#hope i can fix the bike tomorrow

[lostlovepunk]

did a thing that developed into being three things that needed to be done. dead now

[writerracha]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ when you're spaced out — skz moments

↻ 1.5k (150-200 per member) :: established relationships :: mostly fluff. kissing, domesticity, mention of working out. a bit suggestive at times, but no smut.

↻ 18+ mdni :: not proof read, pls be kind :: masterlist

↻ it's my first time writing reactions like this, so I'm a little nervous, I hope some of you guys like it. 🥺!!

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° . chan

“Love?” You blink rapidly, turning towards Chan. He’s standing next to you, leaning slightly against the kitchen counter. “Are you alright? You’ve been washing the same plate for two minutes.” You look down at your hands, realizing he’s right. A laugh escapes your lips as you shake your head. “Wow. I just zoned out.” Chan smiles although you can see the slight worry in his eyes. “You’ve been working too hard. You need more sleep. How about we accept we’re getting old and go to bed early tonight?” You laugh again as Chan starts to help you with the dishes, drying what you’ve already washed. “Actually, I love the idea. But why are you helping me? You already cooked dinner.” you pout. Chan kisses your cheek. “I just like spending time with you, whether it be going on adventures or just drying dishes.” You give him a smile. “And getting to bed early?” He chuckles, nodding. “That too. Anything, as long as I’m with you, my love.” 

° . minho

It is only when Minho waves his hand in front of your face that you notice you’ve stopped pedaling on the stationary bike. You remove your earphones, catching his amused smirk. “Oh, don’t laugh at me,” you pout slightly. Your boyfriend leans against the bike, looking handsome in his fitted black workout clothes. “What were you thinking about like this? I hope it was me.” You shake your head in exasperation, starting to pedal again slowly. “It’s just this song. Reminded me of that time at the beach...” Minho chuckles. “So you were thinking about me.” You laugh. “Yes, but not in that way. Just at how great it was to be there together, watching the sunset.” Minho’s smile softens, and he steps forward to give you a long kiss. “We should go back there next weekend. Just you and me. What do you say?” 

° . changbin

You’re at a small party with friends. Changbin comes back to you after getting drinks to find you standing in a corner on your own, your eyes fixed on the floor, a sad expression on your face. He frowns with worry, approaches you slowly. “Baby?” he asks. When you don’t answer, he softly puts a finger underneath your chin, lifting your face so that your eyes align with his. You blink, coming back to reality. Changbin smiles tenderly. “Where were you right now?” Realizing you were completely spaced out, you chuckle and take the drink he’s offering you. “I have no idea. I started thinking about the work I have to do tomorrow, and…” Changbin slides an arm around your waist and kisses you temple. “Don’t think about that too much tonight. Tomorrow is still far away. Stay with me, okay? And when you feel like your thoughts lead you away, just squeeze my hand and I’ll bring you back.” You look at him, feeling so grateful for him. “I love you,” you smile, and he kisses you in response, clinking his glass against yours. “I’ll always be there for you baby.”

° . hyunjin

“Angel.” Hyunjin gently takes your hand in his, bringing you back to reality. You blush slightly, embarrassed at spacing out like you are. However, your boyfriend only looks amused, perhaps even enamored by your startled expression. “Is the food bad?” He asks. You shake your head, putting down your chopsticks. “No, the opposite, actually. So good I had an out of body experience…” Hyunjin lets out a sincere laugh, his eyes sparkling in the process. He’s brought you to his favorite restaurant for your weekly date, and you know it means a lot to him because he’s friends with the owner. “That good, huh? I ought to bring you here more often.” You smile, taking a minute to look at him. He looks like a dream with his long hair and white button-up. “I’d go anywhere with you,” you smile. “Especially if there’s good food.” He giggles, gesturing you to keep eating. You take a bite from your plate, humming in pleasure. “There’s nothing I love more than seeing you happy like this, angel,” he whispers, tenderness spilling from his voice. 

° . jisung

You jump in surprise when the television suddenly turns off, stopping the anime you’ve been watching. You turn to your boyfriend, who is sitting next to you, your eyes wide in confusion. He’s frowning, looking at you with concern. “Why did you turn it off?” you ask him. Jisung laughs. “I’ve been talking to you for two minutes but you weren’t answering!” You close your eyes, shaking your head, feeling bad. “Ji, I’m so sorry…” He takes your hands, squeezing your fingers tightly. He feels warm and soft. “Are you ok, baby?” You inhale softly, shrugging. “Just spacing out. I can’t focus on anything…” He leans in to stroke your hair, placing it behind your ears. “My baby. It’s ok, we can just cuddle if you want?” You almost want to tear up at his sweetness, and you nod. “I’d like that.” He smiles, pulling you in towards him so you can sit closer, bringing your legs over his, your nose buried in his neck. His hoodie smells so much like him. “Does that feel better? Just close your eyes, baby, get some rest.” He keeps stroking your hair, his breathing steady, and you feel safe there. 

° . felix 

You’re staring at the wall ahead of you, completely lost in thought. You came in the bedroom for something, you just can’t remember what. Suddenly, you feel two arms slide around your waist. Felix pulls you close to him, your back to his chest, and he puts a gentle kiss on your shoulder. That snaps you out of your daydream, but you just smile and relax against his body. He hugs you tight, his cheek finding a place against your hair. He smells good, his fingers interlocked against your stomach, his body warm and familiar. “I was wondering if you got lost,” he says softly. You giggle. “I came to the bedroom and forgot why,” you explain. Felix laughs and the depth of the sound is like music to your ears. It’s your favorite sound in the world. “Blankets,” he reminds you. “For our game night.” You sigh, turning around to kiss the tip of his nose. “Lucky I got you.” His eyes are wide and full of love, and the comfort of his presence is itself a blanket. “Now hurry up. I can’t wait to beat you at that game,” he grins. You scoff, nudging him playfully. “You wish.” 

° . seungmin

You stare up at the ceiling, breathless, a thin layer of sweat covering your skin. You barely notice Seungmin drawing the sheets over your naked bodies, making sure you don’t get cold. He kisses your temple, pulls your still trembling body to him. “Look at you, all spaced out,” he chuckles tenderly. You hear him, but you’re coming down your high still, your body getting heavy with sleep. It takes long seconds before you finally smile, brushing your nose against his skin. His hair is a mess, his familiar smell strong and intoxicating. “I think you just made my brain malfunction,” you chuckle. Seungmin grins. “That was the point. You deserve peace of mind, my love.” Seungmin has just made love to you passionately. It had been a while because you have both been busy, but the both of you were getting cranky, and having sex released the pent-up pressure. You’re so in love with him - the way he makes you feel, the way he takes care of you. He kissed you so deep, so slow, making sure that every muscle in your body relaxed. Now you just couldn’t think anymore - you felt calm for the first time in weeks. “You can sleep now,” Seungmin breathes in your ear. “I’ll watch over you.” 

° . jeongin

When Jeongin squeezes your fingers a little tighter, you realize you’ve been zoning out and haven’t heard what he’s just told you. You look at him apologetically, but he’s already smiling. “Spacing out again?” It’s been happening to you a lot recently. Too much on your mind, not enough rest… Jeongin tugs at your hand, bringing you closer, sliding an arm around your waist. You’ve both dressed warmly for your walk around the park, gloves and hats on. “Yeah, sorry…” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. “It’s okay, babe. We can just walk, we don’t have to talk. But I’m right there if you need to, yeah?” You nod your head, smiling at him. Your boyfriend is one of the best people you know. You can tell him anything, you know that - he will never judge you, and he gives really good advice, too. “I know, Innie. I know. I love you.” His eyes don't leave you for a second. "I love you more than words can say." You let your head fall against his shoulder, and the both of you keep walking, interlocked, the breeze against your cheeks.

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taglist: @lix-ables – @iwannabangchan – @yeongyulix – @xcookiemonsteer – @imtoooyoungforthisshit – @bbujiikseu [ please write if you want to be added or removed or if i forgot to add you (it happens) !! ] 

[sunboki]

— WHEN THINGS WERE SIMPLE a Lee Minho fiction

⭐️ : Lee Minho(Leeknow) x fem. reader

TROPE. school romance, 90’s romance, bestfriends to lovers, online au, strangers to lovers, highschool au, small town au

WORD COUNT. 7.7k ☆ 37 minute read

WARNINGS. light cursing, deep conversation, two teenagers being madly in love(lmao), bankruptcy, anonymous online chatting between strangers — this is in no way recommending anyone to join anonymous chat rooms nor meet up with strangers irl!

AUG'S NOTES. this fic was heavily inspired by “Twenty Five Twenty One” (one of my favorite kdrama!!) and was based around the 90’s when today’s technology was just beginning, i hope you find this piece to your satisfaction! if so, please leave some feedback, thanks :)

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. Lee Minho, the newest resident in your small town, has already established a reputation as the Class President despite moving only a week ago. You, on the other hand, don’t really see the appeal, or maybe your schedule is too jam-packed to consider the prospect of boys. In the meantime, you join an anonymous chat room with this so-called "lino98," and eventually, the stranger recommends that you meet holding a yellow tulip and wait- is that who you think it is? 

or alternatively :

Whoever you’ve been talking to in that chat room was definitely not who you thought would be standing in Marronnier Park with a yellow tulip in hand.

1999.

“Hey! The sign says no throwing!” You scold, rushing to fix the arm to the statue as the tires on the boy’s bike screech to a halt.

And suddenly, it feels like everything’s in slow motion when the perfectly kept head of brown hair swivels back to face you, sharp jawline and piercing eyes belonging to a model-looking stranger you’d never seen before.

Thursday morning was when you first met Minho. Although, you didn’t know his name then, nor that this interaction－the daily magazine breaking your statue’s arm－would change your life.

.

.

.

His expression drops, looking rather bored despite your obviously frazzled (and flustered) state.

“How much?” The bewilderingly attractive boy asks, and it takes you a moment to register what he said, repeatedly glancing from the statue back to him like he was speaking a foreign language.

“It’s.. It’s priceless.” You huff, regarding the stranger with a hard glare as if he’d broken some holy vase or something.

He didn’t.

In fact, the only reason you felt so worked up was because once your parents saw the statue, you’d be grounded in an instant. You, on the other hand, could care less about the stupid piece of marble.

Something about his gaze sets you off, not to mention when he flashes a cheeky grin screaming nothing but trouble.

“Is that so? Then I guess it’s especially priceless now, huh.” He shrugged, kicking the kickstand up and hiking his leg over the seat.

You freeze in your spot, equally stunned with both shock and confusion.

Huh? Where is he going.

Is this guy serious!?

“What’re you- hold on- you can’t just leave!” Racing after him while he positively sped ahead of you on bike, you endlessly shout, slowing down to a halt after a few minutes to watch his silhouette disappear below the winding road traveling down to the village.

Hunched over to catch your breath, you mumble silent curses, dragging heavy footsteps up the small arrangement of stairs to try hiding the broken part behind the statue the best you can.

Brushing off your clothes and adjusting the straps to your bag, you start down the same way he left, stomping and groveling in your misery similar to that of a child denied their favorite toy. It’s quite a sight.

Tomorrow, you’ll give that attractive-Mail-Boy-whose-name-unknown a piece of your mind. You’re sure of it.

Entering the classroom, the first thing piquing your ears wasn’t Soyeon and Hyomin’s daily bickering match about the most random topics (the two you and Yuqi are certain are going to marry one day), but hushed whispering amongst each other.

So, accepting your role as a certified nosy person, you crouch across Yuqi’s desk, craning to make out her way-too-fast-to-be-normal conversation with Rei.

“Psst, Rei, what’s going on?” Blabbering on about whatever the school had been gossiping about, the girl swiftly turned to you, face alight with excitement.

“Have you seen the new guy? He’s an actor, I’m sure of it!”

…Of course. You should’ve known.

Nothing would have Taeyang High School falling over itself faster than a new handsome face.

How disappointing.

Not that you don’t appreciate a good looking person when you see one, but seriously, it could’ve been the upcoming volume of Full House or a class barbecue, something you deemed much more swoon worthy than a boy.

Yet, the transfer student who opened the door mere seconds later looked eerily familiar.

The Mail boy who mutilated your statue this morning is standing there, or are your eyes playing tricks on you? Maybe you’re sleeping at home and this is all a dream. Please be a dream please be a dream please be a dream- Ow!

Pinching yourself did hurt , you were awake, and it was Mail Boy at the front of the class introducing himself.

This week was already off to a great start.

Snapping out of your nightmare to notice him walking in your direction past giggling, lovestruck students to find a seat, you frantically shield either side of your face with your hands. Behind you, Han Jisung, your second best friend to Yuqi, cocks a brow as the boy fortunately takes a seat two rows ahead of you.

It feels like your heart is thundering in your chest with every breath you take, shaking your skull with it’s deafening beating. Any second now he could turn around, and you don’t know why, but the thought of that critiquing stare landing on you again gives you incessant goosebumps.

Sitting through homeroom has never been so suffocating-ly awful, and Jisung can tell when he comes over after class ends, plopping backwards in the chair in front of you to wince at the face you’re pulling.

“I’m cursed, Jisung—“ You childishly squirm, flopping around like some self-acclaimed grub.

Your classmate huffs a humorless chuckle, helping fix a messy strand of your hair before raising from his spot.

“Don’t worry, It’ll only get worse from here. ‘Want a Banana milk?”

Shitty Han Jisung and his shitty personality. Way to lift your spirits, asshole.

“You suck.”

“Two Banana milks it is!” He slaps the wood surface of your desk, breaking into an unaffected smile while hurrying off to the vending machines. Perhaps you’ll just mope till next class, brainstorm the easiest way to glue your statue back together and leave the country while you’re at it.

Abruptly, the minimal view of the classroom from where your head’s wedged between your arms is invaded by a green color, slowly peeking out only to be met with dollar bills waved in front of your face.

Now this had to be a dream. Han Jisung is never fast when it comes to vending machines, usually ogling at options the latest one installed in the cafeteria offers.

Also, for the record, he’s dirt poor like most of the students here.

“Fifty dollars for the damage.”

Damn it!

Still not a dream, because the crisp cash held out to you is none other than Mail Boys’ (a.k.a. Minho’s), staring down at you like you were some insect scurrying near his polished shoes... Or maybe that’s your interpretation of how he’s looking at you.

“This should cover any fees for fixing the statue, I don’t want to deal with you hunting me down every morning when I pass by.” He grumbles, patting the money next to your hand.

You gawk, amazed that he considered at all. What left you more amazed? How he had this amount of money in the first place as a student. Applying for a delivery job may not be so bad after all. That or he does own polished shoes, fancy clothes and a suit with his picture-ready hair and all.

He might as well scream in everyone’s face that he’s rich waving those dollar bills around.

“Keep it. It’s already bad enough it’s broken but it’ll be worse if I have money. Unlike you, I pride myself in being poor.”

There’s that terrifying, critiquing stink-eye again.

“..but my parents don’t, and they would think I stole something.” You quietly add, and Minho almost snorts, appearing to be having a difficult time withholding his bubbling laugh.

Before he can respond though, Jisung steps through the door, stopping in his tracks upon noticing what's going on, beverages in hand.

Noticing the elephant in the room, Minho slides the money closer your way and walks out, leaving you with awkward silence, fifty dollars, and too many questions.

Well, until both Banana milks slam down and your friend snatches the bills with a loud gasp, boba eyes round as saucers.

“Holy shit! I haven’t seen fifty dollars in like, four years. Is that Minho guy your secret boyfriend? Was that why you were acting so weird earlier?”

Not helping with the too many questions part, Jisung. And a secret boyfriend? Does this guy even know you?

“Absolutely not,” You cross your arms, being sure he sees your excessive eye-roll. “He broke my statue.”

In those few seconds of silence you swore he went through at least eight phases of contemplation trying to figure out the context attached to what you said, deciding to just blankly squint till you spilled your guts.

“So you’re telling me,” He points his finger at some imaginary diagram on the desk, focus flickering in every direction trying to connect the dots. “That Mail Boy, no, Lee Minho, threw the newspaper, broke your statue and ran off? This morning?”

There’s a doubtful lilt to his voice while you hurriedly nod, praying the boy will believe you despite how insane it sounds—despite how insane it really was.

“And this isn’t because he’s attractive?”

You cough.

“I mean, he’s attractive, but-“Aha! Finally! A prospect! Looks like my lovely Y/n won’t die alone after all.” Jisung places an over dramatic hand over his heart and you open your mouth, ready to tell him off before the bell rings and all hope of earning any sympathy flies out the window.

Nonetheless, confessing your grievances to the ferociously blunt Yuqi and expecting the newest volume of Full House after school wasn't usually the highlight of your day, but you've come to accept anything away from Mail Boy should be counted as a highlight at this point.

Come to think of it, you haven’t seen the god forbidden statue-killer since morning class.

Eh. He’s probably massacring some more neighborhood statues. He seems like he’d have weird hobbies anyway.

“Sounds a bit like you’re into him if you ask me,” She chews her sandwich, and you might’ve thrown up in your mouth a little bit.

Absolutely not. Your education is far too important to be interrupted by this transfer student. Plus, he also seems uninterested in love, right? It works out .. totally.

“C’mon Yuqi, you know me. The only thing I’m into is good grades and college admission.” You slump against the bench, absentmindedly stealing a few grapes from the girl.

Seriously though, falling in love is not on your roster for high school. At least not for now.

Nope. Take it back. No love. None. Nope.

Yuqi gasping like someone stabbed her seems to pull you from your loophole headspace, grabbing your arm excitedly.

“Oh my gosh! Doesn’t Volume Eleven come out today?” She says, and you might’ve just ascended to heaven.

Ah. Forget good grades and college admission, you’re in love with Full House. Save the boys for later.

She didn’t need to say anymore, because in the blink of an eye you were full sprinting out the gates, mind trained on one thing and one thing only.

Practically singing to yourself with glee, you swing open the door of Myeongjin DVD store, calling out an equally singsong, “Sir— did you save the newest release for m-…”

Huh.

You know those scenes in movies where all the music stops and everything seems to just freeze? Yeah, this was one of those moments.

“Hm?” Is what he responds with.

What Lee Minho responds with, working behind the front desk sorting through rentals.

Come to think of it, this is the first time you’re calling him by his actual name and not Mail Boy.

Strange.

“Ah.. Ahem .. The new volume of Full House, is it saved for me?” You gradually pique, bouncing back and forth on your heels.

Things should be settled by now between you two after he paid you back and all, but you just couldn’t seem to shake the awkwardness compiling in your gut. Like this strange boy that showed up (literally) on your doorstep would get you into trouble.

Placing the book he’d been checking down, he picks up a bulletin board, finger scouring the titles before glancing at you.

“Full House? Nope, we’re all out.”

“Thanks- WHAT?! Look, you might not know, but I’m pretty much the owner’s daughter,” You explain matter-a-factly, cocking your brows expectantly. What kind of stunt you were pulling you didn’t know. Either way, you’d use the many years you lived here before him to the utmost advantage.

Turns out, you definitely should’ve remembered how Lee Minho earned his reputation in the first place.

“So sorry, he didn’t say anything about his beloved daughter paying a visit today.” The man in front of you leans forward, head tilted in a conniving manner.

What. A. Prick.

Jesus he looks good right now.

Opening your mouth to bite back, deja vú plows through like a bus when he cuts you off, light smirk gracing the edges of his lips. Mocking, like when you first met. Mocking.

“But, I’ll be sure to tell you when more are in stock. Deal?”

Oh how you want to beat his stupidly handsome face in.

“Deal.”

Settling down into your chair and repeatedly clicking the cream colored mouse, you watch the blue background fill the screen along with the other person’s username.

Only on stressful nights would you log back into the anonymous chat rooms. Except today wasn’t necessarily stressful, more just leaving you in denial without Volume eleven in hand.

Somehow, these conversations were thrilling in their own, odd ways. Not knowing if the person is your best friend or your worst enemy made the experience all the more fun.

Recently, you'd begun chatting with Lino98, a kind person who apparently moved not too long ago. They gave you the best advice and would always joke around like friends while you talked about love, grades, and anything at all.

In a sense, they were your friend.

YOU: Lino98?

LINO98: Hm?

YOU: What do you want to do in the future? Now that we’re getting older, I’ve been thinking about it a lot

LINO98: Well that’s a random question

YOU: Shhh just answer

LINO98: Okay okay, mine is way out there and pretty unrealistic for a student, but

LINO98: I want to be a dancer

YOU: Wowー dancer? As in, dancing on stage?

LINO98: What else would a dancer do ㅎㅎ

YOU: You know what I mean!! But being a dancer is a good dream. You’ll have to work hard, but it’s your passion, so I shouldn’t be one to judge

LINO98: You’re sweet, saying that

YOU: Hey hey don’t get all sappy

LINO98: I mean it ㅋㅋㅋ

You smile, fingers rapidly typing to keep up with the replies. They had a wild dream, sure, but Lino98 had their own aspirations, and you wondered if maybe in the future you’d see them on TV.

See them in real life. Now that was a thought. Heck, you didn’t even know if they were a boy or girl.

Oh god, what if Lino98 was one of your classmates? Worst case scenario it’d be Minho.

Although, that would never happen, the chances were too slim.

Too slim.. but not impossible. In fact, very much possible because no matter how small the chance is it could always become realit- “Y/n!”

You jump, reaching to turn off the old monitor.

There’s a shuffle outside of your door, the woman’s head peering in momentarily. You have an idea of what she's going to say next seeing you in front of the computer.

“You’d better not be on those chat rooms, I told you they’re dangerous. Also, could you run to the market? I’m missing bean sprouts.”

Bingo.

Patting the doorframe, she disappears once more.

You know she’s right. Sure it could pose a threat, but you’re a student, and adult things like being worried about safety could come later.

However, running into Mail Boy there could also come later, and you debated on turning around before he noticed you. That was, until you remembered the unfortunate errand you’d made the trip for in the first place.

.

.

The last person he expected to find at Ahyeon Market was you, looking equally as shocked with his appearance here as well. Still clad in uniform, he motions from his place on the outdoor bench, patting the spot next to him.

If gears could literally be seen turning in someone’s head he's certain he would have witnessed an entire mechanical process by now, rather amusedly analyzing your angel and devil conversation with cat-like observation.

“I don’t bite y’know,” Breaking the quiet lull, he clicks his tongue, earning a suspicious look.

“And how am I supposed to believe you.” Question rhetorical (he assumes), you approach him slowly, testing, like he’d pounce at one wrong move. The tempting urge to jump and scare you briefly crosses his mind.

“Because,” He bites back a grin. “Our Volume eleven pact, remember?”

Almost instantly, the tense atmosphere dissolves and you plop down beside him followed by hushed “Yeah, yeah”'s muttered under your breath. Barely twenty seconds pass though before you’re bolting to upward (and ironically scaring him instead), glancing left and right.

“I’ll get some Banana milk.” You bolt to the small fridge unit, lips focusedly pursed cashing in your coins.

Minho can’t help but smile to himself at your unbothered-ness, your easiness. You’re kind, not to mention brutally honest on occasions. It’s reassuring being around you, like he doesn’t have to worry about anything. Like, in some sense, his youth is returning to him. Piece by piece.

“Here.” Your voice has his head swiveling, holding a small cartridge for him to take.

“So.. Why’d you transfer here?”

He stares at the drink for a while, though your eyes never stray from his, observing him contemplating, thinking. Cat-like, you agree. Minho greatly resembles a feline.

“You like this stuff, huh.”

“Jisung got me hooked on it, you don’t want it?” Knitting your brows and greedily pulling the drink to yourself, he’s quick to reach forward, grabbing your hand in his.

You hesitate, both frantically searching each other's face before Minho snatches the Banana milk from you, tone suddenly doused in nervousness.

“No- I do, thanks.”

Liar. He hates Banana milk, but he’ll drink it. For you he will.

There’s that feeling again, blooming in his chest and warming up his entire body.

Weird.

It’s like he’s a three year old crushing on his classmate again, awkward and young. In love.

Anyone unlucky enough to witness this obvious pining deserves a written letter of apology.

“Mm..” You hum quietly, aggressively poking your straw through the paper lid.

Minho’s lips form a tight line, fixating on the rotation of his own straw as he aimlessly moves the drink in his hand from side to side.

“My family went bankrupt. That’s why I moved.”

Pausing your movement, you nod quickly and he feels a pang of guilt strike his chest. He shouldn’t have told you that, should’ve kept the comfort and ignored the question. Way to ruin it, jerk.

“What was your first impression of me?” Changing the subject, he clears his throat from the chilling air. So long for the summer heat.

“First impression?” You mimic, appearing deep in thought for a reason he couldn’t help but feel nervous about. Nervous for what, he couldn’t name.

There were lots of things he “couldn’t” when it came to you. It makes things interesting, makes you interesting. Life isn’t boring when with you, something he realizes the longer you accompany him, vice versa.

He can’t make sense of the feeling, ironically enough. Another “can’t”.

“Well, If you want me to be honest,” Glancing over at him from your earlier focus on a neon road sign, you lift your brows, awaiting his signal to go on.

“I thought you were cold, rude, not to mention a pain in the butt. Also, I’m not kidding when I say I was convinced you were a rich and spoiled brat-“ Rapid waving of his hands in front of you stops your train of thought.

“Are- are you being serious or just insulting me.” He interrupts, deadpanning while sending you a rather confused, nonsensical look.

“Dead serious. You wanted the truth after all.” You shrug your shoulders and Minho chokes a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

Unbelievable. Absolutely, unforgivably, unbelievable.

“And what about now?”

More thinking.

“You’re nice to be around, but still a pain in the butt.” Shuffling on the pavement, you pull your coat tighter around yourself, gaze flitting to the crack of smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

With the streetlights automatically turning on, without response, simply a soft look from the boy, he steps forward and wordlessly beckons for you to follow.

Walk home with me, an inaudible invitation, and you tag along accordingly.

He doesn’t want to go home, but he won’t tell you that. In fact, he dreads going home to a silent house. He won’t tell you that either.

Truth being, Minho hadn’t been this happy in ages, and being by you, talking to you, getting to know you and everything in between has brilliant shades of color decorating his black and white world. If only he could muster up the courage to tell you that.

“Shoot!”

Panickedly facing you, surprise lay evident on his usually unwavering features.

“I forgot bean sprouts! Hold on, I’ll be right back.” You pronounce, disappearing inside the Market with the boy right on your heels.

Arriving at the register, he places his wallet on the counter before you could fetch cash from your pocket. Turning to him, you poke an accusing finger against his chest, fixing your attractive friend with a hard stare.

“Minho, I told you rich people paying for poor people isn’t ‘nice’, it just makes us look pitiful.” You pout, and the boy resists the overbearing urge to coo not only from how unfairly adorable you look right now but hearing his name come out of your mouth for the first time as well.

Adorable. What was he thinking using a word like that anyway? He meant something else .. another, descriptive word for something cute… Nevermind.

“Think of it as me paying you back for the Banana Milk.” Giving in the tiniest bit, he lands a small nudge against your side, earning an equally playful shove back.

Laughter envelops the both of you, walking from the store with bean sprouts in clutch and pink hues decorating your cheeks whether from giggling or something else. Swinging the bag beside you, a fleeting thought of holding it for you crosses Minho’s mind. Should he? What if you say no and things become awkward again?

God, why is he complicating things so much recently. Just do it, Minho. It’s not that difficult.

“You know how much I gave the cashier for those drinks?”

Quickly pulling his hand away from where it reached for the plastic, his grimace becomes instantly replaced with feigned curiosity in hopes you didn’t notice.

Holding eye contact has never been difficult for Minho. In fact, he’s a pro at it …with everyone but you. So when you study him with those brilliant eyes, he can feel his ears burning bright red.

“Yeah? How much?” He mischievously replied, watching you light up.

You have a particular smile, the one that transforms your face so prettily, the one that makes his heart thunder in his chest. He really likes that smile.

“Ten dollars. Can you believe it? I could buy a mansion with that money.” You hum sarcastically, tumbling all over the sidewalk while being kindly beckoned away from the road by the concerned boy.

“Hey Minho?”

He turns to you.

“What do you wanna do when you grow up? Y’know, after High school and University.”

Opening his mouth to respond, he can’t help but find the question eerily familiar.

“Since I was a kid I wanted to be a Dancer. I actually auditioned a few days ago, but I probably won’t make it.” The dark haired man humorlessly laughs, actively avoiding your attention.

You frown, he doesn’t notice.

“You don’t know that. I don’t know what I want to do, but riding in a sports car sounds nice. It doesn’t have to be realistic, we’re young.”

There it is. This was the easiness he was thinking of, your unbothered-ness. All of the things he finds himself smiling about. The things he looks forward to dropping off your mail in the morning to see.

“..A sports car?”

Once comfortable silence interrupted by his snickering, you wack his arm for the nth time that night, sending him a faux glare.

“Oh look! It’s my stop!” You interject, hiking up the stairs to turn around and see him looking up at you, eyes crinkled with a small smile adorning his face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow! Goodnight, Minho.”

Minho thinks you're very, very cute.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

Minho hopes you think he’s cute too.

Days go by, some long, some short, with August feeling extremely drawn-out and uncomfortable—leaves gradually beginning to brown for autumn.

As for September, you’re still waiting for Volume eleven from Minho, incessantly dropping by the DVD store to annoy him into leaking some info about when the next batch will be shipped.

“It’ll be next week”, “It’ll be next week”, “It’ll be next week,” is what he always says every week until you’re quite certain next week has happened four times already.

On a different note other than your Full House dilemma and impending exams, Minho had been elected Class President, Soyeon and Hyomin are getting closer to officially dating (from you and Yuqi’s observations), and Jisung is currently keeping count of how many girls confess to Mail Boy each semester.

Don’t ask about the last one.

Expecting someone like Yuqi to be running up to you so early on your walk through the school gates, you blink twice to realize it’s Minho instead, something in hand and positively glowing with cheerfulness.

“Y/n!”

Spinning around, you mirror his overwhelming energy and narrowly dodge getting run over in the process.

“Guess what.” He grins, looking scarily enthusiastic compared to usual.

“What?” You ask, already lost in the way his caramel globes for eyes seem to practically sparkle.

“I got accepted! I’m going to be a trainee!” Shoving the acceptance paper in your face, you scream, covering your mouth in disbelief.

To say you both jumped is an understatement, basically frolicking around the courtyard like lunatics. Well, before you realized the entire jumping and frolicking thing and hurriedly returned to your normal, stiff high school selves.

“Also, the Full House shipment came in this morning.”

…

He’s kidding. You’re kidding.

Oh my god you could kiss him right now. Good thing you didn’t say that out loud.

Running as fast as you possibly could with the boy yelling for you to slow down, you mercilessly slam the door open, manically searching through boxes until the beloved, astounded, mystifying book rests peacefully in hand.

Heaven’s gates should’ve opened up by now.

Taking his sweet time as if this wasn’t one of the greatest moments in life, your counterpart casually strolls up to the register, appearing to check out the rental despite holding your precious book hostage after scanning the barcode.

“You don’t care about me making the cut, do you?” He pouts, lip pitifully jutting out.

Mouth left agape, you swiftly bite back what you’d planned to say about the deal, stumbling over sentences to find an excuse.

“I do! I swear! Now give me the book.. please?” Sporting the most genuine tone you could manage, you snatch the book he begrudging lowered down, hugging the prized possession close to your chest.

“Fine, liar.”

Yikes, talk about a grumpy face. He looked like a kicked puppy. You didn’t even think that expression was possible for Lee Minho.

However, you also didn’t think it was possible to feel sort of upset about it. Not his grumpy face, no, but him getting accepted. Wasn’t this a happy occasion? Volume eleven was released and finally in your possession and your friend was now going to be a trainee, now going to chase his dream of becoming a dancer.

So why did you feel sad walking back to school?

It felt wrong, you felt wrong, and the disgusting feeling only grew worse as the day went on. Heck, looking through pages and squealing with Yuqi—an activity that normally helped lift your spirits—didn't feel as reviving.

Later that day you asked him when he’d be leaving to train, leaving for Seoul, far from here. You dreaded the question, but at least it gave you time to prepare in a sense.

“January,” he replied, eating his apple as if it wasn’t the end of September, as if your heart wasn’t splintering into a billion tiny pieces.

Perhaps somewhere, hidden in his unaffected façade, he felt a tad bit upset like you did.

‘It doesn’t have to be realistic, we’re young.’ You recalled assuring him at Ahyeon Supermarket back in August, thinking it wasn’t going to be real, believing it wasn’t going to become reality.

If only you had known.

Adult things were climbing from the busy city into your small town. You weren’t ready.

So when life becomes increasingly overbearing, you log back in.

YOU: Today has been so draining.. I want to wake up and everything to be a dream

LINO98: Need to vent?

YOU: I thought you’d never ask ㅠㅠ

LINO98: Alright alright, go on

YOU: Well I have a friend, and he’s getting to do something he’s always wanted, but it means he’ll have to go away for a while and I can’t help but feel sad

LINO98: Feeling sad is normal, there’s nothing wrong with that

LINO98: It makes you feel like everything you’ve done with them was taken for granted, don’t you think?

YOU: That’s exactly what it’s like

YOU: If you're okay with it, could we meet up and talk? I mean, we’ve been talking for a while now and I just thought

LINO98: Would Marronnier Park work?

YOU: Didn't think you’d be so willing

LINO98: What can I say, we work well together

YOU: How will we find each other though?

LINO98: Hm.. theres that flower shop nearby, right? Bring a yellow tulip and I will too, good?

YOU: Tomorrow at noon?

LINO98: I’ll be there

Yellow tulip, noon, tomorrow. You sigh a stretching grin, clicking the small exit button before flopping onto your bed.

Only downside of this would have to be your inability to sleep, mind unable to calm itself down as you lay awake. Tomorrow you meet Lino98, someone truly cherished for all their help and kindness.

Eyes slowly drifting closed, you can’t help but hope meeting them in real life will ease some of your troubles. Even just a tad.

Springing from bed that morning, you make your daily stop at Myeongjin DVD store, attempting to drag Minho outside to grab dessert with you while he complains of having plans.

You grumble, growling to him you’ll enjoy the sweet treat more by yourself, his saccharine farewell fading into the distance as you close the door behind you.

Luckily, there wasn’t anything that could truly damage your happiness today(despite really wanting to get desserts with Minho) while picking up a yellow tulip on your way to the meeting location.

Gosh, your stomach was doing backflips right now.

Locating the park’s sign, you stopped and patted yourself down for a moment.

Alright. Now time to start guessing. Would they be a girl? Be a boy? Maybe they’d be Yuqi. That would be hysterical. You mean, you’re soulmates at this point, it’d make plenty of sense.

Venturing inside, you shuffle between people in search of the same flower being in someone else’s grip till finally spotting it, hidden between two people in front of you.

If they would just scoot over a little bit.. there! Now you can see ...them.

Oh.

Making eye contact, you watch them realize, beginning to back up.

You don’t know why you run away, you don’t know why your legs won’t stop and why the person keeps calling out behind you.

Funny that the slim chance you mentioned turned out to be true.

Today you met Lino98, someone you'd truly cherished for all their help and kindness prior to learning who they were.

Today you met Lino98 at Marrionner Park holding a yellow tulip, but the person in front of you was Lee Minho, flower in hand and staring directly back at you.

December gradually rolls around, and usually you’re ecstatic seeing all the lights and festivals Taeyang High hosts as Christmas and new years approaches, especially with next year marking a new millennium.

After the news of Minho’s departure though, it’s hard enjoying the holidays knowing he’ll be leaving only a week or so into January.

No. You should soak up your last month or so. This is the most important part, you can’t be miserable when he hasn’t even left yet.

Despite how badly you want to see him all the time, nothing came easy with his identity revealed.

You weren’t angry nor embarrassed. And initially, you didn’t feel anything, you just stared at him across the park, wondering if all of these coincidences were dreams, your loneliness causing hallucinations of a sort.

Regarding the running away part, that was more of a “need to get my thoughts together” reflex, a desperate and last resort you now deeply regretted holed up in your room with Yuqi’s voice ringing through the home phone.

Yes, you’d like to say you dealt with the matter like a responsible almost-adult.

You didn’t.

“Yuqi… I’m ruining my own life and I can’t do anything to stop it..” You hiccup, loud sobs echoing through the empty household.

She clicks her tongue, once patient and understanding persona instantaneously snapping.

“Yah!” The girl shouts, and you flinch on the other side of the line. “Keep saying stuff like that and you really will ruin your own life! I know no one warned you that falling in love with him would be like this, but seriously, I am not letting you waste this last month avoiding each other!!”

In spite of her reprimanding you, her intentions are clearly aimed towards wanting the best for the both of you, and you know you should be grateful in return.

“I’m not in love with.. My god I am in love with him, what do I do—“ You drag out, dissolving into more cries.

It’s true, both her point and the fact that you’re unabashedly in love with him. All of it. From first meeting him, avoiding him, making up, becoming close and convincing yourself you weren’t looking for a relationship, and now avoiding him again. You’ve always had that feeling, that lingering affection teetering back and forth between the line of friends and lovers.

Although, your friend’s sigh suddenly gets cut off by another person, and you briefly wonder if her younger brother took it before making out the name Yuqi yelled in the distance.

“Yeesh you sound ugly when you cry.”

Is that.. Jisung?

“Han Jisung, give me back the phone!”

Jisung over at Yuqi’s house. Weird.

“Just one seconds this is important~” He whines, and from the sounds of it is also currently running away from what you assume to be a raging Yuqi.

“Okay so Yuqi, Soyeon, Hyomin and I are planning the craziest new years bash ev-“HAN JISUNG!” Phone finally finding its way back to the original holder, you can hear sly giggles echoing in the background.

She audibly groans and you can easily imagine her hands threading through long blonde locks of hair, probably visibly resisting the urge to bury her companion. You can’t help but smile.

Just so you know, only Jisung and I are here so don’t worry about the public humiliatio- aw shit there's thirty seconds left on the call- anyways, be sure to stop by my place on the 31st, we have a surprise for you!” Time limit ending without another word, you take the time to connect the dots with Jisung’s “new years bash” and Yuqi’s “surprise”, to expect a small party of some kind.

With those two arranging it, you don’t know what to expect.

Why not? The reasons to say no are basically nonexistent.

Christmas break officially starting, students clambering from school grounds, and your daily “avoiding Minho” schedule on hold now that you’re out till the end of January, the anticipation of this upcoming party creeps closer. That, and how you plan to talk to Minho.

You aren’t stupid, and you didn’t ignore what Yuqi had said about avoiding each other either, fully aware of how essential coming to terms was for the sake of your friendship, and at least for you, for the sake of your love too.

The real question was when, something you’re still trying to figure out on the 30th of December. Way to procrastinate.

Before tonight you’d never hesitated talking to Lino98 (Minho), deleting your message at least a dozen times before clicking the send button and preparing to hide under your comforter for the rest of the night. Keyword: preparing. Because when you anxiously peered between your fingers to see a response beneath your message, you might have just jumped out of your skin.

YOU: Hey, can we talk?

LINO98: I thought you’d never ask

YOU: About meeting up.. I want you to know I’m really not mad at you

LINO98: You can be honest, Y/n

YOU: I am, promise

YOU: It’s so much easier talking online than in person, but I really want to see you

LINO98: Same, but I doubt I’ll be able to say the same things in person

YOU: I think that’s something we can both agree on

LINO98: Hm

YOU: I’m busy tomorrow, but maybe the next day?

LINO98: Seems we still work well together

YOU: Don't say that, I’ll get PTSD..

LINO98: Sorry sorry ㅜㅜ

Little did you know you were both busy doing the same thing after nobody mentioned Minho would be at the party as well, too stunned to speak seeing him sit around the enormous pile of snacks and drinks laying in the middle of the floor.

However, you found it in yourself, not only because of the minimal time you had left but also because of your conversation last night, to move past the tension.

Like adults.

What a bizarre phrase coming from you.

And it looked as if he felt the same too.

Lively conversation filled up the small space, and six kids, six adults, sat around an army of junk food and held a pitiful excuse for a party while using this time together to forget, if just for a moment, about life outside the room.

You couldn’t have had more fun talking and catching up, not to mention the curdling screaming when Hyomin and Soyeon announced that they were officially dating, bouncing around whilst stuck in Yuqi’s bone-crushing hug of delight.

The clock ticked on the wall, and after hours of bringing back old memories and suggesting new ones, a few attendees began to slip away, gradually leaving only you, Minho, and Yuqi to occupy her living room.

She yawned beside you, half-lidded eyes making her sleepiness rather apparent. Patting your shoulder, the girl rose up, trudging toward the door.

“Alright I’m tapping out, see you guys next year.” She quietly mused and you cracked a sarcastic laugh, both wishing her good night before the sound of the knob clicked shut behind her.

It’s just you two now, watching the live broadcast in a numbing peacefulness. It stays like that for a long time, basking in the presence you’d been deprived of after that fateful day.

You stifle a chuckle.

“It wasn’t my intention to fall in love with you, but I guess I couldn’t help it.” You wistfully smile, back leaning against the wall clad in your heavy sweater and socks.

You hear him take a deep breath.

“I could say the same,” He whispers, eyes trained on the celebration airing on TV. “I bet you were upset that I’m Lino98.”

You pull your knees closer to yourself, listening to the two minute warning the reporter announces.

The room once busied becomes quiet apart from television chatter and your hushed talking. In a few minutes it’ll be a new Millennium, the 2000’s.

You should feel happy, knowing you’ll graduate soon, knowing that a new year is beginning. You’ve tried, truly, but you can’t find it in yourself, not with the circumstances.

“I’m not upset. I was just being selfish because I didn’t want it to be any harder seeing you leave.”

The circumstances seem to steal everything away. Minho must know that much better than you do.

Except you have this moment right here, right now, that the circumstances haven’t taken away yet.

He utters a pained sound, a sound that feels like crying. You don’t dare say anything.

“Don’t people,” He stops, waiting for you to look to your right, look at him and his glossy eyes. You’ve never seen Minho emotional, and you wish you never had. It feels cruel. Immeasurably cruel.

“As I speak, we have ten seconds till 2000.”

He opens his mouth again.

“Kiss on new years?”

You can hear the countdown begin.

“Ten!”

Minho has a wistful smile, dancing from your eyes to your lips.

“Nine!”

Should you take the chance?

“Eight!”

Will this hurt you?

“Seven!”

Haven’t you been hurting enough?

“Six!”

He’s leaving in a few days.

“Five!”

It’s now or never.

“Four!”

You lean forward, lips softly connecting with his. They’re soft, his lips, and he angles your head from side to side with a gentle touch, palms enveloping your cheeks, holding you close. Your skin feels like it’s on fire. Everything feels like it’s on fire. Ferociously alight and blazing.

“Three!”

He whispers something between your lips, you can’t hear it.

“Two!”

Partially, you feel grateful you couldn’t.

“One!”

Fireworks burst in your peripheral, littering the screen with a bountiful assortment of lights and cheers.

The new year had begun, and so had a different chapter in everyone’s lives. Both your classmates, and especially yours and Minho’s.

“Let’s welcome the year 2000!”

2000.

LINO98: Don’t get too excited, but I’m outside your house, come quick

YOU: Didn’t we see each other yesterday?

LINO98: Are you saying you’d rather stay in? I thought you loved me

YOU: Fine you big baby, but I’m going back to sleep after this

LINO98: Sounds good to me〜

You groan, dragging yourself out of your covers at the speed of a turtle to organize the unruly chaos ensuing in your disheveled hair and pull on your shoes.

In all honesty, you can’t even remember how you got home last night, only recalling that Minho tasted like Coca cola and that you had a roaring headache.

Minho tasted like Coca cola. You kissed Minho.

Wow.

Maybe the adrenaline had taken over last night considering how your face erupted red merely thinking about it the next morning.

A honk sounds outside and you jump slightly, mind sifting through ideas of what exactly the boy had gotten himself into this time. With Han Jisung’s influence yesterday, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was in a fancy sports car or something.

Scratch that, he was in a fancy sports car, and you had to blink repeatedly to check if you were awake.

Did he have a license? Wait, nevermind, since when did he own a car?

“What is this, you may ask?” He gestures to the bright red convertible Mustang, tipping down the sunglasses perched on his nose with a cock of his brow. “Well, since I‘m getting to do what I wanted when I got older, I thought it was only fair you got to do what you wanted to too. Sports car, right? Hop in.”

Oh. My. God.

You just keep falling in love with Minho over and over again.

Breathing a laugh of disbelief, shock, and every other emotion making a pit stop while standing in your pajamas, you cross your arms, sending him a suspicious stare.

“And might I ask how you got your hands on this thing?” Smile threatening to appear, you stave down the urge, struggling to maintain your unconvinced poise under his watchful eye.

“Let’s just say I know a friend who knows a friend-“Y/n! What happened to our statue?!” Your mothers shouts from up the stairs and you practically leap into the passenger seat, frantically urging him to step on the gas.

“Only took her a few months,” Your personal driver huffs amusedly, quickly putting the vehicle in reverse to flee the scene. Ah.. You’re not looking forward to the trip home.

Luckily, you’re not home, and you hope you won’t be for a while. Instead, you’re driving through side roads with Minho and his stupidly attractive sunglass-clad self, and it feels like you’ve just started high school again.

Minutes pass, maybe hours. You wouldn’t have been able to tell, too caught up enjoying it. The sights, the smells, the sounds, all of it. Enjoying everything.

Slowing down to pull into a small alcove overlooking the ocean, the boy leans his seat back and you do the same, warm sun baking down on the dark interior. You reach a hand forward, fingers tangling with his.

“Can we stay like this forever?”

He smiles.

“Forever it is.”

2009.

Scooting the metal chair to the side, Minho takes a seat, adjusting the collar of his shirt that earns a few screams here and there alongside the merciless flash of camera shutters swarming in every direction. Today marks his first fansign as a group, as a member of Stray Kids by the stage name Lee Know.

Exhilarating, perhaps. Terrifying, also perhaps.

Initially, he was anxious, worried he’d come off as cold and rigid followed by the other lovely assortment of offensive adjectives you used to describe him standing outside of school that day in August.

Life was different then, just as it is now. Although, he’s not unhappy with how things turned out, nor how life changed since high school.

Tonight you’d text him (like you did every night since he first left) about the fansign, asking if he found anyone cute (the answer would always be you) and telling him about your day, your changed life.

He’d listen, give his most-always teasing input, smile at your equally teasing retort and tell you to eat well and take care of yourself.

“Good morning Minho— ah, wait, I should call you Lee Know now, shouldn’t I?”

A voice stirs from in front of him and he’s certain he’s officially going insane. But no, it does belong to you, in the flesh, mesmerizing eyes disappearing as you grinned while plopping down onto the stool below.

“Do me a favor and act really obsessed with me for a minute, I want to make your fans jealous,” You giggle, leaning closer to whisper the petty request.

In the midst of his shock he scoffs, appearing profusely offended.

“And you still suck at introductions. Not even a congratulations, ouch.” The brown-haired now-Idol frowns, behaving more like a child than ever before.

His status as a normal person might’ve developed (Minho was never a normal person), but he still retained the maturity of a twelve year old.

“Oh, dearest apologies my beloved Lee Know.” Basically gagging, you balance your chin on your hand, once teasing expression replaced with a smile that makes his heart downright ache.

“Congratulations on becoming a dancer, Minho. I missed you.”

sunboki, may 2022 ©

FIC TAGLIST. @dorisnumber1fan @mal-lunar-28 @httphans @virluna148 @bettybeako @grannyindehouse @minhaurloml @ylixbok @inkelea @luna585 @hyunbae-35

[stuckymonkey]

Ride

Natasha Romanoff

Pairing - nat x agent!reader

Summary - y/n has a special mission...seduce nat. she learns about what gets the gorgeous redhead to tick, eventually winning her over with a fun ride...

Warnings - implications of sexy times, flirting, reader is female, use of y/n

Word count - 1.5k

a/n - this is a ship I am hoping to write about more! this idea came to me and it was just too hot not to write

masterlist natasha romanoff

She was gorgeous. And completely off limits. Natasha Romanoff. She sat on one of the couches adjacent to mine during another team movie night. Sam had chosen a rom com, again. She laughed at one of the scenes, throwing popcorn in her mouth after. Natasha was so adorable in her pink pajama shorts that I wanted to feel so bad.

I've been on the team for just over a year, working privately before that as a Shield agent and one of Fury's few favourite and trusted people. I was born and trained in Europe before moving to NYC for school. That's when I was recruited by Fury and Stark to join the Avengers. I had quickly made friends with Steve, Bucky and Sam.

Natasha and Wanda soon became my friends as well, although while Wanda had become my friend instantly, Nat took more time to warm up to me. But when she did, oh man, it was amazing. She laughed with her whole body when she felt comfortable, and she talked freely around those she could trust. I was honoured when I became one of those people.

After tonight's movie night, we'll have a short mission tomorrow consisting of Steve, Bucky, Sam, Nat and me. As the movie ended I watched the redhead get up and bring her blanket back with her to her room. I helped Sam clean up a bit before heading to my own room, passing Natasha's on the way.

I stopped and knocked gently, surprised when I heard a clear "Come in," from one of my favourite voices. "Hey," I smiled. "Hey," she said, smiling back. "I just wanted to say I hope you have a good sleep before our mission tomorrow." I said. "Aw, thanks y/n/n. You too." Her soft smile reached her eyes, making her cheeks plumper than usual. "Thanks,"

With that, I headed to my bed, happy at being able to hear her voice and see her face as one of the last things before I fell into a deep sleep.

I sped past Steve and Bucky who were acting as lookouts, heading towards the abandoned hydra base where I would be meeting Sam. The motorcycle sped under me as I raced towards the checkpoint.

Nat was in the jet, giving us navigation directions. She successfully got us through the unguarded hallways and into the necessary room to gather intel for the usb drive in my pocket. It was a quick in and out after getting the needed information about a new HYDRA weapon. "Good?" Sam asked, standing behind me to watch the door. Even though this place was mostly empty, you never knew when it came to these idiots.

"Good." I replied. I pulled the drive out of the device, putting it back in my pocket. "We can go now," I said, following Sam out of the room. "Perfect. You'll ride back, and I'll fly?" He asked. "Sounds good to me," I said, flashing him a smile before straddling my bike as he flew off back to the jet.

When I passed Steve and Bucky's spot, they were already gone, probably headed to the jet. As I got closer I saw everyone standing out side of the jet's ramp. I drove straight past them, up the ramp and on to the jet.

I walked back down the jet to meet up with the other team members. Nat's gaze was fixed on me. "Hi," I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth and bit on it. Her eyes darkened and she swallowed, "H-hi." she blinked quickly as if to make sure what she was seeing was real. I usually fought in a regular tactical suit. Seeing me in a low cut red crop top and black leather jacket with ripped black jeans must have thrown her off.

"Might want to close your mouth, Natty, the drool's gonna slip out." I sassed, giving her the most seductive look I could. See, Nat could seduce anyone easily. Especially because they were already probably seduced before she even showed them any attention. So to seduce Nat was quite a bit harder, but I wanted her. And I wanted her bad.

After working with Natasha for several months, I knew just how to make her flustered: act confident, use your eyes and your mouth. So far, it was working. I could see a blush creep up her neck and just barely reach her cheeks. She turned her head away to avoid my gaze.

She followed everyone else onto the jet, I sat near her. I slowly took my jacket off and put it on my lap, sighing in content as I did so. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her head whip around to meet my body, letting her heavy gaze rest on me.

Real subtle Nat, I thought. By the time the jet landed, Nat rushed off and probably back to her room. Now I was kind of scared that I had made her uncomfortable. Most of the team knew about my crush on her, and I received a questioning glance from Wanda. Not knowing what else to do, I just offered a shrug in return before heading back to my room.

I had an excellent plan: shower, get changed, order takeout, bring said takeout to Natasha's room and see what was going on. I twisted the knob to my door, startled at seeing the redhead perched on the end of my bed. "Nat?!"I asked. "Hi," she replied shyly. "Hey, um, what are you doing here?" I asked. She shrugged but her eyes never left mine.

"Are you okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable today, I thought you were checking me out, but maybe I misread it! Anyways, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, so if I did I am so so sorry, and if you want we never have to speak of this ever again." I watched her for a reaction, the only thing I noticed was her eyes that were practically undressing my breasts, still covered in the red low cut crop top.

Slowly she got up from my bed and came to stand in front of me. Both of our hearts were beating out of our chests. I looked from her eyes, to her lips and back again. "Kiss me," she whispered. "Please."

"I always thought you would be the confident one in the bedroom," I commented, earning a light slap to my arm. "Just kiss me." she said. I gently cupped her neck with both of my hands, bringing her lips closer to mine, gently brushing them over my own. She grabbed onto my waist and pulled me closer, jamming her mouth onto mine.

I moaned at the feeling, moving my hands to thread through her red hair. "Nat," I moaned again as she licked my lower lip, slowly, teasingly. "Hm?" she started walking backwards toward my bed. I didn't know we reached it until she fell back, me landing on top of her.

We both erupted into giggles and went back to lazily making out. She shed her jacket and I offered her some pj's so we could cuddle up and watch something together. "Oh! I forgot, I had this plan to get you takeout and bring it to your room, but you were already here so...would you like some takeout?" my tone was sheepish as I waited for her answer. ''Sure, sweetheart." "Okay, Chinese sound good?" I beamed. "Perfect."

Her lips landed softly on mine once more, letting me put our order in as she got changed in my bathroom. She came back and joined me on my bed, snuggling in under the covers and searching for my TV remote. I watched her as she pulled her lip into her mouth, focusing on finding something to watch.

The rest of the night was filled with cuddles, stolen kisses and gentle touches. Eventually the movie ended and Nat stayed the night, falling asleep under warm covers with her head on my chest and my arms circled around her waist.

I couldn't wait to wake up with the redheaded woman of my dreams, and kiss her good morning. Except this wasn't a dream, this was real and I was beyond thankful for it.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Hop to it Tink

Pairing: Thumper & Tink

Summary: As the mid 60’s consume Elvis with his ever more arduous film schedule and immersive hobby pursuits, Elaine crafts a friend out of a rival. For either spouse it’s not the ideal of way to cope with a lost child and estrangement, but the confusion that can occur from dumping any old thing into a wound to close it up is enough to bewilder the most grounded person. Much less a young girl like Elaine Presley who finds herself scrambling for a hint of girlhood as her five children and husband rely on her to keep it all afloat. Just as she’s going under, a pretty painted hand lifts her up.

Dedicated: to Ashley and Christi who both begged for this to be written and added so many details themselves that enriched it. Credit is also due to @prompted-wordsmith for the wicked suggestion of Benetint being used herein.

Warnings: sensuality, 18+, no outright smut but many mentioned offscreen acts, suggestiveness, this can be read as two girl friends or a little more, I tried to keep it nebulous as I imagine it would feel for Elaine herself in her exploration. a rather alarming emphasis on feet, pampering and painting toes and Elvis being overly into that, phone teasing, Larry being a little too psycho analytical over why Elvis and Elaine are having trouble after Jo, mentions of a stillborn, mentions of marital dissatisfaction, hinted male infidelity, hinted Polaroids and homemade spicy films, Elvis turning shit into being erotic that isn’t? That’s men for ya. And then just fun fluffy stuff with the kids but that’s no warning. I didn’t edit this really, I’m too tired, my apologies for any errors.

Requested: yes ✔️

Circa: 63-67

“Hey Tink?” Ann’s voice, always enviously soft even while sounding mischievous, asks abruptly in the middle of an hour long chat.

“Oh what now?” Elaine giggles into the gold phone Elvis has stashed on his nightstand, feeling silly to be sat on her bed in the middle of the afternoon, frittering it away with chatting and giggling to a friend.

That’s rather proof that Elaine needs it. Too much ‘strictly business’ in her life these days and Elaine knows if Elvis were here he’d be poking her forehead and making her fall back and put her feet up. She taps them on the floor instead, tap tap tapping her heeled boudoir slippers on the bed frame in a giddy tick as she waits for her friend to spring whatever wickedness is behind that tone of voice.

Her friend.

Elaine had hoped Ann would like her, be willing to be a buddy to THE Mrs. Presley but what they’ve got now is something she didn’t even think girls could have. It makes her view Elvis and his buddies more tolerantly, the stupid and goofy comradery she was starved for without even knowing it has slowly had its way with her in the form of Thumper and bike riding with Thumper and chatting with Thumper and kissing Thumper while Elvis writhed beneath them…so maybe it’s not like his mafia boys at all, but somehow it’s deeper despite the unorthodox beginnings and carnal undertones that seep in and out of it at whim.

“Whatcha got going on tomorrow night?” Ann asks at last, sounding altogether too nonchalant.

Elaine's heart pounds and she purses her lips, sensing a game here. She’s so like Elvis, this friend of hers, maybe that’s why Elaine gets butterflies in her belly at the chance to see and enjoy Ann, or when the telephone rings and it’s her sweet self sounding like she’s actually had to pace herself from calling Graceland when she knows full well Elvis isn’t home. She calls for Elaine, and something about that makes Elaine bite her nails and kick her feet.

“Oh not much, Jack and Jesse are trying the scuba gear in the pool right now,” Elaine sighs, “and if they don’t die tonight I suppose I’ll be here tomorrow making sure they’re still breathing and fixing sandwiches and seeing to it that Ella’s got her puppy ready for the show.” she waits a beat and adds, “You know full well he isn’t gonna be home.”

“Who?” Ann asks with overacted ditziness.

“Him.” Elaine rolls her eyes, “At least another five days away, stupid Arizonan weather has decided to rain and there has to be reshoots.”

She can hear Thumper humm on the other line with something that’s more contemplative than compassionate for Elaine’s empty bed. “How’re your toes?” she asks.

Elaine peers over the fluffy slipper tops and the profusion of lime green feathers adorning the slippers, “Decent, but they’ll need to be redone before he gets back.”

“Red?”

“French tip.”

“Hmm, Pink next, I think?” Thumper says.

“Yeah alright.” Elaine bites her lip and makes herself stop or else they’ll start peeling and need more Vaseline.

“I have to be in LA day after tomorrow. And I have a flight tomorrow morning. It stops in Memphis.”

“How nice.” Elaine murmurs, pulling on her lip now, slightly better than biting, she supposes, and it hides her grin from the gal a thousand miles away in New York.

“Yes, I thought so.” Ann agrees.

“And it’s such a long flight, New York to LA.” Elaine coos, “You’d get cramp if you didn’t break it up, can’t have you holed up like that, unable to walk out the shakes.”

“No, you wouldn’t want it for me, would you?” Ann babifies her tone and Elaine does fall back into the covers grinning stupidly up at Elvis’ ugly harem lamp above her.

“No, no I wouldn’t dream of it.” Elaine swears, “You just come by Graceland, stay the night, stretch your legs a bit, fill your belly, let me curl your hair.”

“And we can talk about boys.” Thumper agrees, like that’s her return currency for good southern hospitality…and it sorta is.

These nights when she stays, they’re something sweet and young and silly like Elaine hasn’t had in years. Never once herself in full since she married, losing all friends who knew her before Elvis, collecting folks who knew Elvis long before her, and a snazzy supply of darling children whose most stimulating conversations are about tricycles and losing a new tooth -Elaine is a little starved.

And Elvis -well, as Tink, she's his best friend, without doubt, and he is hers. But she’s also his wife, his woman and his home and his ballast and his doll and his lover and his mama and his ideal. So many roles. What she can’t talk to Elvis about is only relegated to one topic.

Elvis himself.

And such a man, a force more than a man at times, oh it needs an outlet and somehow the Mafia wives and even Betsy Blue Eyes Harrison with her discreet goodness and friendship can’t speak of what Elaine wants to speak about. A body can only go so long without bragging a little about what they’ve got, and when what you’ve got is a national heartthrob and the most famous man on earth -secrets about earth shaking ardor that rivals cataclysmic tempers, well, sometimes Elaine wants to speak of it. Or, rather, about the parts that make her love it, look forward to another day full of it. The little things that she can’t trust anyone else to know or love or see kindly.

Except for Thumper. Thumper -who has already admitted to loving him the same way, seeing him the same, living for him similarly. It’s the oddest consolation, and stranger still that his wandering eye gave it to her, but Elaine will take it.

“Yes, we could talk about boys.” Elaine agrees with Thumper, both knowing that when they say boys, they mean boys such as Naughty, Widdle Fella, Elvis Presley and The Memphis Flash.

Tomorrow comes and her sons are alive and hardly stripped out of their swimsuits to sleep before getting back in them and plunging to the depths of the swimming pool with metal tanks on their back and masks on their faces. She can’t bear to watch, looks like a perfect way to die at home, and so she stays inside and helps Ella groom her puppy for the pageant and Rosalee has an embroidered collar that needs help with fastening the buckle -she did the stitching herself- and although she hasn’t seen Daisy in hours, that wasn’t unusual.

In the afternoon she sends a car to the airport, Marty grins at her wildly and she gives him the old eyebrow before taking herself to her bedroom as the hour nears and going through a rather worn routine that still pleases her like when it was new.

The sound of the big door suctioning through the house can be heard upstairs, as can the chorus of children screaming “Aunt Tamale!” and Elaine knows it’s time to make an appearance.

Ann braces to a squat with her bag dropped beside her as a tidal wave of Presley children launch themselves at her over the foyer floor, tackling and clinging and squeezing vehemently with grinning, beautiful faces. Three are wiry, chlorinated and shirtless. It takes a moment for Ann to realize one is Daisy and that no, they’ve not made a third son since she saw them last. Jack’s golden hair has gotten darker and that’s heartbreaking but at least his dimples are deeper than ever and Jesse is just as sweet and courteously loving as always with Ella tagged behind with a wet doggie that Ann takes in her arms and let’s lick her face and Rosalee had a sketch to show her of what looked like a deformed couch but was most likely intended to be her beloved daddy’s profile and -

Oh Elaine.

Always one to make an entrance, to set the tone of a good game. She looks perfectly at home leaning against an upper bannister while observing the hubbub from above, with sheer navy cascading around her like a thundercloud and her hair tousled to perfection. Young Elvis’ portrait yearns behind her on the wall and Ann smiles at the rightness of it.

She waits till her children loosen the gambit just a little before wafting down the stairs in a tulle blur of long limbs and soft focused curves and she throws her arms around Ann and her sensible, tweed traveling suit.

“Thumper, I’ve missed you!” She’s no icy Madame in her own home, sweet Elaine, her porcelain face and macabre loungewear aside, she is warm and glowing in the rays of a waning day’s sun and Ann clings a little longer, arms around her neck and giving flesh beneath her hands, feeling oddly at home in this foyer.

“Missed you, too.”

The sleepovers always start with evenings like this. There’s playing with the kids and dinner, they may end up in the pool, they may end up watching home movies to show her what she’s missed since last visit. Perhaps there’s a new golf cart to try to flip on its top. But when bedtime comes, Thumper is a loving taskmaster, insisting everyone get to their respective rooms, starting the process thirty minutes early so that there can be as much dithering and “one more chapter” as can be and still get the kids conked out at a decent hour. Rosalee is allowed to stay and use the phone to talk to Elvis till 10:30 and in the meantime Thumper conducts tooth brushing competitions and Elaine sorts out breakfast plans with Mary.

And then it’s time for bedtime, and where Elaine might waiver about being so selfish as to deny her kids the little tiny bit of girlhood she’s carved for herself this evening, Ann has no qualms guarding that for her and summarily cleans out the big king bed of progeny.

Only little Jack is occasionally allowed to stay.

Weaned, or so Elaine swears but Anna has doubts, the kid is golden and soft and lanky like all little five year olds should be, and blessed with an unerring accuracy in beaming and scowling at the right times to get exactly what he wants. In short, he is Elvis come again in a tiny, button nosed, rosebud lipped cherub with sweaty curls begging to be pushed off his forehead by a loving hand and of course it’s half the delight to let the little fella stay and camp on the bed when they read their tabloids to each other, watching him laughing maniacally along with them at rumors about themselves that Jack doesn’t even understand.

Jack is also excellently skilled at wedging the foam pads between their toes when it’s pedicure time, allowing Elaine and Ann to bask back in matching boudoir chairs with their feet propped up on the matching stools Elvis got. Pink stain pouring over little round stools for when he wants to haul one up and chat to his wife while she applies her lashes. Jack insists on wedging the foam between their toes himself and sometimes tries his hand at painting with varying catastrophic results.

“Heyar, i’s wight heyer.” Jack’s little drawl still butchers Elaine’s diligent elocution lessons but both women fawn over him regardless when he passes them a roller they had planned on using later -not anymore- they drop the sectioned hair in process and start again with the one he gives them.

“He’s really precious, isn’t he?” Ann sighs once, staring down at him where he finally passed out between them, soft, chubby knees he got from his daddy bent askew and long fingered hands for a child tucked beneath a milk fat cheek.

“I don’t think I’d have made it without him.” Elaine admitted once and when Thumper gave her a searching look she went on, “Before there was you, there was just him. And when everyone else was ready to be happy again after Jo, he never minded when I’d take him to a room to nurse him and -“ she trail off, face lit warm by the harem lamp’s multi gemmed glow and the golden bedding around them, dark hair pinned up in rollers to show how young her face really is without paint and artifice, “-I even remember once being in Elvis’ trailer on set, right after and it was like every kid who cried around me-my body would respond and let down more and I-I didn’t have a baby for it. Except for baby Jack, and I remember sitting in that hot trailer on the lot while all the kids were out with Elvis touring the set and I was…crying.”

“Of course you were.” Ann snuggles closer, reaches over Jack’s little form to squeeze Elaine’s arm.

“I was sobbing my eyes out, actually.” Elaine admits with a shy turn of her head towards the padded headboard, “While he nursed. And then I felt his chubby little hand, all clumsy and sweaty, wiping them off without ever breaking his latch on the nipple. Wiping the tears off my cheeks.” She clarifies, “I didn’t know a baby could be so loving in the way I needed, and I’ve been close before, Jesse was my world I swear, and Ella is like watching myself again. But -his dimples pop when he gives that crooked grin and he won’t even let go of the latch, just a little…” she mimics his grin with her thumb in her mouth Ann laughs at the sight.

She laughs at the things Elaine finds funny and and she gets why Elaine loves what she loves. And night after sleepover night, Elaine finds herself admitting more and more and gets back an earful in return. It makes her giddy and makes her kick her feet when she picks up the ringing phone and hears her friend on the other line.

“I think I need to freshen up my hair.” Elaine will sigh into the receiver.

“I like how you’re growing it out, less structured, it’s younger!” Ann will agree before adding just as emphatically, “Just needs a little trim and some styling. I can come Thursday.”

One such Thursday in ‘64 Tink came out of the bathroom with tin foil in her hair and scared giddiness in her smile.

“I’ve got a surprise for ya,when you get back, Naughty.” Elaine told Elvis on the phone, forcing herself not to bite her nail in anticipation and ruin the new coat of polish.

The surprise had been an auburn haired wife.

Elvis noticed the effects of the sleepovers himself, beyond the wild sight of auburn hair, even as he looked at them askew and with a confused belligerence about fun being had without him, and many a demand regarding “what sorta fun are ya having? You’re my wife, dammit!”

His logic that ‘it don’t count if its two girls’ when excusing a night of the three of them rolling in Ann's rough cotton sheets as soon as Viva Las Vegas wrapped, didn’t hold up now. Now it very much did count that they were two little girls. Two unsupervised little girls and he was relieved when Jack stayed with them, but less so when he heard from Jack that they painted their piggies and arm wrestled in their nighties.

Elaine legitimately enjoyed grappling on the fluffy white carpet of the music room floor after ice cream had been served and wiped from childrens’ chins. It was something she tried with Elvis and never managed to win except by clinging to his back like a limpet, and even then he’d win by crushing her into the pile with his weight.

But with Ann she could tussle and strain and keep up some of that old verve that had once had her nailing softball practice in high school and currently crushing Vernon at tennis. No one in the Memphis mafia was allowed to tackle her or ought else when games were played on the lawn and no amount of flattery convinced Elaine of competency she had not exercised in years. Thumper provided just such a foil and Elaine found herself winning and losing with a clean conscience and sore body time after time, children applauding at either result.

She felt a little wild, like she had when Elvis brought the three of them together that first night, pacifying her qualms about the rightness of it as only he and his unfailing logic could do. But these days she was less and less burdened by rules or even expectation, it was her own house, her own life and if Elvis Presley had cracked open the door on hotel sheets, then Elaine saw little blame to be garnered from stepping over the threshold and creating a little world for herself that made her feel more than used up and unsellable. A “fact” Colonel Parker and the family Enterprise winced over daily. She could shut herself up in Graceland or Palm Springs and see to it that her children got an education, her husband's favored meals were served when he deigned to come home and her sanity was somewhat in place for it all by any means possible.

Elvis, for his own part, knew damn well he’d invited in whatever wild spirit of independent merrymaking Elaine now partook of. He also trusted her implicitly to keep it under wraps within the halls of their house, to indulge respectably and set a good example for his children.

It was undeniable, since her friendship with Ann began, she was looking younger, happier and more content than he’d seen her since before the tragedy, before Jo.

And Elvis cared mostly about that.

And in the way of those who do not know how to comfort others regarding a tragedy that they themselves have not recovered from, he found himself making concessions and negotiations, a bit of “so long as I can keep this, you can have that” sort of bargaining.

The ‘this’ and ‘that’ were never quite verbalized, but it was understood in that miserable harmony of married couples that he’d keep his women and his crowd of unedifying friends and employees so long as she might have household stability and a certain license to be a nutcase. Perhaps it would buy him and Larry time to figure out whatever fucked up Retrograde or inner chakra was keeping him from being able to bodily make love to his wife in the traditional way.

Larry swore he was only scared to make another child and lose it, hence why his wife remained hypothetically attractive but he could not complete his attraction carnally.

Elvis thought Larry should stick his head in the wood chipper for such a simple answer, there’s no way in hell that’s all there is to it and yet it likely was and Elvis couldn’t quite manage to accept that. Accept that he was still grieving. It wasn’t an option really. Not with everything else going on, all the different ways he was needed and wanted elsewhere, and not with the way Elaine swore she was fine until he could figure it out, so long as he loved her and was there for their kids.

Which he is. And when he’s not, Ann’s there. And Dodger. Or Marlon -on Daisy’s insistence. Or the whole damn nation.

So, much as the current order of things rankled Elvis, perhaps out of some suppressed awareness of his own role in it, ultimately having his Happy Tink back was his greatest wish.

And if it made Thumper happy as well? -goodness, it was a better end than most dalliances could boast.

But it was hard being a little sidelined, and when Charlie pointed out that Elaine must feel similarly about his flings and his fellas, Elvis wasn’t sure what the hell he was on about as Elaine was very much incorporated in both, as much as she liked to be. She just liked to be less and less and that was on her. Charlie still suggested he tell her how he felt about it.

But then Tink beat him to it.

He was laying there in bed, at Graceland, at some pitch black early morning hour one time, with five sleeping children scattered in their bed, when she told him she didn’t mean to make him feel lonely. It was all Elvis needed to hear. That she knew she was doing that, and if she knew it, then he knew that before long she’d find a remedy. He just needed to be a little more patient.

Which wasn’t his forte but Tink was quick and ingenious and once she’d come up with how to help, he just about wished she never had. The cure was as cruel as it was mouthwatering.

Elvis was in his trailer one day, on a movie set as Elvis was most days this year, and had spared some time from shooting due to another department needing to sort something out. The something didn’t matter, what did matter was that he got to sit in his trailer with his friends earlier than usual for an evening, put on his helmet and watch the game. And then his team won. Which, in the raucous, bottle clinking, cigar lighting jubilation of celebrating such a win, had him almost missing the ringing of the telephone he had wired in.

Only the Colonel and Graceland and little blonde Shirley from last movie set had his number and so Elvis scrambled over his red sofa cushions, threw off his helmet and leaned over to pick the phone up, hollering, “H’allo?” into the receiver while chopping at his throat with his hand in a demand for silence from his boys.

“Naughty?”

“Why, if it ain’t my pwecious baby wife.” he cooed with a sappy grin on his face, happily flipping on his back in the cushions, all being right with the world with his girl’s voice in his ear and his team in the playoffs.

“How’re you doin’ baby?” she asked him sweetly, and he could hear her settling into the sheets, the rustle couldn’t be from the kitchen.

He kicked his feet up above his head and propped them against the wall, “Pretty damn good, you watch the game?”

“Jesse and Thumper gave me a play by play.” she informed him.

“What were you cookin’?”

“Dumplings. Couldn’t step away.”

“Aww.” he knew it had to be something precious and easily burned to keep her from watching. “And now?”

“Now I’m petting Whiskers.” she informed him.

Their cat. “I trust Annie ain’t pettin’ any kitties of mine, is she?” he mumbled in a discreet little growl, cupping the phone to his mouth.

Joe glanced over anyway. Elvis found the toe of his boot tapping a jittery rhythm against the trailer wall and as annoying as he found it himself, he couldn’t stop. He felt nervous, oddly, like when he used to call Elaine from Germany, way back when before she’d joined him. Back when he wasn’t sure he knew her fully. She kept him on his toes and he liked that, it made his blood rush and satiated his natural eagerness for newness -but oh how he wondered sometimes how she always dredged up this newness. If he knew her, really knew her would -would she keep being so surprising?

Fuck. Maybe Larry was right, maybe he needed to pop a pill like an old fart and get it on with her, get it outta his system.

Where were they? Oh, cats. And Ann.

“Elvis, c’mon, really.” Elaine chided with a giggle, “Ann is setting up the pedicures.”

“Oh.” Elvis sucked in a breath at the way such a reassurance sent the blood from his panicked brain to his jealous heart and then melting down like molten desire right between his legs. He flexed his belly and gnawed on his thumbnail. “Oh yeah?” he tried again and sounded so damn wrecked that every friend in the place looked at him as if he’d just put on a porno. “Y’all paintin’ your piggies? Mmm? Pink, yeah? Fuck’meee.”

“Mhmm, well, she hasn’t gotten to painting yet.” Elaine expounded with a sigh, “She’s oiling them up, I’ve had to endure a fifteen minute sermon on dry cuticles, Elvis, and now she’s squeezing and rubbing my poor piggies till they’re tingly-“

“Laney!“ he hollered as if she dropped a 2x4 on his own toes and the guys crowded in, a mixture of mockery and interest on their faces. Elvis spread a hand out on his chest to regulate his breathing and cursed at the realization that his wife wasn’t the slightest bit clueless as to what she was doing. “Oh Laney, what -what’s she usin’ to oil ya?” he begged to know, his nose breathing deeply as if he could guess it a thousand miles away.

“Baby oil, Elvis,” Elaine sounds so earnest in his ear, “I told her you don’t let me use nothin’ else on them.”

“Good girl.” he growled after realizing she couldn’t see his decisive nod of approval at her obedience.

“Oooh” he hears her breathe in his ear and startles up from the couch in a little flail that has no destination save that he heard his wife moan and it requires some expenditure of energy from him or he’ll go nuts laying here imagining her in her babydoll nighty, her pretty little bare toes getting oiled up by Annie.

“Tink, what she doin’ to yous, Tink?” he demands urgently, and the guys crowd closer, Elvis tugs at his pant leg and knows it’s futile, his rock hard dick is trapped in Edith’s well tailored trousers and all he can do is bring his feet off the wall and spread as much as he can.

“S-she’s rubbing my arch.” Elaine tells him, “I was wearing those pretty little white heels all days, the white ones you got me.” she reminds him and he smiles at the visual of her clicking through their home.

“She makin’ ya feel good?” he prompts his eyes glossy and far away from his gaudy trailer and the smell of cigar smoke. “Rubbin’ the sore right out?”

“Yeah, yeah feels good.” She slurs.

He can just picture her all puddled and lax and slippery- “Hers all gooey?” he hopes, running a hand over his belly that keeps flexing and quivering like little Elvis is deep in cunt.

Elaine on the other end of the line smirks at the shift in his tone, gone entirely from jealousy to fanciful imaginings that are far, far beyond anything she’s indulging in but somehow it’s terribly exciting to know what he’s thinking, to lure him in and have only his own, nasty, boyish mind to blame for the misfire. She winks down at Thumper who truly is doing a remarkable job on those sore arches and gives another little moan. “Yeah, yeah I could fall outta bed I’m so gooey.”

She hears the shuddering breath he takes and can imagine him, crisp slacks and ruffled pompadour, laying on his back against velvet red cushions, legs splayed in a pantomime of dying and his lackeys gathered around like a sleazy last supper.

“I think we’ve really got his motor thrumming, Thumper.” she feels safe enough to giggle and hears Elvis give only a heart rending:

“Goddamn, whyyyy!” over the phone in reply.

“Need a defibrillator, boss?” she can hear Marty ask him and hears only petulant moaning about needing a wife in reply.

It did the trick, or at least, part of the trick. The trick of making the Presley’s feel connected to each other again and Larry agreed that it was good, a good step towards normality even if it was a little polyamorous and crowded for a typical marriage. Such phone calls made Elvis feel included and Elaine nearly re-besotted with a man who, when on the other end of a phone line and thousands of miles away, sounded desperate and devoted, something her wifely self hadn't felt from him in a little while.

Elvis brought home amongst his many gifts a couple of new cameras, and having taught Jesse how to use the still one, paid his son five dollars for each documented arm wrestle and diving contest. How he paid his wife for each documented lingerie try-on and manicure session was never revealed but her shoe box of pastel gauzy Polaroids suggested the compensation was ample incentive. How Tink paid Thumper was anyone's guess and no one’s knowledge. Maybe it was that Cartier diamond set she wore to a premiere the following week.

It was a natural graduation of events that Elvis should, being at home during one of Thumper’s convenient memphian layovers, be a camera wielding witness to one of these night time pamperings. They politely ignored him and his bright lights that beamed on their little haven in front of the dresser, pink satin chairs aglow and their faces almost angelically washed out on the film. That night, Elaine’s hair was restored to a deep chocolate color, Ann’s outfit for her next premiere was chosen and the silk pajama’s Elvis donned for the evening had to be discarded.

The camera wielding didn’t stop there, when Thumper was brought down to Circle G Ranch, an entire production was made, the only picture film Elvis Presley ever fully produced and directed and costumed in the 1960’s -and it was full of subtext, straw, piglets, bare skin and harmed vegetables. But it occurred over an slippery, sweaty, pungent afternoon and was not a sleepover and so has no place being detailed in this chapter.

What does deserve a place here is the great Tink and Thumper adventure with Benetint that happened about a year into this charming, girlish, sleepover habit.

They’d bought matching nighties you see, sheer with a gingham print. Yet, when going to photograph their charming selves in them, they found the rosiness lacking -or at least, Thumper thought it could be improved. The printed fabric was to blame for the faded-nipple effect but was too adorably bucolic to be abandoned entirely. So, after a foray into the smokey backstages of some Vegas showrooms, Ann arrived one day in Palm Springs with her sundry gifts for the children, and tucked into her purse, was an uninspiring little bottle of something that could easily have been mistaken for nail polish.

Sitting cross legged on the vanity, Elaine soon learned it was anything but.

It was too quiet in the bathroom, just their huffed breaths and the squeak of the lid unscrewing. Even before the icy chill flicked over her skin she felt her arms break out in gooseflesh and she sucked in a breath, bracing for the tickle. Elvis had done this, to her belly, that first time she’d grown his children and her belly rent apart with a lightning bolt down its middle.

It had felt loving then, kindhearted and boyish.

Ann crouching to bosom level, flicking the little brush with its smelly mixture across her pert nipples, breath ghosting against the red blush of Elaine’s breast, silk pooling useless off her shoulders -this was different, oddly so. Somehow more intimate than when a man, or what Elaine knew of men, did it. Here was no pleasurable usage to brace for, only girlish admiration and a charming lack of regard for ought else but this, this single, charged, shivering moment.

Elaine could see Ann’s dark roots from up above. She wanted to pull that thin bottom lip of hers and snap it back against her teeth. Feeling useless sitting getting adorned so soberly, Elaine swiped the hair falling into her friend’s eyes, up and off her brow and into the buoyant coif that chasing the children had already half dismantled.

It made Ann drop her brush. “I wasn’t expecting-“ she fumbled.

She went back to it, such warmth so close and Elaine watched with a confused heart as Ann swirled the icy slick once more over the outer ring of a babe abused areola, taking her bleeding little rosebuds and making them into dark cherries.

“How do they look?” Elaine asked Thumper as Ann stood at a little distance in the large bathroom, eyeing up her art with her absurd little brush raised, a consummate artist and a distracted friend.

“You look like I imagined.” Ann replied as if without thinking before her face colored the shade of the pink rug and she must roll her eyes in an effort to sabotage the escaped sentiment.

“Imagined when?” Elaine asked, leaning forward on the counter, not bothering to cover up as it would only smear, perhaps some part of her knew without consulting the mirror the image that she made.

A dark haired vixen with the body of an ivory cello, leaning forward with those creamy mounds topped like Shirley Temples with their little ornaments.

-knowing yet curious, hungry yet soft.

Ann swallowed hard and thought about the end of all this that Elaine had once predicted in the beginning, an end that was all wedding veils and bouquets and everlasting vows with some fella Ann was supposed to find and love since Elvis wasn’t available. Elaine swore it would come and Ann had hoped she’d been right. The idea sickens her lately, thinking of somehow there being some other best friend, someone else to flick bath water at and ogle in their silk pajamas, someone else to have her heart lurch over when the children crawl atop them and the motorbikes thrum beneath them. The more successful she got the more she wanted this.

Just this.

“When he used to talk about you.” she admits her imaginings had been detailed and flattering for the wife of the man she once lay beside. Not even in dreams of wildest jealousy and unfair slight could Elaine be anything but something Ann craved to know and be known by. “I-I dreamed of being stabbed by you.”

Ann had woken up flaming with desire from those nightmares. Pretty Elaine Presley coming alive from the front of a newspapers and screaming “traitor!” hacking at Ann’s broken little heart with a pie server. Only for Elaine to end up being kind, lonely and a bit of a tease.

“Why’re you crying?” Elaine asked softly, finally slipping off her marble perch and taking Ann’s chin in her hand firmly.

“I’m going to miss this.” she muttered miserably in realization of the overseas tours next year and the boys she entertained but didn’t like enough to trust with a single secret and the way Marlon was around here too often lately. “And you know too much of me.” she hit Elaine’s arm playfully.

The grip on her chin jerked in retaliation. “I’ve been worried. You’re getting famous.” Elaine admitted, and the way she referenced fame was if it was a cancer.

“But I can come here, right?”

“Always.”

“Even if I’m married?”

Elaine looked a little surprised and questioning and when Ann shook her head in the negative to being currently engaged she lightened again, “Especially if you’re married. Married women go mad without some woman to talk to about being married.”

“You’re some woman.” Ann purred because Elaine Presley was stood too near with her pale soft breasts brushing Ann’s arm.

“You could be too, if you’d let me paint you.” Elaine dug the bottle out of Ann’s chilled fingers and went back to the sink, her reflection showing the heightened color crawling down her neck. “Get over here Thumper.” she snapped her fingers and Ann slinked up on the counter like a condescending house cat. “Am I to paint over chiffon?” Elaine stared at the still tied nightdress unimpressed until Ann was forced to fling it open - to her credit, not without adding much pizzaz to the whole thing with a high kick that only barely missed Elaine's face and a haughty toss of her head.

Her act petered out with a shy chuckle that faded into fully nothing.

“You’re very pretty.” Elaine whispered as she stood frozen in front of her in a ready stance, bottle clutched and tiny brush brandished, looking like a juvenile boy trying to recall his father’s tips on how to flatter. “But, then - you know that, I suppose.”

“I’m cold.” Ann whispered, her eyes darting to the side.

“Oh, yes,” Elaine was suddenly in motion, stepping nearer with clear eyes, “this makes it worse. Trust me. I’ll be fast, I swear.”

“It’s fine.” Ann breathed and then promptly forgot how.

As if in slow motion she watched Elaine crouching to better see her work, and her pretty hand burdened with all of Elvis’ shiny spherical gifts descended until it made contact on her bare nipple.

“Oh Elaine.” Ann enunciated through a gasp, her hands that had been listlessly sitting on the countertop curled over the edge of the marble, gripping tight.

“Cold isn’t it?” Elaine murmured again, her hand coming to rest beside her work in direct opposition to the cold paint. Firm, steadying, warm flesh on her sternum made Ann tremble, she watched Elaine‘s eyes flick up to meet hers, an odd sort of edge and command in them she’d never seen before.

Or. Rather, she had, but only ever with Elvis, only ever directing that look to him.

“He did this to me once.” Elaine told her, voice gone deep and then another stroke of the brush. “Not my nipples -it was my belly.”

“Captain Marvel.” Ann huffed a laugh, recalling the way he’d made her trace the bolt on his wife their first night, eager as a boy who’d discovered magic.

“Captain Marvel is telling you to hold still, missy.” Elaine chided her wiggling friend and Ann felt a flush all over.

“I’m just breathing.”

“Hard.” Elaine snarked, staring down at Ann’s heaving chest with a sardonic brow.

The intensity of that gaze was too much.

“It’s too much.” Ann said it in defense and Elaine’s eyes fluttered up to meet hers, her whole body straightening.

“For you too?” Elaine begged tremulously and Ann felt a rush of connection at her vulnerability.

“For me too.” she nodded.

“Gosh.” Elaine exclaimed, startled but making no move to flee, she just stayed there, hemming Ann in on the countertop and studying her face like it was the dearest thing.

“This isn’t making it better.” Ann whined as she felt that beautiful face near hers -the thunk of Elaine’s forehead against her own soon followed.

She felt her hands hold her waist gently like a dozen lovers had before and none felt as tender as this.

“You know the thing about fame is,” spearmint wafted over Ann’s face and she closed her eyes to listen to Elaine’s soft, pondering drawl, “it's held up all those years as the thing that’ll make everything all right. When the only thing that makes things even slightly bearable is a friend who knows what you're talking about. If you ever get tired, Annie, of being known for all the wrong reasons, you just come on back. We’ll always find something of us here, I know it.”

Elaine’s thumbs played across freckled skin like dainty wipers on Ann’s cheeks, swiping off one tear after another into her dyed hairline and one mere jut of Ann’s set chin brought the lower half of their faces together.

plush, warm, minty, sticky, glossy, brushing, lilting

-turn aside.

“Do you wanna -the camera, Tink?”

“No.” Mrs. Presley answered honestly as she stepped back, a little tremble in her voice, “Not tonight. I think -perhaps I, perhaps we, should call Elvis.” Elaine stared off into the adjoining bedroom with swimming eyes, their little project once undertaken for his gaze had suddenly become too intimate to be shared, even with him, even as dried ink on a glossy Polaroid weeks from now, “And maybe bring in Jack, he looked restless.”

“Oh yes.” Ann cheered and it was weak, snotty, hoarse little lie. But it was for Elaine. Anything for Elaine. “Let’s.” she agreed.

—Yes. Bring in Jack, why don’t you? And Elvis and Marlon and your charities and your causes and when it gets too crowded with just us two, bring in the whole nation!—

Ann willed the puddling tears away from the rim of her eyes, it wasn’t fair how a woman so immune to jealousy as Elaine Presley could spark so much in others.

“I bet Jack will be up to my shoulder by the time I get back from tour.” Ann joked as they crept down the hall to their boy’s bedroom, “And Jesse will break my heart with your face on a teenager's runty little body.”

It was a promise. To be back.

And come back in good spirits and with good intent. To take as much as was offered, be happy with it. Just as she knew if she herself showed up tomorrow with a husband, Elaine would be as ecstatic as if it were her own dream come true.

Some friends really do just love you enough that way. And that had to be enough.

Tags, if you’d like to be added just drop a comment to that effect below. I don’t bite and I do adore feedback, I run off of even the slightest scream from you. I appreciate you all and hope you enjoyed this. Xoxo marina

@powerofelvis

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

@myradiaz

@ash-omalley

@steph-speaks

@burningloverdoll

@angelface-555

@lookingforrainbows

@missmaywemeetagain

@coolgirl462

@kingdomforapony

@18lkpeters

@richardslady121

@from-memphis-with-love

@lillypink

@artlover8992

@pennyroyalcreep

@notstefaniepresley

@ellie-24

@renaissingle

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

@marriedtopresley

@ashtag2887

@dkayfixates

@vampireindistress

@ashtag6887

@i-r-i-n-a-a

@obsessedvibee

@peskybedtime

@goth-cowgirl-03

@stephthestallion

@fav-fanficssss

@loving-elvis

[itjazzbicch]

Biker Prince Charming

Pairing:  Shinichiro Sano x GangLeader!Fem Reader 

First time writing for Shinichiro, so I hope I did well! 

Summary: After high school, the reader creates her own gang to create a statement and makes a big name for the gang, and when her crew crosses paths with Shiniciro's gang, she reveals to Shinichiro that she is the leader, making him wonder and need to know how she changed and wants to fix it...

Warnings:  Swearing, mentions of past bullying, depression implied on the reader

Word Count: 1.2k 

"You just wait, you suckers! Our boss will be here any second!"

The only thing that my first division captain told me was that someone crossed into our territory, her vice-captain gave them a beating, and one of them escaped to get back up.

It wasn't like we were newbies around town, so only an idiot would come over to our side in the city.

"Listen, I'm not the kind of guy to fight girls," That voice. Shinichiro. "I just want to talk to your boss and work this out. Alright? Who is your boss, anyhow?"

Excessive bullying led me to create a gang full of girls to show these douchebag guys that we girls were strong too.

"Why, that would be me," Smiling at Shinichiro at the top of some steps in the alley, he was astonished.

We were childhood friends, and I understood why he was so shocked. Shinichiro knew how timid I once was, standing up to people who bullied me, always trying to make me smile. There was no denying that we had a strong friendship.

"Shinichiro, I had no idea this was their territory!" That guy that my girls took down looked like gangs were new to him.

"Bet you know now, huh?" One of my girls laughed at him, kicking some dirt at him, but stood straight at the sound of my command:

"Cut it out. Now."

Everyone in the alley stayed silent, eyes on me while I stood next to the street sign by the stairs with our emblem spray painted on it.

"See that, rookie?" Talking to the beaten-up guy on the ground, he watched me, learning and understanding, "That's our emblem. You see this somewhere? Get the hell out. Almost every gang around here will beat the crap out of you just for crossing territories."

He only nodded, scurrying away from my gang, hiding behind Shinichiro, who was still staring at me in disbelief.

"I'm fine with letting this go, Shinichiro, but it won't happen again," So much for Shinichiro wanting to talk to me, walking up the steps, not bothering to look, I commanded to my gang, "And girls, we'll discuss this tomorrow. I don't want to hear about any other bullshit tonight."

"Yes, Boss!' They all acknowledged and then parted ways.

I took my time up the stairs, pausing when I heard footsteps behind me.

"We still need to talk, Y/N."

Now, Shinichiro wanted to talk since everyone was gone. Of course.

"Then talk," I spat, not even bothering to look at him.

"What happened to you?" He couldn't get over the fact that what he was seeing from me was reality, "You're the Leader of that crazy chick gang? Really?"

"No shit. You just saw," Turning my head and beaming an eye at him, I lost my patience a long time ago, continuing to be straightforward, "So, if you want to talk, talk."

It was evident that he needed some time to process what just happened, thinking quickly and then offering:

"Meet me at our spot, and we can talk in a bit? I need a second. I can't believe this shit."

That made me laugh, finishing my walk up the stairs:

"You're not the first to say that to me. We're not kids anymore, Shinichiro. A lot has changed, but it's whatever. I'll see you later."

With my motorcycle at the top of the stairs, I kept laughing at him. He looked dumb standing there so puzzled, making my bike roar before I took off.

Shinichiro and I used to hang out when we could under a bridge on the far side of the city. I liked to go at night because you could see the shoreline from there and the sunsets were always beautiful.

Sure enough, when sunset rolled around, I drove over and found Shinichiro putting out his kickstand:

"Perfect timing, huh?"

"I guess so," I sighed, parking and slouching back on my bike, "So, you finally gonna speak your mind now that it's just us."

"Yeah," He murmured, still thinking and admitting, "I think it's pretty cool that there's a gang full of girls out here kicking ass. Talk about girl power."

"Your buddy learned that pretty well today," I laughed softly, explaining, "Some of my girls are crazy."

"I saw," Feeling his eyes on me, I knew he would start asking questions and spark a long talk, "But you know none of my guys would hit a girl. Why do you guys go and-"

"Don't even," I snapped, sitting up and glaring at him, "We don't just go and start fights with everyone we see. As Leader, I will admit my girls thought it'd be fun to pick on some dummy today. But you saw how they instantly shut up and stayed still when I told them to. Didn't you?"

Nodding to answer my question, I continued to show how I ran things in my gang:

"They did it because they knew they messed up, and I don't mess-ups. I'm ripping them a new one tomorrow at our meeting. You need to realize I'm not to be pushed. So, if you're trying to push my buttons, leave."

"No, Y/N," Turning to me, there was hurt in his voice, leaning to me and reminiscing, "What happened to the sweet girl that I knew?"

"She died," I said with no emotion, staring back into his eyes, "She's gone."

"Naw," Shaking his head, determination in his voice, "I can bring her back to life."

I wasn't ready to tell him why I felt I died inside and drastically changed, throwing another smart remark, "Yeah, right. Good luck with that."

"Think I won't try?" He always had good intentions and was trying to help, being bold by guiding me off my bike, keeping an arm around me, "I'm cool with being your knight in a leather jacket who rides a motorcycle."

I couldn't stand the charm he had, how cute his smile was, it almost made me fall, but I caught myself, straightening my posture, whispering dominantly:

"I don't need a knight when I don't need to be saved. You're making me think you're jealous because we both know no one would stop talking about you if you picked me up."

"I'd give up my whole gang just to save you and have you," Shinichiro's words took me aback because he wasn't a liar, needing my all to hide my emotions as his came out, "I can see it in your eyes. I can see the hurt. You know you have me, don't you?"

"I told you," Having to turn away, I got back on my bike, starting the engine, "People change. You think I need saved? I only realized who I really am."

"Come on, Y/N," My words hurt him, going to say more till I reached in my pocket, wrote on a small piece of paper on top of my thigh, then handed it to him.

"Look, I'm not completely heartless," I sighed, looking away while handing him my number, "There's my new number. Maybe we can hang out sometime, but no more, biker prince charming, shit."

That managed to put a smile on his face as he accepted it, getting on his bike too, trying to spend some more time together:

"A least go for a ride with me before you go? We can even race if you think you can."

He was a bit confused as to why I was laughing like a psycho, not knowing the power my bike had, having to tease him again as I blasted off, screaming at him:

"You don't stand a chance against the boss, pretty boy!' 

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome. 

[reallyromealone]

I am so sorry for requesting again before you had the chance to write my last request but I had the best idea. So bonten x son reader (platonic ofc) Trying to get a job and he ends up working at draken and inui's bike shop. I'm sorry if your busy. Please drink lots of water and I hope you are in good health ♡

Omg yes

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

"Can I get a job?"

The table went quiet as the Bonten men looked at (name), the teenager glancing at his dad's awkwardly "why?" Mochi asked bluntly "is the allowance not enough?" (Name) shook his head "it's not that, it's just I was told that having a job or an internship would be good for university applications along with volunteering" (name) said pulling out a folder he kept on the floor beside him "please look at these, I did the research on how it could help advance my chances in getting into good universities!" Bonten wasn't shocked that (name) came prepared, they always told him to be overprepared than under after all.

"As you can see, it would be incredibly beneficial for me to possibly have a part time job"

"What about your extra curricular activities and would this affect your grades?" (Name) tried not to perk up at the questions Ran asked seriously, all of the Bonten members in dad mode as they looked over the papers "I already have a plan for that! I would only be working weekends and my club doesn't run on weekends and I would do any homework on breaks and after or before work"

"You really have this planned out..." Mikey mumbled before looking at his son "thoughts?" Mikey asked the others and the rest glanced at one another before each giving a thumbs up, voting yes albeit a bit begrudgingly as they worried about their son.

They found voting systems worked best when it came to (name).

"Then...you can have a job, but the second your grades slip you quit"

"Thank you! I start this Saturday for training!" (Name) said getting up and giving his dad's a hug before running off to his room to no doubt text his friends the news.

(Name) kept to his word, keeping his grades up and come the weekend he started his first day.

"Thank you for hiring me Mr.Draken sir!" (Name) said enthusiastically, excited to start his first job as book keeper for D&D motors "no problem kid, we could use the help... Sadly my associate and I aren't the best with that sort of thing"

"Well I'm glad to be apart of the team!"

Draken enjoyed the teens enthusiasm, the young man reminding him of... Draken didn't want to dwell on that.

He noticed mi--(name) was really good at what he did, fixing their problems "my dad is really good at money management and taught me how to save, he said "you never want to be in a situation where you desperately need money but don't have enough"" (name) said happily as he and Draken ate their food, the teen doing his homework happily.

"That's solid advice"

When (name)s shift ended a black Rolls-Royce parked infront of the shop, none of the Bonten men coming to collect the teen after learning who he's working for as they didn't want (name) to try and be him and... Try and fix the unfixable.

So they had a driver collect him.

"I will see you tomorrow Mr.Draken!"

"Get home safe kid"

"I will sir!"

When (name) got home he was practically vibrating with joy as he made a beeline to the livingroom where his dad's were lounging and doing work "today was great!" (Name) practically yelled, going on a verbal rampage about his day and his dad's watching fondly, glad he enjoyed himself.

"That's good, you do your homework?"

"It's right here!" (Name) confidently handed Mikey his work and the blond hummed as he looked it over "good"

"Now, go shower you smell like motor oil"

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Sometimes Your Soul Family Is The Only Family You Need - Part 3

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Summary: 18 months ago you were a mess but with the help of your close friends you start to rebuild your life. Your soul friendships maybe chaotic but they're your family, just as you're theirs. With one of them about to have a baby, you and your misfit friends are here to visit. But will you stay? And what will the small town think of you having two soulmates and why do you keep finding yourself in the same place as a bunch of hot bikers.

"Sometimes families are assholes, sometimes your soul connections mean far more than family ever can. Sometimes your soul family is the only family you need." - Nurse Maggie

Chapter Warning: None

Chapter Summary: Ryan is suspicious and you are panicked.

Your eyes were fixed on the blue grey ones staring back at you, your heart continuing to flutter and race in your chest. The eyes moved as the owner of said eyes rose from the back of his motorbike. Then the itching started, like nettle stings around the letters that marked your arm. The eyes looking at you seemed to go wide as you started scratch at your marks. He moved to cross over the road, only for his attention to be broken by the opening of the door at the store he had been sitting in front of. He glanced back between the door and you, a slightly panicked expression on his face.

“So they have your mid-level ones but not the strong ones, they’ll be in tomorrow, so we’ll need to get them before they close tomorrow, once we’ve closed the shop.” Steve.

“What?”

“Your painkillers” concern flashed across his face “Buck, you OK?”

He turned to face you again only to see you’d gone. The soft closing of the pie shop door the only giveaway you’d even been there.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“You ok bud?”

“Yeah, I thought, I thought I saw someone.”

“Who?”

Bucky didn’t answer and pulled on his helmet. Steve shook his head and did the same as they headed off to Clint’s bar for the night.

“What ARE you doing?” Ryan asked, confused by the fact that you were trying to discreetly tiptoe into the pie shop.

“Nothing! Just stretching my legs, you told me to take a break.” There was a snark in your tone that Ryan couldn’t place.

“You’re being weird.”

“Is this your other friend?” Your attention was drawn to the grey haired woman behind the counter, who gave you a warm smile.

“Yes, this is Y/N, my taxi, best friend and soul friend.”

“Hello.” You replied softly.

Ryan frowned at you. You’d usually be full of hellos and nice to meet you but your walls were fully up.

“You must be exhausted from the drive.” She commented.

“I’m OK.” you replied feeling Ryan’s eyes on you, you looked for an escape, you couldn’t go back outside but relief flooded you as you saw the sign for the bathroom, “please may I use your restroom.”

“Of course sweetie, you go ahead.”

You dashed in pulling off the band that covered your wrist. Plenty of people covered their soulmate marks but it was more common with multiples. A way to avoid unwanted, and usually sex related, questions.

Looking down at the letters on your wrist, you saw the area around the deep letters was inflamed and you ran cold water over it in the hope it would calm down. You weren’t sure if it was the water or that you heard the rumble of the bikes pulling away that caused it to stop. Your heart slowed down and you weren’t sure if were relived or disappointed.

You didn’t have time to dwell when Ryan knocked and entered the bathroom.

“Hey”

“Hey yourself.”

“Are you sure you’re OK?”

“Yep, all good.”

“Is this anything to do with the staring hot biker that was outside?"

You faked a snort of laughter.

“No of course not.”

“Sooooo?”

“Sooooo, it’s time for the hospital.”

[birgittesilverbae]

shannon & ava (platonic) - reach

"Hook your toe under the bar just to your left. You should be able to reach the next rail from there."

There's a groan over Shannon's earpiece, and then silence stretches around her. She tips back in her chair, glancing around surreptitiously before kicking her feet up on the desk. She's just reaching for another handful of trail mix when Ava's voice crackles in her ear. "Masters, I'm about half a foot shorter than you. Your functional reach is not universal. I can't make it." There's a dull thud, and Shannon checks the camera feed to see Ava's helmet pressed up against the exterior of the submerged model of the shuttle. 

"How are we doing, Silva?"

"Leg cramp, just need a moment." Ava takes measured breaths, her helmet knocking gently against the side of the shuttle with each exhalation. Finally she inhales deeply, gathering herself. "Okay. I'm good." Her voice cuts out, and Shannon presses two fingers to her earpiece. 

"You still there?"

"Yep. Just thought of something. I'll tell you later. What was that toehold you wanted from me, again?"

"Hook the bar to your left with your toe to ensure you stay on structure, and then reach your right hand up to move your first tether over to the next rail. It should be well within your reach capacity."

"Attempt two, here we go." Shannon waits with bated breath. A moment later, Ava crows in celebration. Shannon exhales in relief, adjusts her glasses where they've slipped down her nose.

"Well done. Now take your second tether–"

//

Ava's hair is still damp from the shower when she rejoins Shannon on the deck of the neutral buoyancy pool. They head out to the parking lot, tilting their heads back in lockstep to look up at the stars as they exit the building. 

"Can I catch a ride?" Ava asks when they come to a halt by Shannon's jeep. "I biked in today, but I don't know that I'll be able to stay awake long enough to make it home."

"Of course, hop in." Shannon waits patiently as Ava tosses her bag in the back and boosts herself up into the passenger seat. 

Ava buckles her belt then looks expectantly over at her. "You good?"

Absently thumbing at her keys, Shannon half-turns in her seat. "What happened in there just now? You've never had trouble with that tether transfer before."

Ava grimaces. "My knee buckled," she admits softly. "It's been doing it a lot lately. That's why I asked you to run me through after-hours."

"Ava."

"I know, I know, transparency is key, but I was kinda just hoping it would fix itself." 

Shannon drops her forehead against the top of the steering wheel. "That's not–" she begins.

"I know that's not how it works. I know. I'm just…" In her periphery, she can just make out Ava, backlit by moonlight, dragging a hand down her face. "I'm scared. What if it knocks me off the mission?"

"It's not going to knock you off the mission. Not unless you're stupid enough to, say, I don't know, not get it checked out," Shannon replies sharply. "You have a medical team for a reason. Take advantage of that." 

"You got benched over medical issues."

"I got benched because my vision went from 20/20 to 20/100 during my year on station," Shannon corrects. "It's hardly the same thing. Just promise me you'll bring it up to the med team tomorrow, okay?"

"You got it, Chief."

[mooncakesofpan]

eddie x reader x gareth !!! i beg !!! i need them

Crashed Dnd Nights

Eddie Munson x Gn!Reader x Gareth Emerson

Summary: A late night of dnd before a day of movies

A/n: this might be bad I'm apologizing right now I'm still getting used to writing both Gareth and Eddie, this is also a semi-fix if fic and happens a year after Vecna where Gareth is senior and 18 the reader is a year older than him at 19 and Eddie is 22.

Warnings: strong language, fluff, Mentions of Vecna, they/ them pronouns 

Word Count: 1K

Stranger things Masterlist | Main Masterlist 

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK

You were finally off work for the Friday night leaving your job to go to the 7/11 you browse the aisles for m&m’s for Eddie and gummy worms for Gareth. While in the almost empty convenient store you decide that you might as well get a Slurpee grabbing a cup and filling it up mixing the flavors and heading to the front grabbing a case of Dr. Pepper.

Getting to the register you talked to Ms. Darner the nice old lady who worked there on Friday nights.

“Hello Y/n late night,” she said cheerily.

“yeah finally got this Saturday off,” you say as she scans your items.

“That's good dear bringing this to your boyfriend?” she always assumed you had one which you don't blame her most people had thought you were with Eddie and you don't blame her while Gareth was at school finishing his senior year you and Eddie would be seen together. 

“Yeah we’re having a movie night tomorrow,” you say grabbing your wallet.

“Ah well I hope you have a good day off,” she replies smiling at you.

“Thank you,” you grabbed the bag and started leaving the 7/11.

The quick shopping run left you to think about what would have happened if Eddie hadn't survived the events of senior year and what would you be doing now. The dark thinking causes you to shake your head preferring not to think about what could have happened if Steve Nancy and Robin hadn't killed Vecna.

you arrive after 20 mins of driving from the convenience store. getting out of your truck with the paper bags making your way threw the door struggling with the bags in your arms

“With your current findings, the body of the mysterious magic user you had talked to earlier. You can either mention it to the rest of the party or allow them to continue,” Eddie's voice with an eerie tone fills your ears.

“Do I gain anything from telling them,” Erica said ”I don't know! us knowing about a dead body” Gareth said from the front of the table.

Eddie’s eyes follow you threw the door. the convo between the senior and middle schooler

“Hi Y/n,” they both said

“hey, guys don't mind me continuing with your session,” you say smiling at the group trying to juggle bags and a Slurpee and putting the cans in the fridge.

 Grabbing the last can of Dr. Pepper you go over to the table set up in the living room of the trailer. you grab the mountain dew sat in front of Gareth and replace it with Dr. Pepper. making him look up and smile and look at you. You give him a quick peck and move over to Eddie and place the can of mountain dew over in front of him while also grabbing the empty cans you go to walk away before Eddie grabs your arm leaning up to press his lips to yours softly it was quick but still filled with passion.

Gareth continued arguing about the morality of leading the group to possible death.

“Technically you don't know shit cause I'm not gonna tell the group we’ll probably be fine anyway,” leaving Gareth to glare at the girl from across the table.

You threw the cans away and looked for the Oreos you left at Eddies hoping that they would still be there looking in the hiding spot you left them finding them to be gone. you were surely going to bring it up to Eddie later. Your sure he probably ate them while high and having the munchies? You sat on the moved couch watching the session go on for about another hour before some of the younger kids had to be taken home.

“Do you guys need a ride,” you said with a yawn. getting up and stretching.

“No we biked here well just bike home,” Mike said 

The idea of that happening didn't sit well with you knowing how weird Hawkins could be at night people tending to go missing even tho Vecna was dead the anxiety did sit well in your stomach “why don't you put them in the back truck I can drive you home.” you said your voice laced with exhaustion.

“I can make sure they get some” Jeff offered probably able to tell you were tired from work.

Your willing to agree with that everyone leaving you saying bye to them as you close and lock the door as Eddie cleans the table and puts it away helping you move the couch. 

“So how was work,” he asked looking over at you as you move across the room to him.

 Leaving you to let out an exhausted grown into his shoulder as you wrap your arms around his waist 

“It was interesting got some orders for some cakes with like peoples odd ass names or sayings” you mumbled into his shoulder from behind. Gareth was changing into some pj’s

“If I see another Karen I'm going to scream,” you said leaving Eddie to laugh.

“I mean like half the moms here are named Karen,” Eddie said

“Trust me I know,” as you were talking to Eddie, Gareth came out of the bathroom in some red plaid PJ bottoms and a grey shirt.

“Gar did you pick up the movies for tomorrow” 

“Sure did, all ready for tomorrow ” you let go of Eddie to wrap your arms around Gareth kissing him sweetly fingers grazing his sides

“Well see what you picked out tomorrow… you didn't choose only horror movies right?” you say after pulling away

“….”

“Right?” the shorter brown haired didn't answer simply looking at you with his lips pressed to a thin line not looking you in the eye

you let out a sigh “it's fine I kinda expected that would happen” you give a light chuckle kissing his cheek

“Okay I'm honestly exhausted and unless you two want me to drop dead right here then, let's head to be” Eddie made sure to lock the doors and turn the lights off as you and Gareth head to his bedroom. you laid down arms wrapped around Gareth and in his hair messaging his scalp as Eddie came in tried to quickly change and lay down and wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your shoulder, the feeling of closeness between the 3 of you was comforting

“I love you both” left your mouth before falling asleep.

[col0rlord]

Here again

Five Hargreeves x reader

Power: shapeshifter

Not really any warnings.

Thank you for anyone who read this. I’m not that good at writing, sometimes I am

————————

I hit the ground really hard and groaned. I saw I was in an ally way and it was night time. I saw a flash and tried to focus my eyes after that. I stood up and ran to the side of the road and look for anyone really

“Oh honey where are your parents?” I heard a woman’s voice say.

I turned to look were is was from and I saw a younger woman, maybe about late 20’s. She had cat eye glasses with a chain that wrapped around from the back to the other side.

“What year is it, and and where am i?” I asked as I walked over to me and she grabbed my by my biceps. she looked me up and down with wide eyes.

“It’s 1961 in Houston, Texas. Here let me take you home honey.”she started pulling me to walk with her. I was so in shock I just went along with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I learned that her name was Cindy Russell and she was a high school teacher. She told me she was going to put an add in the paper to see if anyone was going to get you. After that she told me to take a shower and she would talk to me after that.

When I came out she was sitting in the living room smoking a cigarette and reading the news paper. After she saw me she put her cigarette out and asked me to follow her.

“Honey, we are going to put this add in the paper and if no one says anything in a week. I think I’m going to keep you here. We need to enroll you into school though. We will do that tomorrow. I’ve got clothes from my nieces and she looks about your size. For now just get some rest.” After that she walked out of the bedroom. It was a nice bedroom for the time. Was orange themed.

I started looking around to room and figure out what was going on and what day it was. I needed to find the others. I was flipping through anything I could find in the room. Not one thing about anyone. I looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it read 11:37 pm.

It was no hope. I cleaned up everything and went into bed. I turned off the light next to me and that’s when reality hit. I was alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No one answered for a week. You could have guessed. I’m now enrolled into school. We got some clothes that fit me. They really looked cute. I have met some new friends and I learned they live down the road from me.

After school we walk home together and laugh about whatever happened.

“Y/N, I heard that Steve was going to ask you out for Prom are you wanting to go? Stacy asked holding her books to her stomach.

I looked at the ground and smiled. I don’t really know if I want this our not. What about Five. I haven’t heard anything about him, or anyone matter of fact.

“I guess I am.” I smiled at her.

I walked up to the front door and waved her goodbye. I locked the door and sighed.

“Cindy I’m home!” I yelled but didn’t hear anything back. I walked into the kitchen and saw a note with some money.

I walked into the kitchen and saw a note on the counter. Cindy comes home early because she doesn’t have classes the last two blocks.

Dear Y/N,

There was a last minute meeting at the school. I have no idea when I will be back so I left some money for dinner and you can go buy something for yourself. My old bike in in the garage I called Larry to fix for you. Have fun!

Cindy.

Nice. I know where I’m going. The diner downtown. I walked into the garage and grabbed the bike. I had to money in a bag placed in the basket in the front and opened the door.

When I pulled up to the diner I saw a bunch of people yelling and throwing things. I wanted to know what was going on. I saw some people throwing food and stuff at the colored people sitting at the counter. I made my way through to see what was happening a little better. Wait… wait is that…..

“Allison?” I said next to her and she turned to look at me. Her eyes widen and I could tell she really want to hug me but she couldn’t.

“Meet me at Odessa at 8” she told me as she looked forward. I nodded my head and went to a different Diner around here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After I ate and looked around I headed home to see if Cindy was there yet.

“Cindy I’m back! How was the meeting?” I asked as I walked into the house.

I didn’t hear anything. That’s weird. I never heard of a meeting going till 7. I turned into my cat form and left the house for the night.

I was walking along the sidewalk when I heard footsteps right next to me.

I looked up and saw Klaus talking to who I think was Ben. He looked down and saw me and picked me up.

“Y/N, how have you been. Have you been living like this cat the whole time?” He asked holding me up.

I turned back and then he was holding like a baby.

“No Klaus, I haven’t.” I said annoyed that he was still holding me.

“You look good, like a real 60’s babe. Wait till Five sees you dresses like this. Thats beside the point, where- where are you headed?” He said putting me down.

I dusted myself off and looked back at him.

“To see Allison. What have you been doing all this time? When did you get here?” I asked him.

He put his hand to his head and groaned.

“Well now I’m running from the cult I made. I got here in like… when did we get here? I asked the air next to him.

“1960 is when we got here.” I nodded. “Got here about 1961. I live with a teacher and am about to be asked out for prom.” After I said the word Prom Klaus went crazy.

“FIVE IS GOING TO FILP SHIT Y/N!!!” He yelled. The second he said Five my eyes widened.

“You saw five!?” I asked.

After that we both heard a bell ring and saw Allison step out of her store. I grabbed his hand and dragged him inside.

Once we were inside I hugged Allison and looked around at everyone else in the room. I coughed and looked at that ground.

“Everyone this is my brother and sister Klaus and Y/N” Allison said to them.

I smiled and waved.

“We need to find the others. And figure out what is happening and how to fix it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After talking for a while I looked at the time and saw that it was 11:30.

“I got to get home, I have school tomorrow and Cindy will worry. See you all around.” I said then walked out and turned to a cat and ran home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to start another day in school. Stacy said today was the day. Steve is going to ask me. I wanted to look good when he did it so I put on a orange flower button up and a yellow pencil skirt. I put on some of the makeup Cindy had and was off to school.

“You look nice today. Are you excited for Steve to ask you?” She said as we walked through the doors and to our lockers.

“Why wouldn’t I be excited isn’t he like the most popular guy in school. I hope this isn’t some Carrie moment.” I said pull out some books I need.

She looked at me like I was crazy. “You’ll get it in like 20 years. I told her as I closed my locker and walked to class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was lunch time and I was walking to my table with Stacy and Linda and we passed Steve’s table with all his friends. After we sat down I smiled at them and started eating.

After a while of talking and eating we saw Steve stand on the table.

“Can I please have everyone’s attention please!” He yelled with his hands cupping his mouth.

“I would like Y/N Y/L/N to come over here please.” I stood up and walked over to him very slowly not trying to look too excited.

“Will you go to prom with me?” He asked as he had his hand out. I took it and he pulled me up on the table.

Everyone clapped. Some girls rolled there eyes. His friends yelled and High fived him.

After that we all went to our next class and I waved Steve goodbye and walked with Stacy as we both jumped in joy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the end of the day and we all were going home. I saw Steve outside leaning against a tree waiting for me. I told Stacy to wait and I walked over to Steve.

“What color are we going with babe?” I asked Miss. Russell for the house phone so we can talk more later.” He put his arm around my neck and pulled me into a hug.

I waved goodbye and started walked with Stacy.

As we walked I saw a car parked in front for my house and looked at Stacy.

“Go through the back door. Stay safe girl” then she walked away. I opened the gate to our backyard and walked inside.

I walked to my room and put my stuff down.

“Long time no see. Who was that boy you were talking to at school today?” I heard a familiar voice say behind me.

I turned around and saw Five leaning against the door frame. My eyes widened.

“Five I’m so happy you are back!” I yelled as I ran into his arms.

“You didn’t answer my question love, who was that.” 

I looked up at him and smiled.

“He just wanted to know the answers for the homework. He is weird like that. I’m just glad you are here now.”

[connoisseursdecomfort]

Twilight - “Maybe it’s alright to hope a little too”

I was trying to compile an SxF playlist, and I was looking at the song lists I have.

I think at some point this song, 僕が死のうと思ったのは, (Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts) suits [redacted] a lot. I guess I’ve never thought of this song because Twilight has always been keen on taking actions. He actively tries to fix things. But I can’t help to think that at some point in his life he had felt incredibly weak and helpless. 

And this makes me ridiculously sad.

You may say I have chosen violence. But it’s a marvellous song and please give it a try. I’ll put the translation of the lyrics below with some of the panels. Maybe you can read it as if it’s some sort of fanfic.

Most of the translation comes from this version. But I did some modifications based on these two versions (1, 2). 

Manga panels (spoilers) and lyrics ahead.

There was a time when I thought about dying, because the seagulls squawked at the end of the pier. Drifting aimlessly at sea ’til they’d all flown away, having pecked at my life like scraps of bread. There was a time when I thought about dying, because the plum blossoms bloomed on my birthday. If I lie down beneath the sunlight streaming through the trees, will I become like the dirt and insect remains?

Mint candy at the arbors lighthouse. Abandoned bikes strewn by the rusty bridge. I warm myself up at this old wooden station, though I don’t really feel like going anywhere. Today feels exactly like yesterday, and if I don’t change something, tomorrow will be the same. I know. I know. Yet still.

There was a time when I thought about dying, because I was nothing but an empty husk. We cry due to the feeling of emptiness, because we all want to feel fulfilled.

There was a time when I thought about dying, because my shoelaces had come undone. I was never very good at retying them. Kind of like how I am with the ties between people. There was a time when I thought about dying, because my young self in the picture wouldn’t stop staring at me. I fell down to my knees on top of my bed, so that I could apologise to myself.

My computer casts a dim light. The room upstairs sounds the same as ever. The boy trapped inside a birdcage, ears covered to drown out the sounds of the radio transmitter. I’m fighting an enemy I can’t even see, the Don Quixote of this apartment. Honestly, I bet the prize isn’t all that great.

There was a time when I thought about dying, because everyone said I didn’t have a heart. And whenever someone cries longing for another’s love, it’s because they accidentally learned what the real thing feels like.

There was a time when I thought about dying, because you just had to have such a pretty smile. And whenever someone can’t help but think about dying, I’m sure it’s because we’re all trying a little too hard.

There was a time when I thought about dying. It must have been because I hadn’t met you yet. And if people like you can exist in this world, then maybe I like it a little after all.

And if people like you are living in this world, then maybe it’s alright to hope a little too.

[sunboki]

— WHEN THINGS WERE SIMPLE (teaser) a Lee Minho fiction

⭐️ : Lee Minho(Leeknow) x fem. reader

TROPE. school romance, 90’s summer romance, bestfriends to lovers, online au, strangers to lovers, highschool au, small town au

WORD COUNT. less than 10k (most likely)

WARNINGS. light cursing, deep conversation, bankruptcy, anonymous online chatting between strangers — this is in no way recommending anyone to join anonymous chat rooms nor meet up with strangers irl

AUG’S NOTES. hi everyone!! i hope you’re all doing amazing, sorry it’s been so difficult for me to post recently 😅 the taglist for this fic is open so feel free to send in a comment/ask if you’d like to be tagged! thank you for so much support over this.. year and half i’ve been on tumblr?? i hope this fic is up to your expectations, love you lots!!!!

SYNOPSIS. Lee Minho, the newest resident in your small town, has already established a reputation as the Class President despite moving only a week ago. You, on the other hand, don’t really see the appeal, or maybe your schedule is too jam-packed to consider the prospect of boys. In the meantime, you join an anonymous chat room with this so-called "lino98," and eventually, the stranger recommends that you meet holding a yellow tulip and wait- is that who you think it is? 

or alternatively :

Whoever you’ve been talking to in that chat room was definitely not who you thought would be standing in Marronnier Park with a yellow tulip in hand.

“Hey! The sign says no throwing!” You scold, rushing to fix the arm to the statue as the tires on the boy’s bike screech to a halt. And suddenly, it feels like everything’s in slow motion when the perfectly kept head of brown hair swivels back to face you, sharp jawline and piercing eyes belonging to a model-looking stranger you’d never seen before.

Thursday morning was when you first met Minho. Although, you didn’t know his name then, nor that this interaction－the daily magazine breaking your statue’s arm－would change your life.

.

.

.

His expression drops, looking rather bored despite your obviously frazzled (and flustered) state.

“How much?” The bewilderingly attractive boy asks, and it takes you a moment to register what he said, repeatedly glancing from the statue back to him like he was speaking a foreign language.

“It’s.. It’s priceless.” You huff, regarding the stranger with a hard glare as if he’d broken some holy vase or something—he didn’t. In fact, the only reason you felt so worked up was because once your parents saw the statue, you’d be grounded in an instant. You, on the other hand, could care less about the stupid piece of marble.

Mail Boy cleared his throat, his feline eyes studying your face. “Is that so?” He asks, No, mocks. Except his facial expression stays completely unmoving the entire time. It’s like something out of a horror film. “Then it’s especially priceless now, huh.”

Something about his gaze sets you off, not to mention when he flashes a cheeky grin that screams nothing but trouble.

Kicking the kickstand up and hiking his leg over the seat, you freeze in your spot from both shock and confusion.

Where is he going.

Is this guy serious!?

“What’re you- hold on- you can’t just leave!” Racing after him while he positively sped ahead of you on bike, you scream out, slowing down to a halt after a few minutes to watch his silhouette disappear below the winding road traveling down to the village.

Hunched over trying to catch your breath, you mumble silent curses, dragging heavy footsteps up the small arrangement of stairs to try hiding the broken part behind the statue the best you can.

Brushing off your clothes and adjusting the straps to your bag, you start down the same way he disappeared, stomping and groveling in your misery similar to that of a child denied their favorite toy. It’s quite a sight.

Tomorrow, you’ll give that attractive-Mail-Boy-whose-name-unknown a piece of your mind. You’re sure of it.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[piyako]

Deserted Feels

mikey x reader / angst

It used to be love. You thought it used to be. Mikey also thought the same. The both of you were in love for real. No one could deny that. So, you wondered where it went wrong? Pondering each day spent in each other presence only to feel loneliness stemming while embracing tightly.

You thought it was all good. He never complained before. Not when you bent your back typing away on your devices for the tightly roped due dates for both fulltime works and part-time studies. Not even when you forgot to reply to him due to slumber that compelled you in in order to compensate nights of vain rests.

He used to be so understanding.

“Do you really have to be on your phone on our date?” the crease on his forehead was alarming. The eyes that used to sustain cosiness held such revulsion made your fingers jerked, anxious on why he casted that look. “S-sorry.”

“If you’re too busy just say so.” Studying his reaction, it was no huffing matters anymore. As it used to be pouts and grumbles and arms crosses in adorable manners – it was no more. Not when his legs not tangled with yours under the table in the usual diners that was frequented for dates in the middle of the night. Not when he was also on his phone, scrolling mindlessly as if it was the most interesting thing in that space.

“No. I’m sorry. It’s my fault.” The air felt suffocating, forcing you to inhale and exhale uncontrollably. “I should’ve known better.

“Do you have anything to share with me? It’s been a while.”

He had briefly lifted his eyes from his phone, sparing a glance to answer you. “Nothing interesting happened. You?” then continuing his tapping and scrolling activities on his screen. Did that not just him conflicting his comment for you?

Also, when did it start to be difficult to keep the conversation going, you wondered. “Still the same. Works and studies –”

“Sweet. Thanks!” he beamed at the waiter when his food arrived. Not that it was wrong to do just that. Yet your heart seemed to just skip – feeling hurt when it should not be. The date was more short-lived than usual too. Not a moment was savoured before he offered to send you home. It was late he supposed.

“We can ride around first.” You suggested. Hopeful to be embracing his warmth at the back seat of his bike.

“I’m having early day tomorrow. Next time.” He said and that was your defeat.

Looking back, you realized it was denial. No matter how many times the universe gave you signs, you refused to believe them. Not until he told you with his own words. Not until Mikey himself, admitted it.

Texting him felt like a chore. It was since day one. For someone who learned to be frank with answers, communicating with sore alphabet did gave far too many inadequate ‘feelings’ as said by Mikey due to brief answers and question and the lack of emoji usage.

“Mikey, you’re on your phone too much lately.” You commented, putting down his utensils on the table. Your place is his, he once announced, resulting in his own space of wardrobe in there consisted of clothing that he purposedly left. It was funny at first how he discreetly threw his stuff into your washing machine. Until one day he just turned up with a suitcase in which he argued in case he got stranded in your home during apocalypse – his exact words.

He clicked his tongue, a habit when he was annoyed. “I’m not even eating.” He complained.

“I didn’t say you need to eat.”

“Then what’s the problem with me on my phone?” he countered. The chair screeched when he abruptly stood, leaving the dining table to the sofa. You left him be with his act. Unprotected sex always come after coxing him out of his act. You do not hate sex. That needed to be specified, but Mikey repeatedly telling you condoms was not fun and the toll of always taking hormone pills was unruly. That was what you hated about it.

“You’re not even trying at this point.” He hollered from the sofa.

“I’m eating. Fix yourself up.”

He scoffed and even left your house. While he used to come on daily basis, it was dwindled to once a week, twice a month, until he just never showed up uninvited.

For how long it felt, his replies were getting dry. One of the things he complained a lot to you. The one that you always apologize for, admitting it was not one of your many strengths. The call button became recurrent for you to tap whenever he complained about it. You were better with words anyway.

But it stung when even that was overlooked.

His friends did come to you, asking “is everything okay between you and Mikey?” which you were thankful for. They were the most precious you could ever dream of, grateful that God decided to surround him with them.

Answering, “everything’s fine.” And asking, “why would you assume anything was wrong?” was what should made you realised it was them doing their responsibility as your friends. You swore you heard Baji muttered, “I guess Mikey just got bored.” under his breath, in which was dismissed, as meddling with a friend relationship was out of lines.  

Dark days came when the both of you finally snapped. None of it was his fault of course. You will kill yourself if anyone ever presumes it was his.

“It’s not you.” You explained. Gritted teeth, tense jaws, and shoulders stiff – it was stressed you assumed. Surely you could be one of the reasons, but it felt unfair. You were only resting in your own safe haven. How could he come over, took out his frustration and uttering the utmost vile words to you?

“I’m sick of being with someone who never even care about me!” he shouted, accusatory pointing to you alone. His yelled would soon be a problem that you would need to explain to the strict and old neighbours who seemed to be overly sensitive to noises they should just live in the lone of forest to cure it.

Sighing, you pulled him inside. He stood by the doorway, looking totally lost in frustration. Which one was it, you not caring enough for him, or you pulling him into your home just to give solace in your embrace?

He smelt nice. Soft, floral fragrance that was quite strong on his shirt.

“You just don’t care enough, do you?” he quivered as you collected him into your arms. What made you broke was the fact that it was true. The crook of your neck where he buried his face felt wet. It broke you; it really did. You just never thought it was the time he decided it was enough for him – for the both of you.

“You abandon me.” He breathed out.

Who actually put this whole ordeal of you deserting him? Was it someone who cares for him? Was it his friends? Mikey’s friends are delinquents who cares less about another being, much less their scents. Floral fragrances, nonetheless. Why did he take you as an easy victim, was something you took to the heart sincerely.

You were set. You wanted to be with him for the rest of your life after settling the life you owe your parents. He acknowledged that traumatizing story of yours. How it was suffocating to live under the thin thread controlled by your guardian.

“Let’s break up.” Were his last words.

“Okay. Have a good life Mikey.” You bid. It took him by surprise too on how easily you agreed to part with him. However, he said none for it. As helpless as he thought he was, you actually drowned. He completely voided his presence from your life after that. Not that you did not care, you were too busy paving your ways to succession that you dreamt to even spare yourself to indulge in grief of parting ways with him.  

From your point of view, it was partly your fault – you, for forgetting the date you promised him that day. You made him wait in the heat of summer for hours until he decided to show up on your door, damaged for being disregarded. Though it was your first time, it was also what it took for him to seize the chance to leave you.

Last but not least, you must also admit on how unreliable you are as a narrator of this heart-breaking story. Many times, you contradict your own feelings, saying you were fine but at the same time you are not. Writing you were at fault then continuing in the later story that you were also a victim.

What was it? When and where was the wrong came in your own relationship that you nurtured for years only for it to be rendered futile?

[snapthistiger]

exercise 08102023

bike ride to the gym

8 x 10 incline sit ups

5 x 10 pec machine

3 x 10 lat raise

45 minute spin class

bike ride to my Mom's house, then home

the gym workers received mini Hershey bars

my Mom was awake. brought the mail in and charged her iphone and gave her morning meds. also watered her plants.

top left = my weight has been steady

bottom = beautiful blue sky and clouds

brought my bicycle to the repair shop and the fix was a little more work than i hoped for but less expensive than i expected; so an overall win. the bike is fixed and back home, too. so speedy repair.

cut my hair this afternoon and took an outside shower to rinse off the sticky sweat from exercise

for supper, i'm grilling some red snapper that my son in law gave me

current temperature = 100F w/ feels like 120F

with about 5 minutes left in spin class an older guy comes into class and starts talking to the instructor. the guy is ~91 years old and i can tell the instructor is not happy with him but she is kind anyway.

tomorrow = 1st day of school for children in my area, so have to be more careful of traffic when i'm on my bicycle

hope you have a peaceful afternoon and evening..

[pbandjesse]

I think the stress got to me today. Like. A lot. I could not get out of bed. I couldn't do anything. I didn't do anything. I felt terrible about that.

I didn't even sleep bad last night. I had some vivid dreams. But nothing insane. I just couldn't shake off my stress.

I woke up and James was not here. They had gone on a long bike ride with Gabe. Gabe moves away on Sunday so they wanted to get at least this last ride together.

I got dressed and just was cold. I couldn't get it together. I had my leftover pancakes for dinner and tried to look over my to do list. But there wasn't much I could do.

James would come home and we would hang out for a little while. But by 11 I was just like. I have to lay down. I felt so foggy.

I mostly just wanted videos. Pet Sweetp. And around noon James left to go take our decorations to their parents house.

I fell asleep around that time. And slept until 2.

When I woke up James was here. I had to do some office work sorting out schedule stuff for the museum and for puhtok. My whole November is pretty full and that feels good. Also scary but mostly good.

We had leftovers for dinner. And I continued to not be able to do anything.

James would head out to pick up their jacket from the tailor. I would start trying to get the cat hair off our banner. Which one the front went well but I ran out of steam doing the back. So who knows if the back will happen.

James got back and got a phone call with wedding drama. Ugh. Something had to go wrong.

The people we rented out tables from canceled. So we don't have tables. I don't even understand what this means. I know our venue has some but are they all round? And if they are round that means our seating chart is obsolete. And if they are round I won't be like. Heart broken. But I am pretty torn up about it because it's not going to look how I have envisioned this whole time. And it just feels like another time the way I wanted the wedding didn't work and that sucks. I really hope we can fix this.

I sort of lost the little bit of energy I had though. And ended up back in bed for a while. Just texting my friends trying to talk through what was happening.

Me and James sat out on the fire escape. And eventually I just sat out there alone with Sweetp. James went out again and got us some stuff form the store. Including ice cream. So they made me a milkshake and that was really nice of them.

We laid on the couch together. And eventually I went and played with my makeup for the wedding again. This run went really well! I still would like to attempt false lashes tomorrow. But I did a lower lashline eyeshadow and it worked really well. James came to give me feedback after I asked and they kept telling me how pretty I was and making me feel so nice.

I went to wash that off. Took a bath. Watched a scary video.

James tried on their whole wedding look. I am excited to see them but also I'm excited it gets to be a surprise. We don't have many of those. So like the first look and the vows. I'm excited about those.

Now we are in bed. And my stomach hurts a little but that is okay. I hope tomorrow I have energy again. James and me are going to go out for a drive and go to Marshalls and the pet store for some stuff. I can't believe tomorrow is. Our wedding Adam. Wild. So wild.

Goodnight everyone. Take care of yourself!! Wash your hands!!