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byeomtori · 6 months

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the only exception | beomgyu x reader

pairing: beomgyu x female reader

content: love at first sight au, summer love thingy, lots of reference to paramore's the only exception and txt's our summer, pda

tw: mentions of fight and blood

words count: 12k

notes: reposting because of high demand (lol)

preview:

you were not the type to believe in the existence of love. to you, there was no such a thing as true love; no such a thing as unwavering, unbreakable, and unparalleled fondness and devotion for someone. to you, people love to get something they desire in return — money, power, status, pride. your parents were a living prove of that

the day you were old enough to understand the lack of love and affection between your parents to each other, and to you; you swore to never grow that feeling to anyone — family, friends, partner. anyone. because to you, love did not exist.

you were content living that way for years, not happy, but content.

the absence of love in your life protected you from attachment, heartbreak, sorrow — those negative emotions that you deemed unnecessary and unworthy to be sitting inside of you.

life was okay without love, you thought.

until you had to spend the rest of your summer with a distant relative whom you've never met in your entire life, in a small town with an ocean view, where fate had brought you a boy whose eyes shine brighter than any stars in the night sky.

and maybe, just maybe, love does exist.

a comforting smell of freshly brewed chamomile tea wafting in the air as you make your way inside the unfamiliar home — the one you will be spending three months in because your parents are way too busy flying around across the globe to be taking care of you.

"come on in, y/n." the woman in front of you speaks, her voice soft, the type of voice a kindergarten teacher would have.

maybe she was one, you have no idea. in fact, you know nothing about the woman standing in a yellow dress in front of you. she is pretty, even though it is evident her aging is slowly creeping up to her from the way her skin wrinkles on the corner of her eyes when she smiles. but to you, she is pretty- the mother-like kind of pretty. the kind of pretty that makes you feel warm inside.

but again, you know nothing about her. have never seen her in your entire life. never even heard her name from any of your parents until today.

aunty sue.

that was the name your mom had told you in the car this morning when she was dropping you off at the train station, she couldn't even make some time to drive you straight here, and telling you the woman is a distant cousin of hers whom she hasn't met in a long time. and that was also the name the said woman had introduced herself to you.

"do you want some tea, honey? or anything else?" she asks, making her way into the kitchen as you trail behind her like a little lost puppy.

"tea is fine," you reply.

leaning against the kitchen counter, you roam your eyes around the room. some parts of the walls are painted in pastel green while another part is decorated with a plaid wallpaper with the same color — just a shade darker. the counter tops are full of kitchen appliances, cookbooks, sunflower patterned dishes, and freshly washed vegetables along with some other things. there are random little trinkets on the windowsill — a wooden carved statue of a cat, a line of herbs in old tomato cans, and a sun catcher being hung at the corner of the window making tiny little rainbows refracting inside the kitchen.

the furniture of the dining area does not match with each other — one wooden chair with a striking blue cushion, a yellow wicker chair and another two plastic chairs in white. though everything is mismatch, it doesn't look weird. it feels right, even.

it feels like home.

very different from your house where nothing is ever out of place. the countertops made of slick white marble, picked personally by your mother, are always shiny as if no one has ever touched it. truthfully speaking, they kind of are. no one is ever cooking in that kitchen. you bet the only stains that has dirtied that counter was that one time you spilled your morning coffee on it. the stove, it looks brand new compared to the one in front of you right now which looks like it has been in service for more than a decade with how rusty it looks.

everything in your house is perfect to the tee. a façade that is what you like to think — to mask the family's imperfections.

a house that never felt like a home.

"i'm going to keep my stuff in my room first, i'll be right back," you say as you pull your luggage with you.

"sure, honey. your room is the second door on the right."

honey.

not even your own mother has ever called you that.

you haul your bag with much difficulty up the stairs, cursing yourself mentally for overpacking, before making your way to the said door. the room is spacious, not as big as your own room back in the city, but still enough to fit a queen-sized bed in the middle, a study desk by the window and a two doors wardrobe in the corner.

the glass sliding doors that lead to the balcony are being left slightly open, the warm summer breeze blowing the white sheer curtain. leaving your luggage by the bed, you make your way over to the balcony — pushing open the sliding door wider as you step out into the outdoor.

to say you are astonished is an understatement. the view in front of you is breath-taking — the house is located on top of the hill, overlooking the neighborhood and the ocean, the season's bright sunlight is making the scenery even more spectacular.

you breath in the air, inhaling the smell of the blue sea with your eyes closed.

there is someone, other than aunty sue, downstairs — you can clearly hear the sound of a male voice which is a little bit too loud to be ignored, talking to the woman in the kitchen about how his mom had forced him to deliver cake to all the houses up the hill in the middle of the day.

"y/n, honey! are you done? come downstairs, please." opening your eyes, you let out a soft sigh as you walk back inside, keeping your eyes on the ocean outside as you close the glass doors.

it's okay, you have the whole three months here. you tell yourself as you make your way back into the kitchen, the guest is still going on about how his little rant.

"i mean, don't get me wrong. i love summer, but to deliver all of them under the sun? god i felt like-.." and as he turns to face you who is standing at the entrance of the kitchen, your breath hitch in your throat.

you're not sure is it the iridescent illumination from the sun catcher beaming on him, or the glow of his skin that is glistening with sweats from biking under the summer rays, or the sparks in his eyes as he stares at you;

but oh god, he is beautiful.

not pretty, but beautiful. the angel-like kind of beautiful. the kind of beautiful that would make people turn their heads. the kind of beautiful that would make you steal glances at him if you were to sit in front of him in a train. the kind of beautiful that makes the ocean view you saw earlier lose its' price.

the once in a lifetime kind of beautiful.

"y/n, this is beomgyu, his mom owns a bakery down the hill."

"oh, this is the girl that you've been telling me about!" he says excitedly as he makes his way over to you, "she's pretty."

and you almost choked on your saliva. how can he be saying things like that so casually?!

"hi, i'm choi beomgyu," he says, extending out his hand for a handshake. "aunty sue told me a lot about you so i'm kind of excited to be your friend, that is if you want, of course."

you look down to his hand, lifting your own as you slowly put it in his. "im y/n,"

though it feels rough, his hand still holds a certain kind of warmth that makes you feel secured. you can feel calluses on his fingertips, too. does he play the guitar?

you're not even sure why you feel bashful under his gaze. you don't understand the warm fuzzy feeling you're getting when he keeps his hand in yours. you don't get why your heart is beating so fast when he says your name, the syllabus rolling perfectly on his tongue like it was made for him and only him to say.

"well then, i look forward to hanging out with you, y/n."

the conscious side of your brain is already blaring an alarm, telling you to turn him down, telling you that no, you don't want to hang out with him. that no, you don't look forward to spending your summer with him.

but despite that, you find yourself nodding to his words. "me too, choi beomgyu."

it has been three days since you have first arrived, and you have concluded that choi beomgyu is a man of his words.

you didn't think much when he told you that he looks forward to hanging out with you, thinking that he was just being nice to a newcomer and to act friendly to you.

because that's all you have ever known — people acting nicely to you.

you remember when you used to associate in a group of girls back in middle school; it was one of the worst times of your life. eleven years old you were so naïve (read: stupid) to realize that those girls were just using you for your unlimited amount of cash — always inviting you to go shopping, forcing you to throw fancy sleepovers — until one day one of them literally had to scream in your face that they were only hanging out with you for your daddy's money.

and since then, you have never tried to befriend anyone and those around you never approached or asked you to hang out, either.

so, it is a surprise to you that choi beomgyu stays true to his words.

yesterday, he had come over early in the morning looking as beautiful as you had remembered the first time you saw him; asking you if you want a little tour of the small town. you had declined, telling him you still had a few things left to unpack, leaving the boy pouting. you had felt slightly bad, just slightly.

you are in the backyard with aunty sue, picking up some ripe tomatoes from the small garden. she told you she has been tending this small part of her backyard for almost seven years now, planting

various kinds of vegetables, using the excuse of she doesn’t like the ones sold in the market, when in reality she just really loves gardening and watching her plants come to live day by day.

“is the tomato that interesting to you?”

you jump in surprise as you hear a low voice speaking next to your ear. turning around, you find a grinning beomgyu looking down at you. he peeks under your straw hat, trying to have a better look at

your face. “you look like a tomato yourself.”

you frown, “what do you mean by that?!”

he bends, hands resting on his knees, now being eye to eye level with you. humming, he continues to study your face.

there is always something about him that never fails to make blood rush to your face. yesterday it was the way he dressed — white sleeveless top tucked messily inside his black jeans. it was simple, nothing outstanding about it but to you, he was breath-taking. and today; it’s the way he’s looking deep into your eyes, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks with every blink.

the rational part of you is telling you to push him aside or to move away, to break the eye contact. but the other part that you have no idea existed inside of you until you met him few days ago, is telling you to keep staring into his sparkling eyes, to play along to whatever little game he has put on.

the rational part of you won as you take a step back, creating a safe distance between your figure and his. you can feel your cheeks flushed, fully blaming it on the warm temperature as you had been

standing under the sun for quite a while now.

“your cheeks are so red, like a tomato.” he giggles, “are you hot?”

you look away from him, hiding your face under your hat as you whisper, “k-kinda…”

he was about to move closer to you again, hand reaching over to your hat, but it stops mid-air when aunty sue is calling over for the both of you. thanking the lord and savior, you quickly make an escape

from him as you walk over to where your aunty is standing with a plate full of freshly cut watermelon in hand.

you sit beside her on the porch, while beomgyu is standing right in front of you. “tell your mom i say thank you for the watermelon,” aunty sue says and the boy just hums, hand reaching down to pick up two pieces of the sliced fruit, handing one over to you.

you thank him quietly and he smiles down at you, “you will never find a watermelon as sweet and juicy as the ones that my grandfather planted.” he boasts, and aunty sue make a sound as what sounds

like she is agreeing with him. “that’s right, mr.choi planted the best watermelon in the country.”

the scorching heat of the sun calls for you to take a bite of the fruit – it is sweet, just like what beomgyu had said. “it’s so good,” you speak under your breath. you’re not sure how he manages to hear what

you said but he did, as the smile on his face grow wider. “right? i told you!”

he waits for you to finish the slice in your hand before handing you another one, all the while still towering in front of you.

“sit down, beomgyu.” your aunty says to him to which the boy just shakes his head. “i’m protecting y/n from the sun,” he replies casually, taking a bite of the watermelon “she looks like a real tomato

right now.”

both you and aunty sue look up to him in sync. he is, indeed, covering you away from the sun — being tall makes it easier for him to shield you away from the direct sunlight of the summer rays but his back

is taking up all the consequences of his action as you can see droplets of sweat forming on of his neck, sliding down to his back.

you glance to aunty sue, a coy smile on her lips. “j-just sit down!” you scold him, pulling him down by his wrist to sit beside you on the wooden veranda.

aunty sue giggles, “talking about tomato, do you want to bring some home, beomgyu?”

he shakes his head, “thanks, aunty sue but no one in that house enjoys eating tomato.”

“but i do want to ask for your permission to steal this cute tomato away from you for the night,” he says as he pokes your cheek with his index finger to which you move slightly away. “my friends are doing a bonfire by the cliff later, i was thinking to bring y/n along.”

you hesitate, gaze moving from his face to your aunty’s. “you can go, y/n. it’s much more fun to hang out with people your age rather than spending time with me,” she ensures you.

you look back to beomgyu, his eyes hopeful as he waits for your answer.

“okay, then.” you finally give in, a wide smile making its’ way across his face.

he stands up, one hand in the pocket of his pants as he bends down to look at your face, again.

“see you tonight then, tomato.”

one conclusion you can come up after spending a good half an hour with choi beomgyu is that he does not have a sense of personal space — not that you mind, at least for now when you are surrounded by unfamiliar teenagers laughing and chattering around the bonfire.

you’ve been stuck to his side since the moment you reached the cliff. it’s not like you are that comfortable with him but out of everyone here, he is the only person you know. despite that, choi beomgyu looks like he is that comfortable with you — hand on the small of your back while walking, wrapping his flannel around your waist so that you won’t get your shorts dirty (when in reality he just doesn’t like the way the other boys are looking at the exposed skin of your legs), sitting too close you can feel his shoulder brushing against yours as he moves.

truthfully, you would have been so annoyed. but this is choi beomgyu. he is choi beomgyu and you have no idea what’s about him that makes you feel so protected. even now when he has his hand on top of your right knee while he’s talking to his friends, you don’t feel irritated.

it feels right. he feels right.

“beomgyu!” someone calls him over from behind. he sighs, “i’m gonna go talk to him for a while, you’ll be alright here, right?” he asks to which you just nod your head.

what is he expecting you to say answer? no, don’t leave me, beomgyu. as if you would ever say that out loud.

the warmth of his palm leaves your skin as he gets up, making his way over to the blue-haired boy that was calling for him. your let your eyes linger on him, watching as he gives the guy a fist bump before

both of their gaze move to you and you quickly look away.

“you’re y/n, right?” a guy who is sitting in front of you speaks.

you nod, “hueningkai, right?” you ask, remembering his name after beomgyu had introduced you to him earlier. and you glad you did from the way his eyes lit up when you get his name right. years of

attending charity events and parties where you were forced to talk to random people by your parents has thought you to imprint people’s names on your mind easily.

“heard you’re from the city. how is the life there? i really want to live there someday, it’s really boring here,” he pouts. “the nearest mall is like, miles away.”

“i think it’s fun here,”

“yeah? and why is that?”

you go quiet for a moment. why is that? — there are various reasons why you think the town is not as boring as hueningkai believes. for an example, the ocean. there is no beach in the city, the nearest one being a whole hour drive away. the air here is cleaner too, not as polluted with vehicles smokes as the city. the weather here is nice too; though it’s summer, the heat here isn’t as bad as it is back

home.

and as your mind try to come up with another reason why you think the town is fun, your eyes move over to the brown-haired boy laughing along to whatever joke the blue-haired one has said to him.

even in the darkness of the night — the only source of light coming from the fire in front of you, he is still beautiful. the way he throws his head back as he laughs, the way his eyes are sparkling under the

night sky, the dimple that appears on his cheek as he smiles.

“it’s fun because there’s beomgyu, right?”

you turn your attention to the boy sitting across from you, his eyes on the same person you were staring few seconds ago.

“do you like him?” hueningkai asks, out of sudden.

“w-what?” you look at him, bewildered. “i don’t know what context of like you are talking about, but he is a good fr-…”

friend.

you so badly wanted to call beomgyu your friend, but you don’t even have the slightest idea of what a friend is — you never had one, at least not a real one. all through your school years, you have never

really had someone you can call as friend. sure, you talked to your classmates, but they felt more like acquaintances than friends. and you never bothered to get close to anyone because you know there

are always something they want in return — money, gifts, invitations to fancy parties, rich kids from your family’s circle to date, the list goes on.

so, you stop yourself from labelling beomgyu in that way. he is not your friend, not after only three days of knowing each other.

“he is a good guy, of course i like him. what kind of person doesn’t like good people?” you say, shifting in your seat to which hueningkai just shrugs his shoulders, “i think he likes yo-…” he stops talking midsentence when someone throws their arm around his neck, holding him in a chokehold.

“taehyun is calling for you,” beomgyu says as he smiles down wickedly at the younger. hueningkai knows his friend is lying but he just rolls his eyes and walks away to where taehyun is sitting.

“let’s go somewhere,” he extends his hand over to you.

“where?”

beomgyu grumbles, “just come.” taking your hand, he pulls you up to your feet.

following him from behind, you have no idea where he is taking you as you both walk further and further away from the group, until you’re climbing down the cliff.

he offers his hand to you, and you gladly accept, “be careful.”

holding your hand in his, he wraps his arm around your waist as he pulls you down to the ground with an ease. the night is pretty chilly compared to the sunlit afternoon earlier, but beomgyu’s hand still

hold a certain kind of warmth. and even though the temperature is low, you still can feel heat rushing up to your face when he keeps his arm around your waist even after you’ve set your feet safely on the

sandy beach — you’re glad it is dark, you don’t think you want him coming up with another vegetable related nickname for you.

“i wanted to bring you here yesterday, but you were busy unpacking. and i wanted to do it today too, but you looked so tired from helping aunty sue,” he says. “i know this is not the best time to be coming

here since it’s so dark but i just thought maybe you would want to see the ocean at night too.”

you move your gaze from his face to the moana in front of you. the water is calm, small waves crashing along the shores. no one else is around, only you and him.

you were about to walk over to the water’s edge when you feel beomgyu tugs on your hand gently. “take off your shoes first, pretty girl.” bending down, he wraps his hand around your ankle before

slowly pulling the white alexander mcqueen off of your foot. beomgyu is surprised, to be honest, to the fact that you casually wear a very expensive pair of sneakers to a lame bonfire party. then again,

these shoes probably didn’t cost that much for you.

“all done, you can go now.” he stands up straight again and he can’t help but notice the pink shade decorating your cheeks even in the inky night, “tomato.” he chuckles, pinching your left cheek.

you gently swat his hand away, blushing deeper, before walking to the water again. you smile as you feel the sand seeps through your toes as the waves crash on the shore. turning around to beomgyu, you see him with a soft smile in his face as he watches you from a distance.

“join me,”

and he can’t seem to decline your offer when you’re looking so ethereal underneath the moonlight, a gentle smile on your lips as you move your feet around to play with the wet sand.

abandoning his cheap pair of sneakers beside your expensive ones, he runs over to where you’re standing back facing him. he pretends to push you further to the ocean to which you react faster, shoving him — making him fall into the water with a big splash.

“hey!” he shrieks, quickly getting up on his feet. you take that as a sign for you to run — in which you didn’t manage to escape far enough when you feel his arms circling around your waist before he pulls you down along with him into the water.

“beomgyu!” you whine while splashing more of the salty water towards him while giggling.

and that night, while you both are walking home, soaked from head to toes with your wet clothes sticking disgustingly on your skin, laughing and giggling, you thought; maybe this is what friendship feels like.

“aunty sue, i’m going out for a while!” you call out your aunt in the kitchen as you’re running down the stairs toward the front door.

she peeks her head from the kitchen’s entrance, “where are you going, honey?”

“beomgyu’s mom’s bakery!” you reply, already stepping outside and you failed to catch the tender smile your aunt is throwing your way as you are busy putting on your shoes. “i’ll be back before dinner.”

when you push open the gate of the house, beomgyu is already waiting for you on his bicycle, a hat in his hand as he offers it over to you. “put it on, it’s too sunny.”

you accept with no question, putting the white hat on. it smells like him — like a mixture of frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, and bergamot waters. it smells like summer.

he smells like summer.

beomgyu watches as you put his hat on, holding back his smile to how adorable you look trying to tighten the hat’s straps to fit your head’s size. his hand reaches over to your face, tucking a few strands

of your hair that have come loose from your braids behind your ear. “pretty,” he whispers under his breath.

you look away from his eyes, quickly moving to sit on the backseat of his bicycle, wincing as the exposed skin of your thighs come in contact with the burning metal of the seat.

“sorry, chieko has been out in the sun for a while,” he says, referring to his bike. “you good?”

“yeah,” you shift on the seat, trying to find a comfortable position. “you name your bicycle with a dog’s name?”

he hums as he starts paddling, “my grandfather got this bicycle from a japanese owned shop. the owner used to have this really cute golden retriever by the name chieko, i loved him, hence the name.”

he explains, “is it weird?”

“kinda,” you reply to which he just laugh it off.

it has only been a week of summer break and beomgyu had come up with so many plans for the both of you. he has promised to make this, as quoted from the man himself, the best summer of your life

— to which you just responded with a raised eyebrow. you don’t mind spending the whole three months of break with him, you don’t mind at all. in fact, you would really like the idea — but he doesn’t

have to know that.

one of the plans he had come up with is; baking. and that is how you find yourself in the back of his mom’s bakery, with a baby pink apron tied around your waist and beomgyu going around in the

kitchen looking for the ingredients for the fruit strudels he had promise to make with you.

“oh, you must be y/n.”

you turn to the source of the voice, and you quickly bow your head, “ah, yeah. nice to meet you.” the woman in front of you have the same dimple as the one on beomgyu’s, and the way she smiles warmly remind you of her son too.

“you’re really pretty, just like what beomgyu had told me.”

“mom, where’s the peach?” he asks, stopping his mom from exposing him further, as he is rummaging inside the fruit basket on the counter.

the woman giggles, “is our beomgyu shy? is he embarrassed if his mom is going to tell the pretty girl all about the things he had talked about her?” she continues, emphasizing on the pretty girl.

you look over to him and notice how his ears has turned slightly red from his mom’s teasing. you’re not sure why he is acting that way when he has called you with that specific nickname so many times

already.

“mom~” he whines, all the while avoiding your eyes that are fixated on him.

his mom lets out a loud laugh — now you know where beomgyu got that from — as she walks over to the fridge behind you. “i keep them in the here, baby.”

“oh,” he says, taking the peaches from his mom’s hand. “thank you, my lady.” he leans down and kiss his mom’s temple to which his mom playfully pushes him away. the gesture tugs a string in your heart

— a feeling of longing. you can’t remember when was the last time you hugged your mom, or your dad. heck, you can’t even remember when was the last time they asked you about your day.

“have fun baking, y/n. i’m only a shout away if you need something, okay? in case beomgyu burns the kitchen down,” she jokes again before walking out to store again.

beomgyu sighs, “sorry about her. she can be a bit… overbearing sometimes.”

“no, she’s fun.” you says, stepping closer to help him with the fresh fruits.

and that’s how you spent your thursday morning; baking various fruits strudels — peach, strawberry, mango, blueberry. well, it was beomgyu who did most of the work but nevertheless, you had fun

cutting up the fresh fruits.

the oven digs, indicating the pastries have been baked. beomgyu pulls the tray out, before setting it on the flour-covered counter. “oh, it smells amazing!” you exclaim excitedly.

“wait until you taste them, they are,” he looks down at you, making a chef’s kiss gesture to which you just giggle. “well, we have to let them cool down first before putting the cream and the fruits. wanna

go up to my room while we wait?”

you hesitate, never ever in your life have you ever stepped a foot in a boy’s room. despite that, you find yourself nodding to him, “sure.”

he nods, taking off his apron and waits for you to take yours off before snatching it from your hands, hanging them on the hook by the fridge.

following him up to his room which is located at the second floor just right above the bakery, you notice the picture frames decorating the wall going up the stairs. family portraits, baby pictures of

whom you assume are beomgyu and his brother, wedding pictures of his parents, a picture of beomgyu’s kindergarten graduation. it’s like the family’s own little hall of fame.

imagining your house in your mind, you don’t think you have any other picture being hung on the wall aside from that one huge family portrait in the living room — the one where you were looking so rigid

sitting in between your parents. you hated that picture, and you still do. family portraits are supposed to be a symbol of happiness, a symbol of affection, a symbol of a healthy family relationship but your family does not have any of that. the picture that was taken in the fancy film studio in france was just another attempt to cover the family’s despair. it’s pathetic, really. how hard your parents are trying

to come off as a happy married couple with a perfect daughter. throwing the money away for material things that can cover up the lack of happiness in the household. it’s pitiful, the only thing they need to be raising a happy family is the one thing that they lack in life.

a loud chirping at your right as you step onto the landing of the second-floor surprises you. you turn your head to look at the green-colored parrot in the cage. it has its’ head tilted as it stares up at your

unfamiliar face.

“this is toto, my pet.”

“your pet?”

he nods.

“out of all the animals you can have as a pet, you chose a parrot?”

he shrugs, “toto is everyone’s best friend in this house.”

you blink, and he does too.

“oh, okay.” you say and he nods. “come, my room is this way.” he leads you over to the door that has a messy scribble of ‘choi beomgyu’ in colorful crayons, opening it for you and urging you to take step inside. “after you.”

his room is surprisingly neat. well, it’s not like you have seen a guy’s room before but you did assume beomgyu to be a little messy kind of person — the usual clothes on the floor, comic books scattered

on the bed, snacks wrappers on the desk. but his room is clean, no used clothes on the floor, only a round foldable table in the middle of the room.

“how long are we supposed to wait for the pastries to cool down?” you ask, taking a seat on the floor by the desk. “around half an hour,” he replies. “you know what other baked goods i’m really good at?”

you shake your head, “tell me.”

“pumpkin spice cupcake, but we don’t have any in the store now. it’s not autumn yet so finding for pumpkin is quite hard this time of the year.” he explains.

“how am i supposed to have a taste then?”

“that means you have to come here again during autumn,” he says. “i’ll bake every autumn desserts for you. beside, don’t you want to see my pretty face in a different season too?”

you grimace, “what difference does your face make in autumn?”

he laughs before reaching over to his guitar that was leaning against the wall beside the door.

so, he does play the guitar.

“do you want to hear a snippet of the song i wrote?” he asks while tuning his guitar.

“you wrote songs?”

“yeah, for fun though. i’ve never really let anyone listen to it, aside from the guys.”

“sure,” you say, holding in your excitement.

“i wrote this a few days ago, it’s not finished yet but i’ll try to give my best.” he gives you a smile before he starts strumming his guitar strings softly.

and when you thought choi beomgyu is already beautiful from the way he smiles, from the way his eyes twinkle under the summer sunshine, from the way his whisker dimples form on his cheeks when

he laughs — here he is giving you another reason to think that he is the most heavenly person you have ever came across when he opens his mouth to sing.

your fresh fragrance, your sparkling eyes

makes me feel better

reality loses its power, even the earth dies

the moment is eternal

you’re not sure is it the way the sunlight shining through the open window or the way his eyes are fixated on you while he sings, but you can feel the blood rushing to your face, leaving your cheeks feeling so warm.

no matter where you are, no matter what season

if we’re together, feel like summer

“this is getting boring.” says hueningkai as he throws the uno cards on to the floor before plopping on his back on the ground.

“agree, we should be doing something else.” taehyun, who has been scrolling on his phone since half an hour ago finally spoke.

beomgyu, with his four other friends along with a few others are sprawled out in choi yeonjun’s basement. they’ve been doing everything that they deem fun to do in the last four hours — the video games, board games, card games, truth or dare (in which beomgyu had successfully dodged every single question and dare related to you).

“let’s hit the diner, i’m kind of starving,” one of yeonjun’s friends, minho, suggest to which the other boys agree without any objections.

“nah man, i’ll pass for tonight.” beomgyu says, already standing up from his seat, “think i’m going to go home and sleep.”

“really, sleep?” minho asks, smirking up to beomgyu. “or are you going to see that girl, what’s her name again? y/n?”

beomgyu raises his eyebrow, “what does y/n got to do with this?”

sensing the shift in the air, soobin quickly nudges minho in the rib. “hey, shut your mouth.” says the older.

“i don’t know, beomgyu?” the blondie continues, “i barely see you hang out with your friends lately. every time i ask them where’s beomgyu, their answers were always the same; hanging out with y/n.” he pushes his tongue against his cheeks, clearly enjoying how extremely annoyed beomgyu looks.

“you don’t even have time for your friends anymore now? why? too busy fucking that little rich bit-…” and the next thing beomgyu knows is he is on top of the guy, throwing punches across the blondie’s

face as both soobin and yeonjun try to pull him away.

“don’t you fucking dare say that word.” he yells out loudly, throwing another blow on minho’s cheek.

minho forcefully pushes beomgyu, making the latter falls on his back as the blonde-haired boy climbs on top of him, punching him on the corner of his lips before yeonjun had to (literally) throw hands

towards minho to make him stop punching his younger friend.

there’s a loud ringing in beomgyu’s ears, his head spinning.

he was never one to resort to violence when it comes to anything. aside from that one time he accidentally kicked a girl in elementary school while trying to show off his hapkido skills, beomgyu has never hurt anyone physically. but there is something about the way your name rolls on minho’s tongue that make him sick to the core.

he gets on his feet after regaining his vision again, blood trickling down from his lips. he gives his friends one last glance before running up the stairs of the basement, slamming the door loudly as he walks out.

wiping his bloody lips with the sleeve of his hoodie, he curses under his breath, thinking he can’t go home with bruised lips and blood stains on his hoodie — his mom would make a big deal about it.

so, he continues walking — passes the front of the bakery, up the hill. feet moving according to where his heart wants him to go. to find comfort.

and it wasn’t a surprise to him as he stops in front of your aunty’s house, looking up to the second floor where your room is. the lights are out, total darkness surrounding your room. of course, it’s half

passed midnight, of course you will be sleeping by now.

beomgyu is not sure why did he came here. it’s not like he wants you to see him in this state — bruised lips, fresh blood still oozing from the cut, tousled hair, red stains on the sleeve of his yellow hoodie.

no, he doesn’t want you to see him looking this miserable. he was just trying to look for comfort, and to him, his comfort comes in the shape of a girl in an oversized blue t-shirt standing across from him.

“you scare me!” he says as he finds your figure standing in front of the gate of the house.

“what are you doing out here?” you ask.

“what are you doing out here?”

you cross your arms on your chest, “i saw you from the window.” though the only source of light shining on him comes from the dingy lamppost above him, you’re still able to make out his busted lips.

stepping over to him, you gently take his face in your hands. at that moment, beomgyu knows coming here to actually see you wasn’t a bad idea when he can feel the heat from your palms engulfing his cheeks.

he wanted solace and apparently you are his.

“what happened to you?” you ask softly, afraid that if you raise your voice any higher it might hurt him.'

“i fell…” he says, “for you.”

you take your hands off his cheek, slapping his arm to which he jokingly winces in pain. “how could you slap me when i’m already this wounded?” he pouts, “i did fell, okay? i tripped while coming up

here. the hill can be pretty steep sometimes.”

“you’ve been going up and down this hill your whole life, how can you suddenly fell today out of nowhere?”

“i don’t know? people make mistakes, y/n.”

you roll your eyes, “come on, i’ll clean it up for you.”

beomgyu didn’t hesitate to follow you into the house, up the stairs and into your bedroom. you lead him over to the bathroom, trying not to make too much noise and waking up your aunt in the room

right across from yours— you don’t think she would appreciate you bringing a boy into the house in the middle of the night, and the last thing you want is her thinking there’s something passionate going

around between you and the baker’s son.

taking his face in one hand gently, you blow onto his cut. “it’s going to sting a little, okay?” he hums, enjoying the cool breeze from you on his open wound.

he watches you tentatively as you dab the antiseptic on his skin. “does it hurt?” you ask to which he just shakes his head no. “okay. phew, this is kinda scary.” you giggle as you lean closer to his face again, your nose a few inches away from his.

beomgyu roams his eyes all over your face — your eyes, your nose, and your lips. he observes the way your long eyelashes flutters against your soft cheeks with every blink you make. the way your pupils dilate as you are so focused on attending his busted lips. the way your nose scrunches up occasionally when he lets out a low groan of pain. the way your lips are pull into a pout while you’re busy nagging to him.

even under the ugly fluorescent light of the bathroom, with you wearing the most basic clothes — no fancy summer dresses, or blouses, or expensive sneakers – with your hair messily being put up into a bun, face free from any kind of make-up, to choi beomgyu; you are the most beautiful.

and in the daze of post-punched and being in your presence, he lets the words slip out of his mouth.

“you are so fucking beautiful, y/n.”

the saying of time flies when you’re having fun is actually true. days have turned into weeks, and weeks have turned into months — it’s already been two months since you first arrived in this small

town with the ocean view.

the past months have been filled with many new things you’ve never experienced in your life — going hiking to see the sunrise with beomgyu, harvesting vegetables and herbs with aunty sue, helping

beomgyu’s mom in the bakery, binge eating snacks at the convenience store past midnight with beomgyu and his friends, barbecue party with the townspeople.

and the most precious thing you’ve encountered during this summer break is friendship — not only with beomgyu, but his friends too. you’ve come to get comfortable with yeonjun, soobin, taehyun and

hueningkai along the way after spending time with them. beomgyu had brought you along to hang out with them a few times, and you had grown to enjoy the boys’ company, too.

and beomgyu has stay true to his words about making this summer the best three months break of your life.

“you look pretty already,” aunty sue says behind you as you’re busy fixing the strands of your hair framing your face.

turning to look at her, you pout. “i’m not.”

“beomgyu thinks you are.”

you blush, looking into the mirror to avoid your aunt’s teasing eyes. “i’m done, let’s go.”

“you’re not going with beomgyu?” she asks as the both of you are walking down the hill, a rattan basket in your hand.

“he said he’ll meet me there,” you explain. “he has to help his mom with the bakery booth.”

“ah, right. i forgot about that.”

another new thing you get to experience in this small town is their annual summer festival. aunty sue had told you that the town’s mayor came up with the idea of making the festival around a decade ago

in an attempt to give some sort of entertainment for the kids and teenagers, and also the adults, in the town during the season. it was a great success the first year it was being held — with more than

thirty booths of various foods and games. hence, why the summer festival has become the town’s annual event now.

as you reach the festival’s venue which is being held by the beach, you see soobin and yeonjun chattering at a booth near the entrance. you hand aunty sue the basket before excusing yourself to talk to the boys.

“yeonjun! soobin!” you call out, running up towards them. “oooh, y/n! you look so cute!” soobin exclaims excitedly as you stop in front of him. “but not as cute as choi odi, though.”

“choi odi?” you question and the boy nods “my pet.”

“a cat?”

“no, a hedgehog.”

you grimace — what’s with this group of friends and their weird animals as pet?

“what? you don’t think hedgehogs are cute?” he asks.

no, they look like rat — is what you wanted to say but you don’t have the heart to voice those words out from the look soobin is giving you. “yeah, they are… not bad.” you say before moving your gaze

away from him.

yeonjun notices the way your eyes are scanning around for the familiar mob of brown hair in the sea of visitors, and he chuckles. “his booth is on the other side,” he says. “want us to show you the way?”

your cheeks flushed from being caught but you thank him, anyways. “it’s okay, i’ll go by myself. i’ll see you guys later, then!” you say, walking away from them while waving.

you were about to walk around, trying to find his mom’s bakery booth when you hear your phone’s notification inside your bag. pulling it out, you smile as you read the name of the sender.

beomgyu: where u at, pretty girl? i saw your aunt but not you.

you quickly type in your reply.

you: i’m at a cotton candy stall near the entrance, omw to find u

beomgyu: stay there. i’ll go to u.

after waiting for a while, you spot him walking over to you — dressed in a white button up shirt, tucked inside his black jeans. hair slightly dishevelled from the ocean breeze. he has a smile across his face as

he keeps coming closer to where you’re waiting for him.

even in the sea of people, choi beomgyu is the only one that caught your eyes. you could be in a big ballroom of a masquerade party and the only one that has your attention is still choi beomgyu — there’s

just something about him that you can’t seem to explain that make you only look at him and him only.

you look up to him when he stops in front of you, the smile from earlier getting wider. “hi, pretty.” he says before his hand reaches up to your face, tugging the strands of hair behind your ear neatly. this

has been a little habit of his that he really loves doing whenever he sees your hair getting on your face — never once have you told him that you purposely let those strands untied.

“the firework show will be at 8pm, so we will have around,” he checks his phone, “hour and half to walk around. what do you want to do?”

“you’re not helping your mom’s booth?”

“my brother is here, so he’ll be helping mom for today.” he says, peeking to the stall behind you. “wanna try the cotton candy?”

there is already a line of children waiting for their turns to get the sweet treats in various shapes —heart, bunny, flower, and even a unicorn. when it reaches your turn, beomgyu asks you what shape

you would like for your candy, and you eagerly point at the bear on the menu sheet.

“here’s your order, mr. lover boy.” the man says, handing the stick of the bear-shaped cotton candy to beomgyu. “enjoy your time here, lovebirds.”

“we’re not-…”

“thank you, we will.” taking the candy from the man, beomgyu put his hand on the small of your back, leading you away from the line.

you look up at him, blush evident on your cheeks. why didn’t he deny the man earlier? lovebirds? love, really? “beomgyu, why didn’t you-..” you pause mid-sentence when he hands you the cotton candy.

looking up at him, then down to the cotton candy that is still in his hand, then up to him again and down to the candy again, you let out a laugh.

he furrows his eyebrow questioningly, “what so funny?”

taking out your phone, you open the camera app. “stand still.”

he complies, standing still with the cotton candy in hand all the while you’re giggling and snapping multiple pictures of him. “are you done?” he whines.

you show him the photo on your phone screen, swiping right to let him see the rest of his pictures you’ve taken. “the bear looks just like you!”

“is it funny to you?” he asks, wrapping his arm around your waist as he tickles your side. you squirm in his hold, laughing harder. “it is, because it looks exactly like you- ah! beomgyu, stop tickling me!”

he holds onto the stick of the cotton candy tighter as his other arm is still wrapped around your waist. beomgyu has always known of how beautiful you look when you smile and laugh, but, oh god. right

now, where you’re laughing to your heart’s content, in his arm, dressed in the loveliest white summer dress he has ever seen, with the warm glow of the sun slowly setting, he swears nothing else is as

beautiful as you. not even close.

“beomgyu, please stop. i’m going to pee.” you beg, tears from laughing pooling in your eyes. he lets you go slowly before handing the cotton candy to you which you gladly take.

“let’s go,” he says as he takes your free hand in his, pulling you into the gleeful summer festival.

you spent a good hour touring around the festival — eating tanghulu and few other famous street foods. playing random games at the game booths even though you knew they were all rigged, it was

still fun — beomgyu did won you a small teddy bear keychain from the dart game.

you visited your aunt’s stall too, where she’s selling little handcrafted trinkets. you couldn’t ignore the cheeky smile she sent you when she saw the way beomgyu was holding onto your hand.

then, you went to his mom’s booth where you met his brother for the first time. you were kind of expecting the teasing from him, but you didn’t know it would be so bad to the point you had to ask beomgyu for a glass of water, afraid you might suddenly pass out from the excessive blood rush.

it was fun. you don’t think you have experienced this much fun in your life. the last time you felt happy was when you had visited disneyland back when you were ten. with your maid, not with your parents. you don’t think you would have enjoyed it as much if you did go with them.

“we have 10 more minutes before the fireworks show.” beomgyu says as he leans his side against the railing. he had suggested to go up the cliff to have a better view of the firework. you thought it’s going

to be a packed spot but surprisingly there are only three other people there, sitting distance away from where you and beomgyu are standing.

you can feel his stare from the corner of your eyes, making your cheeks flushed. god, is it possible to lose one’s life from immense blushing? if it is, then you’re in a terrible danger.

“have you ever been in love?” he asks suddenly.

at that moment, the only thing you can hear is the loud ringing in your ears. gone the sound of the festive happening down by the beach, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the sound

of the people behind you chattering. the sound of beomgyu’s voice.

have you ever been in love?

have you? you want to say no. you want to tell him that you don’t believe in love — that you would rather believe in the existence of a flying elephant rather than believing in love. you want to tell him

there is no such a thing as love in this world. there is no such a thing as sincere love. people love to get what they desire in return — money, power, status, pride. your parents are a living prove of that.

you want to tell him if there is one thing you are so fucking afraid of in this world, it is to love.

you want to tell him that you don’t think love is worth taking the risk, you don’t think it’s worth fighting for. love is not a real thing. you’ve seen so many people from school getting heartbroken over a

breakup with their lover, only to jump into a new relationship a week after that. if love is a real existing thing then, how could you move on so easily like that?

you so badly want to tell him, but no words come out from your mouth as you stare into his sparkling eyes.

“you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he says after sensing the discomfort on your face.

“have you?”

“yeah,” he says, now facing the sea. “i’m in love with a lot of things — my family, my friends, toto, my bicycle.” he says, shifting on his feet, “i love helping my mom in the bakery, i love writing songs even

when no one listens to it. i love this town, no matter how boring it gets sometimes, i still love it.”

“i love summer,” he says as he turns to face you again. “i love summer because it brought you to me.”

you were about to say something to him when you hear the announcement from the speakers that the fireworks will be going off in the count of three.

ignoring the proclamation, you keep your eyes fixated on his. he is staring at you endearingly, a soft smile on his lips as he takes a step closer towards you.

three

he takes another step forward, until the tips of his shoes are meeting yours.

two

he tugs the strands of your hair behind your ear like he usually does, only this time he didn’t put his hand down, keeping it on the soft skin of your cheek. he rests his other hand on your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him.

one

he tilts his head, leaning down towards your face before stopping, leaving a small gap as he waits for you to make the next move, an unspoken sign of asking for your permission.

and as the fireworks start shooting in the sky, you stand on your tiptoes. hands resting against his chest as you lean forward, closing the gap in between your lips and his soft ones.

it started off with you gently resting your lips on his, until he starts to pull you closer by your waist — where he deepens the kiss.

it feels magical.

the way his lips are massaging softly against your own, the way his thumb is caressing your cheek in the gentlest manner, the way he tightens his hold on your waist — not hard enough to hurt you but

strong enough to keep you in place, the way his heart is beating so fast under your palm. the way the sky is glowing and shimmering brightly with the non-stop fireworks.

he is magical.

it’s not like you have ever kissed a boy before but the way beomgyu is kissing you with so much care, with so much affection, so endearingly, with so much love — you know the kiss is perfect. you just know it is.

because you don’t need a flawless kiss for it to feel complete, all you need is choi beomgyu to be the one kissing you.

to you, choi beomgyu is the epitome of perfection.

the ringing of your phone wakes you up from your deep sleep. reaching over to the vibrating device on the nightstand, you pick up the call without checking the caller id.

“hello?” you say, voice hoarse.

“y/n?” shoot, it’s your mom. “are you still sleeping?”

“uh, yeah. i just… woke up.” you sit up on your bed, eyeing the clock on the wall – 12:04pm. if there is one thing your mom hates, it would be tardiness — in anything, including the time you wake up from

sleep.

“i slept really late last night,” in which you did. after the summer festival, and the whole kissing thing, beomgyu had walked you home. not forgetting to give you another kiss, which felt more like a peck,

before he left. and you had stayed up until almost four in the morning replaying that particular scene on the cliff over and over again in your head.

you hear your mom sighs from the other end, “how you been doing there?”

oh, that’s new.

“it’s been okay,” you twirl the end of your blanket. “aunty sue is a very war-…”

“listen, y/n. i’m kind of busy right now. i just called to remind you about your leave after the summer break.”

and that is when reality hits you.

“your dad thought it would be a good idea if you come home this weekend. to make early preparations.”

shit. how could you forget?

“i’ll send a driver to pick you up this sunday,” she says, and you can hear rustling from her end, “i gotta go.”

when the line goes off, you remain holding your phone against your ear.

how can you get forget? did you forget because you’re too busy having fun here? did you forget because you finally found something, or rather, someone to share your happiness with? did you forget

that you’re only here temporarily, to take a breather from the crowded city? did you forget that you’re not supposed to be attached to anyone?

you’re leaving. you’re leaving the country in september. you’re leaving for a university on the other side of the world. you’re leaving your home. you’re leaving this town.

you’re leaving beomgyu.

beomgyu.

these past months, you have been engulfing yourself too much into whatever temporary fantasy he had created for you. you were so into it that you started to brush away all of your beliefs that have

been your pillar your whole life. you were so blinded by the happiness he had brought you that you started making an exception for him.

and for the first time in two months, for the first time since you have arrived in this small town with an ocean view, for the first time since you met the boy whose eyes shine brighter than any stars in the night sky — you want to be anywhere but here.

you know you’re being a jerk to beomgyu — ignoring his calls and text messages, lying to him about coming down with a fever, forcing aunty sue to make up whatever excuses she could think of

whenever the boy stopped by to catch a glimpse of you, pretending to be sleeping whenever you saw him standing under the lamppost outside of the house at night.

you’re being irrelevant and you know that better than anyone else. but you can’t find any other way to explain to him about everything — you’re not ready and you don’t know how to. you know he’s in

love with you, and maybe, just maybe, you do harbour the same feeling for him as well — but you're in denial.

love does not exist.

that’s what you’ve been telling yourself every day.

you’re going back home tomorrow, and you have successfully avoided beomgyu up until this point. until aunty sue had to (almost) beg on her knees asking you to deliver an official government letter to

the choi’s place. she had come down with a summer fever herself, making you feel bad if you refuse to help.

and that’s how you find yourself inside the the bakery’s kitchen that saturday afternoon, a brown envelope in hand. you are glad it is saturday — meaning beomgyu is not around as he always spends

the day at taehyun’s place.

you peek around the kitchen, no one in sight. there’s no one behind the register in the bakery too. is the shop closed?

you hear footsteps coming down the stairs, turning around with the envelope still in hand, “mrs. choi, aunty sue asked me to-…”

you blink, hands coming down to your sides.

leaving the brown paper on top of the counter, you were about to make an escape before you feel his hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back to him.

“y/n,”

“let me go,” you say under your breath.

he pushes you against the wall, trapping your body. “are you okay?”

out of all the things he could be saying to you right now, he’s asking you if you’re okay? out of all the mean things he could be spitting to you right now for ignoring him without explanation, the words

that came out from his mouth are those of endearment.

you avoid his eyes, afraid that you might break if you catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. “i’m fine.”

“then why have you been ignoring me?”

“i wasn’t feeling well.”

“then, that means you’re not okay.” he says softly, “look at me, y/n.”

you look up at him, tears pooling your eyes. “why are you being so difficult?!” you didn’t mean to scream in his face, but at this point, your brain has lose control — your body moving according to your

heart.

beomgyu is taken aback by your sudden outburst, “what?”

“why are you making it a big deal that i’m not talking or hanging out with you anymore?”

“how am i supposed to not make it a big deal when the person i’m in love with is pushing me away?” there, he said it.

“love?” you say, while trying your hardest to keep your tears from falling. “there is no such a thing as love in this world, beomgyu.”

“are you saying my feelings for you are invalid? of course, there is. there’s love everywhere in this world.”

“no, there’s none!” you scream again, “how can you fall in love with someone within, what? two months? that’s unrealistic, beomgyu.”

“you don’t need years to fall in love with someone, y/n. you can be by someone’s side for decades, shares one roof, sits at the same dinner table and sleeps on the same bed for years and years onwards

but if there is no love then there will be no love until the end.” he raises his voice slightly.

you finally let your tears fall as images of your parents cross your mind — of how unhappy they are with each other, of how their eyes never hold any kind of affection for one another. they have been

married for almost two decades now — live under the same roof, eat at the same dinner table, sleep on the same bed, wear the same silver bands around their ring fingers – but the love was never there. it’s never going to be there.

if there is no love then there will be no love until the end.

they are the reason why you’re acting the way you are now.

"i don’t need years to fall in love with you, y/n.” he wipes the tears on your cheek gently, “the moment i saw you that one summer afternoon, i knew i was falling head over heels for you.” he pauses,

searching for your eyes. “i knew that i’m in love with you.”

“tell me, y/n… did i do anything wrong? is it the kiss?” he asks, “i’m sorry i stepped over my boundaries.”

“it’s not the kiss,” you whisper.

“then? what’s bothering you, baby?”

more tears come out of your eyes at the nickname, “this whole thing,” you gesture to him and you, “you know it’s not going to last, right?”

he shakes his head, “no, i know you’re going to back to the city after the break, but we’ll make it work. it’s not even that far. you know people do anything for their loved ones, right?”

you take a deep breath, before wailing loudly, not caring about anything anymore. “you’re not gonna love me anymore after i leave, beomgyu. and i’m not talking about going back to the city. i’m leaving the country soon, to the other side of the world, for four fucking years, choi beomgyu!”

“i’ll wait for you, i promise.”

“no one is that stupid enough to wait for someone for that long. why take the risk of waiting years for someone? what if i suddenly came back with a boyfriend, or a fiancé?”

“you worth all the risk in the world, y/n.”

“why are you making things difficult for me?” you push him off of you before you make a run for the door. you continue running up the hill, tears still spilling out your eyes.

you stop, looking back to where you came running from. he doesn’t come chasing after you.

and a part of you wish that he did.

“is this the last one?” your driver asks as he loads the last of your luggage into the car’s boot.

you nod, thanking him to which he replies with a nod of his head. turning to face your aunt, you take her hand in yours. “thank you for taking care of me in the past two months.”

she smiles, rubbing on the back of your hand with her thumb. “are you sure you don’t want to see him first?”

you shake your head and the woman just nods hers before pulling you into a hug. it’s warm. she has always been warm, ever since the first time she picked you up at the train station. she has treated you

like nothing less than a family member, though you and her are very distant relatives.

“i’ll miss you.”

“i’ll miss you too, honey.” she caresses your hair. “come back soon, hm?”

you nod, moving away from her warm hold. “bye, aunty sue.”

as the car drives past the familiar bakery, you look down to your lap, droplets of tears wetting the thin fabric of your skirt.

and just like that, your temporary happiness ends.

the leaves start to wilt, slowly turning brown as the season transition from summer to autumn. the temperature getting colder and colder as each day passed by. no more scorching sun, no more clear

blue sky, no more children running around by the beach.

he stands on the cliff, overlooking the ocean. nothing much has changed since three years ago — except some parts of the railing has awfully broken down. honestly, he prefers it that way — the town not

changing. the way the town looks boring to an outsider, but actually holds a lot of hidden wonders.

the town holds a lot of dear memories to him. this is the town he has grown up in, the town that taught him all the life lessons that made him the person he is today, the town that brought him a girl

that he could never forget, even in his next life.

he looks over to the sea. if he swims far enough, would he reach the other side of the world? to where you are right now?

three years.

it has been three years since he last heard anything from you. it’s not like he didn’t try reaching out to you, he did, multiple times. he tried calling your phone, only to be greeted with the same bot telling

him that the number is no longer in service. he tried looking up for your social media — facebook, instagram, anything. but nothing ever came up with your name aside from a profile website of your

family, a picture of fifteen years old you under the words ‘daughter of a successful businessman and the uprising fashion designer’. he thought you look adorable in the picture, despite the lack of life in

your eyes.

three years went by and you still haven’t come back.

three years and all he could think about every day is you.

you, you, you.

his friends have been telling him to just let it go, telling him it was just a summer fling, telling him it’s time for him to move on, to go meet new people in college.

but he didn’t. he knows what is worth it in his life — you are worth the wait, the risk, everything.

he tugs his hands inside the pocket of his coat, the air is getting so chilly despite it being only september.

“thought i would find you here,”

he turns his head so fast as he hears the familiar voice, he thought he might get a whiplash from it. but as he stares at the figure standing across from him, he thinks he is experiencing more than a whiplash right now.

there you are, standing five feet apart from him. he roams his eyes over your smiling face, and he wonders how is it possible for someone to be this beautiful. you look different from the last time he

saw you, in a good way.

your hair is slightly shorter compared to three years ago, you have lost the baby fats on your cheeks too, making your cheekbones stand out when you smile, and your eyes, they no longer look like the one he saw on the last day he saw you, or in the picture from the internet. your eyes are filled with life now, sparkling under the grey sky of the autumn morning.

“i went to your mom’s bakery but you weren’t around. figured you would be-…” you didn’t get to finish your sentence as the man takes a long stride towards you before pulling you into his arms.

he holds the back of your head with one hand, pressing your nose against the base of his neck while his other hand is wrapped around your waist.

he still smells the same — a mixture of frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, and bergamot waters.

even in a different season, he still smells like summer.

you wrap your arms around him, “sorry i took too long.”

shaking his head, he wraps his arm tighter around you figure — afraid that you might suddenly evaporate into thin air, and this is just another night dream of his. “no, thank you for coming back.”

“thank you, too. for waiting for me.”

he pulls you away from his neck, staring deep into your eyes. “i promised i would wait for you, didn’t i?”

you nod, smiling up at him happily. you notice how he had grown few inches since the last time you saw him that one afternoon in the back of his mom’s bakery, from the way your neck is straining so

much looking up at him. his hair is no longer the deep shade of brown anymore, it's ash grey now.

he leans down, tilting his head as he nudges your nose with his — waiting for you to close the distance between his lips and yours, just like what he did that one summer night, in this exact same spot.

and as you finally rest your lips upon his — you think about how choi beomgyu is worth all the risk that you’ve took. the arguments with your parents because they kept opposing the idea of you dating a

nameless boy from a small town, the cramped semesters because you wanted to cut one semester off so you can come back to him a year sooner, the longing and aching feeling for him you got whenever

your friends in university talk about their partners. at the end, there were all worth it.

choi beomgyu is worth it.

you are still a firm believer of love does not exist. it’s hard to get rid of that idea when you’ve been sticking to it almost all of your life. and given that your parents’ eyes still lack of love and affection for

each other even after being married for a whole two decades now, it’s impossible to accept that there is love out there for everyone.

but to you; love exists in a form of a boy whose eyes shine brighter than any stars in the night sky, and that is all that matters to you.

and to choi beomgyu; even under the cloudy and gloomy autumn morning sky, with wilted leaves dancing around in the air with the wind, with the temperature getting colder and colder as day passed

by, it feels like summer to him — because it doesn’t matter where he is, or what season it is, whenever he’s with you, it feels like summer.

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lina-studen · 1 month

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"something floral": literature student blabbering about the usage of flower symbolism in "nevermore", how it ties to the theme of insanity and a little bit (a lot) about shakespeare.

from lenore's perspective, flowers are closely associated with isolation caused by her trauma and supposed "hysteria". floral pattern wallpaper accompanied her loneliness for days, months, even years. image of the flowers signaled that lenore's position would remain unchanged, that she was stuck, that she would continue to slowly loosing the clarity of her mind.

having torn the wallpaper off the walls, lenore believes that she will never see this image again, but flowers continue to accompanying her. lenore sees them again during her first meeting with annabel lee. and during the last one, too. she may have managed to get out of her lonely room, gain more strength in her legs, find a new friend, but lenore is still trapped. she's the daughter disowned by her parents, a stain on the family reputation that must be hidden forever. the image of flowers doesn't let her forget about it.

similar symbolism is also not alien to annabel lee. episode 66 is interesting in particular, because it directly quotes ophelia's monologue. I'm a big fan of shakespeare, it was he who instilled in me an interest in floral symbolism. a year ago, for a conference on foreign literature, I wrote an article about flower language of "hamlet". it's not available in english, but I'll list down some points that I considered relevant regarding "nevermore".

• rosemary can serve as a keepsake between lovers and also between the dead and the living. it could be seen at both weddings and funerals. in the old days it was also believed to be helpful in mental illnesses treatment.

• pansies, just like violets, symbolize innocence and devotion. ophelia doesn't consider the people around her worthy of violets, since she blames them for the death of her father.

• rue is a symbol of eternal suffering; grieving over her murdered father and the loss of her beloved hamlet, ophelia leaves some of the flowers for herself.

• the image of daisies has a close connection with the concepts of innocence, fidelity and eternal love. in shakespeare's tragedy, this symbol is overshadowed by the fact that in the world around ophelia there's no place for these beautiful things. for "nevermore" the symbol is also not so positive, since the readers are already familiar with daisies. they were on that wallpaper in lenore's room.

it's impossible not to note that annabel lee recites the monologue while in the bath, in the water. ophelia decides not to resist the river flow. her life turned into a tragedy: she was left without a father, her lover has seemingly lost his mind. her own sanity is also called into question. ophelia sings cryptic songs, goes into the field to weave a wreath, gives flowers to other characters. in the eyes of those around them, hamlet and ophelia seem crazy, while being the only sane and honest people among them. there's no place for tender, innocent ophelia in a cruel, deceitful world, so she drowns.

annabel lee also reflects on how both she and lenore are considered madwomen. her meeting with "leo" is accompanied by floral pattern on the annabel's dress. their madness is contextual, they both are perfectly sane, but don't fit into the system that could be leading to real madness with time. "all madwomen die twice. at least twice".

now about the arboretum. it obviously has a lot of flowers, but in my opinion this place is interesting in a different context. lenore and annabel visited the arboretum twice to discuss upcoming plans and such, and there are many parallels, both visual and narrative. not much time has passed since last time, but their situation has changed. they seem to look on their past selves from the upper level, having their conflict more acute now. I'll make a more detailed post about it later.

and now I'll just focus on how the characters in this arboretum full of roses behave as lost and confused as in the phobia-inducing flower labyrinth from earlier episodes. “the closer you get to beautiful flowers, the closer you get to their thorns,” says duke in episode 38. the flower imagery haunting the main characters doesn't let them forget that their sanity is always on a verge of slipping. and once a flower falls from its stem, it cannot be fixed.

p.s. guess which writer’s works I chose for a new article this year?

#nevermore webtoon #nevermore theory #am i a total loser for spending so much time on this post #yeah absolutely #but im glad i got to share my thoughts #lenore nevermore #annabel lee nevermore #annabel lee x lenore #nevermore webcomic

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write-it-motherfuckers · 10 months

Text

Person A: "Are we even allowed to be in here?"

Person B: "I don't know, I stopped caring about their bullshit rules after they repaid my loyalty and devotion by framing me for their own misdeeds."

Person A: "...What if someone recognises you?"

Person B: "Recognise me? Ha! I was nothing but a faceless tool to them, I might as well have been part of the wallpaper! Honestly, I could probably walk right up to them and introduce myself with my former name and those fools still wouldn't realise it was me."

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monster-disaster · 17 days

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Request: Chimera inspired monster

Not necessarily a traditional chimera, just a monster that you mish mash together yourself since you’re the author! I wanna make sure you have a lot of creative reign to design the creature how you want to!

Scenario/Plot: A retelling/inspired story of Beauty and the Beast, but female reader agrees to be his bride from the very start. She has abandonment issues and just yearns to be loved by anyone who’ll take her. And reader found her monster groom to be very attractive from the beginning. She’s just enjoying her life living in opulence with a man that’s fully devoted to her. *Cute shenanigans ensue between the couple, that ends in a Gomez and Morticia Adams romance*

Not sure if this’d be good for NSFW, or just a super fluffy romance would be better!

It's spring, and I'm in my historically inaccurate Regency Era. I hope you will enjoy it!

chimera!Lord Elohim x human!Reader Good to know: no warnings, and I can't promise anything, but there is a chance that we will meet Lord Elohim again because I have more ideas for their pair

A soft 'thank you' slips past your lips as the carriage door opens, and a hand reaches out towards you, offering help. Your fingers find a firm grip as you step out onto the gravel path, gathering the soft fabric of your dress to pull it out of your way. The pebbles creak under your shoes, mixing with the bustling noises of the others around you. Your gaze scans your surroundings, finding a few familiar faces among the guests. The ladies are adorned in their latest gowns, following the fashion and expectations of their titles. Their necklaces and earrings glint and shine under the warm light of the lampions and candles like the stars in the dark sky above you. In contrast, the men appear dull in their dark coats and trousers.

"Y/N?"

Your attention shifts from the guests to the mansion before you. Your gaze sweeps over the sturdy walls and delicate carvings and details. Candles glow in every window, dancing and pulsing among the lush vines that climb the grandiose building.

"Y/N?"

A slight frown pulls on your brows as your attention pauses at the wide window above the entrance door. A tall shadow stands firm and straight. The lights streaming out from the house make it impossible to see clearly.

"Y/N!" Your gaze tears away from the sight as an arm curls around yours, pulling you away from the next carriage in the long row of arriving guests. You need a moment to drag your focus away from the window. The back of your mind still lingers on the dark figure, though. "Mother?" "What are you doing?" She asks. Your frown again with confusion this time. "What do you mean?" "Come." Despite her small, delicate form, your mother has every power in her body to drag you into the house after showing the man standing at the door your invitation. "Wow!" Your amazement escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your eyes are on the chandelier hanging from the painted ceiling. "Don't be so crude!" "I'm not!" You reply, looking at the older woman with an amused smile. It's so easy to rile her up. "Come on! Don't tell me you are not surprised." She looks around more discreetly than you. Her attention lingers on the wallpapers with golden details, lush plants, and framed paintings. "I mean…" You can't help but laugh. "See?" "Well, the King was generous," she hums quietly, making sure you are the only one who can hear her while the others come and go around you two. "He saved his nephew," you reason. "He almost died."

The ballroom is already buzzing with life as you and your mother continue further into the mansion, her arm still linked with yours. "Wow!" "Y/N!" You don't even bother with a reaction. You're too busy taking in the green walls with their glinting decor, the flickering candles, and the sturdy wooden furniture. The windows, wide and tall, are framed with dark curtains, offering glimpses of the garden behind the mansion filled with lush greens and flowerbeds. From what you can see, the whole house is elegant and stylish, with the obvious preferences of its male owner.

"I will bring us something to drink," you tell your mother when you see the familiar form of your neighbor coming your way. The woman's face is red with excitement, and her eyes shine with news and the latest topics to gossip about. You already know most of them anyway. "Thank you, dear," your mother replies, letting go of your arm to face the other woman.

The excited voice of your neighbor soon disappears in the cacophony of the soft music that is quiet enough to give space for the chatter in the room. Young couples dance in the middle in each other's arms, whispering and swirling at the melody while the others stand around with drinks. Their voices mingle together to the point you can't understand them.

Maybe it's for the better.

After the King bestowed a title, fortune, and lands upon a monster who saved his nephew from certain death on the battlefield, it became impossible to avoid the whispers circulating through the streets and social gatherings. Allowing monsters to earn wealth and find a way to integrate into human society, primarily through the military, was one thing; however, granting them titles and authority was an entirely different affair. The Ton found themselves uncertain of how to react without angering the King.

They don't dare to express their opinions to the monarch; they are not dense, after all. Yet, they can't readily accept the monster into their social circles, either.

Then, a week ago, everyone received an invitation from Lord Elohim, putting many between a rock and a hard place to your utmost amusement.

As you survey the room full of people of the society close to the King, you notice that their curiosity outweighs their resentment. For tonight, at least. The lack of your surprise is understandable; you are sure this party will provide rich fodder for gossip for weeks, if not months. You glance back at your mother and her friend, already chatting in hushed whispers. Yes, you think, it's already started. It started even before the night began.

The table is pushed next to the wall between two windows. Your eyes scan the various drinks, cakes, and fruits, all fresh and ripe. You're about to reach for two cups when your attention shifts to an archway nearby. Through it, you glimpse a narrow corridor and another open door with a tall bookshelf. Your hand hesitates in mid-air, halfway to the drinks.

You shouldn't.

Your gaze sweeps over the guests, observing everyone having a great time. People continue to dance under the watchful eyes of the wallflowers and eager mothers, while the men chat in small groups.

Your mother would kill you.

As you stand still, unnoticed by the others, you find yourself repeatedly turning your attention back to the door outside.

It would be really rude of you.

You take a few tentative steps away from the table, still focusing on the people around you. A few of them smile when your eyes meet, but nobody stops to start a conversation with you.

Just a quick glance, you tell yourself as you slowly back out of the ballroom. Nobody will know.

The corridor appears much darker in contrast to the ballroom, and when you step into the other room, you have to light a candle you find on the small table next to the door.

The small library is much simpler than the other rooms of the house you've had the chance to see. The walls are hidden by bookshelves, with two sofas and a small coffee table in the middle. From there, you have a full view of another part of the garden spreading out behind the mansion.

You move quietly and slowly with the small, burning candle in your hand. The floor creaks under your steps. The dancing flame warms your face as you lean closer to read the spines of the books. The soft glow illuminates the line of your eyes and the slope of your nose. Most of the books are worn and faded.

You glance at the entrance every now and then, making sure nobody has noticed your absence yet. The noises of the music and the guests seem far away through the half-closed door.

You should go, though.

You nibble on your lower lip until it's red and slightly swollen as you reach up to the shelf. The book you grasp is dark red with a golden title. You can see that it has been regularly read.

Just a peek, you try to convince yourself, and you'll be ready to go.

Before you know it, you're sitting on one of the sofas with the candle on the table and the book on your lap.

Your mother will definitely kill you.

"It's from a friend." The deep voice coming from the door almost makes you jump out of your skin. You grab the books at the last moment before they slip from your lap to the ground. "Oh!" Your heart throbs in your throat as you gasp for air. "He wrote it," he continues, stepping closer. His hands are behind his back. The dark blue coat stretches on his broad shoulders. "While he was traveling."

You have seen monsters before. Even though humans are not particularly fond of them, they are not banned from cities and towns. At least, not anymore.

But you have never seen anything like him before.

Your eyes rake over his tall, sturdy form. At first, you think he is a rakshasa, with a thick yet lean body and a dark mane around his head, but there are goat horns peeking out of the thick fur. And instead of the delicate lion tail, a crocodile one swings behind him, dark green and covered in scales.

"Lord…" You gasp again, standing up from your seat. You can't hide the surprise in your voice or wipe it away from your face. Your fingers are tight on the book, still open. "Lord Elohim," he says with a slight bow. "And you are…" "Lady Y/L/N," you tell him. You are still so overwhelmed by him that you forget your manners entirely. You stare at him openly without shame. He is barefoot. The white shirt he wears is a bit bigger than him, showing off a bit of his chest, and tucked into the creamy-colored trousers that hug his lean waist perfectly. A slight grimace pulls on his face, letting you see his sharp canines. "I'm not doing it right, am I?" He seems easy and amused. Even a bit awkward. Your tense posture relaxes a bit. Your shoulders fall. "I mean," you dare to tease him with a small smile. "You should be outside, socializing, but I shouldn't be here either. And for that, I'm sorry." "Don't be," he says, stepping even closer. Your breath hitches. "I love being here too, so I understand." His gaze runs over the shelves full of books before his attention falls on you again. "How do you like it?" He nods to the book still in your hand. "It's interesting," you tell him. "I didn't know orcs have such a rich culture." There is a glint of amusement in his eyes. "How many orcs do you know?" Heat creeps up on your cheeks. "None." "You can take it with you," he says, motioning to the book again. "It's really good." "Oh, I can't…" "You can," he says immediately. "I'm offering." He is so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face. The male is handsome, with his almost black snout and golden eyes. The realization shocks you. You didn't think monsters could be so attractive. "Well," you clear your throat. Your nose is full of his scent. Warmth and nature. "Thank you." You put it down on the table next to you, though. Maybe you can sneak in before you have to leave and take it home without your mother noticing. She wouldn't be happy with you leaving the ballroom and being alone with a man, monster or not. "You are here with…" "My mother," you tell him. "She is outside… where I should be." He grins. "Me too." None of you move. "Do you want me to introduce you?" You ask him. You can't just leave him here. Not after he offered you his book and was so kind to you. "It can be scary around the ton for the first time." There is something wolfish in his smirk that makes your insides tremble with excitement. You understand, though. You don't think there are a lot of things that can scare him. "Thank you," Lord Elohim says in the end, holding up his arm for you to take. He is warm under your touch as you accept his offer.

Your heart flutters at his closeness.

Eyes fall on you the moment you step into the ballroom on Lord Elohim's side. Your fingers tighten on the curve of his elbows, and he squeezes your hand softly as a reassurance. The room gets quiet as you make your way to your mother through the crowd. Her eyes are wide with shock as you approach her. "Mother," you smile at her, not caring about the heavy gazes on you and the monster. "Let me introduce Lord Elohim." Your mother curtsies, taking back the control over her face. A soft smile appears on her lips, and she looks up at the tall male. "My Lord." "Lady Y/L/N," he bows, still holding onto you on his arm. His paw-like hand is warm on your glove-covered skin. "Please," he straightens, looking around the room. "Continue. Enjoy the night."

His words are followed by silence, and everyone needs a few seconds to regain their composure and focus on their business. Quiet murmurs ripple through the guests, the music starts again, and the weight of the others' attention lifts off your shoulders a bit. Not entirely, though.

"Thank you for the invitation, my Lord," your mother says. You know she feels awkward even though she is really great at hiding it. "I hope everything is for your liking." "Of course," the older woman nods. Before another tense silence could fall on your small company, you turn to the male. He is already watching you, and you can see your mother's eyes widening with fear about what you plan to say. You understand her. "It would be really gentlemanly of you to ask me to dance." You hear your mother gasping, but your focus is on Lord Elohim and his sharp canines as he smiles at you. There is something satisfied and cheeky in the curve.

His golden eyes bore into yours as he gently tugs on your hand, leading you to the couples dancing in the heart of the ballroom. You're aware of the gazes fixed upon you, analyzing your every move, yet you couldn't care less. Your attention is consumed by the chimera before you. His paw-like hand trails from yours, grazing over your arm until it settles on the small of your back, drawing you closer until you're enveloped by his embrace. A tingling sensation courses through your entire being. A sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it. "Are you alright, my lady?" The rumble of his chest echoes within yours.

Are you okay? You're uncertain. Unable to tear your gaze away from his, you feel like a raw nerve, sensitive and on the verge of bursting as he encloses you against himself. The air around you grows hot and heavy, causing your chest to ache and throb.

A smirk plays on his lips. "Are you thinking of running?" Lord Elohim teases, regarding you like a deer he often spots in his garden at dawn. With wide eyes and slightly parted lips, you gaze up at him. He's certain the soft skin of your cheeks would be warm under his touch if he dared to act as he desires despite the attention of his guests. Oh, how he longs to send them all home and keep only you for himself. The pretty little lady with the tendency to sneak around.

"No," you breathe out, fighting for air when you find your voice, holding onto his shoulder more firmly as if he is the only one who keeps you on your feet. You can feel the softness of his mane on your fingertips. Your other hand is in the air in his grasp.

It takes a moment for you to register the orchestra and your body's response to the gentle melody. You move mindlessly under Lord Elohim's guide. Swaying back and forth, you follow the male's lead on the dance floor. His embrace envelops you in warmth, leaving you feeling giddy and breathless as he twirls you, pulling you back to him moments later. You smile up at him, on the verge of laughter.

"You're quite the dancer," you compliment him. "Well, thank you," he hums, his gaze still firmly fixed on yours. "In that case, I hope you won't mind if I ask you to dance with me again." And a few more times.

You don't answer immediately. A sense of certainty washes over you, Lord Elohim will be your lifelong dance partner. The thought fills you with excitement for your future as you stare up at him. It seems like the gold of his eyes swirls under the lights that dance in sync with you.

"I'd love to dance with you some more, my Lord."

For an eternity, if it's possible.

#sweet asks #monster romance #monster boyfriend #monster x human #monster x reader #terat0philliac #chimera x reader

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pixiemunsons · 2 years

Text

you're so cute (em)

your boyfriend was always so scared of corrupting you, he never considered that that might be just how you wanted it. time to convince him.

a/n: i can't believe how many people liked for your viewing pleasure! i'm so excited to share this one with you. hope u love it<3

smutty smut smut, use of slut and whore during sex, reader thinks she's in control but she's not<3, soft!dom eddie, spit play, semi public bathroom sex, choking, rough sex, the ending's cringe because i didn't know how to end it, reader is a cheerleader and fits into an oversized t-shirt of eddie's but no explicit mention of body size. eddie and reader flirt like he's cheating on her but he's not you'll see what i mean. no use of y/n

cute was very quickly becoming your least favourite word.

you used to love it. when boys told you you looked ‘cute’ at parties, when your friends told you your outfit for school was ‘so cute’, when your mother picked out ‘the cutest’ swimsuits for you to wear on holiday. you revelled in the fuzzy socks and pink wallpapered life you existed in. perfect cheer practice, ill-be-home-for-nine-daddy, milkshakes in a 50s diner with a boy whose hand would never creep any further up your leg than your knee.

but then eddie munson exploded into your life. and dragged along behind him in a shitty, beat up van came a whole new world.

───

‘sweetheart, y’know i’d love nothing more, but it’s just not your kinda scene. you wouldn’t enjoy yourself.’ eddie felt terrible for cancelling your upstanding saturday night together, but gareth had begged him to go to a gig at the hideout, and whilst he really couldn’t care less about a rush cover - prog rock was definitely not his usual scene - he’d bailed on his friends at least twice this month already, and it was starting to get hard to hide what was going on from everyone.

not that you really wanted to. but cmon; the rebel and the good girl? it was bad enough when grease did it. and if people were to find out, then both of you would end up miserable, at least in hawkins. so it was easier to have spaces devoted to just you; eddie’s bedroom, his van, skull rock when you were feeling particularly risky. once or twice you’d managed to drive to a town an hour or so away, where no one knew either of you, and you’d almost cried the first time you’d held his hand in public.

still, that wasn’t going to stop you from pouting about not being able to go with him. sure, you were more pretty in pink than pink floyd, but anything could be a good time with eddie. you sighed down the phone, fiddling with the edge of your bed sheet as you spoke.

‘you better not meet any girls there,’ you teased, and you could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.

‘i’d never find anyone as cute as you, baby. i gotta go, listen i’ll swing by sunday for fifteen, how’s that? i gotta go, love you sweetheart.’ his voice was crackly on the shitty line, but one word stood out.

cute.

that’s what you were, you supposed. soft. sweet. cute.

when you had lost your virginity to eddie, he’d been so careful and gentle, making love to you like you’d always imagined. but it had never gone further than that, and you knew he was capable of so much more. you’d heard the locker room talk after gym, seen the black bandana hanging out of his tight jeans, felt the way he held himself back when he was inside you as if you were a precious porcelain doll he was terrified of breaking. well, you thought, maybe it was time you put an end to that. and, well, when’s a better time than the present?

‘yeah, baby, love you too. see you later.’

───

it had taken two hours to get ready, not including the hour you’d had to wait for your parents to get ready and get out of the house, off to some retirement party or other. your mother had waved you goodbye with a twenty, not before checking at least three times that you would be fine on your own overnight. and as soon as they’d left, you began.

and you thought you looked pretty fuckin’ hot.

gone was the cheerleader’s outfit and sensible white tennis shoes. eddie had left enough clothes at your house for you to fashion an outfit, and what he didn’t provide you could put together from some old clothes in the back of your closet. you were wearing your hair down for once, and black eyeliner was smeared around your eyes in a semi-messy, semi-sexy style. eddie’s big, worn black sabbath shirt was tucked into a pair of black denim shorts you’d bought secretly on a shopping trip a few months back. your old tights were ripped in a few places, and you finished the outfit off with your black high top chucks; you’d had to beg your dad for weeks to buy them for you, convincing him finally that they went best with the green of the hawkins high sports teams, and all of the other girls had them.

the drive to the hideout was filled with nervous energy. you tried playing some van halen cassette that eddie had left in your car to gear yourself up, but hot for teacher reallywasn’t calming your nerves. so you simply switched it off and drove the five miles in silence, contemplating what you were about to do. getting in wasn’t the issue; they almost never took id, and even if they did, you weren’t sure the bouncers could even read to work out how old your date of birth made you.

the bar was absolutely packed out when you arrived, and you weren’t even sure you’d be able to find your boyfriend through the thick crowd of leather jackets and long hair and doc marten boots. you half considered standing on a table, but you wanted to find him before he found you. so you worked your way through the throng, muttering ‘excuse me’s and ‘thank you’s as you navigated the sticky carpet. then, in the corner of your eye, right at the end of the bar, you spotted a figure slouching against the wall, beer in one hand and the other in a jacket pocket. a jacket with dio painted on the back. grin plastered on your face, you walked over to eddie quietly, leaning up to his ear from behind.

‘hey honey, you gonna let me buy you a drink?’

you saw his arm jump at the slight intrusion, beer sloshing over the rim of the cup, but he barely turned his head towards you.

‘nah, i’m cool, i got a girl.’ you cocked an eyebrow, placing a hand on his left shoulder.

‘is that right, babe?’

you heard him huff in annoyance, making to turn around and face you fully.

‘yeah, i fuckin’ do, so- jesus h christ!’

you had never heard eddie as silent as when his eyes scanned your form, lingering over the ripped lines on your thigh and the curve of your ass in particular with his jaw wide open. you hadn’t expected his reaction to be so visceral, and the way his face transformed had you clenching your thighs together. eddie thought you were hot in your cute little everyday outfits, but this?

you were a goddamned wet dream.

‘what brings you here…?’ you quirked an eyebrow up at him questioningly, smoothing down the collar of his t-shirt, and he gulped loudly, seemingly getting the hint.

‘e-eddie.’

you smiled, all teeth, and ran your hand further down his front, hooking it around his waist and stepping forward so you were chest to chest. you could feel his heart beating wildly against your front, and you hoped to god he couldn’t feel yours.

‘cute name for a hot guy,’ you winked. ‘surprised your girlfriend lets you out alone.’ something about the way you said girlfriend, dripping with seduction, seemed to snap something in him, and he leant down so his lips brushed against your ear, his hot breath sending heat directly to your centre.

‘she was gonna come, but she’s got cheerleading practise in the morning.’

‘ah, a cheerleader? she sounds like a good girl.’ he smirked down at you, laughing lightly, and reached a hand to tug your hips against his.

‘i think she likes people to think she is. she dresses in all this cute shit usually, puts a show on. but really, deep down inside? i think she’s a dirty little whore who wants her shit rocking.’

any modicum of dominance you were holding onto fell from your grasp at his words. you had allowed him to slowly back you up against a pillar, and were now standing with his legs between yours and his head tucked into your neck. with a thrill, you realised that people probably thought he was kissing your neck, thought that the hand gripping your waist was feeling you up, and you couldn’t deny it was turning you the fuck on. you clutched onto his waist, keening up against him and whining as he pressed a sharp-teethed kiss onto the delicate skin of your throat, and it took everything you had not to groan aloud.

‘what do you think, honey?’ he asked, and you made dazed eye contact with him.

‘hmm?’

‘i said,’ eddie growled, ‘what do you think? my girlfriend. she a slut?’ his voice was gravelly, and you could tell you’d almost pushed him to where you wanted him; breaking point. so you pushed your chest forward, and looked him in the eye.

‘i think, eddie,’ your voice sounded husky and sexy under the music booming through the club, and you reached to lace your fingers through his belt loops. ‘that i would let you do whatever you wanted to me, and i’d do it better than your girl can.’

───

you had no idea what to expect of the hideout’s bathroom. you’d never been in a bar like this before. not that it mattered; before you could get a good look at it, your back was pressed against the locked door and eddie’s tongue was down your throat.

‘i can’t fuckin’ believe you turned up here,’ eddie gasped, running his teeth down the column of your throat and letting out a moan when you pulled on a handful of his hair.

‘didn’t think it was your scene, princess.’ he adjusted his grip on your thigh, pulling your feet to link behind his waist, and you could feel a bulge pressing against your core through two layers of denim.

‘wasn’t really the cheerleader’s,’ you breathed out, gripping his leather jacket to pull his mouth back to yours. ‘but ’s definitely mine.’ this time, he was barely kissing you; instead, he was nipping at your lips, stroking his tongue against yours, and you weren’t sure if it was his spit or yours that was dripping down your chin.

‘does this you fuck in bathrooms?’ he asked, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he grinned down at you. you knew eddie would never do anything you didn’t want, but you also knew this was the beginning of a whole new aspect of your life together.

‘eddie, this version of me wants you to fucking destroy her in this bathroom.’ eddie’s eyes went dark, and he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet them.

‘baby, do you know what you’re asking for?’ you sighed at him, rolling your eyes.

‘i’m so sick of everyone treating me like i’m gonna break! eddie, i can take whatever you got. whatever you wanna give me. i jus- i just want you to fuck me like i know you can. like i know you want to.’

‘in that case, princess,’ he looked downright sinful as he spoke, stroking your face with a ringed hand before slapping it lightly, ‘hold on tight.’

suddenly, you were in the air, and your ass was landing on the cold porcelain sink behind you. you put your hands out to steady yourself, gripping onto the edge, and eddie looked at you approvingly.

‘good, you’re learning quick. open that dirty mouth.’

you opened up, sticking your tongue out a little, and eddie came to settle himself between your open legs. his large hand gripping your chin once more, your eyes fluttered shut, anticipating his next move. you felt something wet touch your tongue, looking up to see a trail of spit connecting your mouth to his.

‘don’t swallow yet,’ he demanded, and you could’ve cum on the spot. he just spat in your fucking mouth and you let him, wanted him to. two thick fingers made their way into your mouth, playing with your mixed saliva, rubbing it into your tongue and pushing themselves down your throat until you were gagging and your eyeliner was streaming.

‘aww baby, are you sure you can take it? choking on my fingers already, my cock’s gonna fuck you completely dumb, ’s that right?’ his voice was taunting, harsh and going straight to your pussy, and it was all you could do to concentrate on nodding your head as you drooled around his fingers.

then they were gone, and you went to chase them out of your mouth, whining at the loss, but a sharp slap against your inner thigh had you mewling and pulling away.

‘gonna have to be a good girl f’me, princess. wanna get down for me?’

you were on your knees before he could push you down, yanking his pants down and taking his boxers with them. you weren’t even gonna pretend to tease, no kitten kicks or soft kisses to the tip. instead, you spat right on the head, just like eddie’d spat on your tongue not two minutes earlier, and took his unbelievably hard dick as far as you could.

‘jesus fuckin’-, sweetheart, are you okay?’ eddie looked almost concerned, and he went to card a hand through your hair reassuringly. instead, you caught it halfway and slowly, nervously, traced it down your face, past where you were connected, and down to the swell of your neck. you placed his hand there, looking hopefully up at him, and he took the hint and squeezed.

‘o-oh, honey, is that- you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me, it’s buried in there, holy sh-‘ eddie could feel his cock moving through the skin of your throat, feel it in his hand how you swallowed around the thickness of him, how your muscles contracted and tried to push him out.

‘think this face was made for fuckin’, baby, what’d’you think?’ you moaned around his length, pushing yourself down on it even further, and you could hear him breathe in sharply above you.

‘christ, honey, i need to get out. i wanna fuck you, need to feel how wet that pussy is.’ eddie grabbed your hair and pulled you back to your feet, kissing your slick mouth and revelling in the way you pressed against him, tasting himself on you.

‘bend over the sink for me, princess.’

you were practically grinding back against him already, hips swivelling on nothing. you hadn’t noticed the mirror when eddie had first pushed you into the stall, but you finally caught a glimpse of yourself and- holy hell.

your eyeliner was dripping down your face, and where it had previously stylishly smudged it was now destroyed, smeared around your cheeks. your hair was a knotty mess, nose snotty and drool seeping out of the edges of your mouth. yet, somehow, you felt so powerful. you’d taken control of the situation, got what you wanted and, you’d discovered, looked pretty hot when you were all fucked out. behind you, eddie already had your shorts pulled down your thighs, and he was making moves to eat you out until you cried when your hand came back to stop him.

‘baby,’ you panted, vice-like grip on his wrist, ‘i need you. ‘m wet enough, promise, just put it in, please.’

eddie never much liked passing up on foreplay with you. he always took his time, made you come once or twice with his fingers and tongue before he eased himself into you. you very rarely had to do anything to get him going; he’d spend so long on you, he’d be bursting to cum before you’d even started. but the tables had been turned and he had the power here. so he yanked your panties down and sank himself to the hilt in your pussy.

‘eddie, fuck!’ you cried out as soon as he bottomed out, head dropping down so your forehead was touching the porcelain sink. instantly, a hand wound it’s way around the back of your neck and yanked your head back.

‘i’m gonna need you to watch, babe. watch yourself get fucked out, there’s a good girl.’ you whined at his words, meeting his eyes in the mirror. he looked as wild as you; hair sticking up all over, fringe plastered to his forehead, and his eyes were fixed on the place where you met. it was all too much, too hot, and before you knew it your eyes were closed again. the hand braced against your hip delivered a sharp slap to your ass, the other gripping your hair and pulling your head back.

‘stop fuckin’ looking away, baby, i’m not gonna tell you again,’ he spat, delivering a particularly deep thrust that had your knees buckling under you.

‘i want you to look at yourself in the mirror while i stuff you up. you’re gonna let me fuck you in a public space like a dirty slut, you’re gonna get fucking treated like one, do you understand me?’ you could only moan in response, and he let go of your hair in favour of wrapping his hand around your neck. your back was arched against him, his rings chilly and biting against the hot skin of your throat, and he lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper against your ear.

‘sweetheart, if you don’t give me an answer right now, i’ll cum inside you and make you walk out in front of all of those people with it dripping down your legs. so, i’ll ask you again, and i want you to answer me properly. are you going to be a good girl, like i know you can be, and keep watching us, or do i need to repeat myself?’

‘yes, yes eddie, i’ll be so good for you, your good girl, please make me cum, gotta come so bad,’ you were babbling now, and eddie knew you were close. picking up the pace, he gripped your neck even harder, and now you were dizzy and chasing your orgasm and your eyes were pricking tears at how hard you were trying to keep eye contact.

then he bit your shoulder and it was all you needed to push you over the edge, one hand gripping the sink and the other clinging onto the hand wrapped around your neck as you pushed back against him, triggering his own orgasm. he came inside you, deep and hot, and you could hear him rambling as he rode you both through it.

‘jesus christ if i knew you had it in you i’d have been fuckin’ you like this for months, so beautiful, so- shit, so good for me sweetheart, can’t believe you let me do this to you…’ his forehead rested against your shoulder gently, and you leant a hand back to smooth his hair out.

‘was- was that too much?’

you whirled around in surprise, hissing slightly as eddie’s cock slipped out of you, and took his face in both hands.

‘fuck, eddie, that was the hottest shit that’s ever happened to me! and one to tick off the bucket list,’ you shrugged, laughing as his face lit up.

‘bucket list, huh?’

‘oh baby, i gotta whoooole lotta shit to cross off it,’ you winked, giggling as he swooped you up in his arms to kiss you again.

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