The other reason is that AA finally got back to me about my complaints from last week. They accused me of not asking for assistance ahead of time (I did; I even talked face-to-face with a manager to order accommodations) and snottily told me that I could have asked the gate agent for assistance. So number one, they only answered one of the MANY issues I had. Number two, they implied it was all my fault — despite me doing everything I was supposed to do. Number three, despite the many broken accessible areas, despite the poor treatment by employees, they still hold firm to this “you need to order things ahead of time or you’re screwed” line.

So I ask you. What if you don’t know those policies? What if you’re a child or a first-time flyer? What if you have a short-term injury and aren’t used to this? What if, like that woman in the wheelchair who missed her flight, you’re elderly and ESL and deeply confused?

The pain I am put through, the embarrassment and dehumanization and physical strain, is awful when I fly. To be blamed for it is worse. But the worst knowledge of all is that I am privileged. I am white. I am young enough to know how to complain on social media. I know my rights. I know to leave several hours in case I am mistreated. Like that old woman, like the women I saw walking to their gates, there are so many people who are not in that position. They will be victimized.

A manager approached me at CVG to apologize as I landed. No one will apologize to those women. They will be victimized. It’s not right how disabled people are treated at airports, and frankly, it’s not legal. But they know that our voices are not listened to and so they know that they can get away with it. Do you know how AA found me from my angry tweets? All they had to do was look at the DM history. I’ve sent them so many complaints over the years. They haven’t changed. They don’t care.

And as much as my body hurts after experiences like that, my heart hurts more. I’m so tired of people not caring.

I know this is a long post, but they messed so many things up that it had to be long to list them all. Please feel free to share this post -- or even better, let American Airlines know what you think about it. God knows they didn’t listen to me.

#this is a long post but they did a lot of things wrong!!!#ableism #disability #air travel #american airlines #long post #please this one is really important to me

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onceuponaloonatic · 4 years ago

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i feel so bad for not posting much because of school :( engineering really is rough :( anyway to attempt to make up for it, here’s a snippt of a samo draft of mine. keep in mind it’s pretty rough and at least two years old so i’m sorry it’s bad. i just wanted to post something and was like hey let’s post some samo content. also this isn’t nessicarly the beginning of the draft so if the timing and pacing seems weird i’m sorry. enjoy!

The cheers were ringing loudly in Momo’s ringing ears, sweat dripping down her back. Her heart was pounding rapidly and her legs were sore as she ran but she absolutely loved it. There was nothing like the adrenaline of a good game.

She smirked as she got the ball under her control. This was the best part. Make quick work of the left over defenders, line up the shot, and shoot. Her leg moved in a practiced motion as she aimed for the top left corner of the goal. She poured everything in her veins to her foot as it connected with the ball, launching it into the air. She held her breath, following the ball with her eyes. Excitement spiked within her as the ball flew past the goal keeper into the goal. She did it. Again.

A wide grin broke out on her face as her teammates wrapped her up in a huge hug and the crowd went absolutely wild. She lived for these moments.

Before she knew it, the ref was blowing his whistle and everyone was screaming. If she listened closely she could hear her name being chanted. She loved it. She was wrapped up in a huge team hug as the dangerously dark clouds started pouring rain. She didn’t care, she was too excited and too in the moment for anything to ruin it. She received hugs from her teammates and shook hands with the other team and finally she found her second favorite person on the universe waiting for her.

“Saki!” Momo grinned, opening her arms for a the little girl standing next to her coach. “Mama!” Saki ran forward and Momo lifted her, her legs still aching. “Mama Mama you won!” “That’s right princess,” Momo grinned, kissing Saki’s cheek. She could hear the tell tale signs of camera clicks and she knew she was going to be all over the sports news tomorrow but she didn’t care. She had her little girl in her arms and another victory under her belt. She felt invincible. If only her other half was here too.

Momo grinned at the thought of her wife. Victory meant sex and she had missed sex so much. Between her wife’s pregnancy hormones and her practice schedule Momo hadn’t been able to get lucky in weeks. She was craving sex so bad. She and Sana had made a deal a long time ago that every game won meant one round, and tournaments where they were separate were the best case scenario for Momo because when she got home she was allowed to chose whenever she wanted to cash her rounds in.

“Mama your the best,” Saki grinned. “Aren’t I Sak?” Momo kissed her baby’s cheeks again, having to avoid the team colors painted on her daughter’s face.

Momo and her teammates lingered on the field with Saki in her arms until they were all kicked out. Momo giggled with her teammates as they retreated into the locker room and she changed herself and Saki out of their matching soccer jerseys. Momo felt better to be in casual clothes, even if sweat and rain was still clinging to her skin. Saki was wide awake, excited for the team dinner they had planned.

“Have fun baby?” “It was super fun Mama,” Saki grinned, Momo pulling Saki’s shirt over her head.

“Can you go play with Auntie Seulgi while I call Mommy?” “Can you tell her I love her?” “Of course I will baby girl.” Momo grinned, kissing Saki’s cheek before waving over at her teammate who smiled and scooped the five year old up into her embrace. Momo pushed the door to the locker room open and found a secluded spot and quickly dialed her wife.

“Satang,” Momo cooed when the person on the other side picked up.

“Hi Momoring,” Sama muttered, her voice heavy with sleep. “How was the match?” “We won!” Momo smiled widely.

“That’s great! How’s Saki?” “She’s having the time of her life, we are going to dinner later and then resting for the next match.” Momo muttered. “How are things there? Is Mina driving you crazy?” “No, she’s just protective, she hasn’t let me touch anything.” Momo could hear a slight whine in her wife’s voice. “I’m pregnant not dying.” “Well you are seven months along, and we’ve had scares twice now, Mina is just doing what’s best for you.” “You don’t understand, she literally flips her shit whenever I get off the couch like I’m going to go into labor any second.” Momo could tell Sana rolled her eyes after her statement.

“Hm well if you want I can send her a threatening text.” “Mina’s not afraid of you,” Sana giggled. “I know, hey baby?” Momo sighed, changing the topic quickly.

“Hm?” Sana hummed sleep still heavy in her voice.

“I miss you.” “I miss you too.” Sana responded. “But the tournament is only another week, we’ll see each other soon.” “I know… I just… I love you a lot.” “I love you too you big nerd.” Sana muttered enduringly, followed by a low hiss.

“What’s wrong?” Momo asked panicked.

“Nothing, your child just kicked me, again.”

“She’s showing her love.” Momo smiled at the thought. “She can do it in a way that doesn’t involve literally kicking my insides.” Momo heard the sarcasm dripping from her wife’s tone. “Fuck she did it again, you little brat.” “She misses me,” Momo muttered. “You hear that baby girl Mama misses you too.” “Yeah yeah whatever Momo.” “Saki says she loves you.” Sana added.

“Tell her I love her too, and make sure she goes to bed sometime before the sun comes up.” “We’re great parents aren’t we?” “The best,” Sana responded. “Go have dinner with your friends, tomorrow is an off day right? I’ll face time you then okay?” “Okay,” Momo smiled. “I love you Satang.” Momo muttered in Japanese. “I love you too Momoring.” Sana responded in their native tongue. “Talk to you tomorrow?” “Talk to you tomorrow.” Momo grinned and pulled the phone away from her ear.

She practically skipped back to the locker room and collected her child before following the team to a celebratory dinner. She was offered multiple drinks, but she turned them down, instead opting for soda, going as far as letting Saki have her own soda with her kids meal. After dinner Saki basically crashed from being around so many people and sugar high and Momo tucked her into the hotel bed before going over to the bathroom and running a cold bath, getting some ice from the machine down the hall from her room and resting her sore muscles in an ice bath. She cursed herself at first, but once it set in she felt so much better. After drying off she climbed into bed with her five year old, who was cuddled with her favorite dog plushie Mr. Joonie Jr, named after her favorite Aunt’s stuffed dog. Momo nodded at how messy Saki was sleeping before giving her one more kiss and laying next to her, letting a wave of sleep wash over her.

The next morning, Saki woke her up with her dog plushie tucked under her left arm and her head on Momo’s chest. Momo woke up with a smile, her muscles aching, but significantly less than they should. She kissed Saki’s cheek before letting her pick out what she wanted for breakfast and ordering it for room service while her and Saki got ready for the day. After dressing Saki in a nice sundress (the weather was warmer than it should be in October but what did Momo expect from the US) and herself in a simple pair of ripped jeans and a tee shirt, they found their breakfast waiting for them at the door. Saki practically consumed her waffles, smiling at how much spoiling her Mama had been giving her on this trip. They then went to visit some monuments, Momo staying off her feet the most she could, she had a game tomorrow and she wasn’t about to ruin herself sightseeing. Saki had fun, and they had lunch at a nice seafood place before returning to their temporary home so they could call Sana. Their call was surprisingly short, Sana citing that she had some work to do on her laptop after letting the two rant about their trip.

After ending the call, Saki took a long nap while Momo figured out what they were going to do for dinner. She decided to have room service one more time, too lazy to go out again. They ate an early dinner and afterwards they went down to the hotel pool to mess around for a while before going back to their hotel and taking a bubble bath together. Saki fell asleep halfway through watching Moana and Momo fell asleep right after, being sure to set her alarm for the game tomorrow.

As she fell asleep, she had a bad feeling in her gut, but she couldn’t quite place what it was about.

Momo didn’t check her phone between morning practice and her pre game warm up. Saki had been extra tired and she had to take her back to the hotel to nap, leaving her bag in the locker room in their short break. After dressing Saki up in her little cheerleader outfit (adding a touch of zombie makeup because their game was on the day before Halloween and the team had coordinated this thing where Saki could go around asking them for candy because she wasn’t going to have time to go trick or treating tomorrow) she returned to the field to run their pre game warm up. She had a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, she hadn’t been able to call or text Sana all day and it made her feel terrible. But she tried to get it out of her head and focus on the game.

Kick off came and the other team was playing extremely aggressive and Momo didn’t like it. Her team was able to hold them off, but the other team didn’t make things easy. She was shoved and had a large bruise forming on her lower back from where she had been “accidentally kicked” and it only served to make her angry. By half time she was practically fuming, and the fact she hadn’t been able to talk to Sana wasn’t helping in the slightest.

Their coach had a rule about checking their phones during half time, he said it was too distracting and they needed to keep focused, but he made an exception just once for Momo, feeling sympathetic to her situation. Saki gave her a message to rely to Sana again, and Momo knew Saki wasn’t having fun watching her Mama get thrown around like a rag doll, at least, more than normal.

Momo jogged to the locked room and noticed she had a lot of missed calls from Sana. She went through them, noting a few from Mina too. It could be nothing, but Momo fear the worst. She called Sana first, and was surprised when Mina answered her wife’s phone.

“Minatozaki Hirai Momo!” Mina screamed once she answered. “What the hell is wrong with you?” “What is wrong with you why are you screaming at me?”

“Have you seen my texts?”

“No I’ve been extremely busy today.”

“So did you like not check your phone this morning?” “I had to get up at six am no.” “Bitch Sana’s water broke last night.” Momo’s heart speed up and it wasn’t because of her exhaustion from running for the past hour.

“Ha ha very funny-”

“I’m not kidding.” “What the fuck she’s not due until January, it’s October.” “I took her to the hospital last night, they said there’s nothing they can try she has to have the baby soon, and since she’s Sana she’s being stubborn and refusing to get a c section. She got an epidural at least, but she’s been in there for like nearly eighteen hours and the baby still hasn’t been born.” Mina sighed.

“Fuck fuck shit okay is she okay did the doctors say the baby is going to be okay?” “They said they can’t know for sure until she’s born, but looking at some preliminary ultrasounds she has a chance of being okay, her brain and heart are pretty much developed.” Mina sighed. “They said their biggest concern is size and her lungs.” “I’m in the middle of a game Mina…” Momo muttered, tears welling up in her eyes. “What do I do?” “Get your ass on the first plane over her Hirai.” Mina hissed. “Soccer is important but not missing the birth of your child important." “Y-Your right, I’ll go tell my coach, I’ll be there as quick as I can, keep me updated.” Momo whispered. “I will.” Mina responded before Momo hung up on her. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest and she felt like she was getting crushed with anxiety. She ran as quick as she could to her coach, knowing she looked crazy. “I need to go,” She told the man.

“Why?” “Sana’s in labor, I- fuck I need to go to her." “No Hirai,” Her coach looked her in the eyes. “We need to win this game or we’re out of the tournament, we’re in the semi finals and your our star player you can’t just leave." “I can’t miss the birth of my second child please.” Momo practically begged. “My decision is final Hirai, go drink some water and re tie your cleats and get back on the field.” “Please.” Momo dropped to her knees, tears clinging to the corner of her eyes.

“No,” The man hissed. “Go do your job Momo.” Momo wiped her tears and kicked the dirt hard before being sent onto the field. She put on a tough face, but in her mind she was freaking out.

Needless to say, she was unfocused for the rest of the match. Her mind was solely on her wife and nowhere near the crowded stadium. They ended up in a 1 to 1 draw, but they lost in the shoot out. It was their coach’s fault for expecting anything from Momo, she concluded. Once the match was over she grabbed Saki and her bag and practically sprinted out of the stadium, hailing a cab before Saki could even ask what was going on. She changed out of her cleats on the ride to the airport and didn’t even bother to change out of her uniform before sprinting to the hotel room and packing at light speed, paying the cab extra to wait downstairs. Saki watched confused as Momo dragged her downstairs, checking out of the hotel as fast as she could and back into the cab and straight to the airport and onto the first flight home she could get. Momo knew she was in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes but she was too panicked at the moment to do anything about it, staring at her phone every five seconds for updates. Once they boarded the place, Saki fell asleep on top of her and Sana begrudgingly turned her phone into airplane mode before take off, she hoped to god she didn’t miss anything during the flight.

Momo was too late. She was too fucking late and she hated herself. By the time she landed and got her and Saki in her car and on their way to the airport Mina had already texted long ago announcing the birth. Her texts stopped after, and Momo assumed the worst as she broke nearly every law getting to the hospital. She terrified the receptionist into telling her her wife’s room number before dragging her tired child to the room. She nearly cried when she found Sana sleeping with a tiny pink bundle beside her. She put Saki on the bed next to her mommy before looking at her new baby. She was asleep and connected to countless machines but she was breathing and Momo felt so relived.

“Momoring?” Momo was startled when she heard Sana’s sleepy voice. Momo turned to Sana with tears on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, I tried to leave sooner. My coach was being a jerk. I’m so sorry, I’m here now,” Momo put her hand on Sana’s cheek. “How did it go? Is she okay? Mina stopped texting me after she said she was born.” “Her umbilical cord was wrapped around her throat but the doctors were able to get it off before it caused any permanent damage, sorry for the scare.” Sana muttered sleepily. “She’s way too small and needs to spend time in an incubator, but she’s as healthy as a nine week early baby can be.”

“Oh thank god.” Momo sighed in relief. “I’m so sorry.” “I know you are.” Sana muttered. “And her birthday is today by the way, so where’s her gift huh Mama?” “It’s in my suitcase in the trunk.” Momo giggled at her wife. “I’ll get it later.” “I was joking.” “I know, but I still got her a gift from Seattle.” Momo kissed Sana’s forehead. “She’s beautiful.” “I know she is,” Sana smiled. “She was also a nearly twenty four hour labor.” “I’m sorry baby that sounds so rough.” Momo sighed. “Are you okay?” “I’m sore as hell.” Sana complained. “But besides that I’m fine.” “That’s good,” Momo kissed Sana’s forehead. “I wished I could have been here, I’m sure it was magical." “It was stressful, I hated it. I’m never doing it again.” “I know,” Momo kissed Sana’s forehead once more. “What’s her name?” “Haven’t named her yet. I was waiting for you.” “Sana,” Momo muttered with tears in her eyes. “Thank you.” “Yeah I know, but hurry up with her name you need to go finish her birth certificate.”

“I’m naming her?” “Yes I can’t come up with names.” “Okay, um, Nico?" “After your grandmother? Sounds good, go finish the paperwork before that pushy nurse comes back."

“I’m sorry again baby.” “I know you are, just know that I love you and I know this isn’t your fault.” Sana answered.

“I love you too.” Momo sobbed, looking at their precious angel. “Nico-ya,” Momo whispered to the baby. She felt both happy and a bit sad at the same time.

#drafts #i'm sorry #samo #twice #minatozaki sana #hirai momo

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