#this is based off the fact that calvin sometimes makes really good points out of nowhere | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

demwhore · 4 years ago

Text

summer (l.ty)

pairing┃boxer! lee taeyong and college student! OC ft. Doyoung, Mark, Johnny and Taeil + mention of Bang Chan and Namjoon genre | fluff, slight angst | boxer! au warnings | slow-burn, language, mention of ass ( i know taeyong has none but alright), lots of banter, physical injuries, mention of blood, violence, mention of steroid usage, making out in the boxing gym, too much plot but aight, smut (for those uncomfortable, the smut is placed at the very end; the note indicates mature content, read at your own risk ) subtle sub!-dom! themes, unprotected sex, fingering, eating out, penetration, biting, marking, creampie, edging it’s not really that dirty but it’s just passionate lovemaking word count | 25k

synopsis |

“If two people are meant to be together, they will eventually find their way back.”

Or in which, you are stranded in your university due to summer classes and you had a little reunion with your ex that you last saw two years ago.

a/n | this is part of @neo-cult-ure‘s summer collab! taglist | @cinanamon @jaesmintea @jungcity @seongghwaa @mjlkau @neoyoungho for helping me with proofreading. tags | @ethaeriyeol @yuta-nakitamoto @suhweo @neocity-sarai @jaeminsmainbitch @the32ndbeat @bumblebeenct @cloudynakamoto @solecize @moonlss @ceruleanskies @tzuqui @jungjeffr3y @neo-shitty @o-schist

muse | and this is based on the song summer by calvin harris, long flight by taeyong, call out my name, earned it by The Weeknd, pillowtalk by zayn, love me harder by ariana grande. there are literary quotes from The Notebook by nicholas sparks and The Great Gatsby by fitzgerald.

��The cows didn’t deserve this sight. You look like a moving potato sack.”

That one familiar voice, laced with precise mirthful nuance immediately stops you from your attempted zumba dances. Your head automatically snaps towards the door where he is currently leaning at. Even without looking, you could see the tugging of his lips that belonged to your one and only grumpy roommate and unfortunately best friend, Doyoung.

This is one of your routines, dancing carelessly in front of your open windows, to entertain the cows from the farm your dormitory is located at. They make such a great audience though, unlike the people from university.

People who? You don’t know her.

You lean over the table to shut down the speaker that blasts electronic music.

The morbid greetings are never new to you anymore. In fact these greeting exchanges are normal, and an inside joke no one will understand but you and him.

Doyoung looks like he recently woke up from his grave. With a sullen face and eye bags that are too dark, it stands out amongst his pallorness. Being a pol-sci student surely makes the stunning Kim Doyoung a disaster.

He enters your room with coffee in hand and plops himself comfortably on the blue plush seats you two had managed to haul at the local thrift shop. This is Kim Doyoung with his disheveled morning look—his curly hair and baggy sweatpants but hail thee heavens, he still looks majestic and it’s unfair. He gulps a mouthful of his morning coffee. At this point you have made the conclusion that coffee is what kicks him in the morning, if not, daily.

You gawk at the tall boy before you, bracing yourself for his never ending list of snarky remarks —about you, your ridiculous pajamas, the cows which you don’t understand either, college, his debates, how emotional the girls are in his department and it pisses him off, how capitalism sucks, do soulmate exists? And if yes, it’s bullshit and what not. Nevertheless, you do understand his points since both of you share a deep seated bond and a like for misanthropy. Despite his ear-splitting and sometimes provocative rants, it had never failed to boost you. Albeit you hate early morning scolds, Kim Doyoung and his banters are an exception.

“Potato who? I am an exceptional dancer.” You grin while whipping your hair dramatically.

On cue, Doyoung’s eyes roll heavenwards. What a dramatic king. “How is that even possible?”

You shrug. “They moo-ed at me longer than their usual moo-s. Look!” You point at the brown cow staring back at you while nibbling grass.

Doyoung didn’t bother to peek at your window. Instead, he shakes his head in dismay while sipping again on his black coffee. “You need to seek help, you’re unbelievable.”

“Me and the cows just have a deep-seated relationship and they are far more supportive than your grumpy ass.”

Doyoung didn’t answer you. He shifts again in his seat, his long legs folding in an uncomfortable angle. Doyoung winces as he settles his mug on the table just adjacent from the plush seat. He gives you a concerned look, “Anyways, enough with the cows. How is your major going? You look dead.”

“So are you.”

“I’m stunning, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Bickering with him will be a waste of a time.

It's 8:30 am and truth be told, you are not ready to go to your university especially when the impending torment awaits for your arrival.

Your lips tug upward, an acrimonious smile painting your lips. If there’s something you want to talk about early in the morning, it would rather be about politics, rabbits, anything but your college department. The attempt in pulling an all-nighter yesterday night isn’t enough to lessen the never ending stack of paperwork your professors are demanding and talking about it would just fuel up your frustrations. “If the team won’t cooperate in the defense,” you sigh. “Summer.”

In an instant, Doyoung’s lips tugs into a shit-eating grin. Those smiles that hold such malice that shouts ‘you’re a worst case’. Being the sinister human being he is, he didn’t waste this opportunity to throw you his judgement. “For what I know college students should never be… negligent.” He drags out those words slowly like reciting to a child, making sure you do understand what the hell he is talking about and giving full emphasis on the last word that he said.

You immediately retort back, defensive. “I am! I mean… I am not!”

“I am not saying you are… but your groupmates.”

“They are…”

His feline eyes are as dark as his hair while he studies you. He’s feigning fake enthusiasm while raising his brows up cockily. “Yeah?”

You inwardly let out a whine. “Yeah. Now. Shut up Kim Doyoung.”

He chuckles. “What? I’m not saying anything!”

You huff. “After all this crap, I will seriously go out for a vacation,” you pause. “And I won’t tag you in, bitch!”

He rolls his eyes, “How despicable.”

“Seriously though, I don’t want to spend my time in university, it’ll kill the remaining sanity left in me.”

Overly confident, you want to smack the shit out of him. He shrugs. “I know. Good thing I’m an ace.”

You roll your eyes and throw your plushie towards his direction. But the devil incarnate has the deities on his side because the pillow didn’t budge nor hit him at all.

“Excuse me, mister right. Sorry to pop your bubble but remember? Your professor is still frustrated at the bull crap you pulled.” Your lips immediately tugging upwards upon the memory of him blabbing out incoherently to you like a child, intoxicated with alcohol while flunking classes. All of it because he’s, according to him, an ace.

“And what was that you were yelling at the corridors?” You try and recall the song he keeps on yelling in the top of his lungs while the people are shooting him dirty looks, “Young, dumb, young, young, dumb and bro-oh-ke…”

You wheeze while clutching your stomach. Good thing he got a nice voice, but still it was embarrassing. As if on cue, the stressed-out, disheveled Kim Doyoung wipes his face dramatically in humiliation. You’re both entertainers in your own ways, but he makes himself really stand out without him even trying.

If Kim Doyoung’s life is a movie, you’d literally spend your dollars to watch him over and over again.

“How’s your horse?” And you burst into fits of laughter.

A distressed groan escapes Doyoung’s lips upon the memory. “Can you please not?”

You shake your head no, still laughing upon the memory. He glares in your direction, his hawk-like eyes staring back at you with such vexation.

It’s a mistake for him to actually choose to drink rather than preparing for a major presentation that he messed up with big time. While drunk, he answered his professor’s inquiry with, ‘I don’t have a thing for voyeurism though, my horse is not down for it’. His professor is too infuriated at his answer and his laid back attitude, she gave him a big fat 60% mark as payback. What a damn ace, truly, ace of all clowns.

“I just hoped the case study could help me. I didn’t know that the case presentation was worth 60% of my grade!”

“You should join a pageant sometime.”

“Fuck, no.”

“Well, you’re famous as well as your answer. Imagine the school paper desperate just to have your comment published?” You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

His suggestive answer spreads out in the university like wildfire. If you could remember the quote, “Attention Ladies! Doyoung is quite reserved as his ‘horse’ is quite shy”, no public canoodling!

Doyoung is so furious when he sees the whole article, that he wants to sue the journalism club for defamation. But they immediately bribe him with a percentage, because the profits were surprisingly high because he’s featured in. Kim Doyoung is quite popular unlike you. He is a Pol-Sci student, and that made him proactive about social issues that you sometimes wanted to shut him out. He never stops talking about capitalism. And not to mention his fanbase— he has the looks, brain even if he barely uses it, and part of a famous sorority house. High number of admirers are really expected.

He makes a face. That’s what you get when you enter one of your classes intoxicated with gin and bullshit. Yolo, Kim Doyoung.

“Stop laughing,” he scowls.

Doyoung clears his throat and diverts the subject, “Have you tallied the responses?”

“Oh, shit.” You shift yourself in your bed. A ballpen strikes your ass and a ruler snaps in half the moment you tried to move again in your spot.

You wince. “I told Regina about it, and guess what?”

“Spill.”

“She fucking forgot about the methodology. I’m going insane!”

You stand up and grab the print-outs of your unfinished research paper. Doyoung brings the cup to his lips while watching you scurry back and forth in your room. You leave your room, only to return once again to gape at your best friend. The lack of sleep is taking a toll on you early in the morning, and all you want to do is to wrap yourself in your fuzzy blankets and binge watching Netflix. After all, it’s exciting to watch with the academic deadlines chasing after every episode you attempt to watch.

Your best friend’s lips instantly curl upward and you register that the words he’ll be spatting out will slap the shit out of you “You still have to interpret the results, though.”

“Bloody hell.” You groan loudly.

He grins smugly. “I really hope you won’t bawl your eyes out, but you still have a big nut to crack open.”

You were about to retort back but something had hit you. Your face painting an aghast expression, you cussed again, “Oh shit, the math homework?”

“Bingo.” His smirk widens at your stressed out face. “And the deadline is today.”

Why do you still have maths in your course? It’s ridiculous.

Despite him being annoying at all times, you are still happy that Doyoung is at your side. He is a blessing in disguise. He somewhat remembers all the things you have mentioned to him like homeworks and other things and makes fun of you because you‘re such a fucking goner. Having the habit of doing something at the drop of a hat then to procrastinate and cram it all out like a madwoman.

You manage to get through this bad habit of yours when your ex helped you back in the day. But now that he’s gone, all your mannerisms are flooding in like crazy.

You heave a long sigh of frustration. “Why, why, the hell did I choose to watch Riverdale instead of doing my maths?”

You stare at his dark orbs dancing with pure amusement.

He shrugs at your outbursts. “I have been telling you. You’re too distracted.”

You, per contra, immediately run to your bed and grab the nearest paper lying on the end with a bold ‘biochemistry’ printed on the topmost part of the paper. You toss the paper to Doyoung’s direction and continued on doing the searching operation of your long-lost math homework.

Doyoung clicks his tongue, finding the scowl on your face entertaining. “I just saw that paper! Now I can’t see it!”

You stomp your feet in annoyance.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. He knows exactly where this will go. He counts.

Three. Two. One.

You wail. “Kim Doyoung! I cannot find it!”

“You should learn to search using your fucking eyes! Jesus Christ, you’re unbelievable,” he sighs, running his lithe hands through his raven locks. From the sound of his sigh, you know he’s tired of dealing with your constant bullshit.

“You have your eyes for a reason. For searching! Don’t use your mouth, Y/N,” he paused. Your homework is on the table.” Then he pointed at the coffee table.

“You’re lucky I’m being nice here. I’d rather hide that paper from you and watch you fail because you just lost a fucking piece of paper.”

You grimace, “You’re one hell of --”

You see how Doyoung’s face morphed in a whole 180 turn before the blink of your eye. From being calm to sinister. He mumbles, his tone so deep and malign. But you can hear him, “If you continue on. I will never, ever, help you with your essays. Carry on your GPA.”

What a hypocritical bitch.

Doyoung exactly knows how and where to push your buttons.

A whirlpool of emotions washes over you, and panic is the main cherry on top. It’s been an unspoken rule among both of you, that if ever who’s at rock bottom, the other half shall lift the rock no matter how heavy it is. And unfortunately, you're the rock and Doyoung has been helping you all through this time to somehow pass and manage your assignments. He’s been complaining how he is suffering from back pain due to carrying you all over the place.

You huff, clenching your fist to control the forming irritation in your gut, “For the sake of my peace, I wanna punch you. But yes, thank you, bitch.”

He mimics you, “Welcome bitch.”

Approaching his seat, you plop yourself comfortably on the floor. “Now how do I do this?”

Doyoung tilts his head to the side to cast a greater view of your paper and his face immediately scrunches. “Mean and deviation? I have taught you how to get them, right?”

You groan out. “I forgot.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Of course you forgot about it,” he curls his lips to a frown. “But remembering handsome boys, you ain’t slick… wait… what’s my name again?”

“Gross.”

He snatches the paper from your hold with a scowl and begins scribbling the answers. He mumbles loud enough for you to hear, “You weren’t like this when he was here. You’re too distracted.”

You frown upon the mention of your ex. Doyoung is right, you suck up big time when your ex left you to pursue his career.

Doyoung hands the paper back to you. Glancing at your homework, he had answered the first two numbers and the rest were blank. Your mouth presses into a thin line while attempting to answer the rest, following the solutions and steps of Doyoung from above.

He lifts the mug to his lips and gulps the remaining coffee. A vibration from his pocket catches his attention. Doyoung fishes for his mobile phone and his eyes almost bulge out upon the text he just received. The screen illuminates his slender face.

[from TY Track] [9:15] I’m coming home from Busan. See you at your university. How’s Alpha chi Omega? I missed them as well.

Glancing from your peripheral vision; you know he must’ve received some dirty text again with the way his eyes bulge out of his sockets and a faint blush of pink that has been kissing his cheeks. You were not sure from whom though but it could be from the lists of girls in your mind that you’ve once texted out to ‘fuck off’ as per Kim Doyoung.

It happens daily and you are somewhat forced to answer them back because he’s been begging you to get rid of them. His ways of swatting the girls are really insurmountable. There is this time you thought he’s sending in dick pic (you almost threw a victory dance) but in reality he was just sending a picture of his beautiful middle finger followed by blocking or sometimes a ‘get lost, I don’t like you’.

You grin at the thought of Doyoung dirty texting but it’s borderline impossible. The amount of suitors is surprisingly high for a grumpy Kim Doyoung but he dismisses them all. You don’t know why he doesn’t open up opportunities for commitment, but it isn’t your business to mess with. After all, you couldn't blame them, his whole frat boy demeanor is really a lovely sight to look at.

His mouth opens then closes followed by his eyes widening like he couldn’t believe the sight at his screen. You let out an airy chuckle while computing for the mean. “You got yourself a fubu? Shall we call in Alpha chi Omega and celebrate?”

His brows automatically furrow while hiding his phone away from your sight, in defense. Your conclusions forming like endless swirls in your mind at the sight of him being so, aloof. You shoot out a grin.

“What the fuck? No!”

Your brows automatically shoot upward and you raise your hands still grinning widely. “Woah, chill, lover boy.”

Never in Doyoung’s life he plays cupid, because he thinks love is ridiculous. But he might as well play one for the sake of two broken hearts still yearning for each other. Doyoung knows he’s still not over you and you are still thinking about him even if you don’t admit.

[doie] [9:26] See you hyung. I will show you around.

Two months and two weeks prior to Taeyong’s homecoming.

Ragged breaths resonate around the boxing circle. The crowd is expectant, holding in their breath while watching the neck to neck fight.

Chan is lying on the floor, his chest rising heavily with every breath he takes. His coach is yelling profanities from the farthest corner, urging him to get his ass up and fight. He hears the muffled rambunctious screaming of the crowd and the loud EDM music blaring inside the gymnasium followed by the irritating ringing in his ears.

With Taeyong’s strike on his right ear, his balance fucks up and he can’t bring himself on his feet. Chan’s eyesight is getting worse, seeing occasional stars here and there. If it wasn’t for the gym’s blinding spotlight and camera flashes, he would really think that he got blind. Despite the large ring they are currently in, the atmosphere feels heavy, thick, and choking. The place stinks of cigarettes, sweat and blood. The floors were slightly wet with their perspiration. There’s overall tension, but violence is above it all.

Taeyong wipes the blood that spluttered from his mouth from Chan’s jab. He runs towards the corner where his team is at. Taeil immediately scrambles to his feet to get inside the ring to wipe off his sweat. Taeyong feels extreme exhaustion while staring back at Taeil under hooded eyes. He is running a tongue over his mouthpiece and rests his head on the ring’s metal post.

The referee enters the ring with a mic in hand then approaches the younger boxer. The referee pounds his fist onto the white mat, yelling numbers, “One!”

A pause. Then there is another pound. This time with much more force than the previous pound. “Two!”

Chan’s eyes flicker open at the countdown. His bruised eyes widening at the sound of his coach’s constant fire of profanities. Get up Bang Chan! Get the hell up! And so he did. Before the referee could shout the last number, three, Chan slightly jerks his shoulder, lifting his gloved hands then he tilts his torso to his right, raising up to his toes completely. Chan wobbles slightly while setting his posture up in full defense mode.

The referee makes a dash, excluding himself from the ring. Taeyong walks towards the center, his stance is set with his gloved hand raised up for defense. Chan’s appearance is rough. With blood covering most of his torso, there are occasional hues of yellow, purple and blue lingering on the younger boxer’s cheeks and eyes, one of his eyebrows split open blood pooling down mixing with his sweat, his plump lips is swollen and busted as if he had been stung by a bee.

Taeyong approaches the opponent carefully. Defense still high and not breaking eye contact. He knows how jumbled Chan is. Continuing on pushing himself further will just cause him harm— both mentally and physically. Due to Chan’s swollen right eye he can’t see Taeyong clearly. Throwing out jabs clumsily.

After contemplating for a few, Chan throws a counterpunch but Taeyong is quick enough to throw a combination that interrupts the younger mid-way. Chan musters his remaining strength to launch out a strike but Taeyong immediately dodges and springs forward to throw a blow on his jaw.

Chan can see spirals swimming in his vision that made him pause. With a disarranged mind, all he could do was to clinch on his opponent’s shoulder, breathing hard, bodies colliding with each other. The referee immediately steps in, breaking them apart. The crowd roars with both enthusiasm and dismay.

Taeyong made the final move, shooting his last blow on Chan’s stomach that made the young boxer fall with a loud thud. The crowd erupts with extreme exhilaration.

The emcee’s voice booms through the gymnasium’s speakers.

“Ladies and Gentlemen after twelve rounds of action we go to the scorecards. We have a unanimous decision in favor of the winner none other than boxing’s pride of Seoul, Lee Taeyong! The one and only, current WBA welterweight champion of the world! Lee ‘Kingpin’ Taeyong!”

Taeyong approaches Chan’s figure at the other side of the ring and gives him his warmest regards. Taeyong watches the intimate moment shared between the Aussie and his significant other. As sweet folks say, loving kisses can wipe out exhaustion. Touché.

Taeyong is sure that the younger boxer has potential and could make his boxing career stretch far with an obtained score of 116. Taeyong is in Chan’s situation once, losing then going home with a fucked up face. Everything is consuming— especially in boxing. Fatigue, face, dignity— but it is all about the commitment. It took Taeyong several eyebrow cuts just to achieve his current position. Before he was well-known as the Kingpin, he was once a loser. With high pressure, diamonds are formed.

Victory is so sweet. Yet the Kingpin still feels empty. He misses those moments when he was still a nobody; someone will run inside the gym just to pepper him kisses and him dodging cause he’s all sweaty. Or the steamy make out sessions usually in his Mustang after every class. The late night sex in his room. He wants to turn back time, he missed experiencing it all, everything. It hurts for him to admit but he missed someone that is dear to him. Someone that is his life. Those memories cease the moment he decided to choose this career, boxing. He thought, was it worth it? Is selecting boxing really did give him the utmost happiness? Was it worth exchanging you for this career? After his several attempts of questioning himself, Taeyong couldn’t still answer whether all of this makes him happy or it’s just complete bullshit.

His team jumps in the ring full of excitement. Taeil is showing him an ear to ear grin while wiping off his face. Taeyong winces as Taeil is too overwhelmed, vigorously wiping over his cuts. “Hyung, I’m not a car, stop wiping my face like a wiper.”

Taeil giggles. “Oh. Sorry.”

His manager approaches him, sliding the heavyweight gold belt over his shoulder. The manager leans over to whisper a strong ‘congratulations’. Taeyong nods back, unable to contain his glee. He grins at the crowd and pumps his fist in the air. The crowd are screaming for his name and his victory.

All hail, Kingpin.

“Taeyong.”

Taeyong’s eyes flicker shut. It’s only been five minutes since Taeyong submerged in the cylinder shaped chamber full of ice, but for him it feels like forever. The water stings and the cold is there, but it eats away the soreness nevertheless. Taeyong grits his teeth, fucking five minutes feels like eternity. He tries to divert his attention to anything but the stopwatch clipped on the cylinder’s edge.

A voice calls him again. Taeil. “Taeyong.”

The boxer breathes. “Yes. Hold on.”

The timer beeps. Taeil approaches the cylinder bath to snatch the beeping device.

Taeyong rises to his full height with the water swaying after him and the ice floating around the bath. Taeyong grips the edge and jumps out.

Taeil approaches him with a towel in hand. The boxer grabs the fluffy fabric and wraps it around his bare torso still shivering from the aftermath of his post-match routine. The soreness from the fight subdues. Taeyong holds the fabric to his head to towel dry his silver locks.

Taeil begins, “There’s something the manager will tell you.”

Taeyong shoots out a look towards him, his face immediately contorting into confusion. “About what?”

Taeil shrugs. He plops down to the bench and drops the athletic bag. The steel bench creaks as he rummages through the bag and throws a pair of boxers, sweatpants and a black tank top towards Taeyong.

The boxer grunts, snatching the clothes mid-air with his right hand. “Geez. You could’ve handed it to me, hyung.”

Taeil faces him and settles the bag. A tired sigh escapes his lips. “I’m not in favor of what he’s gonna say to you.”

Taeyong’s brow furrows. “Why? Wait, what is it about?”

Taeil leans back on the wall and closes his eyes for a moment. “You’re familiar with the gung-ho McGregor aren’t you?”

Taeyong’s eyes narrow as he tries to recall the familiar name. Damn, Chan’s smack must’ve shaken his brain. “The suspended boxer?”

Taeil nods and crosses his arms. “He’s actually back and wants to hold a match with you.”

Taeyong fidgets on his spot awkwardly. Water droplets drip down his chest. It’s fucking cold. For heaven’s sake he’s just in his black boxers.

“Can I change first?”

Taeil shakes his head and holds a finger to shut him out. “This is an important matter, kid.”

Taeyong scowls. “It’s fucking cold!”

He stops bickering back upon the sight of Taeil’s glare. Taeyong sighs, “We rejected them, right?”

“Yes. But backstage, Alexis’s manager opened up the matter to the manager again.”

Taeyong’s brows knot. “I just got into a fight. Can you talk it out with the manager?”

Taeil grimaces. “You know how my words don’t have an effect on him.”

Taeil continues on, “Besides, you are never the alibi type. If there’s a fight, you fight. That is how they know you. So it won’t work, unless you got pregnant? But that’s borderline fucking impossible.”

Taeyong didn’t argue back since Taeil has a point. Alibis are not really favorable especially in the world of boxing, unless you’re at death's door.

Taeil continues. “McGregor’s team promised a percentage if you let him win.”

“What the fuck?” Absolutely never.

A knock disrupts the two. Taeil straightens himself while Taeyong readjusts the towel resting on his hair.

Manager Oh enters the room. The two male cannot read the gloomy look on the manager’s face as the atmosphere is quite tense.

The manager gulps and begins to speak. “I reckon Taeil has told you about the matter,” the manager pauses. “We’ll accept the deal. The fight will be pushed through.”

Taeyong’s ears piques as he begins to feel annoyed. “Without consulting me? If it wasn’t for Taeil hyung, I wouldn’t know.”

Manager Oh breaths. “They promised to sponsor everything for your UBT.” He halts again, trying to select the right words to cajole the boxer. “That’s your goal, right?”

The Universal Boxing Tournament is something elite, big, and wild. It isn’t just Taeyong’s goal but every boxer. The payments in the matches are double the fee he usually receives. Although the chance of fighting in the big event is at Taeyong’s palm, it left him in a state of deep conflict. He’s done being the sparring partner— or a punching bag of someone else. He’d establish himself and the idea of stooping down just for the benefit of others greatly dismays him.

Taeyong strokes his nape. “It is one of my goals— dream, even. But I’m not sure, manager. I’m done being a punching bag.”

Manager Oh rubs his eyes. “I know…it’s just that McGregor is coming back and having a match with you could guarantee popularity for him.”

Taeil shakes his head in dismay but he never utters a word.

The boxer is still unconvinced.

The manager sighs. “He’s cleared of steroid usage.”

Taeyong squints. “What if he does it again pre-match? Then that cancels the match, what about the UBT spot they’ve promised?”

“You don’t have to worry about that… we have a written contract.”

Taeil shakes his head in disappointment. This rash decision of the team is what they'll be regretting later especially when an informal agreement is raised up. It won’t guarantee a spot to a big fight that easily. It’s like chasing dust.

Taeyong inquires further. “When is this?”

“Next month. We'll grind to prepare you.”

Taeyong knows how sicko McGregor can be in the ring. He has seen some clips of his matches. But if it means being in UBT, he’ll go. “Alright.”

The manager stands up, brushing his pants. “We’ll move locations. I have a gym near the University you graduated from.”

The kingpin will return to the place where he started from rock bottom. It suddenly fills him with nostalgia. His two managers left the room for him to do his thing. Taeyong quickly grabs his phone and texted Doyoung, notifying him of his upcoming arrival.

[Compose Message to: doie] [9:15] I’m coming home from Busan. See you at your university. How’s Alpha chi Omega? I missed them as well.

His phone screen illuminates his striking face as he waits for a reply. Taeyong settles his phone down on the counter to ruffle his hair but Doyoung already responded. His phone vibrates.

[doie] [9:26] See you hyung. I will show you around. The boys (and someone xD) will surely be glad to see you. Aja!

Taeyong grins. He’s excited to go home as well. A thought lingers on his mind, who’s the ‘someone’ Doyoung is referring to?

The sun is ebbing its way to daylight. It is the day of your defense or as Doyoung calls it doomsday or the Purge. Doyoung left you instructions on how to answer the panel smoothly without having the impression that you’re clueless.

He never spoon feeds you rather letting you do everything on your own. For this defense, he told you to shut up and not blab anything unless asked. And he adds, ‘answer straight to the point and don’t fucking sugarcoat’. Professors grill students until you could no longer retaliate, they are spawns of satan and you are so sure of that.

This defense is the most stressful thing you encounter in your whole college life. An abomination, breaking people apart. Recitations are an exception though as you could always adlib like the stunt Doyoung pulled in his major classes.

The moment you set foot on the university grounds, you hear the cacophony of deafening alarm bells, signalling the students of the start of the first period. You sigh. Despite having to practice the day before (and practically being scolded and grilled by Doyoung), you still can’t calm your nerves. Your face immediately scrunches at the thought of summer classes.

The sun is shining through the large oval in your university. Beads of sweat glistening on your forehead. Swarm of boisterous students walked side by side. talking about the same exact thing that has been swimming in your mind lately-- summer. Alas, the whole semester of dread is coming to an end and you cannot longer wait to wear the pink leotard Doyoung jokingly bought you for your birthday. You head straight north passing by the department of physical education. You see the soccer players, in their mighty, flashy maroon uniforms, running over the field. You immediately recognize the familiar figure of Johnny and the way the curvature of his ass sticks out of his shorts. Not that you really enjoy ogling at his ass though but it ain’t just another ass. It's Johnny Seo’s ass, popular, might as well stare at the divine sight before he charges everyone for it. You know of the big guy since you’re living in a small world, he’s friends with your best friend and a good pal of your ex boyfriend. Everything around you will always connect with either Doyoung or your ex.

Johnny has a reputation like Doyoung though. But unlike your best friend being known as a snob, Johnny is known for his massive dick and palpable cockiness in bed. He senses your stare and cranes his neck around to face you. His teammates behind him huddle together to ogle at the female their captain is looking at. He smiles at your direction then waves at you enthusiastically from the field. Lips curl into a smile while giving him a wave. You hear rambunctious woos and boyish whistles from behind when you continue on walking towards your building. Boys.

The familiar mint green building is now in sight. You hug the folders close to your chest like it’s your armor while taking a sharp turn. It leads you down to the right wing but as soon as you are about to enter, a large signage of ‘use the main door’ blocks your way. Your annoyance reaches its peak level while shooting daggers at the locked door. You contemplate, if you were to make a dash for the main door that is a meter away from here, you’ll be late for the first period. And professors always makes the tardy students sing in front and never in your fucking life will do that.

A shout startles you in your place. “Son of a bitch!”

“What the hell are you doing there? Go to your room, dumbass.” Talking about the smart shit that just arrives with his sharp voice lacing with its usual deep suave and timbre that pierces your eardrums early in the morning. His building is just right beside yours. So whether you like it or not, Doyoung will be in sight to annoy the shit out of you like he usually does.

You turn to him. Going to the canteen to eat is tempting but the thought of disappointing Kim Doyoung and his efforts going to waste bites you off. “I’m nervous.”

The female students are eyeing both of you— most are stinky glares from his fangirls. You take a sharp breath and hoist up the strap of your bag properly.

“Just remember what I’ve told you. And don’t abash yourself.” He ruffles your locks and you immediately swat his arm away. The squeals of the girls from behind obliterates both of your gossamer thin patience and remaining one brain cell. Needless to say, you walk up the pathway towards the main door of your building.

The thick choking atmosphere welcomes you. The happy color of mint green from its interior doesn’t conceal the melancholy of the people inside. You hear an upcoming call of your name, but you couldn’t apprehend it clearly because of the continuous murmurs in the hallway. “Y/N!”

You let out a groan of abhorrence as you whip your body around upon the call. But there isn’t a familiar face to chit chat with so you proceed forward but the wind knocked out of your lungs when you were suddenly yanked from behind.

You are about to throw profanities when Dia’s face comes to view greeting you sweetly, “Hi, Y/N!”

You attempt to smile but it looks like you’re suffering with constipation with all your teeth gritted together, “Hey!”

Dia begins. “I can’t wait for the sem to end!” She beams enthusiastically while clinging onto your arms. You struggle to climb the stairs with her hips hitting you sideways.

“Me too.” You exhale while gathering your thoughts. Your minds a mess with the conclusion, summer outfit and the swarm of murmurs of the students in the stairwell. “I plan on getting a tan though or skinny dripping, I don’t know.”

“Oh my! Yes!” she laughs while tugging her lips out almost lost in thought. “Alpha chi Omega is actually planning on a homecoming party.” She smiles cheekily that is way familiar for you. You immediately grin at her being such a saccharine babe.

You raise your brows. “Who’s coming home?”

She shrugs. “I dunno.”

You frown while lost in thought . “Then how did you know about it?”

Dia waggles her eyebrows, a mischievous glint lighting in her eyes. “Of course. I keep tabs on the packing king, Johnny Seo.”

You grimace. “Huh? Packing? Where is Johnny going? I thought it’s a homecoming?”

Dia rolls her eyes heavenwards. You are being so impossible. “Packing as in walking around with a huge dick. My god, are you from the 90s?”

“I’m not. I just don’t go around ogling at... what you call him? Packing Prince.” You make a puking face.

Dia laughs while you mumble under your breath, “You are unbelievable.”

She clicks her tongue and leans in while shushing the words near your year, “I’m not though… hey you wanna know what’s unbelievable?”

It piques your attention, “What?”

“Johnny has the bomb-est ass ever. Like a hundred over ten, would recommend.”

You retreat back and scowl. She laughs at your impending disappointment. But she’s right though, in fact you saw a sight of Johnny’s ass early in the morning. Bomb it is. You shake your head, but a smile is tugging your lips upright, “Whatever you say so.”

Dia is still laughing, spreading positivity in the already sullen hallway in the ground floor. It didn’t last long as you both part ways upon the sight of room 402. You huff, trying to recollect your breath. Stairways will be the cause of your death. Your classmates are either feigning optimism or just dead tired. A voice booms out, alerting the class. You glance and see the person behind the said misery.

“Groups one, kindly present in front. Get ready groups three and five. Say hi to the panel of judges.”

“What in the fucking world?”

“You should have seen it coming.”

“The biggest bugbear of my life is spending summer in university instead of the beach!”

Doyoung gives you a nonchalant look. He immediately pays a visit to your building upon hearing your never-ending cusses at the call a while ago. He stands by the door of your room while his arms are crossed.

He begins, “At least you’re alive, though.”

Doyoung’s lips curling into a mischievous smirk. He cannot hide the fact that he’s impressed that you didn’t undergo a breakdown unlike your classmates and your control towards unyielding resilience.

“I’m not close to being alive. I am deteriorating!” You groan making sure to imbue your tone to complete sarcasm. You thought that the research defense is the endpoint of the semester, but it wasn’t since the professors have something bigger to offer-- more diabolical. The dean of your college disseminates the mandatory summer classes on all year levels to avoid the crashing of major subjects with organization stuff and to somehow lessen the unit overload. The idea is beneficial albeit disheartening especially for those students who already had plans for the summer like you. What a sweet summer in the university. You shoot him out a look, “How are you alive? Despite all of this?”

“Heavy workload and org stuff is the thing that haunts every student. My professor has consulted me about this matter beforehand,” he grabs his phone and glances at it. His chinky eyes widen and he clears his throat. “We’ll be pushing the brave run next sem.”

“Is that the annual event of your sorority that you’ll be running around in the campus, naked?”

Doyoung hisses. “Shut up. It should be kept a secret,” he shrugs. “But, yes.”

Another fact why his sorority is famous among the female students of the university. The brave run is an annual event held by his sorority, which symbolizes "a selfless offering of one's self to the people of the country.’ Running around naked with a mask to conceal their identities. And it’s going to be Doyoung’s first run. He fidgets in his spot while looking at you then at his phone. You cast him a doubtful look, “Do you need some privacy or whatever?”

He looks straight from your shoulder. “No, no. Stay put.”

“I wanna sit. I was standing for hours in front a while ago.”

Doyoung presses his lips in a thin line. He lamely mutters. “I will show you something.” He keeps on fidgeting in his place while glancing sideways. It deeply concerns you because he’ll look at his phone then will grin afterwards. Doyoung never grins. What in the world?

He certainly knows something that you’re completely oblivious about. His phone buzzes again.

[from TY Track] [1:15] I thought your building is white one? How come you’re in a green one? You have a girlfriend from the nursing department don’t you? Ayeeeeeeeee. [1:19] im at the third floor lobby,, where are you?? I’m starving!!

Doyoung is on the fourth floor. Currently playing cupid.

He gives you a look with a shit-eating grin lingering on his slender face. Not that he looks unpleasant to the eyes since he’s far away from it but rather handsome. But it greatly aggravates you because since that one message he received this morning, he just won’t knock it off with the annoying grin of his. You really need to know who the hell is responsible for his change of demeanor.

Doyoung is the most misanthropic person you know and he always frowns. Unless he’s with his male friends or with you. Let he’ll freeze first then you’ll see him smile to his ears. He holds a finger near your face, “Wait here.”

You swat his wrist away but before you could knock him off, he’s already marching down the hall.

“Kim Doyoung! Wait!”

You let out an exasperated sigh while playing with your lace to kill out boredom. Dia whistles to capture your attention. You return back inside your room to fix your things and to entertain the sulky Dia. She pouts, “I’m seriously starving! Let’s go to def!”

Def is the university’s cafeteria where both you and the guy who made your heart pound, met.

“Okay hold on. Let me sign the attendance sheet for a while.” You approach the class secretary seated in front. Your back is against the door and a familiar figure looms near the door frame—looking lost.

You’re playing in a full deck. Unaware of the guy who’s once your life, standing behind you.

Taeyong and his team leaves Busan early at four in the morning with the yellow and pink hue of the sky slowly creeping along its way eating out the velvety dark skies. Taeyong drags his feet heavily against the grey pavement with his athletic bag hoisted on his shoulders. The early morning wind gives a chill blow that prickles the skin of the boxer.

Taeil is walking behind him with his daily black coffee in hand and face sullen due to drowsiness. The team is moving at a fast pace and occasional long sighs are heard. Taeyong gawks at the team moving dumbbells, mats, gloves and belts in their black van.

“Does your sorority know you’re coming home?”

Taeyong stares at his manager. His lips tugging upwards. “Yes. I’ve texted one of my friends and suddenly they’re throwing a homecoming party for me.” Taeyong’s chest vibrates with laughter.

Taeil’s lips tugs upward in mischief as he knocks the hood of the van breaking the deafening silence of the early morning. The team immediately scramble inside the van like ants fighting off with seats, dirty banters and shades being thrown against each other.

“I’ll sit here!” “It’s cold in that spot, I didn’t take a bath!” Another spits. “The handsomest is gonna seat beside the Kingpin.” Another voice holler. “Oi. Oi. No!”

The manager let out a tired sigh while adjusting the shoulder bag on his right shoulder. He reaches for his back pocket and wipes the droplets of sweats on his temple. “Let’s go, before these guys kill themselves.”

He calls out with a stern tone rolling out of his tongue it immediately calms the chaotic boys, sheepishly fixing themselves while uttering incoherent apologies. They begin filling up with the manager taking the empty spot beside the driver’s seat. The rest scatter themselves on the spots they deem as comfortable.

Taeil shoots Taeyong a knowing look and juts his head towards the empty seat beside him near the driver’s seat. Taeil reclines his back on the leathered seats and heaves a long tired sigh. “It’s good to be back. I wish they were preparing roses for your comeback. It felt like Disney, like for shits really.”

Taeyong grins. “Doyoung and Johnny told me about it. Alpha is scrambling like ants.”

Taeil’s voice lowers for a second. His thoughts are swimming in an endless swirl of abyss. “Fighting with McGregor could cause you collateral damage.”

The boxer rests his hand on his nape and closes his eyes for a moment. He knows. He whispers, “I know. May the odds play with my side.”

“This is not about the odds now, he could destroy you, I’m serious!” Taeil scoffs while scanning the view of the early and still asleep city of Busan. “Namjoon fought with him once, and the boy went home with broken ribs and hand fractures,” he trails. “It’s still early to back out. I’m really worried.”

“I am already destroyed, hyung. Ever since I chose this over engineering and leaving like I could really live through all of this…”

“Hyung, if I back out… all of these would just be a whole damned joke.”

“Please…don’t take McGregor easily.”

Taeyong attempts to dismiss the growing anxiety in his chest. One step at a time. One punch at a time, one round at a time. He sets a self mantra. “I won’t.”

The heavy traffic greets them the moment they make their way to the city arriving exactly at twelve. Upon arrival, the team immediately unloads their baggage on the gym’s connected apartment while the manager nurses several calls about the match with the upcoming weigh in, face off, and budgets.

Taeyong glances at the gym’s interior. It's a rundown one with a large ring in the center, barbell and dumbbells on the floor and a large mirror from across where he is standing. The lights flicker above him, casting a warm glow of yellow on his face. Taeil squeezes his shoulder, surprised at how he’s so rigid. Taeil begins, “Johnny gave me a call and he said that you should get your flat ass in the university.”

Taeyong throws his head back, mortified. “What? Okay, fat ass.”

Taeil rolls his eyes. “My ass is bomb.”

Taeyong raises his brows. “Squatting?”

“Yeah. Every night, wanna see?”

“I have my own ass.”

“Yeah…a flat one, unfortunately.”

Taeyong grimaces. “My ass is ‘bomb’ too.”

“Keep on dreaming flat ass.”

“Don’t be rude!”

The familiar name of the university greets Taeyong the moment he arrives. Doyoung notifies him of his whereabouts; in the medical department. Taeyong furrows his brows, just when did Doyoung shift his course? He said he’d die being a polsci student.

Taeyong carries himself towards the familiar sidewalk of this university where he graduated highschool and was supposed to study engineering at.

However his fate makes a whole turn when he’s casted by an agent when he’s buying bread from the downtown pancake house. And it all just happens just like that, him leaving all of a sudden, ending everything at his loved one’s disposal.

His boxer facade falters as soon as he steps foot on the familiar grounds. With him here, he isn’t the Kingpin rather just the ordinary Lee Taeyong. He moves agilely, a thing he learned in boxing. His skin shimmers under the hot glimmering sun with his perspiration glistening against his forearms. Taeyong’s doe eyes scans the tall college buildings, looking precisely for a ‘tall building that is colored green with a bunch of people wearing white uniforms’ as per Kim Doyoung.

A thought erupts in him, it’s been years since his last visit here. Everything before his eyes is entirely unknown for him. He spends a good minute searching for the building while running a hand over his silver locks that are haphazardly tousled in different directions.

He ignores the flirtatious call of the students. The girls let out exhilarating squeals when he asks about the building and points behind him. Just as he’s about to go, someone yanks his arm dragging him away towards the opposite direction that planted a frown upon his face. He tries to dismiss them as kindly as he could when he sees that there is no way that they’ll be letting him go especially when he looks like a hot mess.

There’s actually no use in flirting anymore as he’s still emotionally invested for one girl that is you.

His eyes trail over the unfamiliar building and contemplate for a good minute before entering. The aura of the place elicits the same vibe in the boxing gym of his manager, bright by nature but something elicits off-ness more on sombre.

His long legs easily climb the series of stairs until he reaches level three and glances around the place. Searching for the familiar figure of Kim Doyoung but he finds nothing even a silhouette of the boy. He fishes out for his phone to send him a text, the mobile vibrating after his taps.

[from doie] [1:17] we’ll eat later!!!1 i need to show you someone oops something11!! :D [1:18] i'm coming!!! hold on!! Waaait

Taeyong hears rapid footsteps then a high pitch call of his name. A sudden tackle takes him by surprise. “I missed you, hyung!”

Doyoung holds him at shoulder, his eyes examining his whole body. “You've grown so well and— damn.”

The boxer standing before him is drastically different from the person he last saw two years ago. He’s not as fit rather skinny but the way he puts it now he’s got a massive glow up that takes him by surprise. With Taeyong by growing inches, his skinny fit that is now lean that is packed with muscles due to the strenuous training he’s put into and the eye catching tattoos that're lingering on his arms. He smirks at the sight of your familiar face minimalistically tattooed on his forearm.

He inwardly chuckles. Fools.

Doyoung didn’t waste the fraction of his time and drags a protesting Taeyong all the way at level four. Taeyong throws a questionable look, “What are we here for? Is Donghyuck in Nursing? Wait… are we here for him?”

“You’ll see… and no, let the moon be green first then we’ll see him here.”

“Oh.”

A chill runs down Taeyong’s spine. The heavy traffic they went through made him thirsty to the bone—now he wanted to drain his bladder. He calls out while eyeing the figure ahead of him, “Doyoung?”

Doyoung answers him with a shit-eating grin that made Taeyong think to himself. Is Doyoung in love at the moment? “Yeah?”

“I need to pee. The traffic sucks, I had to drink to keep myself entertained.”

He hums, not processing every word Taeyong says. He calculates everything in his disposal. From his distance, he can see your back facing the door where he’ll lead Taeyong into. Thus, hitting two lovefools.

“Fancy. Go over to that room.” Taeyong glances at the room Doyoung is pointing at. He didn’t question the boy further because his bladder is asking for a fucking break. He slowly approaches the room while lost in his thoughts. He leans on the doorframe and asks where the lavatory is. Then, immediately jogs down the corridor without a word.

Doyoung stands there, expectant and all smiley. Until he sees a different face entertaining Taeyong and your figure marching away with your friend, Dia. Doyoung attempts to call for your attention but you’re already out of earshot. He clicks his tongue in irritation. Cupid fails.

You sluggishly drag your feet inside your room. Doyoung is nowhere to be found until you hear muffled singing so you reckon he’s in the shower doing his thing. You press your lips into a thin line while casting a look around your ransacked room that has been untouched for months. It may be the course of adrenaline pushing and so you cleaned.

Doyoung walks around the shared place without a top that isn’t a sight that makes you utterly surprised anymore. You both share collective memories together, all deep and humiliation. So seeing him in his boxers early in the morning isn’t disturbing anymore. You do though, when he smiles.

Doyoung squints, eyeing your figure going from one part of your room to another. He knows you don’t have plans on throwing yourself into the inviting city to lash out your stress from the months you have spent in university but rather dancing. Unbeknownst to you, he’s planning something to stop you from doing your ridiculous dances in front of the farm animals sparing them the ridiculous sight after all he’s an animal rights advocate.

Tonight is the homecoming party for Taeyong that surprisingly spreads out in the university like a wildfire. It will be damn-ed as the probability of both of you meeting might not be high due to the flood of party-goers rushing for the free alcohol and the said sorority and because of your lazy ass. Doyoung dons his blank tank top and ruffles the damp mop of raven locks above his head.

You glance from your door and see your best friend have an absolute glow up like he doesn’t look dead just from days ago. There’s no doubt that Doyoung has his own ravishing features-- his scar, tall nose, pink lips, and the over-all enticing eyes that elicits a mysterious aura.

“Where are you going?”

Instead of answering your inquiry he taps furiously on his phone. You can sense the infuriating spark that glowers on the boy. He finally looks up at you. “There’s a party in Alpha.”

“You’ll be staying there?”

He coos. The hidden sneer you can hear that rolls out of his tongue with great clarity that immediately brings your eyes heavenwards. “Why? You’ll miss me?”

“As if.”

“I will be staying there. You should go, though?” Doyoung absolutely knows how such a party pooper you were that you’d rather stay home than mingling in a random college party or whatever social gatherings. Your reason? The signature ‘I hate going out, Kim Doyoung’.

It is part of the practice of his sorority to give out roses to a homecoming member, as significant as a welcoming gift and roses have a deep meaning for the frat. He volunteers to bring the roses for Taeyong since he has a cupid business to attend. He purposely left the roses in his room for you to bring your lazy ass in the sorority house and deliver the parcel to Taeyong. He grins at the thought.

You grunt loudly, generally having no qualms on concealing your obvious irritation. “Why do you keep on grinning? It scares me.”

Doyoung raises a brow then chuckles afterwards. “I’m just happy that I will finally get laid after these past months of hellish semester,” he trails off and gives you a knowing look. “Bye!”

It got you off guard. Kim Doyoung getting laid?

He beams at your surprised face. “I will be late. The alumni might be there anytime soon.”

“Who is the alumni?” This has been the talk of the town next to the homecoming party. You have no idea who it is despite your best friend being in on the said sorority.

Doyoung runs his hands over his hair again and gives you a lopsided smile. “Secret.”

He makes a dash for the door leaving you hanging and hungry for answers. Knowing him, he’ll never spill no matter how you squeeze him into doing so. It frustrates you as curiosity is getting the best of you.

Doyoung didn't bother to spill the person because for all he knows you’ll be meeting him anytime soon. It’s Lee Taeyong.

It's eight in the evening and surprisingly you were being productive at bare minimum. You try to uplift your mood by beautifying your room to look like it’s been owned by a lady not some random drunktard. After cleaning, you prepare dinner but the constant ringing of your phone disturbs you mid-way. You didn’t spare the called ID a glance for you know who the call is from.

You snarl. “What?”

The chaotic music in his background is making it hard for you to comprehend what the hell he was trying to convey. His voice lowers two tones down his usual. “Hey, can you bring the roses here? I forgot to bring it with me.”

You immediately roll your eyes. “And why should I do that?”

Doyoung on the other hand is trying to rake up his brain for possible things to coax you to bring your ass and the roses in the party. The alcohol might be taking a toll on him but it’s helping him to think of an easy plan to bring you here without any questions arising from your mouth. “I’ll treat you to dinner.” And just like that.

You let your pride be damned. A free dinner is always a key to do favors. You huff. “Where is it placed?”

Doyoung immediately grins. “At my room, on the plush chair by the window.”

You cannot decipher how complicated your best friend is sometimes. It aggravates you. He never forgets his things and you think that he is doing this on purpose just to make you walk out of the shared apartment. But whatever his intentions are, the free dinner he coaxed you with is promising. You walk inside his room and the sight of his perfectly tucked bed welcomes you, the bundle of crimson red roses sits by the grey chair just beside his window. You didn’t know much of his sorority’s practice nor the significance of the rose, but you chose not to further question the frat’s motive behind it as the free food is your topmost concern.

You scramble out of Doyoung’s room to fix your dishevelled appearance. You grab the blue summer dress on your bed and thrash in an oversized cardigan to spice out the look then you pumped some gloss and ran a blusher on your cheeks.

Damn the man who spoils your plans on binge watching Netflix. Damn Kim Doyoung. And damn you for biting on his bait.

You made a beeline for the door, your phone in hand and the roses in the other.

It’s gonna be a long and young night.

For a summer night, the wind is surprisingly chilly and not humid. The night sky is clear with the stars twinkling brightly along the perfectly arched moon. The walk to Alpha chi omega’s house is not that long by car but unfortunately, the university carpool is not available and so here you were walking to the farthest side of the university.

It doesn’t take you long to locate the house out of all the similar frat houses lined up together like building blocks. The house that belongs to the hosting sorority is booming out loud with obnoxious music and the notable crowd of wasted college students going in and out of the main door. The place reeks of sweat and alcohol. The sight of red cups litters the front yard and the large ‘homecoming’ banner is perched up the front porch of the frat house. You feel out of place just by standing out there awkwardly with a bouquet of roses in hand while mentally cursing out and throwing imaginary daggers on Kim Doyoung. If it wasn’t for the free food, you would never be here.

A familiar ass caught your attention but it isn’t Johnny’s but Mark Lee’s. A sophomore and a civil engineer major that you bump into occasionally because of Doyoung. You approach his figure and his dishevelled state really caught you off-guard. He’s standing in his overall glory; with black tee that clings onto his lean torso and grey sweatpants. His high cheekbones stand out and his cheeks are slightly flushed due to two reasons you are sure of, alcohol and the cramped crowd inside.

You clear your throat as you attempt to voice out your concern however it comes out as a mere squeak. “Do you know where Doyoung is?”

Mark gives you a knowing smile while giving you directions on Doyoungs whereabouts. There’s something off about Mark’s sly smile. Confusion undulates on your soft features which made the younger grin even more.

Another sophomore jumps into the picture. He sends Mark reeling on his position but the younger boy shoots up a grin as an answer to Mark’s scowl. His tan skin glows under the poor lighting on the front porch of their sorority house and he looks beautiful nevertheless. Haechan brings the red cup to his plush lips, his throat bobbing down with every gulp of the beverage. He breaths while giving you a mischievous grin. “Well, someone’s about to cross paths with someone.” He makes sure to give emphasis on the word someone while grinning up to Mark.

You raise your brows. “Yes… Doyoung.”

Haechan clicks his tongue. “May the odds be with you, y/n.” They continue on gulping their drinks and leaving you questioning what the hell are they trying to imply. It seems like they are trying to point out someone is about to meet you but you weren’t sure who?

Making sure you were out of earshot, the two boys fished out for their phones. Typing in the same text flying into their minds.

‘She’s in, make sure Taeyong is in the damn kitchen.’

They know. Except for you and Taeyong. Talk about thrill.

You stalk away and enter the house. Irritation bubbles inside your system like a brook. It feels as if everyone knows something that you should be aware of. No matter how hard you try to think of a person who you can possibly meet in here, there’s none in mind. You try to wipe it away by mentally taking a note that what you are doing is a commission; a full course meal paid by Kim Doyoung.

The sight inside of the house is quite a scene; a wild scene to be exact. Typical. Bodies are grinding each other by the beat of the hired DJ, sweat and alcohol as well as humidity. You squeeze yourself through the crowd of wild college students. Some sort of liquid splashes your skin but you paid no attention to it.

This is why you hate going out. The only time you have been dragged into a party is with Taeyong. No, it wasn’t obnoxious but rather magical. Anything done with Taeyong is always spectacular, he makes all the mundane things dull to extra.

That was during the last years of highschool when he asked if you could go with him to this frat party and you obliged. It was also in the same setting of a summer night, young and chill. Deja vu.

Taeyong holds onto your hips that night while he glowed perfectly underneath the pale moonlight. The dusk may have taken its way that time but you can still remember how bright he glows like a crazed halo. Maybe the reason why you can still find your way to the outskirts of the university where the sorority houses are found is because he already brought you here. And everything, every memory you have shared with him is always indelible.

You can remember a quote from Fitzgerald. ‘So we beat on boats against the currents, borne back ceaselessly into the past’. You find yourself spacing out remembering how his soft lips brushes against your pinna, whispering words that replays over and over and over again. Both of your bodies stayed close, swaying with the melodic beat that the speakers blasted up. It was always Taeyong, his scar, his lips, his eyes that are always so alive. It was always him, always.

Taeyong leaned over saying the words that no man you tried dated ever uttered to you. “You are my sweetest feeling that I know.”

You beamed up to him. “I think my soul is in love with yours.”

And you will always be. And nostalgia hits. You miss Taeyong. He has so much space filled inside your heart.

You finally squeeze yourself past the hungry and wasted crowd and head towards the kitchen where Mark instructed you to go. You narrow your eyes searching for the familiar figure of your bestfriend but he wasn’t there, not even a trace of his silhouette.

The kitchen is bustling with alcohol. Piles of beer cans, half empty bottles of wine and few bottles of soft drinks dominated the sleek black granite countertop. You walk near the kitchen island where several drinks are offered placed haphazardly allowing the people to nurse their own drinks. You had your back facing the opposite hall that leads to the dining area while clutching the roses for your dear life.

Taeyong is leaning against the wall facing the dining area where his highschool friends are currently at. The rose ceremony was delayed because of Doyoung and so he busied himself by trying to catch up with his old friends.

“How’s life so far, Taeyong?”

Taeyong smiles, he’s always as fresh as raindrops. “Usual.”

They laugh. “How ‘usual’ is usual though?”

Taeyong thought to himself. It is bland, empty and he always finds himself staring past the mirror trying to remember how your face looks like since the last glance he had was exactly two years ago. He shrugs his shoulders and lifts the red cup to his lips. The alcohol rakes his throat, foreign. “A couple of punches here, training there, matches here, and rings over there. Usual.”

They continue on carrying their own conversation on which Taeyong lost interest. He just stares, his mind traveling and wandering. A high pitched screech alerts him, he immediately settles the cup down, the contents splashing over the dinner table. A woman is on her knees, clutching her lips with her hands.

Taeyong immediately crouches down. “Hey, are you okay?”

She slurs and Taeyong tries to comprehend what she is trying to convey. “Wuh-teeeeer…”

“Huh?”

“Wuuuuh-teeer…”

Water.

He immediately assists the girl to the kitchen sink. Dragging her slumped body slowly towards the kitchen floor. He tries to call out someone in hopes to help him with the inconvenience. But the kitchen is surprisingly empty.

It’s a plan to have two souls meet together in one. But fate must’ve fucked up the plans of the brotherhood. For the one soul is mending a random wasted college girl and the other one is fuming in anger.

You storm out of the kitchen when you are about to brandish a cocktail while waiting for Doyoung. Someone approaches you, pouring a beer into a red plastic cup.

“All right, babe, you’re free tonight?” He nods, concentrating on getting his foam right while looking at you intently. You didn’t know who this guy was, but bold of him to be so overly confident. Pity he was a massive stoner from the looks of his red eyes. And he’s not, never, your type.

“I’m not interested.”

His eyebrows went all sarky. “Why, you got a date?”

You face him entirely. “Look. I told you I’m not interested so don’t get too overly friendly and get the hell out of my face.”

He settles his cup on the counter and crosses his arms over his chest while leaning over to you, clearly invading your personal space. “Why should I do that?”

You wrinkle your nose at the smell of his breath. “God. I’m out of here.”

You let your feet drag you away from the party.

Oblivious to the failure, the other members of the sorority gather themselves around the front porch obnoxiously betting to one another. They have this one picture in mind, a painting of Michaelangelo, the creation of David. Where two fingers connect. Little did they know. There isn’t a meeting that happened in the first place.

“I bet my ass, those two have already met!” Hyuck yells. “Homeboy must’ve scored!”

And they all holler at once. Then, they hear someone clearing their throat.

“Goodbye. I’m heading home.”

The boy’s eyes widens at the sight of you at the door, fuming. Doyoung is at the end of the staircase, examining you. He inquires, “Did you meet someone?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, you,” you approach him and hand the roses. “Someone must’ve been so drunk he directed me to the kitchen when you are actually here.” You shoot Mark a look as soon as you finish your sentence and he answers with a sheepish grin.

You turn to Doyoung, “Treat me to a nice dinner tomorrow.”

It’s confusing for him. “Wait… you really didn’t meet someone? Why are you leaving so sudden?”

The boys quiet down suddenly, all confused with the matter.

“Oh, I did meet someone.”

“Yeah?” Sparks of excitement ignited inside Doyoung's chest.

“Yeah…” you sigh. “A fucktard to be exact.”

Doyoung’s brows furrow for a moment then realization hits him. There’s never an encounter that happened like he initially expected to. The roses didn’t reach Taeyong. And you were also mad which is uncommon. You clear your throat again, “I will head home.”

You lightly smack Doyoung cheeks and head off.

“No way Taeyong is…a fucktard though?”

“Man, go home you’re drunk.”

“I heard my name.” All heads whip towards the direction of the voice. Taeyong.

A confused silence filled their friend circle before Mark interrupted mid-way, “No way Ty....”

They all groan in disappointment. The roses shenanigans didn’t work.

Johnny slurs. “Maaaaaan, if someone didn’t get a shot. I’ll be getting my own shot.” And he stumbles on his own feet and lands on Mark and accidentally kisses him on the lips.

Mark immediately pushes the taller guy away from him. A scowl paints his face while wiping his lips furiously. “Maaaan, what the fuck are youu doin’ maaan?”

Johnny yells, “No homo, bro!” And continues on peppering the protesting Mark with kisses.

Sunday arrives faster than you have expected it to be. The professors were much more considerate with the classes and decided to have an interval for each class so it’ll be less of a burden for the students. After the party from Doyoung’s sorority everything seems to be a cultural reset from partying to lessons real quick. This is college and you are really accustomed to it.

You ponder, there is just something—sort of difference in the air surrounding you and Doyoung—something like he’s been plotting something so evil or mischievous and it kneads in your chest that you’re the prey. Or whatever that is.

He doesn’t say a word when you drag him to a restaurant of your choice but you are pretty much sure that deep inside he’s cursing you with all his might. You try to annoy him, testing his patience yet he answers you with a forced smile. But the way his eyes spark with such animosity is enough evidence to show how infuriated he is that he needs to pay for your dinner. And too bad for him, you have a big appetite.

“What do you fancy eating today? Stir fried rice, or,” he stares dumbfoundedly at the large menu while scratching the back of his head. He mumbles incoherently, “I will just go with the black bean noodles.”

Doyoung’s body turns around towards your direction, “What do you want?”

You state all of your orders and you can clearly see the way Doyoung’s face grimaces. The cashier jots down the orders and Doyoung pays the bill with a pained expression ebbing his face. It was beyond entertaining when he was clutching the bill so tightly, the cashier had to muster such great effort to pull away the bill out of his iron grip. It was his fault anyways; he’s being such an idiot.

“How’s your major?” you beam while mixing the fried rice. The mouth-watering sight in front of you made your stomach turn somersaults. Has it been months since you have eaten legit food? You didn’t know but right now you just want to stuff yourself up. Free food is always much more tastier than those that you pay for.

“I’m taking up three units for fundamentals of political science,” he blows up the searing hot noodles and slurps it all. Doyoung’s cheeks puffs as he chomps loudly on his food.

There’s a deafening silence between both of you. Minding your own businesses until Doyoung’s phone rings obnoxiously, disturbing each other’s peace. He picks up the vibrating phone with his lithe fingers and scowls at the caller ID, “What?”

You stare at him in silence. Still devouring the freshly served food on the table. Doyoung dramatically settles his phone on the table. An expression of agony painting his slender face. You ask, “What?”

He never tries to conceal the words he just spatted. Making you wanna hide away in embarrassment as the other customers shot you both dirty looks. “I want to poop.”

It’s taking a whole lot of effort for you to not headbutt the raven haired boy that is sheepishly grinning at you. You really do. The straightforwardness of Kim Doyoung can be excruciating for the people around him and you are not an exception.

You grit your teeth, “Then go! I don’t have the loo with me! Jesus Christ!”

He raises his brows and settles his chopsticks on the table. He clutches his chest. “After the good deed I have done to you, this is what you are gonna pay me back? You’re heartless.”

Alright, the weight of his statement has hit you straight to the gut. You try with plenty of effort not to shoot him a leer. You clear your throat and push away the growing impatience as you hoist your bag to your shoulders ready to get something for him. With the conscience card that he has recently pulled, you know he wants you to get him something. “What do you want?”

He smiles and uncoils from his slouch, rising to his full height emitting this smug superiority. “Gatorade.”

You squint your eyes and muster the deadliest death glare you can throw towards him. “You’re lying like… what is the gatorade for? You’re clearly making me pay you in return!”

He frowns at your claim. “I’m dehydrated. I chugged down plenty of beer, do you think that’ll make my stomach happy? Do you want me to fart on you to further support my claim?”

You roll your eyes in disbelief, “You’re gross.”

“I’m just trying to support my claim.”

“How? By broadcasting your physical state?”

He tries to open his mouth for another retort yet you immediately wave your hands in defeat. Bickering with him is like talking to a smart wall. He will try to twist everything until you want to give up, like practically shoving your head underwater. And the fact that he’s a political science student, of course arguing is one of his best specialties.

You left as soon as both of you finished your meals. You rake up your brain of possible stores that sell Gatorade and the first thing that has popped into your mind was the convenience store on the east avenue that used to be you and Taeyong’s favorite spot. The memories flood your brain.

“What does it taste like?” Taeyong asks, his brown orbs staring at you with such longing.

“Sweet.”

He raises his brows, “Oh?”

“Yeah, have a taste,” you offer him the sponge cake you’ve been munching a while ago. You extend your arm in his direction and scroll absently on your phone. Before you can even complain about why it is taking him a long time to have a taste, his lips are already smashed against yours.

Goosebumps immediately rises up to its wake upon the feeling of Taeyong’s lips on yours. This is your favorite feeling, something that only Taeyong can do to you. His tongue grazes your lower lip in a deliciously slow pace of which made you enthralled in the process. In response, you part your mouth to meet him halfway.

He pulls back and smiles at you. “It’s so sweet, like you.”

You immediately blink to snap away from your reverie. You whisper underneath your breath, “Focus, y/n.”

Two years. Two fucking years have passed yet you are still drowning with the memories of him.

The chime resonates in the store, signaling your recent arrival. The cashier gives you a curt nod then returns to sort out the products that lay on the countertop. You immediately made a beeline for the freezers at the farthest part of the store and grabbed the striking blue drink that appeared similarly like those occasional highlights on Doyoung’s hair. You sigh while clutching the cold beverage, “Just like his stupid highlights.”

It happens so fast that you cannot decipher the scene that unfolds before you. A figure looms behind you grabbing a watermelon smoothie, his body slightly clashing on yours when you attempt to walk towards the cashier. He is clearly towering over your height and his back is facing you. The guy’s shampoo or cologne has a tinge of a melon undertone that really reminds you of Taeyong of which derives from the fact that he is standing so close to you. Secondly, you can feel the humming warmth that radiates off his body. You gulp hard.

You mentally curse at tangling yourself in an awkward situation. You should leave yet you find your face heating up, stunned with your brain freezing. You pause for a good minute to observe the stranger.

A chill runs down your spine at the sudden feeling and the proximity. You clearly know that this guy is a stranger, but there is a sudden feeling erupting inside you and your mind is coaxing you that he isn’t. He’s not a stranger. You stare at his back, trying to rake up who possibly this guy is. He had a mop of grey hair, dangling earrings on each side and a driven aura. You reckon he is handsome as well, judging by the way he can carry himself through the store. Your mind is in a state of an endless blackhole, empty. All you could think is the fact that his alluring scent has you biting inside of your cheeks and ogling at him shamelessly.

The guys must be feeling the heavy weight of your gaze from behind. And so, he turns his head slightly to his right giving you the sight of his ungodly sharp jawline. You didn’t get a good sight of his eyes since it’s covered by the occasional strands of his titanium colored hair. You blink hard, that fucking jaw is really familiar. The fucking tall nose is familiar. The guy nods his head in veneration and whispers a small “sorry.” And stalks away. You hear the bell chimes.

Your heart starts to slam against your chest out of nowhere when you finally formed all the puzzle pieces together. That familiar voice lacing with softness and care. The hair, the jaw, the nose, the way he dresses. No, this isn’t just one of your imaginations. You know, it’s him, isn’t he?

You make your way through the snacks aisle to chase after the guy. He’s just inches away from the door when you suddenly grab his jacket sleeve. You smile, “Taeyong?”

“Uhm… do I know you?”

Your expression suddenly drops. The guy you just pull in is not the guy from earlier. He looks foreign with his hair in the shade of burgundy. You sheepishly apologize, but it comes out as a mere squeak from embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I think I have mistaken you for someone else.”

“No shit. It’s alright.”

You pay for the beverage and snatch the parcel. You scramble to your feet quickly in hopes of searching for him. You know deep down, you’re sure of it. You crane your neck as far as you can possibly go until a voice laced from behind.

“What the fuck are you doing? And where’s my drink?”

You whip your body towards him and hand him the Gatorade.

Doyoung frowns. He tries to conceal the growing annoyance from his insides. Trying to act like his stomach frustrates him but the truth is, he is actually infuriated by the fact that Taeyong left the store so soon before you could even reach him. And he sees the scene unfold to himself. He huffs. With all the meticulous planning he thinks of, plus the help of his friends but still it isn’t enough that everything is derailing his momentum. Not just you and Taeyong but fucking fate itself.

At this moment all Doyoung thinks of is a ceasefire, he gives up. He’s one everything—including faking an upset stomach and practically broadcasting that he wants to shit just for the sake of both of you because Johnny notifies him of Taeyong’s whereabouts. Doyoung’s face is quite red by the chilly wind of Sunday night. He announces after trying to cool down his frustrations, “I’m going home.”

You raise your brow, “But you said we’ll still eat downtown?”

Doyoung glares. Now he’s back with his usual demeanor that you could easily taunt by throwing him a series of provocations. But you choose not to, he seems to be in a really bad mood. Not to mention diarrhea lies that you seem to be picking up. “I’m mending a stupid stomach.”

And before you could pull him back, his long legs already take him a long distance from yours.

Your feet backs up automatically and blend into the crowd. You cover your cheeks with your hands trying to wipe off the chilly wind that kisses you. Your summer dress’s hem flies after the sway of your hips. The adrenaline is still coursing through your veins due to the last encounter with the stranger in the convenience store. His alluring scent is still fresh in your mind and it only reminds you of the guy you are still obviously in love with. You shouldn’t be anymore, but there is still a spark that ignites through your chest. And in your mind there is this feeling of familiarity that lights up the fire that has long died two years ago. It’s not just a plain sense of belonging though, it’s Taeyong, and he always feels like home. It’s been two years since Taeyong ended everything nicely. Yet something is quite strange as the feeling of longing for him suddenly went away with just a simple encounter that you weren’t even sure if it’s him in the first place.

You utter to yourself, “It’s him, I’m sure of it.”

But the never ending question plays around your mind like a broken record. Are you really sure? Are you ready to face him after two long years?

You hug your figure as you make your way through the same familiar tracks of your favorite pancake house in the main district. You should be home right now, yet the alluring scent of pancakes has you dragging your feet into their shop.

The small shabby shop that is designed with occasional aesthetic trinkets makes it stand out amongst the industrial buildings beside it. It is bustling and alive with the swarm of people going in and out of their main door, stomachs full and satisfied faces. You enter the door swiftly, the scent of freshly cooked pancakes thrills inside your nostrils. The familiar tune of summer by Calvin Harris blasts on the speakers in the small diner.

When I met you in the summer To my heartbeat sound We fell in love As the leaves turned brown

The diner is very crowded tonight. You struggle to go past through the crowds but you understand, the pancakes they sell here is to die for.

And we could be together baby As long as skies are blue You act so innocent now But you lied so soon When I met you in the summer

Your face immediately lights up when the cashier hands you the awe-striking sight of the freshly cooked pancakes, flooding with maple syrup with occasional strawberries there and frostings that adorn the stacks. You took a whiff of the familiar cologne with a watermelon undertone from a while ago, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus especially when a pancake is making you so thrilled to eat.

The bustling sound of the city mixes with the catchy tune of summer and you find yourself dancing slightly along it’s melody. The lights above you cast a warm yellow glow on your face while you are waiting for a change. You answer the cashier with a smile when she hands you the cash. When you turn around, it wasn’t the aesthetic decoration of the diner that surprises you. But your ex boyfriend’s handsome face comes to your view. Your heart pounds inside your chest, yes you were longing for him, and there he is. Fate plays.

When I met you in summer.

You whisper but Taeyong manages to hear that soft call that he fucking miss so much. Those plump lips of yours that utter his name with such love and endearment, “Taeyong.”

It takes you, well, a whole hour to plop down and listen to your best friend rant about you and Taeyong. The way he did plan everything but according to him,

“Fuck fate. Fuck destiny. But I’m glad though, even if I look like a villain trying to overthrow you two.”

You just know that he is beyond frustrated that he didn’t get the both of you meet with his own mirthful ways but nevertheless, he is happy. You, on the other hand, are still shocked. Not that you had a bitter feeling, but Taeyong really had a drastic change compared to two years ago. You barely even know him.

It comes to your knowledge that he is really famous now, with his alias Kingpin plastered all over the city. He got home for a match with this Gregory guy that you haven’t heard of which is the fact that you are oblivious to it, all of it. Taeyong was stunned that you didn’t know anything about him or boxing, and you felt bad and so you made a mental note to research about it and him. He looks much more handsome than ever. With his doe eyes that hold a strong sense of contradiction, it’s strong full of aura and fire yet soft and endearing at the same time. The favorite rose like scar is still prominent underneath his right eye. His nose. His lips, those lips, it takes you an ounce of effort to hold back and not to think of unnecessary thoughts while observing the way how slow his mouth opens whenever he speaks or how pinkish it appears.

Doyoung asks you while he plops himself comfortably on your bed. “What happened in the pancake house?”

It is awkward.

After you whisper his name it feels like everything stopped. Both of you are like statues glued to your spots, holding deep eye contact. You can feel yourself flustered underneath his strong gaze. Those gaze that gives you an impression that he’s been undressing you already just with those eyes. It lasts for seconds, until you are both shushed by the staff for the queue is getting long.

You flinch but relax the moment after when Taeyong’s hands found its way to your hips. Just like old times. He didn’t utter a word, instead he’d silently lead you to the table just near the door. You immediately elicit a gasp when the warmth of his hands suddenly disappeared. You blink hard then place your plate down and silently nibble on the edges of the pancake waiting for Taeyong’s arrival.

Now that he’s much nearer, you can smell his strong scent. It doesn’t hurt your nose but the watermelon undertone stays in your nose for a while. A chill runs down your smile when he has plopped down comfortably in his seat giving you a fresh smile that makes your heart pound against your chest out of nowhere.

Taeyong is itching to talk to you. He clears his throat, “So… I didn’t know you were actually staying here.”

You really couldn’t get a control of your voice, instead it came out really weak and not as strong as you hoped it would be. Out of all moments, your body is slowly betraying you upon the sight of the beautiful Taeyong. You really pray that he doesn’t catch you on. “I didn’t reach the quota in Missouri, and then the application period for Hansville is already closed. So I just stayed, I hate new enviro—”

Just as you could mention the environment, Taeyong already did. He gives you a playful look, “Environment?” There’s actually no point in small talk, because Taeyong knows everything about you but he did just for the sake of seeing you, your lips, your beauty, he’s risking it all.

You feel your chest vibrate with laughter, “You couldn’t blame me though, I hate people.”

Taeyong grins. But his eyes are glimmering of darkness that surfaces his orbs. Taeyong knows and he sees it all, his overall effect on you. His lips start to stretch more into a wolfish grin while inching closer to you.

You instantly gulp while staring at him back. “Why?”

“Are you really sure about that, y/n sweetheart?” His breath smells like mint that fans out your cheeks when he slowly dragged those words from his tongue. Casting instant warmth over your cheeks and activating your gooseflesh.

You find yourself struggling for words upon the catch of his old nickname for you. Especially when he’s in this state, the usual laid back manner. You hate people alright, but you had exceptions like Dia, Doyoung and unfortunately him as well. He immediately retracts from slouching and straightens up his posture. He licks his bottom lips slowly. Honestly, watching Taeyong is making you suffer internally.

“I really missed you, y/n.” He says, his voice echoing with deep timber that laces with velvet and sweet. But those words aren't imbued with sarcasm or mockery rather laced with deep sincerity.

Those words somehow pinches you. You do right? But there is something holding you back. Fear? You let out a grin but it looked really forced with all your teeth gritted. “It was good seeing you again, Taeyong.” You clear your throat for the nth time and try to push out the strange feeling away in your gut.

Both of you finish up your pancakes and he offers you a walk to your apartment. Both of you are not speaking letting the summer wind speak for both of you. The familiar building welcomes your sight, there is light in your unit’s window so you reckon Doyoung is still with the world. Taeyong clears his throat and stops in his tracks, “I guess this is your home, no?”

You smile, “Yes.”

He approaches you with such agility in an astounding manner. You catch a whiff of those familiar fruity scents again when he leans closer to you. In response you immediately shut your eyes, expecting. But there are no kisses delivered. Way to go and make yourself a fool.

He chuckles. “Can I get your number?”

Your whole face heats up as if you’ve been submerged in a tub of boiling water. You open your eyes and divert your gaze away from his playful ones. “Of course, Hand me your phone.”

“Just scribble it down my forearm.”

“What?”

“My phone died but I got some marker, so just jot the digits down.” He fishes for the pen and hands it to you. His calloused hands brushing yours, and those small forms of touch still delivers the extreme effects to your body.

Those sinful arms. Your fingers are shaking while jotting your numbers down, his bulging veins are too much of a distraction especially whenever he flexes it.

You bid him goodbye and speed walk away to enter your unit, missing the smile that ghosts his lips at your marching figure.

You couldn’t wipe Taeyong’s images that night from your mind and so does he. Hell, If you can just see how those smile never leaving his face at his unexpected meeting with you.

The sound of a rustling bedsheet snaps you to reality.

You stare at Doyoung. “It was okay.”

His brows arch upwards as if mocking you. “Liar.”

Heaven knows it wasn’t just okay, you indeed enjoyed having him as company.

An exasperated groan leaves out your body as the bell rang obnoxiously signaling the end of the final period. You immediately hoist your bag over your shoulder and march away from the school as fast as you could.

Unbeknownst to you, you are crossing paths with Taeyong in a day more than you had imagined. Just yesterday, you bump into him just when you were thinking about him. And his divine sight welcomes you, with his sun-kissed skin shimmering underneath the rays of the summer sun, his neck glistening with a thin sheen of sweat and those eyes that ignites with unexplainable aura and intensity.

You hate to admit but he has changed so drastically and you could use the term cool, to describe him and his current state. You see him jog around the oval with his titanium hair striking up giving more emphasis to his sharp features. It’s parted haphazardly and damp. His tank top is clinging to his torso soaked with perspiration. His biceps strains out, he’s not that bulky type but with occasional muscles here and there, his physique is much more lean. And with just those charismatic looks, it never fails to send you a pool of pleasure, there.

You feel a shiver when he turns around and runs a finger to his hair. His prominent veins bulged out as he tugged on his hair, fixing it into place. Your eyes trail down further until you see his abs on full display, coming to your view.

Fuck. Fuck everything and your raging hormones. You immediately return your gaze up to his face and you feel your face heating up when it comes to your realization that he’s been observing you as well. His gaze never leaves yours, then one moment, he lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe off his face. Giving you the view that you've been ogling at. He knows what you like and he’s giving it to you without any protest.

The sun shines through the oval, casting a yellowish glow on his body. His soft flesh is glowing with the occasional tattoos adorning his ribcage. You immediately gulp in hopes to diminish the growing sensation blooming in your stomach. But it never left, especially when Taeyong’s smile is being shot out towards your direction.

He’s really pleased to see you, especially seeing you in that body fitting uniform that makes him go hard on a summer’s day.

He approaches you without wiping the smile off his face. You fidget while trying to compose yourself not wanting to embarrass yourself much further. The night when you met him the first is enough.

“Fancy seeing you here. Are you headed home?”

“I ought to but I think I want to take a walk to the park.”

The bag straps dares to slip out of your shoulders. You utter an incoherent, “fuck.”

Taeyong immediately changes his expression. He looks at you in concern as he catches on your discomfort. “Why? Is there something wrong?”

“Oh… it’s just that the professor advised us to bring all three books for a collaborative reading but he didn’t show up.”

“Hmm…”

“And then I was tasked to report to the home room adviser so practically I have to carry out these heavy books while climbing up to the fourth floor.”

You immediately shut your mouth and your rants when you saw how he grew silent. You bit your lip and apologized meekly, “Sorry, I was just so tired from the summer class and this bag—”

He doesn’t utter a word but he grabs the bag away from you even before you can protest. He groans, “Damn, these are heavy.”

“They are.”

He stretches out his hand to you. “Come, let’s go to the park.”

You protest. Your eyes widening at his declaration. “But… but, you still have your training?”

“Nah. I can make time.”

And he pulls you away. His hand holding you dearly, just like old times. The warmth of his hands filling up those spots of yearning you had from his two year disappearance.

The walk to the nearest park wasn’t as deadly silent like the first night you both met. With both of your shoulders bumping and hands intertwined. You were not holding back anymore, clearly stating all of your distaste towards your college professors passionately with Taeyong chuckling in response. The conversation carries on smoothly filling out the gap that both of you had withdrawn from the years of absent communication. It’s filling out the space as both of you are talking about the randomness in all things possible not letting the implicit dead air eat out the aura engulfing you two.

Taeyong is not much of a talker, but when he does, everything that rolls out of his tongue could really hold a significant place in the listener’s memory. This fact still piques you up at the sight of his doe eyes quietly invested whenever you talk. You are always the talker between the two of you.

You can notice it from your periphery. You can feel the heavy weight of his drowning gaze piercing right through you as he examines you with such curiosity. You halt at your impending speech about student organization, feeling a lot more hotter than usual. The silence ebbed its way like how a beacon flies away from a started up fire. You let out a sharp intake of breath as you muster all your courage to reciprocate his heavy gaze.

You let out an airy laugh, “Is there something on my face?”

The way his demeanor changes drastically before your very eyes. His deep eyes are luminous, that made you feel some sort of deep mystification. His eyes are clearly looking at something through you, or searching for something to mend a yearning that is situated deep in his chest. He missed looking at your face, and a single gaze couldn’t fill those years of him trying to familiarize your face with those dusts in his memory.

“You’ve changed so much,” he says. His eyes are not leaving yours. You could almost feel some tinge of connection with just the way he stares down at you with deep adoration. That shoots out a simmering feel underneath your skin and painting out your face with searing hotness.

You try to conceal yourself by clearing your throat. “How do you know?”

“I keep on looking at you.”

“I can see that,” you state in a matter of fact. Challenging him further, “why is that?”

His lips immediately tugs upright at the change of your tone. He pushes in, further stretching out your curiosity, “Do you really wanna know?”

“Why?”

He blinks slowly, his eyelashes slightly fluttering against his eyelids. He opens his lips, “I wanna feel those lips again.”

You gulp hard when you see his gaze drops down to your lip level. That is the same thing you were thinking of the first time you saw him, don’t you? You also gawk at his as well, playing along the colors of a pale pink rose and crimson chrysanthemums. You can feel your brain struggling out to think of a thing to get away in this scenario you are in, instead you are lost in thought while looking at his lips. You definitely want to feel those lips as well.

“Why don’t you do it then?”

You lift the edges of your lips into a playful smile testing out the very edge of Taeyong’s patience. You must’ve stunned him at your vulgarity since he is opening his mouth for a retort but nothing rolls out.

“A-are you sure?”

This is the connection you were talking about. The constant pounding of both of your hearts are beating in sync against your rib cages. Feeling the same sense of want for each other’s touch. The butterflies flying around your stomach in an erratic manner.

“Do it.”

You thought he’s gonna hold back, but the sudden feeling of his lips crashing on yours had you sending in a skyrocketing ecstasy.

You didn’t get a hold of how long it has been, but all you can think of how sensual everything is. Goosebumps arise on your skin at the feeling of Taeyong’s tongue slowly grazing then nibbling on the plump flesh of your lower lip. You unconsciously let out a quiet moan that gave him access to meet you along the process.

Taeyong relaxes for a bit and you feel his hands slowly crawling up your arm and find its spot and settle it softly on your jaw. He caresses you slowly with such delicacy, afraid to give you a scratch. You are really lost with his mouth connected with yours. You are too stunned to think of something but it felt magical and passionate.

He slightly tilts his head towards his left and pushes your face more into him to deepen the kiss. His tongue grazing through the underside of your mouth.

He breaks the kiss, but his hands never left your cheeks. His forehead is resting on yours, a smile is ghosting his lips but his eyes are closed. He whispers your name sweetly causing a feeling of sparks igniting inside your chest. You rest your hands on his shoulders, gripping on it for dear life and to calm your nerves.

You can see the slow flutters of his eyelashes and how it cast a hollow shadow on his cheekbones. His breath slightly fans your face and you find yourself ticklish. He finally opens his eyes and how it holds such light, alive like the galaxy. He gives you a smile, “I really missed this.”

Then he leaned again to press on several small kisses, peppering your face with his lips while making smooch sounds. You immediately let out a giggle. His touch stays put, hot and tantalizing you can almost feel yourself burning.

This is what Taeyong has been dreaming of. How he yearns for that tinge of strawberry that he only gets to taste whenever he’s kissing you. You taste so sweet. Overly saccharine it made him much more alive.

Days past to weeks. It’s a routine like you expected it, impending torment every morning which is summer classes. But someone has added some spice to your monotonous life; Lee Taeyong. There has been a change in the atmosphere engulfing both of you— something that touches a nostalgic feeling — a slight nudge to your heart.

He is currently leaning at the back door frame of your classroom. Watching you struggle to finish up an essay that is currently due in fifteen minutes. That is exactly the sight he would die to see.

“Start with the main points first before you elaborate the sub points,” he beams. Good thing, you are situated at the very back and so you are both out of ear shot. You press your brows all together, concentrating on the damn vague subject but the scent of Taeyong is too distracting.

He crouches down and snatches the pen away from you, scribbling a lopsided pyramid with all the words as your starter. You stare at him and he gives you a smile in return. The way his eyes turn into moon crescents that made your heart churn. Do you really deserve those smiles?

He whispers proudly, “There. That should keep you on track.”

You gasp, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He steals a kiss from you and stalked away with his phone on his ear.

Later that day, your phone keeps buzzing against your ass. The first ever text you’ve received from Taeyong. He had a new number.

[pretty but flat as a board lee taeyong] [4:16 PM] I hope you finished your paper! [4:18 PM] its taeyong btw [4:23 PM] uhm,,, perhaps you want to go for a ride,, like fuck I hate texting dhhdhd [4:23 PM] but I wanna show u around our boxing gym if you would like of course… [4:25 PM] text me back, yeah?

You immediately grin at the message.

[4:26 PM] alright, as long as you treat me dinner :D [4:27 PM] alsoo… thank you, I said it already but I want to thank you agaaain :) [pretty but flat as a board lee taeyong] [4:27 PM] you got that! :) [4:27 PM] see you!!! <3

You pretty much found yourself ogling at his last message.

[4:28 PM] anything for you, sweetheart. I love you.

Those messages from Taeyong got you in a state of deep conflict. You just thought of it as a simple get together and not a date. Right, that must be it, he just wanted to show you around the place where he boxes. That could be it.

On the other hand, Taeyong knows that it isn’t just something as a plain go-out impromptu. He really mustered his courage to ask you out for a date. And he hasn't thought of a proper place since he’s not permitted to wander around the outskirts of the city not until after his upcoming match. The boxing gym could be the second destination after dinner.

The shared relationship between the two of you has escalated more than just plain awkwardness. While you are munching out your yakisoba, Taeyong is eating out his salad, watching and lowkey happy that you are sharing a company with him even though the offer is quite a little bit absurd. You are now staring back at him whenever he does, occasionally throwing out flirtatious comebacks after the other. This made something spark out in Taeyong’s chest, is it a sign of your feelings coming back? Or something even bigger than the picture he has been painting? Commitment?

The walk to the boxing gym didn’t take up much of your time. Taeyong pushes the door and lets you enter in first. There are several people inside the gym and they all gave you a friendly greeting. There’s another man that approaches the two of you, probably a few years older than you and is handsome as well in his grey sweats and black shirt. His eyes mold into moon crescents as he greets you with all his pearly teeth showing, “You must be y/n? I’m Taeil, Taeyong’s other coach.”

The people in the gym scrambled out to the connecting unit to give you both privacy. It's just both of you, with the lights casting a warm glow between your bodies, the dumbbells untouched, the ring in the middle waiting for him. He leads you inside the ring as he hoists up the rope upwards for your entrance. The platform is quite slippery but Taeyong immediately guides you forward towards the middle with his hands gripping your hips tightly. You just watch him intently and you can see how he grew a lot more taller, practically hovering over your figure.

He demonstrates a simple punch here and there. Pointing out the parts of the ring but all of his words are muddled, swimming away as your attention is solely focused on his lips and the way his slender body sway with such grace and agility.

He removes the glove and throws it away. He approaches you, “Are you gonna do something with the way that you are looking at me?”

He can feel it. Tonight is something different. The way both of you are staring right at each other’s soul is a little different.

He slowly intertwined his fingers with yours then he holds it up to his lips to kiss your fingers gingerly. He’s taking his time to kiss one digit to another. Then, he leans slowly while grazing his lips onto the outer shell of your ear. Your body tingles at the warm breath fanning the right side of your face. “What does that stare mean huh? Y/n?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak with those tantalizing eyes staring at you, full of determination, smoldering with passion and lust. His touch on your hips is burning, shuddering as he caresses it down slowly emitting the rise of your goosebumps. His lips are brushing against your nose peppering small kisses just like old times. He handles you with such care like you are some sort of a delicate masterpiece by Michelangelo.

You just want him. His lips. His entirety. You want Lee Taeyong.

He caresses your jaw soothingly before leaning down to press a soft peck on your lips. Then, again and again. Until you encircled your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You feel him smile against your lips after reciprocating your hungry and passionate kisses. After all these years of yearning, you’ve never felt so alive. He’s something akin to fire that never fails to have your insides burn with so much spark and passion.

He pulls you more, pushing your figure on his. It feels surreal with both your bodies molding into one. His soft touch turns into a passionate tug of war with your blouse. His hands run over those curvatures that are hidden by your top. Oh god, he knows how he missed doing these.

Taeyong knows that you’re the catastrophe that yields this side of him. He loves you so much. And he believes that you are both made for each other, like planets meant to be aligned together. Your scent that smells like home with a touch of roses and bloom. Your lips that are perfectly made just for him, your tongue that slowly and carefully grazes his lower lip. The kiss that both of you are sharing is too sensual, different, grounded into something just like the very first one you have both shared.

He nibbles on yours that triggers a soft moan from you. You immediately granted him entrance. The ghost of his touch is still lingering on your jaw, until he settles it down onto your hips. You are sure that he can the loud pounding of your chest, the way the big spark ricochets against your chest with every touch he leaves.

It’s messy but surreal. Binding with much adoration and deep sense of lust. With his tongue exploring every bit of you. Tangling and connected by feelings. It is so romantic that you don’t want it to end.

He breaks the kiss, leaning against your temple. Ragged breaths resonate around the quiet gym. You take your time to settle your pounding heart and breath. You look at him, all but imbued with pure adoration and affection. His swollen lips whisper your name in awe and he smiles at how he dreamt of it and now it's unfolding before him.

You just want to be like these. With you tucked under his protective embrace. Listening to his erratic heartbeat. But, you were still afraid.

He whispers, “God. What will I do without you?”

“But… I’m always here.”

“But I won’t.”

You inhale a sharp intake of breath. “I don’t understand.”

“I might move out abroad for training.”

Those are the things you are always afraid of. Taeyong entering your life, then to leave out as soon you cannot contain yourself anymore, drowning with every piece of him, lost without his presence beside you.

This was your nightmares, coming back at square one broken and shattered. And it’s threatening to come back especially now that you are finding yourself falling for him, again.

It’s raining hard. Gloomy and heavy just like the constant barrage of thoughts clouding in your brain that you have overlooked a text message from Taeyong and Doyoung’s sudden appearance at your room.

“I can see a blooming college student, and why is that?” He teases but it wasn’t enough to make your mood lift not for a little bit.

“I don’t see myself as blooming though, why’d you say that?”

“Don’t lie to me. I can see how lovely and alive you are when you’ve been hanging out with Taeyong.”

“It won’t be long. I should’ve known,” you wipe your face. “God, why am I such an idiot?”

His face immediately concerts to concern, he knows you’re in deep conflict and something wrong is up. “Tell me.”

You told him everything. The internal battle you’ve recently put yourself into Everything that has been bugging in your mind lately. “I’ve let him in my life once, then now, twice and right now I’m unsure of everything. I’m even afraid that I have to go through the past shits I was thrown into because he chooses his career more than… us. And I don’t want to feel that misery again.”

He hums, “Look.” You embrace yourself for an earful of lectures from him. “But, who cares about the past? It's already done but it isn't just you who suffered and undergone extreme shit.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re dumb, y/n.”

“I said what I said, Doyoung. This isn’t love, it could be just the wild force like lust or whatever...”

“No, you’re still swimming around this deep pool of conflict and denial.”

“It's easier to speak about someone, Kim Doyoung. But you don’t know what I am feeling right now, stop invalidating me.”

“I’m not. But I’m speaking as a best friend and I know you love him more than you know, you do.”

You snap, “Stop concluding things!”

“Oh yeah? But if you are unsure of Taeyong, why do you keep on texting with him when you know that you shouldn’t? What about those kisses you both shared when he dropped you off here yesterday? You don’t know but you’ve been drowning with the presence of Taeyong that you’re oblivious to the fact that everyone knows you’re lying. You still love him.”

“I just want to hang out but that necessarily means I do love him.”

Doyoung clenches his jaw and approaches your figure. You’re being too difficult. Your eyes widens at his sudden outbursts but what made you stunned is that he suddenly pulled your face to his, then he planted a soft peck on your nose.

Doyoung knew this was coming, but he just wanted to help with the thing he knows will work. After all the shenanigans he pull, all of them didn’t work and ended the way he wanted in it be. By doing this, he will know if you are indeed in a midst of conflict or you really do love Taeyong. It’s a giveaway, if you do push him away, it just explains everything. If you do not, then he is wrong for pushing everything into your edge.

Doyoung is tall and thus, he can see the marching figure of Taeyong and how he stopped midway at the sight of both of you. From the perspective of Taeyong, it gives him a picture that both of you are kissing when in fact, Doyoung is just leaning down to match your height.

“What the hell?”

You immediately remove Doyoung’s hands from your face and spin quickly on your heels to meet him. “Taeyong, I can explain…”

Taeyong smiles bitterly, “No. save it.” He lets go of the material he’s been gripping through all this time.

The sight of Taeyong, he’s beautiful as ever. But looking at his face painting into a mixture of plain reticence and agony surely made you sick to the gut. You hate to see him hurting and when he spun his heel to leave, you chased him off. Afraid of losing him, again. At this moment you have been sure of it, you love him more than you do.

“Wait—“

He spins his heel but maintains a safe distance from you. “I didn’t know you and Doyoung had a thing, I should’ve known.”

“No! No, please, listen to me—“

His gaze is so dark with pain and anger. “I don’t want to hear anything from you. Imagine, I have been believing all these time, yet, fuck.”

“No, Taeyong…”

He snaps, “Do you really love me y/n? Or you’re just driven?”

That shuts you out. But you know that answer, it's just that fear is holding you from shouting out how much you love him.

He smirks bitterly, “See? Those could answer everything.”

Heaven knows how much you love Lee Taeyong. How you are afraid of seeing him leave and never return back.

The next days you are waking up to are the worst as you speak. The way every morning feels so heavy with a constant tirade of thoughts running over your mind like a shadow lurking by. Your mornings pass by bitterly without messages coming from Taeyong or his stupid voice overs that lulls you to sleep. Not even his sweet talks and songs. None of them all.

It feels like shit to wake up with a heavy chest glooming with unexplainable feelings of confusion and denial. You hated to admit but you are so angry with yourself for being such a pussy. The constant loop of emotions that you feel, above all fear of having everything repeat again, then anger at yourself for hurting Taeyong, then regret because you know you could have done something better. You are well aware that you are just forcing yourself into this pool of anxiety. Afraid of something uncertain, when you shouldn’t be and it was just enough to drive Taeyong away. You could have just told him you loved him, but you were letting yourself be pulled out by your own judgements. Love means sacrificing, but you were such a coward for doing so.

Denial that was the cause of the pain that killed his passionate eyes. You know too well that what you have shared with him isn’t just something as plain lust but it was driven by deep love and passion. Yet, you couldn’t even correct out the stupid lie that Taeyong had to forcibly believe. Because you were so afraid of admitting that you are falling back to him, and you’re afraid that he might not be able to catch you out like he did before all because of boxing.

But was it worth fearing for if it meant pushing him away? No. You loved him more than you do. Does it make you at ease to just bury down in your darkest pits and watch Taeyong disappear just because you were so afraid of taking up the risk? No.

In the course of summer’s day and hazy afternoons you have spent with him, shoulder to shoulder, swaying with deep grace and agility, you have seen how smooth your relationship with him changed. Unbeknownst to you, the relationship shared between you has blossomed into something passionate and raw; full of emotion. No puppy love but special and mature. You hate to engage with people but with Taeyong around, there is a line that connects the two of you like two star-crossed lovers destined and made for each other.

His smile never fails to cast positivity in your life, and hell you know, that you wanted to be a reason for those smiles as well. But how can you do it, when you were the reason why it won’t happen anymore?

You know you are just scared of letting him inside your life and then one moment, he’ll leave. His departure has deeply wounded and scarred you to the point that you don’t want it to happen anymore. This has always been a part of commitment, that obstacles are being thrown towards your way. But the more you think of it, the more selfish and worse you felt. He did support you all the time, especially when you mentioned to him two years ago that you wanted to go abroad for an internship or those times when he is determined to keep you on track despite his body failing because of the strenuous training he’s being shoved under. But when it was his time to go, instead of supporting him all the way, you eventually closed everything around you, even tried so hard to tell it without hurting you. That made you feel like shit.

You try to diminish everything and try to focus on your classes but you constantly find yourself thinking about those titanium hair and passionate eyes. His kisses and burning touches. You stare at the pile of schoolworks stacked neatly at your table, waiting for your whole undivided attention. But you just couldn’t bring yourself to focus, not with that growing lump of sadness clogging on your throat.

It’s impossible to wave everything off like nothing of this ever happened, that Taeyong was just another episode in your life. But he wasn’t just someone that is a passerby, he’s engraved to your memory, and he’s that memory you wish to remember till death.

It hurts to see his face into pain.

Lee Taeyong is the man that you’ve ever wished for. He loves without boundaries, without limits, without judgement. He’ll love you with all his might, disregarding all those flaws that you keep. He’s pretty with his soul so bright and pure. He’s like a rose in this dead garden that shines in his very own way. Bright red, full of determination, power and beauty. He’s so kind like the angel Gabriel. He was a dream come true for you, ethereal like a daydream, the love of your life that you pushed away because you were being such a coward.

A throb in your chest escapes when you see the crumpled paper discarded near the door. His neat handwriting comes to your view.

I just read the Notebook by Nicholas Sparks and saw this passage;

“I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I’ve led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who’s ever lived: I’ve loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.”

I love you with all my entirety, I know I have fucked up, but I am willing to do everything for you, just to be with you, forever.

He just loves you and you were doubting everything.

“Good thing I didn’t throw that paper away.”

You immediately spin around your heel and see Doyoung plopping himself comfortably on the sofa.

“I’m still mad at what you’ve done.”

“I know, but if it wasn't for that show, you’ll never be as sure as you are now.”

“You’re bullshit.”

“I’m just helping you,” he clears his throat. “Now, tell me more.”

“No, until you tell why you did that stupid thing.”

He sighs. “It’s an eye opener for people in denial like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you heard Taeyong, you immediately pushed me away and chased after him… Why? Because you don’t want to see him get hurt because of a stupid and childish act.”

You didn’t answer.

“Now tell me more.”

You sigh again and close your eyes. Doyoung watches you patiently. “Doyoung, tell me, am I dumb for feeling this way? Afraid that he’ll leave me again because of boxing and selfish because I am just looking out for myself?”

“First of all, you are not dumb, academically could be, but no, you’re not. You see, whenever we feel fear, that just means that we love that person so much we are afraid to lose them. And don’t invalidate everything just because you are looking out for yourself.”

He continues on, “I know that the separation of you two were messed up and rushed because Taeyong had to train more and you cannot decipher the fact that he has to leave. And now that he’s back, you just don’t want to feel the same old misery you had to endure these years. But trust me, he feels the same way as you do. In fact, much worse because he chose boxing over you. But it's part of life and love, sacrifices happen and it makes the bond between the two stronger.”

“What do I do?”

“You see, you keep on returning back to your past, that it might happen again and again. Forget those, it's in the past, what is important is the present and that is what you should focus on. Feelings are really hard to keep up with. We’re humans, vulnerable. But I know that he really loves you.”

“I do, too.”

“Then, you should talk it out to him. Don’t rush things and take lithe steps.”

He approaches your figure and pulls you into an embrace. You feel your eyes burning with tears when he whispers, “If two people are meant to be together, they’ll eventually find their way back, and this is it, y/n.”

“What if he misunderstood?”

“He won’t. Trust me, he is my friend too.”

You feel a sense of comfort even if it's just a fraction of time. His words echoing around your mind, “If two people are meant to be together, they’ll eventually find their way back, and this is it, y/n.”

You find yourself dropping by their boxing gym. Taeil approaches you figure, awkwardly leaning against the door, kinda conflicted if you should set foot in the gym or not.

“Hey,” he greets. His face is quite pale with the notable dark bags under his eyes, he looks really dishevelled.

You bow your head, “Hey Taeil, what’s up?”

“Tired.”

“Oh, it's that so?”

“But he’s pretty messed up among all of us.”

He knows.

You can hear the disgruntled grunts and strong punches from the farthest side of the room.

You let out a sigh, “Why is that?”

“You see, he’s been really expectant of this match but he was notified at the last minute that it was cancelled because his opponent was tested positive for using peds which is illegal,” he trails. “I think it made him upset given the fact that we have done extreme preparations and he was obliged to undergo a mandatory drug test when he hated doing it in the first place.”

You find yourself being stupefied, not knowing what to answer. “I’m sorry--”

You are interrupted midway when you hear constant shouts and punches.

“It was found out that the contract of sponsorship was a fraud and used as a bait for us to bite on. He was really enraged.” Taeil clears his throat, “Now he’s been grilled by the trainers because there’s a big dip in his usual powerful performance. There was never a problem especially in training but his performance just escalated down and I really don't know how to help him either, I think he's really unmotivated.”

You feel really guilty because you were also the reason for his sudden drop in performance.

You call out to Taeil and hand him the pink card, “Can you please pass this to him?”

Taeyong stumbles in the locker room after the hellish training, he grips on the metal bars tightly to support his body. He feels like his body is collapsing with his legs wobbling and his arms tired, without the power to hold anything in his command. The bright pink card that is clipped haphazardly on his jacket caught his attention, he stretched out his arm and he elicited a sharp gasp when he felt the sudden jolt of pain rising up to his shoulders. The contents of the card surprised him, your baby picture that��s his favorite and the neat calligraphy of a book passage that had his eyes damp with tears.

“So it’s not gonna be easy. It’s going to be really hard; we’re gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday-- Noah”

I have also read the Notebook and all I could say is I can’t stop thinking about you. Everything could be hard but I am more than willing to dive, to walk into a path full of thorns with you. I was really afraid to see you walk out of that door, and it came to my realization that I’d rather have you go away temporarily, to chase on your dream rather than losing you forever. Chase your dream and I’ll chase mine, and we’ll still find each other’s arms. I will support you always, rose. I love you so much.

You find yourself in the boxing gym again, awkward as fuck.

The rambunctious rambles of Taeyong’s teammates piques up his ears yet he doesn't pay attention to it because he knows it’s useless. He quietly wraps the white bandages around his wrist and his fingers. His muscles are still aching with the aftermath of the afternoon grilling yesterday but he needs to practice more despite everything fucking him up.

Taiel shouts out, “Taeyong!”

He snaps, “What?!”

But the sight of your figure at the door deeply surprised him. You look like you’ve been contemplating for a good minute whether you should enter the gym or just cling out at the door. Ah, he knows. You hated talks and people so much and it shows.

It’s been days since you have last seen him, he’s still beautiful as ever. But you can see the dark shadow that casts underneath his eyes. There were lines here and there that could be caused by stress and fatigue. His jaw is much sharper than before. His eyes were unreadable, deep and smoldering.

He hoists and climbs out of the ropes and out of the ring to approach you. You can see yourself eyeing his figure intently but you rest your gaze at his strong and unyielding stare down to those pretty lips.

He breathes, “Hey.”

It was just a faint call yet it feels like you’ve been floating around in cloud nine. You fidget against the wall and Taeyong notices. You wanted to tell him more, everything, yet you are confined in your very own space, with fear clogging out your throat.

You settle with calling his name, your lips quivering, “Taeyong.”

Taeil immediately shushes the other boys that have plains on eavesdropping on the drama unfolding. The marches out towards the connected unit with exasperated groans leaving their lips. Now it’s just you and him again. With everything untouched and quiet. The space around you is basking into that awkward pace just like the first encounter. Your heart ricochets off against your chest that indicates a quiet plea that snaps you out of what you should do. Here goes nothing, you should talk it out to him.

You try to divert your attention from the erratic beating of your heart to the boy who’s been looking at you with his dark eyes.

He begins, “How is your summer class?”It took you off guard, “It’s fine.”

You clear your throat and mumble the words, “I want to talk, please?”

He leans down with his brows furrowed together. “What? I didn’t get what you were trying to say…”

You sigh and yanked his tank top to plant a kiss on those rose colored lips of him. He misses your touch. He relaxes by the feeling of your touch. You were just enough to fill out the hole that has been empty throughout his heart.

You whisper, “I’m really sorry for being afraid… for holding back… I don’t have something intimate going on with Doyoung I swear, he just leaned in to slap me out of my reverie… With his acts I was able to make sure that you were the only one that I will ever love… I could never replace you with someone else because I love you so much… you are the only one that I will choose, forever.”

He closes his eyes and leans on your forehead. He was so afraid of losing you either. When he saw Doyoung that day, he really felt a sense of tugging in his heart. Fear that he couldn’t make up for all the things that he’d done. For leaving so soon. For leaving you. He misses you so much that he can’t find the energy to go on without you by his side.

He kisses you with all the power he could muster. With all earnestness. Peppering you with kisses, dusting every part of your face with all his might. He’s intoxicated with just your presence looming inside his systems. He leaves you breathless with every passionate kiss he leaves, leaving a trail of hotness that has been searing up into your body. You could almost feel that spark with just the ghost of his touch. This is what you want, with him by your side. How content you feel with him and those yearning suddenly disappears.

Taeyong cups your face, holding you with such care as if you’re the most delicate glass. Fragile. He stares at your eyes, searching into yours deeply until he could see how beautiful they really are, that holds the entire galaxy with them, sparkling and deep.

You grab his hands carefully, kissing his bruised hands that are like those flowers that your mother grows. Delphinium, that is casting a glow of pale blue and violet. It must’ve pained him to still train with his hands scarred.

He calls you out with the same old nickname for you that sends you to bits of fluttery. “Sweetheart... “ His voice is imbued with longing, his voice deep and soothing, contradicting yet lulling. “You don’t have to apologize. I will forgive you every time, because I love you so much.”

“I’m sorry for being like this, still trapped with the past…”

He shushes you with his finger. “Hey, let’s forget everything in the past and focus on what we have here in the present.”

You smile, “Present.”

Taeyong finds himself being lost for words yet he seizes this opportunity to hold you closer to his. He loves you dearly and admires your beauty. Your entirety. He loves you for being you. That is all about simplicity with your skin glowing, so it was your inner beauty that not only lit up your soft features but Taeyong’s eyes as well. When he sees you smile and laugh, he couldn't help but smile along too, even if it was just on the inside. To be in your company was to feel that he too was someone, that you had been warmed in summer rays regardless of the season.

“Stop staring.”

He laughs, “Why not? I miss you.”

“Your coach might scold me for interfering with your training.”

He rolls his eyes, “The match was cancelled, anyways. Let him be mad, I don’t care.”

You grin, “You’re impossible.”

He leans in again for a kiss. It’s not just a peck but one steeped in a passion that ignites. It is the promise of realness, of the primal desire that glows in your chest.

He kisses up and down your neck. You let out little whimpers of anticipation while he works his way back to your tender, smooth lips.

He breathes out your name, “y/n…” caressing your face gingerly, brushing away those strands of hair away from your eyes, “Did you know I was really happy to see that letter from you?”

“Why?”

“Because you called me rose that you only did when you felt like it.”

You laugh at his confession, “Why?”

“I just felt happy that you finally addressed me by that name.”

You give him a smile while caressing his cheeks soothingly. His expression is a mixture of endearment and loving, with his smile that is so blinding with beauty.

He continues, “I could still remember that very last time you called me that and I thought I will never get those endearments from you. Rose is the name out of all that I can help but to smile whenever I hear someone say it.”

“It’s actually weird to call you that.”

“But it’s fucking unique and I will aways remember you whenever I hear the word rose.”

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you… You’re someone so kind and pure that brings up the beauty even in the smallest things and God… what will I ever do without you in my life?”

“We are always meant to be together even though Doyoung’s plan on bringing our paths together fails.”

You cross your brows, “How did you know that?”

He grins cheekily, “He told me.” That snitch.

The conclusions are starting to form inside your head like whirlpools. You point out an accusatory finger towards him, your eyes wide, “So you know?”

He smirks and kisses you again. “Yes, but it just feels good to hear those words coming out of you.”

“You drama king!”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Out of seven billion, I will always choose you.”

Those words prompt another fond smile to play on your lips, one so tight it hurts your cheeks.

You hear a roar, “Lee Taeyong! Back to the ring!”

You could see his manager fuming but when he sees your figure being concealed by Taeyong’s body he immediately scurries back and grunts out incoherent profanities.

You snatch his top to lean for a peck then pushing him away, “Go, before you get grilled for--”

“For what? Being sexy?”

“You have an non-existent ass, Taeyong.”

He just smiles at your comeback. And he could just feel the air knocking out of his fucking chest. God, what is life if it wasn’t you with his side like this? He’s a lovefool, only for you.

He begins, “You know I hated books but…” his eyes are now soft and deep, earthy brown - the color of the earth after torrential rains. A smile tugging on the ends of his lips, “You are, and always have been, my dream.”

You recognize those quotes from Nicholas Sparks.

You smile too, “You are and will ever be the love of my life, Taeyong.”

SMUT (SKIP IF UNCOMFORTABLE)

You can still remember the first time that you felt extreme happiness, that is when you have been given the plush toy you have been dreaming off by your dad. That was memorable, then the second one that gave you light was Taeyong. He brings the extreme feeling of euphoria just by the ghosts of his lips. From the very start, you wanted to drown yourself with the boy who’s laced with elegance and sweetness that is Lee Taeyong.

You didn’t know how Taeyong was able to spare himself out of his training sessions and his fuming coach. But what is important is that after he runs towards your direction, carelessly yanking out his bag, he reconnected his lips to yours, peppering your whole face down to marking your neck as his. You both don’t stop feeling each other until you are both forced out by Taeil.

Taeyong’s vein is filled with adrenaline and the wild drive of lust. He carelessly drives down his apartment, skipping three traffic lights, at this moment he couldn’t bring himself to care about traffic rules, he wanted you the soon, the better. The both of you stumbles down the hallway, bodies waltzing while trying to fit in the door of his unit.

His fingers were grazing your scalp slightly tugging on your locks to provide him more access to deepen the kiss. His other hand is roaming around you, exploring every bit of your curvature that you always hide. He grips on your hips hard then slammed you on the nearest wall he could find. Taeyong pushes his pelvis onto you, deeper while torturing you by biting down on your lower lip. You let out a quiet moan that urges him to do more, grinding against your pants that sends a surge of swirling sparks in your belly and wetness that pools between your thighs.

You’re his drug that drives him into madness.

He couldn't contain himself any further as excitement pools inside his system, his eyes burning with desire with the sight of you caged between his arms. He gives you a look while he touches the hem of your shirt, silently asking for your approval. You nodded and it was enough for him to shake while trying to work out and remove you from the garment that covers your beauty. He inwardly let out a low groan upon the sight of your breast cupped perfectly by the lacy bra.

Your faces immediately flush at his intense gaze, but he immediately leans in to plant a quick peck on your lips, smiling throughout. “You are perfect. God.”

He traces with his lithe fingers starting from your hands upward to your shoulders. You can almost see how he occasionally steals a glance at you with his hooded eyes. His gaze is so heavy and hungry as if you’re a pool of crystal water and he’s a man with an exorbitant thirst, that he cannot longer wait to devour you with all his might. He proves his ardent hunger by cupping your cheeks and attacking your now swollen lips, then tilting your head slightly on the left to press his lips onto the delicate skin of your neck, his teeths grazing and biting down, leaving you angry red marks. He wasn’t feeling enough, he titles your head more, providing him more access to the sweet spot that is on the arch of your collarbones, sucking and marking until you are desperately crying for more.

You let out an airy laugh, “Is this what you are planning along all this time?”

He answers you with a breathy answer, “Fuck, yes.” He towers over your figure while grinding more onto you, the friction making him bite down his moans and hard with every fraction of time passing by. “You’re the only one I plan on doing this with.”

He pulls away and finally assists you while undressing. To him, you are the most perfect, with your skin glistening with sensual sweat. Taeyong’s eyes were drawn down to the red marks that caressed its way down to your neck, reaching to just below your collarbones. Taeyong always told himself that goddesses were real and he was sure that you’re one of them. You’re a masterpiece that he will always hold with such delicateness.

He pushes your figure down onto his silk sheets. You can feel the cold contact against your flushed skin while Taeyong hovers onto your figure attacking every part of you that his lips could. He sucks onto your neck until those marks turn with a deep chase of purple and blue. You buck your hips against him, firmly to feel him, until you could squeeze out a reaction from him.

Taeyong groans slowly which pushes you more to roll your hips against him. The instinctive reaction of Taeyong was to bite down on your neck a little more harder which earns a sharp gasp from you. There is a rising flame bubbling inside of your abdomen. Two amorous lovers binded by love and lust. He gives out a quick yet quiet apology while returning into his business on marking every spot he sees no shade of lilac or blue. You try to grind onto him shamelessly, again, teasing to test out his patience, yet he already has his hands holding you down to place with his nails digging deep into your hips. You could almost feel his raging boner resting against the flesh of your inner thighs, throbbing.

Swatting away his grip, you immediately sit up to undress him up. Your hands run along his skin, clever, skilled, determined as you stripped off the tank top that clings onto his wrists. The flash of passion, the fury of need that darkens your eyes with a sense of decadent power as the man you really love is sitting before you, almost as naked as you.

In mindless, liberated pleasure, you shove out his gym shorts.

Taeyong’s eyes glimmered in the weak light of his room, as he forced the gym shorts out of him and flung it aside. “You’re driving me insane.”

“I could say that too.”

His mouth begins feasting onto your flesh again, his greedy hands racing over your quivering body in ruthless exploration that got you breathless. Heat pumps throughout your veins; feeling soft and warm, melting into Taeyong’s touch, like one's body.

You let out a gasp when you feel Taeyong’s palm cupping your breasts. His other sinful fingers move against your surging wet heat, relentlessly driving you up to insanity, the need to release is clawing viciously inside your body. Your pussy throbbing with his fingers encircling with your clit in a torturous manner.

Taeyong breathes, “Look at me,” when he sees your eyes fluttering shut. “It’s just you and me. Just us, like always.”

“Always.” The shadows dance around the both of you. Shifting while both of your fingers stroked. The sensation builds after the other, your body trembles, shuddering layers, then it halts when he suddenly withdraws himself letting you on the edge of frustration and want.

“Fuck, Taeyong!”

“God, I can eat you out, alive.”

You breathe, “I could… let you.”

With the expert flick of his hands, he had your pants tugged down along with your panties with a low grunt. Your eyes both lock in a brief second, all smoldering and swimming with intense lust. He clicks his tongue while playfully flicking off your bra.

His hands, as you could note, are kinda calloused, rubbing at your inner thighs and then spreads them widely while exploring a bit of your body. The power of his caress is influenced by boxing that is tantalizing and arousing, his fingertips pressing onto the delicate part of your skin, wandering underneath to give you behind a gentle yet strong cup.

He leans in again to leave out open mouthed kisses on your bare chest. The air around thickens, your breath snagged in your lungs. Your back arches as he takes your breast in his mouth, sucking, teeth scraping erotically over your aching nipple. Then, trailing down to your inner thighs to leave small kisses here and there, then he’ll suck. You writhe against the small exquisite pain, sobbing his name, the wet pulse between your legs is pounding with intense need.

Taeyong dips his head in between your legs, licking the hot, slick, and thick liquid that is dripping from your folds. You immediately let out a moan. He holds you in place, while he relishes on your juices while you suffer at his doings. The vibration whenever he let out a satisfied groan leaves out a tingling sensation to your clit. His tongue finally reaches out to encircle you wanting clit. Waves of ecstasy washes over you, crying out loud at the feeling of sharp sensation of pleasure flowing right at your veins. You try to reach out to anything your hands could get, grip on. You settle for his titanium hair.

“You’re so sweet.”

Whenever he speaks it grazes slightly on the nubs of your walls, which made you arch your back in pleasure. He continues on licking your juices, until he slides a digit in taking you completely by surprise. With his long, slender fingers inside you, the feeling is exceptional, delirious.

He slides his finger in, your folds welcoming him as it grazes and envelops every time he slides another finger. His thumb continues on playing with your clit which his fingers fucks you, knuckle deep without mercy. You immediately cry out in pleasure.

He pumps in a fast pace that has your legs trembling. Your sex is throbbing at his merciless pounding while reaching out to poke out your sweet spots, clenching around his fingers and soaking with your juices. You can feel yourself coming again, as he quicken his pace, you bite down on your lips to ride out the pleasure you are feeling. His thumb busy with your clit and his fingers pumping in and out of you.

“I’m coming. F-fuck, Taeyong. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“You like that huh?”

“God, y-yes.”

You can feel the hot liquid dripping between your legs. God, your core is still throbbing at the aftermath of his finger fucking, and you still want more.

“Fuck me Taeyong. F-fuck me hard.”

He immediately scrambles to his feet upon your request. Removing his boxers, you could see his dick, with a searing red tip oozing with precum. You are really aroused at the sight of him wrapping his hands around his dick, giving it quick strokes.

“Open for me, sweetheart.”

You did as he mounted you, crushing his mouth into yours as he thrust his dick into you. A sob of pure and overwhelming pleasure eases up your throat. Your walls stretch with him inside. He eases himself, pushing his dick to the extent of your hot walls. Arching, you brought him deeper inside. Your hips move in desperate, greedy time, urging him on.

In that fleeting moment before you both plunged into the roaring darkness, you understood that there will be no room for another man in your mind, in your soul, in your heart. It will always be him, Lee Taeyong.

Taeyong reaches out to stroke a palm down your exquisite curves and hollows that drives him mad all night and day while he reaches his point. You take him well, with him cumming inside you. Both of your breathing are ragged. The weak light illuminating from Taeyong’s lampshade cast your silhouettes. When he leans to press a quick kiss on your lips, two grey shadows molded into one.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

hello, this eaten all the left energy in my body so i hope you guys love this one! :D

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct-writers #neohours #lee taeyong #lee taeyong imagines #nct127 #nct #nct u #nct fluff #nct smut #nct angst #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 one shot #boxer!au #boxer!taeyong #nct taeyong imagine

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yvainegelinemarie · 4 years ago

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🖤🌸𝔐𝔯. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔎𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔞 2021 𝔙𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰 ℭ𝔞𝔯𝔡 ℜ𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔢𝔴 🌸🖤

I’m late I’m late for a very important dick appointment, date!

✨ 𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔 𝐒𝖕𝖔𝖔𝐤𝖎𝖊𝖘!!~ ✨

Idk about ya’ll BUT these new karma cards got me all 🤰🏻🤰🏻🤰🏻

TW: Proceed with cation!! Do NOT open if you do not wish to soak your panties and/or cry your eyes out at my appalling sense of ‘humor’

*Today I will be rating the new Valentines Day art for the Karma cards. The rating process was done by comparing them to their previous valentines day cards and how they went against one another on their level of sexyness within each card.

🌸 𝕷𝖚𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓 | 7/10 | 2nd Place

⚰️ My daddy he be lookin fine a FOULK this evening with his tiddie out. My baby knows how to keep me fed if ya know what I’m sayin.😏💦

⚰️ This beautiful, breathtaking, princely, lavishing work of art!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHGHJTE5LILO; (srry, orgasim seizure).

⚰️ It’s just *pats eyes with handkerchief* I have never in all my life, witnessed a man of this design. Please, don’t mind me. I just need a moment to bask in the glory of this angel.

⚰️ The 💦water droplets💦, his bedroom eyes, that CHEST- I-I...I just need a moment...

⚰️ Lucien has once and always stolen my heart BUT I do have to say that based off of some past cards, last years valentines card, and compared to Victor’s card this year that my Lulu has to come in second. 🤧

⚰️ His sultry, princely and sexyness is all there but we all know that Lucien can pull off a very dominating demeanor. Yet here he’s just giving me very submissive vibes this valentines. (Not that there is anything wrong with that.)

⚰️ And then this card has the AUDACITY to turn into this?!?! 👀👀

⚰️ Sighhhh...It is just so hard to watch MC living your dream...

⚰️ This card just looks so sweet. The carressing embrace, Lucien’s calmly surprised expression, it’s just all so gentle. awwwwwe!!

⚰️ Although this card is very romantic Lucien still looks very submissive and sweet. (Like homie looks like he’s never done this before which. LIES. BITCH I KNOW YOU) 👏🏼👏🏼

⚰️ One of the things I love the most about Lucien’s character is his very teasing and dominating aura and last years valentines card sucked that up and did a beautiful job of expressing his teasing personality in the artwork. I am hoping that maybe where this art is lacking the date itself will make up for it.

⚰️ I do find this card to be the second most sexy out of all the boys but I feel like it just doesn’t feel as Lucien as I would have liked it to.

⚰️ I do however find the artwork to be very beautiful and embracing. Especially when the card is evolved. The way Lucien holds MC in the second card creates this very innocent and warm embrace that reminds me of two people just on the verge of falling in love.

⚰️ It is a very sweet and romantic card and it is quiet cute to see Lucien all blushing and off guard instead of his usual impassive self.

🌸 𝐊𝖎𝖗𝖔 | 6/10 | 4th place

⚰️ The bestest boi of them all!!! 🥰

⚰️ Litterally nothing gets sweeter than Kiro!!

⚰️ So sweet, so fun loving! This sunshine of a boi makes life worth living! ☀️☀️

⚰️ Kiro is definitely the one who shows up at just the right time to make life a little better and brings out the inner child that my sun in capricorn tries to repress so intensely.

⚰️ And this card does that sweet and playful image justice. Always stay warm Kiro!!! AWWEEE!!!

⚰️ All I can say is I wish I was that dog so I can paw Kiro’s chest too. 🤭

⚰️ Now, It pains me to put Kiro last but it is just that I feel that his card lacks a lot compared to the valentines card from last year.

⚰️ We were hit with a very sexy Kiro and there has been plenty of other very VERY sexy Kiro cards up to this one that it just causes this one to hit different, you know?

⚰️ This one really captures Kiro’s loving and boyish personality so I definitely love it over all as a Kiro card. I think that it does wonderful in that aspect. But for valentines day? I expect something a bit more saucy...like an underwear model shoot maybe... 😜

⚰️ BUT THEN we get THISS!!

⚰️ S-Shirtless Kiro *Internal screaming* kahhhh!!! I can’t take it I. 😝

⚰️ Sometimes I forget just how HORNY Kiro issss....

⚰️ I think it’s safe to say that MC is only making that face NOT bc Kiro took that magazine but bc she be getting poked sitting in that lap like that.- 👀🍆

⚰️ Shirtless Kiro is an upgrade from what we had before BUT I still feel like this compared to the other guys and other very sexy kiro cards before that this still only gives a very innocnet and homey vibe.

⚰️ I do think that this card is very cute but when rating it on it’s quality of sexyness comapred to the other boys, I sadly have to put Kiro as last place.

⚰️ I am just hoping that next year all the Kiro stans get rewarded with a nice Calvin Klein underwear shoot. (I know I’d be happy)😌😌

🌸 𝐕𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖗 | 8/10 | 1st Place

⚰️ Tall, dark, and handsome AS FOULK!!!

⚰️ Victor never comes in to play no games yall!!! 👏🏼💦

⚰️ Did I say Kiro was horny? because I take that back. Sometimes I forget how BADLYYY Victor is trynnnaaa FUCK in EVERYYY date. 💀

⚰️ But like I ain’t mad. First off, Victor, daddy, can I have that designer bag? I’ll suck your di-

⚰️ Just the abs, that boujee ass robe even the cute ass fucking ties on his arm I-

⚰️ Victor be putting the standards for guys really fucking high in my book. AND I AIN’T MAD.

⚰️ I just love this card. It is honestly my favorite out of all of them (sorry Lulu) It’s mature, it’s sexy, it’s elegant, suttle, and EVERYTIME I look at it my heart flutters. This card is VERY Victor and a beautiful design of his character and it makes me VERY horny happy. 💦💦

⚰️ T-That angle... *blushes* He is ready to go to town if ya know what I mean.

⚰️ But given that facial expression he’s already busted it- 👀🤧

⚰️ On a real note tho. Victor looks so sweet and vulnerable here (*what a pussy) it’s so cuteee!!! Like I ain’t ever seen him look so sweet. (*fucking bitch.)

*I have a love hate relationship with Victor since he always likes to piss me off!!! But he cute so.

⚰️ Again I think that this card is my favorite out of all four of the valentines cards this year. I feel like the intimacy in this one is there. The imagery is very sexy but soft. I love their pose and I think that this card sells where we all like our minds to wonder off too.

⚰️ My absolutae favortie part is the simple pull on Victors unbuttoned shirt. It is just so sweet and so soft of an embrance.

⚰️But also Victor’s hand on the counter. I want that hand to smack my ass so hard fuck. 😋

⚰️ If I had to (and I do) make one complaint about this card it is that I honestly HATE Victor’s expression in the evoled. It’s just too soft and sweet for my liking. And as a Capricorn myself I can assure you that any slip up of us expressing even just the slightest bit of our vulnerability to anyone we will rip ourselves apart head to toe for years on that one single event and I assume that even during Victor’s most intimate times that stone cold look would not fade as easily as it does in this card.

⚰️I think that it is beautiful and no hate to the Victor stans who think he looks hot AF in this card. I am all for it. I just personally like my capricorns whipped into shape. 😌

🌸 𝐆𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖓 | 7/10 | 3rd Place

⚰️ This one gave me the most and best shock.

⚰️ My favorite Gavin cards are by far this and his valentines card from last year.

⚰️ There is just something about Valentines day that gets Gavin in a sexy mood. (you’re secretly a hopeless romantic, aren't you Gavin huh...huh???)😏

⚰️ First off, GAVIN!!! I ain’t ever seen you look so SEXY. Sending me Eboy vibes to the MAX ughhhhh!!!!

⚰️ I love the straps on his shirt and the fact that it’s wet and the glove PULLLLL!!! FUCKK GAVINNNNN!!! 💦🔥💦

⚰️ Gavin for me is everything that’s hot that I just can’t get behind but I WANT to get behind. You know? haha.

⚰️ He’s just such a good boy and a sad boi all at the same time and he holds a soft place in ma heart (but he’s definitely a one night stand and then I never call him again haahaaaa ahhhh) 🤧

⚰️ And then this card!! It is so cute! SO sweet!!! and just very beautifully intimate. They look so in love!!!

⚰️ I just know for a fact that this night is very gentle and very passionate.

⚰️ S3x with Gavin may not be intense, but it is love that we all at one point need okayyy!!. *cries* 🥲

⚰️ Gavin’s card is probably my 3rd favorite out of all of the boys this year. I do really love his pose and they are very sexy and very sweet and also very Gavin for his event cards. I also enjoy that his expression is still very true to his character in the last card (I’m looking at you lulu and vic)

⚰️ I just feel like the art lacks a lot of story in Gavin’s cards (even his ones last year too) They just look like they took valentines day photos together lol.

⚰️ I don’t hate them and they are very beautiful I just wish there was more going on then what looks to be like Gavin modeling for a brand of Makers Mark Whiskey lol.

⚰️ I actually haven’t played a single Gavin date🤭...so I don’t have much to say on how he reacts to MC outside of the regular story line and I am sure that his valentines date for our English Sever with him was very wonderful. Based off of Gavin’s main story character I wouldn’t consider him very romantic or at least not the one in control of planning their dates. I think that of all the boys Gavin’s Valentines would be the most laid back and I would like to see more of Gavin’s character coming through with the artwork of these dates if that’s the case.

ENDNOTES:

⚰️ On a serious note these cards are very beautiful although...I think I honestly enjoyed last years Valentines cards more than this one (the ones we got this year in the english server)... (omg...no way...she said it)

⚰️ Don’t get me wrong! All these cards are VERY sexy and I do like it but I feel like they almost lack intensity that last year SOLD us.

⚰️ I guess what I am trying to say is they all feel too vanilla if you know what I mean... Gavin’s card is the only one that gives me a sense of spice despite him being the sweetest out of all the boys. I just feel that these in comparison to how lavish last years cards were that I want to see more intensity.

⚰️ I am curious to know if the cards will ever get to that point (I know that the game wont give us full blown porn scenes...*sigh* lol) but I am looking forward to seeing some imagery to withhold the imagination of such.

⚰️ Basically I’m sad that Lucien had no scratch marks. That-That’s it! You caught me!! I just want to see my daddy’s skin all scratched up!! Is that too much to ask for?!

⚰️ ALSO I WANT FULL SHIRTLESS (WITH NIPPLES) SSR CARDDDSSSSSSS AHHHFGJGKRIGKECGHGERMCHM!!!!

⚰️ This is all written for shits n giggles. Please take this lightly and kindly let me know what karma card you liked the most.

Thank you for stopping by, 🖤 Yvaine.

#mlqc #mlqc mc #mlqc lucien #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mlqc kiro #mlqc zhou qiluo #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc bai qi #mlqc xu mo #love and producer #mr love queen's choice #mrlovequeenschoice #mr love victor #mr love kiro #mr love gavin #mr love lucien

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thedreadvampy · 4 years ago

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look it's very simple most main cast tma characters (except possibly Basira and Sasha and MAYBE Tim) are reacting to not just supernatural trauma but clear, explicit childhood trauma and I think that's important to take into consideration.

Jon evidently came from a difficult place in the first place, and he was taught that he was an unwanted annoyance who'd derailed his grandma's life, that his intelligence was unpleasant, arrogant and inconvenient, and that the worst thing he could do was get in a grown-up's way. Of course he's bad at talking to people about his feelings. Of course he apologises for seemingly random things and tries to hide big problems and power through on his own. He had a really lonely childhood where he felt like an inconvenience, and now in adulthood it's deeply difficult to believe that anybody will help him and not hold it against him. Of course he comes across staid and aloof - he doesn't believe that anyone will like him if he isn't Doing Everything Right. It's so easy in that situation to worry so much about not being a burden that you freeze your friends out even as they can see you spiralling and you end up hurting them when in fact they'd be more than willing to offer help and get you out. It's why addiction is such an easy hole to fall in, because it feels like a way you can be self-sufficient and deal with your feelings without being a burden. Jon ISN'T a very closed off person naturally, he wants to reach out and be close to people, but he's been taught over and over (as many autistic children are) that he's too much, that he takes up too much space, that it's unfair for him to expect people to go out of their way to help him, so he boxes it away and shoves it down and turns to cigarettes, paranoia and denial in an attempt to manage the problem by himself. He's trying so hard to not be the Weird Kid, he's trying to play the part of what he thinks an archivist and a boss should be and blah his way through; he knows believing in weird shit opens the door to all sorts of stuff so he sticks his fingers in his ears and goes LALALA. he's deeply avoidant which ironically is why he often ends up diving in recklessly - it feels safe to only put yourself at risk (you who think you don't particularly matter, are unloved, and are an annoyance anyway) rather than wait and let others get involved and either judge you or get hurt. He didn't tell ANYONE that his encounter with Daisy had hurt him for SEVERAL YEARS because he didn't want to upset anyone. This speaks to me so much of a kid who growing up was always treated as underfoot, in the way, abnormal and with emotions and problems that weren't nearly as significant as the Important Grownup Things. I don't think anyone knew how to help 5 year old Jon with navigating his parents' deaths, and his grandmother's grief at losing her child probably made it very hard for them to connect whether or not she actually resented him the way he thinks she did. He was treated with bitterness and coldness his whole childhood, and he's never been given space to be angry about that because she was doing her best and dealing with a difficult situation, but it certainly left him with an expectation that trying to turn to anyone for emotional help and support will get you in trouble AND is unfair on them. Being with Martin, and indeed all his friendships and relationships, is hard to navigate when you've been taught for so long that exposing your vulnerability will get you yelled at or will upset people. You try to harden up and develop an exoskeleton but you're so chronically soft and in need of help and love so it spills out messy and you don't know how to take the walls down or build better ones up.

Martin's obvious, because his parental abuse is at the centre of his arc and is explicitly spelled out by Elias. He's so sure it's something he's done that's made his dad leave and his mum despise him, and he's hoping against desperate hope that if he can be Good Enough, little enough of a problem, helpful and invaluable, he can make up for whatever chronic flaw in his personality makes him unlovable. Of course he ISN'T unlovable, and none of his parent's treatment of him is his fault, but it's much safer to believe it's your fault and you can change it than it is to believe people who are meant to love you can just not hold up their end of the bargain for reasons totally outside your control. Much like with Jon, Martin has been taught to believe that he's a Problem - where Jon puts up walls and tries to be aggressively separate, Martin tries as hard as he can to prove himself Useful and Valuable while walling off an excess of humanity. Honestly though Martin's coping with it better than Jon throughout the series because he knows what it is and he's TRYING to push past the impulse to Not Be A Bother and actually let people love him. But he's still seeing the world through the lens of someone who's spent his whole life believing that the only way he'll deserve love is to become invaluable, to be useful, to be caring, to be needed, to be all give and no take, and that's not sustainable. And how much must it knock him back from trusting enough to ask for help when his boss (leave aside the love interest bit) talks about him like he's a buffoon and a waste of space however hard he's trying to be helpful and valuable, just like his mum has for years? Finding out that you matter enough to that person for him to risk his life to save you, and to really truly see you, goes a long way towards showing you that you're not always right to assume that people are lying when they say nice things about you and honest when they say cruel things about you - sometimes you are genuinely loved by people who ALSO see you as flawed. and while obviously after that the circumstances are very different I think we've seen Martin become more comfortable with his own tendency to acidity and sarcasm, anger and messy feelings, around not just Jon but in general (although also I can't talk about this without as usual observing how weird it is that people read Martin as sweet, servile and wimpy when he's consistently tough, sarcastic and brave AS WELL AS deeply lacking in confidence, afraid of conflict, emotionally giving, and terminally people-pleasing. He's right when he repeatedly says people underestimate him and don't see him - it's weird that the fandom is a big culprit of that)

Speaking of characters whose trauma responses are often overlooked, Melanie doesn't talk much about her pre-statement life but she's clear that it hasn't been good, and that other than her dad she's had nobody in the world she can trust. I am positive that her childhood was marked by parental abuse/neglect to at least a certain degree, because she was willing to kill her mum/let her die without much compunction (I THINK that's the implication of Elias' line about her mum's life insurance paying for her dad's care). To me (projecting), Melanie's fear of losing control of her own anger speaks to somebody who grew up in a volatile and probably physically violent home, and I suspect her mother was struggling to cope and lashing out at Melanie and her dad. (I also think that while it's unlikely to be made explicit because Jonny generally shies away from talking it writing about sexual abuse, that it's very probable that Melanie experienced adolescent sex abuse from some source and wasn't protected or supported. That's pure conjecture though based on how she acts.) I think she's definitely had issues with everyone in her family except her dad when it comes to her sexuality and that she's been largely estranged for a long time, and I think those are the kinds of things which, coupled with abuse and sidelining in adulthood, leave you with a lot of rage and nowhere to put it, and with a huge amount of difficulty trusting people. Undeniably, Melanie has been on the sharp end of other people's violent anger often enough to be really, really wary of ever giving her own anger free rein, or losing control of herself.

We don't know much about Daisy's childhood beyond what happened with Calvin (Pretty Damn Traumatic), but I think what I find interesting about Daisy is that she's definitely someone who, like many girls, struggled with that point in childhood where you're supposed to Stop Liking Boy (Fun) Things and Become A Girl. I think it's safe to say that Daisy was fairly subject to bullying and alienation in primary school, and I think people often overlook how badly that affects you your whole life. But also to be severely injured and traumatised, to tell people what happened, and to not be believed? That leaves marks. Marks that teach you that you can't trust that justice will be served, and you have to take the law into your own hands. I think there's also a lot of the Gendered Traumas happening around Daisy - she clearly has a conflicted relationship with femininity - but that's another post.

#tma meta #csa mention #abuse mention #jon sims #martin blackwood #melanie king #daisy tonner

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mauserfrau · 4 years ago

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Bordertober - Time For Two, Part 1

Tyreen’s view of waking up at Dr. Black’s. Contains medical/injury material, Tyreen being gross and some vaguely hinted at Troyreen. Note that Part 2 is shaping up to be more obvious about this. Probably nothing graphic, since I’m planning to recut all of the Dr. Black shorts into a single story. Oh, and I put her H/C post at the bottom.

Waking up at Dr. Black’s had been embarrassing more than anything else. She’d had no idea where she was the first few times she came around. There were now two holes in her torso and two in her right arms. She couldn’t do anything for herself. Ugh-- that part was the worst. Troy gave her a bath with fucking people wipes. She got sacks full of doped up skag pups and chickens for food. She did not get to toilet herself. Nope, stuck in bed except for leg stretches twice a day, no complaints, ring the bell if you need anything.

And then that woman, leaning over her, poking her with clamps and sounds because she couldn’t use her hands. Well, it took the fever rolling off of her for Tyreen to take notice of it, but Dr. Black seems to keep all of her dexterity in those fingers of hers. The rest of her had some mild form of dyskinesia, probably an old injury pretty far down her spine. It happened to make her look like easy prey, but Tyreen figurds not devouring the person who procured her pain meds might work out better in the long run.

Meds meaning she slept a lot. Actually, Tyreen wasn’t sure that she’d ever slept so much in her whole life. She spent most of the days under for a few restless hours at dawn or dusk spent ticking over a third-hand ECHO and feeling her guts lurch at random as the moon smirked down the operating theater skylight. She made it to the bottom of a music swapping forum she’d been eyeing and listened to old school synth jazz while reading Vonnegut or something called “Pirate AU Fanfiction” which she didn’t realize was derivative until she found the one starring Arthur Gordon Pym of all characters.

So it wasn’t like she was bored. Hell, the weird thrum of her body knitting back together could have kept her occupied.

The stillness in her bones though ached worse than her bullet wound.

Tyreen sighed. She ran her hand down her torso to the sore, bruised place trailing off from her entry wound. She pressed ever so lightly until her belly twinged and her toes curled.

This didn’t so much remind her of the fact she was going to be wearing a lovely S&S Munitions bullet for the rest of her life. It reminded her of that other itch she couldn’t scratch, the one that was going to take talking instead of prowling to fix.

~*~

Dr. Black at least took hints. Tyreen bitched at her about being woken up closer to noon than not exactly once. Next time? Dawn hadn’t even cracked

She got her vitals taken and her bandages changed. The IV came out and that was the only blood that leaked out of her that day. Her wrappings still got all sticky and rheumy, but they weren’t brown anymore in that way that kind of made her want to suck on them.

So, a lot of next times later, it finally happened: “Well, you’re healing up nicely if I do say so myself. What do you want to do first?”

Weird. Tyreen never asked Troy what he wanted to do when he started improving after a spell or a fall. She squinted at Dr. Black. “Is that a trick question?”

“Well, I don’t recommend BASE jumping for obvious reasons, but no?” Not that Dr. Black sounded sure of this.

“I need my hair washed. That dry shampoo made it all sandy and shit. Then I wanna go outside and, you know.”

“I’m out of chickens, sorry.”

Tyreen rolled her eyes. She’d actually meant piss on a fence post and scope out the best vantages for ambushes, but she was getting hungry too, so of course the woman had to mention. “Whatever. Hair first.”

“Well, your brother and me already figured out how to do that since you’re still not cleared to shower because germ transfer. Get ready.”

The two of them maneuvered her onto one of the rolling stools and pushed her into the kitchen rather than any of the bathrooms-- for a woman living alone, Dr. Black had at least three according to her hallway.

Tyreen’s impression of the kitchen was what it smelled of some unfamiliar grassy-brown spice and eggs. Most food didn’t tempt her anymore, but there was something about the whiff of a runny yolk that got her tongue to stir. Anyway, the stainless steel sink had been scrubbed out and Tyreen knew where this was going. She groaned.

She’d been all of four the last time anybody washed her hair for her, let alone in a sink. Sink salons were for babies.

Troy’s hand rested on her shoulder. “It’s just for a couple of times. What else have I been doing for you? And did the world end, Ty?”

“Fine. I want two washes and extra gooey stuff.” She meant conditioner, but she flicked her tongue over her lips pronouncing it gooey stuff like a drunk her.

Troy blinked way too hard, but he nodded and finished wheeling her over.

So much for innuendo getting her anyplace today. He was probably stuck in his own head for a change. Contemplating caring for her. Like it was… like it was that big of a deal after all the trash that had happened.

Just like when they worked on her, Dr. Black handed over the equipment and he used it, though this time, easy on the instructions.

Troy bundled her up in a towel, wet her and worked the first round of shampoo in slow, scratching over the residue on her scalp and using the dish sprayer to double rinse. The whole time he leaned over her, face tight with concentration. He wouldn’t look her in the eyes and Tyreen couldn’t say she wanted him too, not even when he went for the wet/dry trimmer and neatened up her unintentional undercut.

“You want anymore off?” he asked the window and not her.

“Just get the really messed up part in the back.”

“OK, turn.”

The hum of the trimmer felt kind of nice on her damp skin; that and the way he combed his fingers over her fuzz after, even though the next spritz got her free of snibbles, would have without his intervention.

For the conditioner, he let that set and combed her out, streaking the remains of her bangs down her forehead, then rubbing them away from her eyebrows when they got too close.

Tyreen sighed up at him.

Since she caught his eyes, he did manage something resembling a smile and his fingers dragged against her for the last round of rinsing.

With him and her both patted dry, she finally got hoisted back to a sitting position, her hair dropping once more down her cheeks before she reached up, scruffing it out and sneezing by some coincidence.

Dr. Black stifled a laugh.

Dr. Black

Dr. Black was a small, fat woman with a crooked jaw and a crooked smile and a penchant for wearing hoop skirts with no panties underneath.

-Says her full name is Calvin Decker Black

-Has at least one ex-husband and is possibly using his name???

-Probably not a doctor, but close enough

-Good at working with what she has; absolute kludge queen

--Has an affection for out-of-date equipment, but can run almost any test off of her ECHO. Somehow. Don’t ask. ---Speaking of which, carries the Twin’s genomes around on hers and has heavily notated them. Heaven forbid that got into the wrong hands.

---Recognizable ECHO device with a formal Delft print

--Sometimes uses medical equipment for secondary purposes, i.e. pointing with a sound, employing that nice steel vomit tray as a casserole

-Cheerful, enthusiastic, curious, bit of a spazz, insensible to gore.

--It’s possible to get her and Mouthpiece going at the same time. Mind your eardrums.

-Loves food. Pretty good cook. Rather more fond of food other people have prepared.

-No, she doesn’t eat her patients! Any human flesh stored in her fridge is from other people, you silly.

--Yeah, I can’t in good conscience recommend her ‘famous breakfast scramble’.

-What’s she doing in the CoV? She’s the person who walked Troy through patching up Tyreen after Satellite. They couldn’t leave her running around after that. Apparently joined their caravan without complaint and has been riding around with them ever since.

-Has been known to dress up and give sermons or go out in the field for negotiations.

--Ugh. Torture takes so long. Don’t make her do that. We could have steak instead.

-Is mostly still around for Troy mending purposes nowadays.

#bordertober #border-tober #borderlands 3 #fanfic #fanfiction #medical ccontent #tyreen being gross #Tyreen Calypso #Tyreen Calypso PoV #Troy Calypso #original character #oc: Dr. Black #vauge Troyreen #domesticity #also OC headcanon

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mendesnecessary · 6 years ago

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Calkin Klein couple

Summary: Y/n and Shawn are both famous, they met through a mutual friend, but never really got too close. The fans kept talking about how good they would look together, but it never crossed their minds...well, not enough to one of then make a move. But once they’re working in the new Calvin Klein ad things change.

Y/n and Shawn were not exactly what you can call friends. They were more like two people that once in a while hangout together thanks to their mutual friends. Shawn would probably consider her one, but she...well, she needed to get deep into someone before calling them a real friend.

And maybe that was the reason why Shawn was never able to get too close: y/n was too intense and he didn’t know how to act, what to say...he used to get too nervous around her and John was the first to realize it.

And things only get worse when Shawn was told that he would pose with her for the Calvin Klein campaign. So, let’s get the talk straight, one thing is to see her pictures on Instagram and how confident she was about her body, how she was doing a kind of revolution with the models standard, but another completely different was be by her side.

Usually, when their interactions happened it was between the friends, at least five of them around. Now it was only him and her.

Shawn was pretty sure that their fan bases would go crazy, taking from the fact that their mutual friends already made them kind of picture both together. “Aw, they would make such a badass couple” some would talk in the edits of them together, or “Can Shawn please go to the left and stay by y/n side” would be the talk of another in their group picture.

Yeah, fans were a little too creative sometimes.

“Shawn, are you in there?” one of the staffs asks the singer once he was in the doorway lost in his own thoughts.

He shakes his head giving a positive answer before y/n pass through the door

“Robby, what are we doing for today?” she was wearing a button up white shirt hanging open, making her Calvin Klein pants visible.

“I was about to tell Shawn...” the photographer answers “You two are gonna pretend to have fun while Shawn hold the camera in your direction”

“I would say nice to meet you or ‘hey, long time since we saw each other’ but we were out with our friends just a month ago” she jokes walking closer to Shawn and tiptoeing a little to let a kiss in his rosy cheeks.

“Funny, huh?” He holds his hands on his hips curling a little smile on his lips.

Y/n raises her eyebrows.

“Are you comfortable?? Cause if you’re not we can try to make it better.”

“What do you suggest?” he asks.

“Don’t think too much, ya know?! Don’t get into this about ‘I have to pretend to like her or have fun’, just do it and in the end, if it doesn’t work we try again.”

He nods and before Shawn could say ‘thanks’ Robby starts to tell them what to do.

“Ok, so Shawn you can start with the camera, y/n is waking up...”

“Robby, can I try something new?” she glances at the man that Shawn thought to be one of his friends. “If it doesn’t work we try your act”

“Fine, boss, go ahead” they share laughs and she walks to Shawn again.

“You stay in the sofa playing and singing the music of the campaign, I’m in the bed and I won’t tell more, we just let it happen, fine?”

“Fine”

And there he was on the sofa with the guitar in his lap, no shirt, just blue Calvin jeans which were open to show the white boxers.

“3, 2, 1...C’mon guys” Robby shouts starting to record.

Y/n is lying down in the bed, with a camera in hands, she pretends to look at some pics before Robby and the staffs take the focus to Shawn, once they come back to the woman she’s already sitting pointing it to Mendes.

They share a look and she smiles bitting her bottom lip. Shawn was scared of how pretty that sounded inside his head.

She walked to him, lifting the guitar and putting it in the ground beside the sofa. Y/n then took the place of the instrument, sitting in his lap and capturing with her own camera his face.

He had a question look in his eyes, like if he wants to know if it’s okay to touch her and y/n smiles, nodding her head. He holds her hips and she looks for stability with her free hand in his shoulders.

“That’s it, guys!” Robby vibrates “Now, Shawn take it off a little of her shirt, make the logo visible to our camera.”

Shawn slips his hand into her back carefully, he does exactly like Robby was wishing for and when the Calvin Klein bra is in a perfect angle y/n turns to face the cameraman.

Her curls swing with the wind that came from the window and Shawn holds them, making her body, once again, reach closer. She smiles and so does he. Both of then hear Robby cheers in the background but it’s like a new atmosphere. Their own space.

He leans in but stops when their breaths become one. Y/n closes her eyes and chuckles.

“What are you waiting for to kiss, pop star?”

It’s his turn to chuckle as he presses their lips together, forgetting about the shoot for some seconds. She lets her camera slips and falls on the ground as her hands go to hold his shoulders.

“Yeah, THIS, This is what I’m talking about!” Robbin once again cheers with the staff by his side. “Chemistry, such great chemistry.”

The comment it’s fast notice by the couple that break the kiss.

Neither of them talks about the kiss as they move to the second scenario where Shawn would wear only boxers and she would be in black jeans and bra. This was only photos and nothing more, so they didn’t have so much space to talk even tho their connection still works perfectly.

Some of the shoots would be Shawn and y/n looking at the camera and others would include both facing each other. His hands were comfortable with discovering the curves of her body and it makes the job easier since she was comfortable with his touch.

When the shoot was over they headed to change and go home, but when y/n opened her door Shawn was on the other side waiting.

“Hey” she smiles. “It was good working with you...”

“Yeah, I felt the same...” he puts his hands into his pocket and glances at her. “So, I was just curious, are you going to Brian’s party tonight?”

“I’m not sure, I just saw the guys last night...”

“But you didn’t saw me” he holds a smile and she raises her eyebrows.

“Oh?! So it’s about you, huh?!”

“You know...I get confident in #mycalvins.” Shawn jokes pointing to his jeans.

“Well...I hope you feel the same without them tonight. See you there, Shawn”

And with that, she leaves with a big tooth grim.

Like and reblog if you liked it <3

#Shawn mendes #Shawn #Shawn mendes one shot #Shawn mendes Calvin Klein #shawn mendes fluff #Shawn mendes the album #Shawn mendes blog #Shawn mendes ad #Shawnblr #Shawn blog #Shawn peter raul mendes #model!Shawn #Shawn mendes x reader

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rainydawgradioblog · 5 years ago

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Interview: Guerilla Toss - 09/26 @ the Vera Project

Guerilla Toss is a NYC-based experimental rock / synthpop / psychedelic / post-funk / prog-whatever / everything in between band signed to DFA records who is currently touring all throughout the continental US. This past Saturday, before their show with Calvin Johnson and Behavior at the Vera Project, my friend Anna and I were graciously invited into their tour van decked out with psychedelic decorations to chat with vocalist Kassie Carlson and hang out with her internet-famous Chow-Chow Watley. Enjoy the interview and catch them in these cities in the coming weeks!

Elliott: Hey! Thanks for taking the time to talk to me! How are you doing?

Kassie: Good, good! Just got done with soundcheck.

Elliott: Cool! How far into your tour are you guys at this point?

Kassie: Not that far actually, we’ve only done four dates or something, but we drove out here.

Elliott: That’s a long drive.

Anna: You guys just did Salt Lake, right?

Kassie: Yup, Diabolical Records. We were just in Portland, then Vancouver, then here.

Elliott: Cool, enough talking like a normal person, I’m gonna ask you a bunch of convoluted questions now. First of all, this bill is kind of wild, Calvin Johnson is another one of my favorite artists. How did this show come together? Are you guys big K Records fans?

Calvin Johnson and band opening the show.

Kassie: Calvin actually played at our light and projections person’s record store in Macon, GA. So that’s how we made the connection, and Calvin was really interested in coming here!

Watley gets up and walks around.

Elliott: Hi Watley!

Kassie: Sit! Watley…

Elliott: Have you had any other particularly cool openers this tour so far, or in recent memory?

Kassie: Well, the other opener tonight is Behavior, a couple members of Wand, the drummer and guitarist, so I’m really excited about that!

Elliott: Nice, I just saw Wand open for Stereolab!

Kassie: Cool, yeah, it’s an epic bill.

Elliott: I’m excited! I also noticed last time I saw you guys, you busted out a violin which was a bit unexpected but really cool! Are there any other instruments members play that you would maybe want to use on Guerilla Toss stuff?

Kassie: I also recently got an OP-1, which has been cool to experiment with. There’s lots of sounds, and this guy Cuckoo on Patreon puts a lot of samples for the OP-1 online for super cheap, like you can buy stuff for a dollar. He always puts up new stuff, so I’ve been getting down that rabbit hole, but yeah! I’ll be playing it tonight, it should be fun!

Anna: That’s a difficult purchase to make these days! Those things are not easy to come by.

Kassie: Yeah, me and the drummer split it. And we got it on eBay or something, it was used.

Anna: Those things are great.

Elliott: I’ve also heard you guys like to do band hikes. I also interviewed your friends Palberta on Rainy Dawg a while ago…

Watley steps on voice recorder, and tries to get out of the van door.

Kassie: Watley!

Elliott: Haha! Anyway… Palberta told me they bring a rice cooker and camp every night on tour. Are there any other activities people typically forgo on tour that you like to make time for?

Kassie: Yeah, we just went to Moab on this tour, to the arches. It’s good to get out of the van and stretch your legs a bit. That was fun. It’s cool to drive around, sometimes there’s not time to do the hiking thing, but we took some days off this time around so we’re not in the car for 8 hours. It’s good for morale.

Anna: Moab especially, it’s so nice.

Kassie: Yeah I’d never been, so it was cool to make it out there.

Elliott: So, it feels lately like vocals being more forefront in recent material, that the music is driven more by lyrics and melody. I got into you guys via Gay Disco, but my favorite of yours is GT Ultra. It feels like my experience as a listen has changed a lot, you cover a lot of ground in that there’s different ways to enjoy Guerilla Toss as a listener. Do you feel like your writing process has significantly changed?

Kassie: Well we’ve mostly just been shifting things around and trying different things to keep it fresh. It’s lots of fun, yeah!

Elliott: And about writing stuff, I know you’re very into jamming, you improv a lot live. Does writing material ever come out of that?

Kassie: We mostly just improv between songs. They’re all through-composed, and all have parts that are pretty specific. Sometimes we’ll write songs by jamming for a few hours, but a lot of the time, say Peter (drummer) will come in with a part of a song, or a skeleton of a song, or even a full song, which is how it’s mostly been lately, and then I’ll put some vocals on it, and we’ll try different things, different instrumentation.

Anna: Are there any members that bring more in terms of song structure?

Kassie: Definitely Peter brings the most, but I do all the vocals, everyone does their respective parts.

Elliott: Cool! Do you have a particular favorite piece of gear? Anything that might have inspired a song or a moment in a song?

Kassie: Yeah, I have a red Boss V-20 vocal pedal, that I use a lot and I really like. I use it for harmonies, there’s chorus on there, there’s delay and reverb, harmonies and doubling. I feel like it just helps my voice feel a lot thicker and more present, you know. It gives me more control over my sound. A lot of the time in venues, especially DIY venues, it can get buried. And also I want to be more true to the recording, like in “Betty Dreams of Green Men,” there’s those harmonies that come in off and on, so I use the pedal to create that harmony.

Anna: And what you said about DIY shows, getting sounds that are accurate. Do you play a lot of stuff like that now?

Kassie: No, not as much lately. But even in bars and stuff, it can be tough. We don’t travel with a sound person, we’re not playing stadiums.

Anna: Is that a shift that you miss at all?

Kassie: Not really. I like being able to hear myself when I sing, so it doesn’t hurt my voice as much. Of course I love the vibe of DIY venues but there’s good things in the middle, where your friends from DIY shows will come, but it won’t get shut down, and we have money for gas and stuff like that.

Elliott: Gas money is definitely important.

Trucks passing by.

Kassie: Watley’s scared of the trucks…

Elliott: So I have a question that’s part fun fact, part question. Your Wikipedia page, where it says you encourage tapers at your show, it used to say you encouraged tapirs, like the weird little animal. It was a typo but it actually linked to the tapir page!

Kassie: Oh weird! I didn’t notice but that is sick.

Elliott: Yeah, someone actually linked it to the page!

Kassie: That’s awesome!

Elliott: So that got me thinking, there probably haven’t been many tapirs at Guerilla Toss shows, but I think it would be sick! What sort of animals would you want to see at a Guerilla Toss shows? Also, these hypothetical animals have all the hypothetical ear protection they need.

Kassie: A lot more chows! We also really like otters. We were talking a lot during our soundcheck about snails. So snails would be cool. Snails all over the place. But really animal would be interesting!

Anna: Species-inclusive venue!

Kassie: Yeah! Oh, and bison, Watley loves bison. A few cows. He loves cows, he’s always looking at me like “Mom, did you see that? Woah, look there’s cows!” Yeah, good boy!

Elliott: Does Watley have a favorite Guerilla Toss song? Is he gonna get a feature anytime soon?

Kassie: He might actually, yeah!

Anna: A bark sample, that must be fun to work with on the OP-1!

Kassie: Yeah, that’s one of the many things that are on my to-do list for sure.

Elliott: Hell yeah, I’m stoked for that whenever it happens. You guys seem to have a lot of collabs, one-off releases, live albums, splits and stuff. Do you usually come into those thinking “we’re gonna write an album” or just a song, or working with somebody, or is your writing process usually the same for those?

Kassie: We usually just create a whole album, we only did that one split with the Sediment Club. The live album was a cool project, that was completely live, we recorded it in Nashville.

Elliott: You also have that remix album with Jay Glass Dubs?

Kassie: Oh yeah, that was just a DFA thing, he totally did that himself.

Elliott: Cool! So visuals are clearly an important part of Guerilla Toss, I was wondering if you look at these different forms of visuals in the same way, like do you tie in live projections, music videos, album art or do you view them separately?

Kassie: They’re kinda separate. Lots of different people do our album art. Keith Rankin did a few, the most recent one was by someone named Yu Maeda, and before that was Jacob van Loon, he did Twisted Crystal. And then GT Ultra is actually acid strips from the 70s.

Anna: That one was a particularly cool design. Do you mostly reach out to the artists to do the art?

Kassie: Thank you! And yeah, it’s usually something they already have done that we use, but a couple of the ones from Keith Rankin were commissions.

Elliott: Cool! So, I feel like your albums tend to have a coherent sonic palette, but they cover a lot of ground as far as the songs go. Do you come into recording an album with a bunch of songs you’ve written or do you write specifically for an album?

Kassie: I think Peter is pretty much always writing music, and we already have new music we’re working on for after What Would The Odd Do, so it’s just kind of a constant stream of stuff, lots of never-ending recording and never-ending writing.

Elliott: Cool, well I didn’t write anything else down.

Kassie: Alright! Any other random questions?

Elliott: Not that I can think of. I’m excited to see you guys play!

Kassie: Hell yeah!

Anna: Actually, I usually ask touring bands this. What kind of stuff have you been listening to on the way over?

Kassie: Oh all kinds of things! Listened to a little Battles.

Elliott: Oh nice! The new one, Juice B Crypts?

Kassie: All of the albums! I think it was a consensus that we liked the earlier albums better, but hey, that’s something people always say. I like it all! It’s pretty cool.

Elliott: Cool, well thank you for letting us in the van and talking with us!

Kassie: Of course! Can you unhook that leash?

Elliott: Sure!

Kassie: (to Watley) Let’s go pee!

- Elliott Hansen

#guerilla toss #dfa records

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preserving-ferretbrain · 6 years ago

Text

Harry Potter and the Doctrine of the Calvinists

by Dan H

Friday, 17 August 2007

Dan refuses to just give up on the Potter articles already.~

A lot of people are mortally offended by the ending of the Narnia series, because it seems to suggest that Susan's absolute rejection of all the teachings of Christ prevents her from getting into heaven. I actually like it for exactly that reason: it's got a firm grounding in a genuine religious philosophy which I find significantly more interesting than the usual messages one gets from children's literature, or popular fiction in general.

This, of course, is why it seems so crazy to the secular reader. It's based on some profound assumptions about the metaphysical reality of the world, and if you don't believe the world works like that it doesn't make any sense. Many atheists (and a fair number of Christians, for that matter) have a hard time getting their heads around the idea that you can be a perfectly decent person, but still not go to heaven.

Even more difficult for atheists like me to get our heads around are the doctrines of the Calvinists. Very roughly (from my limited understanding) the Calvinists embrace fully the idea that it is impossible for any human being to be truly worthy of God's love. God is just that great and we are just that flawed. This is actually comparatively uncontroversial - it's just a firm statement of the idea that salvation comes wholly from the Grace of God, and not from your individual virtue. The Calvinists take this idea to its logical conclusion: that since obviously not everybody can be saved, God's grace will only fall on a small proportion of the population - the Elect. Since nobody can be worthy of God, whether one is or is not part of the Elect is entirely outside of one's own control. There are just some people who are predestined towards salvation, and some who aren't.

Now it would be easy here to score cheap points and say that this is just somebody using religion as a control mechanism, pretending that the reason he's so much better off than everybody else is because God likes him better. But that's actually not massively plausible. After all, when Calivinist doctrine was first developed, the Calvinists weren't exactly ruling the roost.

Calvinism is actually a fairly logical extension of one of the more difficult points of protestant doctrine: the idea of salvation by grace. People seem to be uncomfortable with the idea that drawing closer to a supernatural being who transcends all of the concerns of physical reality might actually not be the same thing as being nice to people. Perhaps it's just overexposure to classical mythology at an impressionable age, but I don't find it that hard to understand. I somehow can't imagine a classical theologian saying "but why would the Gods be so angry about Prometheus stealing fire? Why do we worship them if they're so mean?" or a Viking saying "I'm sure that Odin will understand that you wanted to die valiantly in battle."

I think that perhaps the reason people find the ideas expressed in - say - Calvinist theology, or The Last Battle is that, since we live in a secular society, we naturally divorce these kinds of ideas from their supernatural context. For example: burning at the stake was actually supposed to be a merciful form of execution, because it allowed the accused the maximum possible amount of time to repent. If you genuinely believe in an immortal soul, this is actually very sensible. Far better to burn somebody to death slowly, giving them a chance to go to heaven, than to cut their head off and condemn them to hell. To somebody who doesn't believe in an afterlife, though, it's needless cruelty.

When you decontextualise the doctrines or practices of a religion, you invariably make them into something extremely sinister and disturbing.

Which is why Harry Potter freaks me out so much.

JK Rowling self-defines as a Christian. More specifically, she was apparently raised Church of Scotland which, the internet reliably informs me, has strong Calvinist influences. If this is true, then it seems that Rowling has allowed her faith to strongly influence her work. Unfortunately she has also allowed it to become so decontextualised as to be unrecognisable.

Let us take the principle of Election, the notion that there are a fortunate few who, by grace of God, shall be called to salvation. In the Potterverse "Election" is called "Sorting" and instead of being controlled by Almighty God it is controlled by a hat.

Now I know Rowling pays lip service to the houses all being equal, but it's nonsense. Gryffindor is the superior house, all the way. Rowling herself declares not only that she would want to be in Gryffindor if she attended Hogwarts but also that she "hopes she would be found worthy."

So basically at the age of eleven, your fate is already sealed. Either you're Gryffindor, or you're evil, or you're chattel. You can't change, you can't be redeemed (unless you've already had the good fortune to fall in love with a Gryffindor) you are either Good or you are Evil or you Just Don't Matter and none of your decisions, none of your actions, mean a damned thing. No matter how much of a bullying little shit James Potter was, we are never really asked to see him as anything but a hero. Lily treats Snape like dirt, but is still the byword for selfless love in the series. And of course Dumbledore, our epitome of goodness, is a manipulative self-serving bastard who plots world domination and raises Harry to be a sacrificial lamb. But in the end we are expected to view all of these people as heroes because they were Gryffindors and therefore virtuous by definition.

Then of course there is Snape. After nearly twenty years of loyal service to Dumbledore, risking death or worse to spy on the Dark Lord, and incidentally building up a loyal fanbase who for some reason think that being smart is cooler than owning a flying motorcycle, JK Rowling eventually grants him the ultimate accolade. "Sometimes, we sort too soon." If a member of a different house displays courage, it shows that they must really be a Gryffindor deep down.

Rowling clearly subscribes to the philosophy that a person has a fundamental nature. That deep down a person cannot change. Deep down Harry is a hero, Percy is officious, Voldemort is Evil, Snape is a bully, Dumbledore is good but tempted by power. None of these traits will change, none of them can change. Rowling seems to believe it impossible.

This is most apparent, I think, in how she writes about Harry. It is never his actions. which win him praise, but rather the spirit in which he acts. This is perhaps most apparent in the seventh book, when Harry uses the Cruciatus curse on Amycus Carrow and McGonagall responds with the statement that it is "very gallant" of him.

Now I admit I might be a little bit behind the times here, but how is torturing your enemies "gallant"? Presumably in the same way that a single minded obsession with the personal destruction of your enemies has something to do with "love".

But my objections here are based on a false assumption: on the assumption that a person's moral character (their salvation, their redemption) is in any way affected by their actions. In Rowling's world it is not, and this is a deliberate and conscious theme throughout the books. Harry performs the same actions as other characters, but because he is by nature pure, his actions are actions of goodness, not of evil.

Even further proof that Harry's goodness is nothing to do with his actions - or indeed even his personality - but is instead some kind of elemental property comes from this rather interesting quote, regarding the fact that Voldemort had hope of salvation:

"Because he had taken into his body this-- this drop of hope or love (Harry's blood). So that meant that if he could have mustered the courage to repent, he would have been okay. But, of course, he wouldn't. And that's his choice."

Now there's two interesting things here. The first is that Voldemort's hope came literally from Harry's blood. Voldemort is not a person, Harry is not a person. Harry is a vessel full of Hope and Love in distilled form. No matter how many people he tortures or brutalises, he will always have Hope and Love in his very blood. It is physical contact with Harry's blood that gave Voldemort his one chance of redemption.

The second, subtler point is this one:

"But, of course, he wouldn't. And that's his choice."

Notice that she uses the words "of course" and "his choice" in the same sentence. And this is the point I find most interesting.

If you ever try to argue that JK Rowling is a slavering determinist, people always pull out two facts. Firstly, there's the fact that Harry "chose" not to be placed in Slytherin. Secondly, there's this extremely interesting line by Dumbledore.

"It is our choices Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."

Now I hope it doesn't look like I'm being obsessive here, but I think it's extremely telling that Dumbledore uses the phrase "show what we truly are" and not " say "decide what we become." Dumbledore is telling us, quite clearly, that who we are never changes, that the decisions we make in our lives serve only to illuminate our natures, which are otherwise immutable.

So Voldemort could never have been redeemed. He was given the chance to "try for some remorse" but there was never any realistic expectation that he would be able to. Indeed we are told repeatedly throughout the series that Voldemort is not capable of love. Not that he hasn't known love, that he has never experienced love, that he is literally incapable of it.

A choice, to Rowling, is not a chance to control one's own destiny, but a chance to show your quality. The outcome of a choice is predetermined. Voldemort would never have chosen redemption, so he had no chance of redemption, no matter how much of Harry's Magic Blood he had pumping through him.

I started this article talking about Calvinist Election, and by mentioning that "atheists like me" find it a rather disturbing concept. I think a big thing that people find uncomfortable is the idea that "the Elect" get to strut around being all superior, just because some random fluke made them God's Chosen. This is of course not how it works. The whole point of Election is that no one man is more worthy of salvation than any other, that any who are saved, are saved by the grace of God, not by their own merits. Within Calvinist philosophy being "chosen" doesn't make you better than anybody else, it just gives you one extra reason to thank God.

Rowling's world, however, really does work the way atheists perceive Calvinist Election as working. Harry is arbitrarily singled out as being "special" or "chosen" and this literally does make him better than other people. Harry is as incorruptible as Voldemort is irredeemable. Harry's choices will always be the right ones, not because of his moral character but because the world itself will change to accommodate him. He can withstand the Imperius Curse, he can see into the mind of the Dark Lord, yet remain uncorrupted by it, he can unite the Deathly Hallows. Even when he actively seeks to bring pain and death to his enemies, it is somehow virtuous. Because Harry is Just That Awesome.

JK Rowling has said, in interview:

"My beliefs and my struggling with religious belief and so on I think is quite apparent in this book."

And apparent it is. The culmination of the Harry Potter series reads like the scrabbling of a Cultural Christian, trying to construct a moral framework out of fragments of doctrine she does not entirely understand or believe. Half-formed ideas about faith and destiny and redemption and death collide producing a result that is mostly simplistic, and occasionally sacrilegious.

The quasi-Christian overtones make some parts of the book genuinely incoherent. At times Harry's faith in Dumbledore is presented as almost akin to faith in God. He sets forth on his great journey, after all, knowing virtually nothing and Trusting That Dumbledore Would Provide. Indeed the Dumbledore-as-Divinity concept is a strong theme from the very start. It is very frequently Harry's Faith in Dumbledore that truly saves the day (most explicitly in Chamber of Secrets). The entire subplot with Dumbeldore's backstory is presented almost as Harry's last test of Faith.

And of course if Dumbledore is God, then this naturally casts Harry in the role of Jesus: walking amongst the unbelievers, spreading His word, facing persecution and ultimately death. A sacrifice made in perfect Love to redeem the sins of the Wizarding World.

Except that Dumbledore isn't God, he's just a guy, so having unwavering faith in him isn't laudable, it's blind fanaticism. And Harry doesn't sacrifice himself to save Hogwarts, he sacrifices himself to kill Voldemort. Hell, Rowling even admits that after book 6, if Harry looked into the Mirror of Erised he would see "Voldemort finished, dead, gone". His deepest desire is not to protect his friends, or even to live a normal life, but to kill the guy who killed his parents.

It's a mess, and the fact that it's a mess is probably the saddest thing of all. Rowling so clearly wanted to say something big about faith, about love, and about death, but all she has managed to do is communicate her own confuson.Themes:

J.K. Rowling

Books

Young Adult / Children

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Wardog

at 09:34 on 2007-08-17And obviously you have the whole sacramental thing of Voldemort receiving Harry's blood, or rather refusing the salvation contained within it... euw.

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Arthur B

at 11:11 on 2007-08-17I think you can also see attitudes towards predestination in her view of herself and her work. I was watching her original publisher on TV the other day talking about how he advised her to get a day job, because very very few people can actually make a living on children's books, and how she simply said she was very confident that HP would be successful. Which turned out to be right, of course, but there's no way anyone could have predicted exactly how much the HP books took off (and arguably they didn't become

really

massive until

Prisoner of Azkaban

). I know, I know, most authors probably harbour hopes that they'll be able to live off their soon-to-be-published novel and ditch the day job, it's human nature to be optimistic - but it's also human nature to harbour a deep-seated worry that your book might just flop. Rowling has never shown any evidence of the latter.

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Dan H

at 14:49 on 2007-08-17This is, I think, also evidence of Ms Rowling's deeply fucked up priorities. Having faith in yourself is one thing, but she had a fucking *kid* to support. You think she'd give some thought to how the poor bastard was going to eat.

Also: Fun exercise for your spare time. Re-read the chapter entitled "Horcruxes" in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. It's as fucked up as all hell. It's where Dumbledore explains that Harry Potter hating Voldemort and wanting to kill him is evidence of his deep capacity for love.

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Arthur B

at 16:08 on 2007-08-17Care to summarise? I don't have the Half-Blood Prince and don't intend to read it - as far as I can tell, it's the big waterslide that dumps the reader in the sewer of

Deathly Hallows

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Dan H

at 16:23 on 2007-08-17Lets see, choice quotes from that chapter include:

"If Voldemort had never murdered your father, would he have implanted in you a furious desire for revenge?"

And of course

"You have never been seduced by the Dark Arts, never, even for a second, shown the slightest desire to become one of Voldemort's followers!"

"Of course I haven't," said Harry indignantly. "He killed my mum and dad!"

"You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!" said Dumbledore loudly.

And

"Imagine, please just for a moment that you had never heard that prophecy! How would you feel about Voldemort now? Think!"

"I'd want him finished," said Harry quietly. "And I'd want to do it."

That's your shining beacon of love folks: an angry little man driven by pure hatred and the desire for personal vengeance.

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Arthur B

at 16:33 on 2007-08-17That's hilarious. It's like Dumbledore is dozing his way through a speech and isn't actually listening to what Harry is saying.

"So, Harry, what will you do if you defeat Voldemort?" asked Dumbledore.

"I will become an Auror and turn the Ministry of Magic into a terrifying machine devoted to exterminating House Slytherin. I will use Unforgivable Curses like they were party tricks. I will break every single rule regulating magical law enforcement in my pursuit of the Slytherin menace."

"Oh Harry, you truly are a fountain of love and forgiveness!"

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Dan H

at 16:38 on 2007-08-17It's even worse than that: he's paying absolute attention to what Harry's saying, but deep down he's thinking "bwahahaha, see how I have manipulated this boy into believing that his childish desire to lash out at Lord Voldemort is a noble and selfless act! Now he is certain to do exactly as I wish while I arrange his death!"

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Arthur B

at 16:47 on 2007-08-17Yeah. You know how I said how Harry walking to his own death in order to be the messiah was the act of a paranoid schizophrenic? I take that back. Orchestrating your own death and the death of your protege because you firmly believe that a) this will let you defeat the greatest evil in the world and b) this is how you think the Truest Love works is the act of a paranoid schizophrenic megalomaniac.

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lessofthat

at 01:04 on 2007-08-28If only it were. It sounds more to me like the act of a man with no discernible personality traits whatsoever. I wonder how the books would read if you quietly ctrl-H'ed every instance of the word 'destiny' with the word 'plot'.

Hemmens, you've skewered the woman precisely and with brio, and you deserve applause, but how in the name of fuck was all this - except the ugly suicide cult business you mention in the previous piece - not visible from the downslope of book 3?

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Arthur B

at 09:26 on 2007-08-28I think people still had some faith that Rowling would pull off some brilliant plot twist and the series wouldn't go in the direction that it was obviously going, and in fact did. To be fair, for the first four books she was able to surprise me with the endings - I didn't expect Bloke With Turban to have Lord Voldemort pasted to the back of his head, I didn't expect that Tom Riddle was anything other than a horrible sneak called Tom Riddle, I hadn't guessed that the Goblet of Fire would be a teleportation trap. The third book is the best example of this, where the climactic encounter with Sirius Black you're expecting is still fifty-odd pages away happens early, before our heroes are even slightly ready.

Book 5, conversely, is pretty much devoid of surprises. In books 1-4 the titular thing - the Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, the Prisoner of Azkaban, the Goblet of Fire - is a mysterious object, place or person which is the key to the mystery the book covers. The Order of the Phoenix, conversely, is carefully explained early on in book 5 and isn't really especially relevant or important.

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lessofthat

at 10:57 on 2007-08-28Even her critics admit that Rowling does a good plot, but her creepy ideology and incoherent philosophy - her apparent belief that moral goodness is something you're born to, like the aristocracy, or that happens to you, like celebrity - has been visible for years.

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Arthur B

at 11:41 on 2007-08-28True, but until now people could always console themselves with the possibility that the whole goodness-by-selection deal was meant to be a Big Lie which was going to be exposed in the last book. In fact, the bit in

Deathly Hallows

where Harry struggles with the new facts he knows about Dumbledore could have been an excellent opportunity for Harry's worldview to be seriously challenged, but Rowling squandered the opportunity by having Harry's worldview be the correct one all along.

There was plenty of reason for bile and invective to be thrown in Rowling's general direction after books 5 and 6, and several decent causes for complaint after 4. I think the reason the flood has happened now, as opposed to earlier, is that with the publication of book 7 there is now no opportunity for Rowling to redeem the series.

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Wardog

at 15:00 on 2007-08-28I'm not actually sure all this stuff *has* been visible; it's been *there* but that's not quite the same thing. A lot of people (self included, at least until 6) assumed it was all building up into something quite dark and interesting. And don't we feel like idiots now.

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lessofthat

at 16:05 on 2007-08-28The more interesting question then is "what rendered it invisible?"

What surprises me is that everyone here dissing Rowling seems to have reached the same conclusions as I did, and articulated them rather better than I ever managed to, but inexplicably read all the way to the end before doing so. What dazzled you in the meantime? Was it just the plot, or were there promises of complexity in Harry and his gang that I overlooked?

I'd particularly like to know because I might then be able to reverse-engineer some kind of cure and inject it into the friend who told me last week '[book 7] is a fucking triumph and we're lucky to have her'. Or at least understand what the hell's going on with that.

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Arthur B

at 16:24 on 2007-08-28For my part, I was assuming (until book 5) that Rowling was going to pull the same start with the overarching plot of the series that she did with books 1-4 - specifically, try her hardest to trick the reader into thinking that a particular thing was going to happen, and then pull the rug out from under them. Sure, it was pretty obvious that we were going to have a ludicrous final battle in Hogwarts between Harry and Voldemort, and that Harry would prove to be the Chosen One by virtue of his amazing feat of surviving to his first birthday, but in the early Potter books whenever something's

that

obvious it usually isn't true.

Rowling's a one-trick pony, but she's pretty good at the narrative misdirection trick. It's why you had fans suggesting with a straight face that Dumbledore was actually Ron from the future; people realise that Rowling often throws out sudden plot twists, especially when the plot seems to be fairly straightforward, and the fans had plenty of fun coming up with convoluted ideas of what would happen at the conclusion.

Rowling's biggest misdirection was tricking people into thinking that the things which were obviously going to transpire in the HP series would not, in fact, come to pass.

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empink

at 03:32 on 2007-08-29@lessofthat

I think that sometimes, you just don't *see* the bad points of a book for whatever reason. Everyone I know can speak to hating or at least disliking a book that they loved a while ago- it's the same sort of thing at work, or at least the same set of forces. For some reason, you may just want to enjoy a book so badly that you ignore its rough corners. Or you aren't yet adept at recognising those rough corners yet, so they pass you by. Or you weren't really paying much attention, and everything seems all right to your friends, and everything seems all right in (faulty) hindsight, so you jump at the next chance to read more from the same author.

All of that is far, far more pronounced when there is a lot of strong emotion sloshing around about a book or story or creative endeavour. You're either caught up in the hype to some extent, invest in it and suddenly realise it matters to you because your investment in it feels a lot sillier if it doesn't matter to you, or you're not and you wonder why the hell everyone's losing their heads over the whole thing.

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Wardog

at 21:17 on 2007-08-29Agreed, empink.

The first three books, at least, have advantages to balance their disadvantages. They're not great literature (but then, what is?) but they're reasonably well-written, tautly plotted, genuinely amusing and occasionally, as Arthur points out above, quite surprising. I remember being quite startled that Snape wasn't, in fact, the bad guy of book 1 and I was quite impressed at the rather morally complex position he occupied in what was obviously a children's a book: at that stage in the game, he's good but not nice which is interesting for a children's book.

Also, as empink observes, the problems aren't really pronounced enough to add up to anything coherently problematic. Dan could never have written this article based off the first few books. I remember Harry seemed rather bland but nobody cared - he was a hero and heroes are meant to Save The World not be interesting and they were plenty of nice secondary characters to shine well when set against Harry's lack of personality. And the fact that Snape *wasn't* the bad guy seemed to suggest that Slytherin - despite the bad press - weren't basically evil, again suggesting a potentially morally layered universe. As the books progresses the houses, for example, become more and more simplified. I always thought well of the potrayal of Cedric Diggory (from book VI). I mean, he's a Hufflepuff, but he's clever AND brave AND abmitious. I always thought that might be trying to say something worthwhile.

Of course it wasn't.

Also the later books are all about shutting down avenues of interpretation - the early books are a glorious free-for-all. Because they're not sprawling information dumps, the glimpses of the world they offer are subtle and intriguing - perhaps it's just evidence of how lame we are but we used to spend hours discussing Harry Potter in the pub, wondering what this and that meant, and what was going to happen, and who such and such a character was.

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Arthur B

at 22:11 on 2007-08-29Slytherin is a particularly good example, actually. From the very beginning, Rowling has been adamant that the Slytherins aren't all evil. The internal evidence of the books seems to correspond with that, right up until the end when whoosh! Basically every Slytherin student and teacher turns Quisling and helps the Death Eaters stomp all over Hogwarts. The one exception is Snape, and it's notable that at the very end Harry names his kid after Snape because of Snape's courage - the Griffindor virtue, not traditionally anything to do with Slytherin.

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lessofthat

at 10:23 on 2007-08-30Fair enough. Looking back, I can remember that sense that though the first three were flawed, there was something a bit different about them; the Slytherins had that aristocracy-of-hell feel that old guard Tories like Heseltine do (they may be scum, but they're engaging scum and you know where you are with them); Snape was, as Kyra says, not bad but not nice. I remember even being faintly impressed that Rowling knew what colour a philosopher's stone would be, but that she didn't feel the need to regurgitate all the matching alchemical background. It suggested she'd bothered to do the research but wore it lightly.

I wasn't that impressed though. I also remember reading a quote by some publishing type on the back of the first book way back in like '98, to the effect that future generations of children will talk about Diagon Alley the way past ones talked about the Hundred Acre Wood or, I don't know, Byker Grove or something. I thought that was ridiculous hyperbole. I suppose that's why he's a publishing type and I'm not, because how wrong was I.

@empink. The hype and social enthusiasm bypassed me, largely for reasons of grumpiness I suppose. So that's a powerful inoculating factor too.

Again, I guess that Harry's abject blandness was less apparent in his pre-teenage years. I don't really understand children, so absence of personality in them is less troublesome. I imagine that's true of other people too.

"the problems aren't really pronounced enough to add up to anything coherently problematic." I still disagree - I think the Choosing Hat alone is a particularly repellent embodiment of the English class system - but I think I have a better idea of why bright, sane people were distracted enough not to be bothered.

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Arthur B

at 13:16 on 2007-08-30On Harry's personality: half the reason book 5 lost me was that Harry became a repugnant, grumpy teenager. He was a well-observed repugnant teen, and I can just about barely remember what it was like being one myself, but there's a reason most people don't want to hang out with such oiks once they get over puberty, and that's because they're completely awful to be around.

In the earlier books his main personality trait was utter confusion and occasional amazement and wonder when regarding the world he'd been thrust into, which worked nicely with his role as the character we see the world through. It's a good device for the first three-or-so books, but it couldn't have been maintained for the entire series - nobody would have bought it if Rowling had tried to have Harry still be completely bowled over by the awesomeness of the wizarding world when he's lived in it for over half a decade - but it's a crying shame she didn't have anything particularly good to replace it with.

Re: the Sorting Hat - in the early books, I could accept the Sorting Hat as being a nice pastiche of the apparently arbitrary nature kids get assigned to classes and houses in secondary school. I could convince myself that the Hat essentially took a quick look at the students' personalities and flung them into whichever House seemed to have the most suitable internal culture for them, and the different characters of the Houses were a result of a self-perpetuating internal culture that the Hat just reinforced. It eventually became brutally apparent that the Hat is essentially a living filter for the Elect, and that being chosen as Gryffindor by the Hat is essentially an absolute vote of confidence in your moral integrity, but it took a while; again, it wasn't until book 5 that I realised that we'd never seen

one

single person who didn't fit in perfectly in their House, and

come on

: just because you're hard-working or brave or ambitious at 11 doesn't mean that's still going to be the case when you're 15.

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empink

at 13:19 on 2007-08-30@lessofthat I don't really understand children, so absence of personality in them is less troublesome. I imagine that's true of other people too.

SO TRUE.

I still disagree - I think the Choosing Hat alone is a particularly repellent embodiment of the English class system

That's what I would have said after reading it. I can't remember how many times I wanted to point at JKR's treatment of the women in her book (married, had babies, or wanted to, or died, or died regardless, or were ugly, unsexy and old) and ask people what they thought was up with THAT. Then again, I remember how much less that would have pinged me a year or two ago, when I was still supposedly not a feminist. Snape's "I see no difference" feels particularly apt in this case. Until you *do* see the difference, or have it pointed out to you in a way you can't bring yourself to ignore, you...don't. And to others who do, you either look like a huge, defensive jackass, or like Stupid of the century. And to others who don't, you are Sane McGrateful for the author's bounty. And even that's simplifying the whole thing, but really, that's how it seems to have worked in my corner so far.

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Dan H

at 00:40 on 2007-09-07Sorry I haven't commented: No internet.

In short, the reason that it took me a while to realise that Rowling was espousing a repulsive moral philosophy is that the series went through a massive genre shift between (roughly) books four and five, and assumptions which are perfectly acceptable in a boarding school romp have no place in a serious story about love and death and choices.

I always saw the Sorting Hat as being a metaphor for the cliques you get at school. The Slytherins are the privileged popular kids, the Ravenclaw are the swots, Hufflepuff are everybody else. Gryffindor - in the early books - was essentially just "the hero and his mates". There's comparatively little evidence that Gryffindors are *objectively* superior in the early books - there's just Harry's natural tendency to side with his friends. Indeed in the early books there's a fair number of dodgy Gryffindors (like Peter Pettigrew) and admirable non-Gryffindors (like Cedric Diggory and, arguably, Snape). In book five we even discover that James Potter was a bullying little shit. By the start of book six, things actually looked reasonably complex, and rather grown up. The last two books, though, took all of that apart. The Slytherins all leave in the final battle, James Potter wasn't a bully at all, he was just mad at Snape because he called Lily Potter a bad name, and we are asked to take Harry's desire for vengeance as evidence of his moral superiority.

Essentially I didn't find the early books morally repulsive, because I didn't think they were trying to make any kind of moral statement beyond "it is good to stick by your friends" and possibly "believe in yourself". The whole business with Sorting and predestination was just a convenient plot device to give the hero a set of allies and enemies. Early Potter doesn't advocate predeterminism any more than the Lord of the Rings advocates genocide.

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https://me.yahoo.com/a/tjLTVHEducFb4rKDHU5DukBHtQcCbTVMEEq55v0CxV4-#5e156

at 11:32 on 2009-08-09Aw come on Hemmens, don't you think getting that level of publicity could have turned your head like it did JKR's? I don't blame her for over reaching herself and her abilities given the phenomenal publicity she received. I shudder to think what it would have done to my mind!

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Robinson L

at 00:30 on 2009-08-11

I don't blame her for over reaching herself and her abilities given the phenomenal publicity she received. I shudder to think what it would have done to my mind!

Sure it's understandable for fame to go to her head. Doesn't make the results any less execrable.

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http://lunabell14.myopenid.com/

at 22:42 on 2010-07-27Actually, in Order of the Phoenix, during the sorting hat song, it sings this line (credit from Mugglenet):

For instance, Slytherin Took only pure-blood wizards Of great cunning, just like him

So basically, Rowling admits even earlier that Slytherins are all racist, and therefore the bad guys. I remember this kind of bugged me when I read it, since there is definitely no relationship between being cunning and being pure-blood. And you would think since Voldemort and Snape could by-pass the pure-blood rule, they would get rid of that criteria.

But honestly, I don't see how she can get credit for complex characterization when there such sweeping generalizations about Gryffindors and Slyterins. Especially when some of the good guys show what I consider some very questionable morality (such as Harry crucio-ing the Death Eater over nothing, Dumbledore being a manipulative dick, etc.)

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http://prue84.livejournal.com/

at 23:06 on 2011-02-20I've avidly read this articol and how hell, how you are right!

I admit I'm never been Harry fan (I'm a "Slytherin" person because I feel I fell in that house - not a fan because they're the evil!), but this articole make me even less fan of Harry.

I'd also like to point out what I feel about Draco/Malfoys and Ron/Weasleys: they are basically the same, as both the families are racist but, when Draco say something nasty about Ron (usually something about being poor), he is labelled as "evil" while when Ron says something nasty about Draco (and Slytherins in general), he is still the good guy (or the Chosen One's biggest friend). What always bugged me is that Slytherin's House has some qualities (if I remember right, the Sorting Hat explain them in the first book), and yet "all in Slytherin are bad". What, why? Why there can't be bad or asses in the other houses? Why there is no Death Eater's son in Rawenclaw? Why Slytherins' students are all "Death Eater's wannabes?": couldn't be that many of them have pressures? Couldn't be that many of these families are simply acting like nobles families had done during the centuries, acting in a way while they wanted nothing more than be free to hug, kiss and reward?

I'm going totally off-topic here, but...

Thanxs for this articole! I have read the one regarding Abused Woman in the media and I'll slowly made my way in this site: too many interesting analysis. :)

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http://shrek2be.livejournal.com/

at 14:05 on 2011-12-30I am not too intelligent to say that I understand what you have writtenabove in your post Daniel.I'll try to interpret DH and essentially HP in my own little simplistic way.

The problem for me is Rowling tries to keep Harry as Jesus and then convert him back to a human . Dumbledore ideally should be the Merlin/Gandalf figure (or like GOD with Harry being the son of GOD) but due to poor writing comes across as a bad human being. who shouldn't be preaching philosophy as he still believed in the greater good with the way he treated Harry.

I haven't read LOTR but have watched the movies and even Tolkien understands Frodo has changed irrevocably because he is no longer normal that he has to go to Valinor which I guess is the term for heaven. Rowling doesn't get this part at all. The epilogue validates how naive Rowling is terms of understanding religion. Harry's ideal character growth for me would be accepting that he has never been normal.

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http://ladylazarus1027.livejournal.com/

at 00:38 on 2012-07-12

I'm fairly sure Rowling didn't start attending the Church of Scotland until she was in her late twenties* -- at the absolute earliest-- but I can see why you wouldn't want facts to get in the way of your rant.

* According to wikipedia, she was born and raised in Gloucestershire, quite far from Scotland.

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Jamie Johnston

at 17:27 on 2012-07-13Greetings, unnecessarily sarcastic commenter! I don't know when (or whether) Rowling joined the Church of Scotland, but it's possible for her to have done so without living in Scotland. There is, for example, a Church of Scotland church near where I work in central London.

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Shim

at 20:39 on 2012-07-13A quick googling shows

this article from the Telegraph

which says she was raised as an Anglican. When she joined the Church of Scotland, I have no idea, and the Anglican church is very varied, so it's not that enlightening.

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Dan H

at 21:09 on 2012-07-13

Thanks for the clarification. To be honest, though, I'm not convinced that there is much difference between "was raised" and "was influenced by in her twenties" and I'm not sure whether that particular detail actually has much to do with my central argument, which is that the Harry Potter books present a world in which some people are predestined towards salvation and others not.

What Rowling herself believes, or why she believes it, or when she started believing it is distinctly secondary.

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http://fishinginthemud.livejournal.com/

at 02:54 on 2012-07-14I think people are tripping up on the idea that Rowling's terrible writing is due to her being a deranged Calvinist, rather than just a terrible writer. I don't think this article really pushes that connection very hard, but I can see why people who want to nitpick for the sake of nitpicking would jump on that.

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Dan H

at 10:34 on 2012-07-14I think that's probably the case. Ironically I think the article actually argues fairly strongly that Rowling *isn't* a deranged Calvinist, and that if she was her writing would probably be somewhat improved.

The problem I have with the attitude to Salvation in the Potter books is that it superficially resembles Calvinist Election without any of the theological underpinnings.

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Cammalot

at 11:38 on 2012-07-14

The problem I have with the attitude to Salvation in the Potter books is that it superficially resembles Calvinist Election without any of the theological underpinnings.

Yes, and I'd speculate that seems like that *would* be a product of a later-in-life association with the church, rather than early internalization of the doctrine.

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Ibmiller

at 11:38 on 2012-07-14Rather hilariously, I love this article, and I am a Calvinist (who some call deranged...) Completely agree that Rowling's world would improve from theological underpinnings other than "some people who are pretty are nice and some people who don't have noses are racist."

Hmmm...the Harry Potter series rewritten by a deranged Calvinist...if I were any kind of writer, I might want to take that up as a challenge...

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http://fishinginthemud.livejournal.com/

at 11:55 on 2012-07-14I think this specifically is what's getting people.

If [Rowling belongs to the Church of Scotland] is true, then it seems that Rowling has allowed her faith to strongly influence her work.

That implies a more direct connection than the one I got: that

Potter

and Calvinism both espouse a similar salvation-of-the-elect worldview, the difference being that Calvinists have put a bit more thought and indeed humanity and decency into their version. Their conclusions about how life works aren't the inadvertent result of an overlong fantasy series spinning out of an inexperienced writer's control.

Potter

would likely have ended up the same way if Rowling had never heard of Calvinism.

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http://fishinginthemud.livejournal.com/

at 12:02 on 2012-07-14

I am a Calvinist (who some call deranged...)

I actually don't think Calvinists are any more deranged than any other religious group. What would make Rowling's worldview deranged would be a conscious attempt to decontextualize Calvinist or most other religious beliefs into something secular, which I think everyone agrees probably did not happen.

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Ashimbabbar

at 14:27 on 2014-04-25• It's an extremely interesting and deep analysis ( not that everybody hadn't noticed, but now I have too )

• The "but of course Voldemort wouldn't repent" makes an interesting contrast with LOTR [ Tolkien being a Catholic ]. Here Saruman could really have repented ( after the Ents smashed Isengard ), it is not his 'nature' that prevents him too, only his choice ( I think LOTR would have been much better if he had but never mind that ). Gollum too could have if it hadn't been for Sam's hostility and his own reaction to it… they were really offered the choice.

• This "Rowlingian Calvinism", for want of a better term, sounds like a very good belief for the bad guys in a Fantasy novel…

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Daniel F

at 15:46 on 2014-04-25

it is not his 'nature' that prevents him too, only his choice ( I think LOTR would have been much better if he had but never mind that ).

I'm morbidly curious now...

#Ferretbrain #Harry Potter #J.K. Rowling #Dan H #Religion

8 notes · View notes

naomi-owens · 6 years ago

Text

the big reveal

who? Naomi Owens & Michael Otis where? Owens’s Residence when? February 16th, 2019

The neon color of red numbers blinked against the dashboard and served as a distraction for Naomi while attempting to work up the courage to speak, but alas, all of which proved to be difficult when she was taking up the passenger side seat of Michael’s vehicle. She was pregnant. Three positive pregnancy tests later, and each time showcased a link positive plus, two lines, or a yes on the little stick — she couldn’t be positive until she went to the doctor, but three out of three simply told her a best friend’s suspicion had managed to be right. For the remainder of the wedding, a night filled with magic and laughter while coming off the high romance of Valentine’s Day two days prior, it was hard to think of anything else. She was a thirty two year old single teacher living in her childhood home with her mother, pregnant with her ex-fiancé’s child. There was no doubt that the child belonged to Michael, with the flash memory of their night together in Raleigh connected the dots. It made sense. While it could have been means for a worry, she couldn’t help but feel an immediate inkling of joy — after all, a baby was what she always dreamed of, and she got that little tearful celebration out with Amy in the venue’s bathroom. A minute ticked by since the car pulled into park against the curb of her childhood home, a glow from a lamp left on in the living room being the only thing that kept the house alive, and with a quick swipe of her hair behind her shoulder that had lost it’s place in a pin at the base of her neck sometime throughout the night, Naomi finally spoke out. “Do you wanna come sit out back with me for awhile?”

The first half of the wedding festivities went really well and it was a good time, especially considering that while Michael was an amiable man he wasn't necessarily the most social. He was someone that enjoyed the quiet a little more, and it was the woman beside him in his SUV that had changed the course of his social life. For when he was her man, it meant quite a few social engagements to attend to as the supporting other half. Something he did without any complaint, and something he eventually grew quite comfortable with. It helped that Calvin was in attendance at the wedding, giving him someone to spend time with when Naomi was having girl time or off mingling with the people in attendance. Weston had been too busy but Michael tried to hang with his neighbor and Jake when able. The second half of the festivities, it didn't go without notice to the man that was acutely aware of his surroundings at all times that something was different with his ex fiance. Michael chalked it up to being emotional for being at a wedding, and took her home without asking about it because it seemed logical. Though the amount of time she sat there, and quietly, in the passenger seat without moving to get out upon arrival at her home was cause for his brow to crease. Just as he was about to speak up, it was as though she sensed his action and beat him to it. "Yeah, of course. Everything alright?" He reached out and brushed his hand over her shoulder and let his thumb travel down the curve of her neck before getting out of the vehicle and rounding it to open her door for her and give her a hand in stepping out of it. "Did I mention how beautiful you looked today?"

"Everything is fine, yeah." Technically? Yes, it was fine. This was a big deal, but not that big of a deal. It was just a baby. A baby between two exes who hadn't even made it down the aisle... but a baby nonetheless. Leave it to Michael to always leave her blushing, without a doubt though. Even when her mind was in the clouds and she was overly distracted, he still managed to make her cheekbones swarm with a heated crimson. "I think you said that once or twice." The brunette teased him this time, long lashes fluttering when she winked at him, climbing down from the SUV so the thin heel of her shoe clicked against the concrete. Almost as if it was natural, Naomi's hand snaked around Michael's forearm and she instead pulled him around the side gate of the backyard that was still lit up from the porch and the solar twinkle lights they used to decorate over the summer, leading him toward the wooden swing on the off corner to the left. It was chilly, but not enough to shy you inside with no jacket on. "Did you have a good time tonight?" Naomi figured starting off slow was a good idea, as truthfully, she was working off winging it here. It was a little early — she found out a whopping six hours ago, but Naomi knew she couldn't continue seeing Michael so often without sharing the fact that it was a possibility. Sitting down, Naomi immediately crossed her leg, and tugged on his arm to sit close with her. "I'm glad you came with me. You know, as a date..." She smirked a bit. "Rather than arm candy.”

Walking with Naomi, arm in arm, and holding his ex close to his side as they made their way to her backyard made Michael even more nostalgic with the memories that flooded in his head of all the time they had done this specific action before. "I had a pretty great time, yeah. Did you?" He shifted out of his jacket before he sat down and wrapped it around the brunette beauty, then sat close with her on the wooden swing to make sure she stayed warm in the dress and the chilled night. "You know how I am with big gatherings but it's always a pleasure to watch you in your element, smiling and mingling with your friends and such. The food was goo, cake even better, and I think Wes was happy." Reaching for her hand, he took it in his and held onto her, smoothing his thumb back and forth over her knuckles. He smiled and chuckled at her tease, "well, we all know my goal has always been to be your trophy man..." The retired Marine sent a wink her way but the confirmation of the word 'date' resonated with him and he breathed it in, letting it settle around him. It felt as though they were starting again, which would make Michael happy but it made him wonder what she wanted to talk about. "You sure you're ok though? I couldn't help but notice your mood changed half way through the day..." It wasn't so much that Mike was hyper aware of Naomi, he was just more skilled in observation than everyone. He was highly trained to read even the smallest most minute details. "Kind of hard to attend a wedding with your former fiance, huh?"

“I did. And yeah, I think they’re over the moon. I know Amy was feeling romantic tonight because of it.” Naomi laughed, finding that it was much easier snuggling up within her ex’s jacket than it should have been. If she was really a stickler for putting the past in the past, she wouldn’t have even brought up the idea of going to this thing together. Ha, what a turn of events that was, especially with what she was working up the courage to reveal to him. Glancing down at the joined hands, Naomi twisted her wrist so her palm was exposed and Michael’s thumb brushed over the inside instead. “Trophy man?” Naomi laughed, though shook her head. “You always were more than a trophy, silly.” In reality, he was made up of the dream man her father told her to wait for. She was certain in her choice when she decided right then and there when she accepted that date back at her college campus. “Do you ever find it funny? You know, to think about? Who would’ve thought a marine handing out surveys a few years ago when I was in college would end up right beside me?” Naomi laughed. As he questioned her mood, knowing she had been caught practically red headed, Naomi had shifted in her spot and brought his hand to his lap. “If I were to tell you something, something I’m not one hundred percent sure of but something I can’t continue to keep from you... Would you be willing to listen? With open ears, and I suppose... an open heart?” She but into her bottom lip, finding those nerves in her stomach return. “It’s not that, it’s just...” Her head shook. “It’s different.”

The hand turned over in his, the pad of Michael's thumb took to tracing the lines on the inside of Naomi's palm. Her near slip up of saying husband brought forth a quiet chuckle, but he stayed mum on commenting on it for fear that her response could chase away the good feeling it gave him. "But still a trophy though, right?" Michael joked, grinning broadly for a moment. "Well, to be honest with you, since meeting you that day I've thought about it every day since then," the retired Marine confessed, though figured it wouldn't be news to Naomi. Michael was old school in the romance department and when his heart had set on the one it left room for no one else or any other possibilities. Which, he blamed now for his inability to let her move on with her life after trying to be with her twice and it failing on them. "I've learned though to stop looking ahead and making big plans on what I want in life. You do that and you can miss out on too much of the day to day livin'. I can't think of anywhere else I want to be though than right beside you." There was no way that wasn't going to come out on this day, at some point, given the ex fiancés had just attended a wedding together and Naomi was beyond a knockout in her gorgeous dress. He couldn't help while being in attendance with her what their wedding would've looked like. When she shifted, Michael did as well, he had the feeling whatever her answer was going to be that it was important. He picked up on that through body language alone, something was definitely weighing on her. "Always, Naomi... without question." Studying her face for a moment, he nodded when she admitted it had nothing to do with them attending a wedding together, and it was a bit of a sinking feeling. "What is it? You can tell me anything, talk to me about anything... you know that. Whatever it is... it's ok, just talk to me."

“Oh, totally.” Naomi laughed it off when Michael returned to narrow in on the idea of a trophy, and in some ways, he very much was. He was a man made up of positives that Naomi could only dream of. A handy man, a heart of gold, aspiring father and it wasn’t like he was lacking in the looks department. One look at the blonde head of hair, speckled define jawline and those dreamy blue eyes and Naomi was certain she had swallowed her heart completely. “The shiniest trophy there could be. My father even said so.” He was the second out of all her boyfriends to even met her father, and Eli in turn actually liked Michael. Smooshing her lips together, Naomi contained the smile that threatened her features, staring down at the way Michael took to tracing her palm. “That’s a long time.” She murmured, as Naomi had met Michael on a whim on the cusp of her college graduation. “You’re a little crazy.” She then laughed, shaking her head. “You amaze me sometimes, you know? The way you see things...” She was often called the ray of sunshine, but Naomi couldn’t disagree more. For her, that was Michael. “You’ve accomplished so much, you’ve dedicated your life to something many can’t even fathom and yet... you still manage to stun me.” Her head moved to rear from his grip to instead let her fingers ghost across his cheek, caressing the cheekbone then jaw then even moving down to his lips. A smile spread across her lips though wavered due to the fact that the gut wrenching nerves were still very much there, but backing out now wasn’t an option. She couldn’t have this little piece of knowledge and not clue him into it.“I, um. Amy actually pointed it out to me. I think I’ve been shying over the details but now, looking at it, it kind of makes sense...” Her lips parted and she actually sucked in a sharp breath. “Anyway, I haven’t been feeling all too much like myself, and she brought these tests with her after a mishap this morning before the wedding and...” Her nose scrunched, but as her hand dropped down to recapture his hand for a bit of support, she finally let it out. “There’s still that slim margin, but according to three very positive tests, I’m pretty certain I’m pregnant.”

It was bittersweet, the mention of her father and how he had approved of Michael. The loss of him was when things changed between them, or at least on Naomi's side, and his own side was the effects of his career. It was something though, to get that nod of approval and something he never took lightly. Michael was an older brother to a baby sister, unfortunately the youngest Otis child with four older brothers, and he had always been protective of her. He'd always imagined he'd be the same if he ever had children some day. "I've been out there. It really changes a lot going to war." The retired Marine always had a hard time taking a compliment. He leaned his head into Naomi's touch a little and offered her a bit of a smile. The man was literally at war with himself over everything he had accomplished and it definitely wasn't the time for that kind of talk so he accepted her words, because at the end of the day it all meant something. He did save a lot of lives and he did lay his life on the line for country for sixteen some years. The smile she wore and the way it faded worried him, he was left hanging there on the hook and at her mercy with whatever she had to reveal to him or speak to him about. Michael wasn't a man really shaken by anything anymore, so he wasn't nervous but there was some mild concern resting on his shoulders. He squeezed her hand when her's dropped down to grab his and his brow stitched together with the build up of what was to come. As soon as he heard I'm pregnant almost all Michael could hear was his blood rushing through his ears and the man was completely stunned. He didn't sit there like a dummy though, he took her jaw gently into his grasp and his oceanic gaze bore into her chocolate stare."You're pregnant?" Suddenly it actually explained a few things between today and when he saw her on Valentine's Day. "Three positive tests?" The happiness and excitement was bubbling up inside of him. "What's the slim chance? You haven't been to the doctor yet for a blood test huh? We can go tomorrow." Michael was trying his best to contain himself but his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. "You're pregnant," he said strongly that time and pulled her in to plant his lips onto hers.

It was a little difficult to focus on anything other than the fact that had just actually revealed to him that she was indeed pregnant — blood test or not, it was hard to ignore three positive tests and the feeling that this was very much real. Suddenly from that point, Naomi felt her throat begin to close and she had to swallow hard to get herself to calm down, attempting to remain neutral while she waited his reaction. Would be be furious? They weren't together. Oh God, what if he thought she trapped him? Her nose scrunched at that. Would he be happy? Over the moon? A little sad? Children had always been included in their plan, but a couple actually together and a marriage certificate framed on their hall of their home was supposed to come first. Not at least four years of constant back and forth, with other people in between and a little bit of heartache. "No, it was just kind of... random. To humor Amy, to answer questions, and yet..." Michael's face was a bit hard to read as she revealed the news — was that a smile, or was she just being hopeful? Then he repeated her words, and kissed her, and she swore up and down she wasn't entirely breathing at that point. She sucked in a sharp breath of air through her nose when her chin jutted forward and returned the kiss, unable to help but mumble into his mouth. "You're not upset?"

Unable to help himself, the emotion hadn't hit him yet of the news, but Michael was in a state of some shock. It was an elated feeling so he pressed his lips a few more times in longer lingering kisses before mumbling out an answer. "Upset with whom?" One more kiss. "You?" With that he shook his head as he leaned back a bit, feeling the need to look Naomi in the eyes. "I couldn't be upset with you, especially not over a child." He licked his lips, and his gaze found her belly — or rather, where the bump would eventually be once this pregnancy was confirmed the next day and in a few months of growth. "I've always wanted kids," he mentioned, soon after lifting his eyes to meet her chocolate hues. "We have. We used to talk about it, remember?" Something in Michael told him this situation was much harder for Naomi than it was for him. He was afraid to ask the first question because of the fear of offending her over it, but the retired Marine needed to know with certainty that she former fiancé was keeping the baby. They weren't together and he wasn't sure despite their recent connections if she still ever thought of them being together anymore. He was sure though, he wanted that baby and he wanted it's mother, there wasn't even a hesitation in the thought. "Can we schedule the appointment in the morning and I take you? I know you well enough that I don't believe I have to ask if you're keeping this baby once confirmed, so I feel confident in telling you that I'm going to be there for everything. I will take care of you," his head nodded down to her stomach, "and our baby."

A hum escaped her mouth in between the kisses, unable to help herself. There was a sense of comfort of just being with Michael again in whatever way he would allow. Now, with the world weighing down around the two with the worry of the child on the way, it was a bit of relief. A deep breath passed through her nose as he pulled back and fluttered her eyes to look down, collecting herself while she had a moment to breathe. “I didn’t think you would, but I never know.” Her hand reached up and slipped over his before her chin jutted forward to brush over his mouth with her lips, stealing another kiss. She actually couldn’t help the way her eyes teared with the emotions that bubbled up within her. “We talked about it when we had a ring on my finger. Not with people between us and when I’m not sure if I have the right to call you mine.” Naomi couldn’t help if, swallowing thickly before glancing down. Even after her birthday, even after the easy way she went and kissed him again, she still wasn’t sure where his heart could have been. Sucking in a deep breath, Naomi straightener her posture and slipped her finger over her cheek to swipe a tear, laughing. “Yeah. Yes. You can. I’d like that.” Her hand moved toward his cheek, then leaned forward to press her lips to her cheek again. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

When Naomi returned her lips to his for another kiss, he welcomed the affection and the need and returned it in kind. Seeing that she was emotional no doubt had an effect on the retired Marine and there was a gentle kneading of his thumb on the inside of her palm. A small smile curled one side of his mouth just a little, "you always have the right to call me yours. Do you really think there's been anyone else?" Given it had only been a little more than a year since their last try at a relationship, he supposed it was enough time for her to start anew with someone, but Michael had been sent on an op and when he returned there had been a lot to personally work on. Then there was school. She couldn't have known but it still made him wonder nonetheless. Once she wiped the tear from her cheek he took her hand and brought those small digits to his lips and pressed them to. Michael gently reached out and smoothed the pad of his thumb across her cheekbones. "I don't know what you've got going on in your life in that regard, Naomi. I figure you wouldn't have been with me on your birthday if you had someone else, but I don't want to be presumptuous on your life. All I know is that I'm here," he paused and kissed her fingers again, "and I'll always be here. This is us, this baby." He was actually feeling a bit emotional, a child was something he had longed for and suddenly it was a real thing with the woman he had made those plans with. "Good," Michael confirmed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He took her chin with his free hand and turned her head to show some tenderness to her lips once again. "We're doing it. How do you feel?"

The kisses were enough to lull her into a complete distraction and to calm the butterflies in her stomach, temporarily forgetting that she was dealing with a life changing event here. They were merely two people sitting on a swing in her backyard after a glow of a wedding, snuggling up together while they could. Yet again, this was a shining example of how natural it was to fall back in a routine with Michael. “I don’t know, Mike. There could have been. Was there?” Her chin ducked momentarily. She didn’t know, she wouldn’t have imagined he would have much time for others... but if he had taken a page out of her own book, he would have been jumping in feet first in whatever he could see fitting. Turning her head, Naomi exhaled a deep breath and leaned into his touch before her lips would turn and press against his palm, then turning to look back up at him. Her large eyes already shined wide with both the emotional tears that threatened to spill over, but this time sparkled with a bit of bliss at his response. “God, I’ve tried. Last summer, but it hasn’t...” She actually shook her head this time, as she then leaned back toward him to press her forehead down into his shoulder, exhaling a deep breath. “They’re never you.” She whispered into his shirt, though ended up rising her head again when his arm snakes around her. He was showering her with ample amounts of affection at that point, where Naomi couldn’t help but melt into. “I just don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything because of this... a baby.” She wanted him, but she wanted him in the right way. A third time wasn’t a charm when it was forced with a hiccup down the road. Him holding her chin had her leaning forward to kiss him again, unable to help but control the way her lips parted when she did so. “Terrified.” She mumbled there quietly, allowing the emotions to actually get to her at this point. She was definitely crying, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “But amazing. It’s a baby.”

“I’ve been on a date,” he answered her. Yep, just one whole date since they had broken up last and each were maybe expected to move on. Michael never had been good with the letting go, especially when it came to the women in his life. In many ways the retired Marine wasn’t a hardened man, not even by his years at war, but it softened him to think of his mother and how happy a grandchild would make her. Sure, she already had a few by his older brothers, but his relationship with her was unique. They were closely bonded and so similar, and her death was the first time his heart truly broke. Michael still felt the pain of her loss, it gave him complete understanding to how Naomi losing her father was such a changing experience. Now they had a baby and a life on the way, now maybe it meant the future they had once planned on might come to fruition after all. “I haven’t really had time, nor desire to really get out there,” the blond man confessed. “Kind of hard to do when there’s only one Naomi Owens in the world.” It was some kind of echo to the words she herself spoke. Something that both warmed his heart but that also resonated deeply with him. Anyone woman he met, no matter how beautiful or tempting, they weren’t her. “I don’t blame you for trying but... and I feel a little bad for saying this,” he paused and his sapphire gaze met her vibrant hazelnut hues, “I’m glad nothing else worked out.” It truly felt like a shitty thing to say but despite that there was no guilt on his part for expressing that to Naomi. His head bobbed in a slow nod, accepting her words and sitting there in some silence while it seemed to be a show of him thinking it over. It was false. There was nothing to think over.“I think you know as well as I do that this baby of ours that’s now growing inside of you was made of love. I don’t know if having a baby means you wanting to try with me again, and I don’t want you making any rash decisions on that, but...” Michael accepted her kiss and held onto her lips. He kissed her back longer and deeper, he too was overwhelmed with emotion and a suddenly different future ahead of him than the one he had planned. Michael was happy and excited. “I’m here. You have me if you want me. I love you and no time or distance or obstacle is gonna change that.” His large hand brushed her brunette stands back and he nodded. It was scary with the sudden change, and Michael pulled her to him when she began to cry. “We’re gonna have a baby.” He then chuckled. “I hope to god it’s a boy and doesn’t look anything like you,” the man joked. The thought of having a mini me Naomi gave Michael heart palpitations.

She couldn’t help that twinge of jealousy in her stomach even if it wasn’t that warranted. It was one date. One stupid date, when she technically had gone further with someone he knew... but Naomi was Naomi, she had that dramatic flare. “One date means she wasn’t the one for the next.” Did she have much to worry about? She did have the baby on the way, anyway. Michael never had much of an issue in tending to her fears, however, as every single worry that could have filled her head was eased with his words. There’s only one Naomi Owens. “You stole my line, you know.” She let out a shaky breath, attempting to keep her emotions in check, though the tears in her eyes had threatened to betray her. This was the life they planned from the beginning. From when they were a bit younger, meeting on a whim on her college campus... she had always yearned to be here with Michael, and now it all seemed to become more of a promise to become a reality. A magical man that made her world turn upside down, a job she adored and now a baby. Even when it was mere hours after coming to the realization after a total surprise it had never managed to leave. She didn’t want to jump right in without thinking, nor did she want to get ahead of herself, but with the way her heart pounded in her chest while he stole kisses and spoke about the love that created a baby.... well, it was hard not to. That love once was supposed to be past tense, but it never quite disappeared. She wasn’t sure it ever would.“We won’t make any rash decisions. We won’t. Because I know if you keep kissing me like that, I’m not going to be able to stop...” The brunette breathed into his mouth half way through the kiss that left her breathless — unsure if it was due to the fact that his affection knocked the wind out of her, or the fact that there was a little human now growing inside of her. Her chin slowly turned and her nose brushed against Michael’s in what was considered a Eskimo kiss. “You love me,” She trailed off happily with her eyes closed, though smiled as she did so. “And I love you, and I want to try.” She breathed out, hoping that covered every base she needed. She did want to try, in every sense of the word. As he pulled her back in, Naomi actually took a moment to let the tears fall. A happy cry more or less, but the damp tears stained her cheeks and she leaned her body into his chest momentarily. “We’re having a baby.” She repeated. “It’s kinda crazy, you know? Please... A little girl would be magical.” Her lips curled into a half smile, and she wiped the smudge that came with her mascara. “You know it’s the size of a blueberry right now? I looked it up.”

Michael knew mentioning having been on a date wasn't exactly the best thing for an ex to hear, much less a former fiancé whom he had tried very hard to have a complete life with. Naomi could be jealous, even if she had no reason to ever be, it was human nature, and it was a reaction and emotion that Michael understood. His distance from her since they called it quits again just over a year ago made the man jealous of everything that got a piece of her these days.... the sun, the wind, anyone who was gifted a smile, the kids who got to see her passion in her element of music and teaching, and the friends that got to hear the ins and outs of her life. All things he still wanted and missed, but he hoped the magic words of there's only one Naomi Owens let her know she had nothing to worry about. Only one woman had him and his heart and that was her, curled up in his side and growing their baby inside of her. He knew better to ask if she had seen or been with anyone since they had been broken up, Michael didn't want to do that to himself, and ultimately he knew it was unfair. "Yeah, there's no next, Nomes. I've been trying and not very well to let you move on with your life but... personally I'm still stuck on you. The one date I had, well, shamefully she looked very similar to you." He wanted it out in the open now, rather than Naomi finding these things out later and possibly being hurt by them. Michael was always the full disclosure type, and honest. "I didn't steal it," he smiled a bit, "I just borrowed it. I feel like I had to remind ya." The smile on his lips remained as it hit him that although they couldn't work things out on their own, the universe clearly wanted them together. Which was what Michael had always felt since the moment he had met Naomi at her college — they were supposed to be together. He kissed her again. "Maybe I don't want you to stop," he mumbled against her lips, then another kiss. The blond nodded and sighed inwardly, content and feeling the bliss of their affections. "I do love you, and you love me," he repeated selfishly for how the words lifted him, "so let's try. But it's gonna work... I'm not going to make the same mistakes I made before." Naomi was pulled into his side and he held his girl like he always had in the past, his fingers met her damp cheekbones and gently smoothed the tears away. He himself felt emotional, he was finally going to have a child and family, and it was with Naomi. Life suddenly felt right again, the world had turned back on it's axis and wondrously he wasn't so lost anymore. There was something to really live for. "A little crazy," he chuckled softly, " we're doing things a little out of order but that's alright." The thought of having a girl scared him, as he imagined many father's felt. "I'd love any child we have, but a daughter would just mean you and her teaming up against me. A blueberry huh? " Using his thumb and index he measured the approximate size and stared at it for a few moments. "My oatmeal is never gonna be the same..."

This was real. This was actually happening. Naomi had to keep her eyes fluttered closed for a moment to actually take it all in, as most of this would be something she would pinch herself over. Having a family with a man who was made of pure magic had always been something Naomi dreamed of... in fact, she started dreaming of it more often when she met Michael on a whim at UNC, and that didn’t exactly falter even when they had broken up twice. He was the person she got far enough to picture her life molding together with — while she had tried elsewhere, tried desperately to find the warm love she had found with Michael, it all seemed to fall at her feet. She tried too hard every single time, and that should have told her something. When it came so effortless, it was worth holding onto. “Looked like me?” Naomi asked, her brow arching. She couldn’t help but let her mind race to picture every single woman she knew in Wilmington who could even remotely resemble her, but most of those were her friends. She didn’t think they would go that far. Her shoulders squared, looking up at him through thick lashes, and she shrugged. “Nothing beats the real deal.” That was a little cocky, but she couldn’t help herself this time around. A half smile spread across her lips though at the little comment he made. He could steal her lines if it meant her heart continuing to hammer that hard.Tilting her chin forward, Naomi couldn’t entirely help herself when she went in and kissed him again when he practically prompted her, though this time moving her hand up to curl around the side of his neck. “Because you missed me?” She murmured against his lips, while her kiss eventually moved to his jaw, and the hand that was on his neck had slipped beneath the collar of his white shirt and over the skin of his collarbone. A laugh escaped her mouth when she was pressed into his skin and her body was pulled in closer, nodding some. “This time is different. It’s not just the baby. It feels different. You feel different.” She said. “But that’s not a bad thing. You seem more yourself.” Her lips moved up his jaw to the sensitive space just below his ear, whispering. “I missed that.” With her brown hair that had fallen free from the clip hiding her face, Naomi pulled back and smiled at him. “Apparently. I can’t even wrap my head around something being that small.” Another laugh bubbled over into his neck, as her lips moved around to the front of his adam’s apple. “I think it’s kind of amazing...”

"You know... brunette, dark eyes, beautiful cheekbones..." He was supposed to be describing what he meant by saying that the woman looked like her, and instead was really just listing off Naomi's features. "Cute little nose," Michael bopped it lightly with his finger then. "And lips that hold my most favorite smile in the world," he paused then and smirked slightly, "well, at least until our little one is born. Then, I'm sorry, you're taking a backseat, Mama." The blond man winked at her and leaned in to soothe his joking, which probably came at the wrong time, with a few kisses to her ear and curve of her neck. "Nothing memorable though. I think she cared more about sex than anything else, and you know me." Mike had never been the one night stand kind of guy, he always craved connection and if he was going to share himself he didn't want it to be just once. "Nothing beats the real deal," the retired Marine confirmed, "not that there's ever been a chance for anyone else in my heart." It seemed that Michael had been so dedicated to the one that he never gave anything else a chance, which considering that he and Naomi were virtually back together for a third time now it wasn't a bad thing, but once he had set on her back when they started dating so many years ago there was no room in his heart for anyone else. It made him smile in that respect that he was just like his father — the man had married his college sweetheart and they ended up having five children together and Michael couldn't even remember a fight between the two of them. And to his father's credit, the man had never moved on even after his mother lost her battle with cancer so many years ago. Michael had always wanted that kind of love, it was his ideal and it was hitting him now that he had it all along, he carried it within him for Naomi Owens. You seem more yourself. It was true, given his departure from the Marine Corps he was finding his old self again, the man he was for Naomi before they both veered in different directions due to life's curve balls. There was still a lot for Michael to address, but he was feeling strong and more capable of managing it. "I missed it too," he confessed and and breathed in deep as her lips teased him. "I'm sorry I lost my way for so long. I should have been there for you," Michael murmured and cupped her jaw in his large hand, peering into those deep and expressive eyes. "Enjoy it while it's small, babe. It's the most amazing thing in the world, and I'm not really ashamed for going a little hard on your birthday then," he chuckled softly. The whole thing made him feel lighter, happier. He had Naomi and he had a baby with her on the way. When he couldn't take anymore of her teasing he pulled the petite woman onto his lap and cradled the side of her neck with his hand as he brought her in for another kiss. His other hand reached up and freed her tresses from the pins holding it up, letting it's length unwrap and cascade down past her shoulders. Michael liked to be able to run his fingers through it. "I'm half tempted to lift your skirt up right here in your mama's back yard...."

“Close, but seems like a drug store copy.” Naomi couldn’t help but let out a half hearted laugh, even if it was a little critical of her. He had done a good job at soothing her worries though. Her mind was racing a mile a minute over the possibility of another woman who even remotely resembled her filling in her role in his life, he still seemed to be dead set on her... that was much more than what she could say for plenty of others who had came and gone in her life, which had her feeling much better about the whole ordeal than anything. The only one she would be even remotely happy to share the spotlight with was their little one, the one he mentioned, and she wasn’t entirely surprised when he threw that one in there. “Yeah, yeah, I know. God forbid it’s a girl, and she reminds me everyday how she stole my man.” Her head shook and tilted to the side when his lips trailed over the side of her neck this time, the feeling alone letting goosebumps rise on her skin. As Naomi liked to pride herself on knowing Michael rather well, she wasn’t so surprised to learn that the date hadn’t worked out for many reasons. “You never were. I would like to think I would know, I mean, I did win you over in favor of my roommate back in the day... You know, the one who wanted to jump your bones?” Naturally, her two large hazel hues dropped down to the chest that was only peeking beneath a bulging button and a tie where his heart beat — that was hers, in every sense of the word, even if the two tried to let it beat elsewhere. It all seemed a little silly now, what was the point? It seemed like now it was all a bit of wasted time. She knew from the moment she met him he was placed on this planet for her, that little line straight out of her vows she had stored away years ago, but even now that hadn’t changed. Nothing changed, even when she tried to make it happen.

Her head shook into the kiss as he apologized. “We all get a little lost sometimes.” Before she was bitter, she was the first person to admit so, but Naomi knew that they wouldn’t have gotten to the point of where they were today if they hadn’t had to endure every hurdle life threw at them. That included his distance while he was stationed away from their home, their first break up, her grieving her father alone, him grieving his mother alone, and the foundation cracking when they jumped in a second time around a year prior. She fully believed that the world worked wonders if you let it work it’s magic, and now she was landed back in his arms with a baby. “You’re back now.” She breathed, one hand moving to stroke her thumb across his jaw. Lips perked up in a smile, she ducked her head when he stared back down at her. “A little hard? You mean the three rounds to guarantee a blueberry?” Her words caused he to laugh, though when he pulled her over, Naomi hadn’t wasted time in adjusting her weight so that either knee was snug against the side of his waist, hands moving down the side of his neck. Her chin had tilted forward and her lips meshed in well with Michael’s, deepening the kiss in the midst of the brown hair cascading down her back. The dress she wore was ironically perfect for the position they were in, as the wrapped cloth had rode up her thigh, and she playfully moved to let the slit that exposed her left leg be pulled back entirely. “Half tempted?” She asked, leaning forward again so the hair fell over her shoulder, while her hands moved down to his hips, curling around the button there.

“Not even a copy,” he smiled a little, “just something similar but not remotely the same.” The jealousy and insecurity that seemed to gnaw at her a little, judging by her comments, were understandable. Michael wanted to ask how she had tried to move on but knew better of himself to actually get the question out. He wasn’t a jealous or insecure man in the slightest, it would simply wear at him though all the curiosities. Clearly they were both sitting there closely together with a baby between them now so neither had really made strides in the mission of moving on. Michael hadn’t truly wanted to though, but what of Naomi? Had she really wanted to? How hard did she try to replace him in her life? Questions he’d never ask and that would never even touch the trusted ears of a friend because Michael kept everything close to the chest. It was another burden he’d carry, and again in this case it was better for his shoulders bear it than hers. “You seriously wouldn’t compete with your own daughter over daddy’s love and attention would ya?” Michael winked at Naomi then smiled at his work, the way her skin displayed goosebumps under his lips and hot breath. “Oh, I remember, but I don’t really remember much about her.” It had been pretty obvious as soon as he and the brunette beside him caught each other’s eyes that it was all signed, sealed, and delivered. From then on there just seemed to be a gravitational pull between them. He pressed a kiss to her collarbone and breathed in her sweet scent, finally feeling a future and possibilities opening up. Lost seemed an understatement, but that was due to the fact that she didn’t know the current state of his emotional well being. No one did, it was what he was holding so tight to his chest, and not something he intended to keep buried forever but something he would find a way to move past. Michael was already feeling better about life and his new place in life would only push him to do better and take care of himself better. Now he was going to have a baby to watch grow up, and Naomi be the most beautiful mother. He felt so incredibly fortunate. “That I am,” he commented with a gentle nod of his head. “Well, the first round didn’t really do much of anything to secure a blueberry,” Mike chuckled, vividly remembering his head between her thighs. His strong hands settled on her hips, fingertips digging in just a little as he gripped her and held her atop his lap. His sapphire hues burned into her deep hazel, only shutting when she leaned in and crashed her lips against his. The kiss was deep, passionate, and his mouth opened up to slip his tongue into hers. “Half tempted,” he repeated, challenging, though his voice was suddenly a little more gravelly. His palm travel down the bare skin of her exposed thigh but captured that fabric at her hips and tugged it up further, and his gaze turned down to catch sight of the fabric covering her sex. His digits soon swept between her thighs and stroked over her covered folds, thumb pressing down the center, teasing at first then finding her clit and adding a little pressure. While he loved foreplay, it was hard for Michael to be patient in this moment and he soon brushed her underwear aside to stroke her nectar coated lips and ease two fingers into her core with a groan vibrating in his throat at the squeezing wet warmth around his fingers.

Not even a copy. Naomi couldn’t help but smile at that one. She never once battled much with self esteem issues — she knew what she had to offer, she knew she was a catch and she knew that she was bound to be the best partner she could be, but that hadn’t meant that Michael reassuring her that no one seemed to compare hadn’t meant something to her. She was jealous, a little bitter, even if it wasn’t her place to be. At least he was being honest with what happened in the past, which was something she also would do if he needed the details. She did, though, as always. Then again, it was yet another shining example of Michael knowing her better than most, and knowing what she needed to hear in order to be reassured with herself. “Maybe? I’ll deal, of course, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be a little jealous. You’re my guy.” Naomi’s fingertips grazed over the top of his shoulder as she remained close to him, her lips actually grazing over his mouth as she spoke. If anyone knew how territorial and a bit dramatic she could get, it was Michael, as the mention of her former roommate in college had done the trick — she stole his attention, and she intended to keep it that way. She couldn’t really bring herself to mouth a response when Michael’s lips had came down to her collarbone and his warm breath distracted her, bringing her hand to slide from his shoulder to his neck again, exhaling a deep breath.

He seemed a little deep in his thoughts for a brief moment, twisting her wrist around to slip her fingertips over the back of his neck, then slipped the digits up the back of his head to tickle scratch his scalp. “I’m glad you are.” She confirmed with a softer smile, her nose brushing against his and her mouth grazing his again with how close they were. They remained connected, and Naomi couldn’t exactly get enough of the man before her. She really did miss him while he was away, perhaps that was a big reason why their relationship had suffered through the rocks, but God she missed him. “It’s always better when you’re here.” The brunette confirmed again and her fingertips moved down to the front of his chest, where the loosened collar was readily available for her ( since his jacket was now slipping off her own shoulders ) and dipped down to feet his skin. Her cheeks flushed, shaking her head. “Oh my God,” She blushed once again. “You’re so bad.” Naomi giggled, this time tilting her chin forward to crash her lips back on into his. At that point in time, it didn’t even matter that they were still in the backyard of her childhood home way past dusk. Emotions were high, and she wanted nothing more than to reconnect with him in more ways than one. Shaky fingers had only gotten to unbutton the clasp of his slacks before Michael’s fingers were back inside her and the chiffon pale dress had been bundled at her hips, eliciting a low throaty moan to escape her mouth. “I’m fully tempted,” Naomi whimpered again into his mouth, her fingers moving to grasp onto the side of his neck, mouth parting to greet his tongue. As noisy as she was, Naomi couldn’t help but moan again, rocking her hips on forward to ride the two fingers. “I want you.” The brunette whispered as her mouth drug down his stubbled chin, feeling her hips flex and her walls flutter to the touch around him, before her right hand had hastily tugged on the buttons of his shirt. “Please, baby.”

“I’m your guy, yes,” Michael chuckled softly, an easy and content sound. “But I’ll be this one’s father,” he added with his hand smoothing over where the baby would soon be giving Naomi a bump. “You’ve never had anything to be jealous of.” It was understood though, the facts of the brunette teasing him with her lips and touches were well known. Territorial behavior was a natural thing where Michael was concerned, and something openly accepted because he too could be very much the same way. They differed though in how it was expressed. Naomi could be dramatic and Michael could feel a need to be assertive, and thankfully neither of them really pushed those boundaries and limits. It was his responsibility as her man to make sure she always felt secure, and likewise, that was his view on how this all worked. They each teased each other’s flesh with their lips, but when the retired Marine came up for air from her collarbones and the little dip between he kissed her then pulled back to make eye contact with her. He held Naomi’s jaw in his hand and peered into her hazel hues. “What do you think about making a third go of this? There’s nothing to pull us apart this time...” “Well... I’m never leaving again, I promise you that. And things are different now.” Which was true, they definitely were, given that he didn’t have active duty to drag him away at a moments notice if they deemed his particular services needed for whatever mission. They never again had to suffer through low quality Skype calls that often failed, or long absences empty with no contact, and for that along with the blueberry their future looked better and more possible than it ever had. Michael was tired of missing her. “Mmm,” he hummed at the feel of her fingers touching the top of his chest where his opened top button revealed a bit of warm flesh. Noticing his jacket sliding off her shoulders, Mike took it and placed it aside and worried for a brief moment of Naomi getting cold but then figured he’d keep her plenty warm. The blond smirked at her reaction. “Look at those rosy cheeks,” he teased, though was pleased he still had that effect on her. Michael hummed even deeper, the sound vibrating against her lips when she kissed him hard and he was unable to keep his hands off of her any longer. He almost didn’t need to move his fingers with the way her hips began rocking on his digits, but he diligently pumped them in and out of her core and twisted his wrist and curled his fingers inside of her a little. The more she rode him though the more jealous he became of his own fingers. His cock wasn’t just throbbing, it was aching with the need to fill her. It had been more than a month since he was home inside of her and he could hardly stand it. “Fuck,” Michael grunted, “hold onto me.” As soon as he felt her hands digging into his shoulders, he released his grip on her hip so that he could pull his tucked shirt free and let down his pants. Reluctantly he withdrew his fingers, smirking at the saturated feel of her arousal on them, and lifted her at the hips so he could align his cock with her entrance then groaned deeply as he slowly let her down on his thick length. “God, Naomi...” Michael muttered and returned his hands to her hips to guide her movements.

All coherent thoughts on responding to him went out the window when he made such a proposition to her. No, it didn’t matter if her heart skipped a beat over him labeling himself as a father to their growing child, because Naomi was back in his lap and kissing on him and listening to him wanting to try again and she wasn’t even sure it was real. Something got caught in her throat that stalled her response. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she told him — they had already been dancing around a dangerous line of blurring their history together, but a child didn’t have to mean they needed to get back together. A roll around in the sheets didn’t mean such, either. That didn’t mean that Naomi’s lips hadn’t naturally curled into a smile when he asked and she immediately felt the need to kiss him silly when he did. His hand was over her stomach, he was making promises of sticking around... so she leaned in and kissed him hard. She really kissed him, where she stalled all movements and gripped the collar of his shirt like she had nothing else to hold onto. “Third times a charm, isn’t it?” Naomi mumbled against his lips, nose nestled against Michael’s. “to hell with it.” Another whisper. “Baby, I want to.” She slipped her arms around his neck again, fingers curling into his blonde locks as her head tilted. “I love you, Michael.”

Her hands slipped from his chest to his neck and she kissed him again, almost like second hand nature at that point. There was very little she could do when all she wanted was to be close with him again, and her body was practically aching for it with nothing more than his fingers inside her, and his words causing her heart to hammer. At this rate she really needed to find a way to get him up to her bedroom with no interruptions, but now she just couldn’t help it. She needed him in more ways than one, and getting up from the bench in the yard was no longer an option — at least for now. “Shh,” Naomi moaned when he pointed out her cheekbone color, fluttering her lashes. She had heard that once or twice, knowing he got a kick out of making her blush. Now that the jacket was taken off, her shoulders were more exposed and her hair fell over them, though the dip in the cleavage of her dress flared a bit when her body moved to rock over his fingers. Little moans escaped her mouth at every twist and turn he made, causing his fingers to beckon inside her. He always was so good at that, he always knew what her body would beg for before she even did. Except this time she was impatient, and with how high emotions were, she wanted nothing more than to be close to Michael in every way she knew how. “G-God,” Naomi whined a bit as her hips staggered and her hand gripped his thigh for support, growing flush at the sensation. It felt like the heavens, but God, she wanted so much more.

Within seconds, the bliss of having her man back inside her after the month alone had brought a loud whimper and a fluttering of her lashes. It wasn’t new by any means, but each and every time the pair connected in such an intimate way, Naomi couldn’t help but squirm in delight. The feeling alone washed over her completely, her jaw slacking a bit in bliss while her fingers continued to grip onto his shoulder like she was instructed. How he managed to lift her where he wanted promoted another moan from her, incredibly turned on with every single thing he did. “You feel so good.” Naomi’s hips immediately rolled forward once she had settled down snug on top of him, her knees back to the sides of his hips, and she had gotten used to the pressure that came with him being back inside her. Head tilted, with tips of her loosened hair brushing his knees, her body rolled once more. “You always do...” she moaned out, dropping her hand down to grip his thigh. Her lips parted as her hazel orbs connected with his beautiful sapphires, unable to help but moan once more.

For Michael the news of Naomi possibly being pregnant only hit a bit of a fast forward button on where he saw them heading. There was no one else that had his interest, even slightly, even more so he hadn’t wanted to look elsewhere despite trying to do so for her sake. From her birthday to Valentines Day, then this wedding they’d just gone too, well the blond didn’t need much more of that to know things were coming to a head. Time apart showed that they could live without each other, but the thing was that Michael didn’t want to and he was tired of acting like he was nothing more than a friendly ex anytime he saw her about town or became remotely close to anyone that knew her and his history. The intentions had been pure, but as anyone knew, the road to hell was paved with good intentions. It was also the wedding that made Michael realize that he needed to stop lying to himself, and he needed to take that shot to find out once and for all if there was a possibility for them again. He leaned into the kiss and returned her energy and passion just as strong, kissing her hard and the grip on her hips moving up her sides. Soon he was holding her precious face in his hands as their mouths worked together. “I love you, baby,” he returned then kissed her lips a few times then planted many along her jaw and against her neck. His face nuzzled into her hair and his strong arms hugged her dearly to him. “Mine.” “Cum,” Michael instructed, wanting her to let loose on his fingers as she rocked and he simultaneously pumped into her core. His voice was low and almost hoarse with the amount of desire that flowed through his veins for this woman. Thumb pressed to her clit again, he added pressure and rubbed in circles only to abruptly stop and move in the other direction. His lips brushed hers with kisses and his teeth nibbled her when he had to let her pant and breathe. Michael sucked on her neck when he found that rough patch of skin and stroked her g-spot. The man was seeking out that initial release from her, as always they weren’t going the night without making her cum at least a few times. He brushed her hair back off her shoulders and felt emotion well in his chest, his heart pounding over not just trying again with Naomi but the determination to not fail this time and to be blessed with a baby growing inside of her. Hand moving down from her shoulder, he cupped and kneaded her breast, trying to be gentle unsure if she was tender. His head dipped and his face buried into her cleavage, kissing and sucking on her supple flesh and soft moans rumbling lowly in his throat. “You’re so beautiful,” he told her just as his head lifted to steal her lips in another kiss. Michael wanted her out of the dress and completely naked so that he could enjoy her body to the fullest, both visually and physically, but he wasn’t about to bare her in the backyard of her childhood home. “Come on, baby, cum for me,” the retired Marine murmured, fingers brushing her g-spot and thumb teasing her clit.

The groan her tight wet heat so snuggly clinging to his cock elicited was deep and guttural. He was speechless for a few moments as his length reached her depths, his girth stretching and pushing against her walls. “God damn, Naomi,” he finally groaned out, resisting the ache in his balls to just pound into her and unload. No, Michael wanted to take his time with her, as always, no matter how crazy the woman made him for her. His hands squeezed firmly at her hips, picking up pace in rocking her on his shaft and lifting her some, unable to keep his own hips still despite being beneath her. Michael was limited but it didn’t stop the man from flexing his hips and pushing deeper into her every time he’d lower her with each forward rock. She was moaning and he was beginning to join her in what was becoming a chorus of pleasure in her backyard. His hands moved under the hem of her dress and a thumb returned to toy with her clit and the other reached around her to grab a handful of her ass. “Do I need to be careful with this dress too?” A smirk was on his cocky lips.

It was all happening. It seemed as soon as she revealed one little thing, everything else fell into place right afterwards. Sure, they were going about this a bit backwards. Their history was messy and things would need to be formally addressed come another day where her head wasn’t in the clouds... but this was it, this was happening. The universe seemed to always have a way to making things up for her as she went, but for once, she couldn’t help but feel like she was finally on the path of being on the right direction. A baby was a blessing, but with a man who she knew was ready to make every single dream she had come true... well, that was the life every single young girl dreamed of. She couldn’t help the cheesy way she smiled and let her mouth part into the kiss, his declaration of love always causing her heart to swell in her chest. “I’ve always been yours.” She whispered. “Even when we were pretending, baby, it’s always been you.”

Emotions were really high, but the simple fact of the matter was that she now was pretty much speechless. Michael always has a knack for completely shutting her up when it came to being intimate, becoming nothing more than a moaning mess of flushed cheeks and stutters of need. Now, with those thick digits, it was enough for her hips to rock forward in an attempt to get herself off with every movement he made. She moved again, only finding the brief moment of neglect before he was right back where she needed him most. This. God. This was always so much better. Every word he spoke, every move he made... Michael literally was the guy she bragged about. He knew exactly what he was doing. Naomi took account that they still were in her backyard of her childhood home, but given the hour, she had known the ins and outs of her house and that her mother was well away tucked in her own bedroom. The lights were dim and they were very much alone. Arching her back, Naomi then adjusted the cleavage of her top again and slipped her hand around the back of his neck, her lips brushing over his forehead. “Touch me,” Naomi moaned as her head ducked to breathe into his ear. “Baby.”

There was a brief moment where she took to get used to the feeling of him being inside of her all over again before she could settle down on his lap, turning her focus on him completely. His moans were music to her ears, finding the way he could grow louder incredibly sexy despite their limited resources. “Mm?” Naomi reached up and pushed her hair back, finding a smirk on her lips, enjoying the taunting as she got into it. For once, she was back with having the upper hand, and the brunette moved forward to lean into him. “You missed me, didn’t you?” She whispered as she hovered over his mouth, the entire time letting her hips rock forward. Every single movement she made allowed her walls to flutter and adjust to the feeling of his large member filling her up completely, catching the air in her throat. By that time she had reached around and grabbed onto the back of the bench while her other moved around his neck, spreading her legs to grind down against him. She moaned loudly into his ear when he touched her again, this time forcing her to bounce once or twice on his cock. “God, no.” Naomi whined into his ear before reaching around to pull the buttons open on his shirt. She didn’t entirely care much of the temperature of the February air — but that point she was hot enough, and wanted to see more skin. “I don’t care about it.” She licked her lips and bounced her hips again, reaching behind her to grasp onto his knee, her body stretched as she leaned back, giving him ample visions of her half exposed body.

Sometimes that was what it took, something to knock everything else into place. It seemed they had been going in circles and trying to find answers and meanings to things rather than just saying fuck it and being together. The news of Naomi being with child, his child, Michael had that epiphany and wanted to get off the merry-go-round. He was exhausted of trying to give a woman he loved space so she could move on with her life without him. It was the last thing he wanted; for her to be without him, for her to move on and be with someone else. Michael had been in love with her for so long that there was no way there was room for anyone else in his heart, and beyond that the blond man was selfish, he didn’t want to give her the room to have someone else in her heart. He craved that future with her that they had once planned and got so close to starting. Now a baby was created from their inability to abstain from each other and while it wasn’t the plan, it was the gift that gave in more ways that one. They were exchanging those three magical words and he had her in his arms, Naomi was his again, and the world finally started to right on it’s axis. “You’ve have,” he confirmed, heart thudding at her confession. “I think it’s been clear for me too,” his voice was a couple octaves deeper, lust and emotion caught up in his throat, “I was never able to let you go and it feels better than I know how to express to have you back, baby.”

As it was with most men, Michael was very physical and thoroughly enjoyed sex. With Naomi though the act always elevated to a higher echelon. The way their bodies connected and worked together, their passions aligned and he knew every little thing that made her tic, and she of course knew him that well in return. He would hear stories of other men and how they’d get bored of sex with their partners, usually the wives or girlfriends they’d been with for significant amounts of time, and he felt sorry for them. The connectivity he shared with the petite brunette rocking her hips on his fingers was exalted and no other woman could compare to the way she made his heart pound and his blood rush. While he was aware of their location, Michael really didn’t care much if they got caught, they were two adults that now had a baby on the way. Not to mention she was his girl once again, finally. His digits curled and stroked, massaged her spongy walls as he pumped into while she rode. Sapphire hues kept glancing up from her heaving chest to catch all the reactions and pleasures play across her face while the warmth of her first release pooled down his finger and into his palms. The retired Marine was beyond turned on, cock aching and face buried back into the soft mounds of her chest. “Mmm,” he somewhat hummed and grunted in response to her plea. His chin turned up to snatch her lips in a heated kiss and his hand reached into the top of her dress to cup and knead her breasts. His fingers rolled and pinched and tugged on her rosy peaks but it wasn’t too much longer before he had two free hands to tear the front of her dress open.

“Of course,” he groaned. The sensation of being buried to the hilt within her core was indescribable and his abdomen clenched with every little movement she made. She was soft, hot, and hugging his shaft so firmly that when she rocked her hips and began to ride him with a bounce Michael let out a loud groan. His large hand moved up her back and his fingers threaded into Naomi’s thick tresses and fisted a hold, taking more control of her movements. She had his two strong arms wrapped around her small body, hugging her and lifting her, working her harder and faster on his lap once he was sure that she was used to his mass inside of her. “How does this feel?” Michael’s hips grinded and worked some kind of thrust upward, unable to fully match her movements given positioning but he pushed each stroke of his cock into her a little deeper each time. Her lips were practically kissed raw and swollen before his hands moved to her shoulders, releasing her hair but still moving her body at his will. It was his mouth, tongue, and teeth that found her exposed tits then. He sucked on her flesh and moaned against her skin feeling his balls tighten but willing it away. Michael wasn’t ready for this to be over, not yet, not when his teeth were grazing her nipples and pinching them. His lips soothed and tugged on the sensitive nubs. “Fuck you’re beautiful,” he groaned yet again as she leaned back and his mouth was redirected to her sternum and belly. His hands smoothed down her sides, holding her hips firmly once again, grinding her onto him before he snaked his right arm around her lower back so his left hand could dip to where the wet sounds of their lovemaking was coming from. He toyed with her clit at first, flicking the soaked exposed bud then pinching lightly and tugging on her wanting to make her scream.

Just like any other woman with a romantic heart, the knowledge of Michael’s love for her had been enough to completely feel the organ hammering hard within her chest. She was certain it was ready to soar right on out onto the ground, in between his little confession, the emotions over their growing child, and practically making love all over again in the brisk February air... it was a lot to take in all at once. She would have been overwhelmed if she hadn’t had something else to focus on. But in a sense, it was the perfect mixture of matter that she hadn’t realized she had been missing. No longer had she had to wander around aimlessly searching for something she already had — she didn’t have to force something that wasn’t meant for any longer. No, she had him. He was her’s, she was his. She could hardly describe how good that felt. Somewhere in between the lust of their actions, and the heat that swarmed her body, Naomi had brought her hand up to the side of his face so her thumb could carefully swipe over his stubbled jaw, taking in the man before her. Her man, ensuring that he was real. “I love you.” Naomi confessed once more, unsure how many times that evening she was bound to let the three letter sentence slip that evening. She couldn’t help it, either, not with the way he was completely swarming her every last nerve ending in her entire body. Both her physical touch, and her emotions.

Her words had been muffled since half way through, hanging on the you, she leaned back in and stole a kiss. Plump and bruised lips parted in order to deepen the affectionate kiss and slip the tongue along the bottom row of his teeth, practically begging for the entrance only he could grant. Once he had, there was a moan that bubbled from her throat and contrasted over inside his mouth, unable to help herself when she could feel her hips jittering out of pristine pace. That was it — that was the clear sign that it was all too much, and she was falling out of order. The single digits inside her twisted and massaged far enough that Naomi actually came after his command for the first time that evening, leaving behind flushed cheekbones and whimpering noises. Her head tipped back, fingertips moving to grip onto the back of his head, unable to help the low gasp that escaped her mouth. Between the initial shock of the first small orgasm from his hand to the overwhelming feeling of finally connecting their two bodies in the most intimate way one could ever ask for, well, it was safe to say that every single nerve in her entire body was elicited like fire. She was on fire, all because of him.

A loud moan passed through her lips. “I bet you did. I can feel you did.” Her taunts were pretty obvious, he knew she missed him too, but her ego was fueled enough with knowing he missed her more than anyone. Her heart, as well, but her ego often took over this time around. “Did you think about me?” She breathed into his ear, lips ghosting over the shell. She was practically on full display at that point, both with her wrapped dress peeled from it’s tie around her torso and her body leaned back with a grip on his knees, giving Michael the utmost show with the position she had to deal with. “I missed you touching me.” She whispered and licked her lips, brushing her own hand down over her chest, then forward to pull open another button and touch his exposed stomach. Fuck, he still looked and felt so good. There was nothing covering her any longer, other than the remaining material bunched at her waist with no where else to go. She would have been cold from the evening crisp air, but there was something about the wet and hot kisses Michael’s mouth left against her chest and stomach that warmed her right up.

She didn’t know how he managed to completely overload her senses every single time they connected in this way, but even bouncing up and down on his lap in her backyard he had. It was a mix of both sexy lust fueled by a desire to rip one’s clothes off and an act of lovemaking with a partner she had fallen in love with years prior — how that managed to be was beyond her but made the experience that much more enjoyable. Just like that, Michael knew what he was doing when his mouth parted and left a wet trail from her breast to just above her belly button, while moving that grip from her dark hair to her clit. It tugged on her hair in the process, forcing goosebumps to rise on her skin. She whimpered at the move, her hips jerking forward immediately at the knee jerk reaction. “Jesus, baby—,” Naomi whined out, though her body couldn’t take the torture of her position any longer, immediately shooting forward to wrap her arms around his neck, fingertips biting into the fabric loose on the shoulder blades she had access to, before one moved back to his short hair. He questioned her, and she could only moan a bit in response. “It feels so good, baby. Right there, k-keep... oh my God.” There was a certain way his cock swelled inside her that had her gasping and moaning hotly, the shocking feeling being enough to straighten her back and press her chest forward against his face as it for level, becoming a bit taller in his lap. She bounced down hard on his length before bucking her hips again, whimpering into his ear as her body had jerked, unable to help her movements with the tug he gave to her clit. “Michael!"

She was such a stunningly sensual woman, and Michael’s sapphire gaze was glued to her moonlit features in the backyard of her childhood home. Her small frame swayed and her hips writhed while her swollen lips parted to release shaky moans, all signalling the man that had experienced Naomi in every way that she was close to tipping over the edge. He elongated the thrusts of his doubled digits within her pussy and his wrist strongly emphasized the twist to stroke her quivering walls. While his thumb toyed and manipulated her clit, he did his best to return the wet kiss his woman planted on him. He groaned and panted a little as the muscles in his arm displayed and his veins pressed up against the surface of his skin, signs of his continued ministrations all in the goal of giving this little goddess all the pleasure she desired in the world. Her movements rubbed against the pressure his rock hard cock had created under the zipper of his pants and his lids fluttered every time he got a spark of a reaction, something that sent jolts down the length of his shaft, through his balls, and down his inner thighs. His rigid girth was envious as she finally muttered her three little words that meant everything to him and came on his stroking fingers. “Fuck, baby, I love you too,” he muttered against her mouth, grabbing her chin and pulling her lips to his so he could practically plunge his tongue into her mouth and kiss her so wildly.

Finally buried balls deep within her, hips rolling upward and working to drive his cock deeper within the massaging spongy wet walls of her core, Naomi taunted and teased him. Michael loved it though, and smirked at her while she fueled and riled herself up, enjoying the show as she owned just how fucking sexy she was. He watched and practically salivated as her tits bounced with her movements and his rocking into her. The blond even lowly growled when her hands teased over her own body, the one that Michael had long ago claimed as his own, but again, thoroughly enjoyed the display she offered him. Visually he devoured the beauty, and physically he felt he couldn’t get enough. “How much?” He inquired at her missing his touch, one palm smoothing up from it’s firm grip on her hip over her flat stomach to cup and knead each supple breast. His fingers collected her nipples and gently rolled and squeezed them, his hand moving from each warm mountain of flesh to the other and then back. Michael’s grip on her hip snaked his arm around her lower back as he lowered his mouth to his flesh, unable to resist tasting her. “I missed every fuckin’ bit of you,” he finally gave into her taunts, telling the truth. He wanted them each other of their clothing, wanting his hands all over the body he claimed and vice versa, yet there was something so exhilarating about making love like this in her yard.

Times like this the man wasn’t sure how he existed without the constant access he once had to be inside of her as often as they wanted, but the way she rode him and bucked and bounced, Michael was sure he’d never go without again. One month prior they had spent a whole night making love over and over because it was a reunion of their bodies from well over a year, and that month had been excruciating, no matter how dramatic it sounded in the blond’s head at that moment. His cock spasmed the moment his tip touched her cervix and he let out the most guttural groan into the valley of her perky breasts . Michael’s fingers curled in and gripped her flesh a little tighter for a brief few seconds as he rode out the urge to just blow his load and fill her with his hot sticky seed right then and there. Her pussy hugged him like no other and her moans and panting breaths were like a song hitting his ears. Every movement she made rocked his world and when she pressed forward against him his mouth opened and sucked her tender flesh into his hot mouth once again. His face could live in her perfect tits for eternity for all he cared, and his hands yanked some of her dress material aside to grip handfuls of her ass to guide her ride as she bounced on his thick length. Michael moved her fast and hard, and began groaning louder into her chest, turning his mouth to suck on each nipple, biting and tugging on the tender peaks too.

When his hand slipped between them, all it took was one tug on her raw and exposed clit before she was hollering his name in that backyard and he growled, “yes!” in response. “Come on, baby. Look at me.” He was peering up at her. “I wanna see you face when you cum again.” This time she’d cum on his grinding shaft as his hips pistoned like a well oiled machine and worked himself in and out of her. Michael’s favorite thing was to watch her face when he’d make her come, especially when it was coupled with the sensation of feeling her walls spasm and grip him. His fingers teased her eight thousand nerve endings a little more before both hands wound back at her hips to guide her harder and faster up and down his length, ready to pick her up and carry her on inside once her body was quaking with her impending orgasm rolling like waves through her petite body. “Come on, mama. Let me feel you,” he coaxed, smirking at her new title. His sapphire stare was fixed on her, shifting between her face to her bouncing chest, and occasionally to the wet sounds their bodies were making.

There it was. Right there. Hell, she even moaned out loud a little plea of him not to stop and to keep on pressing forward to drive her up the wall. That sweet, hot sensation that Naomi hadn’t realized she had been craving until she had got the little tease of what it felt to be touched by Michael again. She knew by now there was no going back — she simply couldn’t taste the fruit and return it. Almost like an addict, Naomi was hungry for what Michael had been offering. Somewhere in between his fingers deep inside her, her hands moving over her own body, and his fingers grasping her hips to guide her all while he whispered those taunting words to her…well, she was practically breathless. There would only be so much she could take before she was left to be a little hot mess — from both moaning pathetically and quivering in his lap. At this rate, she was pretty damn close. There truly was nothing like Michael, not physically or emotionally. She couldn’t even say there was a single man in this world that made her feel an ounce of what he did, and shake from an orgasm that quickly. Tilting her head back, Naomi let out a brief hum that doubled as a moan and a whimper, finding the way the words left his mouth incredibly sexy. It turned her on, as if the thick member that had slipped inside her like a glove hadn’t done the trick. “Mm,” Naomi moved to slip her hand over the palm that traveled up over her chest, moving his hand toward her mouth, slipping a single digit of his into her mouth. Another moan, this time as she sucked the tip. “You’ve got no idea.” He truly didn’t. His touch, there was nothing like it. All he had to do was tease her and her body responded like she was being sent to heaven and back. Now, with her legs spread and rolling in his lap, ensuring she had felt every single inch of what her man had to offer, was no exception.

She couldn’t take it anymore. Not with the way he was taunting her. Quickly, Naomi found that her hips had rolled that much faster every time his mouth came in contact with her skin, sure enough leaving a promise of a little bruising from the sick. “Baby, that feels so good…” Naomi trailed of with a whine, sure enough certain that the world around them could hear he loud pleas. She just prayed to God her mother or brother didn’t wake up for it, or were even home. But alas, she couldn’t care, because within a split second a fueled desire took over her and her hands flew to grasp onto his chin, angling his face to kiss him hard. Her tongue swirled over the seam of his lips before she was allowed access, moaning inside. It was just a distraction though, just the move she needed before her body was bound to betray her. He wanted her to come with his demands, and who the hell was she to not oblige? Naomi never seemed to be able to deny herself the satisfaction when Michael’s hands roamed her body and he was buried entirely inside her, anyway. At the way he used a new title, it sparked Naomi’s attention away from her bliss, unable to help but smirking over it. “I’m gonna, baby, I’m—,” Goddamn. He was overloading her senses here. It was so sudden but sure enough, Naomi’s jaw slacked to allow her lips to part and a loud moan to escape, hand moving forward to grip onto the side of his neck. When that wave of sweet heat washed over her, her hips did nothing but buck out of time in an effort to ride out the wave, but elicit that satisfaction of clenching around his thicker cock. She grumbled softly and even tilted her head back, unable to help but thrash forward against him, so her chest was back in his face and her body was tense and straight. “Michael, Michael...” Naomi purred a mantra of his name, cheekbones hot with a flushed glazed. “Mm…”

#michael.#closed threads.#february 16th 2019.#nsfw.#can you tell it's spring cleaning #but also rereading this and nasjkdgahd;a

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