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ming-yu-hao · 3 years

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Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 3

Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader

Word Count: 6k

Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.

This Chapter’s Tags: angst, protected sex, finger sucking, grinding, light choking/spanking/dirty talk, mingyu just being an ass man, riding, cheating obviously

Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

A/N: Y’ALLLLL I’m sorry this took me forever to upload... I just got super busy but there won’t be as long as a wait for the next chapter! As always feedback is appreciated and I hope you guys like this :)

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Your knees quivered beneath you as you pulled the soft fabric of your leggings up your thighs and over your hips. You bent down to pick up your shirt that was still balled up on the floor, and when you stood again you could hear the bed rustle behind you as Mingyu shifted his weight.

Guilt didn't hit you until you slipped your shirt back over your head, fully dressing yourself once again.

What had you done?

Without looking at him, you spoke: "I think I should go now."

He was silent.

You stepped over to the door, your hand about to twist the knob when he finally called out to you.

"Y/N."

You looked at him. He was sitting up on his bed; his dark hair was a mess, hanging over his forehead. His lips were parted like he didn't know what to say.

"Um, don't forget your jacket. It's cold outside." He pointed to your jacket that was still discarded on the floor.

"Oh, thanks," you said with your voice wavering. You quickly picked up the jacket and headed for the door again.

"Text me when you get home, okay?" Mingyu rushed to say. The corners of his mouth quirked up into a thin, awkward smile and you nodded your head in response.

Why did he suddenly care? He used to just be some guy you sat next to in class. When did he want to become your friend? When did he start to become protective over you? Was this all really just because of his half-drunken encounter with you at that party? Did the moment you two shared that night cause him to feel some kind of attachment to you? Thinking about it all made your head spin. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You turned the knob and cracked open the door when Mingyu spoke again.

"Um, also... you know, if you ever need anything... I'm here for you." His voice shook a bit.

You exhaled. "Thank you."

You slipped out of his room before he could say anything else and stepped down the stairs quietly, attempting to dart out the front door before anyone could see you. There was a small group of people hanging out in the living room like Mingyu had said, their laughter and conversations loud and echoing through the house.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you kept your gaze down at your feet while you scanned the floor for your shoes.

"Y/N?" You heard a voice call from behind you.

You huffed out a quiet breath in frustration before turning around with an overly sweet smile on your face. Your eyes landed on Seungcheol.

"Oh, hey! It's weird not seeing Jisoo following you around." You joked.

Seungcheol smiled sheepishly. "Yeah..." He trailed off, looking down at the ground.

"Are you guys dating?" You probed with a raised eyebrow.

"I wanted to talk to you about that, actually." He admitted, making eye contact with you. Curiosity plagued you, and you stared at him expectantly as you waited for him to speak. "I wanna do something special for her when I ask her out... just cause, I don't know, I really like her." He stammered nervously, lowering his voice so no one could eavesdrop.

You gave him a genuine smile. You were happy that Jisoo had found someone that truly liked her. Ever since the beginning of the semester, she had been cycling through an array of terrible guys that used and ghosted her. Seungcheol seemed like a genuinely good person; you trusted him to take care of her.

You brought your hand to your chin as you pondered for a moment. "Well, if I'm being honest, she's, like, a huge hopeless romantic. Loves cheesy romance movies and stuff." You started, "If you took her out to a nice dinner and walked around some really pretty, romantic place after, that'd be her dream come true."

Seungcheol nodded, his eyes glazed over in deep thought as he acknowledged your advice. "Yeah, that sounds like her." He smiled. "Thanks."

You nodded. "So... how did the raffle go?"

"It went really good, actually." He responded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "The money's going to a child psychology organization. I've been doing research with them for a few months now."

Your eyes lit up in interest at his story. "That's really cool. Have you discovered any groundbreaking research yet?" You half-joked.

He chuckled, "I guess a little bit."

A lightbulb suddenly went off in your brain. "Hey, do you think I could interview you about all this research stuff you've done? I need to write an article for class."

Seungcheol shrugged. "Sure."

You spent the next few minutes probing him about how he got involved in the program, what he had been researching, his motivation to study child psychology—all while taking down notes on your phone. He explained to you how he had struggled with anxiety his whole life and wanted to find a way to help others. In the back of your mind, this was all affirming why he was such a good match for Jisoo. He was caring, passionate, charitable. Your heart warmed at the thought of Jisoo finally settling down with someone who was actually a good person.

Your interview came to an end and you thanked Seungcheol for helping you out. He nodded before glancing down at the jacket you were carrying in your arms.

"Were you planning on leaving?" He asked.

"Yeah, I need to go work on homework and stuff." You answered.

He attempted to suppress his smirk by biting his lip. "You and Mingyu didn't get much work done together?" He raised his eyebrows at you.

You felt your heart drop into your stomach. "What?"

"Relax, I'm just kidding." Seungcheol laughed. "He just seemed comfortable with you earlier, you know?"

The tension in your stomach loosened a little as you realized that he didn't actually know what happened between you two. This is exactly what Mingyu was worried about earlier. So it was true that Seungcheol liked to play matchmaker and get involved in everyone else's relationships.

"There's nothing going on between you guys?" Seungcheol questioned after you didn't respond.

You felt your cheeks grow hot with irritation. "No. I have a boyfriend." You said curtly.

Seungcheol's mouth formed an O-shape at the sudden coldness in your tone. "I-I'm sorry, I was just kidding." He quickly apologized.

"It's okay." You sighed. You glanced around for your shoes, avoiding his regretful gaze.

"Well, I really have to get going. Thanks for helping me out." You said as you slipped on your shoes.

He smiled apologetically and walked you over to the door. "See you, Y/N!" He called behind you as you stepped out into the cold.

You buried yourself in work for the next two days. You figured it was easier to just get lost in the flow of doing assignment after assignment rather than to think about what happened.

But no matter what you did, your mind still wandered back to that moment—when your lips finally met Mingyu's, and his body pressed against yours.

The worst part was that you didn't even try to stop him: you had agreed to it, and God, you even thanked him for it! You weren't even sure if you could regret what happened. You hated yourself for betraying Wonwoo's trust, but at the same time you craved attention and affection. Mingyu just happened to be the one that fulfilled your wishes after all this time.

You would never tell Mingyu that, of course. Honestly, you were unsure if you could even face him about it. He could tell that you felt guilty afterwards. If you just finished this stupid project and avoided him for the rest of the semester, he would probably get the hint and leave you alone.

It was Saturday evening when you typed the last words of your article on Seungcheol and his research. You hadn't talked to Mingyu since you left his room on Thursday night, but you needed him to complete his share of the work. Sighing, you picked up your phone and pulled up your messages with him. You quickly explained what kind of pictures he needed to take and told him to send them to you (so you could avoid seeing him anymore than you needed to).

You clicked out of your conversation, and that's when your eyes landed on the messages that were still unread by Wonwoo. You wanted to ask him what he was doing, but after three days with no response, it felt pathetic to even attempt to strike up a conversation now.

The sound of the door knob jiggling startled you before Jisoo busted into the room a moment later.

"Y/N!" She cheered in a sing-song voice. "We have another party to go to tonight!"

You already knew exactly where this party was going to be, and you felt your stomach drop at the thought of running into Mingyu.

You shook your head. "No way, Jisoo. I'm way too busy." You lied.

She pouted her lips at you. "Really? You've been working nonstop. How're you still not done?"

You shrugged and let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Well, you can take a break for a few hours. I promise I won't leave you this time. You can hangout with me and Cheol." She begged, looking at you with wide, saddened eyes.

Your phone vibrated between your hands, and when you glanced down you saw Mingyu's name on the screen.

Mingyu: I'm actually gonna be out studying and working on some stuff with a friend tonight. I promise I'll get the pics for you tomorrow :) Sent at 7:37 PM

You thought it was a little weird for a guy like Mingyu to be studying on a Saturday night, but when you realized that he wouldn't be at the party, relief flooded over you.

You looked up at Jisoo and saw her still expectantly staring at you, waiting for your response.

"I- I guess I could go for a bit."

"YES!" Seungkwan shrieked as he successfully landed another ball in one of Jisoo's cups. He turned to you and wildly smacked your palm in a high five, nearly hitting you in the face. Your stomach was starting to hurt from laughing for the past ten minutes over the intense match of beer pong in front of you.

The crowd around the table reacted loudly, some cheering and some booing as Jisoo downed another cup of alcohol. She shivered at the taste and Seungcheol came up from behind to pat her on the back. His lips moved as he said something to her, but with music blasting through the house so loud, you couldn't make out a single word.

Your phone vibrated in your back pocket. Without much thought, you pulled it out and quickly glanced at the screen.

Your heart sank into your stomach as you realized: Wonwoo was calling.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath. You had completely forgotten that Saturday's were now reserved for your FaceTime dates.

You looked up at everyone with wide eyes, but they were too immersed in the game to notice your reaction. You pushed your way through the crowd and slipped into the bathroom before Jisoo or anyone else could come looking for you.

By the time you reached the bathroom and locked the door, the FaceTime call had already stopped ringing. Leaning against the door, you scrolled through your contacts and called back, but only as a phone call.

Wonwoo answered after two rings.

"Hey, everything alright?" He asked.

You swallowed. "Uh... yeah."

"Why didn't you FaceTime?" He continued. You hesitated, but then he spoke before you could say anything. "Why is it so loud? Where are you?"

You cursed yourself for not running away to a room that was farther away from all the music and noise outside the door. Fidgeting with your fingers, you answered: "A party."

"Oookay," he scoffed. "You could've at least let me know if you were gonna go out. But it's fine. Have fun, I guess." He responded coldly.

Your brows furrowed together instinctively. Now it was your turn to scoff at him. "You're not serious, are you?" The skin of your face grew warmer. Wonwoo was quiet. "I forgot. Sorry." You admitted through grit teeth.

"Why're you so mad?" He questioned in a defensive tone.

You rolled your eyes. "This is the first time I've ever cancelled on you and it was an accident. Do I need to remind you of all the times you ditched me?"

Wonwoo didn't respond.

"And what the fuck have you been doing the past three days that you couldn't respond to me?" You spat. Blood was rushing through your veins quickly now as anger took over.

He sighed through the receiver. "I was busy."

"Does it really take that much time to send a text to your fucking girlfriend?" Your voice began to rise. "How do you expect this to work if you don't even talk to me?"

"I'm sor-" He began to speak, but you interrupted him.

"You know, sometimes it feels like I'm dating nobody!" You cried. "Do you even realize how lonely I feel?" Your voice shook with each word as your throat grew tighter; tears welled up in your eyes. You didn't want to cry, but all the frustration you had bottled up the past couple months was finally spilling over.

In a calm voice, all Wonwoo said was: "I'm trying."

"Not hard enough." You scoffed.

"What the fuck, Y/N? Where is this coming from?" He cried. The sudden rise in his voice startled you a bit.

The phone shook in your grasp. "You act like I don't even exist! How can you call that trying?"

"Fuck, I'm not dealing with this right now. Go back to your stupid fucking party." He snapped.

"Yeah, just go and ignore me again!" You laughed sardonically.

The three tones of the call ending sounded abruptly. You looked down at your phone in shock. He had hung up on you.

Your hands balled into fists as you threw your head back against the door. Your jaw was tense, but your bottom lip still quivered.

He had done it again. It seemed it was becoming easy for him at this point—abandoning you when you needed him.

This wasn't going to last much longer if the two of you couldn't figure this out.

When you pressed your lips into a thin line, tears slipped down, staining the bags under your eyes with makeup.

Was he giving up on you?

Your head began to pound. You couldn't stand being in this hot bathroom any longer, much less this party in general. You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand and turned to unlock the door.

As you took a step out of the bathroom, you kept your gaze locked on your feet; you didn't want anyone to notice the state you were currently in.

Not even a moment after opening the door, you collided with a tall, warm body.

"Sorry," you mumbled, pushing past.

"Y/N?" A familiar voice called. Strong hands grasped your forearm, and you glanced up at the figure.

Mingyu.

What force was bringing you back to him once again?

His lips parted in a small gasp as he noticed the redness in your tearful eyes. "Hey, what's wrong? Come here."

Before you could protest, he guided you back into the bathroom, closing and locking the door so no one could bother you two.

You kept your eyes down at the ground, unable to look at him. As he approached you, the heat of his skin radiated against you.

"I thought you were out studying." You spoke, breaking the silence.

Mingyu's hands found your jaw. He ran the smooth skin of his thumbs over your cheeks, wiping the tears that remained. "I finished early," he explained.

"Look at me," Mingyu whispered. You swallowed and blinked before meeting his eyes.

You didn't notice the thin, black-rimmed glasses that were resting on his nose before. His dark hair was pushed back, and his tan skin glowed under the bathroom light. You hated how instinctively drawn you felt to his presence.

You started to think that Kim Mingyu might be the Devil, disguised in the form of a beautiful boy that always knew the right words to say. He was here to tempt you, to swindle you at your most vulnerable moments, to test your fidelity. And you were weak enough to cave in.

"Is it your boyfriend?" He asked.

The gaze he held on you was so intense that you found yourself staring at the frames of his glasses instead of his eyes. You nodded silently in response to his question.

"Talk to me. What happened?" Mingyu cooed as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs.

"I-" You started, but let out a sigh instead. "We just fought. I don't know. I don't wanna talk about it." You rambled.

"Okay," he nodded. "Sorry if I pushed it." He removed his hands from your face. The skin suddenly felt cold without his touch.

He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "We can talk about something else."

You stood still, nodding, but couldn't think of anything to say.

"You know," Mingyu started, "You look really pretty. Even when you're crying." Your skin flushed at the compliment.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you wiped the last remnants of makeup off your cheeks. "Is that your go-to line for every girl?" You joked.

"No," he replied. "Just cause I'm in a frat doesn't mean I'm a douche."

You snickered under your breath. "Yeah, but there's gotta be so many girls that hit on you."

"There's some," he shrugged. "Doesn't mean I flirt back."

Your legs were beginning to grow tired from standing, so you walked over to the counter and sat on the edge. You gripped the ledge to keep your balance, swinging your legs back and forth.

Mingyu stood in his same spot, but turned in your direction. He quirked his eyebrows at you. "Are you suggesting that I'm attractive enough to have hundreds of girls swooning over me?" He shot you a teasing grin.

You chuckled and shook your head. "You wish."

Mingyu's jaw dropped in a fake expression of shock as he came closer to you, but he stood to the side to stare at himself in the mirror. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Since when do you wear glasses?" You inquired.

"Since forever." He replied.

Mingyu placed his hands on the edge of the counter, pushing his weight onto them. The muscles in his arms were prominent through his black shirt. Your eyes dragged across his figure, eventually landing on his face again.

"I like them. They look good." You said.

He glanced at you, his eyes laced with hints of suspicion. "Thanks," he said with his voice a little uneven. He cleared his throat and stood up straight. "Did I help get your mind off him a bit?"

You winced at the mention of Wonwoo, but nodded. "Yeah, you did. Thank you." You exhaled.

Mingyu smiled to himself and his eyes met yours once again. "Good. I feel like it's the least I can do to help."

As you stared at him, you admired his features—his soft, clear complexion and plump lips. You suddenly became aware of how close he was to you; his hand was resting only a few inches away from your thigh. Your mind thought back to how it felt when those hands caressed the bare skin of your body. Impulsively, your thighs pressed together at the revisitation of the memory.

The room felt like it had instantly shot up ten degrees, and the heat left your judgement clouded like a foggy mirror. If Mingyu really was the Devil, his plan was working.

You leaned towards him until your face was only a few inches from his. Your breath caught in your throat as you went to speak.

"I really wanna kiss you right now." You admitted quickly, your eyes focused on his lips.

Mingyu backed away. "Are you drunk?" He asked. His eyes were wide with concern as he scanned you.

You remained where you were, embarrassment creeping up on you as you rapidly shook your head. "I haven't drank anything."

Mingyu chewed on his bottom lip. "I- I don't think it's a good idea. After last time..." he trailed off, glancing up to peek at your reaction. "I don't want you to do something you'll regret again."

"I don't regret it." You blurted before you could stop yourself.

You weren't sure what you were doing or where you wanted to go with this, but you couldn't stop. A feeling of lust had possessed you at this point, controlling your every word and action.

Mingyu looked taken aback at your confession, standing up straighter. His lips were parted in uncertainty, but you watched as his eyes flicked down to look at your lips.

"You don't?" He asked, inching closer to you.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest now. You quickly shook your head. "No."

His right hand found a place to rest under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him as his face neared yours. He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

Desire had overcome you so strongly at this point that you couldn't bring yourself to answer him through words. Instead, you crashed your lips onto his.

Mingyu responded eagerly, his kisses fueled with the same amount of force. Your hands quickly found purchase on the nape of his neck, pulling his body closer to yours. Right as you spread your legs to allow him to stand in between them, Mingyu's tongue darted against your lips, slipping into your mouth when you parted your lips for him.

He placed his left hand on your inner thigh, roughly squeezing the flesh between his fingers as he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, and he dragged his other hand down to the small of your back to pull you closer to him.

Now your core was pressed against his. Mingyu removed his lips from yours, only to place open-mouthed kisses on the area below your ear. You jerked your hips up as he nibbled lightly on the skin, the friction between your thighs growing.

Your jaw hung open as your arousal increased with each moment; your breathing became heavy while you panted into his ear. He sucked on your collarbone, and a chill shot it's way up your spine. You whimpered loudly and you could feel Mingyu smirk against your skin.

"You sound so pretty," he mumbled, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. He lifted his head, his tongue poking out of his cheek while he observed you. Your head was thrown back, eyes half shut, and you were ever so slightly grinding your hips against his for the smallest bit of relief.

Mingyu brought his fingers up to your lips, tapping on the soft skin to catch your attention. "Suck," he said, watching as you obediently parted your lips for him. He shoved two of his fingers into your mouth and pressed them down against your tongue. You could feel wetness building up between your legs. Even though it wasn't anything extreme, Wonwoo never did stuff like this with you in bed. You had to admit, all the new things that Mingyu was introducing to you excited you.

You hummed against him as he stuffed your mouth, almost gagging when his fingers neared the back of your throat. You swirled your tongue around his digits before he quickly pulled them away. You opened your eyes, staring at him in confusion, but his hungry gaze was already locked in on your core. He fumbled with the button of your jeans, and you felt your arousal suddenly spike at the thought of his fingers inside you.

You helped him shuffle your jeans over your ass and down to your knees. He bit his lip as he stared at your clothed heat, his cock stiffening beneath his own jeans, and pressed his dampened fingers to your clit through the fabric of your underwear.

You gasped quietly at the contact, but it wasn't enough. "Mmh, Mingyu," you whined. "Please."

"So needy," he teased with a smirk on his lips. He slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, pressing into your slick folds. His breathing grew heavier. "How're you so wet? I barely even touched you." He breathed against your cheek before he pressed a soft kiss to it. You blushed at his teasing words.

Mingyu rubbed your clit in slow circles, spreading your arousal around your folds. He pressed his lips to yours again, swallowing the moans you were letting out. He dragged his fingers down your heat, teasing your entrance by avoiding it. You clenched around nothing.

"Mingyu, I need you," you muttered against his lips.

"My fingers?" He questioned teasingly, pushing the tips of his digits into your core.

Desire was eating away at you, clouding your thoughts and replacing them with lust-filled ones. You bucked your hips up into his hand, whimpering beneath him.

"No, I want... you." You panted, looking up at him. Embarrassment picked away at you due to your vague request. His eyes appeared even darker than usual as he stared down at you with lust, registering what you were asking for.

Just as he was about to speak, the door knob shook, followed by loud pounding on the door. You jumped, and Mingyu quickly pulled his fingers away from your heat, leaving you with nothing.

"Open up!" A voice called from outside the door. "I have to piss!"

Oh, how wonderful.

You looked to Mingyu with wide eyes, and he motioned for you to stand up. "Pull your pants up!" He shouted at you in a whisper as he wiped his hands on his jeans. He stepped away from the counter, pressing his lips together in frustration as he realized the tent in his pants was painfully obvious.

You pushed yourself off the counter, standing up with shaky legs as you quickly pulled your pants over your hips and re-buttoned them.

The door knob jiggled again. "I'm literally gonna piss myself if you don't open this door in five seconds!" The same voice cried.

"What do we do?" You whispered to Mingyu.

He sighed. "Get out of here as fast as possible and go to my room." Your stomach flipped at the mention of his bedroom; you were really about to go through with this. He reached his hand out for you to grab, and you took hold of it as he led you both to the door.

Mingyu fumbled with the lock, and the door busted open a moment later, revealing a very drunken boy on the other side. He looked both of you up and down. You ducked down slightly, attempting to hide your face behind Mingyu's broad shoulders.

"Fuck, Mingyu? Really? The bathroom?" The boy said with disgust.

Mingyu rolled his eyes, his hand squeezing yours tighter. "Fuck off, Soonyoung." He replied before rushing out of the bathroom with you following close behind.

You couldn't help giggling at Mingyu's comment. He glanced over his shoulder when he noticed you laughing, a smile finding its way to his own lips as he chuckled at you. "Was I too harsh?" He joked.

Mingyu dragged you through the house quickly, and when you reached the bottom of the stairs, he pushed you in front of him to lead the way. You rushed up the steps, and when you neared the top, a sudden smack was delivered to your butt.

You let out a cry, followed by laughter of disbelief. "Mingyu!" You exclaimed with your jaw dropped once you reached the top of the stairs.

Mingyu stood behind you, his hands gripping your waist. He giggled into your ear. "I'm sorry, your ass is so cute." He placed a soft peck to your cheek.

"Let's go," he whispered, his voice suddenly an octave lower. Your stomach twisted, and Mingyu began leading you towards his room with his hands still on your hips.

He let go of you to twist the knob and push the door open, but as soon as you stepped foot into his room, his hands found your waist again and hurriedly pushed you further past the door. He kicked the door closed behind him, pushing you up against the wood. His lips quickly found yours, kissing you with even more intensity than before.

You could barely catch your breath as Mingyu gave you more rough kisses. He was being taken over by lust; he pressed himself against you, allowing you to feel the hardness in his pants. You ran one hand from his shoulder down his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt tensing at your touch. Finally you palmed him through his jeans and he groaned against your mouth.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy." He whispered before placing one more messy kiss to your lips. He pulled away to slip his fingers under the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head quickly and tossing it to the floor. His lips found your neck again, and you moaned as his tongue darted out to lick your sensitive spot. His hands were on your ass, pulling you closer to him and squeezing the soft skin.

Your head rolled back. "Shit, Mingyu," you moaned. "I need you now."

Mingyu pulled away to look down at you with a grin on his face. "Yeah?" He raised his eyebrow. He spanked your ass lightly, causing you to whimper and lean into him. "Go to the bed." He demanded, stepping away from you.

You walked to the bed, trying to swing your hips to hide the nervous wobble in your knees. You felt Mingyu come up behind you, his body pressing against yours. His stiff cock was brushing against your thigh. You turned around, sitting on the edge of the bed as you looked up at him.

"When are you gonna take this off?" You questioned while toying with the fabric of his shirt.

He chewed on his lip as he smirked at you. Without a word, he pulled it over his head, exposing his muscular arms and toned chest. Your eyes dragged hungrily over his torso, drinking in the sight of the outline of his abs.

"Better?" He teased, interrupting your admiring of his body. You looked up at his face. His glasses still rested on his nose, but his hair was slightly disheveled and his lips were now pink and swollen from kissing yours. You were breathless. He was beautiful, and you wanted him so badly.

You perked up from the position you were sitting in, a surge of confidence driven by desire guiding you. "Lie down," you commanded. Mingyu looked taken aback for a moment as he processed your sudden dominance, but he just chuckled and laid down without protest.

Once his back was against the mattress and he was splayed out beneath you, you crawled up towards him, straddling his hips. You dragged your hands down his chest, admiring the softness and warmth of his skin while you began to grind against him.

Mingyu threw his head back as he moaned softly, and you felt yourself clench at the sound. You leaned down, pressing your chest to his as you left kisses on his neck. His hips bucked up into your center. The friction between your bodies was so intense it was driving you insane.

You felt his fingers drag across your spine, causing goosebumps to from across your skin. He fumbled with the clasp of your bra and pulled the straps down your arms. You sat up to fully pull it off and throw it somewhere in the room, and Mingyu quickly brought his hands to your breasts. He squeezed the sensitive buds, twisting your nipples between his fingers. You moaned and pressed your hips into his even harder.

"Ride me," Mingyu mumbled into your ear. Unable to form any words, you nodded, reaching for the button of his jeans.

You lifted yourself off him to help him unzip his pants, and once he started pulling them off you kneeled to the side to discard your own jeans. Just as you began pulling your underwear down your thighs, Mingyu reached for the nightstand next to his bed, shuffling around in the drawer and eventually pulling out a condom.

He pulled his cock out of his boxers, and it stood stiffly against his stomach. He quickly ripped open the package, sliding the latex over his shaft. You straddled his thighs again, about to sink yourself onto him when he quickly grabbed your hips.

"No, no." He said. "Turn around."

You looked at him in confusion. "But-"

"Just trust me," he added, pressing a soft kiss to your chest.

You turned around so your back was facing him, still straddling his thighs. He kept one hand on your waist as the other reached for his cock. He guided the stiff head through your folds, wetting his cock with your arousal. When the tip brushed against your clit you whimpered as you clenched around nothing again.

"Please, Mingyu," you whined.

He dragged the head down to your entrance, finally pushing into you. Both of his hands rested on your hips now as he slowly sunk you down onto him.

You moaned at the slight burning sensation the stretch left behind. It had already been months since a dick was last inside you, and with Mingyu's size it was even more intense.

You aided by lowering yourself onto his cock, and once he bottomed out inside you he stayed still to let you adjust. His dick twitched inside you, and you clenched around him in response.

"You're so fucking tight," he moaned into your ear. He began nibbling and sucking at the skin between your neck and shoulder from behind you, and you whined in response.

You lifted yourself off him slowly, basking in the feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls. You sunk down fully onto him before raising your hips again, finally beginning to ride him.

Mingyu allowed you to work yourself against his length while he brought one hand to your breast again. You moaned loudly as he squeezed the flesh between his fingers and bucked his hips up into you.

"Mmmh, shit, you feel so good," you babbled before crying loudly again. Mingyu quickly brought his other hand up to your throat, lightly choking you.

"Shhh, baby." He whispered against your skin. "You can't be so loud." His words were followed by another soft slap to your ass, making you whine quietly.

He let go of your throat, bringing both of his hands to your waist once again to speed up your pace. He angled his hips so he could thrust up into you at the same time, and the angle caused him to hit your sensitive spot every time. You panted loudly as the pressure in your lower stomach grew, and you ground yourself against his cock, clenching around him.

"Shit." Mingyu choked out breathlessly. "Tight little pussy's taking me so well."

Maybe it was the filthy words that left his mouth, or the way Mingyu took hold of your hips to slow your pace and thrust into you especially hard, but you felt yourself tip over the edge, your mind cloudy as pleasure overtook you. You couldn't even tell if you were crying out loudly, but you assumed so by the way Mingyu suddenly pulled himself out of you and pushed you forward until your face was pressed into the mattress and he was kneeled behind you.

He thrusted into you roughly now, trying to reach his own high. Your eyes were rolling back into your head as your core tingled with oversensitivity, and you could feel yourself drooling onto the sheets.

He came with a particularly rough grunt, pausing his movements as his cum emptied into the condom inside you. He moaned breathlessly and he slowly pumped himself in and out of you to milk his orgasm. Finally, he pulled himself completely out, and his hand ran across your spine.

"You okay?" He asked, and you lifted yourself onto your hands and knees, nodding. Mingyu looked down at your legs, his lips dropping in a slight gasp. "Your thighs are shaking." He noted out loud.

Your face burnt with embarrassment as you kneeled back onto your knees. When you finally turned to look at Mingyu, he was tossing the condom into the trash. His hair was now pressed to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks were tinted a shade of pink. When his eyes met yours, his lips quirked up into a smile.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get rough with you." He apologized. He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

You shook your head. "N-no, it's okay," you croaked out, finally able to formulate words now that all the post-orgasm bliss was fading away.

You didn't know why, but you felt like you had to be near him. You crawled up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It felt natural. Comfortable. It reminded you of how you felt with Wonwoo. And despite how much you enjoyed feeling Mingyu's soft lips against yours, that thought terrified you.

"Do you regret this?" He mumbled against your lips.

It scared you—the way you were able to betray Wonwoo so easily. Here you were, in bed with another boy: one that you shared inside jokes with and stole kisses from and ran to for comfort. All that you had built with Wonwoo over the past two years—were some miles apart really enough to tear everything down?

You answered honestly.

"No."

#kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #seventeen smut #mingyu imagines

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bookandcranny · 4 years

Text

If You can Change Your Tune

The interloper arrives in a rented moving van, the same sort as all the ones before.

“Are you sure about this?” her friend asks as they pull up to the house. “I know you’ve always had a thing for fixer-uppers but this place might be beyond saving.”

Even as she unlocks the front door the wind whistles a note of warning through its rickety frame. The floorboards beneath their feet crackle and moan at the intrusion.

“All it needs is a little love,” the interloper retorts. Her name is Ann. I remember her from the showing, a woman of insufferably good cheer walking room to room with the equally annoying realtor of the week, a dopey smile hanging from her lips.

I didn’t think much of it at the time. People like her come around from time to time with aspirations in their heads of moving into the rural countryside to rehabilitate my thickets into sprawling gardens or write the next great American novel from within my historic walls. Seeing the reality of the place in person was usually enough to convince them to chase their fantasies elsewhere. However, it appears this particular happy-go-lucky thorn in my side needs a bit more work to dislodge.

“Are you sure you’re not in over your head?” the other one asks. I try to guess at their relationship. Friend? Sister? A lover? I’m sick to death of couples.

“It’s a little late for me to back out now,” Ann laughs, twirling the keys around her finger. “Don’t worry, Nick’s bringing his crew over tomorrow to start on the repairs. She’s a project but the foundation’s sound. Next time you see this place she’ll be a real beauty.”

“’She’?”

“Yeah, you know, like how people call cars or boats a she.” She climbs the stairs and runs her hand along the dusty banister. I think of splinters— with luck maybe she’ll get tetanus- but nothing comes of it.

The house is my body. Two stories, twelve rooms not including the attic, an old-fashioned spiral staircase, and me, the greatest antique of all, left to rot. Once upon a time a family used to live here: a mother and father, a veritable litter of hyperactive young children, uncles and aunts and cousins who would stay with them some summers and during Christmastime, and the wizened pale face of a grandfather who watched over them from above the mantle. It was all very precious, very southern hospitality, very postcard perfect. All very gone. Not even their ghosts remained; just me, and all the better for it.

Chesterfield is the name of the county as well as the nearest town, though from what I understand that’s using the term lightly. Most folks local to the area know better than to disturb me, but sometimes they get bold. Bored teenagers mostly, or suited vultures looking to see if there’s any profit to be squeezed from the property. In its heyday, the house was probably a sight to behold, but I wouldn’t know much about that. Memories of my life, if ever I truly lived, are slippery like oil on the water’s surface, impossible to grasp.

Though without eyes or ears or a mind to make use of them, I can “see” through my many windows— if eyes are the windows to the soul, maybe windows are can be eyes to the spirits— and “hear” any sounds that tremble through my frame. I’m grateful for these senses; they help me keep things in order. If someone starts to get a little too cozy with my corridors, and providing the spiders don’t scare them off first, I just slam a few doors, flicker a few lights, and they go running.

The interloper and her extra finish moving in the last of the boxes. She squeezes her arm and gives her a peck on the cheek.

“I’ll send you pics once I’ve got my room set up,” she says.

“Bold of you to think you’ll survive that long. This place is definitely haunted. Do you get cell service out here? I want to call a coroner and tell them to save your spot.”

“I don’t remember making this big a deal when you moved into your first place.”

“It had bed bugs, but it didn’t have ghosts.”

Ann makes a face. “I’ll take my chances with the ghosts.” She puts an arm around her shoulders. “Kim. You’re acting like I’m dropping off the map. You’re the one leaving the country.”

“For two weeks!” Her expression grows tense. “I feel bad leaving you like this. I should’ve been there for you, there was just so much going on.”

“It wouldn’t have changed my mind.”

She sighs dramatically. “No, nothing can, can it? I fear for whoever you end up tricking into marrying you.”

Ann slaps her playfully on the arm. “Do not start on that. Speaking of which, don’t you have a honeymoon to be on? Go on, get.”

Kim puts her hands up in mock surrender and backs out the front door. I raise one of the loose planks on the porch and she trips, just barely evading a tumble down the front steps.

“See? Cursed!”

“Go!” But she’s laughing as she adds, “Thank you for the help. It means a lot, even if Sophie is gonna kill me for keeping you this long.”

“I’ve got time to talk her down.”

The U-haul rumbles away down the dirt road until it’s a muddled blur in my perception and then, finally, gone. I’m alone with the enemy now. More importantly, she is alone with me.

I slam the door. It’s the easiest most classic trick in the book. Ann jumps and looks around. I know what she’s thinking. Just the wind? Or could it be…?

But no, one small act like that won’t be enough to convince her. With a shrug, she returns to the task of moving in. She shuffles around a few boxes in the foyer and starts moving them one by one up to the second floor. All things considered she hasn’t much to move in, but I’m not fooled. Where one intruder appears, more will follow, and bring all their junk and their noise and their petty living problems with them.

All my original furniture was auctioned off in an estate sale. It took place right here on the lawn, and I watched through my windows as they divvied up my family’s belongings, breaking them down into numbers and measures of worth for the masses. For the most part though I didn’t miss it. The absence of clutter made the space feel bigger, and I got used to the emptiness.

The interloper sets up in the master bedroom and unpacks some supplies to give the room a cursory cleaning. The agency normally sent someone over to prepare the place for new residence, but since the last few rounds of movers had come and gone, they hadn’t bothered. If Ann minds, she doesn’t show it, and I have to admit it’s nice to have someone sweep away the dirt and detritus.

After cleaning to her satisfaction, she starts opening boxes with foreign labels and assembling her furniture from strange little kits, turning sheets of instructions over in her hands as she nibbles on a hangnail. The result is a set of cheap-looking geometric furniture that makes her curse as she accidentally attaches the table leg to the chair and the chair leg to the bedframe. Something about watching her work transfixes me. Probably her comical ineptitude.

After she fixes all the furniture she dresses her new bed and starts cluttering her shelves with all kinds of bizarre toys and knickknacks. Among her affects is a paperback book titled “the art of moving in and moving on”. I scoff.

“This is a temporary arrangement. Very temporary, you got it?” I tell her, though I know she can’t hear me. I know this, but it still annoys me. It feels like she’s ignoring me.

The interloper smiles to herself and takes out a black rectangle that she holds up like a camera, though the shape is far too small and thin. She lowers it, considering, and then from yet another box digs out a string of Christmas lights and hangs them up above the bed.

“It’s June,” I say, dumbfounded.

I look at the string of lights and put pressure on one of the bulbs until it bursts. She jumps, but the moment passes. She spends the bulk of the evening fussing with her camera-thing until she falls asleep.

Fine. If she wants to play hardball, I’ll play hardball.

In the morning, the interloper’s camera-thing plays a tune to rouse her. Her waking is both a curse and a blessing, for while I was glad to be free of her active meddling, even as she slept I was never able to completely ignore her presence. I feel her like an itch, like a stubborn pimple forming beneath my skin, and I’m glad to sense her rising if only because it means I can get back to business sooner rather than later.

The water heater and other facilities are still in good condition from the last unfortunate newcomers I drove from my doorstep, which frees her to take a long shower, singing obnoxiously all the while. This, however, is a perfect opportunity for me. When the heat from the shower fogs the chipped bathroom mirror, I brandish my loathing like a pen and write her a message. Granted, precision isn’t my forte, so the words come out a little smeared and crooked, but still the intent is clear as can be.

LEAVE

Ann squints at the streaked mirror. “Love?”

“Are you really that stupid?”

She looks around but, seeing no one, shrugs it off again and starts to brush her teeth. When she ducks her head to spit, I quickly try again.

MINE

“Mina? Who’s Mina?”

I groan. Okay, perhaps a more symbolic approach. I will the mirror to shatter, but just then a loud knocking sounds and Ann runs off in a frenzy before she can see the long crack forming down the center.

“Door’s open!” She calls from the landing as she hurries to finish dressing with one hand and wrangle her hair into a towel with the other.

I try to hold it shut, but despite my efforts, the door is forced open and a parade of half a dozen handymen file into the entryway. As they start setting up, a burly towheaded man breaks from the pack and goes to meet Ann as she’s bounding down the stairs.

“Careful, careful. Don’t put your foot through anything before I’ve even had the chance to bill you.”

“Nick,” Ann says fondly. “If these stairs could handle me, Kim, and the fifty-pound mattress we lugged up there yesterday, I think they’re stable.”

“You gals didn’t have to do all that. I could’ve—“

“It’s fine,” she insists. “You’re helping me out enough as it is.”

“Yeah, well, we’re even for that whole thing at Kim’s wedding now.”

“More than even,” she agreed. “I know this was last minute. Dinner’s on me tonight. I’ll order enough pizza for the entire crew.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. You haven’t seen how much Seth can eat.”

Their easy banter disgusts me. Living people are all the same; wandering around with blind optimism or bemoaning every bad turn, blissfully unaware of how little it truly mattered. One wrong step with those tools of theirs and any one of them could be joining me among the shiftless dead. I don’t have any desire for that kind of company so I decide to wait until they’re done with their renovations before I risk trying to scare anyone again.

As it is they hardly need my help. Ann, it turns out, is more than just clueless, she’s a klutz. If that isn’t enough she insists on “helping” right up until she almost shoots herself in the foot with a nail gun. Nick warns her not to try it again but I don’t feel any anger from him. The crew are all familiar with one another and with her. They chat and toss around jokes between tasks; someone puts on music.

The feeling isn’t quite a tangible one, but then neither am I. It’s an energy I struggle to describe, something like wading in a river and being aware of a splash rippling from upstream. Compared to the sharp tang of fear I’m accustomed to, all this amicability is nauseatingly sweet.

Ann beams, and the high arches of her cheeks dimple and flush darkly, round as apples.

“What exactly do you have to be so happy about?” I hiss in her ear.

As much as I hate to admit it though, I can understand why someone like her moved so easily among the crowd. Even when she was getting underfoot, she’s a difficult person to condemn for it. How could anyone begrudge her excitement when it was so abundant? Or her love when it was so freely given?

Growing impatient with it all, I knock a toolbox off the top of a stepladder and send its contents scattering in all directions. It lands hard and the sounds of work, the music and the laughter, all come to an abrupt stop.

“What was that?” someone asks. A worker crouches down underneath the arch of the ladder to collect some of the scattered screws and I, with great satisfaction, tip the thing over on top of him. The damage is little, but it’s enough to get the entire crew good and spooked.

“I didn’t touch it,” the injured handyman insists as he nurses his bruises with an icepack. “It just collapsed.”

“Maybe this place is haunted,” another jokes, but her smile doesn’t quite cover her nervousness.

“Kim said the same thing,” Ann muses to herself. Nick looks at her and she startles, as if she hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud.

“I was wondering how you were able to afford this place, even with the damage.”

“Oh don’t start with all that black cat broken mirror stuff. You see bad omens in everything.”

“And you don’t see red flags until they’re waving right in the face. Not even then,” he accuses. Her guilty expression says there’s some truth to his words. “Tell me honestly, is this house haunted?”

“That’s silly. Of course not.”

“Then how do you explain what just happened?” I demand with frustration.

“Then how do you explain what just happened?” asks the injured worker.

“Thank you!”

Ann hums thoughtfully and looks up at my aged walls, my decrepit ceilings. “The realtor warned me there were rumors about this place. This house has survived fire, flood, and an attempted demolition; somehow nothing was ever able to destroy it, and every person who’s lived here had reported seeing strange things. Objects moving on their own, strange sounds at night.”

Nick leans forward in his seat. “And what did you say when they told you all that?”

“I told her it sounded perfect.”

He puts his head in his hands. “Ann. Mary-Ann Thorne. Tell me you did not buy an actual haunted house. When Kim told me you just up and bought a house on a whim I thought that was crazy enough but this…”

“I didn’t buy a haunted house,” she says. She stood up straight and spread her hands with a dramatic flourish. “I bought a survivor. Houses are like people. They have personalities, they have their own little quirks, their likes and dislikes. Old houses most of all. I could tell as soon as I walked into this place that… well that she had something special. I can’t explain it, I just felt so drawn to her.”

She places her hand on the wall and holds it there. If I were alive I think I would shiver.

“She’s been through a lot, but with some TLC she’s gonna sing, I can feel it.”

“That’s crazy,” Nick says, but she isn’t listening. Not to him. It’s almost as if… almost…

“Can you hear me?”

She doesn’t respond. Of course she doesn’t. I berate myself for even daring to expect something so deluded. However, her little speech seems to encourage the crew, or else they’ve just calmed down enough to put aside their reservations and get back to work.

Watching them I feel… strange. Even when my house had been lived in before I had never really felt so cared for. It’s all ridiculous of course, a blind act of charity sprung from some silly woman’s misguided and misdirected affection. While the workers patch holes and replace crumbling pieces, the interloper sweeps and scrubs, eager to do her part.

Evening falls, and Ann prepares to head into town to pick up dinner.

“The guy on the phone said they don’t deliver to this address for some reason,” she says. “Weird.”

“Why don’t I go,” offers Nick. “I’ve got the truck. There’s more room.”

“Okay,” she reluctantly agrees. “But I’m still buying, clear?”

“Crystal.” There’s a faint air of nervousness wafting from him, I think. I suspect he’s been hoping for an opportunity to get away from me for a while.

The rest of the crew seem mostly recovered from their brief brush with the supernatural. I intend to fix that.

I start by flickering the lights, another classic. Someone gets up stammering about checking the fuse box in the basement, but as he and Nick each go for the doors I slam them both at once, creating a nice echoing effect that rings all through the house.

“Try writing that off as the wind.”

“I got a better idea,” another someone offers up. “How about we all go into town for dinner? It’ll be nice to get out of— it’ll be nice to get out, let the dust settle here.”

“Come on, Ann,” Nick gestures. “We can swing by the bar after. It’ll be fun.”

She hesitates, a strange look on her face, and takes a step back. “You all go ahead. I’m not that hungry.”

“Ann.” He speaks more sternly now, looking something like an older brother with a neat wrinkle of worry taking up residence on his brow. “Come on.”

“I’m fine here, and you’re being silly. If you don’t believe me, bring me back something after you eat and you’ll see that I’m perfectly safe here alone.”

“But you’re not alone,” I whisper, for nobody’s benefit but my own. “What would you say, if you knew. If you really knew.”

“Besides, I’ve already spent the night here once. If something were going to happen, why didn’t it?” She pulls a smirk, puts her hands on her hips. “Maybe it’s just you guys my house doesn’t like.”

Nick huffs an almost-laugh and relents, not entirely satisfied but not looking to argue the point any longer. He tells her to call him right away if anything changes and then he leaves. The workers file out after him, the last of them gingerly shutting the door behind him, so as not to anger me.

“Why didn’t you go with them?” I ask her. My voice, such that it is, takes on a plaintive edge. Pitiful. I correct myself, refocus my aims. “You’ve had plenty of chances to run, and it’s only going to get worse from here on out. You know that, right? You’ve got to know this isn’t just some twenty-four-hour fever. You can’t get rid of me. It’s my house.”

She starts up the stairs. I follow. I have no other choice.

“Are you really this dense? How can you ignore the signs? How can you believe there’s anything here worth salvaging?"

She walks into the bathroom and stares into the cracked mirror.

“What are you doing now?” I complain. “Looking for answers? I couldn’t give them to you if I had them. Or are you just admiring your pretty reflection?” I stroke the mirror’s surface. “Must be nice, to be young and lively. If you leave now, you could have years and years of perfect ignorance, uninterrupted by those pesky reminders of death. You could have a life, and you’re wasting it.”

She touches her fingertips to the cool glass with a mystic look in her dark eyes.

“Mina?” she whispers.

“My name isn’t Mina.”

Or maybe it is. Might as well be, for all I know. I think I must’ve had a name once. Surely there was a word, a simple sound, some collection of syllables that meant I see you. Surely there had been someone to speak it and make it real in their mouth. But how should I know? And if such a person did exist, what does it matter now? I’m not a person anymore, I’m a thing that happened, a thing that’s happening still. I’m a box built to hold my history, filled up to the rafters with hurt and resentment. That’s as close as I get to living. If I could move independent of my dour walls like her, I think, I wouldn’t be wasting my time moldering in the darkness.

Ann shakes her head. “Silly. I’m being silly,” she tells herself. Looking up at the dim light fixed above her she adds, “I should probably check on that fuse box after all.”

She goes back down and opens the door to the basement. She flicks the switch on the wall a few times but that bulb's been long neglected. Even those who swear up and down they don’t fear the fables or superstition became suddenly shy when it comes to probing the deepest depths of this old house. Ann turns, presumably to seek out a flashlight, when her heel catches on one of the repairmen’s screws that had rolled loose. It’s not even my fault this time, technically.

Like some kind of morbid slapstick, her foot shoots out from under her and she stumbles backwards towards the open basement door. It’s a long drop that awaits her, followed by a fast end if she’s lucky. And I know well enough by now that she isn’t.

Without thinking, I push her. Instead of that foresworn drop down the basement stairs, Ann finds herself tripping backwards into the wall instead. She rights herself, takes in a sharp breath, and then releases it with a sigh. She’s dazed but unharmed. I find myself mirroring her relief.

She smiles. “Thank you,” she says.

Then she closes the door and walks away.

That has never happened to me before. Normally, to manifest, to have any direct impact on the physical world, I have to summon up a great deal of anger. That isn’t too hard for me; I’ve been angry a long time. But in that moment, I hadn’t been angry. I think I’d been afraid. For her safety? No, of course not. More likely I’d been worried she would leave behind a ghost and I’d be stuck with her invading my personal space for eternity. Still, I’d never… never done anything like that before. I’d never helped somebody. I suppose I’d assumed it couldn’t be done, even if I wanted to. Ghosts, spirits, malevolent spectral entities or whatever you like to call it, that’s not what we're for. That wasn’t what I did, until I did it.

I become aware of singing coming from the kitchen. The fool is never not singing or humming or whistling something. I know music; it’s not as if I’m totally uncultured. While I have no lungs nor lips to make sound, sometimes on a stormy night the wind whistles through my walls, each creak and moan playing for me the orchestra of slow degradation I’ve come to know well.

This is not that. This is… I don’t know what to do with this. I don’t know the words. Is it too late, I wonder. I can’t. I’m not ready. Oh but if you can give me time, stranger, I think I want to learn your song too.

#my writing #short story #ghosts #haunted house #paranormal romance #lgbt #horror romance #4k words #first person #original fiction

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my-proof-is-you · 4 years

Text

Con - Part 3

Summary: You’d been on the run most of your life--running from your memories, a past you didn’t want to remember, and your own loneliness. You did what you had to do to get by.

You know what they say, though: you can’t con a con man.

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warnings: flirting, canon-typical violence, swearing, fluff, eventual smut

A/N: I’m bringing it out of hiatus! I hope you all enjoy :)

*I do not own any pics or gifs

Masterlist | Tag Yourself!

You couldn’t believe you’d had phone sex with a complete stranger.

There was just something about him, though.

Dean.

His name gave you goosebumps as you remembered his gravelly voice from the night before.

You wished for the tenth time that you’d actually been able to spend a night with him in person. Instead, you picked up your phone, eager to keep some kind of connection with the mystery man.

Y: Thank you for last night.

D: Anytime, sweetheart.

Y: So, where do you and your handsome partner find yourselves on this lovely day?

D: In Tucson on another hunt.

Y: What, you get paid the big bucks for some deer meat there or something?

D: Actually it’s...never mind.

Y: What?!

D: Seriously, you’d think I’m crazy

Y: Psh, what’s an embarrassing admission between strangers?

D: Fine. My brother and I hunt...monsters.

You stared at your screen. The musky motel around you faded as your eyes zeroed in on his words.

Monsters.

You didn’t respond, still too shocked to form a coherent thought.

D: See? I knew you’d think I’m crazy.

You snapped back into focus, reading his message when your phone vibration brought your attention back.

Y: You’re just fucking with me, right?

D: If only, sweetheart.

You sat for a moment again, memories of your nightmare from the night before flooding your mind.

D: I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore. But trust me, monsters are real. And they’re out there.

You couldn’t believe you were about to confide your biggest secret to a stranger. The secret that you thought made you an insane person. The secret you’d never told anyone for fear of being institutionalized.

Y: No, I don’t think you’re crazy or anything I just…

D: ...yes?

You took a deep breath before sending your next message. You were afraid that if you saw your words staring back at you, you’d actually lose it. You’d know you were insane.

Y: I think a monster is what killed my family.

Your phone rang shrilly in your hand and you weren’t sure if you wanted to pick it up. Maybe Dean was just a psycho. Maybe he would just feed into your stress-induced vision of a monster killing your parents and sister. A vision you’d long since come to accept as your own mind playing tricks on you.

You picked up the phone, though. What did you have to lose at this point?

You didn’t utter a greeting, just held your breath until his low voice met your ears.

“What happened to your family, Y/N?”

“Th-They...they…”

“What?” he asked, almost whispering.

“There was so much blood,” you said, your hands shaking. “I didn’t know what was happening--all I could see was red…”

“Y/N, where are you?” he asked.

“I’m in Albuquerque,” you whispered, your mind still reeling.

“Okay. Just...just stay put, okay? Sam and I can be there in six hours. We can talk about this in person.”

You nodded, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. “Thank you,” you breathed.

“See you soon, sweetheart,” he said, hanging up.

That afternoon, you sat gripping a rapidly-cooling cup of coffee in a greasy-smelling diner. Your mind had been blank since you hung up with Dean the first time. The only coherent thought you’d had was to tell him where to meet you when he and his brother got closer to Albuquerque.

Reliving the worst night of your life had sucked the energy out of you. The stale cup of caffeine in front of you did little to your energy levels. You stared into the light brown liquid, not really seeing anything.

Dean’s voice made you jump, and you realized he and his brother had slid into the booth across from you without you even noticing.

“Hey there, Y/E/C eyes,” he said. God, you loved his voice.

“FBI,” you returned with a half-smile. “And this must be your partner-in-crime, Agent Mulder,” you said, gesturing to his brother.

Dean looked offended. “That would make me Scully. I’m not a chick! Besides, he’s the one with long hair!”

His brother rolled his eyes, extending his hand. You took it, noticing how truly large it was. “Sam,” he said with a smile.

“Y/N. I don’t know if he told you, but I robbed Scully here the first night we met. Sorry,” you said with a shrug.

He smiled. “Not like we came by it honestly anyway.”

You liked Sam already. He was easy to talk to, and he seemed really genuine.

The touch of calloused fingers against your hand brought your attention back to Dean. He looked at you earnestly, clearly ready to get down to business.

You sighed. “Dean...I don’t even know where to start,” you said.

“Just tell us what you remember,” he said, stroking his thumb along your knuckle. His green eyes made you melt a little and you nodded.

“I was fifteen,” you began. Your mind’s eye traveled back to that night. You could remember the house you grew up in with vivid detail; every room, every corner, every piece of furniture was burned into your brain.

The memories were tainted, though. Perfect white doilies your mom had made flecked with blood; your sister’s lifeless eyes, staring at you from the hardwood floor of the room you shared; your dad’s favorite chair where he then sat ripped to shreds.

“I didn’t even know what was happening. It was like I was in some sort of shock. I heard my parents scream from the living room. My older sister told me to hide. We had an extra little space in the back of our closet that was small enough to crawl into. She made me go in and close the door. I kept it cracked, though. She hid in the main part of the closet and it found her.”

The men watched you recount your story, neither saying anything. They listened intently, though, and it gave you the strength to go on knowing that they didn’t think you were insane.

“I saw it grab her through the crack. I’ll never forget her scream. The thought of it still sends shivers down my spine.” You felt the goosebumps raise on your arms like they always did when you thought about that horrible scream.

“I watched from that spot, unable to move. I was so scared. Everything in me told me to go and help her, but I couldn’t. I could barely breathe, I was so scared. After about an hour, when I knew it was gone, I finally crawled out of there.”

“They were all dead. They had been ripped apart...their hearts were gone...and I was alone.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Sam said, reaching across the table to lay a comforting hand on your arm. You hadn’t realized that tears were streaming down your face until that moment. You had never told anyone what happened to your family—never even said the words out loud.

“Y/N, you said you saw it a little through the crack in the door...do you remember anything about what it physically looked like?” Dean asked.

You wiped your face with the backs of your hands and let your memory conjure up one of the scariest things you’d ever seen.

“It was a man, but with really scary features. His eyes were yellow, like an animal. He had fangs and long claws.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other silently and nodded. Your eyes danced between them, unsure of what they were thinking.

“What? Do you know what it was?” you asked, genuinely excited for the first time in a long time.

“Yes,” Sam said, his eyes serious.

“Well?” you asked, becoming impatient.

“It was a werewolf,” Dean stated.

You let that sink in for a moment, your mind replaying the word, “werewolf” over and over.

Then, you burst into an all-consuming laughter.

Forevers:

@malfoysqueen14 @divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @infj-slytherclaw @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @differentstudentrunaway-e70bf763 @hoboal87 @bi-danvers0 @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @fabfan00 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @olyamoriarty @satans-0-spawn @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester

Deanies/Jensen:

@tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @akshi8278 @weepingwillowphoenix @playingdeep17 @justanotherwinchester @flamencodiva @caligraphee @emma.penberthy.11 @jxackles @kalesrebellion @heavensangel45135 @screechingartisancashbailiff @miufel @squirrelnotsam

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canyongmc28 · 4 years

Text

This is a place for me to come to, to get shit off my mind. Things that have been absorbing in my head. Fantasies, thoughts, things that turn me on. Things that I would NEVER do in the real.

I am married. I have 2 beautiful boys and I love my family very much. Though my wife is NOT very sexually active. She is extremely hot in my book. She isn't sex talkative. She doesn't like bringing it up. Gets uncomfortable at times. And I'm the complete opposite 🤣.

I love talking about sex. Even in the most nastiest of ways... Like kinky, orgasmic, fun, different, etc. Like anal, for instance.

I am pansexual. Meaning I love and respect everyone for whom they desire or call themselves. Race, sex, origin, w.e. I'm not judgemental. She isn't into anal. Like at all.

Now I can eat the booty like groceries 😋. But I can't get my dick up inside of her. But my tongue can go as far as she will let me. Or my fingers (Fingers, only being 1).

I love giving and receiving anal. It feels amazing. But I have never had a real dick inside of me. always wanted to try it. I'm sure it feel way better than a dildo or toy. But, I can never get her to talk about tryin anything new. She's traditional in a way. But she is bi. And always wants to do something with another woman. But as soon as I bring up the topic, it all of a sudden becomes cheating???? Like TF??? How the hell does that make any Sense?

So, ur telling me. That it's ok for u to bring up wanting to try something different with another woman in our relationship. But me as the pan man 😂🤣 I can't. How the fuck????

Explain!

Please lol.

My wife and I were both born on the same month, same day, down to the same year. Even better, I was born 7 hours before she was. That's rare asf. We r both Capricorns. But I don't feel like I'm my sign. I act way differently then my sign. I act more like all of them in a way lol.

Off topic sorry. Already start drink 😅😭🤣🤣🤣🤣 💩🤦🤦🤦🤦

Ik, ik.... What is wrong with me? I'm married to a hot ass woman and she's not even in any kind of way like me lol... But we like and dislike alot of the same things. There r se things that r different from each other. But only very few things.

We r both about to be 29 in 3 months. Crazy how the time flies these days.

Our kids r about to be closer and closer to becoming preteens. So we feel much older then we r lol.

Again, off topic LMFAO 😂.

I'm extremely sexually active 😜. I love sex in all kinds of ways. Just NOT into BDSM, bondage. Or any other weird kinks alot of ppl r into.... I'm different and sensitive. But I claim myself to be a femboi/trap/trans. I have been thinking about goin through transition for a while now. But everytime I want to talk to my wife about it. She isn't ready for me to talk about it. It's not u, it's me. So why r u not ready for me to talk about something???? That make no freaking sense.....

Can anyone help me out here???

What am I doing wrong here? Is there any pointers I can get so that I may change something or the way I'm goin about this....

Now don't get me wrong. My wife and I r very hard workers. She works as an assistant manager at a pretty Kool restaurant. And I work 2 to 3 jobs. I do landscaping, construction, and mechanical work on the side. But between work and everything... There is little time to spend with each other. And it's like bruh.... I just want to spend time with my wife. And the thing so want to go and do, I can't without her. Because I want her to be there with me when I do them. So that she can witness it with me. To have that experience.

I'm a big teddy bear. Not that I'm a big guy lol. I'm not. I'm only 195 lbs. I've lost a shit load of weight in the past 2 years. I used to be 237lbs. So I'm doin good. But I still have that tummy. Which btw I fuckin hate.

I'm struggling here and need someone to talk to that isn't goin to point me in the wrong direction or judge me for me. I'm a really nice guy and it's extremely hard to find ppl like me in this fucked up world we live in. I love helping ppl in any ways that I can.

Alot of ppl judge me because I have no teeth. I have gingivitis. I was born with it. It means (only for those of u outtthere that don't know what it means) my gums and teeth naturally fall out of my mouth and brushing them only makes it worse, mouth wash makes them bleed uncontrollably. I have been to the dentist and they all have told me it's gunna take alot of work and time to fix my teeth and make them look and feel like teeth again. So in other words.... If I don't come up with $125,000 In the next 2 to 3 years. My teeth will remain like this till I die.... Wonderful.

Guys/girls/trans everything.....

😭😭😭😭 I hate not having teeth and as a grown ass man it tears me up about not having teeth. Like the other day I finally got to take my wife out on a date. It's been 3 years since we were even able to do that. I got something I haven't had in a while. It was mostly soft. We were talking and laughing. It's been a while for that too. I love seeing the look on her face when she laughs. It's beautiful.

But I bit down on my food and I felt something snap.

I was instantly like oh no.... What now.... Crossing my fingers I was hoping it was just part of the food. Praying to everything in me that it wasn't my tooth...

I spit all my food out and started to dig through my half chewed up food and feeling around with my tongue in my mouth what tooth it may have been. Then I found it.

I started to tear up and cry a bit. U have no idea how much it hurts to not be able to smile because I have no teeth. Or ur teeth r rotting out. And it makes u look like a crack head. Dude.... I'm a fuckin pothead. I have never in my fuckin life ever done anything but smoke fuckin weed and my teeth look like I'm an overdosing crackhead.

Do uk what that's like???? My wife is the only person I have ever met that doesn't judge me for not having teeth. She just looks at me, rubs my back and says maybe we should go. And being me, I'm like no it's ok. As ppl around me stare like what is wrong with him....

And me bek g the guy I am when I am hurting inside... Look over and go "WHAT??? HAVE U NEVER SEEN A GROWN MAN CRY BEFORE?". And they look away in such disgust.

Dude, this shit sucks.

Of topic in a way.

She is absolutely amazing. Idk what I would do without her. And I'm sorry for those of u out there that recently lost someone like my wife. Only u, understand what it's like to truly love someone as unconditional as I do for my wife.

And I feel u on so many levels.

She is one of a kind. As I am as well.

But, there r some things we still need working on. All relationships r not perfect. And mine is by far from perfect. Is not. And that's ok. I don't want perfect. I want different. But at the same time I want to be heard, just as much as she does.

If anyone has some advice, please feel free to message me.

So just so everyone is aware of my post.

I post things that I fantasize about on a daily. Things that I DO NOT ACT OUT ON. Things that just make me think. I have never done some of the thing I have posted on here. But I would love to try some.

My turn on r (for those of u out there that want to send me anything that I might like):

I love live videos of sex in any way. Real pictures of sex in any way. Anyone who wants to know more send me a message. I will get in depth.

Another thing I have been dying to try is having ppl send me money to send them videos or short clips of me riding my dildo or in my panties.

I do need some new friends who r into some fun stuff. I love public sex. Getting caught is the fun part. Gangbangs r a turn on. Orgies, parties, drugs, alcohol, school porn, I'm not into anything hairy. (No hairy dicks, or pussy pics) I like dog sex. Horse sex. Old and young. Gay. Twink. Shemales. Tranny's. Ladyboy's. Femboys. Traps. Sissies. Transgender. Toys. Dildos. Any positions. Drunk. Stranger. Public stranger. Police. Hospital. Ghetto. Teens. Kids. Underage. Anime. Hentia. Comics. Cosplay. Driving. Hitchhiker. Abduction. Kidnapped. Ransom. Random. Creampied. Cum swapping. Facials. Bukkake. Anal. Blowjob's. Handjobs. I'm not into feet. But, I'll try anything once. Cum covered. Public cum blasting. Fingering. Rimjobs. Ass to mouth. Masturbating. Parents. Cheating. Father daughter. Father son. Mother daughter. Mother son. Family. Incest. Pool. Tied up. Dungeon. Rape. And anything else u might think I like. Some of these I would love to try. Any videos of these help. I'm also a huge fun of black girls and boys. Big dicks. Pyt. Omegle. Vichatter, etc. Homemade. Anything illegal. Send me a message with w.e. u want. Hell. I'll even take links if u have those. Something that isn't going to give me a virus on my phone or computer. And get me any to prison. Last time I did that. I almost went to jail for murder cuz it was a friend of mine and he tried to set me up. I'm not ok with that.

It's hard enough not being able to talk about this shit with anyone. Cuz ur afraid they will think ur a pedo or something.

Fantasy. Those r the ones who need dick the most.

Thank u guys. Love u all. Hope to hear from u soon.

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omgilostmyshoe · 5 years

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Sabriel Week 2019. Day Six: Neighbours/Roommates

Waiting for Superman

(title from the song by Daughtry)

Rating: T

Pairing: Sabriel

Wordcount: 2028

Tags and Warnings: Human AU, K9 Unit Officer Sam Winchester, Author Gabriel, Aromantic Gabriel, Tooth-rotting fluff.

@sabrielevents

What to do when you find a stranger in your hallway, trying to get to the neighbor that is no longer there? You can try giving some advice on the cheap hotels nearby or just ignore him. Sam, however, is the officer of the law and cannot just let the man vanish into the night. Especially, such a cute man. So, he might as well offer him to stay until morning... Or until death does them apart.

"Police, freeze! Hands where I can see them!"

Sam reacts instinctively when he finds a stranger, trying to get into his neighbor's closed door.

The man in question freezes, following the commands, even though all Sam has is the dog on a leash. Which is actually quite a lot, considering that said dog is a trained police animal.

"Turn around and identify yourself!"

Again, the man complies instantly, his face changing from slightly concerned to surprised, when he sees the one who was giving out the orders. Sam knows that out of the uniform, without his badge or a gun, all of which are in the apartment, he can't really prove that he's a cop.

But he stands his ground, just as the dog at his side also stared down a possible foe.

"I'm Gabriel Novak. Just flew in, planned to crash in with my girlfriend, Ro. She lives there." The man still doesn't lower his arms, just points with one finger at the door he was fiddling with. "But it seems nobody is home..."

"She moved out. About a week ago. Said she's moving to Europe or something. And please, lower your arms... You can relax."

The more Sam talks, the more Gabriel face falls. He's handsome, but visibly tired, the dust of the road and lightning of the hall accentuating the lines of his face.

While wondering, what to do, Sam automatically pats the dog at his side, who relaxed as his owner does.

His neighbor was rather adventurous, her apartment always filled with new people, men and women alike. She loved to talk, but never would confess her own name. Her favorite subject of gossip though, when she managed to catch Sam, were her numerous lovers.

Mostly it was in some odd hours of the night, when after the double shift or an emergency, Sam was returning after a dog walk. The woman would glide out of her apartment--her gait couldn't be described any other way--and just start talking.

So this is how he knows, sort of, who the man before him is.

He was one of her more or less steady flames, Gabe, as she called him. Author of some books or something, always on the move, always traveling. Which is why their meetings were very few and far in between, but so hot she could not help herself but to "keep him," as she put it. Except now he wanted something more permanent, settling in New York for at least a year, and in the last conversation, Ro was lamenting how, "Gabe was getting clingy".

Apparently, her way of saying goodbye to clingy lovers was to move to the other side of the world without warning. Or anything.

"So... What's his name?"

Gabriel is the first to break the awkward silence, watching the dog at Sam's feet with a weak smile.

"Dogmeat." Sam grits out, readying himself for a joke, that he heard plenty, but Gabriel surprises him. He only lightly laughs and nods, winking at the animal.

"Good choice, and very good look alike. Though I certainly would like your version better if I could pet him."

It seems surprises would never cease today, as Dogmeat does the maximum his ironclad training allows. He quietly whines and tugs at the leash lightly, indicating that he would very much like to be petted by Gabriel. With a cautious stare, Sam hesitates, looking from the German shepherd to Gabriel again.

"So, no problems with dogs?"

"Is loving them too much counts as a problem?"

Sam chuckles and releases the dog, giving a freeing command. Dogmeat runs like a torpedo, paws scrambling on the slippery tile floor.

His furry body collides with Gabriel legs and the dog whines and wags his tail happily as the man immediately starts petting him.

Soon, Dogmeat is on the floor, all four legs up, his belly exposed for the expert rubs that Gabriel bestows, and Sam is left just to stare in amazement.

Even though his dog's reactions are the perfect judge of character already he, after getting permission, still snaps a pic of Gabriel, focusing on his face. The man probably thinks it's for a cute moment with the dog--which it is, partially--but Sam also sends the pic to Jody, asking to run an urgent background check and attaches a name.

In the meantime, Dogmeat having gotten plenty of belly rubs now stands and starts licking all over Gabriel's face, neck and even his hair.

Sam just got to save the poor man, a quiet call of dog's name enough to stop the shower of slobbery affections, and Gabriel nods gratefully.

He wisely doesn't speak before getting a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his face of the worst of the damage.

"He likes you," Sam announces, perhaps a bit unnecessary, after the clear approval his dog shown this man.

"Well, at least somebody does, that's good."

He jokes, and smiles again, but Sam can see the exhaustion that weighs on him, and it's probably not all physical. Going to somebody you care about, expecting to find at least a place to rest and a friendly face, and finding only the closed door... That must be harsh.

"You don't seem so bad to me either," Sam gives up, smirking, and finally this gets his a more genuine and energetic response. He likes as Gabriel's face morphs and he smirks in return, winking again, now to Sam, which is just as effective as it was on his dog. He can’t say he’s ready to drop on all fours before the man just yet, but it’s a pretty close call.

"Which is why I'm gonna do you a favor."

"Oh?"

As Sam finally goes to unlock his door, Dogmeat glued to his side in the familiar formation, Gabriel tenses. Sam notices but does not comment, just gestures to the couple of suitcases, that are tucked in the corner of the hall.

"You need a place to stay the night, at least. As an officer of the law, I can't in good conscience simply leave you out in the cold at,” He checks his watch, “4 am." He then opens the door and ushers the dog inside, who promptly lays down at her appointed spot, waiting for the wash and feeding.

"So, you actually are a cop? Can I see the badge?"

A curious tilt of the head cannot hide a guarded stare Gabriel levels him with.

"Sure," that request is easy and actually sensible, making Sam like the man more and more, and with just a half a minute rummaging in the apartment, he shows off his credentials to Gabriel. Who hasn't moved much, though Sam noticed he and his suitcases had shifted a little closer to the exit, ready to bolt if needed with minimum casualties.

Sam smiles approvingly, wishing every citizen would be as vigilant and careful with their life and health. Perhaps then he wouldn't need to work as much.

On the other hand, that way, he might have not caught this late shift.

He might not have met Gabriel.

Who finally surrenders and rolls the suitcases in, while accessing Sam's home with a curious glance.

Dogmeat wags his tail happily from his spot, watching two people interact, talk, and touch.

It's just a random connection, as Sam helps Gabriel to shrug off the tangled coat.

But as Gabriel lifts his amber eyes, hand not moving from Sam's bare forearms, sending a wave of goosebumps from the contact, he speaks, low and serious.

"Thank you, Superman."

"You're welcome... What?"

And then Gabriel breaks out in a fit of giggles, breaking the moment and the contact, pointing at Sam's shirt, that does bear the symbol of the aforementioned superhero.

"You still haven't told me your name."

Sam blushes, running a hand through his hair and huffing and embarrassed laugh himself.

"Sorry. Sam Winchester. It's nice to meet you."

They shake hands, and there it is again.

Eye contact, catching, getting a lot longer than necessary, and Sam feels as his palm is enveloped in both of Gabriel's hands now, warm and dry.

"It truly is."

Sam turns in the bed, trying to escape the sun shining through the crack in the curtains.

As soon as he settles back into the warm cocoon of blankets and pillows and blessed darkness however, there is a broad wet tongue on his face, licking him thoroughly.

"Gabe, leave me alone. Day offff..." Sam mumbled, half asleep, hiding his face below his arms, shoving the loving attention away. Because really, he was promised a good rest tonight with as much sleep as he could handle.

"Wow, now I feel really offended, you can't even tell the difference between us."

Mocking remark sounds from the foot of the bed, definitely not from anywhere near his head, and Sam jumps up, eyes bleary, and trying to kick his brain into working mode.

He relaxes, finding Gabriel, not on the bed, only standing near, a tray laden with dishes in his hands.

The check of the bed reveals a bouncy Dogmeat, who's blinking happily at Sam.

"Off the bed! Now!"

The dog scatters off, properly shamed. For the moment, at least, until Gabe finds another way to sneak some treats to him or something.

Gabriel stalks closer, settling a tray across Sam's knees above the blanket. It is barely able to fit all the mugs, plates and saucers stacked onto it, all filled with delicious foods, and two main dishes even covered with fancy metallic domes.

"What's the occasion, Gabe? This seems like a lot."

He knows the answer, but he just likes to hear it. So he asks.

"Well, today

the day. It has been whole three years since we became roommates." Gabriel announces dramatically, even finishing off with a flashy shake of his hair, that got a lot longer, brown curls reaching his shoulders now.

"Seriously? Roommates? That's what you're going with?"

It is hard to keep a straight face while Gabriel does his thing, pouting and staring imploringly.

"Roommates with benefits?" Under Sam's raising his brows, unimpressed, and him fighting a smile, that probably got his face in a strange twitching grimace, Gabe gives up.

"Okay, okay. Three years anniversary, my lovely boyfriend Superman. I'm happy you're still with me, and, as astounding that is, still love me."

Sam ignores the pet name, that of course stuck--Dean laughed his ass off at that one--and pulls his boyfriend into a grateful kiss.

After a tender and long moment they separate, barely, Gabe smiling softly. Sam though, he looks into the amber eyes deeply, not searching or waiting for anything. He is long made his peace with how they are.

"Always. Happy anniversary."

The next kiss is longer, lingering, Sam clutching onto Gabe's thin shirt to tug him closer. They stop only when the tray clangs alarmingly, and both giggle before moving everything around.

Gabe slides under the blanket, cuddling to Sam's side and--dramatic as ever--reveals the first dish, lifting the dome covering.

The plate is practically drowning in maple syrup that drips from the impressive stack of fresh pancakes.

"That's... very sweet," Mumbles Sam, eyeing the stack.

"Indeed it is, which is exactly why I cooked it for myself. Yours is this one, my favorite health nut."

And with a loud smooch to the cheek, Gabe lifts the dome from the second plate, this one with totally different contents. A bowl with oatmeal--egg, steamed vegetables, and a little cheese on top--front and center, its aroma and sight mouthwatering. It is surrounded by different kinds of toasts: avocado, more vegetables, fresh this time, mixed in with Sam's favorite Italian cheeses.

"Thank you, Gabe... This is perfect."

It really is, the tray filled with both of their favorite items, lovingly prepared and carefully arranged. Gabe waves off the gratitude, but his smile says it all.

Before digging into the feast, Sam steals another thorough kiss from his boyfriend, deep and passionate.

They even actually manage to eat before falling into bed to satisfy a different hunger and between more kisses, Sam whispers, again and again,

"You are perfect. I love you."

#sabrielweek2019 #my writing #Sabriel fic #fluff #so much fluff #Human AU #Aromantic Gabriel

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crayrate-blog · 5 years

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Reverse Lookup CA

Web dating has turned into a very well known approach to meet individuals, and has in reality brought a ton of forlorn people together. In any case, only one out of every odd date turns out like an eHarmony promotion. So in recognition of Valentine's Day, we counseled perusers, companions, a couple of specialists, and various destinations (quite Craigslist Personals) to accumulate the most entertaining, weirdest, and most horrendous web based dating stories we could discover. Desolate individuals, broken hearts, false cases, dashed desires, doctored photographs, bailouts, and no-shows– it's everything part of the internet dating knowledge, and we uncovered a tad bit of everything.

"Beth" from Portland, Oregon, posted this note at a web based dating website:

Web based dating can deliver a portion of the most noticeably awful dates ever. The last person I went out with brought a sock puppet– a sock puppet– on our date and attempted to converse with me with it. To be charming, I think. Be that as it may, it cracked me out. Truly. Perhaps I'm out-dated, however no sock manikins, please.The old mid-date vanishing act has taken on an entirely different utility in the period of Internet dating. Display An originates from "Jill" in the San Francisco Bay Area, who posted the accompanying on Craigslist:

I get an advertisement from a person generally my age who has a hot bicycle, and a few pics demonstrating he's genuinely appealing. We email forward and backward a bit, he says he's certainly searching for a similar thing, lastly we consent to meet at a bistro. The main thing I perceived was the bicycle. He took after his pics the manner in which Stuart Little looks like Mickey Mouse. His teeth were dark, totally sickening, and he had a blister adjacent to one side eye. He must be 10 to 15 years more seasoned than me… . That, yet I got the unmistakable impression that he by and by knew where a couple of bodies were covered.

I couldn't resist. I expanded. At that point I couldn't take a gander at him by any means. I flipped the pages of the magazine I had gotten instance of absent and looked at him occasionally, considering how the [expletive removed] was I going to remove myself from this. So he says he will get an espresso. Also, heads inside. That was his first oversight. Leaving my espresso and magazine, and scarcely setting aside effort to grab up my satchel, I put my mobile phone to my ear like I had recently gotten a crisis call and truly pulled ass down the road to my vehicle before he returned out. Karma says I am going to pay for that. Fine.

Caroline Presno, dating master and creator of Profiling Your Date: A Smart Woman's Guide to Evaluating a Man, says online daters are now and then seen as powerless to meet individuals as it was done in the good 'ol days, as are some way or another "harmed merchandise." She relates this model:

An alluring, 30-year-old female instructor was truly anticipating her first gathering with a lawyer she had been messaging for some time. Be that as it may, on the date, before the server even brought the water, the person stated, "So how about we get down to it, what's up with you?"Jayne Hitchcock, Reverse Lookup CA a cybercrime master from York, Maine, reveals to us she's currently connected with to a kindred she met on True.com while doing research for her book, Net Crimes and Misdemeanors. Be that as it may, she says, she needed to kiss a couple of frogs before at last discovering her ruler.

On some internet dating locales, Hitchcock says, if a part needs to express fascination for another part in the wake of perusing their profile, yet without heading off to the outrageous of sending them an email, they can send an electronic "wink." "I was immersed with winks and messages in my True inbox," Hitchcock says. "I am dead serious when I state 'immersed.' Over 2000 individuals saw my profile. Of those, at any rate half were winks." Usually, however, what the winks really mean is: "I saw your image and I believe you're hot, yet I'm too apathetic to even think about reading your profile and it costs me nothing to simply give you a wink in case you think my thinning up top head is hot, or that no doubt about it."

You'd figure the obscurity of online communication would make it simpler for folks to put on a show of being smooth and in charge. Be that as it may, the inverse is frequently the situation. That equivalent namelessness appears to give a few men a permit to be impolite degenerates. "One person came directly out in the headline of his message and let me realize he needed to meet me and do 'awful things' to me," Hitchcock reports. "Another guaranteed he was a genuine cowhand in New Mexico and needed to have intercourse with me without any protection on his pony. Oy."

From Russia With LoveLoneliness can be abused, as some desolate hearts in the United States have discovered. The Web website of the U.S. international safe haven in Moscow has some a word of wisdom for Americans who think they've met their online match in Russia, and keep running into inconvenience. From the Q&A page, here are two of the issues that can manifest in such intercontinental sentiments.

The individual I'm writing to says that s/he needs $1,000.00 to appear for "stash cash" or the carrier won't let him/her get onto the plane. Is this valid?

(The Embassy reacts that this minx from Minsk isn't required to "appear" one penny to travel.)

I think I have been misled. I have sent this individual $2,000.00 and now I discover his/her visa is a phony. How would I recover my cash?

("Intense ****," the Embassy answers, essentially.)

For some long-lasting Internet daters, the names, actualities, faces, and interests of responders to their profiles start to run together. What's more, the constrained innovativeness of many dating-site individuals doesn't improve the situation. "John" from Chicago posted this "Open Letter to Match.com Girls":

Stop. Simply stop. You're irritating me. Above all else, your screen name. Quit placing "cheeky" into your screen name. Quit placing "citygirl" into your screen name. While enlisting, in the event that you endeavored to utilize "cubfan" as your screen name and it returned revealing to you that you'd need to make due with "cubfan57836," that ought to have been your first piece of information that you have picked a disgustingly predictable name. You are not sufficiently astute to consider something great, along these lines you ought not hope to be combined with somebody who is. Talking about Cub fans, quit saying you adore sports and that you "demonstration simply like a guy."And the equivalent is valid for the men. From Jayne Hitchcock: "I began to trim the rundown somewhere near erasing those with eyebrow-raising or out and out tragic screen names, for example, minor departure from 'loverboy,' 'mr. sentimental,' 'desolate person,' 'forlorn one,' 'kiss me,' 'genuine romance MD,' 'huggy bear,' 'party man,' 'hot upndown,' etc.– I am not making these up– and titles, for example, 'Hello there Beautiful,' 'Goodness!' 'Greetings Baby Pretty,' 'Hi, cutie,' and 'Me wink; you answer.'"

The Onion's Online Dating Tips offer this recommendation: Set yourself separated by picking an enlightening client name like SocialRetard342, CuteFaceFatAss, or RohypnolLarry.

"Sarah" from New York likewise come down her online dates to a couple of particular sorts. Here's one from her Craigslist post:

No. 6: Mr. EZ-Pass (Key Phrase: "I'm only a bounce, skip, and a hop far from New York City.") He persuaded me that the separation would not be an issue, that he went to the city regularly, so I said OK with certain reservations. Getting together for date #1 was an Act of Congress; he continued endlessly about the train plans. At that point he counterbalanced on date #2. He persuaded that he lived somewhere close in Jersey like Hoboken; turns out he was in Jersey okay… the piece of Jersey that is close to the Pennsylvania border.People all things considered, sizes, and financial foundations are searching for adoration on the web. Here's a post-date story from "mysterious" at Internetdatingtales.com:

I am 40 to 50 pounds overweight, yet I spoke the truth about it. This man was 5-feet-9 and said something most likely around 300 pounds. Be that as it may, alright, my concept of a bit [overweight] and his concept of a bit may fluctuate. So I wave at him and over he comes. I felt awful that I had sat outside, in light of the fact that despite the fact that it was a gentle day and there was an umbrella, he was before long perspiring like a jackass. Furthermore, the appeal, mind, and silliness he had on the telephone was … gone.

He muttered and squirmed, however continued seeing me like I was a glass of water and he was on the last part of a long stroll through the desert. So I did it. I am so embarrassed about myself, however all things considered, what else would I be able to do? I was certain each other arranged meeting had briskly dumped him. What's more, I realized he was a decent person, just not the person for me. I purposely embarked to sicken him. I began to chuckle excessively uproarious at the unfunny things he said. And after that, and I can scarcely type this, I really put my deliver my armpit, hauled it out, and sniffed it.

Shouldn't something be said about me? Here's my own (really my just) fascinating internet dating background. I was in school. In another city, Chicago, desolate, and cold. Her name was Bonnie, and her image on Nerve.com looked charming, even dainty. After a couple of talkative email notes, we set up a gathering at an elitist lager joint in Lincoln Park. I arrived first, sat at the bar, and requested a lager. Those minutes prior to your date shows up are priceless– my brain begun hustling a bit, I could nearly hear a low drum roll. Furthermore, there she was– she strolled in, sat down, requested a brew. The tattoo on her neck wasn't noticeable in her online picture. She looked somewhat unpleasant around the edges, Bonnie did. Intense, really. She was about my tallness or somewhat taller, and she was built– and I don't mean implicit a girly way, I mean she appeared as though she could seat press about twice my weight.

She requested another brew. What's more, one more and again. Her cool, disconnected mentality before long turned riotous and forceful. She lapped me a few times brew astute, and didn't appear to see, while peppering me with inquiries concerning past connections.

After around a hour I'd seen and sufficiently heard. When I easily asked off, asserting an investigation assemble meeting, she just took a gander at me blankly– at that point, I thought, a little menacingly. "Gracious, so you will get up and leave now, huh," she said.

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plaidstiel-wormstache · 7 years

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Surprises

AN: This one is for @dancingalone21‘s Lau’s Summer Challenge, sorry for being a week late. But as promised, I’m posting today! Thank you to @notnaturalanahi for reading over it and reassuring me it wasn’t too much or too little. No hate to Gen and the boys, I do truly love them, but for our imaginations, lets say this happened in a parallel universe. Warnings: fluff, pics (trust me it is a warning), crack and maybe a tiny bit of flangst?, but this IS a SFW piece. RPF, but this Jared can be read as Sam. And just a heads up, there s private note from me to you at the end of this and that’s personal and angst ridden, so if you need to, once finished, stop. Word Count: 3,744 Characters: Jared x Reader, mention of a few OC’s but no need to worry! Summary: Jared is a master of surprises, when he can get YN to shut up long enough!

Twenty five minutes after YN should’ve been long gone, fifteen minutes after she would’ve been on a bus, five minutes after she would’ve BEEN home - YN was still at work. A monkey would’ve been more effective in the roll opposite her.

Finally she wrapped up, sent the last email and shut down her computer, before running for the bus. She caught her breath and got a seat then pulled out her phone to send Jared a text, telling him how sorry she was for her colleagues idiocy and when he could expect her. But when the screen lit up, it was just a constant scroll of “Secret BMaids Biz”. 140 messages, and it was still coming in heavy. YN sighed and sent the text to Jared then began to read. This would surely keep her preoccupied for the ride home.

“OH MY GOD!” YN announced as soon as she was through the door. “Hey ba-” Jared tried, but YN had already broken the seal that was her pent up rant. “This Secret Be Maid Biz, crap… You wouldn’t even believe it. It’s looking to be almost two hundred each, and that’s not even including flights or accommodation.” YN dumped her handbag next to the side table and dropped her keys into the bowl, not noticing the two plates of dinner in front of Jared, or the blue velvet box that was sitting between them. Jared was patient, just listened as she continued her rant, knowing she’d get it all out and then he could have the moment with her. “Like, flower crowns? Really… why do we need flower crowns that are going to cost twenty each?” YN made a beeline for the fridge, lifting out the bottle of wine, undoing the cap and taking a swig as she got a glass down from the shelf. “And they want topless waiters, that’s gonna cost I dunno how much, depends on how many people go, and then they’re talking about twerking classes, and fuckin’,” YN took a gulp of the wine and topped it up, “Mani-pedis, that are just gonna get taken off in a week for the wedding.” Jared buzzed from his spot on the couch, listening as best he could, he was also so aware of the ring that was waiting for a finger to go on, he was so excited to ask, he almost couldn’t even think about the food he’d made, or even begin to take in all the bridesmaid drama she was sprouting. “If they want to pay a hundred and twenty five for all that, I’m happy to put on some nipple tassels, go topless and paint everyone’s nails, make flower crowns and,” YN planted a kiss to Jared’s head as she rounded the lounge, but she didn’t stop talking, “serve drinks, I’d do it all nude if that’s what they’d pay me!”

She plonked down onto the sofa and took a large gulp from her glass. Jared’s cheeks were slightly flushed, a small smile played at the corner of his mouth as he watched her launch back into the rant, leaning forward to push her glass further along the table from where she’d balanced it on the edge. “And, and, the way they all go on about it, it’s like it’s tomorrow. Seriously-- that smells amazing by the way.” She added, Jared almost missed the inserted comment, nodding and stroking her thigh as she continued. “Get this, they NEED me there,” YN sat forward and began to remove her sweater, “Fuck off, I don’t know any of you, you are expecting twenty-eight people. You don’t need shit from me.” The sweater came over her head, her hair coming with it, falling over her face. Jared took the sweater from her while she flipped her hair back into place, not missing a beat.

“And this is all before flights, so add two hundred on top of that, another hundred for a place to stay, even though they’ve booked an apartment, come on! It’s got three beds, and how many people are coming from the east coast?” YN reached down and pulled off her shoes, throwing them over the back of the lounge, “How many are coming from a different state? It’s not gonna fit us all. And I know, she’s offered to pay a bit to have me there, and you’ve offered and her mum has, but I’m not letting anyone do that. If she desperately wanted me there, she would’ve - Sorry, did you want one?” YN said, interrupting herself, noticing Jared’s eyes flicking to the table. He smiled and shook his head, mouth open to decline but she continued on, earning a snort of a chuckle from him.

“I’m not bitter about being asked after Emma couldn’t make it. All I’m saying is,” YN reached to her back and unclasped her bra, under her shirt, “If I’m like a ‘sister’ to her, as she keeps reminding me, wouldn’t you think I’d be a first thought?” She pulled her right arm into her sleeve and fumbled around before sticking it back out, “I mean, her mum, the other night, congratulated me on getting bridesmaid, then proceeded to tell me how Amy said she should’ve just asked me in the first place, and how did she not think of that and…” YN pulled her bra out of her other sleeve and hung the offending material over the arm of the couch. “I love Amy, I do, but she’s really showing her true colors, I’m not hurt because I know Amy. If you’re emotionally invested, you’re gonna get yourself hurt.” YN began to arrange the pillows behind her. “So off topic, well, no, but-- anyway. The point is, these bridesmaids are so over the top, promise me,” YN sat back, testing how comfy her arrangement was and seemingly decided it was perfect, she sat forward reaching blindly for her wine, “We’ll never do any of that.” YN glanced down to look at where her wine was, missing the fall of Jared’s face at her last words, instead noticing the box. “Oh my god, Jared.” She breathed, looking back up to him, seeing the hang of his head, the crease of his brow. “No babe, I didn’t mean… No-- I-- oh my god. Jared?” She put a hand on his thigh and tucked a finger under his chin, pushing him to look at her. “Surprise.” He muttered, crestfallen. She gaped at him, she didn’t know whether to fling herself at him or dig her own grave. She reached for the box, taking his hand and putting it in his large grasp. “I love you. I love us.” She promised, putting her thumb on the opening of the box, she looked up at him and he shrugged, not minding if she opened it or not.

The ring was stunning, and seemed to mirror what she had said when they were sitting in bed a year and a half ago after Amy had sent a picture of her engagement ring. “Why do women like these big ass diamonds? They’re so in ya face.” “What would you want? Let me guess, color?” Jared had laughed, pulling her into his side and taking the phone from her to look over the picture. “Laugh all you want, but I want green,” “Of course you do.” Another laugh from Jared as he handed back the phone. “Yeah, and I want something unique, something you don’t see on everyone’s finger.”

“Jared, it’s beautiful.” She whispered, she couldn’t take her eyes off it, so she didn’t even see the light that had sparked in Jared’s eyes, her comment giving him hope again. “So…” She looked up at his quiet word. “Ask me.” She begged, she was almost on her knees in front of him of his side of the couch, inches from his face, her eyes round and wide, waiting for him to say those magical words. A sly smile came across his face as he thought of how to phrase his question. “Will you not have a big wedding with me?” He managed to get out the whole question before her lips were on his. “Yes, Jared Padalecki, I will have the happiest, littlest, wedding with you!” Jared smiled as he pulled her back into a kiss, teeth clashing as they both smiled into it. Jared pulled back, both of them wiping the other’s tears, before he took her hand and pulled the ring from the box, sliding the ring into place on her left ring finger, kissing over it before moving back to her lips. Dinner long forgotten.

“From this moment, I take you as my best friend. I pledge to encourage, support and respect you through our life together. When this path becomes difficult, I promise to stand by you and uplift you, so that through our union, we can be stronger than we would ever hope to be apart. “I promise to be your number one fan, and be your ever present, listening and captivated audience. I promise to always grab your butt, even when we’re old and wrinkly. And I promise to always linger in our kisses. “For you, I will strive to be a better me, for you I will try to not rant as much, and for you, I promise, to learn how to cook.” Though there were a few muffled laughs from their parents, siblings and friends throughout the vows, this last line, got a loud “praise be” from YN’s mother. The Judge announced Jared and YN, husband and wife and smiled as they kissed. And as YN had promised, she lingered, pecking him twice more as Jared smiled against her lips. Instead of a wedding in the traditional sense they had a service at the court with immediate family, and friends they couldn’t imagine living without. After the ceremony, wedding bands in place, they all headed off to the big party, where their friends and extended family awaited, to celebrate their love. This way, in YN’s eyes, there was no fuss, no fight over who was a bridesmaid, extra expenses, and Jared had asked that the only gift they received, if people felt they need to give, was money to a flight agent for a secret honeymoon he was planning. And no matter how YN nagged at him, he hadn’t given in just yet.

“It says New Zealand, we’re going to New Zealand?” YN questioned as she looked at the ticket he’d handed her. Jared smiled and shook his head. “And here’s the tickets to your connecting flight, Mister Padalecki.” The stewardess behind the desk said, sliding the tickets, tucked into the passports, back across the counter, smiling when YN tried to get them before Jared snatched them up. “It’s a surprise, she doesn’t know where we’re headed yet.” Jared explained, tucking the travel documents into a pocket inside his jacket. “Ah well, may I say, I am very jealous of your destination!” The stewardess beamed, “And congratulations on your recent marriage.” “Thank you!” YN chimed, before steering Jared away from the desk, tucked under his arm, staring at him, hoping her defiant glare would make him finally crack. “Let’s go get that free champagne,” He teased, ignoring her look as he guided her towards the first class lounge.

For the first couple of hours of the flight it was excited chatter, a game of guesses for YN. She was begging for Jared to give her clues, throwing out places of where New Zealand could connect to. “Australia?” Jared pulled a maybe face but finally shook his head. “Tahiti?” She guessed again, causing him to laugh. “Nope.” “Come on give me a clue.” She pleaded, pulling out all the stops with her puppy dog eyes and pouted lips. “Just trust me, you’ll love it.” He said, leaning forward to give her a kiss, surprised when she pulled back. “If you give me a clue, I’ll give you a kiss.” She bartered, Jared took a deep breath and sighed. “Water.” He murmured, puckering his lips for his kiss now that he’d given a clue. YN turned her head, forgetting the kiss, deep in thought. “Noumea?” She questioned, looking back to him. He placed his hand at the back of her head and pulled her in for an inescapable kiss. “Nope.” He whispered, giving the tip of her nose a kiss before settling back into his seat and turning to the screen in front of him, leaving her to wonder.

Jared stopped in front of the large screen with all the different flight times and gates on it, he looked down the list and smiled. He bent to YN’s ear, his arms wrapped around her waist, her head leaning back against his chest. Her eyes were barely open as he whispered the flight number into her ear. She began to sleepily scan the different flights and found the number. “Fiji? We’re going to Nadi?” She said excitedly, turning in his arms to look up at him. “Good surprise?” He asked, leaning down to peck her lips. “Best surprise,” She muttered as she pressed against his lips again.

“Bula!” Came the greeting of the staff as Mr & Mrs Padalecki hopped off the boat, bags being handed off to one of the big men in a hawaiian themed work shirt. YN smiled up at Jared as they were then offered complimentary drinks while the traditional welcome song started. The tiny island, off Nadi, was where they were to spend the next week and a half, an itinerary of different activities on request and plenty of downtime planned, they were set for one hell of a honeymoon. “Welcome to Likuliku Lagoon Resort, if there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to call me. My name is Mali and I’m here to make sure you have the best time while celebrating your love for one another.” He said genuinely, not a hint of a smirk in sight as he stepped forward from the quickly disappearing welcome group. On the small golf buggy, their guide pointed out the different areas for activities, the bars and restaurants, the spa and other different spots. YN chatted away happily, asking different questions about the Island and the different activities they could book. “Here’s your suite, you’re at the end, as requested, you will not be disturbed unless called on. If you would like your room made up, please press the bell just inside the door, and someone will be there within the hour, or while you are at an activity.” Mali informed, YN blushed at the explanation and Jared caught it, knowing exactly what had gone through her mind, as it had his.

The bags were inside already, lovely swans made out of towels on the end of a bed covered in petals. “Happy Honeymoon!” Jared said once the door was closed behind them, their first chance of privacy in twenty-four hours. “This place is amazing!” She said, already sliding the door open to the deck, private plunge pool and sunbed. The view looked straight across a small patch of grass and over the sand to the ocean.

The room we are never leaving!

Our amazing deck, private pool and view of the ocean - five steps from our door!

“Jared, this would’ve cost an arm and a leg, and more!” She rounded on him, flinging herself into his arms as he joined her in the doorway. “You’re worth it.” He said simply before lifting her off her feet and carrying her back inside. “Why don’t we shed these clothes and have a shower?” She suggested, already winding a hand up the back of his shirt. He growled and nipped at her neck, loving the quiet moan that caught in her throat. Jared let go of her, reluctantly, and reached up to his collar, pulling the shirt over his head, finding she’d started to strip out of her dress as well. He followed her towards the bathroom, both kicking and shedding their remaining clothes, though he grabbed her hand when she started towards the small tiled shower. “There’s one outside.” He said, pulling her towards the glass doors that lead towards a pebbled wall, big stone slabs leading to the wide shower-head.

My beautiful girl in our outdoor shower.

After spending half a week moving from the bed, to the shower, to the sun bed, plunge pool and beach, hands always roaming over the other, never getting enough, YN spoke up. “I could make love to you for the full honeymoon, BUT,” “But,” Jared echoed with a chuckle, pulling her to straddle his lap while they sat in the plunge pool, her finger tracing circles in his chest hair. “Do you wanna do a different activity? Like jet ski, snorkeling, or even diving? I saw they do parasailing and they even have a golf course the resort over.” She suggested, her hand trailing up his neck, over his jaw, tracing the cupid’s bow of his lips. “You saw all that, hey?” He questioned, the smile that stretched his lips made her finger fall to his bottom lip, and he couldn’t resist but bite at it playfully. “I was looking through the pamphlet as you were sleeping.” She shrugged, retrieving her finger from between his teeth, frowning at him. “Why don’t we jet ski, that’ll be fun, we can do that tour they were talking about and take our snorkels.” He mused, placing a peck to her lips. And as she had vowed, she lingered.

Things we conquered together...

The next few days were busy and filled with activities, they even made friends with another couple while paragliding. By the end of the day and having done everything together they were set to spend the next day apart from their loved ones. Jared went off with Phil, the husband, ready for a men’s day of golf. While the girls suited up for a dive, to explore what the island’s reefs had to offer. After lunch and a long talk, Celia and YN went to the mainland for a spot of shopping.

Jared got his golf with Phil, YN got her dive with Celia.

On the last night, Jared had one more surprise. Little did he know, so did YN. “Jared, this is too much, we’re already married, you spoil me!” YN breathed as they approached the table Mali had set up for them. “I love you, and you deserve to be spoiled.” Jared said with a broad smile. “Mister Padalecki has already ordered for you both and there’s champagne open and waiting. Is there anything else I can get you?” Mali asked, holding Jared’s chair out for him after Jared had helped his wife. “Umm, actually, Mali, can I get a sparkling water? Instead of the champagne?” YN asked, smiling at Mali and ignoring the quirked brow coming from Jared. Our waiter nodded and headed off. “What’s up?” Jared asked, reaching across and taking YN’s hand, his thumb running back and forth over her knuckles as if it were a problem he could soothe. “Well, you might think you’re the master of surprises, but I have one for you.” YN licked her lips as Jared winked across at her. “What is it, or are you saving it for later?” Jared’s voice dropped to a growl and he wagged his eyebrows as her. “Stop, you hornbag!” She accused, swatting him playfully as he reached across and tucked a finger in the front of her dress to see what lingerie she was wearing. “You’ve been just as horn-baggy!” He shot back, stopping her foot under the table from traveling any further towards his crotch. She winked at him and then settled her elbows on the table. “Okay, in all seriousness, would you like your surprise now or later?” She asked, taking his hand again, this time her thumb ran over his knuckles. “Mali will be back any sec-” She tossed his hand at him and he sat back, body rocking with a boisterous laugh. “Now, I want my surprise now!” He answered, moving his chair around the table, closer to her. “You sure? You gotta get through dinner…” She waited as he thought. “Can I have a hint, is it a thing or is it … I dunno, something else?” He asked, placing a hand on her thigh as she turned to face him. “It’s a bit of both. It will be a thing. But at the moment it’s something else.” Her cryptic clue made him sit back and ponder. He looked back over to her and chewed on his bottom lip. “I want it now?” He asked as if there was a right or wrong answer. “You sure?” She giggled, taking his hand, her hand under his so his palm was facing up. “Yes,” she began to move his hand, “No. Ye-no, I don’t know. Do I want it now?” He asked again, this decision was really eating at him. “Why don’t I tell you when we’re halfway through dinner?” YN suggested, raising her eyebrows, the smile still on her lips, the one that hadn’t left since she’d got back from shopping with Celia. “Okay.” Jared breathed a sigh of relief, glad he didn’t have to make up his mind. They both looked out over the water as the sun set and the night sky was illuminated a shade of pink. There was a comfortable silence that fell between them as they both thought about the holiday they’d just shared. “Tell me now.” Jared blurted suddenly, startling YN but altogether making her laugh. “Okay, I’m just gonna say it, you don’t get to turn back,” She explained, giving him one last chance to pick later. “I’m pregnant!” She exclaimed as Jared opened his mouth to say something. His jaw hung open for a moment, he was staring, awestruck. “Jared, sweetheart, we’re pregnant.” She breathed, gently placing a palm on his cheek as she guided his upturned hand to her stomach. “When-- what-- how-- when did you find out? How did you?” Jared couldn’t decide what to ask first as he finally animated and looked between his hand on her stomach and her face. “We’re pregnant.” He breathed as she watched him, her rosy cheeks round and glowing as she smiled brightly at him. He pulled her into him, pressing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss. And as he pulled away for air, she lingered, foreheads touching as she whispered, “Happy Honeymoon!”

This is where our Honeymoon ended and our new life began xx

Hope you liked this. I just wanna take a moment to share a more serious note with you: after finishing this series and turning on the TV, the news came on and something I never thought would happen to me, happened - one of my friends from high school was on it. She had fallen ill while on her honeymoon in fiji and just as she was about to board the plane to come home to be treated, she passed away. With that in mind, can you please add Kelly and her husband Chase to your prayers, spare a thought for them, and hug your loved ones a little tighter? Here’s to you fatty, you’ll always be that bright smile at the back of the band.

Tagging: @atc74 @ackleholic-hunter @akshi8278 @arryn-nyxx @autopistaaningunaparte @avasmommy224 @babypieandwhiskey @beckawinchester @blacktithe7 @bringmesomepie56 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @charliebradbury1104 @chvalkenberg95 @clairese1980 @dancingalone21 @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @fandoms-are-the-best-escape @frenchybell @gabby913 @grace-for-sale @green-love-red-fantasyhearts @hasta-impalasta @i-like-your-assbutt @ilostmyshoe-79 @impala-dreamer @impalaimagining @iwriteaboutdean @jalove-wecallhimdean @jensen-jarpad @kazchester-fanfiction @kristaparadowski @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @lipstickandwhiskey @lucifer-in-leather @lucis-unicorn @melonberri @manawhaat @mogarukes @mrswhozeewhatsis @munlis @nichelle-my-belle @notnaturalanahi @oriona75 @percywinchester27 @purgatoan @redlipstickandplaid @ruprecht0420 @sdavid09 @sherloki-moriartea @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @waywardjoy @wheresthekillswitch @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @wi-deangirl77 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @wideawakeandwriting @dont-trust-humanity @you-know-whodoesthat-crazypeople @maddieburcham1 @captainemwinchester @mrsbatesmotel53 @samwinjarpad @kittenofdoomage @room-with-a-cat

#Lau's summer escape challenge #supernatural rpf #jared x reader #fiji honeymoon #jared padalecki #fiji #fluff #wedding #personal #rip kelly #you'll be missed

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onlyjihoons · 7 years

Text

college! minhyung

a/n; inspired by a series of unfortunate events that happened to yours truly, and it’s my first time writing a college au so please enjoy:’)

major: music and audio tech

mark really liked music and making music so when he heard there was a course for it he immediately signed himself up for that

and he’s in the school’s dance club,, a very underrated dancer

tbh he partially got in because of his looks

also an underrated visual in nct

but mostly because this boy got those sick moves and he does music too?? yes please

i’m not saying that he’s the campus hottie but that’s exactly what i’m saying

but he’s really low-key and just wants to pursue his passion in music

and do well

you and mark met through this thing where you get admitted early into a course you like

you,, chose communications and media management or mass communications, as you would like to call it(i shall refer it to cmm)

and mark was there for the early admission exercise too because he had it as a backup if he couldn’t get into music and audio tech

at first the whole room was super tense because,, cmm is fiercely competitive

and you needed more than just language to get through this whole thing

when you arrived, you took a seat at the back because,, isn’t that what students do

and then mark came into the room like a really awkward bean

literally bows to everyone while saying excuse me

and he takes his seat beside you(!!)

you were lowkey screaming because,, why would someone as hot as mark sit beside you,, an average girl who just wants to get into the damn course

and your school didn’t had guys like that

let’s take a moment to imagine mark in casual clothes, like that red lacoste polo tee and ripped jeans and black vans and a kanken?? did that made your heart race? because it made my heart do just that

ya’ll know exactly which pic im referring to

so you decided not to be a chicken and make friends w him

“i’m really nervous,, i’ve yet to internalize my script for the screen test later”

“same,, i’m more worried for the written test tbh” with that shy smile of his

ok b4 we move on there are 3 components of your early admission exercise thing

1. written test 2. screen test 3. interview

and basically you have to go through all of that lmao

ok let’s get back to the story

“i’m sure you’ll do well, uhm..”

“mark”

“mark, yep”

“and you’re?”

“y/n”

“that’s a pretty name ^^”

you swore your heart dropped

fast forward to the interview, you and mark were in the same group

and the damn lecturers had their radar on you bc wow reader you’re a catch

“so y/n, we saw that you write fiction in your portfolio, right?”

you broke into a sweat bc they ain’t gonna reveal that you write fanfictions in front of mark

“yeah i do”

“so could you please come up with a plot and characters for a current affair you know?”

you were pretty shook because fanfic ideas only hit you when it’s the right time(ff writers do you feel me)

so you were stuttering,

“i lost my childhood friend in a tsunami??”

and the lecturers literally cracked up at your idea

but they couldn’t blame you though, its hard to come up with an answer on the spot

at the end of the interview, mark was also lowkey cracking up

“omg i can’t believe you said that y/n, but i gotta admit it was pretty creative”

“i know right, why did i say that…”

“i thought it was really creative and different though, i liked it”

there goes your heart

fastforward to the beginning of the school term

mark and you exchanged numbers on that day and when you guys received the results of the posting he wasn’t in cmm but music and audio tech

tbh you were rlly happy for him bc you guys were convenient friends from that day on and he was so excited and passionate about making music its just so so heartwarming

and well, the first assignment the lecturer gave was about a collaboration?? article

it can be between any student as long as its a different major

and it applies to every student on campus gdi

so the first person that came to your mind was mark

so after your lecture you ran straight to the block mark’s lecture hall was at

and as soon his lecture ended you ran up to mark who was busy chatting with his newfound friends

“mark! did you get the collaboration assignment?”

“yeah i did, why?”

“c-can i collab with you?”

and all his friends were all stunned like,, why is this girl suddenly coming up to mark to collab

“s-sure, why not?” with the mark giggle, you know what i’m talking about

“good, i’ll see you soon then,” you winked, leaving mark dumbstruck

and when you left your heart was leaping out of your chest and you mentally slapped yourself for winking at mark

anyhow, you and mark would meet up every other day to work on the assignment, with mark as your protagonist of your article

and mark makes a music piece, as you take part in producing the music piece

but the song is actually about you!!

basically mark talks about what he learns in the course, like making music and stuff

he also plays the guitar which is a plus

whilst you guys were collabing

mark gained attention for his insanely good looks, which he often denied and pushes the campus hottie title to taeyong,, his senior

and also his music making and lyric writing talent

have you seen his rap freestyle in snowball project??? like how did you even mark lee

and you gained attention for your writing, one of the top cmm students in school with a bright personality and media sense

and rumour goes around the campus that the best students of both majors are collabing and are already scoring those As lmao

that rumour was true and everyone was looking forward to the finished products of the geniuses of the school

while you two were collabing you two got to know more about each other

and you know,, you,, like,, like,, each other its so cute

you two keep sending signals to one another

for mark its adding smileys to his texts and a few hearts and like holding the door when you enter the recording studio and all those gentlemanly stuff ugh so sweet

for you,, its just more affection and skinship and playful slaps on the shoulder

the rest of the school; “pLEASE DATE ALREADY”

both of your friends literally could sense those signals but the both of you couldn’t

so on the last day of doing the assignment you and mark would show each other’s completed assignment

you showed mark your article of him, alongside with a candid picture of him working on the music you took secretly

“omg y/n,, this is so good, thank you so much”

“you’re welcome mark,, it’s nothing,, really”

and mark showed you his finished music piece and you were so proud of him because the song actually sounded legit and not by a college student

after the music ended, mark looked at you seriously and started fiddling with his hands

“you know,, y/n,, i’ve been wanting to tell you this in the longest time…”

“what is it?”

“that,, i really like you,, since the d-day we met, i really like how you are so passionate about writing and stuff… and how pretty you are and…”

“i like you too, mark, i really really like you”

and the you two hug and boom youre dating aAAAA so cute

dating college!mark would be the softest thing ever

he would memorise your favourite drink and buy it for you every morning without fail

you reckon mark would be broke by the end of the year from buying your favourite white chocolate mocha from starbucks every morning lol

and wait outside the girls’ dorm for you

and the main point is he looks good while waiting for you that sometimes you come down a lil later to just take candid pics of him waiting for you LOL

if mark’s lectures end earlier than yours, he would wait for you outside your lecture room like omg sweetest boyfriend ever

basically you guys are like inseperable

but he’s a lil shy with the pda during the first steps of the r/s so expect loads of blushy mark

but when he’s warmed up to it he’s like the clingiest baby ever

he does give you space tho,, which youre thankful for

and when he stays up too late to do his music assignment you would creep into the studio to bring him some snacks and coffee

and make sure he gets sleep because this boy can’t be stopped unless youre around

you joined the dance club soon after he joined an like you two are the literal power couple with the visuals and talents just,,, debut together please

when ya’ll did 1million dance studio’s All I Wanna Do choreography iT WAS LIT AND SLAYING EVERYONE WAS CHEERING

mark is generally rlly shy with compliments so you always compliment him so that people dont take advantage of his humility if that makes sense

like there was once he had a group project and je did most of the work and everyone was like “mark you did all the work!! this isnt a group project”

mark was like no omg my teammates did the work too

and his jackass teammate was like “oh mark only did half of the work and we did the most”

you were ready to fight that asshole and mark had to literally hold you back

mark really likes it when you steal his hoodies and wear it to lectures bc you look so cute in them

and his graphic tees too this boy has gr8 fashion ngl

when the break rolls around you guys would go cafe hopping and eat till your stomachs were almost exploding

and also shopping for clothes and all that

mark was willing to be your human guinea pig when you buy makeup when your hand runs out of space for swatches

and when its time to pay mark just shoves his credit card to the cashier and youre like

“mark youre gonna be so broke thats $128 worth of makeup”

and you pouting and mark had to use his fingers to lift your lips up into a smile

“you’ve done so much for me for just being my girlfriend, babe, just let me pay for it this once”

and it was the 34th time he paid lmao

anyhow dating!college mark is all pure and fluffy and innocent

please give mark lots of love

#fluffy writes #mark lee #lee minhyung #mark lee scenarios #nct #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream #nct u #nct 127 #nctwriters

190 notes · View notes

hollymartinswrites · 4 years

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Chapters: 15/? Fandom: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti), Doctor Sleep - Stephen King, Doctor Sleep (2019) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, Original Child Character(s), Dan “Danny” Torrance, Abra Stone Additional Tags: Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Domestic, Light Angst, Family Feels, Childhood Trauma, Adoption, Kid Fic, Adopted Children, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Marriage, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Are Parents, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Catholicism, Richie Tozier Has Issues, Extended Tozier Family, Medical Examinations, Stephen King References, The Shining References, Doctor Sleep References, References to Depression, Depression, Mentioned Sonia Kaspbrak

Summary:

Eddie and Richie embark on the most terrifying experience of all—parenthood. Or, the author desperately needed a domestic, family fix-it for Richie and Eddie and it turned into a much longer, angstier exploration than I expected.

Chapter XV: Growing up isn’t easy but Eddie and Richie are determined to help their daughters along the way.

The next couple of days went by in a blur. The rest of the Losers arrived, were just as shocked as Richie and Eddie at Bev and Ben’s surprise baby, and spent the remainder of the trip hugging, kissing, laughing, and fawning over Tess and Lydia and of course, baby Ida. Even though both men had insisted on no gifts for their daughters, none of the Losers had listened, and their daughters were delighted with their latest Christmas presents (Eddie even had to run out and purchase a new tote bag to lug them home).

But, soon enough, it was time to head back and face reality. The holiday season was over and the girls had school. Eddie, secretly, was looking forward to returning home and by the looks from his husband, he knew Richie felt the same way.

The girls cried when they left for the airport—even shy Tess. Clearly, Ben and Bev’s kindness and patience (and the new addition of an adorable, happy baby) had finally worked their magic on their daughter. Yet, by the time the family pulled into their own driveway, they were all more than relieved.

Together, Eddie and Richie helped the girls unpack, bathe, and get ready for their first day back to school after the break. Both men were grateful that they were raising children who truly enjoyed school and were too busy discussing which new outfits they would wear and what toys to tell their friends about to fret. Soon enough, it was time for bed and both girls, exhausted from their trip, dropped off to sleep easily. Now, it was time for just them.

“We did it,” Richie said, stretching after they walked into their bedroom. “We survived.”

“And the girls did great,” Eddie replied, yawning.

“Yeah, beyond what I expected,” Richie answered. “Guess we can start planning more family trips.”

Eddie nodded and leaned against the doorframe, gazing at his husband, a tender smile on his face. Richie yawned and reached for his dresser drawer before noticing.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Eddie replied, shrugging. “Just...I need to take a shower.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Be quicker if we take one together.”

Richie blinked and Eddie smirked as he watched his husband’s face go slack. After all these years, he still enjoyed shocking him.

“Together?” Richie repeated, his voice unnaturally high. “We haven’t done this since...since…”

“Come on,” Eddie grinned, taking his hand.

“But...what if this kids wake up and need us?”

“Ten minutes,” Eddie replied. “They’ll be fine for ten minutes.”

Richie grinned.

“Baby, when I’m this hard for you, I only need two minutes,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows in a poor imitation of seduction.

Eddie laughed and dragged him into the bathroom.

Work sucked.

He had been looking forward to getting back into the regular routine of things but, as he sat at his desk and stared at the hundreds of emails in his inbox, Eddie realized he would’ve been much happier at home. Rubbing at his eyes in frustration, Eddie sighed and tried to focus. He deleted as many unnecessary emails as possible, responded when necessary, and glanced up to the time. Two minutes had passed. Great.

His phone buzzed. Eddie quickly grabbed it and swiped it open. A text from Richie.

Just picked up Tess. She has her first loose tooth!

Eddie smiled, his heart suddenly light.

Send me a pic, he texted back and waited. And waited. And waited some more. He swallowed nervously but tried to remind himself that Richie was probably driving and shouldn’t he be glad that Richie never texted while driving?

Eddie looked back at his emails and tried to get through a few more, but he noticed he was nervously bouncing his leg. He clenched his free hand and took a deep, calming breath. It did not calm him.

His phone began ringing. He answered it immediately and winced at the sound of his daughter wailing.

“Hey, sorry,” Richie said, sounding breathless. “We had a bit of a meltdown in the car.”

“What happened?” Eddie asked quickly. “Is she alright? Are you alright?”

“We’re fine,” Richie answered. “We—Tess, it’s okay, I’m talking to Daddy, you can talk to him next—we just got home. And we’re a little freaked out by the whole loose tooth thing.”

Eddie’s heart twisted painfully.

“Let me speak with her,” he said gently.

“Okay, hang on,” Richie said and Eddie could hear him turn away from the phone and say, “Tess, baby, it’s Daddy. He wants to talk to you. Here, lemme wipe your nose. Okay, here you go.”

“Daddy?” whimpered a little wet voice.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie replied, his eyes closing briefly as he tried to keep calm, “are you okay? What’s wrong? Tell me.”

“I...I…” Tess broke down again and Eddie heard Richie gently calming her, “I’m scared!”

Eddie’s heart cracked a bit and he glanced down at his free hand, once again clenched tightly.

“What are you scared of?” he asked softly.

“I don’t wanna lose my tooth,” she wept. “I don’t want the Tooth Fairy to come. It’s gonna hurt.”

“Sweetheart, it’s not going to hurt,” he said quickly before changing tactics, “and it’s okay to be scared. We all get scared sometimes but you know you’re very brave, right?”

Tess was too busy crying to respond.

“Eddie?” Richie said as he got back on the phone.

“Do you need me to come home?”

“No, I think I can get it under control. Besides, it’s your first day back at work.”

Eddie glanced back at his computer screen and frowned. He absently rubbed at his chest, a deep pull nearly taking his breath away.

“I’m coming home,” he said firmly. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Alright, but only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure, Richie.”

Eddie ended the call and stood from his desk, the only thought in his mind that he wanted to be with his family.

He was home in less than half an hour. Richie opened the door before he even had a chance to unlock it, his husband smiling tiredly at him.

“Where’s Tess?” Eddie asked immediately, stepping inside.

“Down for a nap,” Richie answered, closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry, you really didn’t need to come home early.”

“I wanted to,” Eddie sighed, putting down his briefcase. “I couldn’t focus at work anyway. And I couldn’t… not with her upset like that.”

Richie nodded and ran a hand through his unruly hair.

“She calmed down a bit after talking to you,” he said. “She’s still spooked by the whole thing. I don’t know, I guess it’s scary the first time but I wasn’t prepared for a freakout like this. Lydia had only been excited.”

“I know,” Eddie replied. He gazed up at his husband and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “How are you doing?”

Richie offered a gentle smile and shrugged.

“I’m alright,” he sighed. “I guess I was just...thrown off by her meltdown. Tess has been so good lately, so confident.” He shrugged again. “I hate seeing her upset.”

Eddie nodded and leaned up to peck him gently on the lips when they were interrupted by the sound of Tess crying out for her papa. Both men raced to her bedroom and threw open her door, only to see her sitting up in bed, her face hidden in her hands as she cried.

“Tess, Tess,” Eddie gasped, rushing up to her bed with Richie right behind him, “Tess, it’s alright, you’re safe. There’s nothing to worry about. Your papa and I are here.”

She immediately hid her face in his chest, muffling her sobs. Eddie looked up at Richie helplessly, but he looked as troubled as he felt. Surely this was a lot more than merely being scared of a loose tooth.

“Talk to us, kiddo,” Richie offered. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Tess sniffled and wiped at her eyes before slowly sitting back.

“I knew...I knew my tooth was loose...loose last night,” she hiccuped through the tears. “It’s scary.”

“I know it’s a bit scary but it’s really nothing to fret over,” Eddie promised. “It’s just a part of growing up and it doesn’t hurt, it just feels weird.”

“Yeah, and you get money from the Tooth Fairy,” Richie reminded her.

Tess sniffled again before looking down at her lap.

“I...when I get scared...the bad things come back,” she admitted, her voice thick.

“What bad things?” Eddie asked, cold fear gripping his heart.

“The bad things I see,” she explained. “When I’m scared...they come back. The scary things. Like Papa floating and the mean lady who gave you yucky medicine when you was little, Daddy. I can’t make them go away.”

See, Eddie-Bear? I knew you couldn’t protect her, his mother laughed from the grave. A wave of dizziness overwhelmed him, and Eddie briefly wondered which way to fall in case he collapsed.

“Tess, those are…” Richie swallowed before taking her hands, “those aren’t real. They’re like bad dreams. They can’t hurt you.”

Tess shook her head.

“Abracadabra showed me how to stop them,” she murmured. “But it’s hard when I’m scared.”

Eddie blinked and was suddenly aware of Richie’s arms around him and their daughter. An intense desire to give way to tears overwhelmed him but for Tess’s sake, he remained quiet. He closed his eyes as he felt Richie kissing the top of both of their heads.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, “it’s alright, Tess.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said gently, “your Papa is right. They can’t hurt you. I know they’re scary but they can’t hurt you. They’re like memories or something.”

Tess nodded, tears still streaming down her face.

“And we’d never let anything hurt you,” Richie insisted. “Your daddy and I both promise you that.”

“I know,” Tess murmured.

“Just remember how brave you are,” Eddie whispered. “You and Lydia can do anything.”

“And a loose tooth has nothing on you,” Richie reminded her.

She nodded again and snuggled closer to her dads. Eddie closed his eyes again and took a deep breath, allowing his husband and daughter to center him.

“We need to talk to Abra,” Eddie declared later that night.

Richie looked up and nodded once.

“I suppose so,” he sighed.

“Her classes probably started up again,” Eddie considered. “What did she say? She’s a junior?”

“Sophomore, I think,” Richie answered.

“Well, I don’t want to take her away from her classes,” Eddie replied. “I just want her to...like...reassure Tess.”

Richie gazed off into the middle of the room and a sad smile appeared on his face.

“She doesn’t like change, poor thing,” he whispered. He turned towards Eddie. “Reminds me of you.”

Eddie sighed and shook his head.

“Maybe I’m overreacting,” he muttered. “Maybe we just need to take her to the therapist again.”

“We can do both,” Richie offered. He leaned back to lay on their bed. “At least Lydia was able to calm her down a bit about losing a tooth.” He sighed. “I’m not crazy about it either.”

Eddie furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Not crazy about what?” he asked.

Richie hesitated before admitting, “Tess losing a tooth means that she’s growing up.”

Eddie smiled and shook his head before stepping up to the bed and laying beside his husband. He rested an arm over his chest and sighed deeply.

“Our kids have to grow up,” he said gently.

“I know that,” Richie shot back. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Eddie leaned in to kiss his cheek. Richie turned his head to catch Eddie’s lips with his own, his own hands reaching to card through Eddie’s hair.

“Maybe…” he murmured against Eddie’s lips, “maybe if we had a baby…”

Eddie burst out laughing.

“You ass,” he insisted. “I knew that was coming soon.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did, you’re not very subtle, Richie.”

Richie sighed and gazed up at the ceiling.

“But…”

“And what if we had a baby?” Eddie asked, leaning up on his elbows. “That baby will grow up, too. And what then? We get another baby?”

Richie shrugged.

“That’s a possibility,” he admitted.

Eddie rolled his eyes and, with his fingers, gently turned Richie’s face towards him. He smiled down at his husband, love filling him so completely that, for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

“You’re a ridiculous man, Richard Tozier,” he murmured. “And I love you for it. But maybe let’s not discuss having another kid while our current one is in the middle of a crisis.”

Richie’s eyes grew brighter.

“You mean, you’d be up to discussing having another kid later?” he asked tentatively.

Eddie smiled again and nodded. Richie grinned and reached up, bringing his husband down to meet his lips once again. His hands carded through Eddie’s hair and, for the second time that day, Eddie felt dizzyingly weak. This time was much better.

“Where are we going?” Lydia asked for the upteenth time, swinging her and her father’s arms as she held his hand.

“We told you, the park,” Richie reminded her, squeezing her hand in reply.

“Bu it’s cold out,” she pointed out.

“It’s not that cold,” Richie answered. “And after the park, we’ll go get lunch.”

“Can we go to the American Girl store?” she asked.

“No, we have other plans.”

“What about the Museum of Natural History?”

Richie opened his mouth to refuse but immediately thought better of it and gazed at Eddie imploringly. Eddie shook his head. Nearly every trip to New York City resulted in Richie trying to convince Eddie to go to that museum again and though Eddie loved it, too, they had plans today.

“We’re nearly there,” Eddie said gently, “and if there’s enough time, we may be able to get to the zoo.”

Both girls cheered excitedly and Eddie hoped he wasn’t promising something he couldn’t come through with. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint his daughters...and Richie.

“I’m tired of walking,” Tess declared suddenly, pulling on his arm.

“Oh yeah?” Eddie replied. “Should we get you a stroller? Like baby Ida?”

Tess nodded solemnly and Eddie ran his hand through her hair.

“You’re far too grown up for that,” he observed. “I think you can handle another block or so.”

She gazed up at him with wide, plaintive eyes, and Eddie heard Richie sigh beside him.

“She learned that puppy dog look from you, you know,” Richie insisted.

Eddie was about to shoot back a snarky response when Lydia suddenly asked if they were finally at the park. The two men looked up.

“Yep,” Richie said. “Come on, let’s go find a bench to sit down for a minute.”

“What are we doing here, anyway?” Lydia asked. “We’re not seeing a play, are we?”

“No,” Richie sighed. “Did anyone ever tell you you ask a ton of questions?”

Lydia nodded.

“You did,” she pointed out, “but you said that was good and it shows I’m clever.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

Eddie sat down on a bench with Tess on his lap, his husband and other daughter following behind him.

“Your comeuppance for talking so much as a kid, Rich,” he observed. “At least, Lydia asks questions and not just spews nonsense like you did.”

Richie tried to glare but ended up smiling. Lydia began explaining what clever things she had recently done in school as the family rested on the bench, observing the people going about their day in the park. Eddie took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, wrapping his arms around Tess. This was nice. He could sit here all day with his family.

“Hey,” Richie said suddenly, his voice light, “who’s that over there, Tess?”

Eddie followed Richie’s pointing finger and a wave of nervousness washed over him. He prayed, not for the first time, that this wasn’t a big mistake. He needed Tess to be okay with it. He squeezed her in his arms again and watched her look, as well. When she spotted who her father was pointing to, she froze.

“Who’s that?” Lydia asked.

Before anyone could answer, Tess shrieked, “Abracadabra!” and launched herself out of Eddie’s arms. Stunned, he watched her race to the approaching young woman—a wide smile on her face—and throw her arms around her excitedly. They hugged for a long moment before Tess released her, took her hand and all but dragged her to her family.

“Daddy, Papa,” she cried, “this is Abracadabra! She’s real. I told you!”

“I know,” Eddie said, smiling as he glanced at his husband. Richie was also smiling and his eyes were shining brightly. “We always believed you, sweetheart.”

It was dark before they finally decided it was time to head home. Tess cried. Lydia pouted. Even Abra seemed upset but both men promised to visit again soon and plan more get togethers during the summer break.

“Good,” Abra insisted, “maybe I can come down by you guys at one point. The city is intolerable in the summer.”

“Oh, I remember,” Eddie agreed. “Tess, Lydia, say thank you to Abra for hanging out with us today.”

“Thank you,” Lydia declared, smiling.

Tess hesitated before throwing her arms around her again and hugging her tightly.

“Thank you, Abracadabra,” she whispered.

“Aw, you’re welcome,” Abra replied. “Are you feeling better now? Not so scared anymore, right?”

Tess nodded and wiped at her eyes before stepping back and taking her father’s hand.

“Thank you, Abra,” Richie said, his voice surprisingly serious, “for everything. For helping our daughter so much.” He swallowed and seemed at a loss for words. Abra merely smiled again and nodded.

Eddie cleared his throat and extended his hand. Abra took it.

“Yes, thank you,” he said softly. “I...we...thank you.”

Abra sniffed and shrugged.

“It was nothing,” she said quickly. “I just hope she does better now. No more getting scared, right, Tess?”

“Right,” Tess agreed.

The two men looked at the young woman and both felt compelled to do more than merely take her out for lunch and dinner. Still, to a college student, free food was better than gold, Eddie reasoned. He sighed and shook his head.

“Get home safe,” he said firmly.

“Don’t talk to strangers,” Lydia reminded her and Abra laughed.

“Okay, I promise,” she said and with one last quick hug to Tess, headed towards the subway.

Richie turned to gaze at his husband before looking down at their youngest daughter.

“Tess,” he asked, “was this a good thing? Was it good to see Abracadabra in person?”

Tess looked up at her father, her eyes bright and clear. She nodded vigorously.

“Yes, Papa,” she said, “I like seeing my friend.”

“It’s good to have friends,” Richie smiled, taking her other hand. “Your Daddy and I know that better than anyone.”

#reddie #reddie fanfic #it chapter 2 #abra stone #doctor sleep

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aylee-ann · 7 years

Text

(and in a crowd of people) you are the only one I see

(Inspired by this prompt in which Baekhyun buys so many of Yixing’s second album that he accidentally wins a place at a fan meet)

pg-13/ romance, humour, slice-of-life, baekxing (cause you can never have enough of that ♡)

The lack of a certain person in his life for most of the year has turned out to be more of a struggle than Baekhyun could ever imagine. EXO's been busy promoting their new album and doing concerts, while Yixing-- oh, his Yixing-- has been busy with his schedules in China. The political conflict China and South Korea are (still) involved in isn't making things any better. What seemed to be a separation of a few months top is now slowly becoming a full-year one with only quick encounters in between that don't really count.

He's only seen Yixing in the flesh twice in the span of 10 months. Truth be told, both times were so fleeting he sometimes wonders if they were even real to begin with. Yixing never stayed for too long. Long enough to assure Baekhyun that he wasn't a figment of his imagination, but not long enough to make Baekhyun miss him any less. Knowing that he'd pack his things and leave in a day or two made Baekhyun miss him even more despite his presence.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and Baekhyun feels like he's going crazy from this terrible Yixing drought which is at its worst after months of not breathing the same air with his favourite person. This, on the other hand, has led to Baekhyun's life mission of buying as many albums possible when Yixing drops his second album-- his second son as he so lovingly calls.

Baekhyun's pre-ordered ten copies each time from numerous Korean and Chinese websites. It took him half an hour to register an account and get the hang of ordering from Chinese websites. If it were for Yixing, Baekhyun would be willing to go through fire and water— anything, really. He's even getting on the other members' nerves so that they'll purchase extra copies of Yixing's album. The other members have tacitly agreed upon the tactic to simply show him a screenshot of a recent purchased Yixing album whenever he throws a fit.

Baekhyun proceeds to order a bulk of Yixing's album on the day of its release. He's even borrowed Suho's credit card for the sake (saying that it was an emergency). Baekhyun doesn't dare thinking about the moment Suho checks his credit balance and storms into his room, eyes filled with rage.

He remains unscathed until the third day. When Baekhyun comes home (with a couple of Yixing's albums purchased at some nearby stores in his bag) that afternoon, he's met with the other 7 members looking at him disapprovingly.

"Baekhyun," Suho says at length, taking a few steps closer. To Baekhyun this sounds like the start of hour long lectures he won't have the heart to remember. "We know you love Yixing. I mean, we all love Yixing. And Yixing loves you too," Suho clears his throat, falling into a long silence before continuing.

"But this seriously has got to stop. You've bought hundreds of copies of his album already. I doubt we have enough space for them. Jesus, you can probably make a castle out of those albums."

"Yeah, maybe I should," Baekhyun ponders despite Suho's death glare. Baekhyun can see Sehun, Kai, and Chanyeol doing their best not to burst out laughing from the corner of his eyes. "It could be Yixing's sleeping place when he comes back." Baekhyun beams from ear to ear just at the thought of it.

"You've even gone over the credit line, for god's sake!" Suho goes into hysterics, not even batting an eye. Without another word, he sticks out his hand demandingly. "Give me back the credit card, Baek. You barged into my room at 2am, crying and saying it was urgent. This is obviously not something one would label as an emergency."

Sehun and Kai snicker softly at the back, immediately covering their mouths when Suho turns around. DO kicks Sehun in the shins with a warning look while Xiumin only shakes his head. Chen's half-heartedly listening to Suho lecturing Baekhyun while checking his phone every other minute under the coffee table.

Baekhyun ends up having all his credit cards confiscated, even the one he hid under the floor tile just in case. He was already thinking of using it for this occasion, but Sehun (that brat) had to rat him out.

"It's only fair this way," Sehun said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "You sold me out last time I asked for a favour."

"It wasn't my intention. It just slipped from my tongue, I swear," he tried to defend himself only to receive Sehun's cold glance in response. If there's anyone holding grudges, it's Sehun. It's just bad luck for Baekhyun that he happens to be the one in the receiving end, especially during this critical period.

Baekhyun refused to have dinner as an act of rebellion in the hope that Suho might show mercy and give him back his credit cards. This foolish action has resulted in not only a no-show of his credit cards, but also an empty stomach. That night, lying in bed with a foul mood and a grumbling stomach, Baekhyun receives a message from Suho himself (also known as the root of all his problems at this point).

I know you're mad at me, but I am only doing this for you. I'm sure there are other ways to show how much you love and care about Yixing. If you come up with anything that does not involve buying another copy of Yixing's album, we're happy to help :)

He knows it's in good faith and that Suho is actually doing him a favour by finally putting the brakes on his insane album hunt. For Baekhyun, doing this means a whole lot more than Suho can imagine. Love is blind, people say. If blind is buying as many copies of the same album as possible, Baekhyun's all for it. So he leaves the message on read because that's as petty as he can go and tries to fall asleep.

Yixing calls at an ungodly hour the next morning, stirring Baekhyun awake.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Yixing says cheerily through the phone.

Baekhyun groans, eyes still closed as he puts his phone above his left ear. “It’s 5 am, Mr. Zhang. Unlike you, I am enjoying my days off. Your timings are always the worst. Gosh, I hate you,” Baekhyun protests, burying his face into his pillow.

“I know,” Yixing chuckles, filling the silence with his laughter.

“I hate you,” Baekhyun groans louder, “I can’t even see the dimple on your cheek now. What’s the point of having you as my boyfriend now? You’re deliberately doing this to torture me, right?”

“Of course not,” Yixing says gently, heaving a sigh, “I’ve got to go now. It was nice hearing your voice though, I’m recharged for the day. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too” Baekhyun says, making a kissing sound and hangs up. It usually takes them half an hour to truly get to the part where one of them has the audacity to hang up on the other. Yixing’s been much busier lately which is why Baekhyun has decided to become the stronger one and make things easier for his man.

He suddenly receives a notification from his email account. Blinking, Baekhyun proceeds to read the whole email, his mouth opening wider towards the end of the email. He lets out a strangled shriek when he reaches the final sentence.

Byun Baekhyun has won a place to Zhang Yixing's next fan meeting in Shanghai.

Chen and DO come storming into his room upon hearing his loud, shrill scream at the crack of dawn.

"What happened? Is something wrong? Did something happen to Yixing?" Chen asks breathlessly, poking his head into Baek's room.

"Just because you're up doesn't mean others should be as well, Byun Baekhyun. You can have your screaming sessions later in the day," DO mumbles threateningly, shoving Chen aside.

"I love you two, a lot," Baekhyun sing songs, giving them a huge group hug and plants a kiss on their cheeks.

DO steers clear of Baekhyun after the morning confession, while Chen announces he will be in his room for the whole day and does not want to be disturbed in anyway, even Xiumin is not allowed to interfere.

Even the others feel a weird energy coming from Baekhyun, who's been flashing his rectangular trademark smile non-stop for the whole day. (It's up to the point where Suho even considers giving him back his credit card in fear of Baekhyun going berserk.)

After weighing the options and whatnot, Baekhyun’s dead set on going. He’s going to make a surprise visit, go undercover, and get Yixing’s signature on one of the albums. Everything's going smoothly and nothing-- absolutely nothing-- can spiral out of control this time. Baekhyun's carefully double-checked his schedule to make sure that there aren't any clashes on the day Zhang Yixing (the love of his life) holds the fan meeting. The tickets are booked, his travel bag is packed. The only problem is explaining his sudden disappearance to Suho, who's got incredible skills and hawk eyes when it comes to this matter.

He's tried asking every single member to cover for him, but none of them seem remotely interested in giving a friend in need a helping hand. The thing is, Byun Baekhyun does not back down. In the face of challenge, he only emerges stronger and more determined.

By the end of day, Xiumin concedes, agreeing to lie for Baekhyun.

"What are you up to by the way?" Xiumin asks curiously, lowering the book he's been reading.

"That's a secret," Baekhyun flashes him a grateful grin. "I'll send you pics."

"If you get me into trouble with Suho because of this, I'm spilling the beans about that one time you—"

Baekhyun hurries over to cover his mouth, "Bloody hell, are you planning to get me killed? Do not ever mention that when Suho is literally in the next room," Baekhyun hisses in whisper tone.

"I don't think it will cause much trouble. It might land me a detention of 2 weeks, but I doubt that he'll do anything to you. I mean, you're the hyung,” Baekhyun adds.

"Alright," Xiumin sighs, praying for dear God that he hasn't just signed up for hell.

Baekhyun sneaks out of the dorm at around 4 am in the morning with the help of Xiumin who calls him a cab and accompanies him down to the foyer.

“Good luck, Baek. Whatever you’re doing, Yixing knows you love him,” Xiumin says, patting Baekhyun’s shoulders.

“How did you—?”

“Whenever you talk about something that’s Yixing related there are hearts in your eyes. You’re normally a weirdo but when Yixing is involved you become a lunatic,” Xiumin shakes his head although the corners of his lips are slightly tugged up.

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Baekhyun grins, giving Xiumin a big hug.

“Oh, and there’s something else,” Xiumin says at length, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, shoving a thick envelope into Baekhyun’s hands. “There are some letters I wrote for Yixing. I was hoping you could hand them over to him.”

Baekhyun grins, nudging Xiumin in the elbow. “Aww, I love that my man is loved,” he says, carefully placing the envelope into his bag.

Xiumin heaves another sigh, before taking out another thicker stack of letters from his bulging left pocket.

“The others know you’re going to Yixing’s fan meeting. They want you to hand over these letters as well.”

Baekhyun is speechless for a split second. “How did everyone figure out?”

“Sehun connected the dots,” Xiumin says, chuckling, “Yixing skyped us yesterday when you were in your room wondering why you keep talking about his coming fan meeting 24/7. Sehun came up with the answer after the call.”

“Does Suho know?” Baekhyun asks anxiously. The cab has finally arrived, coming to a halt in front of them.

“I’m not sure. He wasn’t with us yesterday so I guess he isn’t aware of you flying to Shanghai yet.”

“Alright, I’ll be back by tonight. Help me out guys. Keep in mind that I’m delivering letters and love to our Yixing.”

Xiumin nods his head, signalling Baekhyun to stop ranting when he opens his mouth to say something else. With a cheery good luck and another supportive pat, Xiumin shoves Baekhyun into the cab and motions for the driver to leave.

After a two-hour flight, Baekhyun’s finally made it to Shanghai. In the meantime, he’s found a suspicious envelope in his rucksack when rummaging for his small notebook. He sees Suho’s handwriting at the front. A neatly “To Yixing” written at the bottom right with a heart drawn next to it. Baekhyun shakes his head laughing, making a mental note to tease Suho later when he gets back.

He takes a cab to the fan meeting location and plots his entrance during the drive. He doesn’t want to be recognized by anyone and draw the attention to him on this special day. He’ll just try his best and keep it cool. His goal is simple: getting a quick glimpse of Yixing, delivering him what would seem like a stack of fan letters and having his copy (one of his many ones that is) signed by Yixing. After that, he’ll get the hell out of there before Yixing or anyone figures out his true identity.

There are hundreds of Xingmis around, frantically talking about something he assumes to be Yixing related. His limited Chinese enables him to pick up on some certain phrases, but he’s not efficient enough in the language to contribute to the conversation. He almost slips his tongue, screaming yes, me too when he overhears a group of male Xingmis at the far back expressing their love for Yixing. Baekhyun’s standing in line, nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, inching forward at the speed of a snail, trying his best not to do anything Baekhyun stupid.

In his head, he’s practicing his pose, the things he’d say. Baekhyun’s written an essay-long speech in Mandarin but he’s barely remembering the first few lines after the flight. Maybe he��ll just say a couple of things in Korean and pretend to be an exchange student. Number one priority when it’s his turn is to keep his head down and avoid eye contact at all cost. Even a split second will make him swoon and send him to cloud nine. He might not be able to contain himself and jump into Yixing’s arm.

He'll not only land in Yixing’s arms (which is in this case a dream come true, indeed), but also on the front page of the newspapers the next morning that will take China and Korea by storm (sadly). So Baekhyun balls his fists, bites his lips and takes a deep breath. He can do this, he can control himself for the sake of Zhang Yixing.

Easier said than done. The closer he gets, the more anxious he gets. The clearer his view of Yixing gets, the more he yearns to actually see him and have him smile back at him with dimples poking out from his cheeks and stars in his eyes. The mere thought of Yixing mouthing ‘I love you’ to him already makes his knees go weak.

‘Get yourself together,” Baekhyun shakes his head vigorously, taking in a deep breath. ‘You can do this.’

With his head still down, Baekhyun pulls out the stack of letters from his bag and the album he wants to have signed. He’s only 5 people away from Yixing, and his heart is already on the verge of exploding.

“Hello,” Yixing greets him cheerfully, looking a bit confused when Baekhyun does not respond or look up.

“Hi,” Baekhyun manages in Mandarin with an awkward wave. “I’m an exchange student from Korea. A big fan,” he mumbles, tripping all over his own words.

“Oh,” Yixing flashes him a genuine smile that radiates gratefulness and admiration. “Thank you for your support. It means a lot to me,” he says in Korean, taking the album from Baekhyun’s trembling hands.

“What’s your name?”

“You can just write B.”

“Just B?”

“Yes, just B,” Baekhyun feels his whole face burning up. He’s only stolen a few glances at Yixing whenever Yixing wasn’t looking straight at him. “I’ve got some letters for you,” Baekhyun says, placing the letters on the table.

“They’re not all from me though,” he quickly adds as Yixing’s eyes shoot up at Baekhyun at the sight of the pile.

“My friends love you, too. A lot even,” Baekhyun explains, cursing himself inwardly. If any of his members knew he said something this cheesy, he’d probably spend the rest of his career sleeping on the couch.

Too embarrassed of what he’s just blurted out, Baekhyun shoves the album he’s been handed back down his bag, bows Yixing goodbye and darts towards the exit. In retrospect, attending this fan meeting isn’t such a genius plan. It did sound like one when he set it in motion though.

Exhausted, he passes out in his hotel room and doesn’t wake up until a couple of hours later. Baekhyun heads back to the airport with a mixture of inexplicable emotions. A part of him is bothered that Zhang Yixing did not for a split second suspect him. He went along with it as if Byun Baekhyun was truly just some Korean exchange student meeting him for the first time.

His flight is delayed for almost two hours, and boredom is truly testing Baekhyun’s patience. Flopping down the couch in the waiting area, Baekhyun heaves a loud sigh. He truly hates himself for complicating things and overthinking the situation, but he can’t really help himself. Baekhyun observes the people around him, counts the number of ATM boots, reads anything that is within his own level of Mandarin. He does the silliest things to while away the time.

He’s tempted to gate-crash Yixing’s after party or whatever is on his schedule and give him a big hug, taking the mic from the MC and just announce to the world that Yixing is his. Baekhyun cringes at his own thoughts and shifts to a less dramatized scenario. Anything would suffice at this point, even Yixing whispering Baekhyun’s name would have been a moment he’d be happy to die with.

“Passengers booked on flight BX 0710 to Seoul please proceed to gate 7 to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Thank you.”

The sudden announcement pulls Baekhyun out of his stupor. Baekhyun stumbles forward, almost landing on his face. He walks towards his gate, fishing his ticket and passport out of his bag. Baekhyun freezes in his spot as the bits of Yixing’s handwriting flashes across his eyes. Baekhyun pulls the album out, carefully examining the message written beneath Yixing’s signature he did not see in his haste to get away just then.

The feeling is mutual, B ;) Love you x

As if that wasn’t enough of a surprise, Baekhyun is even more taken aback when he sees a familiar someone in jeans and a grey hoodie with half his face covered walking towards him. He naturally takes Baekhyun’s hand and slips his fingers into his.

“Well, hello there,” Yixing says in his heavenly voice with a half smirk Baekhyun can still see despite the face mask.

Baekhyun’s heart skips a bit, colour rushes to his cheeks. Baekhyun blinks, feeling like he’s awoken from some sort of trance. The end of the world is cancelled, the earth is still spinning on its axis, and life— well life is all good again.

#baekxing #yixing #baekhyun #fanfiction #i wrote this in 2 nights-- who am i?#3288 words

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winters-blue-children · 7 years

Text

Maybe Just Memories - AO3

Dennis has a new life in North Dakota. As a rule, he doesn't think about the things he left behind. But news from Dee that Mac has since moved on, leads to a painful revelation that Dennis may have made the biggest mistake of his life.

“I can’t believe you haven’t crashed and burned with this dad thing yet. I really thought this kid got the short end of the stick with you as a father.”

Dennis snorts into his phone. Usually he’d be quick to take offense, especially with his sister. But the truth is, he’s a bit surprised himself. It hasn’t been easy, and he’s definitely made a few mistakes along the way. The learning curve is steep. Half his days are spent yanking his hair out, wondering what the hell he’s even doing in fucking North Dakota. The other half are spent sharing truly tender, heartwarming moments with his son. And he’s pretty sure he can’t get that anywhere else, so… it’s all worth it in the end.

“You need to send me more pictures. I want to see my nephew.”

Dennis grins, though Dee can’t see it. But he’s thinking back to the day he spent with Brian Jr in the park just a few days ago. He’s got some great photos on his phone of Brian on the swings with the biggest smile on his face. “Yeah I’ll send you some pics soon,” he says softly.

There’s a pause on the other end. “Thanks Dennis,” Dee eventually replies.

Dennis knows that tone. He’s known Dee for forty years, and every damn day for most of their lives, he’d wake up and relentlessly mock his sister, all the while knowing that their relationship is not one that can be easily explained or understood. But Dee knows him too.

“You miss me?” Dennis says it like a joke. Dee knows it’s more than that.

“Of course not, you turd.” Dee’s voice is harsh and mocking over the phone, but the familiarity makes Dennis smile, which of course, was the point all along.

“How’s the gang?”

“Same old, same old.” Dee tells him, the same thing she says every time they talk on the phone. Charlie and Frank relentlessly deal with Charlie’s ongoing Waitress Fiasco. Mac and Dee keep the bar running. It seems Paddy’s didn’t need him as much as he thought it did. The arrogant, egotistic side of him half hoped it might crumble to pieces after he left Philly.

“How’s Mac?”

Dee pauses again and Dennis fucking hates her for it. If she were there he’d threaten to slap her in the teeth.

“Same old Mac.”

“Really?” Dennis swears there isn’t a hitch in his voice or anything. He’s not eager to know about the guy, that’s for sure. “Nothing new?”

“I actually haven’t seen him around much lately.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, he’s... been busy...”

“Busy with what?” Dennis demands, as he tries to keep his voice even. “I thought you said the gang was same old, same old?”

Dee sighs softly on the other end. “He’s been seeing someone, okay?”

Dennis’ heart sinks heavily into the pit of his stomach. A bit of bile might have even splashed into his throat and he’s suddenly grateful that he had already been sitting. “Seeing someone?” He asks hoarsely. “Is it serious?”

“It’s only been a couple of weeks, but… Mac seems to like him and… I don’t know, I didn’t want to tell you. I--I know how weird it must be for you and--”

“Weird?” Dennis’ voice cracks horribly but he chuckles and hopes Dee didn’t catch it. “Why would it be weird? Good for him, I say. It’s about damn time.”

“Dennis, you don’t have to--”

“No, I mean it. I’m serious, good for him. Good for him… about damn time.” He realizes he’d just repeated himself an awful lot, and he curses his sister for knowing him too damn well. And then he suddenly really needs to get off the phone with her because his mind is being bombarded with images of Mac with a buff, handsome, well-endowed man with excellent taste in culinary cuisine and damn it it’s not supposed to hurt this badly so he blinks rapidly and tries to think fast. “You know what, I gotta go. I--I just remembered I’m supposed to read to Brian Jr before bed and it is definitely past his bedtime.”

“Dennis, it’s nine thirty--”

“No. No, no, here’s it’s actually eight thirty--” Fuck that actually hurts his argument. “You know what, I gotta go, I’ll--I’ll talk to you later, Dee.”

“Dennis--”

“I’ll send you those pictures--”

“Please don’t--”

“Bye!” Dennis slams his thumb over the end call button and hopes his voice didn’t actually sound as hysterical to Dee as it did to his own ears. It probably did.

Fuck.

Dennis closes his eyes and lets his head drop into his hands.

It’s not supposed to hurt this badly. But it does. Because he’s remembering warm brown eyes and strong hands and the smell of stupid fucking Drakkar Noir--and suddenly, it’s like everything he’d repressed for the past three months all comes rushing back at once--and god it hurts.

Three months. Three long months since he’d seen Mac’s face, or even heard his voice, because for some fucked up reason Dennis can’t bring himself to answer the phone whenever Mac called him. Like there’s this awful, cynical mental block that causes him to ignore every call, telling--lying to himself that it’s just an inconvenient time and he’d call him back later. Though he never did. And the days pushed to weeks and turned to months. And eventually Mac stopped calling.

Dennis takes out his phone again. He scrolls through the few contacts he has and almost chokes when he sees the name. His thumb hovers over it, shaking. It would be so easy--

He’s never known intimacy like what he shared with Mac. They were always more than friends. Crossing that line again and again only to jump back behind it before they go too far. And now Dennis just really wants to see Mac. See him and touch him and hear him. At least the last one is possible.

His thumb hits the call button and he presses his phone against his ear. The line trills over and over. Pick up, pick up, pick up, you son of a bitch. With each unanswered ring, Dennis feels his heart sink deeper in his chest. He wonders if this is how Mac felt each time his calls went unanswered.

Dennis drops his head and the phone slips from his fingers, landing softly on the carpet.

He doesn’t want to think about why Mac might be ignoring his call. His heart aches and his eyes burn. He remembers kisses that taste like whiskey. Every lost moment they shared over the years comes back. So many times when he would pretend he didn’t notice the way Mac would look at him when he thought he wasn’t looking. And whenever Mac’s lips would part to say something Dennis didn’t have the strength to hear so he walked away instead. He remembers the way his breath would catch in his throat, burn like acid on his tongue, so he pulled back. But the distance never seemed enough. And it only got harder when Mac finally came out and stayed out. So Dennis kept pulling, kept distancing, kept running until he’s sixteen hundred miles away.

And maybe this time, he’s gone too far.

He can't get the sick feeling out of his stomach. Every last shred of denial that he’d held onto and deluded himself into believing disappears like smoke. And he can’t deny it anymore. He misses Mac. He misses the days when they couldn’t go an hour without checking in with each other. He misses their monthly dinners, the one night a month when they would go out to a nice restaurant and enjoy each other’s company under the guise of simply splurging on themselves. He misses the way Mac always knew how to make him laugh.

He finds himself yearning even the annoying aspects of Mac’s personality that he’d long convinced himself he hated. Like when Mac would act the nagging, bossy wife who complained endlessly, but would still clean up after him and make sure he eats every meal. Or when Dennis would rage and Mac would look at him like some lovesick puppy that got smacked on the nose with a newspaper. But he wouldn’t leave. Because Mac would never leave him of his own accord.

All these things that Dennis didn’t let himself think about in the past few months.

And now he can’t stop wondering how Mac is doing without him. Who is this new man Mac is seeing? Has Mac replaced him already? With a newer, younger model that does everything Dennis did for him, except better? The thoughts and images he sees in his mind’s eye are worse than not knowing.

Dennis calls Mac four more times over the next three hours with no answer. So he’s left to stew in his own rage and self pity, all the while cursing some faceless man who’s stolen his best friend from him. Can he even call Mac that anymore? When they haven’t spoken a word in three months.

Hours later, when Mandy gets back from dinner at her parents’ with Brian Jr carefully balanced on her hip--yes, of course he was lying to Dee--and sees him sitting motionless on the couch, he doesn’t answer the probing questions on her face, nor does she mention his red rimmed eyes. She gives him a sympathetic smile and goes to settle their son down for bed before retiring to her bedroom. He’s grateful she lets it go without question.

Mac would have pestered him until he finally gave in and spilled. But Mandy isn’t Mac. And Dennis doesn’t want her to be.

Their house is silent when Dennis’ phone finally starts ringing. He looks at the name on the screen and thinks for a second he might be imagining it. But he answers with a rough “hello,” and finally hears the voice he hasn’t heard in three long months.

“Hey… Dennis.”

Dennis hears the hesitation in the other man’s voice and his heart constricts painfully in his chest. “Mac…”

“I was… surprised to see your missed calls.”

“Hi, um… how have you been?” Dennis asks shakily. No word for three months and that’s the best he can come up with on the spot. He wouldn’t be surprised if Mac hangs up on him.

“Good,” Mac answers shortly. “And you?”

Dennis isn’t used to Mac with short, curt answers. There’s uncertainty in the other man’s voice and it mirrors the fear and desperation that weighs heavily on his own chest. “Good. I’m--I’m good,” he stutters nervously. “Uh… things are really different in North Dakota. I swear it’s worse than the suburbs outside Philly.” He chuckles softly as he briefly relives those memories. But it’s as short lived as their little stint playing house because he doesn’t get an answer from the other end of the line.

“Um, this… this definitely took some getting used to. You know I don’t know shit about being a dad. You’d probably be better at it than I am, to be honest. I kinda… kinda wish you were doing this with me.” There’s a heavy beat of silence as Dennis’ voice trails off. He bites his lip when the magnitude of his rambling hits him full force. “I’m sorry I never answer your calls,” he blurts out. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Mac eventually says softly. “Why’d you call me now?”

“I wanted to hear your voice.”

“Wow. That almost sounds sweet.”

Dennis cringes at the bitterness in the other man’s voice. It was never this hard with Mac. But now they’re broken and he doesn’t know how to fix it. They never resolved things between them. It was all left unsaid and that was Dennis’ fault and he knows that now. But what can he do?

“Why are you whispering?” There’s nothing but silence on the other end of the line. Dennis trembles as he tries to keep it together. “Are you with him?”

“Did Dee tell you?”

Dennis swallows, taking that for the unspoken answer it is. “Who is he?”

He hears Mac sigh softly. “Just some guy that came into Paddy’s one night. We started talking and just… kind of hit it off.”

“You like him?”

Mac chuckles into his ear. “Yeah, of course I like him. I wouldn’t be going out with him if I didn’t.”

“You love him?”

There’s a heavy pause before Mac answers. “It’s a bit early for that. And anyway... love kind of has a tendency to bite me in the ass.”

Dennis was wrong when he didn’t think it could hurt worse than it did. “Mac...”

“Look, I get why you left,” Mac interrupts him. “You wanted to be dad, maybe you needed to be a dad. And I’m so fucking happy for you, as long as you’re happy. And I know that it’s partially my fault you left, I know I came on strong--”

“Mac--”

“And yeah, it was really hard at first. I missed you so much. I stayed at Dee’s place for a while after you left, and may have overstayed my welcome. I cleaned the hell out of her shitty apartment, ungrateful bitch still kicked me out.”

A small grin tugs at Dennis’ lips as he remembers how Mac would go on a vicious cleaning spree whenever he’d get upset. And usually that would be because Dennis did something to upset him.

“I miss you too,” Dennis says genuinely. There’s a brief but wonderful feeling of relief upon finally saying those words out loud.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls?”

Dennis forces a tight, faked smile even though Mac can’t see it. “It was just... too hard to talk to you.” It’s such an inadequate answer, even to his own ears. He’s holding the broken pieces of their friendship in his hands, and all he can say is that ‘it was too hard’.

“I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to see you,” Dennis admits. “I just couldn’t do it.”

“For three months?”

Dennis closes his eyes painfully. There were so many times he’d been tempted to answer. But it was easier to not know about Mac’s life. After all the years--decades--they spent inseparable, it would have been too hard to know Mac was existing without him. A clean break was his coward’s way out. But the reality is, he couldn’t erase Mac from his mind any more than he could erase him from his heart. He’s stuck around like a bruise that won’t heal.

“I’m so sorry,” Dennis whispers. Though he can’t remember the last time he uttered those words to another person, he’s never meant them more in his life. “I wish I could…”

“Don’t do that,” Mac murmurs, cutting him off. “I know you’ve got a good thing going, with your son… Dee’s kept me updated,” he explains. “I know you don’t regret that.”

“Yeah,” Dennis agrees softly, though there are other things he does regret. He ignores the way his insides twist painfully as he cradles the phone against his ear. “But I still miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

Mac sounds like he’s saying it reluctantly, and Dennis can’t help but grin as he pictures the exasperation on the other man’s face.

“So how’s the apartment?”

“It’s fine.”

Mac probably shrugged his shoulders. The other man’s voice is still barely above a whisper, and Dennis doesn’t want to think about why.

“I moved into your bedroom.”

“Yeah?” Dennis grins, thinking about Mac living in his old room. “The bigger room is nice, huh?”

“Dude, I’m still pissed at you, man.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of pissed at myself,” Dennis says truthfully. “You there now?”

Mac gives a small cough. “Um… no,” he says lightly. “I’m… I’m at his place. He's asleep.”

Dennis imagines this must be what it’s like to be stabbed in the heart with a steak knife.

He never thought he’d see the day where he’s living his life in the middle of nowhere North Dakota while Mac moves on happily with some guy. And fucking waits until his boyfriend is asleep before calling him. His chest throbs painfully, and his lungs feel like they’re filling with fluid as it suddenly gets very hard to breathe. But he swallows down his bitter jealousy and tries to keep his voice steady.

“What’s his name?”

Mac hesitates, like he knows Dennis doesn't actually want to hear the name of the man he’s fucking. Like he knows Dennis is only doing it to torture himself.

“Nate.”

“He better be good to you,” Dennis jokes, as a strained chuckle is torn from his throat. “Don’t make me come back to Philly to kick his ass.”

“He’s good to me,” Mac says softly.

Dennis takes a shuddered breath. His jealousy burns so bright, it hurts. “He ever take you out to Guigino’s?”

“Nah, man. That’s our place.”

He only meant it as a joke. A light jest between friends. But Mac’s response really hits home. Guigino’s was their place. Dennis misses those nights out more than he could have imagined. It all seems like a lifetime ago. What happened to them?

“Are you happy?” Dennis suddenly asks. “Does he make you happy?”

“Yeah, he does.”

“Happier than I did?”

Mac laughs softly. “I'm not sure that's possible.”

“Mac--”

“Look, Dennis… it’s all in the past now. And I'm okay with that. Really, I am. I'm happy, and if you're happy, that's all that matters to me. I’ll still see you, man. You should visit on holidays. And bring your kid, I wanna meet him, for real this time. Maybe I can teach him some sweet karate moves! It’ll be so great! And… you know I love you, dude… I’ll always love you. But... I needed to move on... and I have. So... don't worry about me, okay?”

Dennis is not okay. Not even close. When this call ends, Mac is going to go back into the arms of some man Dennis has never met. This guy gets to love him, and hold him, and take him out, and fill the empty hole in his life that Dennis left behind.

And suddenly, Dennis wishes he had never left. He wishes he had never walked out of Mac’s life, taking the coward’s way out. If he had just found some way to make it work, maybe he could have spared himself this grief. He can’t stop remembering the moments they shared. They play in his mind, over and over. He couldn’t count on his hands the number of times he’d fallen asleep while watching Predator with Mac, only to wake up with the other man’s arms wrapped around him. He’d blink his eyes blearily, as the other man slept. And as his heart hammered in his chest, he would wonder how far they could keep pushing until neither of them could deny the truth any longer.

He regrets not facing that truth sooner.

Maybe he had fallen in love with his best friend. Or maybe he’d been in love with him the entire time. And now, it’s just wishful thinking that maybe he could go back and savor those moments with Mac.

As Dennis attempts to pull himself together enough to form a coherent sentence, he hears commotion on the other end of the line. He can’t quite make out the words of the other person who speaks, but Mac’s voice is clear.

“Hey, I’m just on the phone.”

“Yeah. Yeah, just talkin’ to an old friend.”

“I’ll be right in. Go on.”

“Okay.”

“Hey, Dennis?”

Dennis swallows the lump in his throat. He blinks away the tears that he hadn’t realized had fallen from his lashes. Soft, shallow breaths barely hide the choked little sob that breaks through, but it’s enough. “Yeah?” He says hoarsely, as he presses a hand to his face, trying to contain himself for just long enough to get through the rest of this call with his dignity intact.

“I gotta go, man.”

“Yeah,” Dennis murmurs. “Yeah, I figured. It’s pretty late.”

“Hey, I’ll talk to you later though, yeah?”

“Of course. Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, bye.”

“Bye, Mac.”

Dennis is still trying to quench the tears as he hears the line click on the other side. This isn’t supposed to be his life. He’s not supposed to be a sobbing mess, pining over his old roommate--the white trash, piece of lower class shit from the worst neighborhood in South Philly.

His best friend. The best guy he knows.

But that is his life now. Dennis is a fucking mess, and the only person who can fix it is over a thousand miles away.

How the fuck did this happen?

Dennis misses Mac like a severed limb. The emptiness is all-consuming and absolutely crushing. He takes a shuddered breath and angrily wipes the tears from his face. Dennis Reynolds doesn’t cry. He certainly doesn’t back down without a fight.

God help him, Mac is going to rue the day he thought he could ever replace Dennis in his life.

Dennis grips his phone tightly in his hand as he runs through ideas in his head. He’s already planning on buying the cheapest, earliest flight to Philly. He’s going to make it work. He will.

It’s time to go home.

#IASIP #MacDennis #MacDennis fic #my fics #MacDennis fic exchange

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thelazyperfection-blog · 6 years

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&amp;amp;lt;strong&amp;amp;gt;United NYC Half Marathon Race Recap&amp;amp;lt;/strong&amp;amp;gt;

My newest post has been published on http://thelazy.me/2018/05/16/united-nyc-half-marathon-race-recap/

United NYC Half Marathon Race Recap

It has been almost two months since I ran the United NYC Half Marathon and I have been avoiding writing this post. I think I was sitting around waiting for the perfect words to come to me to describe this race. I’ve decided that that will never happen so I better just write my thoughts– eloquent or not! Prepare yourself– this is a long one!

I entered the lottery for this race two years in a row and got a place last December. It turned into a road trip with a few friends and a couple of strangers (who turned into friends!). I began my training on a high note in January before attempting to fight off some shin splints in February, going on vacation in March and forgetting to exercise at all, and then just kind of not caring about running after returning home from said vacation.

I was still so excited to run this race regardless of the outcome because I truly love New York City. I’ve been there many times and the city holds so many unforgettable memories including so many of my dad. I never actually went to NYC with him, but I remember texting him a picture of the Brooklyn Bridge on my old flip phone when I was there with my mom. He loved the hustle and bustle of people everywhere and every time I visit NYC I think of him.

Before the race, I started to get a little panicky as I thought about how slow I might be, but thanks to my friends reminding me that I needed to look around and enjoy it and stop stressing, I was able to change my mindset.

Saturday morning we headed to the race expo where they had volunteers ready to take your pictures. How awesome is that right?! It would’ve been more awesome if any of the pictures had been in focus but then what kind of memory would that be? There are probably 20 blurry group shots… 0 clear ones!

Race pickup was mostly a breeze as we got our bibs and shirts. Somehow my bib scanned that I already picked up my shirt and I got a little annoyed as I told the guy, “I literally just came from there 10 seconds ago. How could I have gotten a shirt?!” I love that Cathy captured this exact moment.

The night before the race ended up as a slight disaster as I realized that it was going to be really cold and I only brought shorts and a tank to wear. Don’t worry though, I brought a backup outfit of a second tank and another pair of shorts–lol! Saturday night at 8PM had me trying on everyone’s clothes– and I mean everyone’s! I ended up wearing one of the guy’s long sleeve shirts over my tank top and Cathy’s headband because I didn’t even pack one of those. I am usually an excellent packer and this was the first time in as long as I can remember that I didn’t make a list. That will never, ever happen again. I was a hot mess, I tell you!

Race morning began with some instant oatmeal, coffee and a banana at the literal crack of dawn. Maria, Michael & I were running and needed to check our bags by 6:50 and get into our corrals by 7. Taking off my sweatpants and passing in my bag was a really sad moment because I couldn’t believe how cold it was! (My face is just ridiculous in this pic…I have no words)

I’ve run some decent size races, but nothing like this one. Only the runners were allowed near bag check and then we had to go through security including metal detectors surrounded by police officers. There were helicopters circling above and honestly, I was really impressed with how seriously they took the runners safety.

I lost Michael and Maria and headed to my corral where I stood shaking like a leaf for an entire hour. I waited in line for the porta potty and wanted to hide from the wind until the start, but thought the rest of the line wouldn’t approve of that choice. I stood as close to the strangers around me as I could without seeming like a creep as I tried to warm up. Time inched by slower than I knew possible as every part of me went numb. I was pretty sure I shook all my energy out before the race even started!

In true form, I was in a porta potty when the gun went off for my corral which made me laugh. I took my time and headed out across the line down the streets of Brooklyn. (I’m to the left centre with the shorts and bright knee socks!)

It didn’t take me even one kilometre to realize that I changed all my settings on my watch to something really weird. I had turned off the elapsed time apparently and instead had it beeping every 1.4kms and then beeping again after 3 minutes but never showing how long I had been running. The buildings instantly interfered with my pace so my hot mess standing was still going strong!

I knew my pace wasn’t going to be awesome anyhow, so I laughed and stuck to my plan to enjoy the race.

And boy, did I enjoy it.

As we ran over the Manhattan Bridge, I looked to my right at the Queensboro Bridge and to my left at the Brooklyn Bridge with the Statue of Liberty off in the distance. In the centre of the bridge there were police officers high fiving runners and cheering us on while keeping their eyes moving as they watched everything around us. It was such a beautiful picture to me that my eyes welled up with tears for the first time that day.

As we ran down the other side of the bridge and into Manhattan I couldn’t believe I was running here. It felt like such a privilege and I found myself saying aloud, “This is the best thing I’ve ever decided to do!” (I realize it’s probably actually not, but in that moment it really felt like it!)

I tossed my gloves somewhere in Chinatown and regretted it not too long after as the momentary sun decided to hide again. We ran along the water for awhile before making a left turn toward Times Square.

When we made that turn in my head I could hear my friend, Lisa, reminding me to really look around and enjoy every moment so I did the opposite of what you’re supposed to do in a race: I stopped. I put my head up and did a full circle taking in the skyscrapers, the water, and the sky before looking straight ahead and starting to run again.

The crowds grew even larger the closer we got to Times Square and then we got to run through Times Square on our way to Central Park where a huge screen was displayed showing us running by.

Central Park was as hilly as I remembered but I love Central Park so I tried to enjoy the beauty of it since it was my only chance to see it this trip! The volunteers in the park were my favourite because they were ridiculously encouraging. They weren’t half-hearted in their cheers as they told you exactly how far you had and that they knew you could do it. (I hate those people who say “You’re almost there!” when you have like 8k to go! Liars, I tell ya!)

As we got close to the finish the sides were lined with flags and throngs of people! There was no arch for the finish so it felt a little strange as I wondered if it was really the end, but I spotted the President of the New York Road Runners across the line so I figured the race had to be over. I gave him a high five as I headed to collect my medal, mylar blanket and snack bag.

I dug out my phone which had been on airplane mode and facetimed Anson for a few minutes. I was on the phone for five minutes as I walked when it suddenly shut off. I knew I had a terrible battery but since it said I had 80% I thought it would be okay. I left it for a few minutes as I collected my bag from bag check and then turned it back on again. I needed to try to find everyone else and knew my phone was a necessity!

My phone turned back on and had a mere 10% battery left. I saw a ton of messages flowing in as I walked as fast as I could out of the park. It was at least a kilometre to get out of the exit chute from the race and I still couldn’t feel my legs from the cold, so it took a little while. I headed for the Starbucks across from Columbus Circle but as soon as I got there I knew there was no way any of my friends would bother trying to get in with the hoards of people crammed inside! I saw a text come in from Cathy saying they were in the mall so I went in the closest entrance to see if I saw them. I didn’t and decided to head back to Starbucks and stand outside. I sent a text to Cathy that said, “I am outside Starbucks,” but as soon as I hit send, my phone shut off for good. I had no idea if the text went through. I remembered seeing another text that said something about being near a statue so I headed back across the street to see if they were by those statues. My texts had been coming in fast and furiously in random order with some messages from days earlier appearing so I really wasn’t sure what was actually relevant!

I made my way over to the statues near the Park and stood on the curb to try and get a little taller so I could see. There were tons of people and it wasn’t long before I realized I was never going to find them even if they were there! I asked a couple near me if they had an iPhone I could borrow so I could text one of my friends. As soon as I asked, it dawned on me that I know about one phone number total and texting my husband in Canada wasn’t going to be super helpful. Then I realized that for the first time ever I had written an emergency contact on the back of my race bib and I had chosen Cathy’s number to write down. I unpinned my bib, turned it over and used the borrowed phone to text Cathy. She told me that my Starbucks text had gone through miraculously so I headed that way to meet her. I might have done everything wrong for that race, but writing someone’s (who was actually with me!) number on my race bib was one of the smartest things I’ve ever done!

I went to greet Cathy with a huge smile on my face and I’m pretty sure shocked her with how much I loved the race. We headed over to the mall to meet the rest of the group where we snapped some pics and I put on some warmer clothes.

Then we all headed out on the longest journey ever to find brunch. We mistakenly went into an extremely healthy restaurant for a few moments. I was not thrilled with what I was I was seeing as I looked around. Thankfully, we left and found a diner with what I consider to be real brunch food.

The NYC half marathon was my second slowest half time ever, but my favourite race by a huge margin. I appreciated each moment and the fact that I was able to be there! I looked around and truly took in my surroundings and for the first time in a race, I did not have one negative thought about myself while running. My only regret is that I neglected to bring warmer clothes but hey, it all worked out!

P.S. I would recommend this race to anyone. Everything was so well organized, the volunteers were amazing, the hydration stations were well marked and plentiful on course and while it was rather hilly–the course was fantastic! Huge thanks to the New York Road Runners for putting on a fantastic event. Thank you also to Cathy and Erik for all these pictures! I really do get by with a little help from my friends!

#NYC half marathon #race recap #race recaps #Running

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