#fondness and sorrows AU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

byeomtori · 7 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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strongheartneteyam · 1 year

Text

I wish I could

Chapter 2

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!curvy!human reader

Neteyam is aged up.

CW: lots of fluff, childhood friends to lovers, reader loves na'vi children so much and dreams about being a mom one day, angst, the whole Sully family loves reader (including Neteyam but she doesn't know that yet lol)

Author's note: as this is an Avatar AU, reader doesn't need a mask to breathe Pandora's air and not die. Maybe because she was born there, never left and was adopted by a na'vi woman since she was a really small child, she was gradually exposed to Pandora's environment and some kind of mutation happened, so she can breathe, because her body adapted to survive in the planet without the need of a technological device. Idk if it makes sense at all honestly, but, what the hell, fanfics are supposed to be fun and not make 100% of sense, so... just try to not think too much about it n enjoy ahaha

♡

Chapter 1

♡

"Oh my God, such a cute little thing you are" You said while squeezing Tuk in your arms. Even though she was bigger than you because she was a na'vi child after all, you held her like a human toddler. You loved her so much, as if she was your own child. And she loved you too. She was giggling so happily while you squeezed her tight. She was so fond of you that Neytiri would always leave you to take care of her when she left for a hunt. She trusted you, thought you were a really good kid. And you were known in the tribe for helping na'vi mothers with their children. From babies to pre-teens.

You thought Neytiri to be such a beautiful and wise na'vi woman. You desired to be like her one day. You also wanted to have a big beautiful family like hers but that thought would always soon turn from a happy one to one that filled you with angst and sorrow. You were just a human after all, left to the care of a sweet na'vi lady after your parents died in a battle against the Sky People when they came back to Pandora once again. Those horrible days are over now, thank Eywa. Your biology was so different from the na'vi that you didn't even know if it was possible for you to get pregnant from mating with a na'vi male. There are couples of a na'vi and a human out there but none of them ever tried to conceive a hybrid child. The closer someone got to it was the Sully kids who have na'vi and human blood running in their veins but their father had an Avatar body, not a human one, so, it's technically not the same. Why couldn't you just marry a human guy and have a human child?, you may ask. Well, you never knew how to say it without sounding weird but you never felt attracted to the males of your own species. They just looked so plain and boring next to the na'vi men, so passionate, family-oriented and fearless. And also, you couldn't deny that the way they towered over you and their blue skin that shone in the dark because of their freckles played a big part in your feelings too. Yeah, that will never not sound pervy.

You wished you could just mate with the na'vi you fell in love with, but you didn't even know if Neteyam would ever look at you that way. Your small, soft frame might look weird to him. Specially since you were really curvy and a bit fat even for human standards. But still, you dreamt about his big hands touching your skin and his blue beautiful lips kissing yours, so tenderly. Sometimes you woke up and cried, realizing it was indeed just a dream and you were alone laying in your mat.

The na'vi woman you learned to call "mom", Ao'ite, took you as if you had been born from her womb, she always showed you love and took great care of you. And even though she was a great mother to you and you loved her so very much, you never felt like it was enough. It pained you to say it because it sounded ungrateful and even cruel, but you always wondered what it would be like if your parents hadn't die. You didn't remember them, since you were only 2 years old when the murders happened, but you always thought that if they had raised you, maybe you would feel like you belonged somewhere. You loved Pandora and would always call it your one and only home, felt so connected to the trees, animals and oceans, but you would never be a na'vi girl. You could never tame and have your own Ikran or go through any important and beautiful thing only the na'vi can do. That crushed your heart.

You were so lost in your thoughts and immersed on Tuk's little laughs, in a mix of sweetness and sadness, that you didn't even notice how Neytiri's and Jake's older son was looking at you. Neteyam had a spark in his amber eyes when he looked at you holding his little sister. He thought you looked so beautiful and motherly when you played with her. He thought you'd be a great mother one day. He knew how much you wanted to have a family and he only wishes he could be your mate and give you little na'vi children. The smile that was adorning his lips died a bit and he looked away. He didn't know if you found him a suitable mate or if you were just disgusted by how different and odd he looked compared to humans. It hurt him to think maybe you could never reciprocate his feelings. He has loved you since you guys were little kids and he saw your - then weird to him - appearance. He was puzzled in the beginning but with only an hour playing together with you, running through the forest, just close enough so his grandma wouldn't lose sight of the two of you, he found his little heart beating fast inside his chest. And it wasn't just because he had been running, he realized. It was because he knew that you were the one he was gonna chose to be his mate, to spend the rest of his life with, no matter how different from him you looked. What confused him in the beginning was now the most beautiful sight to behold. And it never changed. 15 years later, when you're now both 20 and not 5 anymore, he still looked at you like you were the Pandora skies at night. So beautiful and enchanting to look at. He could look at you for hours, and sometimes he almost did, while you were sitting somewhere in the middle of the people, when they reunited to have meals together at night. You were close enough for him to be able to look at you but far enough for him to not be noticed and perceived as a creep to you.

One day Jake sat next to his elder son and realized who he was looking at. He told his son you were a great girl and he should try courting you if he liked you. Neteyam was shy in the beginning and even denied he was looking at you but his dad knew him far too well so, seconds after that, Neteyam sighed and told his father that he truly loved you and wanted you to be his mate. Jake smiled. That reminded him of what he felt when he was being taught the na'vi ways by Neytiri and fell in love with her. He was immeasurably happy when he realized she loved him too. He just wants his son to be happy and he was glad he had chosen you. Jake always felt something good coming from you. You were like him when he was still stuck in his human body: you loved the na'vi ways more than the human ways and wanted to be one of them. He just wishes it wasn't so dangerous for you to be transfered to an Avatar body. You had once told him you would try, just so you could feel like you were one of the people. But in Jake's heart you were and would always be one of them, even if you were a tiny human girl. And he knew most na'vi felt the same about you. You were really loved by the people.

Neteyam looked at you again, as you were holding his little sister's hands and she was asking you to let her braid your hair. You smiled and said yes and she smiled even wider and started touching your hair. You had beautiful, soft hair and it would always end up a bit entangled when Tuk would braid it. She was a child and was still learning so her braiding skills were still not on point. But you didn't care. You always let her braid your hair and would sit patiently while she did. And you would wear the braids she would make for days, even if they looked a bit funny. It was so special to you how that precious na'vi child showed so much love towards you. Such an innocent little soul. You wished so hard that one day you could have your own na'vi child braiding your hair. Na'vi babies were the cutest thing you had ever seen. Even though you would look enormous carrying a na'vi baby in your belly (if that could ever happen, in your wildest dreams) and you probably would feel so heavy and bloated, you just knew without a shadow of doubt that you would love that child more than you loved your own life and die for the little being if you needed to. To protect them from any harm.

Little did you know you had a na'vi in front you willing to give you as many na'vi babies as you'd let him. Neteyam loved you so much it hurt. And little did he know you loved him too. And little did you both know that having a hybrid child was actually possible.

•.°☆•.°☆•.°

Sooo... it's my first fanfic in English and it's not my first language so please be gentle with me and forgive me for any mistakes. This story is gonna have more parts written soon. I'm thinking of writing some smut within the story and maybe put some breeding kink coming from Neteyam and his human loving it. What do you guys think? Would you want me to? Tell me in the comments haha Please, like and/or reblog this post if you like it. Love you guys 💙

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yuesya · 10 months

Note

Twin AU Muneyoshi: It's for the best that Shiki dies, it's for the clan and Satoru's future, Hina will understand. Well, surprise! Hina DID NOT understand and used all the rest of her life to protect her daughter, FROM you and said clan. Muneyoshi reeks of copium and self-justification, and was probably only truly called out and confronted with his bullshit when Satoru killed him for it. His wife apparently killing herself over it never got through to him. Yue, what did that 'rampage' look like?

Muneyoshi is calm.

His calmness is one born of faith in his clan, and confidence in his elders. He knows what they have planned, in order to remove the imperfection staining the honored one. It would take… extreme measures, quite understandably. The case that they were dealing with was unprecedented, after all. In all cases of cursed twins throughout the clan’s history, there had never been a case of twins bonding with each other as Satoru had done with… as Satoru had done.

It couldn’t be allowed to stand.

Satoru, he thinks helplessly, Why can’t you just understand?

His son is entirely much too like his mother; the thought strikes him with fondness, and sorrow.

Because the whole point of Muneyoshi dirtying his hands with the deed in the first place was so that Satoru would be free from it. Free, and unchained. Muneyoshi wouldn’t let anything –anyone– hold his son down, and yet Satoru saw fit to snap manacles into place around his own wrists, and willingly chain himself once more.

But he would see reason, someday. Muneyoshi was sure that he would. He was sure that he–

The doors behind him abruptly slam open, and the scent of blood fills the air. Muneyoshi exhales slowly, knowing that the deed is done. His son is finally his own once more. Now, all that’s left is to placate the boy and calm him, so that he will know to–

“Got any last words?”

Muneyoshi turns around with a reprimand on his tongue, and his voice dies in his throat.

… Satoru?

His beloved son is covered in blood. There’s a bloody gash split down the middle of his torso, and Muneyoshi’s mind flickers back to what the elders had said –exceptional circumstances, so exceptional measures will have to be taken– but there’s just, there’s just so much blood.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that it looks like they’d tried to split Satoru open.

But… evidently, that hadn’t actually been the case here. Satoru is bloodied and swaying on his feet, but in one piece and standing, whereas the open doors behind him reveal a conspicuous trail of blood and corpses.

Muneyoshi’s throat tightens. “What have you done, Satoru?”

His son laughs. “You’re asking me? Really? Why don’t you think a little harder about what you and the rest of the clan did?”

The man purses his lips. “This was… necessary. Satoru, you are the honored one. Blessed with Six Eyes, and Limitless. The fate of the clan falls upon your shoulders, and it is your duty to lead the jujutsu world–”

“A world like this? I’d rather burn it to the ground before I lift a single finger to lead it,” his son says coldly, and Muneyoshi flinches at the cutting tone. “Shiki wasn’t hurting anyone. You really couldn’t just leave us alone?”

“She’s a cursed spirit!”

“Yeah, ‘cuz you made her into one!” Six Eyes flash with an unholy, burning glow, and Muneyoshi finds himself frozen in place with sudden terror. “And the brilliant idea of putting together that mockery of a ritual to dig her out of me with a carving knife? Yeah, if I didn’t have Shiki with me, I would be dead, thanks for that!”

Muneyoshi shakes his head vigorously. “No, no, no. You have this wrong, Satoru! The elders wouldn’t have–”

“I was dead for ten solid minutes while Shiki was literally putting me back together!”

Muneyoshi stares blankly at his son, uncomprehending. “… But you’re alive.”

The white-haired boy hisses, a frustrated sound. “Whatever. It’s like talking to a brick wall, I swear… if you don’t have anything sensible to say, then I’m just going to go ahead and get this over with.”

Ah.

… Patricide, is it?

Muneyoshi looks up at his son, who stares down at him like a vengeful god, then nods and carefully places the last few sticks of incense in front of Hina’s shrine. His son can’t hear Muneyoshi’s words, and he’d killed all the elders who’d only wanted what was best for him. Years of effort, all down the drain… but oddly enough, Muneyoshi can’t find himself to be upset about it.

Instead, there’s something inside his chest that feels almost… relieved.

“Not in front of your mother,” is his only request. Muneyoshi closes his eyes. “I… won’t apologize. I regret the pain that this has clearly caused you, but it was necessary, Satoru. I’m not sorry for it.”

His son snorts. “Go to hell.”

#QA #Writing #zenith of stars au #twins au #more like the tail end of the rampage haha

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dreamingofep · 7 months

Text

Sinned Awakening pt. 12 🩸

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, angst, masturbation, mentions of blood/gore 🩸

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8.8K

A/N: Hello everyone!

Welcome to part 12! I have been writing a ton for this part and hope you like where these two are going! I sure do 🤭

A reminder, this is Vampire!Elvis so there is going to be mentions of blood/gore from here on out. If that's not your thing, sorry but it's needed for the story.

If you'd like to start from the beginning, start here 🩸

I hope you enjoy and message and comment what you think!🖤

“I don’t want you here,” you say coldly.

“I know, I just needed to see you were safe. I don’t like you in this apartment,” he grumbles.

You shake your head and take in a sharp breath, “you have no right to say such things to me. You don’t own me.” You say forcefully.

The expression on his face turns sorrowful and his stature looks weak, unable to fight you anymore.

“You have every right to hate me…” he sighs.

“Oh trust me, I am not very fond of you at all right now,” you griped.

He looks down at the floor, unable to look at the hurt in your eyes, “I want to apologize for how I acted,” he begins to explain but there’s too much anger inside you to let him finish.

“Oh, which part Elvis? Yelling at me and scaring me off or inviting a woman over to fuck while I’m still in the same room?!” You hiss.

“I… I didn’t fuck her…” he says lightly.

“Oh great, that makes it much better,” you throw back in his face.

He winces at your words and takes a deep breath to try and talk again.

“I didn’t feed either… it felt wrong,” he says quietly. You were surprised by his admission, not expecting him to see your side at all.

“I shouldn’t have acted the way I did. It wasn’t right,” he explains.

“Mhmm,” you agree. “But to make this all easier for you, I’m quitting today. I thought I’d put in my two weeks but the sooner the better. I need to get out of Vegas and start new. I have enough experience that somewhere else will want to hire me,” you say matter-of-factly.

“What? You’re leaving?! That’s not what I meant by not having you around. I don’t want you moving to a new city because of me,” he says surprised.

“You’ll be back here in a few months for your summer engagement, I’m sure you can’t handle being in the same state as me by then,” you grumble.

“Okay, if that’s what you decided…” he says quietly.

“It is. I’ve made my mind up,” you say firmly.

He looks at you longingly, unable to say anything else to make the situation better.

You start to get out of bed, sickened by his face and the whole situation he’s put you in.

“I really thought this could have worked out-,” you start to say and look back at him. But he’s already gone, not a trace of him left behind.

You grumble in frustration to yourself, ticked off that any of this has happened. You decide to take a shower and get ready for the day. You were going to go in at six like everyone else and say your goodbyes. It was the best option for both of you.

You’re all ready to go when you realize you can’t find your keys. You don’t remember the last place you put them but could swear they were in your purse. Searching high and low, you can’t find them anywhere. You get so frustrated that you were careless enough to lose them. The only other place they could have been misplaced was at Anna’s apartment. You rush to the telephone in the kitchen, hoping she is still at home and not at work already.

You dial her number and the phone is dead silent. You try to hang up the phone and redial but it’s still dead. Rushing to the bedroom, you grab that phone and try to dial it. You have similar luck and the phone doesn’t work. Frustration grows inside you as you’re trying to make this all quick and painless by getting to work and quitting. You push the buttons on the phone and lift up the receiver to see if there are some reset instructions or something. As you go to pick it up, you see the phone line has been cut.

Your eyes grow with shock and you have a feeling you know who did this. Your brain scrambles on what to do and decide to double-check inside your car for your keys and hope they’re there.

Opening the door, you start to walk out to the parking lot and don’t see your car anywhere. You cry out in frustration, not believing what is happening. You can’t go anywhere and can’t call the cops about your stolen car either!

You turn around to go back inside to figure something out when you see one of Elvis’ men at your door, Jerry, standing statuesque there looking at you. You rush to him, anger fuming off of you.

“Did he do this?! Did he steal my car?!” You yell at him.

He smirks and shrugs his shoulders, “I mean… he orchestrated it all. That’s what he has us for, to do the job.” He says matter of factly.

“So this was his grand plan?! To keep me held hostage at an apartment he doesn’t even want me to be in?”

“No. The next step was to convince you to get in the car to see him and not leave,” he says pointing to the car pulling up.

You huff frustrated, not able to believe he was playing such an unfair game.

“And if I don’t? What happens if I don’t get in that car,” you scowl.

He chuckles amused at your words, looking down at his watch, “Well, Daniel should be getting home soon so you either stay here and deal with his intoxicated self and explain how you’re leaving him for good or you come with me to see Elvis,” he spats.

Your heart drops at his words. He wasn’t wrong by any means and the last thing you wanted to do was talk to Daniel. But on the other hand, he was presenting you with two evils, neither ending in a good way. You had to choose who you wanted to face and figure out what you wanted.

The sun was rising quickly and noticed how Jerry was shrouding away from the sunlight more and more waiting for your decision. You grumble, not wanting him to be hurt in any way and need him to get inside.

“Get my suitcases in the bedroom.” You say shortly and head for the car waiting for you both.

The car comes to a harsh halt in the back of the hotel and you wait for the driver to tell you it’s okay to get out. After a few moments, Jerry escorts you to an elevator you did not know was there before and it takes you straight to the penthouse.

You feel physically sick being here and have no idea what else there is to say to Elvis.

“Just listen to what he has to say,” Jerry whispers to you.

“Why? After how he’s treated me, I don’t owe him anything,” you tell him.

He sighs, nodding his head, “You’re right. I know he’s not easy to deal with. But give him a chance, he cares about you deeply, even if he has a really harsh way of showing it,” he says as the ding of the elevator goes off and the doors open.

You roll your eyes at that sentiment and get out of the elevator, walking quickly to the suite’s doors.

You take a deep breath before opening the door and prepare yourself for the unpredictable force that is Elvis.

The suite is quiet, nothing out of place, and cold like usual. Your eyes nervously scan the room looking for him so you can get this over with. In the corner of your eye, you see a shadow move quickly.

You snap your attention to it and see Elvis sitting on the sofa.

You suck in a sharp breath seeing him there, looking divine in a black button up. His bare chest gleams underneath it and a gold cross is hanging from his neck. He’s sitting with his legs spread open and the same cane resting between them. Oh, lord, the awful things that cane did to you…

You wince out of that memory and look back at him. He has that familiar look of lust written on his face when he looks at you. Whether it’s blood lust or the sexual kind, you can’t decipher the difference anymore. Your heart hammers away, anxiety filling your veins as you stand there with him silent.

He cocks his head in amusement watching you there, probably enjoying the sound of your fluttering heart in his presence. You don’t want to stand there anymore and be looked at like some object.

“You stole my car?” You say through your teeth.

His face doesn’t waiver, he just keeps looking you over, inspecting every detail.

“Why don’t you sit down,” he instructs, his smooth and sultry voice filling your ears.

“No, I don’t plan on being in here very long,” you spat.

He sighs, bringing his hand to his forehead and looking at the floor.

“I just need to talk to you. I wish you could give me a chance,” he explains

“I’ve given you lots of chances. I’ve given you the benefit of the doubt time and time again but you just break my trust every time. I don’t know how much more I can give you,” you say bluntly.

Your words hit him like a brick, he looks like he’s physically hurt from what you’ve said. He won’t look at you as you wait for him to say something.

“Everything you’ve said is true. I won’t deny that. I just… I couldn’t have you leave before talking to you… that’s why your car was… borrowed,” he smirks. You roll your eyes, annoyed he finds this so amusing.

“And my phone? What was the purpose of that?!” You scowl.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t have you do anything drastic before talking to me.”

“I do something drastic?! And stealing my car and cutting my phone lines was a normal response to me wanting to start my life over?”

You’re so fed up with his behavior, it was selfish and controlling and you didn’t want him being like this.

“I know, that was a bit much but I knew you weren’t going to listen. I just want you to get out of that apartment and get somewhere safe. Please, stay with me. I worry about you and it would make me happy knowing that you’re somewhere safe.” He tries to explain.

As much as you knew you needed to get out of that place, staying with Elvis wasn’t a better situation necessarily.

“You want me here? With a bloodthirsty vampire? Or should I say, stay with a whole clan of bloodthirsty vampires,” you say pointing to the door of where his men are standing.

“They have better control than me surprisingly. And they would never hurt you. So don’t worry about them,” he says.

“So just worry about you?” You say flatly.

He winces again, your words cutting through him like knives.

“That’s the thing, I don’t want you to worry anymore. I hate putting that strain on you.” He slowly gets up, walking closer to you.

“I want you to trust me again. Without hesitation. I want to touch you again and have you like it. Just like the very first time,” he sighs, reaching out to touch your face but restrains himself.

“You’ve lied to me, a lot. You have to understand how that messes me up. Most of the men in my life, that’s all they do with me is lie. I want it to be different with you,” you explain.

“And it can be different honey. I promise I can make you happy,” he assures, taking a few more steps towards you, getting dangerously close.

You take a step back from him, feeling overwhelmed by his presence already.

“It’s not just about that Elvis. Your little games you play, they can’t be happening with me. I’m not just some pawn on your chessboard. You have to make me believe you care. That I’m not just another girl you’re stringing along if what you say is true of how you feel about me.”

“All my life, men have constantly pushed me aside and made me some commodity. I’m done with that. I’m thirty now and I know I deserve better. Much better. You have to prove to me you can do better than the rest of them,” you plead.

You didn’t feel you were being unreasonable. Those were your conditions. If he wanted you to stick around, he had to prove in more than one way he was committed to you.

You wait expectingly for him to answer you, seeing if he is willing to really change. He takes a few more steps toward you, falling to his knees in front of you. He places his hands on the back of your thighs, looking up at you longingly. His hands feel like wildfire on your skin, trying to consume any logical thought and let the sparks of lust you have for him overtake your body. You peel his hands off of you even though you love the way they feel on you.

“No touching me, you said you wouldn’t. Tell me what you’re going to do with your words and not your hands,” you say firmly.

He sits back on his heels, looking at you with a pout and his eyes begging for your approval.

“Baby, please… I’m going to show you, time and time again, how important you are to me. How much I care about you and how much I need you,” he confesses. “I want you to want me again, not only emotionally but physically too. Please stay, I need you, baby,” he breathed.

Everything inside you screams to touch him, comfort him in some way, but you can’t allow yourself to submit to him like that. He has to prove all of what he said. You know he was a smooth talker and he would say just about anything to win you over. He was a pro at his own game.

“Okay. I’ll give you a chance and stay for a while,” you reply. He lets out a sigh of relief and smiles at you. “But you have to give me privacy. No watching me sleep or any other things you do without me knowing.” You insinuate. He looks like he got caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar and is about to protest but you cut him off.

“No arguments. Promise me,” you say.

“I promise. I just worry about you and need to make sure you’re okay,” he says sheepishly.

“Well unless I scream or something, I don’t need to be watched twenty-four-seven,” you say.

You know he doesn’t like it, but he nods his head in agreement, “Okay baby,” he says weakly.

You step away from him and grab your suitcase that was left at the front door. You start to drag it away, passing the normal guest room you’ve stayed in before.

“Where are you goin’?” He asks panicked.

“I wanted to stay in another room. This place is so big I might as well explore,” you say cheekily.

He stands up nervously and his eyes grow concerned, “But you’re so far away from me…” he says softly.

You smile at him cutely, “That’s exactly the point,” you say winking at him before walking off to the other side of the suite.

You unpack your things and conflicting emotions come flooding in. On the one hand, you were happy you were gone from that apartment and you wouldn’t have to deal with Daniel, but on the other hand, your future with Elvis made you quite apprehensive.

There was no guarantee that Elvis would gain enough control to be around you where he didn’t want to eat you alive. This was all so tricky. You had to be patient with him and really help him with this process.

Another uncertain aspect of this all was what was going to happen when he left Vegas. In previous years, he usually went on tour right after his Vegas engagements and won’t be back here til the summer. Did you want him gone that long? Were you two in a more serious relationship where you could ask him what’s going to happen when he leaves? It almost feels counterproductive to have him learn all this self-control and then have him fall into his bad habits as soon as he leaves this place.

You couldn’t help but be mad at yourself for thinking such things. You wish you could just cut this thing off with Elvis but it literally feels impossible. He means too much to you even if he isn’t human anymore. Your heart needed him around and that scared you to pieces.

As you’re unpacking, you stumble across your bathing suit. It wasn’t blazing hot outside but you needed some sun. You thought this might help you get some clarity and enjoy the fresh air. You take off your clothes and slip on the bathing suit. You grab a blanket off the bed to bring with you in case you get chilly.

It was eleven and there shouldn’t be too many people by the pool at this time. You go to the elevator and make your way outside. There’s a perfect spot where the sun is hitting and once you feel the sunshine on you, it melts your worries away.

You lay there for about an hour when you suddenly feel a shadow over you. You open your eyes and see Anna smirking at you.

“Well it must be nice to be able to sit out by the pool on a working day,” she teases. You giggle at her and sit up to make room for her to sit down on the sun chair.

“Hey now. I deserve a little break. These last few days have been... rough to say the least.” You say awkwardly.

She nods her head in agreement, “No, you’re completely right. I’m sorry. I had to come by to see you. I was cleaning one of the rooms up there and I looked out the window and saw this hot babe sunbathing and was like wait… that’s my best friend!” She giggles. You cover your face embarrassed, but thankful she always knows what to say to cheer you up.

“Yeah it’s just me, contemplating my life as usual,” you jest.

“What’s been going on?” She asks gently.

You take a deep breath and take off your sunglasses to look at Anna.

“Well… Elvis is complicated, just need to preface that before I explain,” you start to say. Anna starts laughing, “Yeah, I could have told you that based on how he dresses!” She teases.

You push her shoulder and laugh a bit too hard.

“Stop it! I’m trying to tell you something serious!” You chuckle.

“Okay, I’m listening I’m sorry,” she says covering her mouth.

“Okay, so to briefly explain, Elvis called me up to the penthouse to basically fire me. He told me he didn’t want me around and I was pretty crushed. Then I got to the apartment to pack up everything and he showed up saying he couldn’t get away from me. And well, now I’m here, staying with him for the time being,” you say carefully. She looks at you in shock, not believing the things you just said.

“Wait what?! You’re going to stay with him even though he said he doesn’t want you here?”

“It’s more complicated than that and there’s something I can’t delve into…” you confess.

She nods her head, not liking the answer but respects your space.

“That’s… a lot. This is all happening so quickly. Have you two talked about what you’re going to do once he leaves?”

Your stomach drops at the notion, unable to think about when he does leave, where does that leave you in his life?

“I don’t know yet… we do need to talk about it. In a way, I do just want to enjoy the next few weeks with him but I know reality is going to come knocking and I can’t play pretend anymore.”

Behind Anna, you notice someone coming in your direction. It was Jerry again, wincing when he stepped into the sunlight. He doesn’t look at you straight away and stands in front of the lounge chair looking away.

“What’s going on? How did you know I was out here?” You ask him. He gives you a look like you should know better.

“You should know by now. But Elvis is requesting you to come to dinner with him this evening at five-thirty before his show tonight.” He says.

You look at him for a moment and look back at Anna who’s in shock.

He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash that makes your eyes shoot wide open.

“And he told you to treat yourself. Get your nails done or go buy yourself a dress if you want,” he says handing you the money. You don’t know what to do with so much money and can’t possibly spend it all in one day!

“Okay, tell him I’ll be there,” you say sheepishly.

He turns to leave quickly, getting out of the sun that is surely burning him.

You look back at Anna and look at her in shock.

“You want to go shopping with me?” She nods her head quickly and you both rush back into the hotel.

Anna convinced you to make it a whole day to pamper yourself like Elvis wanted. You started with trying on dresses and you must have tried on a million. You knew Elvis always dressed to the nines and you wanted to do the same. But you were too picky and nothing felt right. Everything felt too informal or too over the top. There has to be a perfect middle ground for this dinner.

You had to admit, this was a nice gesture coming from Elvis. Having dinner with a vampire was never on your list of things to do but here you are. It did show you he was a bit serious when it came to showing you how much he cared for you. You don’t remember the last time you went to a nice dinner with a man.

After going to store after store, you finally found the dress for the evening. You decided on a mid-length, midnight blue cocktail dress. It was embellished with some sequins at the waist and was flowy, making each movement you made dazzling.

The next stop of the day was getting your nails done. You decided on a simple French tip and a shorter length. Anna convinced you to get your hair and makeup done too. You had plenty of money to do it and thought it might not be such a bad idea. You found a well-known beauty salon nearby and had her cut and curl your hair into loose waves. You kept your makeup simple and wanted a shimmery eye shadow to make the whole look pop.

You walked out of there feeling like a new woman. It was so nice to do and you were so thankful Elvis was so generous to you.

Maybe he does have a working heart somewhere in there.

It was almost five and you knew you needed to make it back to the hotel to be on time for dinner. Anna says goodbye to you and wishes you good luck at dinner.

You quickly make your way upstairs and get changed. Being fully dressed with your hair and makeup done, you look at yourself in the mirror almost unable to recognize yourself. Sad to admit, but you stopped caring for yourself in a way. You had no one that cared for how you looked so you never went out of your way to do your makeup or curl your hair to get them to notice. The only time you have was for Elvis’ party and that says a lot.

It was getting close for you to leave so you decide to slip your heels on and make your way into the living room where you hope Elvis is waiting for you. The marble floors make your heels click louder than you like and make your heart race in anticipation to see what Elvis thinks of your dress. Part of you was insecure, not used to looking like this around anyone, and lacking confidence in yourself.

You turn the corner and you have to hold your breath, he looks irresistible. He was wearing a black velvet suit with nothing underneath his jacket and a red and blue silk scarf hanging from his neck. He wore his gold cross and TCB necklace and his fingers were adorned with various gold shiny rings. He looks so attractive so mouth-wateringly good, if the situation was different, you would say fuck dinner, and have him screw you instead.

But you know he’s not ready for that and you most definitely weren’t either. As much as you wanted to, it scared you a bit to be that close to him and not worry that he was not going to hurt you. That was a huge amount of trust he needed to earn in order to do that again.

Your eyes continue to wander all over him and you can’t seem to tear them away from his face. He looks a little different. Was it his hair? The last few times you saw him, it had been ruffled and unkempt. It does look shorter and it was more slicked back but still fluffy. His sideburns were also shorter and well-trimmed. You weren’t sure, but if you weren’t mistaken, he looked younger. Not that drastically but there was a different glow about him.

And then it hit you. You realize what he is trying to do. He’s trying to lure you in. Tempt you.

He didn’t need to do that at all since you were already so attracted to him but you must say, this look has you feeling weak already. He stood there with a different confidence. Like the one he had when he first came to Vegas. It was almost cocky and pompous but he smiles and you see that it's all a facade.

He was wearing his sunglasses but when you continue to stand there not saying a word, he takes them off to look at you. Your cheeks instantly turn red, knowing you are the object of his desire. He takes a few steps closer and a smirk forms on his face.

“Don’t you look… stunning,” he sighs, continuing to look you over. “Can you turn for me?” He asks, moving to the side of you.

You’re hesitant, showered by self-doubt but his pleading eyes make it hard for you to say no.

You slowly turn on the ball of your foot, letting your arms peel away from your sides so the dress moves when you do. You’re too afraid to look back at him and you close your eyes once you’re about to turn to face him. You hear him chuckle to himself and you don’t dare to look at him.

“Open those beautiful eyes darlin’,” he says, his smooth baritone voice pouring over you like syrup. You listen and look into his dazzling oceanic eyes, pulling you in with every bat of his long eyelashes.

“You look so gorgeous,” he praises, taking a smaller step closer to you. You look down at the floor momentarily then back up at him, not believing your eyes of how much he’s changed in a matter of hours.

“And you… you didn’t need to change for me to want you,” you say sheepishly.

He bites his lip, shaking his head at you, “I know, I just wanted to. I need people to think I’m not stuck as a twenty-four-year-old remember,” he says coyly, giving you a wink that just about makes you want to collapse.

“Are you ready to go?” He asks.

“Sure, where are we going?”

“One of the best restaurants in Las Vegas,” he smirks at you before opening the door. You walk out into the hallway and feel a dozen eyes bore into you, looking at every inch of exposed skin. You instantly get nervous and behind you, you hear a deep growl form in Elvis' chest that makes all the men look away and just about scares the living daylights out of you. You look back at him in bewilderment and he walks in front of you, pushing the elevator button with a smile on his face.

“Sorry about that honey, I live with a bunch of animals I swear,” he jokes as the elevator doors open and he gestures for you to come inside.

He gives you space but being in such a small confine, his presence is nevertheless suffocating. You feel like you’re holding your breath the whole way down and he looks like he’s doing the same. You finally reach the lobby and there’s already one of his men outside the elevator doors to escort you two to the car waiting outside. Elvis lets you walk in front, making sure no one is following and you’re in his eyesight. In the valet area, there stood Elvis’ 1971 Stutz Blackhawk. The car was stunning and unlike anything you had ever seen. The interior was also all black with dark wood on the dashboard. Elvis helps you get in the passenger seat and shuts the door for you. A few people spot him and scream his name and he kindly waves to them before getting into the driver’s side of the car. He glances over at you, looking down at your legs, the back up to your face, “You ready to go?” He asks smugly.

“Mhmm, I’m ready,” you say.

“Okay hold on tight, I drive fast,” he teases, turning the key to start the car. You laugh at him and feel the jolt of the car accelerating and the sound of the tires screeching on the pavement. You hold onto the door handle and watch as you both zoom by all the other cars and weave in and out of traffic. You’ve never driven in a car going so fast and it petrifies you but at the same time, you can’t help but laugh uncontrollably.

He had a big smile on his face the entire time, probably knowing this would scare you but be fun to do anyway. You watched his face, showing how much he loved this and how he almost looked childlike. Just pure happiness radiated off of him and it made you like to see that side of him for a change.

He parks in the back of the restaurant where the valet is and hands the man the keys and a twenty-dollar bill. He quickly, almost too quickly, rushes to open your door and help you get out, offering his hand out for you to grab onto. You hesitate to touch him, unsure if it’s right, but you do anyway and get out of the car much easier. He shuts the door behind you and drops your hand, placing his hand on your lower back, and escorting you into the restaurant.

You both reach the host stand and the girl’s face lights up when she sees Elvis. It doesn’t bother you, you completely understand her reaction because you had a very similar one when you saw him in this suit. She takes you two back to an exclusive area where it was completely empty and sectioned off by glass doors from the rest of the restaurant. There was only one large table in the room and two chairs at opposite ends of the table. Elvis thanks the girl for her help and she quickly leaves, closing the door behind her and shutting the drapes that were on the outside of the doors.

The room was low-lit and was decorated beautifully. There were pictures of Las Vegas from the 50s and the first hotels ever built. It was interesting to you how this desolate place in the desert grew to become one of the most liveliest places on the planet. There were glasses of red wine on the table already and the menu sitting on top of your rolled napkin and plate.

Elvis helps you sit down and pushes your chair in then goes to sit on the other end of the table. You both are abnormally quiet. The circumstances of your situation are complex and there wasn’t a playbook on how to make a vampire not want to go in a frenzy around you. He looks at you from across the table and then back down at the menu.

Were you making him nervous? Maybe you have more power than you think, you think smugly to yourself.

A waiter comes in and asks if we would like any appetizers. Elvis gently tells him we need a few more moments to look at the menu. The waiter steps outside and leaves you two to wallow in the thick silence you two have created. You watch as Elvis continues to look at the menu, seriously contemplating what he is going to order.

“What are you doing exactly? Can you eat?” You ask carefully.

He chuckles, amused by your candor, “If you mean can I chew my meal, then yes, yes I can. I haven’t forgotten how to do that yet,” he teases. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep you from smiling like an idiot.

“Ah, I see… does food taste the same?” You ask.

“Hmm… no. It’s all very bland. I wish I could enjoy it the way I used to. Now I just eat food when I need to put on an act and make everyone believe I’m perfectly normal. Then excuse myself to the bathroom, which is a very human thing to do, and just chuck it all up” he winks at you. You cover your face from laughing and look at him shaking your head.

“Sounds like you’re a pro at being human and stuff,” you snicker.

He can’t help but laugh at you, “In a sense, yes. But it's ultimately because my body doesn’t process food anymore so it's the only way to do it. It's only able to take in blood as nourishment…” he says uncomfortably.

You nod your head and keep looking at the menu. The waiter comes back and you both order your entrees. You decided to order a steak and mashed potatoes and Elvis ordered the same. There was an undeniable awkwardness in the air and you didn’t know how to break in. In a way, Elvis had a lot of work to do and he was the one that needed to make extra effort, not you. You sip on your wine and watch as he does the same. His eyes never leave you as he takes a sip from the dark red cabernet in his glass. You watch as he licks his lips after drinking and smooths his hair back on the sides.

You have to look away, he gives off too much tension and you feel as though you’re going to choke on it. You hear him get up from his chair and drag it behind him, bringing it to the side of you and sitting down there.

“You were too far away,” he says coyly. You scoff to yourself, not believing that you of all people can make a vampire turn into a pile of mush.

“You look so beautiful tonight, I’m in awe of you,” he marvels.

“Well, thank you for taking me out. And thank you for letting me go out and get pampered. It was very nice. I can’t remember the last time I ever did that for myself,” you explain.

“You deserve it, I thought you might enjoy a day to yourself. You really outdid yourself with the dress. It was just made for you,” he boasts, his eyes falling drunk at the sight of you. You breathe in sharply, trying to not get overwhelmed by him.

“You look very nice yourself. Would have never thought you’re a vampire with how much black you own,” you tease. He laughs at your little joke taking another sip of wine.

“It’s a good color on me don’t lie,” he quips.

He was right, it made him look extra tempting and mysterious and his pale features and his blue eyes popped when he wore any black clothing. You drink some more of your wine too and the waiter comes in to fill your glasses again. You weren’t normally a wine drinker but tonight was an exception, just like every other night you spent with Elvis.

“What’s your favorite color on me?” You ask slyly, shooting your eyebrows up at him waiting for his response. He smugly laughs to himself, rubbing the rim of the wine glass with his index finger, making you get very distracted by those small little motions around the rim.

“I don’t think you want my response to that,” he jests.

“No, no, come on. You told me you wouldn’t lie anymore. Just tell me,” you urge.

He smirks at the glass then looks back up at you, “I prefer you naked and covered in me. But this shade of blue you have on is my next favorite thing,” he boasts.

You stare at him in utter shock, unable to form any logical thoughts other than what just came out of his mouth with such ease. You cover your mouth and look down into your lap, completely shell-shocked at him.

“Goddamn that was… very honest. I’m not quite sure what to do with that information now,” you blush. He chuckles again and you drink some more of your wine to let the awkwardness pass.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m really not. It was the first thing that came to my mind and it’s the truth so…” he teases. You are already such a mess because of him but you know that’s what he wants. He wants to distract you from the bigger issues you two are facing. But you’re not going to let him get away with it. You still need to get answers from him and get him to have some control.

“Well thank you for telling me the truth then, no matter how lewd it might be,” you taunt.

“I’m an open book, I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he assures.

Your food arrives and it smells heavenly. Your glass is once again filled and you know you need to take it easy or you’re going to be drunk very soon. You take a bite of your mashed potatoes and continue to deal with this topic of honesty with Elvis.

“Okay, when was the last time you fed,” you say bluntly. He clears his throat and wipes his mouth with his napkin. He looks at you and takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Yesterday. I drank from a blood bag before I went to your apartment.” He says, shame filling his voice.

“Oh, I see. And how do you feel around me since then…” you ask softly.

He smiles at you and takes a bite of food before answering you.

“I feel fine. I do feel better when I’m close to you. Your scent calms me in a way… I don’t know how else to describe it. But I don’t want to take a bite out of your or anything,” he quips.

You take a few more bites and try to not let any of what he says freak you out too much. You asked him for the truth and that’s what he is going to give you.

You sit back in your chair, bringing your wine glass to your chest, “why did you say that drinking my blood has made you only crave mine? Was that something hurtful to say to me to drive me away or was that the truth?”

“As harsh as it was, and I’m sorry for that, it’s the truth. Nothing is quite as fulfilling as yours. I feel significantly stronger and energetic…” he trails off a bit insecure talking about this.

“Why? Why is it like that with mine? Have you felt like this with anyone else’s?” You question.

“I’m trying to find answers but so far I don’t know. I want to go talk to other vampires in the area and see if they’ve heard about things like this and see where we can go from here… I have a suspicion it’s because I have… feelings for you. But there isn’t a definite answer that I can find so I’m sorry, but I don’t know,” he says sorrowfully.

You nod your head and understand he’s trying and it’s not like he doesn’t want to try to figure out what’s going on with you two. There was sure to be a weird, supernatural explanation that you were most likely not going to handle well. Your heart fluttered a bit when he admitted he had feelings for you. It was nice to hear coming from his lips. And as much as he’s lied to you, you couldn’t help but agree that you had some intense feelings for him too.

Another notion popped into your head about this all and you hesitated to even ask it. You didn’t want to tick him off and you’re hoping he won’t get mad at you for asking.

“If you don’t want to answer this, it's fine but, you were married for a while… didn’t you ever have these same feelings with her?” You ask gently, sipping on your wine and wincing at the question at hand.

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head, “no. No I didn’t. She actually never knew I was a vampire,” he says smugly.

You choke on your wine and you look at him in shock.

“What?! How did you not tell her?!” You sputtered.

“I did. I told her multiple times but she would freak out every time so I just made her forget to make both of our lives easier. There was this one time I told her and she didn’t talk to me for days. She thought I was a complete monster and wouldn’t look at me, so I’d make her forget I ever told her and everything was okay. But I’d…umm,” he stops, looking at you uncomfortably.

“Go on,” you urge.

“I’d feed on her. All the time. I was not the best husband, to say the least…but that’s why it didn’t work out… and she couldn’t accept me for who I was so that’s how I knew I couldn’t be with her anymore.” He shrugs.

You stare at him in shock, not believing that he did all of that.

“Holy shit… you just lied to her for years and fed off of her with no repercussions?” You ask.

“Yeah, again, I was not great and I did feel bad. Basically making her my feeding bag for years on end… I do have a moral compass still even if you don’t think so,” he teases you. You laugh at him, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“I know you do, I don’t think you’re a monster,” you say softly. He smiles at you, liking how you remind him of that.

“Thank you, honey, I know you don’t. I’m trying to prove that to you more and more and prove it to myself. Because I know what we have, what we feel for each other is something more,” he reaches for your hand and stops himself, looking at you for approval. You hesitate and set your wine glass back on the table.

You push your chair back and clear your throat, “I’m going to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back,” you say smiling at him. He nods his head at you and you begin to stand up. But the moment you stand, the room feels like it's spinning.

Goddamn it.

You take a deep breath and pray to God Elvis won’t notice how intoxicated you are. You walk slowly out to the main area of the restaurant and manage to find the bathroom with ease. You wash your hands and look at yourself in the mirror and see your face a bit flushed and your eyes glassy. You sigh and laugh at yourself, not believing you really got drunk sipping on expensive wine while Elvis tells you stories of his past. You wipe off your remaining lipstick and comb through your hair with your fingers. You give yourself one last look in the mirror and make your way back to Elvis.

You open the door to the back section you’re sitting at and carefully sit in your chair. You don’t want to look at him and hope he doesn’t notice anything different about you.

You take another sip of wine and he chuckles to himself.

“Baby?” He asks in between his airy laughs.

“Hmm?” You say nonchalantly.

“Are you... drunk?” He asks.

You look at him and nod your head, “Mhmm… maybe a little,” you slur and giggle.

He bursts out in laughter and leans back in his chair, “My, my, what am I going to do with you? I’m going to have to carry you home hmm?” He teases.

“No, no I’m fine,” you protest, “I can walk.”

The waiter comes by again and brings you two dessert and you have never eaten a piece of cheesecake so fast in your life. It tasted so good and Elvis watches you giggle to yourself as you take the last few sips of wine left in your glass.

“What’s going on in that head of yours hmm?” He asks cheekily.

“Nothing… I just can’t believe you ate a whole meal with me to try and impress me.” You giggle.

He looks at you longingly, smirking as he watches you giggle to yourself. “It was worth it honey. Let's get you back okay?” You agree and you both make your way out of the restaurant.

Elvis doesn’t drive as fast on the way back…well, at least you don’t think he did. The entire drive felt like a blur and you were in your own world as he drove back to the hotel. He helps you get out of the car as you clumsily stumble out of it, grasping onto his jacket for support. He is amused by it all and escorts you upstairs. You both get into the elevator and the jolt of the cart makes you almost fall over, holding onto Elvis’ scarf for support once again. He holds you up from underneath your arms and settles you there.

“Oops…s-sorry,” you slur.

“It’s okay baby, I gotcha,” he hums.

You reach the penthouse and he supports you by having an arm around your waist, guiding you in a straight line to the suite’s doors.

Once you get in the living room, you kick off your heels and start to make your way to your bedroom.

“Darlin’?” Elvis’ voice stops you in your tracks and you turn around.

“Hmm?"

“I have to do my show in half an hour, are you going to be okay up here by yourself?” He asks.

“Oh yeah, I’ll be fiiiiiinnneeee,” you insisted.

He covers his face from laughing at you and you start to turn away again. The cool marble floor felt nice on your feet since you felt uncharacteristically hot. You reach behind you to try and unzip your dress but with the lack of functioning motor skills, you can't reach the zipper.

“Elvis!” You say loudly. You turn around and see him coming toward you with an inquisitive look on his face.

“What is it, baby?” He says gently.

“Can you help me get out of my dress?” You ask shyly.

His eyes look drunkenly over your body and he walks slowly toward you.

Everything about him was screaming at you to touch him. His exposed chest was driving you crazier than usual and the way those pants fit him just right in all the right places was killing you. Your heart began to race the closer he got to you until he stopped right in front of you, looking down at your pleading eyes.

“Turn around,” he commands.

You feel your heart hammer away as you slowly turn around and pull your hair to the side to expose the dress’ zipper.

He’s extremely careful, pulling gently on the zipper and exposing your bare back to him. You hear him take a sharp breath in as more skin gets shown. He reaches the end of the zipper and a peek of your panties gets shown to him. You wore black lace ones that you had no intention of showing Elvis, but you knew he liked you in this kind so it wasn’t easy for him to just ignore this sight. You feel his thumb graze the small of your back, sliding down to where your panties were and back up again. He lets go of the zipper and you turn around to face him, clutching the dress to your chest with your arms. He clears his throat, his chest visibly rising and falling quickly.

“There you go,” he says quietly.

You step even closer to him, your chests almost touching, “thank you,” you sigh.

You let your arms reach up to grab his scarf, letting the dress fall like a puddle at your feet.

He takes another sharp breath, trying not to look at your body.

“Thank you for everything,” you whisper, looking up at him and seeing how distractingly gorgeous he is.

“Of course,” he says softly.

A brazen flood of intense emotions hit you and the raging desire to have his lips on yours floods your mind. You feel like you can’t focus on anything else other than those lips and need them now.

“Can I give you a good luck kiss for tonight’s shows?” You ask, pushing your body on his and feeling the fire ignite. He grunts when he feels your body touch his and his eyebrows furrow.

“If that’s what you want, then yes,” he says breathlessly.

You pull at his scarf harder, trying to get him to reach down to kiss you. You tangle your fingers in his hair and feel the flames of both of your desires consume the kiss. It felt like a lifetime since the last time he kissed you. There’s so much pent-up tension between you two that a kiss feels like heaven. You give him another one and a small moan slips out of your mouth. It all feels too good to hide and his hands find your back and he groans into your mouth when his skin feels yours.

But he instantly pulls his hands away and slowly retracts from your kiss. You watch as his chest heaves and his eyes burn into yours with lust.

“Thank you, baby.” He sighs.

You nod your head and watch as his eyes finally look at your body. You can’t help but do the same and glance down at the erection forming in his pants. You quickly look back up at his face and try to not blush.

“I’ll see you after my shows,” he assures.

You step out of your dress and walk toward your bedroom again, feeling his eyes stare at your backside. You close your door gently and let out a huge breath. That went way too far and by the feel of it, your racing heart rate shows the impact he left on you. You decide to put on some different clothes to lounge in til Elvis’ lively after-party starts. You go to sit on the bed and feel that familiar sticky wetness in your panties. You slip your hand into them and find the mess Elvis created. You sigh, hating that he gets you this way so easily. You actually loved it though, loved his hands on you and set your heart on fire. You know he can probably hear everything you’re doing in here and should control yourself. At this point you don’t care, you were way too drunk to care and you wanted to take care of this. You were wound up more than you thought because once your fingers find your clit, you have to stifle a moan. It doesn’t take long when you see Elvis’ long fingers in your mind that make you want to come apart. You put more pressure on your aching bud and stars flood your eyes and you cover your mouth from any moans escaping. You knew he was listening, wishing he was in here making you come apart but he was keeping his promise. He was doing everything in his power to be the one who finally listens.

Tagging 🖤:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @elvispresleyxo @loving-elvis

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#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presely smut #elvis smut #elvis fic #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis x oc #vampire elvis #sinned awakening #samfangirls #70s elvis #elvis #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x reader

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galaxygirl8880 · 1 year

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Hi hi

Remember this post??

I like- really want to write the fic

And I'm thinking of naming it something along the lines of "Alone and Asleep"

Actually maybe a series

Idk I suck at naming things

But anyways I have an alternate idea about how this au could go-

---

Cale's memory goes *blip* after two thousand years.

He only remembers his past life, really blurry memories of the people living in the villa, and the fact that he's supposed to take care of it. (and figure out a way to wake up the sleeping residents)

So he just sticks to a routine, ignoring the intense feelings of sorrow when he goes to each room to dust or change their sheets.

Especially the kids rooms.

He makes little to no attempts at gaining his memory back, figuring that he's content with his life as it is. What if it's like his time as Kim Rok Soo? He wouldn't want to remember that.

Although possibly he may have to find another place to live once they wake up. His job will be done after all. His current bank account status should be more than enough to buy himself several castles-

The grocery runs to the nearby village aren't really too eventful. Sometimes the villagers look at him with sadness, which he doesn't particularly like.

There is a kitchen in the villa that he tends to avoid, unless it's for cleaning. Then he leaves that place spotless. Perhaps one of the residents asked him to clean it? Either way, he uses a kitchen right next to it to cook his meals, (sometimes finding it hard to even make himself eat once per day) even thinking about using the other kitchen makes him shiver.

Cale tends to gravitate towards lemon tea.

He hates bitter things.

He makes periodic checks on the current king or queen of Roan. They've become familiar with his presence as he makes sure the children aren't learning anything bad or being neglected. (They're quite fond of him for some reason-)

The greenhouse is where he spends most of his time. Journaling his discoveries on poisons and all sorts of plants. The ones that are used to wake up coma patients are the majority of plants in his journal.

The butterflies are quite friendly. He's lonely

---

Ah.

They're waking up.

He's been all over the place, listening to the steadily growing noise all over the villa and making sure they don't fall over after being basically dead for so long. (He almost attacked the red head who stumbled into the greenhouse, not being used to noise that was not his own)

His first priority are the children, of course.

Cale answered the many questions to the best of his ability. Why they called him "young master" or "Cale-nim" was beyond him.

As they gathered into the dining room to hear what had happened, Cale had to work hard to repress the feelings that made him want to burst into tears.

When he'd explained that they'd basically been in a coma for years, they were understandably pretty shocked. There were tears, people who wanted to take a moment to themselves to process, and questions. So many questions.

How long has it been? Over three thousand years.

Were you also asleep? No.

Why are you acting so off? He's acting normally.

What did you do then? Took care of you.

Do you remember us??

....no.

----

So this is another route this au could go, different from the original post-

Apologies because this is a bit all over the place-

(I wanted to mention something else but forgot ;-;)

#tcf #cale henituse #tcf rosalyn #tcf cale #trash of the count's family #tcf fic #choi han #raon miru #alberu crossman #tcf fic idea #tcf fic ideas #tcf beacrox #cale angst #tcf angst #memory loss

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jinkookspencil · 8 months

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my daisy | kth

you're late... but your lifelong crush helps you get ready

description/tags: taehyung one-shot / angst and suggestive / taehyung is her childhood family friend and neighbor / historical!AU! / this can be any historical era you wish it to be, it was inspired by the regency era, bridgerton, and taehyungs photofolio but it can be the early 1900s if you want it to be too it's really not that specific / ~1.9k words

rating: 18+ minors dni / 18+ even though it's suggestive because it starts out in an 18+ way but reader is alone (she is touching herself) /

author's note: this is my first time writing taehyung!! i had this written in my drafts for a while, intending to publish it when layover was out in celebration of him! <3 finally completely edited for like the third time and now i can finally get to work on my requests. i hope you guys like it :') i literally gave him one of my favorite scenarios of all time.

A chill summer breeze wafts through the windows, cooling your otherwise sweltering bedroom… though a bead of sweat forms at your hairline, for your bare body still radiated heat.

The sudden air against your folds tickled, right while you’d been playing and feeling through and within them while lying atop the restricting cotton bedsheets, your other hand lost in the tangles of your own hair.

“T-t-t….” you moan into the dimly lit room, imagining it’d been the hand of your brother’s best friend getting you close to the edge instead of your own. His name almost slips from your lips….

But the man himself storms into your room instead.

“Mr. Kim!” you screech, seeing him at your side at once. Quick to grab the pillow from beneath your hips and jerk the sheet below until it was free from its tidy dressing onto the mattress, you were unkemptly covered in seconds. “Get out!”

But Kim Taehyung still stood before you, head merely tilted downwards, waiting for you to properly wrap your bare body with the fabric. Tugging the thin sheet tightly at the back, you'd been oblivious to the fact that it outlined every curve and dip of your figure and truly, was all the more tantalizing to the man before you who'd been obviously failing his attempts not to steal glances at you through his periphery. It was unsurprising.

Taehyung had always been a menace. The boy never listened, never followed any rules except his own, and evidently never learned how to knock on another’s door.

It was no secret to your family that you'd been smitten with Taehyung, the neighbor’s only grandson, since childhood, long before he grew to be your brother's most trusted friend. He'd been your friend first, after all, until the two of you had come of age and society deemed such a friendship inappropriate with youthful, hurried engagements, infatuations, and hormone-riddled courtships running amuck...

It proved to be a lifelong infatuation that followed you into womanhood, and though the days spent picking flowers, reading fairy tales, and ‘make-believe teatime’ were long behind you, his friendship with your brother still kept Taehyung in your life, and you were as thankful for it as the fond, playful memories of your youth.

The sheer power of your own feelings only made itself apparent when he’d went away to begin his apprenticeship in France with no promise of an engagement or any indication of reciprocated feelings. Despite an initial sorrow, the longing had turned into an ache in your chest that seemed impossible to ignore, only slightly remedied by his occasional letters and gifts. It was a short-lived hope that he could still be yours. His return as society’s most eligible, handsome, and accomplished bachelor only made it harder to confess - for everyone fell under Taehyung's spell.

With rumors of his charming reputation and dedicated work in France swirling through society and countless men and women organizing courting arrangements before he'd even arrived a month ago, you thought to make haste with your confession, but your half-written love letters were ultimately kept away in the drawers right behind where he'd stood now, with the postcards, letters, and gifts he'd sent you over that time. And you'd spent all those nights with him away just as you had tonight, imagining he'd been there, in your very room, bare as you'd been right beside you... And it had to have happened as such.

“Oh, I apologize, Miss_____,” he says calmly, and the hint of a smirk appears on his face before he turns to face away from you, “But I’m here on orders of your dear mother. You’re, uhm, expected?”

Fuck. You lost track of time.

“Should I tell her you’re not feeling well?”

“No. No, I have to be there, sir. I’m expected to make at least one possible match tonight,” you panic, slithering into the undergarments you’d discarded by the bed earlier. Too hasty to feel shame, and, for the first time, thankful that women’s undergarments cover more than they ever should, you march to the wooden partition, only for your corset to be in Taehyung’s hands.

“Allow me to help,” he offers with a smile. “Your sisters are furious at your being late already, and well, I’m the only one who won’t give you an earful.”

You resign, stepping between Taehyung and the mirror and readying yourself into the corset. Looking at your reflection, you could see your figure and breasts through the sheer chemise with ease…. Practically as naked as you had been. And the man you’d who held your corset and your affection in his hands was staring at the same image with a blank expression on his face.

“This is absolutely humiliating,” you groan, inhaling as he pulls the strings of your corset. Your breasts rise above, forming a perfect, heaving cleavage that remains there, perfectly shaped, as your torso is pulled back…. But only ever so slightly. This was new…. comfortable, and…. just as shapely and alluring. A miracle.

“….It fits well and isn’t as tight as when the girls do it… you have practice, I assume, tying women’s corsets?” you say, taking in your reflection and silently wondering if the man behind you stole another glimpse before he swiftly tied the knot at your back - or if you’d compared to the beauties he must’ve courted in Paris.

Tutting, he ignores the question. His fingers remain at your back, playing with the strings he’d just tied together before tracing your corset's hem. You don't push his hands away when he continues to trace the boning to where it lies below your breast, until his long, elegant fingers ghost your stomach and he pulls his hand away.

It’s only when he steps backward that you exhale comfortably, highly unusual in such a corset, and in the reflection, you see Taehyung grab the dress you were due to wear from its hook behind the partition that enclosed you. He hands it to you without a word from where he stood at your back and with his help, you quickly step into the silky dress, and he ties it up just the same.

The color of the dress allowed your skin to shine as brightly as the rhinestones that adorned it, laid perfectly across your breasts and capsleeves…. Admiring them so, you remember the accompanying jewelry you’d prepared for the evening, a dainty set of earrings, which you put on in a millisecond, and its matching necklace.

“Allow me,” Taehyung says in a hush from behind you, tracing down your arm until he reaches the necklace in the palm of your hand. He brushes your hair to the side, the gentle graze of his fingertips sending chills down your spine as he works away at the lock.

“There”, he says, close enough for you to feel the breath of the word at your nape.

Thankful his gaze was fixated there, chilling as it may be, you quickly attempt to hide your heavy breathing and the rise and fall of your chest by working away at your hair, braiding and pinning it in minutes until you looked like every other 'hopeful' bachelorette.

With a dazzling look and the event kicking off the society’s courting season… you were sure to catch the wild eyes of plenty of eligible bachelors, much to your chagrin. You were at an appropriate age to be wed, let alone courted…. but it was clear that you could never feel about a man what you felt for Taehyung. Every other dead-end meeting your mother had set up in the time he’d been away proved that fact and only frustrated her further, especially when you’d turned down both of Taehyung’s now-married cousins, the highly educated and well-off brothers Namjoon and Seokjin. ‘Artistic boys get you nowhere,’ she’d said, trying to secure your future despite having a soft spot for Taehyung herself.

Now, in the mirror, you could see. Lust. Love. Trust. Humiliation. Your own sinful desire reflected back at you, along with Taehyung's striking side profile. Disregarding the mirror altogether, he had his head turned towards you, surely close enough to smell the rosy scent on your skin, on which you'd continuously felt his warm breathing.

“You look ravishing,” he finally mutters. “You looked beautiful even then.”

“Even then?”

“Before France…” he whispers, toying with the silky fabric at your shoulders. “And tonight....before this…. Especially before this.”

You finally break your own gaze, turning to face him and allowing your nose to brush against his, noting his floral scent… daisies specifically… the kind you’d always play with…. With a hint of some French cologne… The person you always knew, and the man he came to be…

“Any man would be lucky to dance with you.”

“It is not any man that I would wait for. It is not any man that I want…” you whisper, taking Taehyung’s hand and placing it on your waist. But his hand moves, quick to wrap around you and pull your body right against his.

“And what is it that you want so badly?”

Taehyung’s head tilts as his gaze fixates on a spot on your neck, biting at his lower lip and ready to do the same to your exposed skin. His lips meet your neck….

And a loud knock is heard on your door.

“_____, mother is waiting!” you hear through the door. “We’re all waiting. What’s taking you so long? Should I help with the corset?”

Oh… Right.

The two of you exhale against each other, Taehyung’s breath warmer than it had been…. even nicer. But he pulls away, ever so slightly.

“No! No, did that myself. A minute more,” you say, loud enough for your little sister to hear through the door.

“You did your own corset? Strange. Well, do you have any idea where Tae is? None of us can find him after mother sent him up here, and I want to show him how cutely I'd dressed up the teddy bear he got me!” your sister continues. “Mr. Kim Namjoon came looking for him too. Did he run off to the event ahead of us?”

“I don’t know,” you say, avoiding Taehyung’s gaze. “Now run off. I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

“I should go,” you say quietly, when you’d heard your sister’s footsteps fade. “I’ll see you there?”

Taehyung nods as he unwraps his arm from around your body, licking the lips you'd almost met.

You hear your name being called lowly from behind you just as you open your bedroom door. Turning only your head, you resist the urge to slam the door shut and kiss away the sudden anguish on Taehyung’s face.

“Save me a dance.”

“Two,” you reply, and he chuckles, walking towards you and taking your hand in his.

"I won't delay you further, my daisy. Tonight, I ask you for a dance, but soon... I hope you'll allow me to ask for this as well." Taehyung brings your hand up to his face, kissing your knuckles with his eyes closed, fluttering them open, and looking at you through his lashes with his lips still there. He doesn't wait for a reply. “Go.”

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artzychic27 · 9 months

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Hi! I read your AU of Marc being Marinette's cousin and I have to say that I LOVE it! If you have read any of my stuff, I make it very clear how much I do not like Marinette. I have always preferred the male characters while only liking a few female characters, such as Juleka and Kagami. I would definitely love to hear more about this AU, even though I greatly dislike that Lila is actually good in the AU. But, I weirdly hate Marinette more than I do Lila.

I think it would be fun to think about some of your stories through the eyes of this AU. Like, how different stories like Scarlet Warlock, Sorrow, and Brotherhood of Secrets would be in this AU.

My favorite thing about this AU is actually that Adrien is shipped with Luka. Those two are my FAVORITE Miraculous ship!

Let’s see…

Scarlet Warlock

The week of Halloween, Mme. Bustier tells the story of Nicholas Kress and how he cursed his small town with a famine that lasted years after he was burned at the stake

Just to be awful after Nathaniel decided to sever ties with her, Marinette spreads the rumor that Nathaniel is the reincarnation of Nicholas

And she makes it out like she’s only doing it for the good of her fellow students since Nathaniel’s been straying by spending time with Marc and Lila lately, and he bared a striking resemblance to Nicholas

Plus, with the Miraculous being around, who knows? Witches and warlocks could exist (I know they do, but here, they think witches and warlocks are just folklore and shit. If any of my followers are witches or warlocks, y’all are valid 🩷)

Her followers believe her and keep the rumor going, turning Nathaniel into even more of an outcast

All throughout the week, he gets doused with holy water, has his home egged, he sees at least one priest following him home from school, and ‘Burn the Witch’ is written on his locker in permanent marker

Eventually, Halloween rolls around, and things don’t get any better. During study hall, a few students corner him in the locker room and try to force him to admit that he’s a warlock on video until an Akuma infects part of his costume and he’s turned into Scarlet Warlock

His first spell causes all sorts of spiders to invade the school and crawl all over everyone

He makes his flashy entrance and creates all sorts of misfortune for the students

While the school is delved into chaos, he goes searching for Marinette, knowing she had something to do with this. Instead, he runs into Marc, who pleads with him to not hurt Marinette because she’ll only get more ammo and hurt him later

So, he turns Marc into a vampire to help him track down Marinette so that they can burn her at the stake

Lila: *Flicks a spider off of her shoulder* Should we help?

Félix: Marinette or Nathaniel?

Lila: … Uh… Nath first, Marinette later.

Félix: Sounds good.

Scarlet Warlock soon faces off against Ladybug and doesn’t hold back becuase he’s not exactly fond of her either. Something about her just reminds him of Marinette

Meanwhile, Marc bit a few of his classmates to have them assist Scarlet Warlock and make things harder for the heroes. When Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, she’s quick to dismiss it and goes to recharge while Chat Noir keeps the Lucky Charm on hand

Unfortunately (Not really), Marinette gets found and taken to the pyre where she’ll await execution

With help from Félix, Chat Noir heads to the oldest library in the city, where he comes across an old journal detailing Nicholas Kress’ life with his lover Miles Arcel up until his tragic death. And in a secret compartment, is a bat-shaped brooch…

… Well, like hell he’s letting Ladybug get his hands on it

Just as Scarlet Warlock is about to burn Marinette, Bat Noir swoops in and destroys the pyre just by calling for it to be rendered to ashes

Marinette runs off without so much as a ‘Thank you,’ and Ladybug arrives just demanding the his second Miraculous since Bat Noir will use it “recklessly”

Instead, Bat Noir calls for Scarlet Warlock’s wand to turn to dust and release the Akuma just to shut her up. Miraculous Ladybug, all is well, and Ladybug goes to reprimand Nathaniel for trying to hurt such a “sweet girl”

Lila: “Sweet” my butt! Marinette spread a rumor that Nathaniel was the reincarnation of Nicholas Kress and was going to wipe us all out unless he was stopped!

And all is well

Sorrow

Adrien’s having a particularly shitty month, and it only gets worse when Gabriel hires Marinette as an intern for the photo shoots

At first, Adrien is happy to have a friend around, but comes to realize that he hates every second of it. Marinette is constantly touching him when mending his clothes, taking pictures of him when she thinks he’s not looking, and badmouthing a few students

His classmates dismiss this as Marinette being friendly and looking out for him, but Marc, Nathaniel, Lila, Chloé, and Félix hear him out

And when he’s not around them, he vents his frustrations to Luka and visits him with the minimal breaks he has

On top of Marinette’s behavior, Gabriel has been pushing him to get up at unholy hours when he should be sleeping to do photo shoots and has been keeping him on a very strict diet. Should Adrien stray, he’s going to pull him out of school

They sneak him some food and hide him from the rest of the class so he can get some sleep during breaks, but, as if Gabriel somehow has hidden cameras in the school, he forbids Adrien from spending time with them and keeps him from seeing Luka

It doesn’t take long for Félix to discover Marinette blabbed to Gabriel, so in retaliation, he says a few unsavory words to her

Marinette starts crying as gaslighting Adrien into defending her with the unspoken threat of getting his father involved, but he doesn’t say anything and just leaves

While her classmates are tearing into Félix, she texts Gabriel and lets him know what happened

Gabriel calls and scolds Adrien while he’s crying in the locker room, and threatens to pull him out of school unless he gets along with Marinette, causing Adrien to snap and demand to know why he wants them to get along

So, Gabriel reveals his plan to have them date and be the faces of the company: A famous model and his designer turned girlfriend

Of course, this makes him sick and he wants nothing to do with Marinette, but there’s still the threat of being pulled out of school and having no one but Marinette to hang out with

Cue HawkAss practically forcing an Akuma on him

Félix: And another thing, you bloody witch! When a man says ‘no!’ He means, ‘Get your witch hands off of me!’ Also- What the hell is that?! *Points to Sorrow*

Sorrow uses his power to force everyone at school to feel his anguish and see what he was going through at home, during shoots, and at school

He has those under his control kidnap Marinette before she can transform while he goes to use his powers on the rest of Paris

Marc, Nathaniel, Chloé, Félix, and Lila, who managed to avoid Sorrow’s power and decide to wait things out at the hotel until they’re stopped by black and red sprites

Plagg and Tikki managed to slip the Miraculous off of Adrien and Marinette before they were Akumatized and kidnapped respectively

Plagg: So? Which two of you will take on this possibly dangerous mission and save your friend?

Marc/Nathaniel/Chloé/Félix/Lila: …

Lila: Not it!

Chloé/Félix: Not it!

Marc/Nathaniel: Not-!

Marc: Damn it!

Lila: Twas fate.

Marc and Nathaniel turn into Plague and Coccinelle

Meanwhile, at the very top of the Eiffel Tower, Sorrow REALLY lets Marinette have it and makes sure everyone knows what she and Gabriel did, causing her classmates to cry harder than everyone else when they realize they’ve just been encouraging her behavior

When Gabriel is brought in, tied up, Sorrow lets him know how much he hates him before throwing both him and Marinette over the railing…

…

… Only for them to be caught by Plague and Coccinelle, much to Marinette’s anger

When everything’s fine and well, and Adrien’s de-akumatized, the moment Gabriel gets arrested, the students demand for Marinette to get arrested, too

Even when she screams that she’s Ladybug, no one cares, and she’s sent away while Nathalie sneakily steals the Butterfly Miraculous

And that’s the end of that… Oh, and Adrien dates Luka and lives with Nathalie

Brotherhood of Secrets

For a while now, the other four Akuma Class boys have been wary of Marinette. Her behavior lately is kind of scaring them, especially the Adrinette plans

When they go to hear Nathaniel’s side of things after realizing they’ve only be listening to Marinette for so long, they hear what they expect- “Marinette’s blackmailing all of you,” “Marinette has been making Marc’s life hell since she was born,” “Marinette framed Marc for all sorts of things and is still doing it,” “Marinette’s stalking Adrien, stealing his belongings, and you’re all enabling her.”

At first, they don’t believe him, but then Nathaniel reveals an audio recording of Marinette talking to Marc and revealing several of her crimes, including her declaration of how Adrien will belong to her all thanks to her idiot classmates

This pisses them off enough to get Akumatized, and unfortunately for Nathaniel, he’s caught in the Akumatization, turning them into the Brotherhood of Retribution

They track down Marinette and try to force her to confess to what she’s done, but she’s denying everything and continues running

Chloé: *Recording Marinette getting flung around by Dark Cupid* This is fun. This is a good time.

Félix: It really is, isn’t it?

Marc: *Sips his coffee* … Should we warn Adrien they’re torturing Marinette in his honor?

Lila: Shh… Later…

Chat Noir arrives while they’re playing volleyball with her as the ball and tries to talk them down even after they explain what Marinette has done. Loudly.

Chat Noir brings Marinette to safety, gets no gratitude in return, and gets back to fighting

After separating Bubbler from the group and convincing him to break from Shadow Moth’s control, Chat Noir goes to get the turtle miraculous and hands it to Nino

One battle later, and everything’s normal again. Once she’s done recharging, Marinette is about to to transform so she can have the boys apologize, but is stopped by a police officer who promptly arrests her and takes her in for questioning

But before she’s forced into the cop car, she transforms into Ladybug, believing no one would want their beloved heroine arrested… But, she’s not exactly popular with most of the akuma victims, so Chat Noir takes her Miraculous while she’s in shock

He passes the earrings along to Marc so he can undo his cousin’s damage, and all is well

And that’s all I got

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #favoritism au #Adrien x Luka #answered ask #ask me stuff

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spnfanficpond · 2 months

Text

New Member Spotlight - March 2024

The Pond is always growing and we want to make our new members feel welcome! Here’s a list of recent additions to our fishy family, along with a little info about them!

Guppies, Jellies, and Mutuals, oh, my!

@samanddean76 -

Other SM names? - Same name on AO3 and Discord

OTP? - Wincest and/or J2.

Looking for in the Pond? - To be around other open-minded and creative people so that I can see how far I can be inspired to go with this writing thing.

Pairings you read? - All of it. I love Wincest, Wincestiel, Sabriel, Destiel, Jammy, and J2.

Genres you read? - Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Smut, True Mates, Soul Mates, Unrequited Love, and A/B/O is my favorite way to combine all of the above.

Favorite writer(s)? - nyxocity. She started on LiveJournal with the first episodes to air and transfered a lot to Ao3. Her work in both SPN and SPN RPF is some of the best I've ever read.

What do you like to write? - A/B/O, AU's, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, True Mates, Soul Mates, Revenge, and All The Feels

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - Joyous Memories Amongst The Sorrow

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - A full on, hard-core revenge story where nothing is softened, the focus doesn't shift away, and there is no doubt as to what was done. Haven't tried it yet as I'm not sure I'm ready to embrace the darkness required to write it. Also, I don't want to scare off my readers. How you can help? Encourage me to finally tackle that next seemingly impossible challenge.

@kayleighwinchester -

Other SM names? - KayleighWinchester (AO3)

OTP? - Awful as it sounds, Dean and my OC! Beyond that, absolutely Destiel.

Other fandoms? - I'm pretty active in the band Ghost's TikTok fandom! I used to be *huge* into Harry Potter, but that's definitely faded in the last few years. As it stands, Supernatural has definitely become the main obsession.

Looking for in the Pond? - I'm mostly here for the community! My fanfic writing has mostly been just for me and shared with a few close friends in the last few years - publishing it anywhere, especially in the really rough state it's in at present, is super daunting! I'm always looking for more people to bounce ideas off of, chat with, and generally obsess over the show with, as well as finding new stuff to read!

Pairings you read? - I'm especially fond of reader inserts, and they were my first big step into fanfic! When it comes to ships, I tend to stick specifically to Destiel, since it's my OTP, but I'm always willing to branch out!

Genres you read? - I love angst! Writing was, for a long time, my free version of therapy, so reading and writing angst was always a huge thing for me. I also love smut and fluff. ...Essentially, everything. Depends on the mood!

Favorite writer(s)? - I always have to boost TinkerbellBleu on Ao3, even though she isn't active anymore. She wrote an amazing DeanxOC fic, essentially turning episodes 1, 2, and part of 3 into full-length novels. I adore her writing and hope she comes back soon!

What do you like to write? - Most are CharacterxOC, and I have absolutely no self-control, so they are almost always ridiculously long. As it stands, I've been incapable of not just writing a fic that is supposed to span the entire show, because there's just *so many* good moments, good scenes, good storylines, etc. There's never one specific 'theme'; I write everything! I do enjoy writing angst, though.

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - Smut! I've made an *attempt*, but never one that I actually kept. Generally, it comes down to a lack of confidence; I'd love some critiques if I ever get around to it!

@whiskeyjuniper -

Other SM names? - Whiskeyjuniper (AO3)

OTP? - DeanCas, Midam, crackship DeanChuck

Looking for in the Pond? - Sprint buddies!

Pairings you read? - DeanCas, Midam, crackship DeanChuck

Genres you read? - Horror

What do you like to write? - Horror, Weird

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - a happy place to dream about

@bloodydeanwinchester -

Other SM names? - Same name on Discord, alovelyhorror (AO3)

OTP? - Destiel

Looking for in the Pond? - Looking for a place to talk to other writers and participate in sprints.

Pairings you read? - Almost exclusively Destiel

Genres you read? - Angst with a happy ending is my favorite but I also love some good horror. my favorite trope is probably time travel.

Favorite writer(s)? - sobsicles and komodobits on ao3

What do you like to write? - mostly into writing longer destiel canon/canon divergent fics (although i do have an idea or two for aus)

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - When the Night Is Over

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - The thing I'm most focused on wanting to do now is to finish the longer fic that I’m currently working on. I'm struggling with keeping up motivation now that I'm right in the middle of the fic!

@notanotherthembo -

Other SM names? - Same name on Discord

OTP? - Dean/Cassie

Other fandoms? - TWD, TOWL

Looking for in the Pond? - Beta readers, homies, amazing writers to talk shop with

Pairings you read? - Sam/Femme!Reader, DeanCassie, Sam/Dean/Femme!Reader, Wincest

Genres you read? - Smut, Rivals or Enemies to Lovers,

Favorite writer(s)? - @uncouth-the-fifth is the GOAT

What do you like to write? - Crossovers, specifically ones that feature Black femme characters as the romantic lead

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - Clap Your Hands If You Believe

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - Reader inserts! I'm working on one right now that I need a beta reader for. I'm also considering finishing up/rewriting an old Spn/True Blood crossover series that I haven't touched in years.

@bigmouthlass -

Other SM names? - darali_starscream (AO3) & Darali (Discord)

OTP? - I write Dean/You, and Dean/Donna should've lived happily ever after.

Looking for in the Pond? - Get a better handle on fandom stuff, meet some other like-minded obsessives.

Pairings you read? - Dean/anyone. He fascinates me.

Genres you read? - Smut to start, anything interesting and well-written.

Favorite writer(s)? - @thoughtslikeaminefield, @sam-is-my-safe-word , @talltalesandbedtimestories, Edge_of_Clairvoyance (AO3), and @rizlowwritessortof

What do you like to write? - They start as smut, and insist on growing plots.

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - Stairwell Drums

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - I'm trying to get comfortable writing Sam; he's harder for me to feel at ease with. Also slash generally, it doesn't come naturally to me.

That's all for this month, folks! (If we're missing anyone, let us know and we'll add them to next month's list!) Make sure to say hi to the newbies and make them feel welcome! Thanks to all from @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @spencereliotwinchester and @heavenssexiestangel!

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onewmin · 1 year

Text

the perfume on the shelf. pt. 1 | bangchan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!reader

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: A slight au, profanity, angst, slight smut, mentions of emotional abuse, unhealthy relationships, typos, maybe punctuation errors, a lot of references to Taylor Swift and Olivia Rodrigo’s songs, but mostly blondie’s music

Author’s note: very self-inserted in parts with parents, toxic exes and therapy lol hope you enjoy!

Part 2

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Tangled in silk sheets, sinking into the colour red surrounding you, you watched him stand up and get dressed, then turning left to take his phone from the nightstand. Closing your eyes quickly, you felt a kiss on your temple.

“Goodnight, baby”.

A sweet whisper sent shivers down your spine, but you kept your sleeping façade present: he couldn’t find out you weren’t asleep. Otherwise, it’ll be harder. Otherwise, you’ll make him stay for another hour, entangled, glistening, lost in pleasure. It’s better if he leaves, it’s always better.

You listen attentively to him collecting his things — car keys, his beanie, bag — and shutting the door on the way out. You hear his keys turn in the door, and regret the moment you gave him a spare one. And as he left, your hands were at your eyes, covering the tears. There was no point in muffling your cries other than for them not to turn into full howls. You were so tired, exhausted of being just a rebound to Chan. Because that’s what you were — a shadow of someone he loved.

You, on the other hand? He didn’t love you. As a friend, yeah, but as a woman? His woman? Never. Never in a million years. Or so you thought.

Sitting on the bed, you wiped the tears from your cheeks, and let out a breath. No, you couldn’t do it anymore. The further this situation progressed, the less you recognized yourself. Chan wasn’t a bad guy, no. It’s just… Despite your big age, despite the built up persona of a mature adult, in the end, you were a naive, broken girl, who just wanted to be loved. Even if this love was collected by you from crumbs of attention Chan was giving you as a potential partner.

Your cat jumped on the bed, coming closer to you; immediately purring after you petted her, and lied down next to your legs. The only living being that loved you unconditionally and the one you loved more than anything. Although you did joke to Chan she grew more fond of him than of you, and he laughed, taking her into his arms and scratching behind her ears. She did love him, too. And he loved her. At least, he loved one part of you — your cat.

Standing up from the bed, followed by a quiet “meow”, you came up to the window. The moon lit an empty street, where Chan’s car was parked just minutes ago. You loved watching him pull up, with a takeaway in his hands and eyes glued to your window. Waving at each other, grinning — he was to see his closest friend, and you…

What about you?

Shit, you wished there was never anything between the two of you. No friendship, no sex, nothing.

You remembered the first time your friendship took a dangerous turn, when his plushy lips landed on yours in a ferocious, drunken kiss. You both were wasted, drinking to ease your sorrows and pain. Both being broken up with your partners at approximately the same time, Chan and you decided to talk, while sharing a bottle of wine. A bottle turned into two, and then three, and you both were crying, cursing your exes, and you found yourself in his lap, fingers tugging on his hair. And his hands on your waist, controlling the way you grinded against him. You remembered sweet nothings whispered into your skin, his gentle, soft palm on your cheek while he was pounding into you. And the look in his eyes, so intense, as if he was starring right into your soul.

Maybe that was the moment when you fell in love with him. Or maybe you convinced yourself you loved him just so you wouldn’t be alone. You really didn’t know. Your therapist said you’d gotten into yet another unhealthy situation, and you believed her, you did. However… Chan wasn’t like your ex. He wasn’t emotionally abusing you, wasn’t turning every happy moment of your life into a nightmare because he was envious. Chan wasn’t a narcissist — a type of guys you tended to fall for in the past. You decided to put a stop to toxicity, and Chan, you thought, sex with him would be an amazing distraction. Oh boy, were you wrong.

“You tell this story, and yet, the guy you’ve been talking about is emotionally, romantically unavailable, right? Isn’t it the same type you’ve been trying to avoid?”

Yeah, your therapist was not in the wrong here. Narcissistic guys, who took everything from you — your emotions, happiness and will to love — unfortunately, were your type. The ones you’d been collecting, falling for, because you didn’t know any better. Repeating the scariest scenario — your mother’s. You were running away from the image of a man, who had never said anything nice to your mom and you, the man, who was selfish and full of shit, the man, who was emotionally abusive and never apologized for his harsh words and actions. The image of your father, and the relationship between two adults you got dragged in against your will. Being involved into it since your early teenagehood, you didn’t know the image of a healthy family, and what’s more important, you had no idea what healthy relationship looked like. One thing to see it in movies and saying,

“Hey, that’s so easy!”

And another one to fulfill it in real life. Your father never complimented your mom, never told her he loved her — the usual, embarrassing things healthy couples do in front of their kids. He was emotionally unavailable, drained, you used to say. Casually cruel for the sake of being honest, the man himself stated. And yet, your mother never left him, even after complaining to you, how tired she was of the rows he was picking.

“Get a divorce”.

“And stay alone when I’m old? Who needs that?”

You stopped giving advice. She would never listen and you’d never help her. She was inserted in this scenario by herself and was never willing to leave it.

And now you were following into your mother’s footsteps, running to the guy type you despised. But daughters tend to repeat their mothers’ mistakes, don’t they?

Although Chan wasn’t like that. He was your friend first (the only guy friend you’ve had in years), and the way he treated you just as a friend… Needless to say, not a guy your mother would even consider looking at herself, when she was younger. But whenever you spoke of him?

“I think he’s in love with you, honey”.

What did she know about love? Didn’t she marry a guy after a couple of months just to have a baby?

So, you never took your mother’s words about Chan seriously. The relationship with your parents was messy, even after years of therapy. You never felt at ease with them, not when talking about your studies, not when having a family dinner. Your mother had a picture of a “stable, happy family” in her head, and that picture was bright and shiny in her eyes. However, she never considered that picture being a façade for a real monstrous family portrait, hidden in the attic. Very Dorian Gray of her, you used to think.

And then there was Chan. Maybe the first man you didn’t consider to be an asshole. He took you to the movies, walks, everywhere — and never demanded anything in return. Chan was one of the reasons your toxic ex broke up with you. Thanks god for Chan.

And when you thought you’d found a friend for years, you two had to have drunken sex. You two had to ruin everything by having hangover sex in the morning. You both had to destroy your friendship by agreeing to be “friends with benefits”. And you had to cut your life into pieces by falling in love with him.

“You feel so good, baby”, he moaned into your skin, “the best fuckin’ feeling in the world”.

You whimpered, shivering under his touch, and seeing nothing but the sky and stars instead of the white ceiling. You were drunk on him, his scent being your oxygen. And when he kissed you, his lips slowly devouring yours, you could swear, you were brought into Heaven.

How could have you given him so much power over you? How could you let yourself fall in love with someone so normal? So normal, that he didn’t fall in love with everyone who gave him the slightest bit of affection?

You slowly strolled to the kitchen, as the sleep washed away the moment you started thinking too much. You managed to get rid of sleepless, teary nights when your ex called it quits, but recently falling asleep seemed harder than it used to be. All because of Chan.

“Maybe I’m some sort of masochist”, you told your therapist once, “as I keep doing back to the same scenario”.

“It is completely the same this time?”

“Not really. Like, yeah, he’s not romantically available, cause he still loves his ex-girlfriend, but he’s different from other guys”.

“Did he tell you he was still in love with his ex?”, you didn’t answer her question. “Or is it you, who’s projecting her fears and anxiety onto a potential partner?”

That shit? Was deep. True. You were indeed projecting. But hey, how could anyone blame you, when relationship rollercoasters were the only thing you’d known?

A great way to escape responsibility for your actions, right?

Sipping tea from the cup, you wondered what he was doing now. Did he go home? Or did he, in (your brain’s twisted) reality, texted his ex and drove to her house, to confess his undying love for her? And then to make love to her just like he did to you, several hours ago? And, if he was so in love with her, wasn’t the thing you two had a kind of an illicit affair? A way of cheating on her?

“Jeez, just shut the fuck up”, you murmured, plopping onto the couch and turning on the TV.

“Maybe I am projecting, but, deep inside, I know the truth. He still loves her, and I’m just a rebound”.

“Elaborate, please. Even though you sound very confident, I’d love to hear your reasoning”.

Nothing coherent came from you that time. Probably because you had nothing to say, just “I trust my gut” — girl, what the actual fuck? Definitely an answer you therapist expected from you; she knew you too well, found out the easy way when you resisted therapy and her implications.

“The right answer is also somewhere in your gut. You just choose to block these thoughts, because if you indulge into them, you’ll have to actually leave the set scenario. But, as we’ve discussed it, isn’t it something you want to do?”.

My god, lady. Couldn’t she just be your inner voice instead of the annoying conspiracy theorist living in your head for free?

TV was boring. You turned to your laptop on the coffee table; to look for another way to distract yourself.

You didn’t plan to watch one of Chan’s latest interviews. You really didn’t. It just happened.

“And what’s your latest album about?”

“A love that slipped away. The one that got away, I’d put it like that”. Any more proof he still loved that girl, huh, Ms. Therapist-Know-It-All?

You slammed your laptop’s lid. “Shit, shit, shit”, you whined right after, checking if the screen wasn’t damaged. Making decisions based on emotions was your thing, truly, but the laptop has been fixed too many times already for you not to treat it gentler that your feelings.

Maybe, you thought, turning on the TV again and lying down on the couch, maybe he’s just too nice to say anything. To break this thing off. “Maybe he pities me, that’s why. He knows what kind of guys I dated, maybe that’s why he continues to keep this going?”

“Projecting again”.

You were too tired to fight with your therapist’s voice. Yeah, you were. But didn’t he himself said, that he had written music about her? And, having heard his songs, you only now realized how much he missed her. If you hadn’t been so pathetic in your desire to be loved by someone, you wouldn’t have fallen for him a month after you two started this shit.

“Why am I the only pathetic one? Isn’t he like that too?”

Shit, he is. A broken-hearted boy, looking for love he had lost in the best friend, who was stupid enough to think he would actually reciprocate her feelings. He made you suffer so much, catching you crying twice, while being in his bed — and never, ever, questioning himself? Never doubting his decision to keep your relationship living?

“Maybe he’s just fucking stupid, that’s all”, you muttered, starring into the screen, a “Friends” episode you’d seen million times before running on. Probably now, after his literal confession on the Internet, his ex would come back to him. And you’d be free from this cage, maybe your wings would grow out once again. Maybe the grass would be greener, and the sun would shine brighter.

But didn’t that mean he’s be the one to break up with you, leaving you with a broken heart because of him, once again? He was never truly yours to lose, so why not to be the first one to end it? You’d dodge a bullet, for sure.

Unlocking your phone, reluctantly looking at the text you’d typed. Wasn’t it better to talk in person? Or to call, at the very least?

“When trying to be nice to everyone else, try to remember: would they be as good and understanding, as you’re to them?”

Chan would be, you thought. He’d sit you on the couch, have an honest conversation, hold you if you cried, and accept every curse thrown at him. He’d understand.

No, wait, back to the possible final frame. Would he be actually understanding towards a girl who fell in love with her friend, who never promised her anything? Or would he just pity her? You didn’t need his pity, you didn’t want his fucking compassion. He would never understand the way you were feeling, the way you…

Fuck him. Fuck him, and his sorrowful gaze, and his hoarse morning voice; fuck him, and his soft hands, and his stupid laugh; fuck him, and him fastening your shirts, and him teaching you how to dance. Fuck him.

One click. The message had been sent. Hopefully, he’d read it and be relieved you had decided to call it quits first. You felt relieved, for sure. Like a weight off your shoulders.

If it was such a relief, why were sobbing into the cushion, hugging your cat? Why did it hurt so bad?

#bang chan #bangchan #bang chan x female reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang chan imagine #bangchan imagines #bangchan imagine #stray kids imagines

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