#lived in the same small town their entire life and he was friends with my moms sister for most of high school | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heesdreamer · 3 months

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PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ Four years after he disappeared from your life your childhood friend and love returns back to town completely changed.

WARNINGS ➩ Heeseung is an addict and not a super amazing person, broken people with bad communication skills, rough smut, like quick hate sex basically. Super angst but I hope it’s still a good read lol… based in the late 90s early 2000s

WC ➩ 11k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ A bit nervous to be posting here again after five months since I’m pretty rusty but hopefully you’ll take it easy on me lol. No part two for this and it’s an open ending (my favorite) so infer what you’d like but feel free to ask me anything about the story or the characters! Hope it’s okay and I missed you guys. NOT PROOFREAD

Summer was pretty much the constant season where you grew up outside of the few weeks the sun disappeared and the rain turned the beaches grey.

You appreciated the break every year considering it just made the heat coming back feel ten times better, that first day being able to run into the ocean again always feeling like your towns personal version of new year.

Let the salt water wash away your sins and the tears that had long dried on your sun kissed cheeks.

Your town had been spared from tourist for most of your childhood even though it’s definitely gained traction during more recent years if the alarming amount of people outside the local diners said anything.

The locals didn’t mind as long as they cleaned up their empty bottles of sunscreen from the public beaches and didn’t interfere with the abundance of native wild life.

You definitely didn’t mind considering you were on your sixth year working at the smoothie shop just a block away from the most popular beach and you enjoyed suckering large families out of large tips by giving them basic fun facts about the area they could use for their vacation.

It was the least you could do as somebody who lived in a permanent one.

This years version of those rainy few weeks came in the suddenly deliverance of news you’d never even imagined hearing let alone prepared yourself to deal with.

“Hey.” Jake sounded out of breath as he crashed through the flimsy door of the smoothie shop, hair wet from either just leaving the beach where he worked as a lifeguard or from the slight drizzle that had started to pick up.

“Hey, don’t get my floor wet. Assuming you’re off this week?” You were folding cleaning rags in preparation for closing up the shop for the next few days due to the news channel continuously warning the locals of a storm coming.

Jake rolled his eyes at your light scolding but you noticed that he did avoid sitting on the stools or touching anything he could get his wetness on.

“Oh so it’s your floor now?” He was cocking an eyebrow up as he looked at you and now it was your turn to roll your eyes, a light smile on your face at the teasing.

You’d know Jake the same amount of time you had known pretty much anybody living in the town which was basically the entire sum of your life. All the kids went to the same small school district and everyone’s parents knew each other to some capacity so there’d never been a time you didn’t know him and your other friends.

“So…” Your extensive knowledge of him made it even more obvious that he was about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear, his tone changing to the same one he used whenever he had to let the beach goers know the waters weren’t safe. “He’s back in town.”

The mood in the small shop changed immediately and you tensed up from where you were still folding the rags, placing the one you were working on back down onto the counter and squeezing it with your hand.

You noticed the rain picking up outside and it was almost ironic how it seemed to match your mood.

“Oh.” That was all you could manage to say and Jake dropped his shoulders in defeat at your dull reaction. “No Jakey thanks for telling me that’s.. it’s nice to have a heads up.”

Neither one of you spoke for a few seconds and you let the sound of the wind whipping around the thin metal panels of the roof distract you just enough to stop you from immediately bombarding him with questions. You didn’t need him to know how much you cared even though you knew he already did.

“Did- did you see him?”

“Saw his mom at the market on my lunch break.” He was watching you so intensely that it was starting to annoy you. He looked like he was waiting for you to explode and you were considering giving him what he wanted just so he’d stop staring like that. “They’re like.. well he’s back in the old house so I’m assuming that means… yeah.”

He was awkward in his delivery but you understood exactly what he meant, your old friend wasn’t just back in town for a vacation or a trip down memory lane but instead he was back for at least the near future.

Your head hung low as you tried your best to not react outwardly but the humorless scoff left your mouth before you could stop it and you heard Jake sigh near the door.

Luck was at least in your favor considering the news was right and the rain didn’t stop for another four days meaning you and the boys didn’t have work and there was no chance of you running into the exact person you wanted to avoid.

You spent your days at Sunghoon’s house which was on the other side of town from where you and the rest of your friends lived.

Sunghoon had been the last person to join your small group and he almost hadn’t been accepted considering he didn’t go to the same school and actually didn’t live there at all. His father was beyond wealthy and owned a nice property up on the hill, a place you and your friends used to sit on the beach and stare at while daydreaming about living there.

He came down every winter from the city so him and his dad could escape the cold and icy roads and then he’d leave again once the temperature picked up.

Naturally this made him a bit of an outcast compared to the rest of you who grew up together and spent nearly every single day hanging out and playing on the beaches but you liked him nonetheless.

He wasn’t as spoiled as you figured he probably could have been and if anything he was actually pretty sheepish whenever someone mentioned how much money he constantly had at his disposal.

You’d all tease him until he bought you snacks and ice cream in bulk just to get you off his back, a silent peace offering.

An even more silent ‘I’m sorry you’re poor and I’m not’.

Once you all got older and his dad got too tired to continue the travel back and forth just to avoid some snow, Sunghoon would come by himself just to see you all and you imagined it was any day now before he decided to stay for good.

The image from their hillside property was breathtaking even through the storm, floor to ceiling windows that you’d perch yourself on while the others slept. It had a perfect view of the biggest beach and the mountains behind it and despite growing up with it as your backdrop, you never got used to it.

“Can’t sleep?” Riki’s voice was echoing through the nearly empty living room, a feat of Sunghoon’s dad practically moving out.

You turned your head to see him shuffling towards you in his pajamas with an open bottle of wine in his hands. He was taking a swig before nudging your leg with his hand so you would move it and he could sit down beside you with a groan.

His back was against the other side of the windowsill and your legs were crossing over his in a mirror image but he looked just as exhausted as you figured you did and it was sort of comforting to know you weren’t the only one handling this bad.

“When do I ever sleep?” Your hand was sticking out as you spoke and he took one more sip of the wine before handing the bottle over to you.

Your face pulled into a grimace at the sour taste and he laughed softly at the reaction before leaning forward to snatch it back and keep it away from you. You looked back out the window but you could feel him staring at you now and you sighed.

Riki had been around just as long as Jake had but he was also your neighbor which added another layer of familiarity. There was no hiding your family issues with him like you attempted with the others because he was one window away and often the person you ran to when things got too hard.

“Saw him in town you know, before we headed up here.” He was starting off in a whisper like he was testing the waters and you were getting sick of people treating you like a loose canon when it came to this. “He looks different.”

“Obviously. He was a kid last time we saw him and he’s what, 20 now?” You phrased it like you weren’t too sure but both of you were aware that you knew his exact age. You’d never forgotten his birthday and your mood soured every year on that day for the past four times it cycled past.

“21.” Riki clarified anyways and you appreciated that you both pretended you’d be able to make that mistake. “And I don’t just mean he grew up I mean he looks terrible.”

Your stomach turned uncomfortably as graphic images made their way into your mind and you squeezed your eyes tight at the thought of him and what he could possibly look like now.

“Why are you telling me this Riki?” You sounded hurt and lost and you felt his leg nudging yours again like he was either trying to comfort you or snap you out of the tense state you’d fallen into. You opened your eyes and stared at him and the way the moonlight highlighted the side of his face.

“I told him I’d meet him for lunch once the storm cleared up.” He said it slowly and that made it that much easier for you to hear the overwhelming guilt in his voice. “I’d like for you to be there. I’m asking you to be there.”

Your face fell flat but he didn’t stop looking at you as he dropped the bomb and you almost wanted to shy away from the intense gaze just waiting for you to show that you cared.

“You can’t ask me that.” It came out as a whisper and you hated how weak you sounded at just the idea of seeing him.

“But I am.”

—

Two days later the clouds were gone like they’d never been there and the unrelenting heat was building back up at full force. You all returned down from the hillside property with raging hangovers and a suffocating promise.

You tried to ignore your phone ringing on the wall because you knew who it was, or at least could guess out of three names but it was pointless considering Riki was right next door and the ringing soon turned to knocks at your window.

So you told yourself you agreed to the lunch because you were sick of being harassed about it and it was not because you needed to see him for yourself.

If anything this was your chance to prove you didn’t care about him and you just had never felt that level of loss before. It wouldn’t kill you to hear his voice and listen to the way it’s changed over the lost time and you’d be able to get through the meal with a few awkward conversations before getting to go back to your regular life.

You were immediately proven wrong the second you pushed into the restaurant and you would have stopped in your tracks if it wasn’t for Riki’s guiding hand on your lower back.

He worked at this restaurant and it was directly on the shore of the beach so despite it being busy post storm he was easily maneuvering you through it towards the table.

You stayed back a few feet as the boy stood up and went to greet your other friends, a few awkward seconds passing like they didn’t know wether to shake hands or hug before Jake was moving forward and pulling the older boy into a tight embrace.

Sunghoon was doing the same and rubbing the back of his head comfortably before Riki gave him a familiar pat on the shoulder due to the fact they’d already gone through the first encounter nerves.

The three boys immediately climbed into the booth and started to flip through the menus to give you some privacy even though you all knew they’d eaten the same things here since they were kids and knew every dish like the back of their hand.

You still appreciated the gesture considering the second he looked at you your heart clenched painfully and you suddenly felt like you were 17 again.

“Hey y/n.” His voice was low as he spoke but you could still hear it enough to notice you barely recognized it. It had dropped a few octaves and it was painfully raspy.

“You look like shit Hee.” Your blunt words and the use of the familiar nickname made him scoff out a laugh and he nodded his head in agreement to your insult.

He truly did even though you were just trying to tease him and loosen the atmosphere. He was ten shades paler than the rest of you but you had a feeling it wasn’t due to him not being around the sun all the time anymore. He looked nearly sickly and your stomach turned the more you saw the signs of that being true.

His eyes looked tired and sad but what was the worst change was how skinny he was. He’d always been thin but now he was towering over you and still looking like a strong wave could take him out.

He sniffed uncomfortably because of your intense gaze and your eyes honed in on his prominent wrist bone and the way he flicked at his nostril.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the action and he immediately lowered his arm like he’d just been caught doing something, confirming your belief.

The silence was awkward but luckily one of Riki’s coworkers was approaching to get your drinks and you scooted past the tall boy so you could slide in the booth besides Sunghoon.

It was unusual for you to be nearly silent and not engaging in the conversation but you couldn’t really handle trying to fumble your way through acting like everything was normal like the others were.

You started to wonder if they really did think it was just a normal meal while catching up with a childhood friend.

It blew your mind to consider that maybe they didn’t see the way Heeseung was constantly bouncing his knee and picking apart his napkin or the fact he’d barely taken a bite of food the entire time. Did they not see his fidgeting eyes and the fact he looked sick every glance he took towards your direction.

The boys did their best to fill the silence without bringing up anything that would let Heeseung know how much he’d missed out on and soon enough everyone was having to go back to work.

You’d gotten the day off since the storm had drastically killed off the tourist that make up 90% of your daily customers and you could tell the boy across from you felt a bit lost when everyone stated their plans for the rest of the day.

“Did you maybe want to go to the beach with me?” You had no idea why you were inviting him but by the time you noticed the shocked look on your friends faces, it was too late and the offer was hanging heavily in the air.

He looked around like he wasn’t quite sure you were talking to him and his eyes were a little more alert when he finally turned back to face you.

“Uh yeah sure.”

Riki gave you a cautious look as you left and Sunghoon parted you with a swift kiss on the cheek and another firm hug for Heeseung. Jake was heading to the same place as you for his shift as a lifeguard so it made the walk down the street a little less awkward.

The roles reversed from lunch and now it was Heeseung’s turn to fall silent while you and Jake softly joked and made casual commentary on the damage the storm had did. You would have forgotten he was there at all if not for his constantly sniffling and the fact his presence shifted your entire atmosphere.

“Be safe yeah?” You weren’t sure if it was meant to have a double meaning but Jake made your stomach turn as he left your side to head to the watch tower.

Heeseung was clearing his throat beside you but you ignored him in favor of finding an umbrella to sit near, not quite under so you could still feel the sun on your skin. He opted for sitting directly under the shade and you were brought back to when you were kids and he was always the last one inside.

He was impossible to tame and get out of the water even long after the sun set and the parents began to call you all home but he couldn’t be more different now.

Memories of his freckled tan face smiling at you, eyes squinted against the bright sky with his hand above his eyebrows to try and block it so he could see you better. His laugh always the loudest sound over the crashing waves and the way it felt when he’d wrap his arms around you to throw you into the water.

Now he was practically curling in on himself to avoid the rays and he looked almost pained at the sounds of the kids playing and splashing around.

It was hard to believe this was the same boy who had you convinced there was salt water in his veins.

“Since when are you getting high?”

You didn’t sound at all accusatory in your question, just plainly asking for an answer to the obvious but he immediately tensed up and sent a glare that would have you believing you’d gotten it wrong if it wasn’t for the embarrassment in his eyes.

He took a few seconds to answer but you extended your thin patience towards him and waited.

“I’m not anymore.” He had a funny tone to his that almost sounded like he was saying an inside joke, something you clearly didn’t understand and your face furrowed. “That’s why I’m here actually.”

Your mouth was parting in realization and you couldn’t help the bitter laugh that slipped out of you. You felt overwhelmingly stupid in that moment but it wasn’t necessarily your fault for not assuming the worst about his intentions.

“Here I thought you were back because you actually missed us. Didn’t realize this was your rehab.” He didn’t look amused anymore and you were struck by how much you wanted to see him smile at you again.

He nodded and looked away from you and that was enough for you to realize the conversation was over.

—

four years ago

You’d never been anywhere else but you had a hard time believing any other place could measure up to what you were experiencing now.

The sounds of your lifelong friends splashing each other and laughing as they took unexpected blows from the waves, bodies crashing through the surface of the water and pushing back through with groans of playful annoyance.

You knew the sun was setting soon which meant the head lifeguard (who happened to be jake’s older brother) was going to usher you all back home and away from the water but you would have given anything for the moment to freeze.

Even if your butt was damp from the wet sand you were sitting on and you were starting to shiver from the lack of clothes paired with the disappearing heat.

You watched as another head popped out of the water before standing to his full height and glancing around like he was searching for something. His gaze stopped on you and a bright smile broke out on his face at the sight of you sitting on the beach and observing the scene.

It made you feel warm to see him brush off your friends and push through the water so he could get over to you, shaking his head to semi dry his hair and laughing when you squealed at the sudden wetness hitting you.

“You cold?” He was flopping down onto the sand next to you and his cold skin brushed yours for a second before you flinched away and groaned.

“Yeah but I think Jaeyun’s brother is gonna make us leave any second anyways.” You were scrunching your nose up as you looked over at him and he smiled up at you.

Heeseung always seemed to be smiling but especially in your direction.

You weren’t an idiot and you didn’t at all miss the fact that he was extra attached to you. You had a deeper bond than anybody else in the group and even though you weren’t exactly sure when the transition into something deeper happened, you were sure you both could feel it constantly bubbling under the surface.

It wasn’t something you felt like you needed to confess or say out loud officially because you had all the time in the world here with him.

“Come swim with us.” He was watching you as your hand reached over to swipe the drying sand off his forehead.

“Not happening Hee sorry.” You smiled when he groaned and rolled over onto his back, knowing you had made up your mind by the tone in your voice. “We can always swim tomorrow.”

—

Tomorrow never came because the next morning you were racing down to the Lee house with a plate of cinnamon rolls Riki’s mom had made and finding it almost completely empty.

Your heart had dropped into your stomach but you still slowly approached the familiar door and knocked against it softly.

Typically you didn’t even bother knocking considering you were there more than your own house but something was off and you suddenly felt like an intruder.

The sight of his grandma opening the door and giving you a pained expression when she saw it was you almost fully killed you and if that didn’t do it then the fact she softly whispered to you that he wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon definitely did.

It was hard not to grab her by the shoulders and demand she tell you where he had gone and it was even harder to hold in your sobs as you ran all the way back to the house next to yours, bursting into Riki’s living room and climbing into his bed to cry while you waited for him to get off work.

He’d barely understood you through your blubbering sobs and when he did he was joining you in the bed and falling into a hurt silence.

The hurt rippled through you for months until you gathered the courage to ask his grandma for his address so you could write him a letter.

She was clearly reluctant but she gave it to you anyways and you spent all week writing it and expressing to him how you felt, both for him and about the fact he had left without saying goodbye. You wished she’d turned you down when it got sent right back unopened and the same thing happened for the next twenty after that.

You kept writing them for two years even though they’d always make their way back to the post office and at the end of that summer, you finally put the pen down.

At some point during the third year you’d gotten a postcard that had no writing on it or even a signature. It was just a blank card with a photo of some cartoonish cherry blossoms and a small river.

You somehow knew it was from him without any confirmation and you wept like a baby in the middle of all the mailboxes, hugging it to your chest and swearing you’d never let yourself feel like that again. You almost sent it back to him like he’d done to you for so long but instead you stuffed it under your pillow and tried to not feel it’s weight every night you slept.

Now four years later he was suddenly everywhere again.

He’d started to work at the surfboard rental shop across from your own place and he was practically at every single hangout like nothing had changed.

Except everything had changed and he was such a jarringly different person that you almost felt like you were hanging out with the corpse of your old friend.

“We’ve gotta get you some sun man.” Jake was disguising his concerns with some light teasing one of the days you all made your way up to Sunghoon’s place but you all knew Heeseung and his current state was the constant elephant in the room.

“Yeah.” His noncommittal low mumbling was about the most you got out of him these days and you sighed from where you were laying on the couch.

His empty gaze landed on you when you were standing up and pushing Sunghoon’s legs off of you (much to his annoyance). You approached him and stuck your hand out in his direction just to be met with a raised eyebrow and no movement.

“Cmon let’s go.” You were firm in your words and shaking your hand slightly to urge him to take it in his before you got too impatient. He sighed at you but did exactly that and you pushed aside the warmth that spread you in favor of pulling him up so he was standing.

You were slightly thrown off by how close he ended up next to you so you took a step back while raking over his tall frame and clearing your throat.

“I’m sick of your moping.” You didn’t expect him to continue holding your hand after you pulled him up but you took advantage of the opportunity and started to tug him behind you as you walked towards the doors.

Heeseung stayed silent as you dragged him outside and down the long sandy steps that led down the hillside and onto the small private beach that the park family owned. You never hung out there much as kids considering you weren’t allowed to surf here and you preferred the large waves and active community of the public one but it would do for now.

“What are we doing?” He was finally speaking once you dropped his hand and turned to look at him.

“Going swimming obviously.” You were pulling your shirt over your head the second you finished speaking so you just barely saw his reaction to your hands grabbing the bottom hem.

It was long enough that you managed to watch his eyes widen and drop down to the sudden skin showing but he somehow was able to have a blank expression again by the time you got it off and tossed it onto the sand carelessly.

You’d turned to walk closer to the water but you stopped and looked over your shoulder when you realized he wasn’t following you anymore.

“Cmon.” Your thumbs pushed down the hem of your shorts to showcase the rest of your bikini and now you heard him scoff a laugh as the water touched your ankles.

The water was unusually cold from the few cloudy days you’d had but you were determined now to get him to have some fun and open up a little bit before he really started to bum the rest of you out.

You fought your smile when you heard light splashing behind you and when you finally turned around you were thrown off by the amount of pale skin you were seeing. Obviously you knew he’d have to take off his shirt to get in the water but you were mainly stuck on the changes to his body.

He’d clearly filled out, something you could have guessed from the height, and now he looked surprisingly strong unlike his lanky frame he had when you were younger. Outfit of his ribs slightly showing, he definitely had some muscle definition that you looked away from immediately.

Your eyes landed on what was even more jarring and he surprisingly didn’t shy away when you scanned over the bruising covering his stomach and sides.

You met his gaze for just a second and he just stood there with the light ripples hitting his belly button.

“Get into some trouble?” Your question was light and almost teasing so he had room to ignore you. You didn’t want to bombard him for answers especially since it wasn’t really your place anymore.

If this had been four years ago, you would have wrapped him up in your arms and demanded to know who possibly could have hurt him but that boy wasn’t here anymore. He definitely wasn’t the cold one standing in front of you.

“Something like that.” His response was as uncharacteristic as you expected it to be and you simply nodded your head before waiting for him to catch up to you.

He was up to his chest now in the water and you were starting to struggle to stay afloat which seemed to amuse him if the quirk of his lips told you anything.

“Isn’t this nice?” Your voice was quieter now and you almost face palmed at how nervous and unnatural you sounded.

Heeseung was just watching you like you were the one who had changed but there was something heavy in his eyes now. You almost flinched at the feeling of his warm leg brushing yours under the water once he was finally starting to relax and float a little but you managed to collect yourself.

He hummed in agreement but you could tell he was just doing it to give you the answer he knew you wanted to hear.

You wondered if the cold water felt good on his bruises or if you were just making him feel worse by trying to help.

“Surprised you didn’t bring the others.” He was talking again surprisingly and now he was fully floating on his back with his gaze set on the sky and the colors of the setting sun. “Since you and Sunghoon are so close now.”

The jealous tone of his voice was not something you were used to and you didn’t realize he could sound even less like himself until he proved you wrong.

Heeseung and you had always been each others number ones and he’d never had to doubt his position in your life before but it made you blood boiling mad that he had such an accusatory tone now like you’d done something wrong.

Did he expect you to sit around and mope forever, holding out hope that he’d maybe decide to return one day despite not even knowing where he’d gone?

“We’ve always been close Heeseung. We all are.” Your voice was stable despite how the opposite you felt and something unsaid was being heard loudly in your choice of words.

For the first time since he came back, you were blatantly excluding him from the group. None of you were teenagers anymore and you’d been through a decade of stories and experiences just in the last few years as you transitioned into adults.

Maybe the sight of him now, grown up and empty, wouldn’t have hurt so bad if you watched it happen slowly instead of all at once. Maybe it wouldn’t have happened this way at all and he would have been a totally different person with your influence.

You immediately felt guilty and gross for giving yourself that much credit.

“It’s different now though.” He seemed set in his idea that you and Sunghoon had some secret deeper bond and you didn’t even try to argue with him this time.

“You’re different.” The response you settled with was pretty petty and he seemed to agree judging by the way he scoffed but he was sitting up and moving a tad closer to you in the water.

“Yeah well you’re exactly the same.” He said it so simply that you couldn’t tell if it was meant to be an insult, compliment or simply just an observation. He was either calling you immature or making a callback to how your relationship used to be.

You figured it was the latter when his hand was brushing against your waist under the water.

“Not all of me.” Your voice had gotten lower now as you realized the mood was shifting to something you’d not experienced with him before.

You’d always found Heeseung attractive obviously but he was so young and you weren’t exactly the age either where you were thinking about him in this way. Sure, he’d been touchy back then with his hand in yours or an arm around your waist as you walked together but never with this look in his eye.

It felt wrong to have him shifting even closer to you, bare chest and his wet hair almost covering his eyes as he stared down due to your newfound height difference.

Mainly the wrong feeling came due to the fact that you barely knew him now and you didn’t want to get to know him like this. You wished it had happened naturally, your friendship had returned when he did and so did your comfortability and maybe eventually the love buried deep in your chest.

But you were so desperate to feel something from him, anything that might indicate he had once cared about you. So you didn’t push him away when he leaned down to kiss you.

His mouth was hot against yours and suddenly all of the teasing touches and heavy glances made a lot more sense.

He had a desperation you didn’t expect and your head was spinning by the time he was pulling you even closer by your waist and slotting his knee in between your legs under the water.

“Hee.” You breathed out his name as he licked into your mouth and he shushed you impatiently, not wanting to give you the chance to stop him before he’d even gotten to really have you.

You weren’t going to and your hips were rolling against his leg, the water hitting higher up on your stomach and making you gasp from the cold and how it splashed over your covered chest.

He seemed to notice considering he was impatiently pulling the fabric of your bikini top away from your skin and you moaned when his mouth was leaving yours in favor of hungrily connecting with your hard nipples. The warmth of his mouth made you spin and you held the back of his head against your chest.

His knee was rocking under you and you kept grinding yourself down on it, free hand wrapping around his back and feeling the muscles clench everytime he moved himself towards you.

“Hee.” you gasped out his name again and this time he atleast hummed in acknowledgement, big hands gripping your waist and forcing you to keep moving against him.

“Cmon y/n, stop fucking talking.” His mouth was back on yours and this time it was you who immediately licked into his closed lips, the sound of his low voice spurring you on even more.

He was lifting you out of the water and your legs wrapped around his waist so you wouldn’t fall. You didn’t even realize he’d be strong enough to lift you but he seemed to have no problem as he started walking towards the shore and you rolled your hips into his hard on that you could now feel pressing against you.

Your mouth parted when you felt how hard he was already and he laid you gently down onto the sand before climbing ontop of you and kissing you again.

This time his body was covering you and you whined when his hips lowered down on yours.

He was sitting up for only a second so he could finish untying your bathing suit and tugging it off of you and you watched as his eyes locked hungrily on your bare chest while you panted heavily.

Your eyes were big and wanting as you stared up at him and the sight was almost too much so he went back to kissing you deeply.

His body was still just as wet as yours and the feeling of his hot skin warming up what the water had cooled was almost as addicting as the way he rolled his hips down slowly.

“Fuck y/n.” He was groaning into your neck and you inhaled at the way he was biting the skin and definitely leaving marks on you. “Used to be mine remember?”

You were shaking your head in disagreement but the way you were rocking your hips and holding onto the back of his head was very telling, you might as well have had his name carved on you.

“Gonna make you mine again.”

Heeseung was pushing your bathing suit bottoms to the side and playing with the waistband of his before impatiently shoving them down onto his thighs. You were both hurt by his impatience and extremely turned on by the fact he was about to take you on the beach without even fully undressing you.

“Tell me you want it.” His tongue licked up to your ear and you gasped at the feeling of his thick head pressing against your wetness, your legs spreading automatically for him.

“Want it. Want it Hee.” You were breathing heavily and trying to fuck yourself down on him even though it was pointless considering how strong his grip on your waist was, pinning you down against the sand and feeling the way you arched up into him when he started to push himself inside.

The slide was easy and your cry was loud enough that you almost worried the other boys would be able to hear you.

“Fucking tight.” His voice was strained as he spat the words through gritted teeth and you clenched around him at the praise, wanting to make him feel as good as he was so easily doing to you. “Perfect pussy for me, sliding right in. So wet y/n.”

His constant use of your name made you feel even more insane and you whined louder when he bottomed out inside you. Heeseung didn’t waste any time before he was starting to roughly fuck into you and it was exactly what you needed after years of pent of anger and emotions.

“Fuck me hard Hee.” You begged him through your cries and he gladly delivered exactly what you needed, slamming his hips against yours so fast it was painful. “Fucking hate you.”

“Hate you so much.” His rebuttal was quick and he caught your mouth in a rough kiss as he spoke, teeth hitting yours making you wince in pain.

“Show me. Fuck me like you hate me.”

He was doing what you asked without any question and you almost broke from how much you could feel it radiating off of him, hate and anger stemming from something you didn’t even understand.

Then it was over before you even processed it started and you were both left panting on the sand as the sun finished setting and the sand underneath you dried.

Heeseung was rolling away from you to land on his back with a grunt and your entire body shivered when you felt his arm pressing against yours and giving you a little bit of warmth that barely made up for how cold you felt all over.

Everything surrounding you was cold now and him not saying a single world just made it ten times worse.

You were hit with shame and guilt tenfold and tears were springing to yours eyes before you could stop them. You vaguely heard him shifting next to you and sniffing loudly, your head turning to him.

Your eyes grew in size when you saw he’d dug something out of his discarded shirts pocket and was sitting up with his head turned away from you like it would make what he was doing any less obvious.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Your voice was low and venomous and your hands uncomfortably went to cover your chest as you sat up and scooted away from him. “You’re getting high?”

He didn’t even look over at you as he cleared his burning throat and shoved whatever the small capsule was back into his crumbled up shirt. The sight of him rolling his eyes like you were annoying him almost made you just sink into the ocean and disappear.

“Get dressed before they come down here and find you like that.” He was standing up as he spoke again and you hated that the tears were fully falling now, hot on your flushed cheeks.

Your shaking hands did their best to tie up your bikini top and he finally looked down at where you were still sitting on the sand and sobbing. You weren’t sure he could see the tears considering how dark it was now but when he turned his face away with a cold expression you knew that he had.

Heeseung was pulling his shift over his head and hesitating for just a few seconds while looking at the stairs back up to the house, almost like he was considering leaving you there.

“Who even are you?” You weren’t sure how you managed to speak so strongly through your cries but he clearly felt the impact of it as he tensed up and his jaw locked.

“Does it matter?”

——

After you’d gotten dressed you had stormed past him up the steps only after slamming your shoulder into his side and steeling your expression. He gave you a few seconds before he was following you up but he didn’t come inside when you got up there.

You’d gone up to Riki and quietly asked him if he could take you home, cold hands shaking as they gripped his wrist and eyes still swollen.

The other boys were silent when they saw the state of you and you just hoped they couldn’t guess what had happened, shame hitting you hard at even the idea of them finding out how you’d just been used and discarded so easily.

You sat there the entire car ride back to town with your head half out the window and the warm summer air doing it’s best to stop the tears from rolling down your face.

Riki didn’t ask you any questions and you were grateful when he pulled into his own driveway and not yours, not even realizing how much you didn’t want to go home until you saw your front door and felt the nausea building.

It was unspoken that he let you rot in the bed in the spare room for the first few days and by day three Jake was rubbing your back softly and trying to get you to eat something.

Sunghoon came and went constantly and you spent most nights with him laying beside you, not touching or speaking but just having him there. You weren’t sure if they’d figured it out or if Heeseung told them but something in you knew that they knew what happened.

You started to feel slightly better after a week of moping and letting yourself finally feel the heartbreak that’d be been building for so many years and after two weeks you were back to work.

If you spent more your shift looking out the window to try to get a glimpse of him in the shop across the street then that was your own personal secret.

He was still somebody you cared about as frustrating as that was but it still made you sick that you started to worry when you hadn’t seen him for a few weeks.

It had been almost a month since that night on the beach and you no longer could assume he was just avoiding you. The town was too small and you would have run into by now regardless if you wanted that or not so he’d either been completely isolating himself or he was gone again and you weren’t sure which one of those hurt you more.

“He’s still here.” Sunghoon’s voice was low next to your ear as you laid in his bed this time, giving Riki and his family a break even though he insisted they didn’t need or want one.

You still wanted to come up here with Sunghoon even though it was a bit hard considering what had happened last time but you figured it was hard for him to be in such a big house all by himself now that his dad wasn’t coming anymore.

“Did you talk to him?” You were rolling onto your stomach and looking at him with wide eyes and he sighed softly as he studied the hope on your face.

“Not really.” He was mumbling now and the pout your lips formed almost made him feel sick. “Just for a second. I was skating past his place.”

You were nodding in understanding but you felt weirdly settled that he hadn’t gone anywhere and he was seemingly here to stay despite how it always felt like he was trying his hardest to get away from you all. You should have get the times worse that he was around and you had a change to run into him sooner than later but you were an idiot at heart.

“He doesn’t deserve you being sad for him, you know that right?” Your hair was being pushed behind your ear by Sunghoon’s hand and you watched him as he stared.

He looked vulnerable and it made sense considering he was not the type of person to say things like that to anybody, especially not to you. Your heart hurt hearing it from somebody else but you gave a soft nod anyways despite not at all agreeing with what he was saying.

“I mean it. You’re like… the best thing any of us could even begin to imagine and he acts like you’re going to stay no matter how he treats you. He’s always been like that, you just didn’t want to see it.”

Your face fell as he kept talking and getting more and more upset. You’d had no idea he felt this way or even noticed things like that and you hated that you started to think about what Heeseung had insinuated before on the beach.

It made you feel overly warm to consider that Sunghoon might have some type of feelings towards you and yet here he was, laying in bed with you for days and comforting you after you let some asshole break your heart for the thousandth time.

“I’m not going to let him do that to me anymore Hoon.” You heard your voice as it came out and heard how obvious the lie was, knowing he did too when he was just blankly staring at you.

“You love him.” His response was curt but it hit you full force and you tried your best not to let any visible reaction show. “You chose him a long time ago.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about you choosing Heeseung over yourself and your own well-being or if he was once again saying what you think he might have been.

The guilt coursed through you when you were laying your head down on his chest and listening to how fast his heartbeat started to pulse but you couldn’t look at his honest face anymore and the conversation needed to end before it was all too much.

It was only building more when the next morning you were writing him a note letting him know you’d be back soon before hitching a ride back into town.

You spent the entire hour it took getting to Heeseung’s house both trying to gather the courage to go through with your idea and also trying to talk yourself out of it, reaching a peak of panic when you were knocking softly on his door.

He took a long time to open and just as you were about to turn around and leave, there he was.

Standing in the doorway that you’d seen him in close to a thousands times but looking so different that it felt brand new. He didn’t look surprised to see you on his porch and that made you feel even shittier.

“You okay?” He surprised you with the question and how genuine it sounded but you kept your face flat.

“Are you okay?” You emphasized the word and shifted uncomfortably in place until he was stepping aside and letting you in the small house. “The boys are worried about you.”

If he knew you were lying than he didn’t mention it and you took a second to glance around the living room.

Not much had changed about it besides the numerous boxes that were either still unpacked or in the process of being put back away. You didn’t want to ask him and when you met his eyes again you could tell he didn’t want to answer.

“Well I’m fine.” His answer finally came and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he was trying not to say something.

He was such a mystery to you that it was genuinely started to get under your skin. He looked at you like you’d done something so terrible to him and you had absolutely no idea what was bothering him so much, especially since he was the one who had left you.

“You’re fine?” Your voice was flat and bitter and he nodded stiffly to which you scoffed and rubbed your face in annoyance. “So you don’t want to talk about it? You don’t think we should?”

“Go talk to Sunghoon if you want someone to talk emotions with.” His gaze was fiery on you and you almost flinched away from it like it really could have burned you.

You stared at him dumbfounded for a few breaths and the air in the living room was so tense you worried the walls would collapse from it. He actually looked slightly regretful after he said it which shocked you but it didn’t really matter since it was already in your head now.

Heeseung was taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair before looking at you one more time.

“I’ll get dressed and we can go.” You didn’t respond to him and your hurt stare was clearly making him uncomfortable. “Is that okay?”

You waited just a few more seconds before you were giving him a curt nod and covering your mouth from the shock of the entire conversation and whatever was happening between the two of you.

He was turning to walk down the hallway to his room but stopping midway and giving you a glance over his shoulder like he was making sure you hadn’t left.

Your shoulders lost all tension the second he was out of sight and you leaned against the wall to help hold you up, proud of yourself for not running out or embarrassingly tearing up again.

It was quiet for a long time and you didn’t even want to begin to imagine what was taking him so long to throw on a simple outfit but you’d begun to wander around the house while you waited, ending up in the kitchen.

“Oh y/n.”

The soft voice calling out for you had your head turning swiftly and your eyes widened when you saw his mom standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Ms Lee.” You sounded astonished and you hoped she wasn’t too offended by the fact you were standing in her house with your sandals still covered in sand. “I didn’t know you were home. I’m sorry to barge in.”

“Always such a sweet girl.” She waved her hands at you like you were ridiculous for apologizing for such a small thing and your heart warmed when she crossed the room to hold your face gently. “You’re friends with my son again? I’ll take that as a good sign.”

You smiled lightly and just nodded at her, not having the nerve to tell her you weren’t exactly friends and he definitely wasn’t doing as well as the hope in her voice led you to believe she thought he was.

“You were always so good for him. He worried so much about you never forgiving him for leaving but you must understand it wasn’t his fault.” Her hands were warm on your face and you felt a lot of guilt as she spoke.

You weren’t exactly sure you were supposed to be hearing this so you didn’t ask her any questions or pry.

Heeseung must’ve heard his moms voice because he looked flustered by the time he came out of his room, barely pulling his shirt over his head as he crossed into the kitchen and looked between the two of you.

“Ma, what are you doing back?” His voice sounded overly similar to how it used to as he comfortably addressed her and the difference shocked you.

“Don’t make me sound like such a bother.” She was lightly scolding him before letting go of your face and you immediately missed the warmth of her hands and gaze. “I was just telling y/n how happy I am you two are together again.”

Your eyes widened at the same time his did and your face flushed bright red at the implication that she thought you and Heeseung were dating now, along with how she apparently had thought you’d been dating beforehand too.

“Oh relax you two. I just mean together as in the same space.” She laughed and waved her hands in dismissal again but you definitely didn’t relax. “Where is he taking you?”

It took you a few seconds to realize she was addressing you and your mouth parted in silence, fumbling for an answer since you didn’t actually know where he was planning for the two of you to go.

“It’s a surprise Ma.” His voice was gentle and so was the kiss he laid on the side of her head, her eyes shutting happily as he kissed her teeth and rubbed him on his shoulder. “But we’ve gotta get going.”

She was shooing you away without another word and giving you a heavy glance that you didn’t really understand, following behind Heeseung as he led you out back through the side entrance that came out onto their driveway.

“Oh holy shit. You still have this thing?” You were curling your nose up at the sight of the old beat up pickup truck that his grandpa used to drive you all around in.

You always got the luxury of sitting on one of the other two seats inside since you were the only girl but all the boys had a blast everytime they had to pile into the bed and feel the wind drying them off as you drove home from the beaches and waterfalls.

Heeseung’s grandpa had died when you were about twelve and the truck sat in the driveway for many years until his grandma was giving him the keys for his 16th birthday, a wink and a swift warning before sending him off to pick you all up.

“I still remember you outside my house blaring on the horn.” You were smiling to yourself as you went around the front so you could climb into the passenger side, feeling the rough leather.

He was getting in a second after you and you tried your best to stare as he situated himself and cleared his throat before putting the truck into drive.

Your gaze on him made him glance your way as he was backing out but it barely lasted a blink before he was looking away.

You waited an hour before you were speaking again, spending the entire time with the windows down and the sound of the loud wind filling up whatever silence the old radio left. It was playing some tape his grandpa had left behind and his hands were tapping the steering wheel in time with it.

It felt the most like your old times with him than anything else had so far and you had to remind yourself that things were still different.

You may have taken this drive with him a dozen times but things had changed. His hand wasn’t on your knee drawing shapes and your eyes weren’t bright and filled with love as you laughed and yelled over the music together.

That picture was a lot warmer than what reality was and you glanced over at him again.

The mountains were stretching behind his side profile now that you were farther away from town than you usually went and he looked so relaxed and calm that you almost felt bad for ruining the silence.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going anytime soon?” You were turning your body so your back was against the car door and your legs were curled into the middle seat, a few inches from the side of his thigh.

He didn’t answer you right away and you scoffed in annoyance at his audacity to just ignore you straight to your face like he hadn’t been the one to invite you here. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked away from him in upset but he was pulling onto the side of the road and parking the car before you could get really mad.

You sat there for a few seconds while he gripped the steering wheel and you took the time to glance around the area.

It was a long dirt road with a lot of thick trees and bushy areas, no other cars or parking lots in site. You were beyond confused and if it was anyone else with you then you’d even feel a little scared but despite Heeseung feeling like a stranger, he wasn’t one.

“Are you okay with walking a bit?” His voice was low when he finally spoke and you noticed he sounded similar to how he did while talking to his mom earlier, your heart tugging at how casual he was being towards you after weeks of hearing him sound so angry and empty.

“Y-yeah.” Your eyes widened at the sudden question and you felt embarrassed for stuttering even though he didn’t seem to care considering he was nodding and getting out of the truck. “Not a problem.” You mumbled to yourself before following him.

He was disappearing into the tree line and you would have been more confused if you didn’t see the faintest evidence of an old trail that had clearly been overgrown.

Heeseung was confident in his steps and every turn he took seemed like it was practiced so you quickly gathered that he knew exactly where he was and you wondered when he would have come out here enough to be this knowledgeable about it.

You were together pretty much all the time as kids and as far as you knew he hadn’t gone anywhere since coming back to town so his mystery was just growing even more to you.

You’d been walking for about twenty minutes with just the sounds of snapping sticks and the wind rustling the trees before it was opening up to reveal a small waterfall and a pond amongst the trees.

The bank was completely made up of rocks and fallen tree logs, something completely different than the sandy shores you were used to. You could tell right away this wasn’t a place for swimming but you just kept following him as he hopped onto the large boulders before eventually sitting on one.

You watched the side of his face as you waited for him to explain and he just watched the view with a slightly pained expression.

“Can you… can you not look at me.” His first words hit you hard and you flinched at the rough tone he’d taken on again. “Please it just will make this easier.”

Although confused, you nodded and opted for instead staring at the way your feet were dangling over the open water. Your thighs were burning from the rough edge of the boulder and the height you were sat at was slightly intimidating but you willed yourself to not look at him no matter how much you wanted to.

“I came here the day that I left. Stole the truck and ran out of the house even though my mom was practically tripping over herself in the driveway trying to get me to stop. I think she thought if I went I wouldn’t come back.” He took a break for you to process what he was telling you and the last sentence hit you hard.

You knew he loved his mom and hearing about her fear and what actually went down the day they moved away was almost too much and you considered asking him to stop talking.

Instead you clenched your hand onto the cold boulders surface and waited for him to keep going.

“It was a world of things that don’t matter anymore, never fucking matter but I need you to understand how much I regret it.” You could feel him looking at you now.

“I should have said goodbye to you and I should’ve answered your letters but I knew I’d come back the second I heard a single word from you and I couldn’t leave her alone. She needed me and I figured you’d be okay with the others. You’d hate me but you’d be okay.”

His voice was getting shakier and you couldn’t resist looking at him anymore although he didn’t look upset that you had done so, his hand stretching the distance between you so he could grip your hand that was practically clawing at the stone.

You squeezed his warm hand tight in yours as you sniffled and the tears built up quickly when you saw how nervous he looked.

“And I’m so fucking sorry for what I did to you at Sunghoon’s.” He grit his teeth as he said it like it pained him to remember and your stomach turned uncomfortably, almost feeling sick at the memory of how shut off he had been now. Especially comparing it to the way he was looking at you now. “I was angry at myself and took it out on you. It was fucking disgusting.”

A sob hit you at that and you don’t know if him scooting closer made you feel better or worse but you leaned into him anyways and felt your heart calm at the way he wrapped his arms around you.

“Y/n I don’t regret it okay? Just the way that it happened but you know… I-I hope you know that I’ve always-“ He sighed and stopped talking like he couldn’t find the words and you wiped your face quickly.

You leaned away from him just enough to get a good look at his face and he looked panicked like he didn’t know how you were going to respond.

“You’re not high right now right?”

His face fell in hurt at your question before it was turning into understanding and guilty, the shake of his head not doing nearly enough to lessen your worries which he quickly seemed to notice because he was leaning closer and making sure you could see him when he spoke.

“I’m not high I promise you. I haven’t been since that night on the beach.” He sounded genuine and you would have believed him before but you didn’t know him now and he easily could’ve been lying to you. “How can I help you know that?”

The desperation in his question and expression made him look so much younger and another sob hit you as you started to see him for who he was.

Not some corpse like imposter who had moved back to town and taken the identity of your old friend and lover but just a lost and confused Heeseung who had clearly gone through something you didn’t understand yet.

So when you kissed him it wasn’t for any other reason this time, it wasn’t because you just wanted to feel that he was actually there or because you thought there was no other way to be close to him again but it was because you wanted him to know that you believed him and you were patient.

You’d been patient and you’d continue to be because Sunghoon had been right when he said you always loved Heeseung and you’d constantly choose him.

Something in you told you that this time he’d do his best to choose you too, his hands holding your face so gently and his thumbs swiping soothingly over your cheeks to rid you of the constant stream of tears despite his own wetting his face too.

You weren’t even really sure what you were crying for.

If it was for the pain he’d put you through or the pain he was dealing with himself. Maybe it was because of the lost time and the years you could’ve spent together or the relief at not having to experience his absence again, something beautiful in the way you were holding each other and sharing the grief of what could have been.

You could only hope that what will be would be worth every tear in the end.

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #heeseung angst #heeseung au #heeseung smut #heeseung imagine #heeseung x reader #heeseung fic #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung

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cleoluvrr · 6 months

Text

strawberry shortcake (rafe cameron x reader)

got sent home to change 'cause my skirt is too short.

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, non!con, dub!con, spanking, use of belt, victim-blaming, manipulation, degradation, explicit language, depiction of explicit sexual acts

word count: 9.1k

masterlist

you and rafe were…complicated. you’d known him just as long as you’ve known his sister, and yet, you’d never had a particularly great relationship.

your father worked closely with the cameron family. he and ward met each other in college, but went their separate ways after graduation. ward returned to the outer banks after a few years of living on the mainland, slowly making a name for himself as a real estate developer. your own parents moved back to charlotte after graduating, meeting at school and getting married in their hometown. raised in the city, all of your family was there, and all your friends were there.

one fated day, your parents decided that your entire family was going to pack up and move to the outer banks. you were eight years old at the time, so of course it felt like your entire life was falling apart. everything you ever knew was going to be miles and miles away just because your parents said so.

it felt so sudden, so unexpected. as far as you were aware, there was no one you knew in the outer banks. your family had a beach house there that you would visit every other summer, but that was all. to you, they might as well have said that you were moving to a deserted island with zero human interaction.

the moment you arrived the summer before you started third grade, it was a complete culture shock. you were used to living in the city; busy streets, skyscrapers that kissed the clouds and lit up with the colors of the rainbow, and so many people that you’d never see them more than twice. kildare was the complete opposite. you could drive across the entire town and back in under two hours and the tallest building in town was a church. everybody knew everybody, and every person had their place.

you only found that after your parents were pulled over by a police officer while driving around figure-eight. it wasn’t too often people that looked like you drove around the “nice” side of town in a shiny, new car. not that they’d never seen it, but they knew all the people that did, and nobody in your family was one of them. you couldn’t count the number of times someone had asked if you were lost or ‘supposed to be here’ when playing around your front yard, taking a walk, or existing in any public place on figure-eight.

your parents allowed you a week to adjust before they threw you into the merciless waters of small town social politics.

the first time you were properly introduced to the cameron family was during sunday service. you didn’t grow up going to church despite being from the bible belt, mostly because big city life didn’t revolve around it as much as it did in kildare. your parents forced you out of bed early in the morning to get ready, your mother all but stuffing you into the best sunday dress you owned. like any eight-year-old, you complained about it. you hated blue, but your parents insisted on all of your outfits being color-coordinated. the mary janes and frilly socks made you feel like a little kid, but your mom wouldn’t budge on it.

begrudgingly, you sat through an hour long sermon in a church filled with flamboyantly dressed rich people. and then you sat through another hour of brunch with the camerons and their friends, even more annoyed than you were sitting through service in the hot, old chapel.

ward and your father had kept in contact over the years, and it was a couple years before the move that the two of them became business partners. your dad became the cameron family’s lawyer, and it was easier to actually be in the same place as them rather than hundreds of miles away. your mother didn’t mind the move; in fact, she was excited. she worked as an oncologist back home, and the lack of them on the island meant there was great demand for her work.

it was there where you met sarah cameron, the girl that became your friend at first sight. she was younger than you, but at that age it really made no difference. the little blonde girl was excited to meet someone new and declared that you two would be ‘best friends forever just like your dads. though it took some warming up on your part, ever since that day, the pair of you have been attached by the hip.

rafe, however, not so much.

“hey, sarah?” you called out to the girl standing across from you, her surprised eyes wide as they snapped towards yours after being pulled out of the conversation with her boyfriend.

“yeah?”

“could you tell your brother to fuck off?” a smile lit up your face as the question slipped from your gloss-covered lips. “please?”

you had come over to sarah’s house a few hours ago, the girl inviting you to attend a large party that her parents planned every summer for the fourth of july. at first, you weren’t too keen on coming, but the two of you hadn’t spent much time together this summer and you felt too guilty to turn her down. this was the summer before you left her for nine months to attend college, and even though you didn’t want to come, you did it to make her happy.

the moment you stepped foot onto the property, rafe buzzed around your ear like a common house fly with comment after comment on your appearance.

“what’s the matter, princess?” rafe speaks up from his spot just a few feet away. his head quirks to the side, a look of faux-concern covering his face. “stick up your ass a little too big today?”

topper and kelce chuckle at the comment, attempting to hide the sound by clearing their throats when they catch the dangerous cut of your eyes. your gaze meet rafe’s again and you watch as he raises the whiteclaw to his lips, the white can covering the smirk on his face as he takes a sip.

when you first met rafe, he was nice enough–very cordial. the boy was only older than you by a a year, but he acted as if the difference was so significant that he couldn’t be seen around you. he wasn’t necessarily shy, but every boy that age was concerned with catching cooties. it was impossible to keep his distance, though, especially since your dads worked together and you were constantly over their house. you and rafe maintained a somewhat friendly relationship with each other for years–never getting as close as you and sarah, but it was amiable.

that all changed when you got to the eighth grade.

the older boy had started his first year of high school, while you and sarah were still in middle school together.

the difference in maturity was beginning to have an affect on your relationship with both of them. you were turning fourteen and sarah was turning twelve; it felt like you were in totally different worlds. she was starting to become more of a little sister to you than a friend, but you loved her no less than before.

rafe was only fifteen, but he was in high school now. he hung out with guys older than him, and that meant doing whatever to impress them. he had completely brushed you off as a ‘little girl,’ and acted like you were a burden to have around if you were at tannyhill while his friends were there.

it hurt you at first. you knew the two of you weren’t close, but to be completely disregarded for people he barely knew didn’t make you feel great about yourself.

you were naive to believe it’d be any other way.

when it was your turn to enter high school, you felt alone. sarah was still in middle school, and rafe treated you like dirt on the bottom of his shoe. it was like you had to start all over now that you didn’t have either of them to cling onto. it wasn’t hard for you to make friends, but you still felt alone without your best friend–and betrayed by her brother.

“rafe, stop! you’re being an ass.” sarah shoves her brother, eyebrows furrowed as she scolds her older silbing.

“what? it’s a joke, chill out.” rafe barely stumbles from the shove. his eyes remain on you, not even sparing his sister more than a second of a glance. “she can take a joke. right, y/n?”

“of course i can take a joke, rafe!” you tilted your head in the same manner as he did just a few moments ago. “remember that time you asked me out senior year? that was really funny.”

a smile grazed your lips softly as you watched him freeze in place for the briefest second before regaining composure. both his friends and sarah snorted at the quip, catching onto the implication. nobody noticed the look shared between you and the oldest cameron, nor the rise in tension.

it was the summer before your junior year and rafe’s senior–two weeks before midsummers, to be exact. rafe hadn’t let up on what was the borderline bullying he’d been subjecting you to since you started high school; in fact, it had only increased that summer. you were at the cameron’s house almost everyday with sarah, and her brother didn’t spare you a moment of peace when you happened to come across each other on the property–or off of it.

rafe spotted you alone by the dock, tossing rocks into the water as you stared into the dimming light of the july sky. you knew it was him approaching because his feet were heavy against the twigs lining the ground, not light and nimble like sarah’s.

“y/n,” he called out from behind you, towering presence warm at your back. he sounded nervous, which struck you as odd. when he spoke to you, his voice carried the weight of condescension or irritation–never the champagne bubbles of anxiety. it was obvious he was trying to disguise it, but you knew him too well for it to work. “can we talk?”

you responded with a disinterested hum, throwing the last rock into the water before turning to face him. you expected him to say something stupid, the sole purpose of him catching you there alone to bother you until you went back to your own house.

what you were not expecting, however, was for him to confess his feelings–feelings for you. you could hear your ears ringing when he asked if you would go with him to midsummers, brain sparking up with disbelief and agitation at the sound of the words leaving his mouth.

there were no second thoughts when he was met with firm rejection.

you weren’t sure why it caught him by surprise considering he’d been treating you like shit for three years, but he acted as if you shot him at point blank. though you never told anyone, you had a crush on him at one point as well. it began to feel more like hopeless pining after he began to treat you like an incessant fruit fly, which is why you got over it–for the most part, at least.

that’s when the mistreatment from him became a feud on both ends. you felt justified in your feelings towards him, and rafe having the audacity to be mad at you for turning him down only fueled the fire.

the oldest cameron sibling had his own issues, ones that made him quick to anger towards everything and everyone for no reason, especially you.

“you think you’re funny, huh?” the blonde looks displeased by his friends’ reactions, jaw clenching in annoyance. he could dish it, but he couldn’t take it.

“as if you know what that is.” you raised your brows at him, a smile still covering your face. you reached out a hand towards him, palm landing gently on his broad chest in a false gesture of comfort. “its okay, rafey, not everyone is made for being funny. stick to being useless, okay? you’re amazing at that!”

shoving past the blonde, you walked in the direction of the house after telling sarah you were going to sit inside for a moment to hide from the heat. the coastal carolina humidity was taking a toll on you, and rafe’s presence was only adding to the irritation.

you took your time walking around the house, the massive interior surrounding you on all sides. the sound of your shoes softly tapping against the ground was the only sound filling the air, the commotion of the party outside left behind the further you ventured. your feet carried you up the grand staircase gracefully, hips swaying with each step until you reached the top.

the mansion was not unfamiliar. you and sarah had run these halls together countless times over the years, no room left unexplored by the two of you–including rafe’s.

out of curiosity, your eyes drifted in the direction of the boy’s bedroom. the door had been left wide open for anyone to walk in, and there was an invisible force pushing you to enter. it’s been years since you’ve explored it, the last time resulting in being caught by its inhabitant. memories of you and sarah snooping around his drawers flashed through your mind, rafe coming in and cursing the two of you with colorful words you’d never heard in-person before.

this time, rafe wasn’t here to stop you. he was far too occupied outside with his friends to interrupt your impulsive decision to explore his room once more.

you shuffled towards the open door of his room, head peeking into the empty space before stepping inside. the room hadn’t changed much from the last time you saw it; it was still reminiscent of a teenage boy, just much cleaner. your feet softly padded across the floor to the window on the opposite side, staring out of the window at the crowd below.

the music was just barely audible through the thick glass, the little ants of people wandering around with cups in hand as they interacted with each other. eyes scanning the crowd, your brows furrowed together in confusion. kelce, sarah, and topper were right where you left them, but rafe was nowhere to be found the longer you searched over the attendees.

“maybe he left…” you said to yourself, shoulders raising in a weak shrugging motion.

“who?”

you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of the voice appearing in the background so suddenly, a scream bubbling in your throat before you turned around to meet it’s owner. the sight of rafe cameron standing in the doorway barely did anything to calm your nerves, his stern face and crossed arms only making you anxious.

“y’know–i could’ve sworn i told you to stay out of my room?” his blue eyes bored into yours, gaze unrelenting and intense as they awaited an answer for your presence.

“what are you doing in here?” you were tempted to pinch yourself as the question slipped from between your lips.

“this is my room,” he said pointedly. “what are you doing in here?”

you shrugged again, the nervousness that filled you moments ago dissipating the longer you faced him. the worst thing he could do is tell you to get out, there was no reason to feel anxious about his appearance. you pushed yourself off the window frame you were resting against to walk towards the door, ready to make your exit now that you’ve been caught.

“not going through your shit, if that’s what you’re worried about. i was bored–now i’m leaving.” you were at the halfway point of his room, eyes rolling nonchalantly as you brushed him off. “what are you doing?”

rafe entered the room fully, a look of mischief shining brightly from behind his eyes as your own flickered to the door that shut behind him with a soft ‘thud’. you could feel your brows pinch together ever so slightly at the sight before you met his face again.

you didn’t flinch when he began to approach you with slow, rhythmic steps. his legs were long and he could have easily made it to you in just a few but he deliberately took his time walking in your direction, each soft noise of his shoe hitting the ground spaced a second apart.

“what for? not like you have anywhere to be,” his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his shorts and his head tilted to the side in a feigned curiosity that was clearly heard through his voice. “actually–i think we need to talk…”

the blonde stopped barely a foot in front of you. he wasn’t quite invading your personal space, just pushing against the boundary lines of it. your eye twitches involuntarily, but you say nothing.

pushing the boundaries was something rafe had been doing for a while. mentally and physically. it was part of what further pulled the string of tension between you two.

maybe it’s because he’s a guy, but there wasn’t a day you could go seeing rafe without him making comments on your body or touching you without permission. your chest, your backside, your lips, your eyes–there was nothing spared from his overtly sexual thoughts. you weren’t sure if he was doing it solely to piss you off or make you uncomfortable, but being either one did nothing to discourage him.

in fact, it only served as motivation for him to continue.

it had been more times than you could count that rafe had groped you and claimed that his hand slipped–that you were overreacting. sometimes he wouldn’t even deny it; he’d blame you for wearing a too-short skirt or a top so small that ‘you had to have been wanting the attention or you wouldn’t have left the house like that.’ he had a habit of standing uncomfortably close to you, so close that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back or the hair on his arms tickling your own.

you just brushed it off as him being obnoxious, slapping away wandering hands and giving quick-witted responses to the suggestive remarks. guys his age were assholes and because of how long you’d known him, you never let it bother you too much. or at least, you refused to let him know that it bothered you.

“i don’t think so, rafe.“ you eyed him suspiciously. “what could we possibly have to talk about?” your arms raised to fold across your chest, fingertips cold from the air-conditioning as they rested against your bare skin.

if it weren’t so hot and sticky outside you would have worn pants, but the frilly, pink skirt adorning your bottom half was far too tempting to pass up in this weather. you could feel the goosebumps rising over your entire body from the coolness of the house.

rafe just stared for a moment. you could see the synapses firing behind the blue of his irises, and the sight unsettled you. the feeling of his eyes raking over your frame did nothing to shake the discomfort either.

“your attention-seeking behavior. your disrespectful attitude.” his gaze flittered back up to meet yours and you could make out the ghost of a smirk wash over his features. “it's becoming a problem, don’t ya’ think?”

“what?” that was not on the list of things you were expecting him to say. you couldn’t help the amused laugh that escaped your lips in a breath. “what the fuck are you talking about right now?”

“what am i talking about?” his dark blonde brows come together in an expression of concern–one you were sure he was faking.

rafe’s tanned arm reached out towards you, long fingers grabbing a braid from your head and twirling the end around the digits. not abnormal behavior, but you still squinted at him anyway.

“you must be the stupid one if you don’t know what i’m talking about.”

a scoff left your mouth and your hand lifted to smack his away from your hair. your eyes nearly strained out of their sockets from the amount of restraint it took not to roll them, lids blinking away the urge that fought against them.

“bye, rafe.” your path was blocked when you tried to move around him, the tall man following your step before you could even finish making it. “move!”

he caught the hand raised to push him out of the way with ease, the strength in his grip restrained but still felt as it surrounded your wrist. every attempt to take it back into your possession failed, your opponent unrelenting.

startled, a gasp left your mouth when you were pulled forward roughly, rafe’s body pressed tightly against yours as he brought his free hand to rest on your lower back. the ghost on his face was now living, a grin widespread over his lips that showed off the whites of his teeth as he stared down at you.

“stop touching me, you’re being a creep.” you didn’t raise your voice at him, but you were firm in your demand.

“oh, please,” he rolled his eyes at you, as if you were the one acting out of line. “i think you want me to touch you.”

the hand that rested on your back fell even lower, the entirety of his hand capturing your ass in its grasp. you inhale sharply, the roughness of his fingers squeezing down causing you to jerk forward in an attempt to escape. you were met with rafe’s warm chest trapping you between him and the hand gripping your backside through the fabric of the skirt keeping it covered.

“rafe!” you said loudly. “what the fuck is your problem?”

it’s not like he hadn’t touched you there before; he’d done it plenty. but those were only light brushes in passing or pinching you when you weren’t paying attention. things that he could pretend never happened, things that you could brush off as him being annoying.

this was not that.

“you walk around town in these itty, bitty skirts,” rafe’s smile was gone now, the mischief behind his eyes remained but it was mixed with something else–something you didn’t feel too keen about. “like you own the place–walking around my house like it’s yours. always acting like you’re better than everyone. like–like you’re above all of us. do you think you’re better than everyone, y/n?”

you shook your head at him, doing the best job you could muster at remaining calm despite the alarm bells ringing in your head. the free hand you were using to push his hand away from your ass was useless; he wasn’t budging. however, even with the little voice in the back of your mind telling you not to, you couldn’t help but to give a smart-assed reply.

“i don’t think i’m above everyone, rafe,” the corner of your lips twitched as you fought back the smile that wanted to appear. “just you.”

he chuckled at that, but not because he found it funny. it was obvious by the way his face darkened, which is what queued you into thinking that you should’ve just kept your mouth shut.

relief filled you when he released the clothed flesh of your behind from his vices, but only momentarily. your feet stumbled over each other clumsily as rafe walked forward with purpose, forcing you backwards until your the crease of your knees hit the bed. you remained standing, but if he were to push you again you’d certainly lose your balance.

the oldest cameron sibling was much…larger than you remembered. you saw him practically every day, but you couldn’t recall his biceps ever being this big as your hands held onto them to stabilize yourself. you’ve never felt intimidated when standing near him, but as you craned your neck upward, all you could feel was the fear bubbling in your stomach. faced with his towering height, he could easily overpower you if that’s what he wanted to do–and you had a feeling he did.

a chill ran down your spine.

“you come over here every day wearing practically nothing, swinging that pretty ass in my face like a fucking tease, and then treat me like you don’t know who you’re talking to.” he shakes his head in faux-disappointment, the sound of his tongue tutting against his teeth filling your ears. “i told you to stop doing it, but you refuse. if you weren’t begging for attention, you wouldn’t act like that.”

“are you being serious right now?” you were in complete disbelief. the fear in your stomach remained, but a pang of vexation was thrown into the mix. “the last thing i want is your attention, rafe. i already turned you down once–stop being weird about it. just ‘cause you can’t keep your dick in your pants doesn’t make me the problem.”

the tall blond’s eye twitched, lips raising like hackles as he all but snarled at you.

both of his hands dropped suddenly, giving you zero time to react as he gripped the bottom of your skirt in his hands and yanked it upwards. a sound of surprise rolled out of your mouth and rafe took advantage of your shock to spin you around and push you face down onto the bed. your body barely bounced once before rafe was seated on the mattress next to you, strong arms reaching over to grab your legs and throw them over his lap haphazardly as he pinned your arms behind your back.

you felt him lean his upper body against you and apply force, preventing you from lifting yourself up off the bed and leaving you completely at his mercy.

“rafe!” you scolded as he hiked up your skirt even higher and exposed you further. his position under you left you unable to lie flat, back arched uncomfortably with your pelvis resting on his muscled thighs. panic was beginning to fill you. “rafe, stop! what are you doing?”

he doesn’t respond, a bump silence filling the tense air. you could feel the heat of his scrutinizing gaze, unable to control your squirming as the warmth of his hand palmed at your barely covered skin. he massaged at the soft flesh, squeezing it between his fingers like he was being entertained by putty.

“you look so pretty in pink.”

a yelp escaped your lips when he brought his hand down against your ass with a resounding smack. he repeated the action on the other side with the same amount of force before half-assing an attempt at massaging away the sting. you hissed from the pain, his rough groping doing nothing to ease the feeling.

he hums to himself, hand pulling away to deliver another blow. you cursed at him, leg kicking up out of anger but able to do any real damage.

“y’know,” rafe says and you couldn’t help but huff in anger. “you brought this on yourself. we wouldn’t have to do this if you were just a nice girl.” you could hear the disappointment dripping from his voice and it enraged you.

“maybe i’m not nice to you because you’re a fucking dick.” he smacked you again. “fuck! stop, rafe!”

“and you’re a loud-mouthed bitch who needs to learn that actions have consequences.”

if you thought he wasn’t holding back before, you were proven wrong.

he spared you no second to recover from the barrage of smacks that he bestowed upon you. each time his hand raised, it reconnected just as mercilessly as it did before. all you could hear was the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the bedroom, mind completely encompassed by the fiery heat produced by his palm against your ass.

you wanted to scream out, cry for help from anyone that happened to be wandering the halls of the old manor. you didn’t though. not because you couldn’t, but because you were scared. scared that if someone did come to help, they would see you bent over rafe’s lap like a misbehaving child. scared that the someone who came to your rescue would be sarah–or ward.

the humiliation would kill you.

instead, you settled on continuing with your demands to stop. you swore at him, threatened him, kicked at him as hard as you could. you tried everything to get him to let up, but he refused. the sound of your voice was nearly drowned out by the deafening sound of your backside being brutalized.

you were sure if someone were to walk past, it could be heard on the other side.

“i’m going to fucking kill you, rafe!” you gritted out through teeth clenched so tight that you could pop a blood vessel. “you’re disgusting!”

the blue-eyed man tutted from above you, abruptly pausing his assault. unexpectedly he pushed your legs off his lap and rose to his feet, leaving you in a heap on the bed. you almost sung out a praise to whatever angel had been keeping an eye on you, finally taking pity on your bruised behind. it felt like you were on fire; face hot, skin sticky with the sweat from putting up a fight, and the site of rafe’s abuse burning from the phantom of his hand.

your eyes snapped in rafe’s direction, pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of metal. he’d taken off his expensive leather belt when he stood up, the accessory folded in half between his hands as his hardened, amused eyes stared down at you. your eyes flitted between his face and the belt in his hand nervously, throat bobbing as you swallowed dryly.

he predicted your movement before you could even make it, moving so fast that you thought he was transported to you. rafe caught your legs as you attempted to crawl away and pulled you back over the edge. your feet landed on the floor but your top half remained pinned to the mattress, a strong hand keeping you in place as you struggled against it.

“change of plans,” he whispered against your ear. you were sure he felt you shiver against his hold from the breath on your skin. “i tried being gentle–well, as gentle as i can be with you. clearly, that’s not teaching you anything. “

“haven’t you heard? corporal punishment is outdated and ineffective.” it was in your nature to argue with him, even when he had you pinned beneath him like a wolf would a rabbit. “i’m not learning anything except for how much of a pervert you really are–not that i didn't already know.”

rafe chuckled at this, very darkly. he pulled away from your ear and positioned himself behind you, the heat of his presence radiating in a way that was almost suffocating. the silence was so loud that you could barely hear the sound of the party outside, blood rushing past your ears thunderously.

you braced yourself, unsure of what his next move would be. however, he made no moves. the blond just stood there behind you ominously, keeping your hands pinned to your back as he watched you noiselessly. the temptation to look behind you was overwhelming, and it was then when he decided to act.

the belt made fierce contact with your sensitive skin the moment your head twitched, the stillness between you no longer.

it took all of your strength to contain the scream that itched to leave your throat, a pained groan coming out from your gritted teeth. this was worse than his bare hand by miles, the fury of the leather leaving you thrashing with a single lick.

“i think,” he landed another strike to your ass after he spoke. “corporal punishment is very effective. it just takes a little…more to break through girls like you. it’s okay, though, you’ll learn.”

the belt comes down again and you couldn’t hold back the scream this time.

he gave no time for you to recover, the viciousness of each swat intensifying each time it landed. it was loud, much louder than his hands and in your foggy mind you worried endlessly about what would happen if someone else were to hear.

you don’t move when he lets go of your wrists, body paralyzed from pain and fear. rafe takes hold of your barely there underwear and yanks them down, the fabric pooling around your ankles leaving you fully exposed and hot with embarrassment. he takes no time to look between your legs and quickly returns to delivering your punishment.

the comforter beneath you fell victim to the deathly grip of your now free hands, talon-like fingers digging into the fabric as you used it to brace yourself. tears ran down your face uncontrollably and every muscle in your body was tense from the torment.

“rafe, please!” you cried out, hardly able to form a complete sentence. “ow! stop, stop! i’m sorry!”

you weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, but you couldn’t take the torture for much longer. you’d fix your mouth to say whatever it takes to get him off of you.

“how many times have i told you to stop dressing like a slut? huh?” you responded with a pained screech. he paired the question with another lashing, your cries for mercy doing nothing to garner any of his sympathy. “and yet, you still do what you please. so i’m going to do what ever the fuck pleases me.”

it felt like you’d been here for an eternity, but it’d probably been maybe twenty minutes. twenty minutes since you walked into his room like a dumbass instead of going to sarah’s like you planned on doing in the first place. twenty minutes wasn’t a long time, and nobody would come looking for you any time soon.

a sob racked through your body at that. your hands reached back to grab at his weapon of choice in a desperate effort to stop the battery, and in response rafe put them right back where they were against your spine.

“you want everyone to see your ass so badly,” the leather slashed through the air and landed on you with a crack. “so i’m gonna give you something to show ‘em.”

you had been reduced to a pile of tears and tender flesh. rafe’s hands holding you down against the bed were hardly necessary; the both of you knew that you didn’t have the energy to fight back anymore. all you could do was scream, cry, and beg for him to end the attack against your poor ass. the welts on your flesh were beginning to form, you could feel it.

“stop crying.” he says from above you. you could practically hear the sound of his eyes rolling, but he paused the lashings anyways. “begging me to stop but–” he cuts himself off, his silence falling loudly on your ears.

the sound of the belt falling to the floor as he threw it into a random corner didn’t even register to you, the metal buckle thumping against the wall. all you could focus on was the hand between your quivering legs, and the throbbing sensation that you hadn’t noticed before. rafe’s fingers gliding against the wetness of your core made you flinch from being unprepared for his touch.

“you're leaking all over yourself…” shame washed over you in a tsunami-like wave, the feeling amplified by the wet sounds coming from where rafe’s hand meets the junction of your thighs. “i don’t think you want me to stop.”

“no!” you shouted. rafe let out a breathy chuckle as he watched you shake your head desperately against the mattress. “no more! please, i don’t want it...”

he hummed in response, fingers still toying with your dripping heat. they were just barely brushing over your clit, the bud swollen with need and twitching with every ghost-like touch. if you could scream, you would, but all you had the energy to do was whimper pathetically as he held you in place.

“hm, alright.” rafe’s agreeance made you release a shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding. “i know what you do want, though.”

you felt his thick fingers grazing your entrance; just the pads of them. he was being a tease, letting you soak in the humiliation of being so adamant on him leaving you alone but having your body betray you.

he leaned down once again, the softness of his lips tickling the shell of your ear. you swallowed dryly as you struggled to focus on anything other than his torturous fingers sitting idly between your puffy lips.

“you want me to fuck this little hole open with my fingers,” he hummed again, the vibration of it sending a shockwave through your body. “wanna drool all over my hand with that messy cunt.”

you shook your head, squirming against his hold once again in an attempt to escape his curious fingers.

“no?” he asked and you shook your head again. “i don’t believe that.”

he only removed his hand from your long enough to flip you onto your back, barely exerting any strength to do so. instead of holding you down by your wrists, you were planted against the mattress by your neck with a firm hand. your own fingers moved to wrap around his arm while his returned to the heat building between your legs.

you gasped at the feeling of a long, thick digit pushing against the tight resistance as it coaxed you open enough to slip inside. with him between your legs you couldn’t close them–all you could do was lie there pathetically as he did what he wanted.

“aw, you feel that?” he cooed at you, eyes flickering up at your face briefly before dropping back to his hand. “it slipped right in…i think you can take two, don’t you?”

a whine slipped out at the feeling of a second finger slipping past the barrier of your hole to join the first one. his fingers were way bigger than yours, fitting inside of you more snugly than you were used to. he pulled them out at a snail’s pace, purposefully dragging against your spasming walls before pushing them right back in.

“yeah, you take it real good.” he grinned smugly, clearly enjoying the juxtaposition of the pained look on your face and the way you desperately latched onto his two fingers. “don’t want it, but your pussy’s sucking me in…why’s that?”

you couldn’t answer–not when you were panting like a bitch in heat, trying and failing at catching your breath as rafe stole it away from you. your arousal leaked out over his fingers and there was nothing you could do to stop it. his fingers felt too good, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

he continued with the bare minimum for what felt like forever, probably waiting on you to give in and beg him to fuck you. unfortunately for him, you would never do that. your will was much too strong to do something as desperate as that, and you were basking in enough humiliation as is; you’d never give up the single sliver of pride you had left.

it was rafe who broke first. he said nothing as the speed of his fingers increased, eyes focused on every scrunch of your nose and the whines that forced their way past your bitten lips. the heel of his hand kept making contact with your clit and it made you want to start crying again.

“such a pretty girl,” his eyes raked over your clothed body in satisfaction. something about you having to walk around in the same clothes that he turned you out in got him off, while it made you think about throwing them into a bonfire or burying them in the deepest part of your closet. “getting so wet and needy from me welting up her ass. i think you’re the pervert here, not me.”

“uh-uhn.” you protested the accusation immediately, reaching down the push rafe’s hand away weakly. he looked amused.

“you’re not?” the blonde moved back to stare at your cunt grooling all over his hand, fingers fucking the mess back inside over and over. “why are you so wet then?”

you didn’t have an answer to that. his fingers pulled out of you completely, using the wetness as more lubrication to spread over your swollen clit. the bucket of sparks in your stomach had long turned into a bubbling cauldron, and the attention to the needy button did nothing but make it burn hotter.

his fingers dipped back inside with much ease this time and you nearly died from the embarrassment. your brain was foggy yet defiant, but your body worked against you by welcoming everything rafe had to offer.

“no normal girl would get wet from shit like that. screaming and crying, beggin’ me to stop–but look,” rafe shook his head at you, eyes hot as he watched your frame twitch beneath his hands. “you’re squeezing down on my fingers like you want ‘em in there forever.“

he was right. you were screaming, you were crying, you were begging him to stop. now you’re letting him spread you open and getting wet when you should be screaming for him to get off of you.

what was wrong with you?

you had no time to think about that, not when he added a third finger without warning. a cry filled the air–yours–from the stretch. you were so full. he sped up again, too, treating you with little compassion as he watched ruined your sopping pussy with the thick appendages.

“so pathetic to be this wet for me,” he shook his head at you, lips pulled together in a pout. “you know it too. you should be ashamed.”

you were.

“you’re not even gonna stop me, look at your legs shaking.” he pointed out the way you couldn’t keep still.

he was right; you weren’t gonna stop him. you couldn’t.

the veins in his arms strained with each pump of his fingers, biceps bulging against the tight sleeves of his shirt. you could feel your juices dripping down your ass, your other hole fluttering in sync with the one being stuffed with three fingers. every part of your body was tingling and desperate to be touched, and you were rapidly losing control of yourself the closer rafe brought you to the edge.

he noticed it, too. the way you couldn’t stop clamping down around him, how you unconsciously ground into his palm, the dazed look in your eyes and the desperation in your voice as you lost the ability to hold back.

“look at you,” he said. his eyes were filled with lust, dark and glossed over as he observed your behavior. “ready to cum after putting up all that fight. dressed up in this tiny, little skirt; you were practically asking for this. so disgusting.”

your breath was uneven and you felt like you were going to pass out, mind dizzy and drunk with the forced pleasure. he showed no signs of letting up, digging you out with a fervor that you’d never experienced. the sound of your whining became higher pitched, tears pouring from your eyes as you tip-toed the cliff ahead of you.

“you’re about to cum, huh?” you nodded your head at him, eyes wide and wet with the lubrication. “yeah? you wanna cum?”

you screamed, but not for the reason you wanted to.

“no.” rafe pulled his fingers away right before you fell off the edge, leaving your hips bucking against the air as you were denied the release he was forcing upon you in the first place. “you’re not gonna cum unless i tell you to.”

you would have rolled your eyes and protested, but the feeling of his hand coming down against your bare pussy made you yelp. your clit jumped and your nipples were begging to be released from the constraints of your shirt, the pain giving you a kind of pleasure that you weren’t equipped to handle. he did it again, and again. he did it until you were fighting to push him away and close your legs.

“aw, does that hurt?” he pouted at you when you whimpered out some semblance of a ‘yes,’ which was rewarded with another slap. “good.”

it was agonizing; how deliciously painful it was. it was so much–too much. you were becoming dumb, all brain function replaced with the pulsing of your abused cunt. he continued to slap your clit, entranced by the way it twitched and your hole clenched around nothing.

“you want me to stop?” you couldn’t answer; you were too stunned to form a coherent sentence and it made you feel like an idiot. rafe took pleasure in that. “stupid girl, you can’t even say anything. so fucked out and easy for me.”

you were tempted to push him away and get yourself off, but even through your foggy brain you knew he’d never let you get the chance.

“need to taste this pussy…” he mumbled to himself, not caring if you heard or not.

he dropped to his knees with eyes still focused on you as he blew against your exposed clit, both thumbs spreading your lips open. he wasn’t worried about you trying to escape anymore; not really. it was clear you were too dazed to do much of anything but pant like a dog and take his abuse.

he finally gave you his tongue after waiting for you to whine for it, the wet muscle flattening against the whole of your sensitive core. the texture of the appendage on your clit had you writhing, legs trapped in his hold and prevented from clamping down around his head.

you trembled as he lapped up your wetness, grinding against his face as he buried himself deep into your wetness. he was like a man starved, licking up your arousal as it spilled out of you in an endless fountain. the plush pillows of his lips encapsulated your clit, sucking on it roughly as he brought his fingers back down to fuck you open.

your head fell back from the intensity, cries tumbling out of your mouth clumsily as he laved against your rosy bud.

everything was so wet.

“don’t you dare fucking cum.” rafe growled, pulling away from your pussy. his fingers kept going, but he kept his eyes on you now. it was impossible to ignore the way you pulsed around him. “i’m not gonna stop, so you better hold it.”

a broken wail left you and you wanted to curl into a ball. this was just as much of a punishment as being beaten with the belt in the corner, you were now discovering.

“please…” the rope in your stomach was being sawed in half by the second and you weren’t going to last much longer. “i can’t…”

he rose to his full height, staring down at your messy for; thighs covered in sticky precum with your skirt crumpled up at your waist. your skin was hot to the touch and covered in a thin layer of sweat, face wet with tears stains and eyes filled with lust fueled desperation. his fingers worked purposefully in the deepest parts of your pussy that you’d never been able to explore yourself.

“taking me so fuckin’ deep, princess.” he teased you with his words, his voice only adding difficulty to holding back from cumming all over his merciless fingers.

“rafe…” you couldn’t tell him off; not when you were getting so close, so fast.

“‘rafe…’” he mocked the pleading tone in your voice. ocean blue eyes flickered up towards your own, dark with arousal as he watched you squirm. “you sound so pathetic.”

you could feel your thighs tensing as you tried your best to hold back. you didn’t know what he would do if you came without permission, but it was getting hard to care. his fingers were hitting repeatedly against a spot that had you seeing white and holding your breath.

rafe let you stay like that for a while, desperately hanging on by a thread as he watched.

“okay,“ he said, head tilted to the side. “you can cum–but i’m not gonna give it to you.”

“rafe!” you yelped. he pulled his fingers out and delivered a final smack to your already abused clit, smirking at your reaction.

reaching up towards your face, rafe squished your cheeks together until your mouth was forced open. you audibly protested when he brought his wet fingers to your lips, the smell of your arousal invading all of your senses. your noises of defiance were ignored as he shoved the digits into your mouth. he coated your tongue with the wetness covering his fingers, fucking your mouth in the same way he used your other hole.

you couldn’t stop the saliva that fell from your mouth; it leaked down the sides of your face uncomfortably and you wanted to wipe it away.

“you can go home later, and rub that dirty little cunt to the memory of this.” you stared up at him wide-eyed, mouth stuffed and clit pulsating at the wanton actions being performed on you. “every time you pick out a skirt to wear, you’re gonna sit on that welted up ass and you’re gonna think about how wet you got from my belt tearing you up.”

he watched you shift uncomfortably on your bare, bruised behind, but showed you no pity.

the sting of it brought you back to reality, the weight of what just occurred finally coming to your clearer mind. rafe’s hand gripped your jaw and tilted it upwards to bring your attention back to him. the fear that you felt earlier bubbled back up.

your mouth was relieved from the violating digits grazing the back of your throat. wet fingers slapped against your cheek twice, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to make you wince from the sting.

“still think you’re above me?” rafe asked, face lowering to just mere inches away from yours. you shook your head the best you could, jaw still under the steel grip of his hand. “you–you should be thanking me, really…i’m older than you, remember? your job is to respect your elders, and my job is to correct you.”

you say nothing; not that you could anyway. he lowered his hand, pulling it away from your jaw and resting it on the circumference of your exposed neck. the tall man hummed at you, head tilting to the side like a puppy as he observed your disheveled form beneath him.

“i did it so that nobody else has to, y/n. jus’ looking out for you like i’m supposed to–even though you don’t deserve it.“ you blinked at him, prompting the fingers lying limply at your neck to squeeze as a warning. “say ‘thank you, rafe.’ you can do that right? ‘thank you for looking out for stupid little girls like me.’”

you gulped away the part of you that wanted to spit out a curse at rafe, resistance vibrating deep in your bones. this had to be more humiliating than being spread out over his fingers, you thought.

“thank you, rafe.” the voice that came out sounded pained, and rafe could tell. he tutted at you, clearly dissatisfied.

“i don’t think you mean that…do you want the belt on your pussy this time?” his eyebrow quirked up at you, amused clear in his eyes as he watched your own widen in panic.

“no! no, i really mean it!”

his free hand landed between your legs again as it delivered the stinging punishment of his palm once more.

“then fucking act like it.” rafe snarled at you, the heat of your center against his taunting hand. “‘thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re so good to me.’ and you better fucking mean it.”

“thank you for looking out for me, rafe. you’re s’good to me!” you cried out weakly. rafe continued to slap at your achy clit with his flattened fingers, wordlessly telling you he wasn’t satisfied with your response. “i’m stupid ‘nd i don’t deserve–ah! i don’t deserve it. i’ll be nice, i promise!”

happy enough with your gratitude, he relented. he pulled his hand away from your quivering lower lips and stepped back, allowing your legs to fall shut and guard your crying, battered cunt from the cool air blowing against it from the ac.

“you’re welcome.”

you watch from your spot on the bed as rafe picks up your discarded underwear from the floor. he shoves the item in his pocket, leaving you bare with nothing to protect yourself. standing from your position on the mattress, your legs wobbled like a young doe before straightening themselves to their full length.

you’d never felt so violated, so defeated. what made it even worse was the way your body still tingled with need. the feeling was deep inside you, walls clamping down on the phantom of rafe’s manly fingers. he was right, and it brought a cloud of shame that rained down on you. the first thing you’d do when you got home is stuff yourself with your own and pretend they were his. every time you sat down and felt the sting of his punishment, you knew you’d leak just like you were right now.

how could you call him a creep, a pervert? how could you call him disgusting when you were the one making a mess all over him after being held down and beaten?

feelings of guilt weighed heavy on your chest. you could pretend that none of this ever happened, but rafe would never let you forget; there’s no way he’d ever let it go.

shaking away the thoughts plaguing your mind, you pulled yourself together the best you could. a hiss sounded out through the room as you pulled the skirt down from around your waist.

the last thing you wanted to know was how bad your ass and thighs looked, the raised skin evidence enough as it painfully rubbed against the fabric of your skirt. rafe opened the door of his bedroom in a swift motion to reveal an empty hallway, eyes staring pointedly at you. the sound of your swift feet echoed off the floor, legs carrying you the fastest that they possibly could without tripping over each other.

before you made it past the threshold, rafe snatched your arm up into his grip. he leaned down to meet you at eye level, closely examining the way your breathing hitched.

“and stay the fuck out of my room."

#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx1 #obx2 #drew starkey #rafe imagine #obx fic #outer banks x reader #obx3 #cleoluvrr fics

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peachesofteal · 2 months

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Dad!John Price/female reader This has been living in my head

“Beautiful out, isn’t it?”

The old woman on the docks hitches her shoulder bag higher, eyes fixed on nothing in the distance. John hums an agreement, low pitch slow to rise from his chest. It’s not a dismissal, but not conversation. Non-committal. About as much as you’ll get from him, on a day like today.

He keeps his focus on the expanse of the bay. A metamorphic magma layered coastal cradle holding entire populations of people, and animals, those that live on land… and at sea.

He’s waiting for a fleck of dust on the horizon, a small speck that will slowly turn into ferry, one that carries some passengers, a few packages, bundles of mail by the heap. It is beautiful today; he doesn’t disagree. But it’s not because of the weather. It’s because the ferry is carrying more than just a few passengers home. It’s carrying his worst nightmare. The final nail in a coffin. His own personal hell.

And…

His brightest light. His favorite part of everyday. His everything. The reason his heart still beats.

Both on the same boat.

The sun shines through the tips of the trees, bright on his face, casting an amber yellow glow over the harbor, and he basks in it, even with the brittle cold.

The warmth of the light is foreign this time year, a time year when creeks all run underneath a quickly thickening layer of ice, morning frost lingers beneath cloud cover, and bears sleep.

The town will be full of life today. The bar at the top of the hill, the only one in town, will be burning the midnight oil, everyone appearing at some point throughout the night, eager to have one last rousing round with neighbors and friends before the true cold of winter sets in.

Of course, they don’t hate the cold. They wouldn’t live here if they did.

Life is different in the winter. Year round. Life here revolves more around the weather and the seasons than anywhere else he’s ever been, or lived, and everything from the kelp to the whales, the deer and sea lions, the people, and the wolves, depend on the promise of perpetual change.

The tide washes through little pebbles of ancient volcanic rock like a lullaby, one so familiar he swears he can hear it when he’s working, when he’s worlds away in his mind. It’s peaceful, full of memories, nostalgia beating in his blood for something long gone, long past.

His heart aches, for a moment. Long enough that his brow furrows, and his hands find his pocket, anxiously feeling for the chain.

The ferry shatters his memories, blaring across the beach, and the old woman gives him a smile.

“Early today.” This time, John does respond.

“Good.”

“You must be John.” She offers her hand, face half hidden beneath a large hood and knit muff, black pants and coat nearly matching his.

He hesitates, fingers flexing, and she doesn’t miss a beat, moving on to step around him, speaking briefly to the ferry captain, an old grizzled man who stared at John the entire trip, blatant curiosity wrinkling his frown lines.

The wind cuts through his jacket, snaking beneath his layers, forcing his muscles tense.

Bloody freezing. He's been cold, plenty, but this bitterness has bite.

She squints and jerks her head towards the end of the dock, sunlight glittering in her eyes. They’re beautiful, a rich shade of coffee and hazel, golden spotted and drusy, a cluster of crystals inside dark pupils. They’re a color he could drown in. The kind of eyes he could see in his dreams for the rest of his life.

The kind of eyes capable of disarming him, before he's even drawn a weapon.

“C’mon. Truck’s got heat.”

“Mari says you’ve never been a Ranger before.” She tries to make casual conversation with him, patting the steering wheel as the truck sputters to life. Gears grind, they churn, and she smiles, glancing at the road before putting it in gear. It’s old, rusted in a quaint way, the kind that makes him think of old industrial parks and aging tanks, a rugged red chipped away above the passenger wheel well, rubbed raw by salt air.

“I have… relative experience.” He’s careful with his words, hesitant about over divulging, and she shrugs.

“With people? Or wildlife?” He points his face out the window. With people, sure. With bears and wolves and whatever else lurks in these woods, less so.

The truck climbs a windy road, pushing up above the cove, narrow pitted pavement flanked by forest so black he can hardly see a meter inside the tree line. The shadow that lingers inside the tree line is primordial, alive, and he blinks when he thinks he sees something moving, deep in the dark. Douglas fir, silver fir, white pine flash by, occasional road signs with pictures of animals and speed limits dotting the way. “Logging is big industry out here. Forestry feeds a lot of families in this area, but it can be a point of contention.” She motions past him to another cove, one tucked just around the bend from where the ferry came in, its surface covered in shaved logs, all nearly uniform in size, floating together in rows upon rows, waiting for their next voyage.

“That what you do? Er… logging?” Her hands are rough, skin cracked, nails trimmed short, and the coat is utility. Built for labor. For weather. It’s a natural conclusion.

“No. I run the nature center in the late spring and summer. No tourism in fall or winter though, so I find other things to do. Work for the park. Tag trees. Winter trail maintenance. Wildlife management.” The truck rattles into a left turn, and she waves at someone in an oncoming car. “Guess I kinda work for you now.” Her chuckle is light, sweet, and his cheeks feel warm. “What brought you all the way up here?”

Bloody hell.

“Needed a change of pace.”

“Long way to come for a change.” She muses, and he agrees. It is very, very far. Three planes, two ferries, this truck. Hours of travel, temperature dropping in ten degree increments every time he stepped outside. He doesn’t know how to answer that, how to tell her, what he’s doing here, how to say he had to leave things behind.

The island changes, geology shifting, granite turning to mud and grass, darkness fading as the truck putters into its final descent.

He instinctively taps the tags in his pocket, a nervous tic that’s develops over the last few months since he took them off for the last time and clears his throat.

“Yes. It is.”

The ferry sidles up the wooden dock, rocking in the waves, captain giving the small, older woman next to him a friendly wave. At his side, a woman stands, straight backed and proud, eyes sharp against the setting sun.

Is that…

You catch his gaze, glancing at the Ranger badge on his coat, and then nodding, hand lifting in acknowledgement.

His breath freezes in his chest. You’re stunning. Beautiful, like the land, like the strait, and for a second, he forgets himself.

Igneous rock hardens in his stomach, in his heart.

He's lost at sea. Lost in the swell. An eddy line of devastation sweeps him out, past the lighthouse on the rocks, past the pod of resident orcas, past the point of no return.

He's drowning.

Only to be brought back by one of his favorite sounds in the entire world.

“Dad!”

#John price x reader #peaches writes #John price #captain john price #captain john price x reader #price x reader

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ad15124 · 8 months

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I'm sorry but no Pixar movie will ever live up to the best one. a hot shot entirely arrogant and egotistical yet ultimately lonely young guy lands up in the middle of a small town before a big race, and having destroyed it's road by accident is now forced to rebuild it? slaps. he meets a beautiful woman who won't take any of his bullshit? wonderful. he realises the old grandpa is a washed up hero that people turned their back on after he came back from an injury, now residing amongst people who love and care for him and he thinks the guy will ruin the town he lives in? dear god I am in love. the young-un meets someone of a sort he once looked down on and they have fun together, and he finally finds a best friend? I will cry. the hotshot falls in love with the town, the town that has long since left the public eye, and the grandpa shows him how self-centred he's been his entire life? please I'm crumbling. the rockstar helps everyone in town, makes them all feel loved and heard and finally feels at home before the paparazzi find him and drag him to his competition, the door closing on his found family just as he's connected with them, all apparently because the grandpa gave them a call? I'm furious! him losing focus at the competition only to hear the grandpa in his headset and go “yeah yeah it's just - wait WHAT” and find that they all came to watch and the grandpa is his coach now all because the best friend didn't get to say goodbye? god I'm squealing with joy! the old dude in his last race ends up in an accident and this boy stops in his tracks, remembers how his coach was disgraced the same way and helps push him to the finish line? I am sobbing. “there's more to racing than just winning” same line as the start, but where earlier it was to impress the camera, this time it's from the bottom of the heart. banging my fists on the table “you got a lot of stuff kid” the grandpa says to the boy, pride, forgiveness and acceptance mingle as I begin to wail. the new racing headquarters will be built in the town, it's back on the map. I am hopping up and down out of sheer jubilation. oh and they're all cars btw. what more do you want?

#aalutalks #original cars #cars #pixar #cars movie #cars 2006 #cars pixar #pixar cars

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mysunshinetemptress · 1 month

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Coal

Leah Williamson x singer!reader

Warnings: TW suicide, past abuse, child abuse, alcohol abuse, funeral. If I missed anything let me know. Also thank you to @pers1st for first of all listening to my idea and telling me to write it when I had my doubts about it and secondly for reading over it and helping me, I hope it doesn’t disappoint

You knew the minute he didn’t answer the phone and the unnerving feeling of dread filled your chest that this was it, that you were the last man standing from a life you thought you had both out run, out lived but this, what your brother had just done showed that no matter where you went, how fast you ran you couldn’t leave the sick and twisted past you both had lived through it was a heavy bag you would be forced to carry for the rest of your life.

You and your brother Luca had been born twins in a quite little, middle of nowhere town in New England to a mother who would end up leaving you both in the middle of the night with a heavily abusive father, who would never be charged for the unthinkable things he had inflicted on both you and your brother as he was to high in the police force in your stupid little town, best friends with the Chief had some perks it seemed.

You and your brother had grown up constantly relying on one another to get through the hard terrifying nights, where all you both could wish for was for someone to whisk you both away from it all but this is the real world and the only people who could save you from the nightmare was yourselves.

You had a talent that you had only discovered when you where 13 after a teacher had approached you hearing you singing in the hall, before asking if you wanted to join the choir, you began thinking an extra hour away from home wouldn’t be so bad agreeing only on the lines that Luca could come and sit in the pews as you practiced not wanting to leave him alone to face your fathers abuse alone.

As you both got older you found ways to escape through singing and music, Luca taught himself the piano and you learned guitar before teaching the instruments to each other before you both began recording videos of yourselves and posting them to YouTube while also beginning to write your own songs.

It would take till just after your 19th birthday for both you and Luca to make it out of that stupid little town in New England, both of you deciding to get as far away as possible flying to London England just as your first ever song written by you and produced by Luca blew up “Homesick.” Loving the way stories could so easily be told through country music you decide that it would be the genre you both would focus on, you writing and performing and Luca writing and producing stating he was much to bad of a singer to ever try.

Living in London was a cultural shock for you both coming from a quite town to a big bustling city sure was a change but you couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that not everyone here knew everyone and that you both got to start fresh.

Your label had rented a small two bed apartment for you both in Islington, just north of Central London where you both set up a small studio from the equipment supplied to you both and began working on an EP.

The EP was called Horizons both you and Luca had looked out on a same horizon every morning your entire childhood and hoped it would bring about change, only when you left to London did your Horizons change and so did your life finding it fitting you brought it to your label along with six songs on the EP one of which had already been released as a single.

Horizon

Track 1: Homesick

Track 2: Northern Attitude

Track 3: False Confidence

Track 4: Heavy Eyes

Track 5: Heading South

Track 6: Something in the Orange

Your label loved it approving a date that saw you and Luca able to preform at Country to Country in the O2, with your small set and unknown names your both were one of the first to perform, but feeling the rush of the crowd just after leaving the stage singing songs you both had written about parts of your childhood and leaving it behind felt magical and the crowd seemed to love it.

But that night wasn’t just the night you had both agreed that this is what you wanted to do, it was also the night you swore you found a four leaf clover. Leah had been standing in the crowd with Lydia Williams both big country music fans when she felt her breath hitch in her throat at the sight of you. You stood on stage in a simple pair of black jeans, white top with some red writing she couldn’t make out and a guitar smiling at the boy at the piano before nodding to the band and when you began singing Leah swore she had felt her heart stop from how quick it was beating.

You and Luca had made your way down to the crowd Luca nudging you saying he was going to get a drink as you nodded making your way to stand at the back keeping an eye on him as a blonde girl strutted over to you ever so confidently “Hi.” You turned taking your eyes off of Luca as you turned meeting deep blue eyes “Hi.” You smiled back “I’m Leah.” You grasped her hand shaking it your cheeks beginning to hurt from smiling at the blonde-Leah “hi I’m Y/n.” You didn’t notice that Leah seemed to forget to let go of your hand as you both began talking the English girl complementing your set as you complemented her outfit.

Luca turned back from the bar after downing yet another shot and beer looking to see where you had gone chuckling at the sight of you talking happily to a girl still holding her hand, sighing he grabbed three more beers and began walking over to you before clearing his throat and putting on a stern face “Y/n.” You unhappily tore your eyes away from Leah turning to see Luca “Luca this is Leah, Leah this is my twin brother Luca.” Leah’s shoulders seemed to relax at the confirmation he was in fact your brother and not your boyfriend “Beer.” You smiled thanking him before letting go of Leah’s hand and taking it before turning to look at him in surprise as he handed one to Leah “what can’t let your future girlfriend be left out of it can I.” You shoved him slightly as Leah choked on the beer coughing slightly as you apologised rubbing her back. Leah stood up shaking her head “well I better ask you out first then.” You laughed nodding agreeing to give her your phone number before saying goodnight and walking back behind the stage.

In the coming months yourself and Luca travelled promoting your EP both in the Uk and Europe as well as in the States refusing to step foot in New England just incase your father decided to show up, during this small tour you and Leah began talking nonstop either texting or FaceTiming and although Luca wanted to throw a pen at your head and tell you that there was an album that had to be written he couldn’t help but smile at the way your eyes lit up and your entire mood changed when the English girls name appeared on your phone.

Once the small tour was over and you had settled back into London, Leah had worked up enough nerve to officially ask you on a date. You had bid Luca goodnight telling him to not wait up as you ventured into Central London with the blue eyed girl excitement building for your date.

London was everything you ever wanted, you and Leah had been dating for a few months now and not wanting to keep secrets you had sat her down and told her everything, everything about how your mother had decided she couldn’t take it anymore and left both you and Luca stood crying on the porch step as you watched her run down the driveway aged four in the middle of the night, how your fathers abuse only got worse from that point, how as you got older you both felt so hopeless as no one would do anything as he was a police officer and best friend to the Chief of police, how he thought he could change you from being gay when he saw you walking holding another girls hand. Leah had sat eyes pooled with tears grasping your hand so tightly as you told her eyes racking your body and zoning in on every little scare she could see before pulling you into a hug “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry Angel you don’t…you didn’t deserve any of that.” You didn’t cry but simply went limp against her as you felt the weight be lifted off your shoulders now that she knew, Luca had come in a short while later and Leah had moved you off her gently before grabbing him and pulling him into a hug, you watched eyes soft as your heart swelled they way she held him just as tight apologising for his trauma too, trauma she had never inflicted but felt so sick that no one in your town would help you both to scared of the consequences.

You had called Leah your four leafed clover, she was the luckiest thing you had ever found and while your relationship grew and your introduction to both her family and teammates saw that Luca turned to alcohol more than he ever had before.

You were both working on your first album when you had noticed how bad Lucas dependency on alcohol had gotten, writing songs often turned into nights you had to put him to bed he was to drunk to continue, or he wouldn’t show for meetings with the label, or dinner with you and Leah, or Leah’s family to busy sitting in a bar in London. You had called the label after a particularly bad day at one of Leah’s games at the Emirates, where your brother spent the entire match inside at the bar since he couldn’t drink alcohol in view of the pitch, drunk and moody you bid the Williamson’s goodbye apologising for your brother and sending Leah a quick text before dragging him home. The next morning you decided enough was enough and sat him down surprised when he broke down in your arms apologising over and over again that it was the only way he could find peace from it all even for just a few hours, that music simply wasn’t enough at the moment and in a way you understood, Leah gave you the same peace alcohol gave Luca but you knew it wasn’t a healthy option so you gave him an ultimatum, rehab and therapy or no more music, no more writing no more tours nothing. Agreeing to your ultimatum you rang your label telling them that the Album was on hold till Luca was healthy again before dropping him off.

You spent the month Luca was in rehab leaning on Leah and her family’s support, you had told them about yours and Lucas past the same day you dropped him off, and for the first time you knew what it was like to be loved by a mother and father. You cried into Leah’s chest that night until you fell asleep,nothing she said or did could make you stop and she quickly realised you needed this you needed to cry so she let you holding you tight and just reminding you of where you were, with her, with her family both you and Luca were safe. Amanda came up after you had fallen asleep to check on you her own heart breaking at the sight of you, you a girl who had the worst childhood imaginable handed to her and still found away to find love and make her daughter feel so loved, you a girl who was trying desperately to hold everything together for her brother because “he needs me, I’m fine I’ve got Leah but he, Luca needs me to be strong so strong is what I am.” Amanda placed her hand on your head “she’ll be ok Bubs, they both will, we got them.”

Luca had been allowed a visit half way through his rehab, the Williamson’s had all asked if they could come but his sponsor Danny had said it may be to overwhelming and asked for it to just be you, that didn’t stop them from waiting in the car park as you went in to visit him. He was different, brighter, happier and you almost cried at the sight for the first time ever he looked to be enjoying life not just trying to get by. You had ran straight for him sighing as you picked you up into a bear hug squeezing tight “Orlov.” You sighed relaxing into his arms at the use of your nickname.

Orlov a diamond, a cursed diamond and any time you tried to ask him why he had chosen it for you all those years ago he gave you one of two reason “Orlov, a cursed diamond that still shines through it all.” Or “Orlov, because pressure makes diamonds, and I just like the name of that one.” You laughed at the second slightly poetic but still funny just like him.

You had told him how supportive the Williamson’s had been for the both of you, how they were currently sat in the parking lot waiting for an update on him when he grabbed your hand “I’m glad you found people like them, to look after you.” You squeezed his hand “us, look after us they love you just as much.” Lucas didn’t want to believe you but you knew he did deep down, he knew it wasn’t just you that loved him anymore. You proceeded to tell him about you current life as a wag as well about the many songs you had been writing, some of them about your past, but for the first time ever you had also written about love and being in love with Leah. Lucas had told you he had also returned to writing and had a few stacked up ready to go when he was finished and for the first time he seemed happy about what he had written normally you had to tell him it was good, recording worthy and you couldn’t help the hope that bubbled.

15 days later Lucas got out of rehab with his therapy sessions block booked for the next while and for the first time in two months you guys began writing songs together trying to complete the album. Lucas was a changed man, he went to dinner without alcohol something you also did to support him, he attended Leah’s matches with you and actually watched and cheered instead of hiding in the bar and for the first time he seemed to be living.

Leah and her family had supported you both tirelessly and you couldn’t have asked for more, they were the family you had always wished would come and save you both as kids. Leah was around for nearly all of the album creation, Lucas teaching her piano and when he finally deemed her good enough you both agreed she could record it for the album.

Life was good, you both were happy in London writing and hanging out with friends and your found family so why had you woken up in the middle of the night with a feeling of doom looming over you as you untangled from Leah. You had gone into Lucases room to check on him something you had done since you could walk, wanting to make sure his chest would still rise and fall when your father had given you both a particularly hard beating. Only this time his bed was empty, walking into the hall you noticed all the lights were off so where could he be. You decided not to panic and not to wake Leah either instead getting your phone to call him.

As you recounted every move you both had made over the past three months it was obvious, Lucas had been getting all his ducks in a row, checking in on everyone and making sure the album was complete before leaving, but now it was done and set to be released next month he felt it was time.

You felt numb as you sat at the bottom of the stairs, you didn’t know how you knew he was gone, but you had all of a sudden just had the feeling of a missing piece, maybe it was your twin telepathy you both had so wished to have growing up, this was a sick joke if it kicked in now, now when he was gone.

You sat at the bottom of the stairs until you felt Leah’s hand touch your shoulder “Orlov.” Your heart clenched at the nickname, Lucas had given Leah special permission to use it, certain that she wasn’t going anywhere that you had her forever the engagement ring hidden in his dresser, not that you knew, certain that she knew about what you had been through, that she understood the meaning behind your nickname.

You didn’t have time to react as a knock came from your front door, looking at Leah smiling sadly you got up from the stairs and opened the door to two police men “Miss Y/n Y/ln.” You nodded, you didn’t feel Leah come up behind you as you listen to the police officers tell you about your brother, that you needed to identify him before they moved forward. You nodded along to it all before you asked “was he…do you think he was in any pain.” The officer looked at you softly “Hypothermia kicked in before he drowned, he simply closed his eyes and was gone, no pain, no struggle.” You nodded “no pressure.” You mumbled before turning to get dressed.

Leah couldn’t believe it, he was gone, Lucas was gone a boy she loved like a brother and she couldn’t understand why, he was happy, you both were happy with them, writing the album why, why had he done it. She had gone with you to the morgue and had said she would call her mum but every time she tried her fingers froze on the call button and words got caught in her throat. It was you who had done it driving you both to the Williamson’s house Leah unable to look at her family as you asked them all to come to the living room Leah sat beside you head buried into your neck as she grasped you tightly scared that if she let you go you would be gone too.

Amanda had let out a sob as you finished, Jacob got up and left the room and David just stared at you in shock as you held Leah impossibly closer watching this family, your family, Lucases family fall apart at the news, helpless you did what you had done since childhood and decided now was the time for you to stay strong, you could cry later and so you helped with dinner, helped tell the rest of the family, cousins, aunts and uncles and Leah’s grandparents who had adopted you both. The Arsenal girls had been informed all of whom made their way to your house along with the Williamson’s with flowers and food enough to stock the fridge for the next two months offering support and tears for you and your brother

In the coming weeks the Williamson’s helped you plan the funeral, you didn’t know how one went let alone one in England and you often found yourself and David talking to the undertakers for hours organising it. Until finally the day came, everyone had stayed in your house the night before and Amanda had started a big fry before you all headed to the church but you couldn’t eat, you were saying good bye to your brother, your other half, you were about to walk this stupid life alone and for the first time you cursed at him, you both had made it this far why, why did he decide he couldn’t take it anymore.

Leah had held your hand the entire way both of you following the coffin, with Amanda as Jacob, and David along with Leah’s cousins and Danny his sponsor carried him into the church. You got up and said a few words, talking briefly about your childhood before thanking the Williamson’s for everything they had done for you both, thanking Leah for being both you and Lucases rock when you felt like the world was to much. Heading to the crematorium you decided to swap out with one of Leah’s cousins wanting to carry your brother one last time, the sight made Leah sob as Amanda tried to hold her whispering into her ear, but nothing came of it you were saying goodbye to everything you ever knew and all she could do was hold your hand.

After it was all said and done and the after in the pub had finished you found yourself standing in the centre of his bedroom Leah lying asleep in yours. You looked at everything he had, all the pictures his rehab tokens, his guitar and piano, how were you supposed to do this without him, sing without him there beside you, live without him there beside you. You fell back onto his bed reaching your hand under his pillow when it made a crunch noise before finding a letter with your name on it “ORLOV”. You sighed knowing what it was you pulled it open.

Orlov,

I’m gone, I have left you on this earth alone and for that I am truly sorry, I’m sorry that I couldn’t fight any longer but I hope you understand how tired I am. Tired of living this lonely unforgiving life and I hope that someday you will understand, you have have been, my rock, my best friend and my twin sister through the hardest life no child should have to live, But you have come through it stronger, you have come through the it all a diamond in the rough. You see you are a diamond, formed under the pressure of our childhood but me, I am coal a dark rock not meant to last long on this earth.

I hope you know I have decided that now is the right time to say goodbye as I know you are going to be ok, you have the Williamson’s, the Arsenal and most importantly Leah. She is it for you, she is the only person you will ever need, she is your alcohol (bad comparison I know, she’s a lot healthier.) you are ready, ready to take on this life and conquer the world, but remember it’s ok to slip as long as you don’t fall.

One question you always asked me growing up was what did I think heaven looked like and I always told you I don’t know, but I do heaven is watching you fall in love with that girl sleeping in your room, watching you find a family who loves you the way you deserve that is heaven I love you always and forever.

I’ll be watching from stars Orlov .

Lucas TB

For the first time in weeks you cried, no you sobbed gut wrenching sobs and Leah found herself sprinting from your bed room catching you as you fell from the bed holding you tight whispering reassuring words into your ear crying along with you as you cried and cried, cried for your younger self, you cried for your current self but mostly your cried for him, for Lucas until you cried your self to sleep. Leah carried you back to bed before coming back into Lucases room and picking up his letter turning it over and finding a second one attached to it, opening it she found lyrics to a song and reading over it she felt her heart clench at the meanings behind them all.

The next morning Leah showed you the lyrics and before she even had time to ask if you wanted a coffee you were on the phone with your label canceling the album instead stating you had a different one.

Leah watched you tirelessly in the studio scared that if she left you alone in there you might never come back out, regretting her decision when you had dragged her in to record a piano piece.

A month later you handed your label a brand new album written mostly about you and Lucas with track six being for Leah, the label loved it and pushed for it to be released sooner than expected.

ORLOV

Track 1 Stick Season

Track 2 Bitter Winds

Track 3 Condemned

Track 4 Revival

Track 5 I Remember Everything (Lucas Y/LN, feat Y/n Y/LN)

Track 6 Sun to Me

Track 7 Dawns (Lucas Y/LN, feat Y/n Y/LN)

Track 8 Tourniquet (feat Leah Williamson.)

Track 9 Orange Juice

Track 10 Coal

With Leah's unwavering support, you found the strength to honor Lucases memory during the small tour you quickly been sent on leaving the grand piano seat empty until Leah came on to play her part in Tourniquet. You decided to end the small tour in London, your first headline show sold out at the roundhouse already playing five previous dates here due to the demand. Knowing this would be the last time of playing a small venue and with that a chapter closing and you having to enter one without Lucas you sighed retuning the guitar as you spoke to the crowd “My twin brother Lucas wrote this last song I’m about to play.” You cleared your throat looking out into the crowd before turning to the empty piano seat “We had a very hard childhood, but I knew as long as I had him, I’d be ok. Lucas left me on this earth alone just a couple months ago, but he knew something I didn’t, he knew I wasn’t really going to be alone, that I had a family that loved me, a girl who loved me even more and that really he wasn’t leaving he was just tired of his adventures on earth and wanted to see what the stars were like.” You sighed turning back to the crowd “this next song is called coal, and it talks about the pressures of life and I just want you all to know that when you feel like life is to full of pressure that when you can’t seem to find the light at the end of the tunnel that maybe look down you might find your four leaved clover, I got mine she’s in the crowd tonight, but there is always someone nobody here is alone.” You smiled catching Leah’s eyes “this is Coal.”

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kooktrash · 1 year

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love lies | jeon jungkook [1]

summary: an arrogant womanizer who’s spent his life numb to love. an unlovable romantic who’s been hurt one too many times. he’s your friend’s ex boyfriend but he tells you he wants you. he’s obsessive and you’re not as much of a victim as you make yourself out to be. you’ll both do whatever it takes to get what you want.

warnings: 14.3k. angst. smut. future yandere jungkook. college student au. rich kid jungkook. f!reader. unhealthy attachment.. slutshaming. toxic friendships. implied emotional trauma from both ends. you want to be loved [cassie howard tease]. jungkook is obsessive. both are toxic, one just shows it more. daddy issues/mommy issues. jungkook dated your friend. stalking. unprotexted sex. my boy can go to to town. multiple orgasms. slight degradation. riding. oral [f recieving] missionary. love bites. and probs a lot more warnings. series. MINORS DNI

part one is acc pretty soft compared to how the rest of the chapters will go

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He never considered himself the type to be so easily swooned. A man with looks, charm, and money never had difficulty choosing who and what he wanted. He’s not sure he’s ever been told no whether it be for something as small or big of a want. It’s been an easily life, a spoiled one that made him think he can have and do whatever he wanted.

And it was true to some extent. He’s soaring through University with not-so-great grades, he’s got a high paying position in his father’s architecture company waiting for him, he’s never short of women. He’s a man who knows how to get what he wants and makes sure he always gets it. What else could he have wanted? To keep it simple, you.

You’re not a stranger nor a familiar but he knows that what he’s experiencing right now, he’s never experienced before. There’s a ringing in his ears he swears were similar to bells. A feeling in his chest bubbling up almost causing him pain but in the most blissful way possible. It’s that feeling in your heart where it feels a sudden ache when reacting to something in a positive way. It’s almost like the same tug on your heartstrings when you’re broken but it’s opposite. Like reading a love letter and your heart seems to drop in joy. That’s the only way he can explain what he felt when he saw you again.

The world seemed to stop spinning. Everyone froze in blurs of faceless people. The only person in focus was you, under red and blue hues that danced across your face like sneak peaks into your entire beauty. Small peaks into the shape of your eyes under shadow, the curve of your lips as you spoke, the hips hugged perfectly by a pretty skirt. His heart skipped a beat when a light shone above almost like a spotlight aimed right at you for him to see. It seemed like you and him were the only ones living in the present. The only ones in clarity among the phases of people with no focus. Had you always had this magnetic pull? He remembered always thinking you were attractive but never like this.

At one single moment, his eyes trailed from your heeled feet up the length of your legs to the end of your minidress. Your hips next and then your waist, to your bust up the valley of your neck and to your lips. The bridge of your nose and then finally your eyes. A pair of hypnotizing eyes staring back at him yet you speak to another. The same eyes he’d stare at through the course of his brief encounters with you and yet it was never this intense. He always knew you were around but this time you were front and center in his mind.

Everyone unfroze but he didn’t notice. His eyes locked on yours as you walked and talked to whoever was next to you. It couldn’t have been more than a couple seconds but it felt like an eternity. And when you finally pulled your gaze away from him as if there hadn’t been such an intensity burning through both your gazes. He could feel the burn in his eyes as they threatened to water but he blindly let them follow after the ghost of you through the crowd. His lips slightly parted in complete awe. He didn’t think of anything else but your moving head through the crowded bodies pressed against each other. There wasn’t an ounce of focus on the people he came with. His foot lifted, mid-step forward ready to take the lead and go after you.

A hand hit his arm in a gentle but firm pat on his shoulder. It seemed to snap him out of a trance he hadn’t known he was in. His head whipping over to the source who only flashed him a wide grin holding a brown liquor in his cup. Jung Hoseok laughed at Jungkook’s blank and off-guard expression and shook him by the shoulder, “You okay there? You zoned out on us.”

Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to even think about what his friend had just asked him. The other two joined them waiting for his response and yet he didn’t give one. Instead he turned toward the general area he’d seen you in and left. He could hear them snicker behind him as to what his deal was but he didn’t care. His drink was brought to his mouth by his tatted hand as his eyes locked on your location chugging back the liquor before dropping the cup on the floor.

You were at the bar, head hung low listening to another girl say things into your ear. He knew you both and you knew him too. Jungkook slid in easily as the person on the stool next to yours emptied and he took ownership. Your friend noticed him first but he kept his gaze forward like he was just waiting to order a drink. His black and gray Dior button-up rolled up to his elbows exposing a forearm covered in intricate ink. His credit card was black with a gold lining and a gold emblem on the cover and he tapped it against the counter.

“Let’s go Y/n, there’s unwanted company,” your friend said as Jungkook told the bartender his order while simultaneously easedropping. He couldn’t help the upward curl of his lips in a smirk that was neither impressed or offended. “Namjoon invited his friend out tonight to meet you. Why don’t you just give him a chance? They’re waiting for us in our section.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the way his jaw tensed. He couldn’t have you leaving to another guy right now that he’s attempting to approach you. As if reading his mind, you shook your head no in an answer, not giving her anything more in a form of response and yet it was enough for her to understand. You didn’t want to do anything at the moment but sit at this bar alone. You looked up to Jungkook releasing a heavy sigh when you recognized him and turned your chair away from him even more. Fine, is that how you want to play?

Your friend seemed to hesitate at your silent response. She wanted to push for you to go with but there was nothing leaving her lips. Instead she nodded looking at everyone around you before turning to leave. You watched her go for a moment probably deep in thought before turning to face the bar. Jungkook could practically feel the soft sigh that escaped your lips on his skin. A warm fan of air that he’s not sure how he felt but he did. Goosebumps rose on his skin and her he couldn’t understand what he was feeling right now.

He’s never felt this intense attraction toward anyone in his life. He’s floated through life seemingly bored. No excitement, no change and he never realized how boring it all seemed until recently. Where’s the joy of having to work for something? What happens to someone who’s always had his way? It’s exhausting. No fight. No questions. Any woman he’s wanted, he’s managed to bed and then he throws them away like it was nothing. Every opportunity he’s been given he’s never had to work for it. He’s never had to think for himself and he’s never known struggle. The strangest part is that he knew you, not well but he did. He’s spent time at your apartment, he’s made out with your friend on your couch. He’s dumped that friend of yours when someone better came along and yet here he was trying to talk to you. You clearly seemed upset about something but that only intrigued him more. He wanted to know why your feelings were so displayed on your sleeve at the moment. It was weird to him, to see someone so open with how they felt but he knew he was the problem and not whatever you felt. Your feelings are not numb like his and maybe that’s why he felt such excitement locking his gaze with yours just moments before. In your eyes he could see every emotion he’s never felt.

“Excuse me,” his eyes seemed to roll to the back of his head, breath heavy as he inhaled deeply at the sound of your voice. It wasn’t soft but it wasn’t harsh. Had your voice always had this effect on him? Why wouldn’t you even look at him? It was a melody he couldn’t quite put his finger on but something that sent electricity dancing across his skin. You weren’t even talking to him and yet he felt every syllable vibrating through his bones. You looked to the bartender who seemed to ignore you and your bottom lip was dragged between your teeth as they sunk into the soft flesh clearly defeated. You raised a hand out trying to get her attention once more but you couldn’t grab it.

“Hey,” he called out firmly, attention drifting to him as the bartender came over with a flirty smile. He looked down at her unamused as he motioned with his tipped head in your direction, “She needs something.” The bartender seemed almost disappointed when he directed her to you instead of asking for something himself. On another day, another night, he might’ve played along. He might’ve flirted a bit just because he knew it made women’s heart beat faster and yet he wasn’t doing that tonight. Instead he’s looking to you again as you met his gaze with a skeptical one.

“What?” The girl asked in a demanding tone that had you shrinking back with clear confusion at her hostility toward you when she’d just been smiling at the handsome man next to you. No, Y/n, you’re drinking, remember who he is and keep your distance. Jungkook glared at her as if equally offended by her tone of voice used against you. Couldn’t she see that you were hurt over something Jungkook barely understood due to your friend? Couldn’t she see how vulnerable you were at the moment. It made his skin crawl with a sudden anger he’d never felt before.

She seemed to roll her eyes at your hesitance before repeating your response, “Just a water?” You gave a simple nod and she was shoveling into the ice before bringing you your ice water. You thanked her and she left flashing one last look toward Jungkook but he didn’t even react. His face was cold, emotionless and unamused.

“Hey,” it was barely an audible sound that could’ve gone unnoticed if Jungkook hadn’t been painstakingly aware of your entire existence just inches away from him. All thoughts of his friends and the poor girl he’d pick to take home tonight completely out of his head. You pulled your hair behind your ear and he only caught a glimpse of the action from his peripheral. You finally spoke again and this time he allowed his eyes to fully follow you, “What do you want Jungkook?”

“Is that how you thank someone who just did you a favor? If I didn’t help you, who knows when you would’ve been helped,” he said almost in a flirting manner but he was still trying to keep it under wraps. You rolled your eyes in annoyance but Jungkook couldn’t find it in him to be upset over it. You looked at him again, “Nobody asked you to do any favors.”

“And yet I did,” he said with a taunting smile that only seemed to annoy you more. He bit his lip, his piercing moving with the action and he looked down at you, “So why don’t you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Why do you care?” You asked clearly exasperated. He let out a sigh, “Because I hate seeing pretty g—“

“I see you’re still insufferable to be around,” you said with a roll of your eyes, you did not want to deal with Jungkook at the moment. Jungkook smirked, “And yet you’re still here talking to me.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, one foot on the floor already as you began getting down from the stool. You pushed against the bar for support but before you could truly get away his hand was going to your waist, more specifically your midsection. He was smiling, “Oh come on. Sit with me for a bit. I haven’t seen you in a while and I’m just curious. How’s Soomin?”

You sighed. You’re not sure why you’re still talking to him but you weren’t making a move to leave, “Good question, when you find out feel free to let me know.” His brows furrowed in confusion, how could you not know how your own friend is doing? He licked his lips in thought, “Why wouldn’t you know? I thought you were supposed to be her bestest friend.”

“Yeah well I thought so too,” you told him honestly turning to look at him as you twirled your straw around in your cup. He looked back at you with an expression you couldn’t read. Of course you knew Jungkook and you knew what kind of person he was. When you saw him tonight you didn’t expect for him to actually come over and talk to you. It wasn’t like you were friends or even close enough to talk and yet here he was and here you were. His brows furrowed in confusion, “You don’t talk anymore?”

“Well you see, after you ghosted her for no reason, she started shutting us out,” you told him with slight attitude. You’re still friends but she’s definitely distanced herself from everyone. Even if you’re not close with Soomin anymore you remember how hurt she was when Jungkook just stopped talking to her. They only dated for six months but Soomin had been in love apparently. Jungkook was arrogant and honestly hard to be around but Soomin loved him. Then one day, he just stops talking to her. He doesn’t respond to her calls or texts. He doesn’t let her into his apartment, he doesn’t stop to talk to her when she stalks him at work. He was just done with her and never gave her a reason for it. Obviously at the time you were still friends with her so it was easy to hate Jungkook. Yet here he was talking to you when Soomin wouldn’t. He didn’t even bother defending himself for ghosting your friend. Frankly he didn’t care. He had reasons for it anyway.

“Alright, now tell me why you’re upset tonight,” he changed the subject with no regard to the previous topic, “And don’t tell me you aren’t because you clearly looked it when Yeonwoo was with you.” You rolled your eyes at him drinking the rest of your water. You weren’t standing anymore so there was no reason for his hand to still be on you to keep you put but you didn’t have the energy to argue with him over it. It’s not like he was a complete stranger but he was your ex best friend’s ex. It still felt weird. His hand rested on your lower back keeping you close to him.

He had been attracted to you since the jump if he was being honest. It was one of those ‘chose the wrong friend’ sort of moments but there was nothing he could do about it. He had already been dating Soomin so there was no way to make a move on you. So, instead he shoved you in the back of his mind but he always was too aware of you whenever everyone gathered together. Now, tonight it was like a new awakening for him. He hadn’t seen you in months and for good reason since he ghosted Soomin without a single care and it was no surprise all of Soomin’s friends hated him for it. What he didn’t expect was for him to run into you tonight and remember how he used to feel attracted to you but this time around it was about ten times stronger.

“Why should I tell you?” You asked and though usually he’d be turned off by a girl’s abrasiveness he found himself smiling. He’d never admit but the reason he dated Soomin was because of how easy it was to get her to stay with him. He could do whatever he wants and with a little gaslighting she’d be the one apologizing to him. He liked his partners like that. It’s just more proof that he’ll get what he wants with no consequences. He didn’t even stutter in thought before speaking, “Because I’m asking?” You sighed, “Fine. I was dumped. Happy?”

Yes. Yes he was if this was the same guy he remembered you going through your talking stage with just earlier this year when he was still dating Soomin. The first time he met him Jungkook already didn’t like him. He was too eager to please you and it just proved to Jungkook that the guy didn’t have a backbone. Jungkook just nodded in acknowledgement, “Did he tell you why?”

Yeah, what a hypocrite. As if he ever told Soomin why he ghosted her but this was different. This was you. You scoffed looking away from him, “Why do you wanna know? So you could take notes and figure out how to properly break up with someone?”

“Oh I know how to end things when I want to,” he said ignoring your sarcastic tone as his hand touched the hem of your skirt where your back dipped in a little where you spine didn’t meet the waist band. The small gap giving him perfect space to let his pinky rest inside. He was closer now and you knew it. You should’ve moved away, gone back to Yeonwoo and her man, Namjoon but you didn’t. You were tired of hearing Yeonwoo argue with you over your poor taste in men. Why you kept falling for losers? Who knows. What you do know is that Yeonwoo would kill you if she still found you talking with Jungkook. You’re supposed to share a mutual hatred for him even if you only spoke to Soomin on occasion. It was girl code.

“So are you gonna move your hand or am I gonna have to make you?” You didn’t mean for it to come out in a flirty tone. To be honest, you were aiming for threatening but the smile that fell on Jungkook’s face told you it was anything but. His thumb began to caress your back taunting you, “That depends. How do you plan on making me?”

“I don’t go for my friend’s exes,” you said suddenly, no need to beat around the bush when you can feel Jungkook’s intentions. He leaned toward you a little more, daring himself to see how far he could go before you pushed him away. You probably should just ditch him but you’ve always thought Jungkook was attractive and he was giving you attention, unwanted or not, you thrive on attention. His was face was close to yours now, practically tasting you on his tongue but he didn’t make a move just yet. Instead, he said, “Good thing you’re not friends anymore.”

“You’re not my type,” you lied leaning back a little, that same pretty smile was back on his face. His nose brushing against yours as a sign to how close the two of you were. You should not be doing this but you can’t help it. The broken person inside of you, always eager to give into a man, was starting to come out. He let his lips skim over yours but never pressing them together, “Really? Because I don’t believe you.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to,” you said just above a whisper trying to turn your face away as a last effort to hold onto the small amount of self respect you have left. Don’t fall into the tricks of your friend’s ex. You know too much about their relationship to be this stupid. He wasn’t a terrible boyfriend but he wasn’t a good one either, clearly. “Kiss me,” he whispered in a husky voice unable to contain himself. He’s been thinking about your soft lips since the second he saw you tonight. It was like a sign from the universe. Just when he’d been living his life without a single thought about Soomin—the occasional thought about you—and just doing his own thing, you come back into his life. Practically served to him on a platter of red and blue. The music playing around you two blurred into the background along with everyone and you couldn’t help yourself anymore.

You were hesitant at first but with a simple, uncertain nod in agreement, he acted before he could stop himself. His hand cupped the side of your face gently and he did most of the moving, as tender as he could manage despite being lust-driven, he let his lips meet yours in the softest touch. You jumped like a startled lamb about to be eaten by a lion but after the short shock, your lips were meeting his efforts and kissing him back. You can’t believe you were kissing your old friend’s ex like it was the most normal thing in the world—especially after knowing how he treated her.

He physically crumbled into your touch, letting himself press even closer against you trapping you on his stool and against the bar counter. Your hand raised to touch his face, startled by the cold metal hitting against your lip but you didn’t move away. You let him take ownership of your mouth for the moment, a hand coming down to your waist in hunger before letting his tongue slide along your parted lips. Your tongue swiped along his and he audibly groaned into your touch and just as the hand gripping the fabric of your skirt was pulling you into him, someone was yanking you back.

“Ow!” You winced alarming him as he glared at the intruder in who just pulled on your arm forcefully. There Yeonwoo stood looking anything but pleased, “Fuck no, not on my watch.”

“Don’t pull her like that,” Jungkook cut in trying to reel in his anger from snapping at her as his gentle hand never pulled away from your face. She turned a fierce glare at him that he stared back with as she scoffed, “Fuck off Jungkook. We all know you’re a piece of shit. Y/n’s just drunk so she’s not thinking straight. What do you even want with her?”

“Am I supposed to care what you think?” Jungkook asked bitterly, “Why don’t you go worry about your boyfriend and get the fuck out? Y/n’s a big girl, you don’t need to speak for her.” You sighed, already fed up as they started a back-and-forth. You knew this was a bad idea and it was giving you a headache. Even worse, you don’t even regret it.

“Actually I do,” Yeonwoo argued though it wasn’t in your favor, “I’m not letting her make the same mistake with you as Soomin did—“

“Jesus Christ, it was just a kiss!” You stood suddenly making him pull back. You looked between them both, “And you’re both annoying the hell out of me so I’m going home.”

“I’ll drive you,” Jungkook rushed out but you raised a hand to stop him. “Don’t.” Yeonwoo gave him a smug look as you started walking away, neither one going after you knowing you were already annoyed. Jungkook raised his middle finger at her mouthing a quick ‘fuck you’ as he left in the other direction.

When the two of you are dating he’ll convince you to ditch her. She’s a bitch, controlling, and she’s always treated you like you were stupid. So did Soomin. You were always the one getting picked on because you fell in love to easily but he always thought that was the best thing about you. Even when he’d just observe you from his position as Soomin’s boyfriend, he knew you were a romantic. He considered himself one too but all the girls he’d been with would probably disagree. How’s he supposed to explain to them that it’s because they just weren’t worth expressing himself over. He didn’t love them, especially not Soomin, so he wouldn’t treat them like he did.

It’ll be different with you. He just knows it. The electrifying moment he saw you tonight and then the short but passionate kiss told him so.

“God, I still can't believe you'd kiss that dickhead. You’re lucky I stopped you before you made an even bigger mistake," your friend, Yeonwoo, said a few days after the night at the club. You were supposed to be shopping but instead you were just skipping through every hanger on the clothes rack without paying attention. This was the third time she's brought it up since then, "This is why you're always getting your heart broken. You fall for guys too easily and then what happens? You cry because you got dumped. You know Jungkook ain’t shit and yet you make out with him as if he didn’t just ghost Soomin out of the blue? God, how could you?”

"Yup, thanks for the reminder, really appreciate it," you said with a roll of your eyes. You didn't even try and deny it. You did. It wasn't your fault, okay? You've had a rough upbringing and your only coping mechanism is falling in love too easy seeking male validation because it's something you didn't have growing up. Why you fall for complete losers is a wonder to you too. You've gone through more relationships at the tender age of 22 then most people have in their life but it's really not your fault. You believe a guy too easily when they lovebomb you only to be complete pieces of shit. Not your proudest moments but what else is a romantic supposed to do? Of course you've been slutshamed time and time again for all your relationships but you don't know how to change your fate. Yeonwoo released a sigh when she noticed you were zoning out on her, “Soomin texted me last night. She wants to get drinks with us and Yoongi.”

“She didn’t text me,” you said with a shrug. You and Soomin had been close since the summer after your high school graduation. You met her through Yeonwoo and it was always obvious she was closer with her. It didn’t mean she didn’t care for you but you were always on the side of whatever friendship they had until Soomin distanced herself from Yeonwoo. You’re used to being second choice and even though all your time is spent with Yeonwoo, you know you’ll be ditched by your friends too. Especially if Yeonwoo tells her Jungkook kissed you.

What happened the other night was embarrassing but you didn't regret it. Whatever, it was just one kiss and though he’s currently texting you asking to meet up, you wouldn’t. You had enough respect to not do it again. He wasn’t a good guy to Soomin and that’s that they were dating. How’d he treat you when you’re nothing to him? You know she’s mad at you for doing that with Jungkook but you also know that’s not the only reason why. She's really just mad you didn't give her boyfriend's friend a chance because you were too distracted. You agreed to meet up with Taehyung again and actually be engaged in talking with hm but only because Yeonwoo begged you to. You looked down at your phone, it was the third time it rang and Yeonwoo was getting fed up, “Who’s calling you so damn much? I swear to God Y/n if it’s Jungkook then you’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.”

“Right because I have control over who calls me? Plus, it’s not him,” you said making her eyes roll. She left your side to head into the fitting room with a pile of clothes on her arm and you told her you’d wait outside. With an annoyed groan you got you phone, “What do you want?”

“To see you,” Jungkook said simply as he headed to the parking lot of his campus. It was past sunset but he had a class that had been pushed back so he was just getting out. Now, more than ever, did he wish he went to the same University as you. Usually he liked dating girls who he didn’t have to run into often. Girls from different schools, different cities, different circle of friends. It just made it so much more easy when he left them because then he didn’t have to deal with their crying faces begging for him to take them back. He never did anyway, unless it was for an easy fuck.

“Who says I want to see you?” You asked slightly annoyed as you looked to the fitting room so Yeonwoo didn’t catch you on the phone with the exact person she suspected had been calling you, “Besides, how do you know I’m not busy?”

He found himself smiling even if you were being too difficult for his liking. He’s used to girls just giving into him. He doesn’t remember the last time he had to put effort into wanting to see someone, usually he’d send a quick text and his needs would be met. He bit his lip to stop his smile, “My answer to both your questions is, wishful thinking?”

You rolled your eyes though you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t smile but that just annoyed you even more, “Is that all you want to say? Cause I’m shopping right now with Yeonwoo.”

He couldn’t help but pout a little as he opened the door to his car, “Let me see you.”

“Jungkook I—“

"I've gotta go back to campus when we're done, do you work tonight?" Yeonwoo said suddenly as she swung the door to the dressing room making you jump in surprise nearly dripping your phone in the process. You quickly recovered turning your phone away no longer thinking about Jungkook who was still on the line. "No, but I've got a lot of assignments to do so I'll definitely need to stop for some coffee and go home." You looked down at your phone, hanging up quickly as the two of you went to go to the checkout line.

"Hey Y/n," Yeonwoo called out to you as the two of you left the store. You turned to wait for her, "I'm not trying to be a bitch, but I'm just tired of seeing you get hurt. I'm your best friend so I can't just sit back and watch you cry every time someone dumps you."

The two of you barely made it out before you got a text. To be honest, you had actually forgotten you had Jungkook’s number. It was from months ago when he was still dating Soomin. For a while Soomin didn’t have a phone since she’d lost it on a night out. Jungkook let her use his phone for about a week or so you saved his number and he saved yours. In reality, she asked Jungkook to help her get a new phone but he said no even though he had enough money in his bank account to pay for one in full. Even if she couldn’t afford one during that time, Jungkook still didn’t let her use his phone often unless it was to text you or Yeonwoo.

It’s strange to him actually. He’s only now realized how much he used to pay attention to you. He knows he’d keep you in the back of his mind but it was never this intense. He just thought you were attractive and that had been it—or so he thought. Maybe the night of the club when he first saw you after months, hadn’t been his awakening to wanting you. Maybe it had always been there and he just didn’t notice.

How could he not remember the way he used to stalk your social media around Soomin, zooming in on your face, checking your likes, all of it. How he used to ask her who she’d be hanging out with and he’d only ever say he’d join her if he knew you’d be there. Hell, he had completely forgotten the way he’d reread the texts you and Soomin shared the time she didn’t have a phone. He’d blame it on curiosity but really he would just read your texts with a slight smile acting like he’d been texting you instead. Even after breaking up with Soomin he found himself looking at your contact just wondering if he should take his chances and talk to you again. Now that he had an excuse to text you, since you kissed the other night, he went for it.

jeon jungkook: don’t go anywhere. we’ll get coffee together

jeon jungkook: where are you?

Fuck, it was so fucking stupid of you to actually want to see him. He wasn’t a good boyfriend to Soomin. They were always arguing about something. She was always crying and you had even heard the stuff he told her when they fought. Everything about him screamed red flag. He is a male Virgo for fuck’s sake. Yeonwoo was already judging you for what happened at the club because for some reason she took it personal. Soomin had ignored you both without a single care and yet you were still supposed to respect girl code? All because she was texting Yeonwoo available but not you? Like yeah, part of you felt guilty because she had been your close friend at one point and you missed hanging out with her. It’s not like you didn’t know she had dated him but fuck you can’t help it. You just got dumped two weeks ago and now someone new is giving you attention.

you: i don’t want to wait

you: I’m gonna ride the bus to __

Once the bus got to the stop the two of you swiped your cards and found your seats. Even after she stopped on campus you kept going till you were in your neighborhood. You got off at your stop and left to the coffee shop you've become a regular at. Thankfully, the place was practically empty only one person in front of you and it was a tall stranger dressed from head to toe in black. A huge contrast to your cream colored sweater and gray leggings. His voice was deep and familiar but you had known who it was before they spoke.

When he was done he moved to the side looking behind him. Jungkook smiled warmly, finally, he thought. He sped over to where you’d told him and since he knew the bus would do multiple stops and it’d give him time get here before you. And you actually smiled back at him. His heart melted. He hasn't been able to get the taste of you off his tongue. He wanted to do it again right here, right now. Possibly do even more, he doesn't care who sees. "Well surprise, surprise," he responded as he reached over you to pay for the drink. Your head tilted in amusement as you moved to stand next to him waiting for your drink, “Is it though?”

His was made quickly and they were calling his name to get it but he waited for you, "100% I definitely wasn’t still on the phone when you told Yeonwoo you were getting coffee. And I also didn’t ask for you to tell me where so I could come and see you.”

“Woah, don’t start exposing yourself,” You said teasingly. He matched your smirk, “What are you doing this weekend? I want to take you out.”

You smacked your lips feigning disappointment, “Sorry I’m busy. I’m meeting up with Yeonwoo, her boyfriend, and his friend on Saturday and I work Sunday.”

“What about Saturday night?” He asked even though he was more curious to know the guy Namjoon would be bringing. If it was the same one mentioned at the club he needed to know. You looked down at your phone, a new text from Yeonwoo, “Can’t. Apparently we’re getting drinks with Soomin and Yoongi.”

“Friday?” He was just getting more and more frustrated trying to find time that you could spend with him. Who was the guy and why was Soomin suddenly wanting to talk to you again? You shook your head in response, “I’ve gotta work.”

His jaw clenched. Why can’t you just make time for him instead of Soomin? That’s going to fuck up his chances with you. You looked to him waiting to see how he’d react but instead of talking about Soomin, he brought up something else.

"It's a shame Yeonwoo cut in," Jungkook said with an exaggerated sigh. Oh God, he was bringing up the kiss. You were hoping you could just see him again without having to think about the kiss and what it could mean that he’s bringing it up instead of a drunken accident. “Jungkook.”

He bit back a groan, it sounded so good coming from your lips he couldn't wait to have you screaming it. He'd treat you so damn good, better than he's treated anyone. He'll hurt whoever the fuck hurts you and he won't care who it happens to be. He’s never felt this intense for someone before. He’s had tons of girlfriends. Tons of girls before but he could never say that he honestly ever cared about them. Sure he played the concerned boyfriend if they’re upset but deep down he had just been so annoyed by their moods. Why he was so determined to date you and vows to be the perfect boyfriend for you is even more confusing but he just wants it so bad. And he needs to get what he wants.

Shit, you’re trying to say something to him, “I don’t know how I feel about the other night. It’s just weird you know? Can we not talk about it?”

His smile dropped instantly, “Why? You’re single, I’m single and it was just a kiss. There’s nothing to be weird about.”

You rolled your eyes at that, but your voice spoke just above a whisper clearly uncertain, “You know what I’m talking about.”

He sighed looking away, “I know what you’re talking about but that’s in the past. You didn’t care the other night when we kissed. All of a sudden, Soomin wants to talk to you again and now you won’t even give me a chance? Plus, who cares what Yeonwoo says.”

You shook your head, “It’s not just what she’s said it’s ab—“ “Look at me,” he said, your eyes seemed to soften and he took the chance at scooting his chair around the table to sit next to you, trapped you further into the corner against wall and window of the round table you were sitting at. You didn't shy away from him either and that excited him. He can't wait to shower you in riches and love. You'll never leave him, he'll be perfect for you just as you're perfect for him. Don't ask him how he knows you're meant to be together, he just does. You leaned into him a little as you looked up at him. He stared into your eyes softly to show you how serious he was, “I’m into you, alright?”

“I know you’re feeling guilty because of the fact that I dated your friend and I also know you think I’m a piece of shit just like Yeonwoo does,” he kept going, “But I’m telling you right now that I really want to see if anything happens between us. And I know you’re curious too so just give me a chance.”

You whined in frustration, “You’re so annoying.” You still leaned into him a little and he was leaning into your touch too.

"I’m being serious," he said, a hand going under your chin and as if already knowing what he wanted, your lips met his in another electrifying kiss. Fuck, you were the absolute worst. That’s what everyone would say when all your friends find out. But you still weren’t backing away from him. Part of you did want him just a little but you shouldn’t.

It was so fucking weird that he dated your friend and now for some reason you’re both feeling an instant attraction. It’s not like the two of you had been friends. You were his girlfriend’s friend who he’d see on occasion when forced to go with Soomin somewhere. You’d only talk when Soomin was around and that one rare time he gave you a ride home from her place where you talked about movies. Obviously when he disappeared on Soomin you thought he was the absolute worst and that’s how you felt until you stopped talking to Soomin as much. Then after that he didn’t really come to mind when you didn’t see her anymore. But the night of the club when you saw how intensely he was looking at you, you had instantly been intrigued.

You're not sure how it happened and it's times like this that you wondered if you were too stupid to know any better. But even with those thoughts in your head you still invited him into your house to touch your body.

"We should slow down," you sighed out as he kissed along your neck hungrily sitting next to you on your bed. He growled at that, hand still groping at your sides inching your sweater up enough for his hand to touch bare skin. He was practically crawling onto your lap trying to get closer than he already is. He sucked that sweet spit on your neck that had you biting back a moan as you held him by a hand on the back of his neck. He let his tongue flatten against it soothing any pain from his harsh sucking, "You’re right, but you’re just so pretty, I just want to devour you."

He kissed your lips shushing you and you happily met his efforts with need as he pushed you down onto your bed as if it was his own. Soon he will take you to his penthouse, lay you down on his king sized bed and give you all his love. By morning he'll make you breakfast, pull you into his hot tub and make love to you again. In the tub, against the window, on the floor, the counter, the wall, his car, his sink, everywhere. He'll fuck you everywhere his heart desires and he knows he'll never get tired of it. He doesn't care if this was the second time he's seen you in months. You're meant to be with him. He knows that now. The bad part is that he knows he’s slowly becoming obsessed and he doesn’t know how far he’ll take it since this is a new emotion. And he won’t let anyone get to your head and tell you this is wrong when it feels so right.

"You don't have a girlfriend, right?" You asked. You're too embarrassed to admit how many men you've slept with who had girlfriends you didn't even know about. And you wouldn’t at all be surprised if Jungkook had anyone at the moment. From the way he treated Soomin and how obsessed she was with him, you know he can have any girl he wanted. You’re proving his point and yet you didn’t do anything about it. He kissed your lips with a smile, you're just so cute to be asking him that even as you laid under him. How could he have a girlfriend that isn't you? He's only had quick fucks recently but he's got bigger plans than that for you. You're what he's been waiting for all his life. He kissed along your jaw between words, "Do you want to be my girlfriend?" Say yes, he thought.

"I don't know," you said honestly with a little gasp as he kissed down the column of your throat crawling down your body until he was kissing your exposed collarbone letting his hands inch up your sweater and fondled your breasts through all the fabric. You really wanted to be. As depressing as this might sound, you didn't know how to be single. Clearly that was noticeable by the way you were getting over an ex when you reconnected with Jungkook. You didn't know how to be independent. All you knew was the security being in a relationship brought you no matter how shitty it was. All you know is that you'd do anything for someone to love you and this man wants you even if he dated your friend. You're not even questioning it enough.

You're not sure when his head dipped under your sweater or when he yanked your bra down enough for your tits to spill from the top. You couldn't even see him as he attached his mouth to a breast. All you saw was a big lump under the fabric and the sensation of a warm, wet tongue running over your nipple immediately making it stiffen and your back arch. Jungkook wasn't shy with his touches, he was hungry. If he would’ve known he’d fall for you this hard when he had his mind set then he would’ve ditched Soomin sooner and took his chances with you way sooner. He wants you all to himself.

It's the greed talking. The spoiled rich kid in him that's making him like this but he doesn't care. He's going to have you. The tit that wasn't getting completely slobbered on in his mouth was being fondled by a rough hand. Squeezes around the plump flesh of your breast, fingers pinching your nipple making it harden enough for him to play with it. He was squeezing them together trying to force both in his help but he couldn't. He hadn't known he'd begun to rut against your bed. His cock growing so unbelievably hard and fast it was painful. His body never felt like this.

All the girls he'd fucked in the past had been just that. A quick fuck. He didn't seek out their pleasure. He didn't care about them. He put as much intimacy into that rough fuck as Patrick Bateman did fucking prostitutes. With girlfriends he acted nicer but when he wasn’t in the mood anymore, he was done.

"God, your body is so fucking slutty baby," he said in a low growl as he reappeared from under your sweater, hair tussled and lips swollen red and out of breath. His hands didn't stop their groping on your breasts even as he looked you in the eyes. You whined at that. The only times you've been called slutty is when insults have been thrown at your face. He was yanking your sweater off you, "I love it. I want you to be the nastiest fucking slut for me and only me. Can you do that?" He could hear the roughness in his voice and that’s no what he wanted. He wanted to cherish you but he wanted you so damn bad he couldn’t help it.

Suddenly you felt different. He didn't mean it in a bad way? He wasn't trying to bring you down? He wasn't asking about your body count or your past? He wasn't looking at you in disgust when your body reacted so quickly to a man's touch? You finally nodded after he was tearing into the middle of your bra between cups. You didn't realize how easy it was for him to split the material and clearly he didn't have time to unclip it from the back as he was tearing it off you like an animal. You gasped once more at the roughness and he smirked, "You like that bunny? I wanna make love to you all fucking night, you hear me? I want you screaming my name. I want you clawing at my back begging for more and I promise you will be begging. If you need me to slow down, say yellow but I'm not stopping. You're mine."

Fuck, it sounded so good coming from him but it still felt like it shouldn’t. He was such an ass to everyone and you know this and yet you don’t care. You don’t care how he left Soomin. You don’t care about how he treated her at the time. It was awful. You felt awful but your body was a horny mess all the time and you know it. Your past boyfriends never cared for pleasuring you. They used your body however they wanted for a quick fuck and whenever they were done they didn't even want you touching them.

Sure, Jungkook is using your body but he's actually providing pleasure with his rough touches. He's hungry for you and you could feel it through every kiss he left down your body. Of course you couldn't see the line of red bruises forming in your abdomen as he quietly marked your body in love bites making sure to have them on both breasts too and he wasn't stopping until he got to your pussy. He wanted you completely drowned in his affection and he had no problem marking you up cause of it. He was still fully dressed when he started tugging on your leggings and panties. You kicked your legs with a whine that had him clicking his tongue with a shake of his head. He reached for the back of his t-shirt pulling it over his head and discarding it on the floor. His hair was a messy black mop fanning over his face but he just waved it away. His hands slid against your legs.

They started at your your shins sliding up to your knees where he parted your legs with a firm grip. His nails dug into your thighs as they traveled toward your inner thigh making you spread them even more. His eyes traveled from your covered core up the line of love bites forming in your stomach and between your breasts to your face. Self-consciousness rose inside you as he smiled down at you leaning forward to capture your lips with his. Your legs threatened to squeeze shut but as soon as they tried, his muscular form stopped you from doing so. His hands gripped them roughly, his nails digging into the inside of your thighs just near your pubic bone. You whined into his mouth and it made him pull back with a groan.

"You're so gorgeous," he said breathlessly as he pulled away to take his jeans and briefs off. He struggled with the thick denim for a moment before laughing lightly dipping back between your legs to kiss you once more. His body pressed against yours as his tongue licked along yours dragging his mouth back so only his tongue would touch yours. He looked down at the indecent act, his saliva mixing with yours before taking your mouth with his again letting his eyes fall shut. Your arms wrapped around his neck dragging his mouth with yours and his body pressed you into the bed so deeply that you felt ever ridge of muscle on him. Finally, his free cock was pressing against your cunt, “I’ve always thought that, you know?”

"Ju—" you couldn't speak with his hungry kisses, thick and heavy cock sliding between your pussy. Your slick coating his angry member making the slide all that more delicious. He let you squish him by the neck against your lips, he felt all your desire and it made his heart race. Your hips were becoming restless and he knew you were just so desperate for him that he had to do more. He pulled away with a groan sinking down until he was hoisting your legs up and around his neck. Without another thought, he was yanking you toward his face.

"Tell me," his voice was demanding, but desperate licking his lips as he stared down at your core. You'r hands came around to hide but he was quick to send you a glare strong enough to stop you in your tracks, "Tell me, do you want to be mine baby?" He looked you in the eyes as he gave a tentative lick along your cunt only as a tease to make you gasp, “Fuck just say yes.”

He knows he’s asking for too much right now but he can’t wait. One could say he’s known you for a while even if it was in completely different circumstances so technically there’s no reason you two can’t move quickly.

"Yes" you said with a roll of your hips in the hopes that his mouth would slide up and lick your clitoris. You were feeling such pleasure just from his hands. You were too used to whist being fucked and left to fend for your own pleasures that you weren't used to all this attention on your body. As if answering your prayers, his nose rut against your clit, "You want me to touch you? Make you feel good?"

You nodded with a squeeze of your eyes that had him smiling, another tentative lick lime before. "You mean...like this?" he said to which you shook your head no, he kissed your pussy lips like he kissed your mouth. "So you want to be with me?”

"Yes," you mumbled as he parted your pussy for a long, languid lick. "Of course you do" he bumped into your clitoris once more and you clinged to his shoulders. "Because I like you so much more than everyone else. And I’ll treat you so good, so much better than any other guy. You know that, right?”

"Jungkook," you sighed, "Do you mean it?" You shouldn't believe it, it was only your second time meaning him and yet he's telling you everything you want to hear. And you know what he’s like, you’re just so naive when it comes to relationship ships and he came at the right time.

His head was pressed between your legs, his tongue flattened against your slit as he licked from, your already dripping entrance, to your clit. Even like that he was nodding his head moving with the buck of your hips not giving you any time to rest. He stopped to circle the bundle of nerves before sucking it between his lips swirling it around with his tongue. "Fuck Jungkook !" You let out a moan, that had his eyes darkening in hunger.

He groaned against you and your hips bucked thrust against his face. You panted, a hand down on your hair, "I'm gonn—gonna—"

His hold on you tightened and he seemed to push himself deeper into you. He snuck his hand up next to his mouth that attacked your clit. Without warning, he plunged two wet fingers into your tight cunt. He fingered you at a rapid pace, the combination of his tongue on your clit, his fingers inside you. You let out a loud and long moan, your back arching off the wall, your legs shaking around him as you began to release. He was quick to remove his fingers and forcing your hips down on the bed as he lapped up every last bit of you with his tongue.

"Tastes so sweet, just like I know you would," he moaned out licking the corners of his mouth. He was wrapping a hand around his cock, fisting his dick as he lined it with your entrance, "You'll let me fuck you like this, right? Are you on the pill?”

"Haven't I made you feel good?" He asked licking his lips as he let his leaking tip gather your slick puddles at your entrance. You shook your head, "Yes bu—"

"Don't you trust me?" He asked letting his tip press into your cunt, "Haven't I already treated you so much better than all the others? Don't I deserve to feel your wet pussy all on my cock? Feel it baby, feel how much I love you. Won't you let me have you like this?"

"Mm," you nodded but he needed more, he grinded against your pussy knowing he almost had you, "Yes, please fuck me raw." He moaned into your mouth, sinking in with one shaky breath catching you both by surprise. His arms came around to the back of your knees forcing your legs up to your chest so he could reach deeper. It made you both audibly moan into each other's mouths. His back arched creating a curve letting his hips pound into your pussy.

Your hands clawed at his back and it made his eyes roll with the burn of each scratch. His elbows dug into the pillows around your head trapping you under him raising his hips back only to pound his thick cock into you feverishly. He looked down at your pretty face watching the way in controrted in pleasure and he was breathing heavily, "Doesn't it feel god like this honey? A thick cock stretching your tight little pussy? Making you feel better than anyone else has? Am I doing it? Tell me."

"Yes baby," you moaned and he swears his heart exploded in his chest at the name, "Do you want me?"

"So fucking much," he grunted rocking his hips into yours roughly. His back muscles tensing with each powerful thrust, "Nobody else will ever treat you better than me. We were meant to be together."

"Bu—" you were so close to your second orgasm and his words were only inching you closer. He knew this too. You clawed at his back in one final effort to hold onto your climax but it did nothing. Your walls broke within you, release escaping around his cock as he held you roughly while riding out your high. He growled into your neck as you squeezed around his member deliciously with each twitch of your cunt. He dragged his cock out, biting into your shoulder lightly as he came with a loud grunt, spurts of creamy white liquid painting your thighs.

"One more," he said panting, sweat covering every of his skin as he swallowed dryly. He didn't give you time to argue already rolling onto his side dragging your hips over his. His voice was raspy and dry, too low. You let out a small whine in acknowledgement as you nodded your head lining him up with your entrance. You'd do anything if he loved you despite your body being exhausted. You lifted yourself so Jungkook can enter when he's ready. He strokes his cock a few times getting more turned on with how fucked out your body looked for him. He looks down so he can position his cock right below your entrance before letting you sink back onto his hard dick. His mouth draws open in a silent moan, breathy gasps as his eyes rolled. He's in love with you.

Fuck he loves you. This is everything he'd been waiting for all his life. Yes, he knows how crazy it sounds but it just makes sense. There’s a reason he saw you again after months he just didn’t realize it until you were looking into his eyes under those blue and red lights. You were the one he'd been blindly following and that’s why he put up with Soomin for six months when he hated being with her. Look what he could’ve been enjoying.

You began to fuck yourself slowly barely able to raise your hips. You were completely spent. Jungkook had already dragged two orgasms out of your body and you're not sure how much more you can handle but you'll never tell him. You won't disappoint him because then he'd leave you like everyone else, right? He said it himself nobody will treat you like he does so you can't lose him. So instead, you let your body try and feel good again.

"Fuck, it feels so good," you moaned out honestly, when his hand groped your ass digging his nails in with small grunts every time your thighs smacked his. You needed more intimacy. You didn't just want to feel use and so you leaned down. He met your efforts kissing you passionately as your hips continued bouncing on his member, letting him drink in your moans. Both hands on your ass night, helping you ride him as his neck began to hurt from reaching up to kiss you. His hips lifted off the bed as his feet dug into the mattress and he breached further into your cunt. On birth control or not, he knows what the two of you are doing is dangerous and not something two college kids were ready for.

"Oh my god," Your hands latched onto Jungkook's shoulders sitting back again with the overwhelming pleasure making you squirm. He forced your ass to grind on him. He didn't make you bounce on his cock. He pulled you to the hilt and let your wet cunt make a mess on his naked body. Your thighs had been hitting against his hips so much that they were sore from where they bulged out from his pretty frame.

"I can—can't, Jun—I," you moaned, hips speeding up already feeling a third orgasm. Jungkook drills his cock into you, fully allowing himself to sit up cradling you on his lap crossing his legs to hold you better. Jungkook shushed you pressing his face into your hair, letting you rut on his dick, your legs wrapping around him locking him in place, "Shh, you can. One more bunny, you can do that for me, right? Please? I love you, do this for me."

"Cum for me," he whispered over and over into your ear until finally your legs twitched in one final moan of his name as you came. Unlike last time, he couldn't wait for you to calm down before chasing his own release. He lifted you up enough to tug his cock out before pointing at your ass. His eyes on yours as he climaxed.

It took you both a moment, Jungkook's head rested on your chest catching his breath. He motioned for you to get off him and onto the disheveled bed and immediately fell down right next to you. He took your hand in his breathlessly pressing it to his lips so he could kiss your knuckle. He looked at your tired face, "Let's get you cleaned up before you go to sleep."

You didn't say anything as he moved to sit up still out of breath as he moved around to your side of the bed. You stuck your arms up and he gladly leaned down to take you in his hold. Naked and yet not aroused, it was oddly domestic. That's what Jungkook was going for. He's showing you how much he loved you. He's proving how little everyone else has loved you by just being a gentleman taking care of his girlfriend after a rough fuck. You expected him to leave, he knows you did but he'd never.

| next

request 1

::.

a/n, sooo I decided to make this a series bc when I saw my word count was 14k and I still wasn’t done with the plot I figured to just make it a series. I don’t usually do series cause I get bored easily but rn it’s just on my mind so I need to write it lol

also, thoughts on new cover idea, I edited the pic to match my blog theme cause it’s originally yellow and blue 😭 anything for the aesthetic 💅

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #yandere jungkook #kpop #kim taehyung #bts #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #park jimin #bts smut

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storiesforallfandoms · 11 months

Text

i don’t ever wanna see you with him ~ roman godfrey;hemlock grove

word count: 2551

request?: no

description: after he gets jealous of her best male friend, she decides to put him in his place

pairing: roman godfrey x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

Roman Godfrey was spoiled and entitled. Everyone in Hemlock Grove knew that. He was the heir to the massive empire in their small town, so it wasn’t a surprise that he had a sense of entitlement. That entitlement tended to extend to his romantic relationships, too. Roman was often very possessive and jealous over his girlfriends. Most of them liked that, most of them viewed it as hot and endearing.

(Y/N) was not one of those girls.

She and Roman had met through (Y/N)’s best friend, Peter. He was enamored with her the minute he laid his eyes on her, and, secretly, (Y/N) had felt the same way. Not that she would ever tell him that. She had been warned about Roman before she met him. She wasn’t about to give into him so easily; she made him work for it - for her. And he really did put in the work until (Y/N) trusted his commitment to her and agreed to date him.

There was one issue about Roman, though, and that was his jealousy towards (Y/N) and Peter’s friendship. He thought he kept it lowkey, but both Peter and (Y/N) knew. They both knew Roman better than he thought they did. They could see when his eyes darkened whenever he looked at them. They could see his jaw tighten whenever (Y/N) laughed at something Peter said. They could see the way Roman always needed to be touching (Y/N) whenever the three of them were hanging out.

It wasn’t that Roman didn’t like Peter. When it was just the two of them, they were the best of friends. It was Peter with (Y/N) that Roman didn’t like. And that was what pissed (Y/N) off. Peter had been her friend long before he was Roman’s, and long before Roman and (Y/N) started dating. And that’s all they were - friends. There had never been any sort of romantic feelings between them, and there never would be.

That’s why (Y/N) was walking up to Peter’s trailer on her own on a sunny afternoon. He was laying in a hammock, his eyes closed as he soaked up the sun. Upon hearing her footsteps, he opened one eye and peered over at her.

“Where’s your shadow?” he asked.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “He’s not that attached to me.”

“He may as well be a wart on your ass, (Y/N). Especially when it comes to me.”

“He’s certainly a pain in my ass,” (Y/N) muttered. “Move over, I want some hammock.”

Peter chuckled and shuffled over slightly. (Y/N) got into the hammock, laying with her feet towards Peter’s head and her head towards his feet. The hammock swayed with the motions before it settled again.

“He doesn’t know I’m here,” (Y/N) said as her body relaxed into the swaying fabric.

“What?” Peter asked.

“Roman. I didn’t tell him I was coming.”

“Is that healthy? Like, for your relationship.”

“I didn’t lie to him or anything. He’s busy with some family shit, so I haven’t even heard from him yet today. If he were to ask, I’d tell him I’m here.”

“And then he’d show up and kick my ass.”

(Y/N) sighed and rested her head back against the hammock. “Do you think he’ll ever stop being so...”

“So Roman?” Peter finished. (Y/N) nodded. “It’s hard to tell. His entire life he’s been surrounded by enablers, or he’s been under the control of his insane mother. I think we’re the first people to treat him like an actual person and not like he owns the world. So either we could help him, or he’ll annoy us both to a point where we can’t deal with him anymore.”

The latter option was what worried (Y/N) the most. She loved Roman, other than his jealousy he was an amazing boyfriend who loved and cared for her so deeply. She didn’t want to lose him, but she knew Peter had a point about if Roman couldn’t control that jealousy. She couldn’t live the rest of her life wondering how Roman was going to react to every guy she interacted with, whether it was friends, co-workers, or just random guys she ran into on the street. And she definitely was not going to be made to choose between Roman and Peter when she had known and been friends with Peter the longest.

She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Peter knew what she was thinking. It wasn’t the first time they had this conversation.

They fell into a comfortable silence. There really didn’t need to be any conversation. This was the first time in quite some time that the two were able to spend time together and actually enjoy it. So that’s what they were doing: enjoying their time.

The enjoyment didn’t last too long, though, as they heard a car pulling up in front of Peter’s place. Peter’s mom’s car was already in the driveway, so there was only one person it could be. That suspicion was confirmed by a car door slamming and Peter rolling his eyes when he saw whoever it was approaching. (Y/N) huffed out a sigh as she prepared herself for the argument that was undoubtably coming.

“You two look comfy,” Roman commented.

“We are,” Peter responded. “Wanna join? you can lay across us.”

Roman glared at him before turning to (Y/N). “I was trying to call you. Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

She looked down at her purse where her phone was, which she had left on the ground when she climbed into the hammock. She gestured to it. “It’s too far away for me to reach. And my phone is on vibrate, as it always is, and you know that.”

His jaw clenched. (Y/N) felt her frustration reaching its peak.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?” Roman asked.

“Well, for one, you haven’t responded to my texts at all today, so it’s not like I’ve even been talking to you today,” (Y/N) retorted. “And two, you don’t own me, Roman. I’m not required to tell you every single thing I’m doing or where I’m going.”

“You do if you’re hanging out with other guys by yourself.”

(Y/N) swung her legs over the side of the hammock and stood up so quickly that Peter nearly flipped out of it. She approached Roman with such ferocity that Roman took a step back before she reached him.

“Let me tell you one thing, Roman Godfrey: I’m done with this jealousy bullshit. I am not your property, I am your girlfriend. You do not control where I go or who I’m friends with. Especially when the person in question is my best friend who I’ve known way before I met you. This dark, entitled rich boy bullshit might work on other girls in this town, but it’s not working on me. If you want someone to put up with that, then you may as well find someone else to be your girlfriend, cause I can’t do this anymore.”

She picked up her purse and put it over her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Roman asked as she started walking away.

“Anywhere that’s away from you!” she hissed. Over her shoulder she added, “I’ll talk to you later, Peter.”

~~~~~~

(Y/N) was home by herself that night. Her parents had gone out to some kind of function, and had asked if she wanted to tag along, but she told them to go on without her. She felt like she needed some time alone to come to terms with what had happened that day.

Peter had texted her asking if she was okay, but she hadn’t responded. She wasn’t upset with him by any means, as he didn’t even do anything wrong, but she just felt like she didn’t want to talk just yet. When she did respond, it was going to be to tell him she wanted to forget everything that had happened that day and to move on as if everything was normal, minus the fact that she and Roman were no longer together.

Roman hadn’t texted or called at all. She wasn’t sure if it hurt more that he hadn’t, or if it had hurt less.

She was sat in the living room, half paying attention to some movie that was playing on TV, when a knock came at the door. The sudden sound startled (Y/N). She wasn’t expecting anyone, and she knew her parents weren’t either as they weren’t even home. She figured it might be a door to door salesman, or someone trying to talk to her about the Lord, although it seemed too late at night for any of that. Either way, she stood from the couch and went to answer the door.

Standing there, leaning against her doorway, was Roman Godfrey.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him.

“Can I come in?” he asked in return.

“Not until you answer my question.”

“I came to talk to you.”

“You have a phone, which I know you know how to use because you were blowing mine up before you came to attack me and Peter.”

“I wanted to come talk to you in person. You’d be more likely to answer the door if you didn’t know I was coming than to answer your phone if you knew it was me calling.”

Okay, he has a point.

(Y/N) reluctantly stepped aside and gestured for Roman to come in. She closed the door behind him and led him towards the living room. She had been sat with all the lights off before Roman knocked and hadn’t realized just how dark the room had become. She switched on a small table lamp and muted the movie before sitting back in her spot on the couch.

“Your parents aren’t home?” Roman asked.

“No, they’re gone to some gala for dad’s work,” she responded. “Don’t get any funny ideas. We’re not together anymore, remember?”

Roman winced, as if her words had physically harmed him. “Yeah, I know. That’s what I came to talk about.”

He sat down next to her on the couch, but left a respectable distance between them. She appreciated that it seemed like he wasn’t trying to be too pushy towards her or anything, at least not yet.

“Go on then,” she said, waving her hand at him. “Start talking. What was so important that you had to come down from your castle to speak to the commoner?”

Roman scowled at her. “You know you’re not a commoner.”

“Compared to you and your wealth I am. But that’s not the conversation we’re having right now. Whatever it is you wanted to say, say it, and then I’ll decide whether or not I want you to leave immediately.”

Roman sighed and ran his hands through his hair. (Y/N) quickly glanced at the dark brown strands that were between his fingers. His hair was always incredibly soft. (Y/N) always loved to run her hands through his hair and seized every opportunity to do so. She had to look away just as quickly and shove down those painful memories. She couldn’t let herself break and go back to him just because of something so trivial.

“I’m sorry.”

The words shocked (Y/N) so much that she almost physically jumped when he said them. They were words she had very rarely ever heard said with such sincerity coming from Roman’s mouth. She had heard it in sarcastic mutters under his breath whenever his mother chastised him for something stupid, or said to defuse a situation that was getting a little too heated, but this wasn’t in either of those ways. This time, he actually meant it.

“Can you say that again?” (Y/N) asked.

Roman chuckled and rolled his eyes. “I said I’m sorry.”

“One more time.”

“(Y/N), I do have more to say.”

“Yeah, but this is what I want to hear.”

Roman shook his head at her, a smile threatening to break out across his face. “Look, what you said earlier, at Peter’s, you were right. You are my girlfriend, not my property. I shouldn’t have been so possessive and attempting to control your friendship with Peter. I just...every time you two are together, I’m reminded about the fact that you and Peter are close, and that you’ve been close for a very long time. I know that Peter isn’t as much of a prick as I am, some would say he’s an actual nice guy I guess. I know there’s nothing between the two of you, but there’s always been this fear in the back of my mind that maybe...maybe that could change. That you would want Peter more than you want me.”

There was hurt in his big green eyes. His confession surprised her because Roman always seemed so confident in himself. It was one of the first things she had ever heard about him, about how cocky he was.

“Why did you never tell me before?” she asked.

Roman shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to seem like a crazy, possessive boyfriend. I didn’t realize I had already been acting like that. I actually thought I was hiding it well.”

“Yeah, because showing up to Peter’s place because I didn’t answer my phone is totally not a crazy, jealous boyfriend move.”

He chuckled. “Okay, touché. That was not one of my better moments.”

“None of how you were acting was one of your better moments,” (Y/N) said. “I would’ve much preferred you to have told me how you were feeling instead of bottling them up and allowing yourself to treat your best friend like garbage whenever we were hanging out.”

Roman cringed. “I did treat Peter pretty terribly, didn’t I? God, he probably hates me.”

“You’re definitely not his favorite person right now, but I’m sure you can get back in his good graces by acting like an actual person and not like a jealous piece of shit.”

“What about your good graces?”

(Y/N) thought to herself for a moment. He had come to apologize in person. He knew the way he had acted was wrong, he actually apologized for it, and it seemed like he was willing to make a change. That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? For him to work on the jealousy and actually change it.

“I think you can get back there,” she said. “You’ll just have to work for it again.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

(Y/N) smiled. She moved closer towards him and unmuted the movie. “You can start by cuddling me and finishing this bullshit movie with me.”

He smiled back at her and put his arm around her shoulder. “I can do that. But why are we finishing the movie if it’s bullshit?”

“Because I’m invested in the bullshit.”

Roman chuckled and pulled (Y/N) towards him. She rested her head against his shoulder and he put his head on hers. He tested the waters by placing a kiss on the top of her head. (Y/N) didn’t argue. Instead, she turned her head to kiss his cheek before settling against him again.

#Roman Godfrey #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey x reader #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgard x reader #hemlock grove #hemlock grove imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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nichuuu · 6 months

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Dried Things & Humanity

말린 것들과 인류

Word count: 13k+ SMUTLESS FIC

"The world, after all, was still a place of bottomless horror. It was by no means a place of childlike simplicity where everything could be settled by a simple then-and-there decision" ~Osamu Dazai

Dried flowers.

They sat by your bedside, a constant reminder of how far you would go for love—A love that would never be anything more than a short-lived euphoria. They’d died some time ago, wilting rather quickly under a lack of care, but you kept them. The text that came when spring first rolled around saying hey let’s break up was not expected, neither was the part where she blocked you, nor was the part where you almost jumped off a bridge. Yet it all happened, a confusing, muddled, mish mash of events that went down over the span of a week. If it weren’t for your friends, you would be at the bottom of the river by now, joining your grandfather and maybe your family dog up in the clouds, or wherever it was that spirits wandered to. At the moment, getting out of this life didn’t seem like too bad of an idea.

You stupid child! Your mother had chided when she found out about what you almost did. What do you think you would’ve achieved with that? What good will it do?

Then she hugged you, held you tight and sobbed as she thanked god for letting you live another day. Frankly, you didn’t know what was the appropriate response for your mother. You opted to hug her back, tearfully whispering your endless apologies to her. Even though you promised to never make another attempt on your life, the fear of losing her only boy still lingered in your mother’s mind. Your mother and father were always in the office. So, in fear that living alone would drive you to the worst possible option, she sent you to live with your uncle who ran a secondhand bookshop in a small town not too far from the city. She filled him in with what happened and pleaded for him to help you “recover”.

“Don’t worry little sis,” he assured your mother. He threw an arm around you, “I’ll take care of him like he’s my own son. We’ll get along, won’t we?”

Park Sang-hoon—the people living in the area called him “the librarian”—was your mother’s older brother. You hadn’t seen him since you graduated from middle school, and he’d certainly aged from the last time you saw him. The hair that was once jet black and slicked back was turning white and receding. The same friendly complexion remained however, the amiable smile that you remembered greeting you when he opened the door to his house. It was a stone's throw away from the bookstore.

The house and the business had been imparted upon him by your grandparents. It was relatively small, but there was enough room for the two of you to live with your own privacy (though that didn't really matter since he’d just come barging into the room you stayed in anyway.)

The door to your room flung open. “Hey kid! Rise and shine!”

You grumbled something incoherent and pulled the blanket over your head.

“Up! Up! It’s time to get up!” your uncle bellowed in a sing-song tone, “there are so many things to see and do! Get up you lazy child!”

Your blanket was yanked off your entire body.

“Is this really necessary?” you snapped. Your uncle grinned.

“No. But it’s fun,” he beamed. You rolled your eyes and rolled onto your left side, you back facing him,

“Leave me alone…” you muttered, “let me sleep…”

“I’ve been letting you do that for the past week,” your uncle huffed, “now your mother is calling me, demanding to know if you’d even emerged from this room. She said some mean things to me, you know?”

You sighed and turned onto your back. “I’ll go out tomorrow…”

Your uncle sighed. “Let me tell you something…”

Let me tell you something was the signal for you to tune out. “Let me tell you something”, “Let me tell you this”—your uncle always said these before he launched into a long rambling story that really added no value to what he was trying to say. It was either that or he’d leave you with a cryptic message to decipher yourself. You never understood why he did that, it was probably just an old people thing.

By the time he was done with his little storytime, you were still in bed. With another heavy sigh, your uncle said, “fine… If you’re not gonna go anywhere today, at least come and help me with the store.”

Your mind told you to stay in bed, but your body told you that you needed to get outside. You decided to listen to the latter party for once.

The bookshop was old, one of those shophouses down a stretch of road that townsfolk usually walked past on the daily. Needless to say, the store wasn’t the most appealing from the outside. The inside however—That was something else.

You remembered visiting the bookstore with your mother once or twice. A stack of books nearly fell on you that time, and your uncle was berated rather viciously. He’d definitely made some improvements in the time you were away. The store was warm, cosy and relatively organised. The shelves were evidently a little worn from the years, but they still looked and felt sturdy to the touch. It was a welcoming environment, the interior bearing a striking resemblance to a bookstore of the early 90s.

“I’ve kept up with the times!” your uncle boasted proudly, “nowadays everyone and their mothers are all into this retro aesthetic, so I made sure to keep as much of the hip and cool retro feel.”

Your uncle definitely did his research. You couldn’t help but look upon the shelves filled with books with awe. “This is…”

“Pretty lit, am I right?” your uncle grinned. You cringed.

Your uncle frowned. “What? Did I not use the phrase correctly?”

“N-No it’s just… Ah whatever,” you muttered.

“Damn… I swear I had the meaning for that one down,” your uncle muttered, “the slang of the youth… Such an odd thing.”

After giving you a little more time to admire the place, your uncle tossed you an apron and instructed you to put it on.

“I’m alright with letting you stay with me for free,” your uncle told you as he helped you tie the strings of the apron behind your back, “but I won’t let you wallow in this post-breakup sadness all day.”

He spun you around, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You just graduated from highschool, no?”

You nodded.

“Perfect, you’ll need some job experience then,” he grinned, “from now on. You’ll work for me till your stay here is over!”

And so it began. From that day onwards, you started filling shelves, dusting books, pasting on price tags and flipping through pages of books that had been sold to the store to assess the state of the book. It was far from enjoyable in the beginning. It felt akin to the life of Andy Dufrane in Shawshank redemption, the same old routine repeated day after day in what felt like an endless cycle. You were up early in the morning to open the shop with your uncle, the brown apron on your person by 7am in the morning and the door to the shop open by 9am after you were with the opening up preparations. You had to flip the plastic sign hanging on the door from “open” to “closed” every morning, and from “open” back to “closed” in the late evenings. Lunch was usually around 12pm, where your uncle would go out to one of the nearby restaurants to get lunch for the two of you. You’d sit opposite each other in the small break room that sat behind the counter, munching on whatever he bought.

Handling customers was also another gruelling task. You admittedly didn’t have a voracious appetite for books, many authors sounding foreign to you. A good majority of the books that the store had on hand were classics from esteemed authors, varying in language, length and appeal. When customers asked you what you’d recommend, you could only shrug, earning yourself a nasty gare before they walked off. When they asked about the disparity between the prices of the same book, you could only stare blankly before calling to your uncle.The store had duplicates of some books, the only thing separating the copies being the cover art or the type of book cover.

“Let me tell you something,” your uncle had told you one fine day, “hardcover books are much more valuable than the usual soft cover books. You want to know why?”

That last part wasn’t a question, rather more of a filler. Apparently, a hardcover was typically more durable, allowing it to better protect the pages within. This meant that the book would stay in better condition for longer. Ultimately, the process and materials needed for hardcover book printing were more expensive, hence this cost is passed on to readers.

“Capitalism,” you muttered, placing the hardcover version of Greek Lessons by Han Kang on the shelf.

As for the cover art—Some covers were objectively more appealing than the other, making the book more valuable. This was the case for Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human. The two covers looked about the same to you.

On some days, you wondered how such an old secondhand bookstore could’ve lasted for so long. There were days where you only sold two books for little Won each, and those were typically on weekdays where some of the townsfolk—usually on the more elderly side—would come through the doors and browse through the books. But on the weekends, you were reminded just how hectic this place could get. The youth from the city loved to flood the shop over the weekends, making the commute from the heart of the country to this small shop in a small town to browse through the seemingly endless selection of books.The line to the counter often snaked out the door and onto the street on those days, and your fingers would be aching by the end of the day—A byproduct of gripping those handles of those paper bags while struggling to get them open.

After a week or two, you got used to the whole routine. It didn’t help to remove the monotony of your tasks however, and you often found yourself wondering how your uncle could run this place on his own for so long. With the memories of your ex still tormenting your mind, you found it hard to focus on your tasks at times. Sometimes, you just didn’t want to get up in the mornings. The dried flowers by your bedside were a constant reminder of the pain. You’d bought them for her on the day that text came, now you couldn’t let go of them.

One evening, your uncle decided to close up the shop a little earlier. It’d been a slow Wednesday, so there was no harm in resting up a little earlier than usual.

“Come with me,” he told you after he’d locked the shutter in place, “I want to take you somewhere.”

You walked up the stretch with him, walking past the rows of shophouses that lined the street. You saw bookstores that looked similar to your uncle’s a couple of times, prompting you to wonder just how many people sold secondhand books on this stretch.

He took you to a small bridge at the end of the road. It was one of those old, traditional Korean bridges with the stone tiling that arched over the water. He took you up to its apex and made you look out into the water.

“What do you see?” he asked you.

“Is this one of those stupid lectures again?” you muttered.

“Just answer me.”

You sighed. “I see the water and some trees.”

“Good. What else?” he urged.

“There’s nothing else,” you told him.

“Wrong. Look again.”

You rolled your eyes and set your sights a little further. “I see Cogongrass.”

“What else?”

You were certain that this was one of his stupid little talks again. “Just tell me what you want to say, uncle!”

“Always so impatient…” he chuckled.

Gently, he grabbed your chin and tipped it up. With his other hand, he pointed out into the distance—Past the trees, water, the cogon grass and the roofs of the shophouses. There, you saw the mountains and the roads that stretched for kilometres, the faint shape of those big blue signs that pointed you in the directions to different places.

“You limit yourself to what you see in this area,” he explained, “but you fail to see past this river and this small town.”

He turned you back to face him. You were a little taller than him, so he had to look up at you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders, holding them firmly.

“You must learn to set your sights further, dear nephew,” he told you, “learn to see past the trees and the water in your mind. Then and only then, will you be able to live once more.”

The cryptic message left you admittedly puzzled on the way home. It took you some thinking to read between the lines and understand what your uncle had told you—You had to look past the memories of your ex in order to move on with your life.

“Excellent,” your uncle had praised when you knocked on his door to ask if your interpretation of his message was correct, “I hope that you can remember this. I hate to see you moping around my store. It scares my customers away too!”

Your first step in looking past the memories was to toss out the dried flowers from your bedside. Even though it was painful, you did it. You knew you needed to.

In its place by your bedside, you bought an alarm clock—one of those old ones that still used the hammers to knock the two small bells—And a framed photograph of the town. You bought both of them from one of the nice old ladies who ran a souvenir shop just down the road.

It was the start of a new beginning. It felt like you were human once more.

***

Dried Persimmon.

That was what you were munching on when you were handed your first paycheck from your uncle.

“W-Why are you paying me?” you stammered, “I-I thought this was just something to occupy my time!”

“I may be cheap, but I won’t exploit my own nephew!” your uncle laughed, “now quit sneaking snacks on your shift and get back to work!”

You knew that your uncle was generous, but you never expected him to be this generous. With a smile, you wiped the bits of the dried fruit from the corners of your lips before pocketing the envelope.

“Thanks,” you beamed. You raised the small jar of dried persimmons and asked, “want one?”

“Tsk. I’m a professional, I don’t eat on my shift,” he sneered.

“You sure?” you confirmed, “this is a fresh batch from Miss Cho’s…”

“From Miss Cho’s?” he gasped, “gimme some of that!”

You had become well acquainted with the townsfolk, especially with the ones that ran the stores on the same stretch as the bookstore. Sometimes, the sweet old ladies from down the road would come in to deliver some gifts to you and your uncle. Everyone seemed to be friends in this town. Miss Cho was one of the many townsfolk that specialised in dried goods. A sweet lady really, a little older than your mother but not as old as your uncle. Persimmons were seasonal fruits, so they were naturally high in demand in late spring.

You let your uncle take one piece of the dried fruit before closing the lid and setting it atop the table in the break room. Your uncle stepped aside to let you exit, and you went to continue your shift.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take too long to move on from your ex. Yes, you did share some fond memories with her, but you found these “core memories” made with her easy to forget. She no longer appeared in your dreams, neither did you think about her when you were going about your tasks. She’d become a distant pain, a pain that you never intend to revisit.

Once, she did happen to come by the bookstore on a weekend. She walked into the crowded store, hand in hand with a brand new boyfriend while you were calculating somebody’s purchase. You caught yourself staring at her as she browsed through the books, her boyfriend lingering close by as he read over her shoulder. It was then that your uncle firmly grabbed you by the shoulder. He’d seen pictures of her. He could recognise her on sight

“Look past the trees and the water,” he reminded you, before going back to checking out books. You tore away your gaze from them and continued with your work.

When she came out to the counter to pay, the look of shock on her face almost made you want to double over in laughter. Swiftly and wordlessly, you took her books and packaged them neatly in a bag.

“That will be forty-thousand Won ma’am,” you had smiled respectfully. She was still staring at you, her mouth open in the shape of an “o”. Her boyfriend had to pay and take the goods from you before directing her out of the store.

When they left, your uncle gave you a gentle pat on your hand. Well done was what he was trying to say.

True to your uncle’s lesson, once you had gotten over her, you felt like you were alive. You found that you quickly took a liking to this new lifestyle, immersing yourself in the wide array of books that were at your disposal and even taking home a few to read. It felt like a fresh new chapter had begun in your life, and you were more than ready to welcome its start. The monotony was now welcomed in this slower-paced segment of your life.

“By the way,” your uncle called to you as you set down a box of books. He’d just bought them off a guy moving overseas. “I have a feeling that business will start to pick up soon!’

“Why’s that?” you asked.

“You’ll see…” he smiled. He popped another dried persimmon into his mouth. “Damn! This batch is bussin!”

You cringed. You could get used to life in this small town, but you knew that you’d never get used to your uncle throwing out the slang of your generation. You wondered if he had Tik Tok on his phone or if he’d seen one too many Instagram reels.

With your box cutter, you cut open the tape that sealed the cardboard box, the one that housed the goods. You opened the box.

“The hell…” you muttered as you stared at the books within, “who did you get these off?”

“Some preschool principal. What’s up?” your uncle asked.

You produced one of the many alarmingly thin books from the box. “Hate to break it to you but… These are all children’s books.”

Your uncle was never one to swear, but he made a rare exception for that moment.

“Fuck!” he cussed rather loudly, “I should’ve asked what the contents were!”

You chuckled and placed the book back into the cardboard box. “Don’t worry uncle, we can always sell these to the daycare, can’t we?”

“Bourgeoisie scumbag! I paid a lot for that!” your uncle continued to ramble. You decided that it would be best to silently push the box into the storeroom while he let his frustrations out.

***

Dried leaves.

That's what you were sweeping when a black van rolled into the stretch of street. The front doors opened and a man and a woman stepped out. It was early autumn. The leaves of those trees that grew next to the bookstore—Once beautiful and elegant in nature—became pesky as their leaves had begun to wither and fall. Your uncle saw the mess outside the store and immediately got you to start sweeping it up. He couldn’t stand the sight of it.

You halted your broom as the man and woman approached you.

“Hello,” the woman greeted you, “is this Park’s second hand books?”

You nodded and pointed at the sign above you. The woman grinned. She turned and told the man to get the gear out.

You recognised the city accent in their voices.

The man wrapped around the vehicle and opened the trunk. You tried to look into the van but found that the tinted windows didn’t let you see anything. The man came back around, a heavy video camera—those ones they used to film movies—on his shoulder. The woman approached the door of the van and pulled it open.

Five girls got out of the van, selfie sticks with Gopros attached to the end in their hands as they filed out of the vehicle one by one. It took a moment for you to recognize the five of them, and another moment to realise that there were global superstars standing right before you.

In a wordless panic, you dropped the broom and bolted into the store. Your uncle was behind the counter, counting the bills in the cash register when you called him.

“ITZY is in front of the store!” you exclaimed. Your uncle cocked his head.

“ITZY?” he inquired, “is that a new slang or something?”

“N-No! T-Their idols, uncle! There are idols outside the door!”

It took a moment for your uncle to process what you’d said. Then, he simply smiled.

“Right… I forgot to tell you about that,” he said. He placed the bills he had been counting back into the register and walked out from behind the counter.

“Oooh… These girls are much prettier in person,” your uncle mused as he walked by. He opened the door to the store and stepped outside. You could hear his booming voice through the open door. “HELLO! WELCOME! WELCOME!”

You could hear them exchanging greetings outside the store. Hurriedly, you scanned around the store, looking for any signs of mess. There were thankfully none.

“Come in! It’s rather cold out,” your uncle said, “it’s much warmer in here!”

You quickly stood up straighter, your hands by your sides as the five ITZY girls walked through the door of the store.

“Welcome to the store!” your uncle grinned, “that over there is my nephew, he runs the place with me for now.”

The girls turned. The feeling of five pairs of eyes on you was nerve-wracking, and the two cameras that started to flank you on either side weren’t helping to ease your nerves. Where did the second camera come from? You couldn’t help but wonder.

You gulped, a tug of war between waving and bowing to the girls ensuing in your head as you stared blankly.

“He’s uh… A little shy,” your uncle chuckled. Then he gave you a look, one that said hurry up and say hello you dense child.

There was no victor in the mental tug of war. In the end, you resorted to an awkward half wave, half bow. The girls sniggered at your greeting.

Then and there, you wanted to shrink down and hide in the shelf behind you.

The woman from earlier started speaking to the girls. “This is the final place. Now, we will draw lots to see who goes where!”

She produced a handful of popsicle sticks. The girls started talking about how nervous they were, giggling amongst themselves as they started to draw the sticks one by one. Your uncle stood by the woman, a small smile on his face as he patiently awaited the result.

“Oh. Looks like I’ll be working here!” Shin Yuna smiled as she looked at her stick. You weren’t sure if it was excitement or disappointment that you heard in her voice.

“Excellent!” your uncle beamed. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen going twenty, sir!” Yuna answered bubbly.

“Ah! Looks like my nephew will have a friend of his age then!” your uncle laughed.

“E-Eh?” you blurted, “w-what’s happening?”

Your uncle walked up next to you. He put an arm around your shoulder.

“I’ll explain later,” he whispered.

Yuna giggled and cleared the hair from her face. You made eye contact with her.

She grinned.

You felt a burning sensation on your face.

***

Dried Pollack soup.

That was what you ate with your uncle as people came in to set up cameras around the store. Every corner, every angle, every millimetre was covered by at least one Gopro.

“They said in the email that it was for their Youtube,” your uncle told you, “they're gonna live in this town for a bit, work at some of the stores… Taking a break from their idol activities apparently.”

“B-But why the bookstore?” you inquired. Your uncle shrugged.

“I don’t know. They sent me a 30 page proposal that I didn’t bother to read. I figured that having idols in our store would help boost our business. Get people from other parts to come here—You know what I’m saying?”

You did not know what he was saying. The whole situation was so overwhelming. An idol working at the bookstore? For how long? What did you need to do?

A knock came on the break room door. You turned and saw a man standing there, Gopro in hand.

“Sorry to disturb you, but can I put a camera in here?” he asked politely.

Your uncle gave him a look and asked, “is that completely necessary?”

“I-I mean… If you guys are okay with it,” you replied. Your uncle sighed.

“Take the soup out,” he instructed you, “give them space to set up…”

***

A very, very dry mouth.

That's what you had when Yuna walked into the store for her first day of work.

She was tailed by one cameraman and another woman, both of them wearing the same shirt that read “JYP CREW”. You could feel the cold sweat on your palms as you handed her the apron that already had her name tag on it. With a rather apparent stutter, you welcomed her to her new job. She smiled, that radiant smile that you’d only seen on your phone screen now right before you. It sent a warm fuzz down your spine.

Your uncle showed her around, breaking down the various jobs to her as you opened up a box of books—they weren’t children’s books this time—and got to filling the shelves. You could hear every word that came out from your uncle's mouth as you explained the tasks that the idol was to undertake, as well as the opening and closing timings of the store. He finished his run down just as you finished placing the last book from the box on the shelf.

“What should I do now?” you heard her ask.

“Go help my nephew. I think he could use a hand,” your uncle replied.

“Right! On it!” came her bubbly reply.

You could feel your heart beating faster as you felt her get closer and closer.

A tap on your shoulder.

“Hello!’ she greeted you, “let’s work well together!”

You managed to sputter out something. She asked for instructions on what she should do. You blanked out for a second. Then tremulously, you reached into your apron and pulled out the second box cutter.

“U-Um,” you began. “T-There’s a box of… B-Books in the store… Just… Just uh…”

Her gaze felt piercing even though it was gentle. It’d been awhile since you’d stood before a girl this gorgeous. Your nineteen-year-old hormones were getting to you, sweat beading your forehead as you struggled to give the idol instructions.

Then suddenly, you ran away. You didn’t know why you ran, but you just ran out of the store and down the street. Getting away from the store was your main task, and you ran quite a good distance in the chilly autumn air before you finally ran out of breath. Clammy, tense and exhausted, you rested outside one of the shophouses along the stretch.

“Fuck… What’s wrong with me?” you questioned yourself. It was like you’d never talked to a girl in your life.

It only took a second or two for the adrenaline to fade. In its place came embarrassment as you buried your face in your hands. What are you doing you stupid idiot! Why did you run? You chided yourself, beating your cheek with your own palm.

You heard someone call your name. You raised your head.

“Why are you slapping yourself in front of my store?” Miss Cho inquired. She was pushing a cart full of pears. They were probably freshly harvested.

“Oh… Hey Miss Cho,” you greeted her, “I was just… I-I don’t know…”

You ended up pushing Miss Cho’s cart back up the street.

“She’s a what now?” Miss Cho pressed.

“An idol Miss Cho,” you explained. You eventually got around to telling her the reason as to why you were beating yourself in front of her shop. The concept of someone singing and dancing for a living sounded completely foreign to Miss Cho—Someone who spent most of her life drying fruits and making snacks—So you had to explain it to her.

“Ah… I remember my daughter saying something about it,” Miss Cho mused, “so… Why did you run away from her?”

“I… Don’t know,” you told her truthfully, “I guess I just freaked out.”

“Because she’s famous?” she pressed. You thought about it for a moment, then you nodded.

Miss Cho stopped addressing you for a moment to greet Mrs Han, the lady that ran one of the restaurants on the stretch with her husband. Miss Cho gave the restaurant owner a whole carton worth of pears, telling Mrs Han to make something tasty out of them before the two of you continued moving along.

“Why are you scared of an Idol?” she continued to question.

“I-I don’t know… I-I guess it’s because she’s popular and all, so I’m scared that I’ll make a fool of myself in front of her,” you reasoned.

Miss Cho hummed and nodded. “I see…”

She stopped once more, this time in front of the sweets store. You helped her pull out a crate of apples from the bottom of the stacks of pears and handed it to the store owner. Miss Cho requested for a batch of the sweets when they were ready before the two of you got to moving again.

“So… Why does this girl being this idol make her any less normal than you?” she asked.

“P-Pardon?” you stuttered, “I-I never… I never said that…”

Miss Cho chuckled, one of those nice Ahjumma laughs that could warm one’s heart. “You did not, but the way you spoke of her implied it.”

You let that sink in for a moment. Now that you thought of it, you’d made Yuna sound like some high and mighty god that could smite you with a snap of her fingers.

“Just because someone has millions of fans doesn't mean that they’re any less of a human than you and I,” Miss Cho told you, “just because someone is adored doesn't make them more superior. If that was the case, I’d be a warlord by now!”

The dried fruits specialist cackled at her own joke. She always had a tendency to do that.

“You see… The problem with fame is that everyone places you on a pedestal,” she continued, “a mistake could cost your whole reputation. A good choice could gain you more popularity. It’s a never ending game, dehumanising in the sense that these famous people can’t afford to live normal lives. Why? Because they’re not considered normal! That’s not right if you ask me…”

You were wondering where this knowledge was coming from. You made it a mental note to talk to Miss Cho a little more. Was it normal for all the old people in this town to be so wise?

The two of you finally stopped in front of the bookshop. Miss Cho instructed you to take in a crate of pears, assuring you that she could make the rest of the journey down the street herself. You waved goodbye to her and prepared to enter once more.

“Remember,” she called to you. You were just about to open the door. “That girl is human. Treat her the way you’d treat any other human.”

She left you with that nugget of wisdom before she bade you farewell and continued with her journey up the street. You sat on her words for a moment before you entered the bookstore once more.

Yuna’s head snapped towards the door when she heard the chime of the door. You made eye contact with her.

Human.

With a smile, you carried the crate into the store and asked, “pears anyone?”

***

A dry wipe.

That’s what you gave Yuna to clean the dust off the shelves. Two weeks had elapsed since she’d started working with you and your uncle. You never got used to the fact that there were always cameras around you, nor did you ever get used to the fact that the woman and the cameraman would pull you aside and ask for your opinions on Yuna as an employee every now and then. You would always try to be as honest as possible, excluding any embarrassing slip ups she made in an effort to not badmouth the girl.

Within her first week here, she’d already clocked in late once. She apologised furiously that day, working twice as hard to compensate for her mistake. Standing tall, she could reach for the things that customers couldn’t, making her a great help to the regulars. She learnt quickly, finding the most optimal way to replenish the shelves by her fourth day and figured out the best way to assess the state of the book on her fifth.

Weekends had become more packed because of her, the word that Shin Yuna from ITZY was working at the store getting out rather quickly within the first Saturday she worked here. The next day, you had a flock of Midzy’s in front of the store 3 hours before opening. You had to guide Yuna in through the back entrance to prevent her from being swarmed. While Yuna greeted her fans that came to see her in the store with a big smile, you couldn’t help but notice the hint of tiredness behind her eyes. It was like she didn’t really want to be there, but she had no other choice

Now, she was doing an excellent job getting the dust off the top shelves.

“I think that’s good enough Yuna,” you told her. She turned to look at you.

“You sure? I think it still needs one more round,” she told you.

“I’ll take your word for it,” you told her, handing her another sheet of dry wipes while you took the blackened one from her hands.

“This is great,” she told you, beginning her final round of cleaning, “it makes me feel like I’m at home again. I feel like I’m a kid.”

Here’s the thing about Yuna—Her joy was contagious. When you saw that smile on her face, you couldn’t help but smile along with her. The silliest things could make her grin, and you’d end up grinning with her even though you didn’t find it amusing. You were convinced that it was a special skill of the sort.

Yuna wiped up whatever dust she could find, leaving no stone unturned as she completed her task. It was almost closing time, a relatively slow day for the bookstore as usual. Yuna had been completing her shifts diligently, only ever disappearing for lunch and toilet breaks.

Hell… If she wasn’t some bigshot idol, I’d have her employed full-time in a heartbeat! your uncle had told you over lunch one day. You couldn’t help but agree with him.

“There! All clean!” Yuna exclaimed.

“Could you show us the cloth, Yuna?” the lady producer asked her.

For a moment, you saw a hint of annoyance behind her eyes. Then the usual, childlike wonder took its place and Yuna presented the cloth to the camera.

“Ta-da! All clean!” she beamed proudly. You politely clapped your hands in the background. The female producer gave Yuna a thumbs up before tapping the cameraman’s shoulder. “I think we can wrap up for the day.”

The two turned and walked out of the store. Yuna waited till both of them had exited before letting out a deep sigh.

“Break from idol activities? Yea right…” she muttered, stepping off the step ladder. You stretched out your hand to take the dry wipe from Yuna. She suddenly seemed to remember that you were there, and that bright smile returned to her face. She handed you the dry wipe, all bubbly and smiley.

“I’m going to wash my hands in the bathroom, boss!” she told you. You nodded and let her go. She skipped off towards the back entrance. Your uncle walked out of the storeroom. He was drenched in sweat, his green shirt turning dark under the moisture.

“Hand me a towel would you?” he requested. You quickly walked behind the counter and tossed him his slightly moist towel. He caught it, smiled, then wiped his sweaty face.

“Who knew organising could take so much out of me?” he chuckled. He looked around. “Where’s Yuna?”

“Bathroom,” you explained. Your uncle gave you his Ah I see expression. Then he took a look at his watch. “Let’s get ready to close up shop.”

You nodded and walked over to the door. As you were about to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”, you saw Yuna walking back towards the shop. You raised an eyebrow.

Coming in from the back would’ve been much quicker…

As she got closer, you could make out the tired look on her face. Then you realised that the cameraman and the female producer were following her once more. So much for wrapping up you thought to yourself as you pushed the door open.

“Yuna!” you called to her, “come in! We’re gonna start closing up!”

The weary look disappeared in a flash. Yuna smiled from ear to ear and began jogging towards the store. You found that the cameraman and producer were far from wrapping up, following the idol back into the bookshop like chicks tailing their mother.

“H-Hey um… Didn’t you guys say you were wrapping up?” you asked the producer. She turned and looked at you.

“We need as much content as we can get. Gotta keep going,” she told you. Then she left to catch up with the camera man. You were suddenly ill at ease.

They continued to follow Yuna as she assisted you and your uncle in closing up the shop. They were like shadows, tailing the idol with every move she made. There was an unmistakable look of irritance on Yuna's face, but she only let it out when her back was turned to the camera. At the end of it all, the female producer made the idol shoot a thumbs up to the camera and exclaim, “Another job well done today!”. Only when they had gotten a perfect take of that did they truly cut the camera and start packing up for the day.

“Try to be a little more energetic tomorrow,” the producer told Yuna. You were all outside the store by then. The shutter was closed and locked. The final piece of equipment had been loaded into their van.

“Got it!” Yuna beamed. The producer nodded and wordlessly got into the van with the camera man. The van pulled away, leaving the three of you to breathe in its exhaust as it became smaller and smaller.

“This street was never built for cars…” your uncle grumbled. Then he turned to Yuna and told her, “good job today. We’ll see you tomorrow!”

Yuna smiled—this time a little less bright and more weary—and bowed. “Thank you for today! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

The idol turned on her heel and walked off towards the small house that she and her members stayed in for the time being. You couldn’t help but notice the way her shoulders seemed to slump.

“Are we overworking her?” your uncle asked. He must’ve noticed too.

“I’m not sure,” you answered, “I feel like it’s not the work…”

Your uncle raised an eyebrow. “What else could wear her out today? She’s been cleaning and stacking all day!”

You pursed your lips. Then, you turned to your uncle and said, “go home without me. I need to do something.”

You set off after the idol. She hadn’t walked too far over the course of your conversation with your uncle. You caught up to her in a matter of seconds.

“Yuna!” you called her. She turned.

“Hm?” she hummed.

You stopped before her. “Could I… Take you somewhere?”

You only realised how weird that sounded after the last syllable left your mouth. Inwardly, you cringed and hoped to god that she didn’t find that creepy. Thankfully, she gave you a smile and said, “sure!”

You took her to the bridge where your uncle had imparted his wisdom upon you. The walk there was filled with awkward silence, only broken erratically by your comments on the different shops. In the chilly Autumn air, you walked side by side with Yuna till you reached your destination.

“Wow…” Yuna muttered as you stopped at the apex of the bridge, “this is…”

“It’s prettier in Spring,” you told her.

“I can imagine that,” she whispered.

She placed her hands on the railings and leaned her body weight against it. You silently stood next to her, letting her take in the breathtaking scenery without disturbance. You had a hunch—The fact that cameras were always on her had been taking a toll on the idol. You figured she needed some time away from the cameras, a moment where she didn’t have to live with the fact that she was perpetually in the frame of a lens that was recording her every move.

You didn’t know what to do when the first teardrop came rolling down her face. When her body started to shake, you started to panic internally. That wasn’t part of the agenda. You awkwardly fumbled around, patting your pockets to see if you had any tissue to give her. By the time you had pulled out the small tissue packet from your pocket, the girl was already seated on the bridge, knees tucked in and arms locked around her legs as she bawled and bawled. Awkwardly, you sat down next to her. You maintained a distance from Yuna and silently slid your tissue over to her. The last thing you wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable in her moment of vulnerability.

You gave her time. Breakdowns like hers would never be finished in a matter of minutes, you knew from experience. The sheer internal bedlam a human could experience under certain circumstances was no joke.

It took some time, but her shoulders eventually stopped heaving so violently, her breaths becoming more uniformed in nature.

“I-I’m sorry… I-I just…” she started to apologise.

“It’s… It’s alright,” you assured her, “it… It must be tough for you.”

You gestured to the packet of tissue next to her. She gratefully accepted it, pulling out a couple of pieces to dry her eyes. There were no more words spoken between the two of you, only an odd, comfortably awkward silence in the air as you both sat with your backs to the railing. Yuna sniffled intermittently, and you could hear her drawing tissues to blow her nose.

You didn’t say anything to comfort her. But that day, you unwittingly made her start trusting you.

***

Dried apple slices.

That’s what Yuna had bought to share with you. She’d gotten them from Miss Cho’s, and had asked to eat them with you on the bridge after your shifts had ended.

“These are so good!” she exclaimed.

“Miss Cho’s family spent lifetimes perfecting their formula. It’s gotta be good,” you told her.

Yuna squealed happily as she dug her hand into the container and pulled out yet another slice. You could pinpoint the exact moment where the flavour of Miss Cho’s apple slices burst forth in her mouth. Her wide-eyed silent glee was your indication. On the railing of the bridge you sat, side by side with the idol. There was an unexplained affinity between you two since that day she cried next to you. Your interactions in the bookstore had increased, becoming friendlier in nature. It was like something suddenly clicked between the two of you.

“Man… These things make me want to live here forever!” Yuna laughed, kicking her legs like a child as she dug her hand into the container for yet another slice. You smiled as you watched her. She seemed more carefree that day.

“You’re from the city, right?” she asked you, popping another slice into her mouth.

“Yep… I’m just staying here for a while,” you explained to her.

“Don’t you have to search for a university?”

You kicked your legs and sighed. “I do… But that can always wait.”

Your truth—You didn’t want to leave this town. Life was much simpler, slower. You’d originally come here to recover, hatred and bitterness brimming in your heart. Now that it had been purged from your being, you found a connection with this humble, small town. You knew that you’d eventually have to leave, go back into the hustle and bustle of the city when you got back to your life as a city boy. You dreaded the arrival of that day.

You told this to her. A look of understanding crossed her face.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Since early Spring so… About a month now?” you replied.

“Ah… And what’s this bitterness that you had?” she pressed.

You took a dried apple slice and popped it into your mouth. You munched on it a little before replying, “I had to recover from a breakup.”

Yuna chuckled. “Ah… I suppose this place seems like a nice town to get back on your feet.”

You were glad she understood you.

“You know… This spot is really something,” she told you, “it’s so beautiful and calming… I really gotta thank you for showing it to me.”

You waved it off. “No problem.”

Yuna folded one leg up. “I came here with the girls once after that evening. It was a good break.”

She sighed heavily. You wiped your hand on your jeans.

“It must be tiring,” you said.

“Hm?”

She turned to look at you intently. You stared at your sneakers. The once snow white shoes had been dirtied by gravel and all sorts of elements, but you didn’t really mind.

“It must be tough living with no breaks… I imagine it can get pretty overwhelming,” you told her. Yuna stared off into the distance for a moment.

“When they told us that we would be coming here to take a break from our idol activities, I thought that we’d actually be able to rest…” she muttered, “then we saw the cameras and got handed those damn selfie sticks… That’s when I knew that we were just making more content while we’re supposedly ‘resting’.”

You could hear the spite in her voice. Your heart went out to her.

“I hate this,” she continued, “I just want to have a moment where I’m not dancing, where I’m not singing, where I’m not being recorded by some stupid fucking camera while I keep some pretty smile on my face.”

Her truth—There were times where she wondered whether the idol life was meant for her. While they existed, she couldn’t recall the last moment where she was just Shin Yuna, a regular nineteen year old girl finding her way in life. She liked the bookstore, it made her feel human. While she was going about her tasks, the sheer monotony of it all brought some semblance of regularity into her life. For a rare moment, she wasn’t just some money making machine for a company, she was just a regular human, like you. It gave her an unexplainable joy, a joy that was quickly stripped away when she turned and saw a camera being pointed right at her.

She told you this in hew own words. You bit your bottom lip.

“But of course, I can’t let that show, can I?” she laughed bitterly, “gotta be pretty preppy princess Yuna. Can’t be angry, can’t be annoyed, allowed to cry only in concerts or in interviews… Fuck all this idol shit.”

Her life didn’t sound as great as you’d imagined. You admittedly thought that many idols lived in luxury, showered with love and attention from fans worldwide while earning big bucks doing what they always aspired to. In reality, their lives were the most cruel and unforgiving, an endless cycle of practice, classes and content. They were always being watched and monitored. They maintained a happy, cheerful image for their fans, but deep down they just want to take a break for some time before coming back to this life of theirs. It sucked. It sucked big time, but they all lived with it.

The harm that humans could bring upon each other was frightening, yet the world was as such.

“I think you’re incredibly strong Yuna,” you voiced your sincere thoughts, “it takes a lot to be you. I don’t think many people can confidently look me in the eye and tell me that they’re fine with being watched twenty-four-seven, let alone pretend like everything is great with their life when it really isn’t.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “I… I think I really needed to hear that. You summed it up really well.”

She shot you a sincere smile. You chuckled softly and scratched the nape of your neck. There was a warm sensation on your face.

“You’re… Welcome I guess?” you told her. She laughed at that.

“You’re funny,” she remarked, “I like your company.”

The warmth on your face was now more of a burning sensation. You looked down at your sneakers, feeling a grin plastered on your lips. Her smile was as contagious as her joy.

“How… How long are you guys gonna be here for?” you asked her.

“I forgot... I only know that we’ll go back for Chuseok, then come back here for a few more weeks. We’ll be out of here by the middle of November if I recall correctly, then back to comeback preparation in early Winter,” she replied.

Time was a funny thing. It could go by so fast when you wanted it to be slow, but it could also drag on like a snail when you wanted it to be a rabbit. Time was a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.

In your heart, you prayed that Yuna’s time in this town wouldn’t be fleeting. In your heart, you prayed that time could show mercy on this girl.

***

Dried anchovies.

That’s what your uncle needed from Miss Lee, the general store owner, to cook the stew for that night's dinner. You shrugged on your jacket that evening and headed down to go buy what was needed. Mrs Lee greeted you with the usual warm smile, though you could tell that the Gopro on the counter was making her ill at ease.

The ITZY girls were there, talking amongst themselves as a camera man and a different lady producer stood behind them. You did your best to slip by undetected, snagging the bag of dried anchovies and a bottle of water without being spotted. You didn’t know that they’d follow them till this late.

You paid for the good and exited quietly. On the way back, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You spun around to come face to face with Yuna.

“Hey,” she beamed. She must’ve seen you. How did she get out?

“Oh. Hey,” you smiled back.

“Can we meet at the bridge later? I’d like to get some fresh air after my dinner,” she requested.

You smiled and agreed. You set a time, then split off in your own separate ways to go about your evenings. You couldn’t really focus on your uncle’s rambling that night, you mind drifting to Yuna’s smile while your uncle said something about the stock market.

9pm. That was the time you’d arranged to see her. On the pretext of taking a walk, you slipped out of your uncle's house and journeyed down the street towards the bridge. She was there by the time you’d gotten there, a bright smile that could light up the darkness gracing her features when she caught sight of you. She let you walk over to her before handing you something. It felt like a stick.

“What are these?” you asked.

“Lanterns,” she answered, turning hers on, “Chuseok is coming up. The Chinese like to carry lanterns and take walks on that day. I thought we should do something while I’m still in this town, make some memories, you know?”

The lanterns she had purchased were from Mrs Lee’s general store. Mrs Lee had always been obsessed with Chinese culture, particularly in terms of decorations and practices. She sold those lanterns all year round, even though no one really bothered to buy them.

You and Yuna walked around the town with your lanterns, talking and laughing, laughing and talking… It was a night to be alive. It was nice to see Yuna in this light. You’d grown out of your 2 dimensional perception of her, discovering the multitudes she possessed. On the surface, she was simply Shin Yuna, ITZY’s maknae and visual. Beneath that, there was Shin Yuna, the nineteen year old girl who could easily make someone smile and blush. Then beneath that was Shin Yuna, a nineteen year old girl who craved regularity, a nineteen year old girl who wanted to be momentarily freed from the glitz and glam. You were happy that she trusted you enough to be comfortable around you, and you were more than happy to have that gut feeling that she was truly being herself with you.

“This town is amazing…” she remarked as you found yourselves before the bridge once more. You’d walked a full round around the town by then, lost in conversation as you took turns down the roads on a whim.

“Maybe you should just move here,” you joked.

“Oh how I wish I could!” she sighed, “everything’s so nice here… I wish I could just stay here forever…”

I wish I could stay here forever. She always had a tendency to say that. While working in the bookstore, she’d let it slip. When you were talking with her on the bridge, she’d say it at least once. She struck you as someone who was vocal with their opinions, someone who would freely speak her mind if she could. You enjoyed listening to her long, rambling talks about her various life stories. Though you could never bear to listen to such rants from your uncle, you found hers enjoyable to listen to. There was a certain way she drew you in with her voice, your attention becoming captive to her tone and intonation while she went on and on…

When you parted ways with her that night, you found that you wanted her to stay and talk with you a little longer. Of course, you never vocalised this desire. She’d already broken rules to come out and see you that night, the last thing you wanted was to get her in trouble.

As you walked home with your lantern that night, you wondered what it would be like to date a girl like Yuna.

***

Drier air.

That’s what you felt had changed that late October morning when you stepped out of your uncle’s house.

“Aish… Winter is coming already,” your uncle grumbled, “time passes so fast these days… I ought to keep a better track of it.”

It was Yuna’s final weekend in the town. She was due to leave by Tuesday next week. As expected, Midzys showed up in front of the door, prompting your uncle and you to wrap around to the back entrance, where Yuna was waiting. The female producer and the cameraman were right there with her, asking the idol some questions in front of the backdoor as you and your uncle approached. Her eyes seemed to light up upon the sight of you, the smile on her face growing wider as she waved to you.

“Yuna, focus on the interview,” the producer reminded her sternly. She quickly set her gaze back on the camera. Your uncle waited patiently for them to wrap up with their questions before opening the backdoor to the bookshop. As you walked in, Yuna walked up to your right and whispered right into your ear. “10pm. Bridge. Don’t be late.”

You’d never wanted a shift to end so badly.

That night, you met her at your usual haunt. Her smile—Usually brimming with joy—was noticeably sadder, dimmer under the moon’s beam. It felt hard to accept that her time in this town was running thin. You wished that there was a way to extend your fleeting time with this woman, find a way to make some more memories with her. Alas, time could only move forward at a rate unknown to you. Autumn was slowly becoming Winter, and Yuna would soon be gone from this town. Every moment was now more precious than ever.

The truth you kept to yourself—Though your heart fluttered around her, you knew that you and her could only remain in this stage of friendship. Progressing forward to a new stage of a relationship would be hard. You could only hold on to her as a friend, hoping that she wouldn’t forget you when she returned back to the big city.

The two of you stayed out late that night, eating dried fruits from Miss Cho’s and drinking some Makgeolli that Yuna had bought and snuck out.

“My last day as a human,” she told you that night while cracking open the bottle, “then it’s back to being a doll…”

Human… Why could she never seem to prove to everyone else that she was human as well? The fame, the shining lights, the pedestal that she’d been placed on… They all created a false image for her. It brought forth a notion—She was privileged, someone who could receive the attention of fans and brands alike. There was no room for blemishes, her body “perfect” and her personality flawless. She had to accept all that, live with it without a fuss or hassle.

When she rambled about this, tears flowed freely from her eyes—Years of pent up anger, sentiments of unfairness and many other emotions coming forth in moonlit steaks that ran down her face. You poured her another glass of Makgeolli. She tossed it back to soothe the pain.

“You know… I always feel so comfortable with you,” she whispered, “it’s like I’m talking to an old friend… Someone who actually understands me.”

Under the stars that night, the two of you admittedly got a little tipsy on the bridge. Under the stars that night, Yuna had let slip her true feelings towards you. Under the stars that night, you two shared a kiss, one that would change the complexity of your relationship, spurred by the raw emotions of the night that had manifested through the catalyst that was alcohol.

As your fingers ran through her hair and her hands held on to your waist, she leaned on your shoulder and whispered some words into your ear. They weren’t words that you wanted to hear, but you knew that you’d just have to accept them.

It pained the both of you to know that you could never truly love each other the way you wanted to. The expectations of her company and of society set a boundary, one that kept you two so far yet so close. While you saw her as a regular human, she still had to abide by the rules and regulations of the company that controlled her. Those rules defined her, the regulations moulding her into something no longer human. It made her life strict and unforgiving.

She was like an unwilling puppet, trying in vain to resist the commands of those who had power over her. A sisyphean task it proved to be.

To them, she was an idol. And according to them—Idols and humans were not to love each other.

***

Dried flowers

That was what you held behind your back that morning where you saw the ITZY girls off. You and your uncle waited outside the house they stayed in, dried flowers tucked away behind you. Then they came out. The five of them, rolling out their luggages, dressed warmly to combat the rapidly dropping temperature. She caught sight of you. A sad, warm, gentle smile crossed her face. The bosses of the shops that the girls had worked for respectively had all come to bid farewell to them, giving you some time to talk to her one last time. The goodbyes were tearful, full of hugs and “I’ll miss you”s. Yuna gave your uncle a hug, then she turned to you. Surprisingly, neither of you shed a tear as you stared at each other.

You produced the dried flowers that you’d gotten from the florist and presented them to her.

“They’re beautiful,” she whispered as she accepted them.

“Glad you like them,” you replied, “try and keep them alive okay?”

She stared up at you for a moment.

When the first teardrop rolled down her face, you didn’t hesitate to pull her into a hug. She cried into your chest, a million and one apologies bursting forth as she held you tight. It was as if it was her fault that the two of you could not start a proper relationship. It was as if you’d disappear if she didn’t hold you as tight as she could.

When it was time to go, you dried her eyes to the best of your ability. She gripped the dried flowers tight, a grim look on her face as she said, “I’ll take some time to think about us… When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there.”

You smiled. “Alright then, I’ll wait.”

She fiddled with the wrapping of the dried flowers.

“Till then,” Yuna requested, “could I be selfish and ask you to hold on to these feelings?”

You smiled and assured her that you’d try to. When we meet again, I’ll let you decide if we should kiss or not, she told you.

In the cold morning air, you made a then-and-there decision to share one last kiss with her, not caring about the fact that staff and her other members were present at the scene. As the van took her away from the town, your uncle placed a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked you.

You wiped a tear from your eye and whispered, “I hope those dried flowers won’t die as quickly as they did last time.”

***

The cold snap hit when you came back to the town. A fresh, fluffy and thick sheet of snow covered the streets. Your boots made a satisfying crunch with each step you took, the frigid winter air biting your face as you hurried towards the bookstore. All around you, people walked up and down the street. City people—you recognised their accents.

You found it hard to adjust back to life in the city. The roar of the traffic was jarring, making you yearn for the quiet of the town streets. The pavements were jam packed with people, making you long to return to the empty streets of your uncle's humble town. The subway was packed like sardines, making you think about the times where you could get to wherever you wanted on foot. It was safe to say that you had some forms of withdrawal symptoms, but you eventually got over it. Then university came. The workload was immense, the readings mountainous. It took you some time to figure out a way to efficiently cover all the content you needed to, but you eventually found your footing. You were in your last year now. Time was truly so fleeting, a wave, almost cruel in its relentlessness.

Now that you were back in this familiar place, a sense of comfort filled your being. Not much had changed over the course of your four year absence. Aside from the fresh coats of paint and increase in tourists, everything was just as they were when you left.

The bookshop was teeming with life when you entered. You were pleasantly surprised. You remembered your uncle telling you about how good the winter crowds were, but you ever imagined it to be this good. You hurriedly removed your scarf and coat before approaching the counter. There, your uncle was busy packing book after book into paper bags. You hung your coat on the coat rack and grabbed an apron.

“I’m back,” you said, taking your place next to your relative. Your uncle cast a glance towards you.

“I’ll greet you later. Busy now,” he mumbled. You chuckled and tied the strings of your apron behind your back.

It didn’t take long before you settled back into that old rhythm—Open, pack, take the bills. Open, pack, take the bills. It brought an odd sense of joy into your heart. You’d missed the monotony of this life.

The bookstore closed a little later that day. You waited till the last customer had slipped out into the cold evening air to flip the sign from “open” to “closed”. Then you shut the door behind you.

“I should really employ a part timer,” your uncle mused. He beat his lower back with a clenched fist. “The crowds are only growing these days… I’ll need some help.”

Then he waddled over you. With a warm smile, your uncle pulled you into a warm embrace.

“Welcome back, nephew. It’s good to see you again.”

You hugged him back. The usual old people's statements ensued—How have you been? You’ve grown taller! Jeez… You’ve gotten a little more plump! Have you been eating well? The same old questions were hurled at you. You were happy to answer them all.

You helped your uncle close up shop for the day. To celebrate your return, he took you down to Mrs Han’s to have a barbeque. The restaurant owner greeted you with her wrinkly, warm smile and welcomed you back to town. The meat was fresh, well marbled and tender. Freshly imported Mrs Han had told you, they just came in today! You came back at the right time!

It was safe to say that your belly was filled that night. Mrs Han had kindly put the cost of the meal on the house, and your uncle hurried you out of the restaurant when you insisted on paying.

“It’s rare for her to be this generous. Accept it while you can,” he told you. You rolled your eyes. He was as thrifty as always.

Your uncle took you to the bridge that night. Proper lighting had been installed on it, small yet powerful lamps illuminating the path as you and your uncle stood side by side on the apex of the bridge. The river was frozen over, the trees around it bald and bare.

“You should’ve came back in the spring,” he remarked, “there were more flowers this time. It was beautiful.”

“I can imagine that,” you replied.

Your uncle sighed heavily, a sizable cloud forming before his face. “You know… She came back this spring.”

“Is that so?” you replied alarmingly calmly. Your voice betrayed your emotions. It felt like a small ball was caught in your throat. “How is she?”

“She seems alright, definitely grew a few centimetres,” he told you.

“Is she healthy?” you pressed.

“She definitely looked a little more plump in the face. She’s seemed a lot stronger,” your uncle replied.

Silence hung between the two of you. Then your uncle inquired, “You never managed to see her in the city, did you?”

You lowered your gaze to the frozen water.

“No…” you grimaced, “I… I could never find a way to see her.”

The truth—It felt like fate was against you. You could never secure a ticket to any of her performances, nor could you ever get into any of her fanmeets—Online and physical. You never expected that you’d face such difficulty in trying to see Yuna, but you persevered nonetheless. When the university workload came in however, you found your free time had been stripped from you, tossed out to the wind as assignment after assignment plagued your days. Yuna couldn’t be your top priority no matter how much you wanted her to be. You didn’t know why the idea of getting her phone number never crossed your mind while she was with you. Then again, exchanging phone numbers could have landed her in trouble…

You told this to your uncle. He nodded silently.

“I guess we were never meant to be a thing,” you whispered dejectedly, “I was a fool to hold on to those memories”

Your uncle sighed and patted your shoulder. “Some memories never heal. Rather than fading with the passage of time, those memories become the only things that are left behind when all else is abraded…”

“Han Kang,” you muttered. It was one of the quotes from her book Human Acts. You had a paper on that book coming next term. Your time at the bookstore made you discover your love for books, hence you pursued a degree in Literature in university.

“You remember,” your uncle chuckled. It was one of the first books that he’d made you read. “Your memory serves you well, nephew.”

The quote he’d recited could be interpreted in many ways. In the context of the book, the protagonist spoke of their memories in the bloody Gwangju massacre in 1981. The sights, sounds and horrors left them scarred for life, so scarred that they’d take them to the grave—hence the usage of heal in memories never heal. Healing meant forgetting.

For you, healing meant forgetting too. The only difference—You didn’t want to heal. You wanted to keep those memories carved into your brain, make them a permanent part of your being. You wanted to ingrain that smile in your vision, keep that voice playing on loop in your ears. You were more than willing to take those memories to your grave.

“First a breakup, now this,” you muttered, “am I not built for love, uncle?”

“Everyone is built for love,” came his instant reply, “it’s just a matter of finding the right person to receive love from.”

The right person…

Your parents were meant to follow you on this visit back to the town, but last minute work held them up in the city. They’d found an Airbnb house in the town for the three of you, but now you had it to yourself. As you laid down on the bed, you found that the silence was deafening.

Silently, you wondered what’d be like to date a girl like Yuna. She felt like the right person.

Maybe all of those emotions were just teen hormones. Maybe the feelings were just bright out in the heat of the moment. Maybe you didn’t actually love her, maybe it was more of an infatuation. It all sounded logical and reasonable to you.

Yet when you saw her again, all of that no longer seemed to make sense.

There she stood in the cold winter morning, scarf around her neck and a pair of earmuffs atop her head. In her gloved hands, a bright pink tote bag, a bouquet of flowers sticking out from the opening. She stood before the store, staring at the closed shutter, mouth parted ever so slightly. Her hair—Red when you first saw her—Had been returned to its natural colour. She was as beautiful as the day you said goodbye to her.

You swore that your eyes were deceiving you. When she turned her head, you were convinced that her jaw dropped open as wide as yours when the two of you locked eyes.

Then in the next moment, she was in your arms. She had her ear pressed to the left side of your chest, as if she needed to hear your heartbeat to verify that you were truly there.

“Hey,” was all you could manage.

“Hi,” she whispered back, “it’s been awhile.”

Her eyes gleamed with the same childlike wonder. Her smile was as genuine as you’d remembered. You wanted to kiss her to see if her lips would feel the same, but…

When we meet again, I’ll tell you what you mean to me. We can go off from there…

She did give you the freedom of choice to kiss her when you reunited, but you decided against it.

Catchup was done in the warm respite of the bookstore. With aprons adorning your bodies, you filled each other in on what you’d missed in each other's lives. This was all done to the backdrop of filling in shelves and rearranging stacks of books. Lunch came and your uncle left the two of you on your own. You got some tteokbokki with her from Mrs Han’s—to go of course—and hit your old spot.

“Even without the leaves, this place is still so stunning,” she mused, staring out at the frozen water.

“I still prefer it in Spring,” you told her, “I like it better when the trees are less… Bald.”

She laughed at that.

When the sun started to set on the small town, your uncle made the executive decision to close up early. The sun may be gone, but the night is young he told you with a wink. You gave him a grateful smile and took off your apron. He let the two of you go off early that day.

Dinner that night was once again at Mrs Han’s, and she wasn’t so generous that night. A walk around town was what she asked for afterwards, both of your footsteps seemingly synchronised to produce rhythmic crunches in the snow. At one point, she’d stopped walking to gather up a handful of snow, forming a hefty snowball to chuck at you. You didn’t hesitate to fight back.

“University sounds tough,” she mused, munching on some grapes from Miss Cho’s.

“I think it’s just my course,” you remarked, “the rest of my batchmates seem to be having a relatively good time.”

“Literature is demanding,” she agreed, “but what do you wanna do with it in the future?”

You sighed and shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, “I’m still figuring that out…”

“Maybe you can become a writer,” she suggested, “write some screenplay… Make it different from the usual stuff.”

“I’d probably need to save up some money before I do that,” you chuckled, “I have a degree that guarantees a higher chance of living on the streets than living on someone’s couch.”

She laughed at that too. Then she said, “hey, maybe you should come work for my company when you’re done with university. That way, we can see each other more often too.”

You chuckled. “That’s a possibility… I’ll try and keep that in mind.”

“I’ll make sure to vouch for you,” she declared, “the big boss likes me enough to listen to me…”

You laughed and nodded. Silence hung between you two.

Then it was time for the hard question.

“So are you seeing anyone?” you asked her. Yuna licked a grape seed off her lips before answering.

“I’d like to think so…”

Your heart sank, but you still cocked your head in feigned curiosity, “oh? What do you mean?”

Yuna bit down on her lip. “I mean… I like him, but I’m not sure if he still likes me.”

“Ah,” you mused.

“Yea…” Yuna sighed. She looked up at you and asked, “what about you?”

You took a moment to formulate an answer. “I think… I’m just waiting for love as of now.”

“Ah,” Yuna parroted, “well… I wish you the best in that then.”

There was a sudden tension in the air. It was like your respective cryptic messages had conjured a rubber band of the mind, pulling it out to its maximum length as you continued your silent journey down the street. Perhaps your hopes were set a little too high—You’d expected her to remember the love that existed four years ago, run back into your open arms so that you could shower her with kisses. But you’d forgotten—No… Chose to forget what she’d told you on the bridge that night.

I love you. I know that it’s too late for this, but I love you. I’m sorry we can’t love in the same way others do, but do know that deep down, I wish to love you in the same manner that you love me. It’s confusing, I know… But my life doesn’t allow us to share the life we want to. I’m sorry.

It was a painful thing to hear, but you still kissed her right afterwards, and you still kissed her the morning after. You now realised that perchance, you’d gambled a little too much, gone all in with the chips of your heart only to lose. You didn’t understand why she couldn’t date freely, be with someone that truly made her happy. She was a human, a human deserved to give love and be loved.

She got a call a few minutes later. It’s my manager. I gotta go now.

She gave you a small wave, handed you the last few grapes from the container. Then, with a it was nice seeing you again, Yuna turned on her heel and walked off. The grapes felt oddly heavy in your hands. Again, she was to disappear from your life. Like grains of stars in an infinitely expanding galaxy, she spilled through the gaps between your fingers once more. This felt like a scenario you’d read in books a thousand times over, and frankly, it sucked.

But happiness is being able to hope, however faintly, for happiness. So, at least, we must believe if we are to live in the world of today.

Osamu Dazai had said that. You weren’t sure why you thought of it as you watched her back get smaller and smaller by the second.

Hoping faintly for happiness? Is that what I’m meant to do? You asked yourself. She was getting further by the second. Hoping faintly for a chance that she’d turn back, you stood there. She never did.

Hoping faintly…

No. You wouldn’t settle for that.

The grapes fell from your hands as you ran towards the girl that you’d so hoped to see again. Four long years you’d tried and failed. Now, with the opportunity right in your grasp, you were certain that you had to make something out of it.

In three more bounds, you were right behind her. Yuna you called, grabbing her by the shoulder. You didn’t give her time to say anything before you turned her around and planted your lips on hers. She yelped, her body tensing as you held her cheeks in the cradle of your palms.

A quiet smack resonated when your lips parted. Yuna trembled in your grasp, teary eyes gazing into yours.

“I’ve been waiting for your love Yuna,” you admitted to her, “for four years, I tried to see you again but I just never could. We said that we wanted to sort out what we meant to each other when we met again, but we failed to do that today. Tell me Yuna—What am I to you?”

She let out a shuddery breath, the smell of grapes saturating the air.

“I-I have to go,” she muttered.

You were tired of waiting.

“Yuna please,” you begged.

She looked away, as if contemplating if she should give you her answer.

“You… You are who I want to love,” she whispered, “I-I thought that… Maybe I was too selfish to ask you to keep loving me for all these years. I-I guess I didn’t expect this selfishness to be rewarded.”

“It isn’t selfish,” you corrected her, “it’s… It’s human Yuna. The desire to want someone to keep loving you, that’s human.”

Her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. “Right… I can only feel like a human when I’m with you.”

Suddenly, nothing else in the world seemed to matter. You pulled her in once more, holding her as tight as she did on the day she left your life. You kissed her, tender and passionate as she gripped the fabric of your jacket. Her perfume was sickly sweet, intoxicating and lulling you deeper into her body as she reciprocated the kiss. Her hair, cold and slightly damp from the snowball you threw at her, was silky, smooth to run your fingers through. The repeated dying of it had definitely affected its quality, but only in the slightest.

Her voice was strained when your lips parted, but you could clearly make out what she’d said.

I don’t want to go back tonight. I want to be here with you.

When the first teardrop rolled down her cheek, you didn’t hesitate to wipe it away.

“You’d be breaking some rules won’t you?” you questioned.

“I’ve broken them before. I can always break them again,” she replied, “humans were made to break some rules after all…”

With a smile, you let your hand slip into hers. It was warm, just like any other human. In her eyes, there was a gleam that every other human could possess. In her smile, there was a sincerity and joy that any other human could show. Sure, the Dispatch article that posted the photo of you kissing Yuna did call it the unexpected relationship between a top idol and a civilian.

But in your eyes, Yuna was as human as anyone could ever be.

Dried things and humanity—An unlikely combination for a love story, but it was certainly fit to start the first chapter of your story with Yuna.

_______________________

Hello! A rare, smutless Yuna fic has mad its way onto my blog. I know it'll disappoint a lot of you guys, but this is what I wanted to write, so here we are. Hope you guys enjoy this one. Take a break from the horny and have some simple love <;3.

~Lots of love, Nichuuu

#shin yuna #itzy yuna #fanfic #writing #kpop #fluff #itzy fluff #kpop fluff

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strawhbrrries · 11 months

Text

Delicate, i

pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x innocent!afab!reader

summary: a sweet older gentleman moves into the house next door, or rather a few acres away. he spends a few evenings with your dad and consequently earns the attention of a much younger girl, you.

warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 46), protective dad???, no use of y/n, not proofread

word count: 972 words

author’s note: here is the very first part of delicate and i really hope you guys love it! not too much action, entirely just set up for frank and peach's future endeavors and relationship. please enjoy! mwah!

tag list: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

find the masterlist here! read the next part here!

The first evening Frank Castle had visited your home you weren’t there, off galavanting around with some of your friends in a nearby town. Your presence in the home was obvious to Frank, from the scented hand soaps by every sink to the baby pink door down the hall from the kitchen and finally, the big picture of you and your father that hung in the living room. He didn’t think much of any of it, a single dad living with his daughter was nothing out of the ordinary.

He’d met you in the driveway hours later when he went to leave, you had just pulled into your usual spot in the gravel. He was still leaning on the bed of his truck talking to your father, who reprimanded you for being out so late.

“How old are you?” Frank asked, tilting his head to the side as his eyes scanned over your frame. He figured you were still young, maybe twenty at best, by the picture in the living room. Even in the dark he could see the blush that crept up your neck from his attention.

“Twenty-two.” Your voice was quiet, your dad’s friends never spoke to you much. The man in front of you was nothing short of a sex dream, you’d never had one but if you looked at him any longer you were sure to have one soon.

“What’s your name?” The amount of questions he was asking was making you nervous, the small town you lived in meant everyone knew everyone. Newcomers weren’t very often and even then they were never your neighbors, sure he lived acres away from you but it was still…new.

Your dad interrupted whatever words were going to come out of your mouth and formally introduced you, it felt childish for him to do the work. The blush was turning a deeper shade, this time from embarrassment.

“She just goes by Peach though, has since she was itty bitty.” Your dad laughed, playfully hitting your arm.

You said your goodnights and walked towards the house, turning around to give Frank a second glance. Your eyes made contact with his, the blush was burning at this point. You closed the front door behind you, leaned against it, and exhaled loudly. This was the only friend your dad ever had over that was insanely handsome and spoke to you.

The second evening Frank Castle visited your home, you were there. You had just finished showering, the smell of vanilla and honey wafting through the house as he came inside. You hadn’t heard him coming in, leading to the confrontation in the hallway. Only clad in a towel that was hanging on for dear life. Eyes wider than a deer who had been caught in headlights. Frank cleared his throat, trying to avoid looking at you.

“My dad is out back, uhm I didn’t hear you come in.” Your hands rushing to hold the towel tighter against your skin, the same blush creeping up your neck.

“Nah, it’s my fault. Apologies, honey.” He scratched at the beard on his neck, clearing his throat once again before making an indication he was going to leave to find your dad.

You rushed to your room to get dressed, absolutely mortified that he’d seen you like that. You weren’t religious by any means but no man, or boy, had ever seen you in anything less than a swimsuit. A swimsuit that covered most everything at that. The guilt had flooded you almost instantly, you hadn’t done anything wrong and yet you felt the need to to repent of your actions. Frank, on the other hand, had been glad to have gotten a glimpse. The small conversation he had with you the very first night had intrigued him, the picture on the wall of your living room was nothing compared to you standing in front of him. Blushing from head to toe in a frilly pink dress.

He asked your dad about the pink, got some half-assed answer about how you never truly grew up. Frank figured it was because your dad never let you, meant more help around the ranch so he never complained about the girliness that overtook the house. The more he learned about you the more he wanted to twist everything you knew about yourself and the world. He’d take the title of a twisted man if it meant corrupting you. You’d never had a real drink of alcohol, never had sex, never did anything that Frank considered fun. You needed fun, he decided.

The third night Frank Castle visited your home solidified his decision. He’d moved out to a small Texas ranching town to get out of his head, move from everything he knew. He, however, didn’t realize he’d meet a sweet thing like you that he couldn’t get out of his head. He spent just as many evenings in the local bar trying to find another woman, more his age, to get you out. Nothing worked, no matter who he fucked you stayed there. Clouding his thoughts. Sweet Peach who didn’t know a thing about how dirty an old man could be.

You’d been tending to the small flower beds in front of the house, bent over in the mulch that was sticking to your knees, when you heard his truck pull up. The gravel crunching under his tires overpowering the song you were humming softly. You turned around to give him a small wave, your signature sweet smile proudly on display. He simply nodded his head and watched as you turned back around to tend to the flowers, eyeing the way your shorts hugged your ass when you bent all the way over. No way in hell was he going to change his mind, not even if it meant going to hell.

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harrysonlylover · 9 months

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The Joker And The Queen

In which Harry is a florist, has a crush on the baker next door and dreads his Birthday.

Trope: Florist!H

Wc: 3.2k

A/n: This has been in my drafts since Feb, so why not..

Main Masterlist

Feb 1, a year earlier

The chime of the bell alerted Harry of a visitor, prompting him to spare a glance and shift his focus from the Lavender Bouquet he’s preparing. Its odor was enough to wake ‘Tom’, the street’s lazy orange cat and stand at the front of the shop inspecting the source of the smell, delicately detecting it with his nose.

The foreign tourist moved around admiring all the displayed plants from orchids to sunflowers, Jasmines and cactus, gypsophilia in all their mighty colors standing tall and proud itching for a bride to hold them. Small pots of Rubber fig, Snake plant and Succulent lay side by side near the sun in an order almost fit for a theater play, he placed them this way on purpose to give them love from the yellow shiny star and the buyers who are only ever interested in flowers.

He finished wrapping up the Bouquet with a pink bow tie and admired his work for a minute before snapping a picture of it with his polaroid camera and hanging it on the wall next to the other beauties.

The tourist got distracted with ‘Tom’ and their child who threw a rampage upon seeing the floof ball, eventually they both left as the cat strolled toward Harry rubbing up against his leg, sniffing the oh wonderful smell of Lavender he caught earlier.

“It’s okay maybe they’ve had a bad experience with cats.” He told the cute pet who seemed to not care as he yawned and stretched his paws before sliding in an empty pot to resume his nap.

Harry puckered his lips feeling like an idiot for conversing with a cat. Who spends their birthday selling flowers and comforting an animal. Is that miserable? It has to be the dream life in someone’s world.

What are Birthdays for anyway? He thought as he swept the floor from the fallen leaves and petals.

He ages everyday and every hour, with the marks of adulthood lingering around every corner, whether it be the loneliness he experiences, or watching little kids pick flowers for each other as he gets hit by a whiff of nostalgia.

Every waking day is a reminder that he’s not the little boy from Holmes Chapel anymore, he can’t for the love of god remember his hometown. It resides somewhere in his mind deep down, perhaps he can recall its plants, that would be much easier.

He never realized how far and lost he was in the adult world until he remembered his old life, mundane hobbies he maintained that were his entire focus. Now he wouldn’t even recall doing them.

His memory drifts away to his 10th birthday, his mom organized a small party in their apartment, where he only invited 3 friends (more like his only friends). That day is his favorite memory, the taste of the chocolate vanilla cake on his tongue as he goofed and danced around, then chased his friends with the Spiderman toy his mom got him.

Funny how things change he thought, he can go out now and buy himself that very same toy but he won’t get his 10th birthday back. He envies people who wait excitedly for their birthday and plan the entire day feeling joyous about saying goodbye to another year of their life.

He isn’t pessimistic really, not at all, he just finds it hard sometimes to delight in the same things as ordinary people.

Tom began snoring in the pot and Harry rubbed his head before watering the thirsty plants. The sun today is stretching along the coast with bluebirds roaming around town, announcing a wake-up call to all living things to witness this glorious day.

At least he loves the fact that his Birthday is a gift from nature, there’s this breeze that feels like summer and spring had an affair, it penetrates his nostrils combined with the fresh odor of flowers that he picks himself every other week. A gentle embrace of the sun is always present and he can’t help but stand at the front of his shop and bask his face in it.

For a moment or two the weather held his hand and showed him places he’d never been to before, quietly taking in the sound of by passers lightly smiling from sonder.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled him away from his daydream. He opened his eyes and balanced himself on the door having not been prepared for such a sight.

She stood in front of him wearing denim salopettes matched with a floral tee with her hair braided and tied using a pink bow (just like the one he uses for his flowers)

His body went numb for a few seconds saving in her broad smile at the front of his brain (he’ll replay the scene later on)

Her dimple got wider as she looked into his forest eyes struck by the sun, a tiny furrow appeared near his eyebrows but got overshadowed by his chocolate mop of curls.

“H—hi” he uttered shyly like a schoolboy swiftly moving the curls from his face, he can’t be daydreaming because his crush is quite literally in front of him.

“May I come in?” she asked with another one of her smiles that he melts for, he immediately moved inviting her inside his green haven, as he almost stumbled on his face due to a pot having been distracted with gazing at her.

He grew to know her as the lovely baker with the shop facing him, he even developed a sweet tooth because of his tendencies to drop by every other day for something she bakes.

“So how’s your day so far?” she questioned as she scratched Tom’s chin.

“Hmm pretty average I guess.” He placed his hands in his pockets awkwardly as he suddenly forgot how to act normally.

“Oh no, an average day for the birthday boy?” She exclaimed with a gasp, turning her attention to Harry’s face that turned tomato red.

His girl crush remembering his birthday was the last thing he expected. Usually she’d come in for fresh bouquets she purchases for her bakery. It was either Sunflowers, Hyacinth or Tulips.

Harry had a thing for solitude. Don’t get him wrong, selling flowers to people is somehow satisfying, but considering he is a stranger to the locals in this small Swiss town, he isn’t much of a talker. He likes to have his daily cup of tea in the morning, take a walk in the field located near his house, visit his friend’s place and then there’s her.

He never even had a sweet tooth, but after his unexpected craving for muffin one night (later on he’ll realize that it was just homesickness) , he found himself putting on his shoes and roaming the cobble streets of the town for shops that are still open.

Even though her shop was closed for customers, she opened the door when she saw a lost face outside, with a warm aura and not a good choice of words.

“Do you perhaps have a leftover muffin?” His words caused her crooked teeth appear with a smile that made him forget about any pastry in the world.

Ever since then he’d come up with any excuse to pass by and have a muffin to go, a cupcake, maybe coffee or even that delicious baguette that he can’t have breakfast without. It doesn't matter what he picks up as long as he sees her.

Harry gets pulled back to the present with her smile that somehow has the ability to help him to think straight. He still hasn’t processed the fact that she knows his birthday date.

“I—uh how do you know it’s my birthday?”. An obvious blush creeps up his cheeks as he bites his bottom lip and hides his hands in his pockets to conceal the excited fidgeting.

“Remember when you forgot your wallet at my shop? Your ID slipped out and I swear I wasn’t snooping, it really did. My eyes landed on the date.” She explained with caution adamant to clarify that she isn’t a creep.

One thing about her is that she loves making eye contact, and he could barely survive her smile, let alone her coffee irises.

“I hope I didn’t overstep-“

“No! not at all. Thank you for remembering.” Only if he knew that she’s been counting down the days and marking the calendar to reach February.

The tension could be cut with her baking knife, and the best thing he could think of doing is scrambling to anxiously rummage the drawers in the shop, for the flower crown he made her.

It was crafted using dried tulips, jasmines, poppies and carnations with a hint of pink gypsophilia. It was anything but easy to make, but she doesn’t have to know that.

He showed it to her with an eager dimpled smile, and when her words got stuck in her throat, his hand shakily placed it on her head then fixed the loose strands of her messy hair.

“I thought I was the one supposed to get you a gift.” Her eyes shifted to the ground with an echoing laughter as his eyes raked her crowned head with admiration.

“I’ve been meaning to give it to you anyways.” He scratched his neck awkwardly , and stretched his beige cardigan up to his palms, feeling the country air swift inside his store and caress both of their bodies.

Even though no one is looking, not even the by passers who are enamored with the flowers, they are very much exposed to the orange cat who is judging their ability to communicate and maybe finally kiss?

“Thank you H, really.” Her whisper was barely heard but he was busy repeating his nickname she created in his head.

He never really had a nickname, everyone called him Harry, just Harry. She always made the most mundane things appear as the most beautiful. Who would’ve thought his initial would sound so good?

“I made you something.. a huge cinnamon roll plate, just for you.” She poked his dimple loving how excited the news made him.

“With honey?!”

“Yes! The way you like it.” Tom was now standing between them, taking too much interest in the stubborn pair of idiots.

The last time someone had thought of him, and decided to give him something on his birthday as small as a cupcake was on his 18th birthday, when his mom cried and promised to always make him cupcakes on his day, even if he was leaving to another country.

The butterflies in his stomach, fluttered up to his heart, passing by his lungs and knocking the air out of them as he stared at the crowned girl in front of him with hearts popping out of his eyes.

Idiots in love, Tom thinks.

She finally broke the silence and leaned forward to his face pressing a long warm kiss to his cheeks. “Pass by at 11 for your gift. Happy Birthday H.”

Feb 1, a year later

He’s laying on his stomach, his arms spread with soft puffs of air leaving his slightly parted raspberry lips. His skin is bare of clothing, it has always been his preference even if it gets cold.

The white sheets reek of gardenia detergent that is outpowered by the various number of bouquets distributed around the room and on the balcony. The curtains are swiftly dancing with the wind allowing the yellow star to sneak in and cascade a shade along his soft skin and lighten his chestnut curls.

Tom is lazily stretching on the carpet as he will continue to do so all day, but in a different room after he terrorizes the house in search for extra food and love.

The girl enters the bedroom with a tray in her hands, her steps are calculated to avoid waking her lover as her silk robe hugs her naked body. She’s been up since dawn to prepare the dough, it’s a secret recipe passed by through generations. Simply let the poor dough rest. But it wasn’t just that, she also had to pour her love in it, mend it well with her fingers and drizzle the honey on top that she harvested herself.

She leaves the tray aside knowing that Tom will not approach it as he recognizes the sweet scent and is aware that it is not for him, which he expresses by turning his rear side to his parents.

She climbs on their shared bed as softly as she can, admiring her sleepy boy who must be dreaming about cinnamon rolls. The blue duvet is slowly peeled off his body as she gently starts leaving kisses on his back. Although it’s usually him who does that, this time she’s one step forward ahead of him with honey drizzled on her lips that leaves its marks with every kiss.

He's a heavy sleeper but his nervous system is accustomed to her touch and kisses , so it is no wonder when he wakes up a few moments after her lips meet his body as the honey sticks.

“Happy Birthday honey.” She whispers against his neck, causing a huge grin to immediately form on his face. He doesn’t care if he’s barely awake or is trying to register his surroundings. She’s here, next to him and she’s wishing him a happy birthday.

“It’s the first of February?” He asks as he shifts on his back and pulls her body against him. He had a habit of not looking at the calendar or remembering the days unless it was her birthday which he will instinctually know, or if she has an important event.

Another small secret is that his disinterest in calendars or the names the of days only began after he met her as it wouldn’t matter what day it is, since he got to see her every day. It intensified when she became his lover.

Was it Monday? No maybe Wednesday? Why should he care anyway? It will begin with her and end with her. The love will radiate for days , months even years. So whether it be the 20th century or the 21st it won’t matter, she’s right next to him in this moment. Time has become irrelevant.

“Yes Birthday boy, I made you something..” Her face hovered over his, as his eyes adoringly shifted to the honey coating her lips. He pulled her in closer till their atoms touched as he began kissing over neck and face.

The honey trick. It was his really, but he didn’t mind her doing it. As an avid fan of honey, he had lots of jars in his house and much to his surprise, she liked bees and would occasionally participate in harvesting, but oh of course she would!

She’s his other half.

He began using honey to get her to be close to him at all times, by smearing it on his lips or fingers then touching her. It didn’t make her mad, she was covered in his love. What’s not to like?

When she asked him why he does it he simply said: “I want you to be sticking to me and honey is my ally.”

Tom interrupted their moment of love by expressing his disgust with meowing. According to him, the two idiots would have always found their way to each other, but that’s cat intel that he can’t share with the readers.

“So what do you want to do today.” She finally managed to speak after he took his time with the morning kisses along with ‘sticking’ himself to her lips.

“Spend it with you.” He replied without hesitation.

“You spend everyday with me.”

“Then spend it with you outdoors.” He shrugged before swiping his finger above her lip, catching leftover honey and licking it.

“Well the shop is closed today, maybe we could have a picnic in the field and I—“She stopped midsentence upon the feeling of something poking her thighs.

“H.. did you just get a boner.” She raised her eyebrows and delicately moved her fingers along his hips to rile him up.

“It’s a love boner!” He defends himself the best he can.

“I see.. maybe we should do something about it then..” His eyes gleam like a puppy waiting for his treat. He immediately surrenders his body to her, just like he always does while she pulls the duvet above them and they both sink in their love bubble.

The shower is on.

She’s in there washing what their love caused, along with the sticky honey all over her body. Harry is still in bed, breathing in and out of his lungs trying not to get suffocated from his love for her.

He loves being under the water with her and lathering honey soap all over each other, which is why he has to do this quickly.

His feet pad across the floor as he looks in his drawer for the mini leather notebook. He can hear the water hitting the tiles and her humming in the background which motivates him to get this done.

He opens the notebook and looks at where he left off and opens a new page instead as he picks up his favorite writing pen.

‘February 1st 2023

Did I ever mention that she was the one to start it that night? Our relationship. I was too busy admiring and she was too busy planning, another reason why we fit like Lego pieces. I don’t make confessions that often, maybe to her every now and then but I must admit that I like my birthday now. It didn’t faze me before, it meant nothing but now it makes me look up to all the upcoming birthdays I get to spend with her. I don’t know how the poets do it… being able to describe love and all that stuff. If they were actually in love, then they’d know that it leaves you speechless with nothing to say or do. I worry that I do not say enough to her, but she then assures me that silence is our thing in her own way. That night when she kissed me, then invited me to her shop at night, helped me realize that I want her and need her. No, she did not ask me on a date, I did but if not for her simple gesture I would’ve been miserable for eternity. Once you get a taste of what’s sweet, you’ll never abandon it. That’s how I feel about her. Now, maybe the story of how everything progressed is for another time or even how we adopted ungrateful Tom, but for now she’s waiting.”

He places the notebook back in the drawer and throws the pen in there before his feet guide him to the wide bathroom, where her voice could be heard humming. He wondered if the bluebirds visit them because of her.

He fetches towels for them from the closet not forgetting to take a bite from the cinnamon roll that’s neglected on the tray.

He pops his head inside and calls her with her designated nickname.

“Honeyyyyy…?”

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jackhues · 5 months

Text

3 + 1 - sidney crosby

notes: i hope you guys like this, first fic for 'it's the most wonderful time of the year', had lots of fun making this!!

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

part of naqia's end of the year celly!

gif not mine

i. (1994)

you'd known sidney your entire life. one of the first memories you had with him was fighting him for the last hockey stick in the store.

well, it wasn't the last hockey stick. but it was the last one of all the types you used to play. it just so happened to be the only one sidney used.

after a game of rock, paper, scissors (you won), sidney got mad and demanded a best of three. maybe it was the defiant look in his eyes at only seven years old, but you decided he could have the stick.

"are you sure?" he asked, now looking hesitant about taking the stick.

you nodded, "i'm sure. they'll get one of the sticks i use in a few days. you can have this one. i'll just steal my brother's stick until then."

sidney grinned, "thanks, y/n."

you smiled back at him, feeling the start of a friendship. you'd lived near him your entire life, but you'd only begun talking to him because of hockey.

"just don't forget to send me a card when you go to one of your tourneys," you told him.

you and sidney laughed over that, before heading back home with your parents. it was after this day that you began to say hi to each other in the halls of school, that you decided to pair up for projects, that you became friends.

over the two months it took until christmas morning, you forgot about what you'd told him. but sidney didn't forget his promise.

and it was on december twenty fifth, that you received a post card in the mail from some place in quebec. a seven year old sidney had tried his best to make the letters look pretty, writing on the side, 'merry christmas, and thanks for the hockey stick, y/n. it helped me win!'

you peered in the envelope, finding a picture of sidney hoisting his giant hockey trophy. you smiled at that.

even though he was so far away, it felt like you were celebrating christmas together.

ii. (2004)

'sidney patrick crosby, you have got to be kidding me! you have a huge hotel, you're in finland, and you've got some of the best people with you. and yet, you're saying you wished you were here playing pond with the rest of us? you're crazy. anyways, make sure you score a goal or something, and have lots of fun! honestly, not scoring is fine if you have fun. good luck at the world juniors! i'll be cheering you on from back home :))'

you signed off the letter, sealing it and placing it to the side to deliver later.

at seventeen years old, sidney had become the only under-18 player at this year's world junior tournament for team canada. it was a thing to celebrate, but sidney was upset he would be missing the town's annual christmas pond hockey game.

you and him had played together on the same team for the last nine years, winning every time. this was the first time he wouldn't be here to help your team defend the title.

but that was okay, you thought as you packed up your christmas gear and made your way to the pond.

because sidney was going to play on your t.v. tomorrow, at the national level. it was his first time playing for canada, and you knew he was excited for that.

he just wasn't a fan of missing the small things.

it was why he'd began sending you letters and post cards as he moved around for tournaments and hockey games. they were cute souvenirs, and you didn't mind sending him a letter back.

you just wished he could've been here to celebrate christmas with the rest of you.

iii. (2009 - pretend ft was invented a year earlier)

"merry christmas, love."

you smiled, "merry christmas sid."

sidney adjusted his phone, fixing the facetime so you could see him better. you laughed as he struggled for a minute, finally getting a proper angle.

"don't move!" you said. "there, perfect. now your entire face is on my screen."

he laughed as he shook his head to himself.

the two of you had been friends for thirteen years before he worked up the courage to ask you out. and for the last two years of your relationship had been amazing. there were ups, like seeing him win the stanley cup, and there were downs, like seeing him take some uncalled for hits.

but you were happy. and so was sid.

the two of you had planned to celebrate christmas together in pittsburgh, until a family emergency had you coming back to nova scotia last minute.

everything turned out fine, but it was just too late to get a ticket back to pittsburgh.

even so, you and sid had found a way to work around that.

the two of you spent most of the day on the phone with each other, talking and laughing together. it wasn't what either of you had planned, but you made it enjoyable.

it was a great christmas.

iv. (2012)

"sidney, will you get down here already?"

"i'm coming, i'm coming," he called from upstairs.

you sighed, waiting for your husband to get up and get downstairs. christmas morning was the one morning you were happy to get out of bed, but it was also the one morning sid wanted to sleep in.

sam, sidney's dog, came down the stairs, curling around by the christmas tree as he waited for sid with you.

a few minutes passed before sidney made his way downstairs, eyes half closed but a sleepy smile plastered on his face to greet you.

"good morning, love," he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "merry christmas."

"merry christmas," you smiled, pressed a kiss to his jaw. "we eating breakfast first or presents first?"

"mmm, breakfast," sid decided.

"i knew you were going to say that," you laughed, pulling him along to the kitchen.

you'd already prepared breakfast before he came down. some eggs, sausage and bread. it was a good way to pass the time as you waited for sid to get downstairs.

the two of you took your seats, laughing as you ate breakfast and discussed how far you'd gone in life together.

"you almost tripped on the ice," he reminded you.

"no one told me i had to go out on the ice after you guys won," you argued. "i was so excited over you guys winning the stanley cup, i didn't even notice i was being ushered to the ice until i took my first step."

sid laughed as the two of you slowly made your way to the living room.

"here, open my present first," he said, rummaging under the tree to pull out a long, rectangular box.

the two of you had started the tradition of opening all of your sentimental gifts before the other cute ones. and even though you wanted to go first this year, you supposed it was alright if sid got this one.

you unwrapped the box, pulling out a familiar hockey stick. one that you'd given sidney eighteen years ago.

"oh my god," you muttered, tears building up in your eyes.

"i found it in my parent's garage last summer," he shrugged a little. "i remembered how badly you wanted it. and even though it's too small now, i thought you'd like the memory."

"i love it," you grinned, wiping the corners of your eyes. "it's absolutely perfect. i'm putting this up next to that picture of you holding up the trophy."

sid laughed at your response, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"you can do whatever you like with it."

you put the stick to the side, your hands slightly shaky as you grabbed another, much smaller, box. "here. now open my present."

sid took the box from your hands, unwrapping it and opening it. he stared at the contents of the box, unable to form a sentence as he looked between the box and you.

"you -- this -- seriously?" his eyes shined as he stared at you.

you nodded, feeling the tears build up yourself. "we're having a baby."

sid laughed, pulling you in for a hug. "oh my god, this is amazing. a baby, you and me."

the two of you held each other that day, celebrating christmas together.

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shadeysprings · 5 months

Text

A Toast to New Beginnings

—Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary — Reconnecting with your childhood best friend was supposed to be a wonderful experience—until it wasn't.

Warnings — noncon/dubcon, drugging, implied kidnapping, childhood best friends to lovers with a dark twist, possessive Bucky and more that I could have forgotten.

Word Count — 1.7K

A/N — My second entry for @thebasementspouses The 12 Men of Christmas Writing Challenge. And it was such a thrill to write for Bucky again. As soon as I was able to choose what item to pair with him, my mind just went berserk. I mean, how could you not?!

Shoutout to my beta @sgt-seabass. But all mistakes are mine alone.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

“It’s really good to see you again, Bucky.”

The smile you give him is mirrored on his face as he takes your empty plate, stacks it with his, and places them in the sink.

It’s been years since you last saw him, years since you ran away from home and established a new life in the city. You thought he would be angry for leaving him, your only friend in your small town, after you had both promised to be there for each other no matter what.

Though life back then was tough and unpredictable. And as a teenager, it gave you no choice but to leave everything behind, to escape the hardships. Including him.

The years seem to have worn on him with the way he’s grown. You couldn’t believe that this is the same Bucky you knew who roughed up the kids that made fun of you, and stole lollipops from the local store just because you wanted them. He was reckless back then, a bad boy as the old women called him. But now, he seems like an entirely different person and yet at the same time familiar. Like home.

Gone is the long hair you’ve always known him to have, recalling how he beat up the boys who teased him for it, and loved how his mother would comb it out for him despite saying how much he disliked it. Now, his hair is neatly trimmed with the shadow of his beard just kissing his face. He’s also grown bigger; muscles bulged from his shoulders and arms, almost making his navy henley shirt too tight for him.

Guilt suddenly swirls around you, twiddling your fingers together as you remain seated at table and watch him tidy up the kitchen. You even take the time to observe his apartment—a complete bachelor’s pad. But you can’t help but notice the small touches he’s added that reminds you of his childhood home.

He’s never brought up the past once since you met last week by chance at the grocery store. Never once has he shown any emotions of betrayal for what you’ve done. But with you, it’s all you’ve been thinking about after parting ways and agreeing to his invitation to reconnect.

“You remember my mama’s eggnog back then?” He says, disrupting your train of thought, a smile still ever present on his lips when you look up at him.

You smile once more, the memory washing over you like a wave. “How can I forget? She always made mine with chocolate.”

“You always were her favorite,” he laughs heartily. “Liked you more than her own son.”

“Well, she always did want a girl. And I’m the closest thing to a daughter she’ll ever have,” you say with equal mirth.

“Yeah, yeah. Go sit on the couch.” Bucky instructs with a playful inflection in his voice. You stand from the dining table, already making your way to the living room. “I’ll bring you a mug before I give you your present.”

“Present?” That surprises you.

Taking a seat on the couch, you finally notice a small red box sitting on the low coffee table, your name written on the card. You didn’t know he was preparing something for you, and you came to his place empty handed. If the situation were different, if this were to happen in the past, you would have teased each other about it. But with so much time wedged between the both of you, you can’t help but feel another bout of remorse and realize how much things have changed.

“Here you go.”

You look up at Bucky and take the offered mug, the warmth radiating in your palms. He joins you on the couch, a mug for himself in his hand, and a smile grazes his face when he takes a sip. His blue eyes cast over at you, curiosity present.

“You’re sad.” He says, turning in his seat to face you completely. “Did something upset you?”

Placing your drink on the table, you clasp your hands tight and stare blankly into nothing. Of course something upset you. Everything since Bucky came back into your life upset you. It wasn’t because he was part of the past you wanted to forget but more so because you abandoned him.

Yet here he is, making you meals and your favorite drink, the gift adding to the pain that you desperately keep hiding deep in your chest.

“Bucky— I—”

“You don’t have to say anything.” You look over at him when he interrupts, his mug now sitting beside yours. “You did what you had to do, I know. It took time to accept it, but I eventually did.” His hands then envelop yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. There’s a slight smile on his face, the same one that always brought you comfort whenever something troubled you.

Slowly, he reaches over to give your cheek a gentle pinch, ultimately making you chuckle at the childish gesture. Your mug is placed between your palms, and he takes his all the same, sipping on it before nodding in your direction.

“Go on. Mama’s eggnog always makes you feel better during the holidays,” he urges.

“Well, she always made mine special,” you respond, sticking your tongue out playfully at him, and take a heavy gulp of the warm beverage. But your face twists when you swallow, a sour aftertaste scattering on the surface of your tongue that makes you look at your mug, then at Bucky.

“Is something wrong?” He asks in concern.

“No,” you say, trying to appease him, but the cough you release lets him know otherwise. “Just— I don’t remember it being this bitter.”

“Shit. I must have added too much cinnamon in it.” There’s a frown on his lips as he stands from his seat, holding his hand out for the mug. “I can make you a new one if you like. Probably hold back on the cinnamon this time.”

“Oh, don’t bother.” You tell him, schooling your features as you take another sip. “It’s still good. But maybe I can have a glass of water with it?”

“Already on it.”

You take another mouthful as he leaves for the kitchen, hoping to get used to the bitter aftertaste. But it’s an endeavor you stop, placing the mug back on the coffee table and instead reaching out for the red box to guess its contents.

But your heart begins to beat at a rapid pace, hands shaking uncontrollably, and you gasp when you feel your muscles tighten then loosen altogether, making you lean back against the cushions of the couch like a wilted flower as you try to decipher what’s happening. You try to call for Bucky to help you in your mysterious ordeal, but no matter how hard you try, no words leave your lips. And in just a matter of seconds, you’re rendered helpless and incapacitated.

Your eyes widen when you see Bucky return, eyes cast down on you as he sets the glass of water beside your mug. He says nothing, not even questioning how you’ve come to be this way, yet there seems to be no sense of urgency permeating through him. And instead, he lets out a chuckle when he takes your legs from the floor and lifts them up to the couch.

“Well, what do you know! It does have a fast reaction time,” he says with a grin, taking a seat at your side and reaching over to caress your face.

What? He did this on purpose? But why?

Confusion runs wildly in your head as tears stream down your cheeks. You feel nothing yet everything all at once; the sound of his heavy breaths when he leans closer, the heat that flutters on your skin when he grazes his fingertips against it, and the sight of his intense stare, how the blue of his eyes grow bolder, the concern and, dare you say, love in them earlier replaced with hunger, possessiveness and something darker.

“After years of waiting, I finally have you, my Dove.”

That name.

It’s been years since you’ve heard it. And it was only him and his mother who called you as such. The name that used to bring you joy each time you heard it. Yet now, it elicits fear in your chest.

Sapphire orbs bores into your eyes while his hand caresses your cheek. “Unlike before, I won’t let you go that easily.” His hand snakes down to your neck, then lower to your breast, taking a tit in his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “In all honesty, you did this to yourself. If you never left me, we would never be in this situation. We could have been married. Living a simple life on the outskirts of town. Maybe even here in the city.” Releasing your breast, he pushes his hand lower, skating down your blouse and stopping just at the edge of your jeans. With deft hands, he undoes the button and pulls down the zip, your chest pounding as you foresee the coming events, wanting to kick him away from you—but it’s no use.

You no longer see your childhood best friend, your protector through the years. What you see is a stranger, a monster, here to haunt you through the next.

He’s strong, pulling the fabric off your thighs and tossing them haphazardly to the ground. He then stands, eyes raking over your body, and you’re once more stricken with fear when he starts to undo his pants.

“Now, I’ll make sure that you never leave me,” he continues, kicking his pants away and taking your legs in his hands, lifting them over his shoulders as he kneels before you.

You do nothing but watch in horror and feel his ministrations when he pushes your panties aside and presses his thumb against your clit. He rolls it slowly, teasing, dampening your cunt with each stroke he makes, pulling at the pleasure you desperately tamp down, but all your efforts are useless with your body subdued.

He lines his cock against your cunt, feeling the way he rubs the tip against your folds, taunting to penetrate at any moment.

“This time, I’ll make sure we’ll be together forever.”

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #a toast to new beginnings #tbschristmaschallenge #mcu #tfatws #sebastian stan characters #shadeysprings fics

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redskull199987 · 6 months

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Ola may thee great Skull of red write a Mike×Male reader where Reader is an old friend of Mike's and visits him at his house?Like reader and Mike were best friends but reader moved away at 16.Reader hopes that Mike remembers him and he dies and he is smitten by him and always was.Wants to deny it but after seeing that reader Is good with kids Aka. ABBY Mike is just really goofy and awkward but like super in love if that makes sense.

Back Home

Mike Schmidt x male!reader Request

Word Count:1.2k

Warnings:literally nothing at all, it's all sweet, only thing is slight movie spoilers, but not really

Summary: After moving back into town for your new Job at the Police Department, you realize that you now live next door to your childhood best friend…Mike Schmidt…

Masterlist

You didn’t exactly know what you were doing. Why you were here or what you were hoping to achieve. All you knew was that you had to try. You just had to. You couldn’t just move into the apartment next to your childhood best friend and not say hello.

So, here you were. Standing in front of his door, theoretically ready to knock, but not really. Your mind was racing and for a second, you thought about just going back Home and trying to avoid Mike for the rest of your life.

But that idea was quickly discarded again and with one last deep breath in, you finally raised your hand and knocked on the door a few times.

When nothing happened for a hot minute, you were ready to retreat from his doorstep without a second thought, but against all odds, the door opened after all. But what you saw in front of you, was not what you expected at all. It wasn’t Mike, nor his parents or a friend or anyone.

It was a little Girl.

And she looked at you with curiosity in her eyes. Her gaze wandered over your entire figure a few times, before she finally decided to say something:”Who are you?”

“Ehm..I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N. I moved in next door.”, you explained with confusion written all over your face.

“Oh I saw you last week, when You arrived.”, the little Girl smiled at you gently,”I’m Abby, Abby Schmidt.”

Your eyes widened, upon hearing her last name. Schmidt? So you were at the right house after all? But where was Mike and where were his parents? Was this his little sister? You were honestly surprised that his Parents managed to have another Kid after everything that happened with Garret. Of course, you had tried to help Mike through that tough time, but after your Parents decided to move away when You were 16, you and Mike slowly lost contact until you had no idea anymore what was happening in his life.

And here you were again. Standing on his doorstep with furrowed brows, while his little sister opened the door for you.

“Uh, is Mike home?”, You asked gingerly,”Him and I were friends when we were kids.”

“I think he talked about you before…”, Abby mentioned casually, while she bid you inside. You quickly recognized that their apartment had the same layout as yours. A small living room that was connected with the kitchen and a hallway that led to the bathroom and two bedrooms.

You were slightly startled, as Abby suddenly called out for her brother, before she retreated back to the sofa to draw and watch TV. You looked after her for a second, until your attention was caught by a very sleepy looking Mike who stumbled down the hallway.

"Abby?", he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Only now he saw you standing in the middle of the Living room, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Mike?", you stuttered, still not sure if this was such a smart idea.

Mike rubbed his eyes once more, before walking over to you:"Y/N? Is that you?"

Startled by the fact that he even recognized you, you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.

Luckily, Mike didn't even notice and just kept asking you questions:"How long has it been? What are you doing here?"

You looked to the ground for a second, finally finding your voice again:"I moved back into town because of my new job and realized that you and your sister live next door."

You tried to convey it all as calm as possible, but you feared that Mike would notice, that your hands were slightly shaking and that you could barely look at him.

" Oh ehm, wow. That's nice to hear. ", Mike muttered and pulled you out of your thoughts, "Do you… Do you want a cup of Coffee maybe? And catch up?"

You were honestly surprised that he welcomed you back into his life so easily. You hadn't seen each other in years and then you suddenly stand in his living room and now he's asking you if you want coffee.

" Sure. ", you answered with a smile and followed him to the kitchen.

"Please tell me if I am overstepping, but are your parents…?", you carefully asked, as the two of you sat down at the small table.

Mike only nodded, running a hand through his hair. Only now, you noticed how tired he actually looked. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked as pale as a ghost.

" I'm sorry, Mike.", you mumbled after his short silence.

And then you did something, neither of you expected. You reached forward and put your hand on top of his, squeezing it gently.

You felt heat rising to your cheeks, as Mike returned the gesture with a lazy smile.

" Thank you", he said, before slowly pulling his hand back. You quickly returned the smile, looking away for a second.

"You've already met Abby, I presume.", Mike questioned, after standing up again to pour the coffee.

"Yeah", you uttered, as he handed you a mug, "She's lovely."

The two of you gazed into the living room for a second, watching Abby happily draw with her crayons.

"So, you're back in town because of a new job?", Mike interrupted the small silence while sipping on his coffee.

You nodded at him:"Uh yeah. I work at the Police Department. They already assigned me a new partner, can you believe it? But she's supposed to be a nice person."

Mike furrowed his brows at your statement:"Her name wouldn't be Vanessa, would it?"

Now it was your turn to look at him in confusion

:"You know Vanessa?"

"Yeah, I met her the other night. I work as a security guard at that old Pizza Plex and she came over to see how I was doing", Mike quickly explained. And now it made sense to you. Some guys at the Police Department had already told you about the creepy old Pizza Plex…and about the fact that the Security Guards often didn't make it very long…

"Well, maybe we'll see each other sometime then.", you joked a little awkwardly.

"Yeah", Mike agreed, a little smile forming on his face, "That'd be Nice. Hey, do you perhaps have time to meet up to… You know, really catch up?"

You were a bit taken aback by his question, but not in a bad way:"Yeah sure."

Mike gave you a tired grin, probably not realizing how over the place his hair was. You couldn't suppress a little chuckle, as you looked at him.

"What!? Is there something on my face?", Mike quickly asked, making a dumb face at you. Now, you fully had to laugh at him.

Oh, you had missed your best friend. And you were glad to see him again.

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orchidyoonkook · 1 year

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Under The Willow Tree | MYG

Title: Under The Willow Tree

Pairing: Bad Boy!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (T) | One Shot, Small Town AU, S2F2L, Implied Age Gap, Slow Burn, Angst, Touch of Fluff, Darker Subject Matter, First Kiss, Silce of Life

Summary: The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?

Warnings: PG16, some not necessarily positive non-specific religious discussions, people using religion in a negative may, plot twisty, cursing, kissing, semi-apparent abandonment issues, discussions of dead parents and guardians, mentions of alcoholism in a parent, mentions of illness in a parent, yoongi has tattoos and a motorcycle, motorcycle lessons, longing, mishandled emotions, catharsis.

Word Count: 7401

Release Date: April 10, 2023, 4:05PM

A/N 1: This happened due to a writing prompts post I shared sometime in late march. I’m quite proud of it considering I hadn’t planned anything so the entire story was written as I was writing. Very different than my normal writing process.

A/N 2: Thank you endlessly to @borahae-k, @katykatmeow, @here4btsfics and @phthartic-fox for beta’ing this. I love you all for your help, support and kindness.

It happened under a willow tree. A weeping willow.

Your favourite willow, to be specific. Even though there’s just the one.

It’s by the pond deep in the woods behind your house, where you watch ducks swim through the long, wispy branches that just reach its shore. Where you sit at the base, waiting for the sun to set the sky ablaze with colour as it falls into the horizon for another good night's sleep.

The one under which you had your first kiss.

You’d been waiting. Wanting it to be special, with the right person.

But a brief brush of soft, pink lips with the last person you ever expected had you wanting more, more, more.

It’d been a few months since he started coming to the willow. You’d assumed for the same reason you did.

To get away. From anyone and everything.

There aren’t many places in your hometown that allow for privacy, and you imagined he needed it more than anyone. Somewhere far from the residents' judgmental stares that were always nothing less than smothering.

Hailing from a very small, very rural, religious town where everybody’s known everyone for generations, your community is one where you follow in the footsteps of your parents and grandparents before them.

Where your life is already decided for you at birth, whether you know it or not.

Copy. Paste.

Copy.

Paste.

You’re born there; either at home with a midwife or in the one floor hospital down the main road. Raised there; a hand-me-down wearing, bike riding, creek-playing child.

You go to school there; stuck inside the same four walls from the ages of 4 to 18. Get your driver's licence there; from the sheriff after a road test that a 9 year old could pass.

You graduate there; from the same high school your friends, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents went to. Get a job; in town or on a farm, the only two options there are.

And marry there; before 25, lest you become a spinster, subject to the gossip vultures also known as your neighbours. Then have some kids before growing old and dying, your permanent resting place dug in the same graveyard as everyone else that came before you.

Copy.

Paste.

It’s a suffocating fate that petrified you to your core. And you’ve known you didn’t want it for as long as you can remember.

You never liked their rules. Didn’t want to become one of them, to do as they do, live the way they live.

You’d skillfully escaped making any true friends as you grew older, but kept the people you could tolerate close enough to not be bored on weekends. They’re all temporary placeholders in your life anyway, people who sound like robots stuck in the same settings. People who would hold you back.

What’s worst of all is that you don’t share the religion they claim to be so hallowed and wonderful. The one that’s unwittingly forced them all into this life of monotonous repetition.

You dream of more. Of life outside this dreaded purgatory.

Of leaving.

But no one ever leaves. They’re stuck here, in this downwards spiral of life you’re so desperately trying to dig yourself out of. It makes you feel like a fraud, constantly pretending to be one of them. Always wearing a mask just to make it to the next day alive, unharmed by them and their values.

It makes you feel like there’s always a pair of eyes watching, waiting for you to mess up and reveal your blasphemous self.

You’re terrified they’ll discover the truth. Terrified of the ostracisation that will come the second they know you aren’t one of them.

You’ve seen it in real time. What they do to people who don’t conform.

Seen how they treat him.

Two years older. Bleach blond hair and a sleeve full of tattoos. A leather jacket he wears like armour with all black clothes to match. And last, but certainly not least, a motorcycle.

You daydreamed about that bike. Taking it and riding far, far away.

The busybodied people of your town never had a kind word to be said about him. Instead, choosing to call him any and every horrible name under the sun.

Beast, bastard, demon, monster, criminal.

Unable to understand him, understand anyone different.

They herd their children away from him in the streets; parting like the Red Sea when he walks by.

As if he were acid.

As if he was evil itself, and not just a young man.

You’ve never even heard him speak because no one dares to talk to him, worried any contact could turn them, seduce them into whatever his sick ways were.

And you’re ashamed to admit you’re one of them…sort of.

You aren’t worried about speaking to him, you’re worried about what being seen speaking with him will do to you.

You’re someone whose only salvation from complete and total social isolation relies on fitting in.

And even if it kills you to pretend, you only need to do it for a little while longer.

You just had to make it to college. You’d be the first one in decades to go. Their mindset of ‘you have everything you need here so why bother leaving’ having not once in your life resonated.

You can deal with them and all of their beliefs about what you should do with your life for the short hours of school and occasional shifts at the diner, so long as you can escape to your willow tree, you’ll be okay.

The weeping willow in the middle of the forest behind your house is the only one in the area. You never understood why that is, but it’s your oasis away from everything you hate.

The tips of its branches sway rhythmically in the wind, and moss creeps up its trunk. It’s surrounded by dense, plush grass for you to sit on, and after all the years of sitting in the same spot, a little groove in the shape of your body has formed at its base.

Its canopy protects you from the outside world, creating a space where you don't have to hide. Where you can proudly be yourself without fear. Where you spend as much of your time as you possibly can to keep your sanity intact.

No one bothers you here.

Your mum died years ago from an illness they never diagnosed, her plot in the town’s graveyard long since filled.

And your dad never notices you gone, too drunk in your house up on the hill to care.

So as long as there’s a constant supply of food on the counter and beer in the fridge, you’re free to do as you please.

Under the willow you do your homework and sketch. You take pictures and eat breakfasts and lunches and dinners. You listen to music and dance under the safety of its shade.

Under the willow you read great adventure novels, and dream you’re the protagonists whisked away on grand adventures. Anywhere but here.

Under the willow is your home away from home. Next to the pond, under the stars.

So it’s to your great surprise when an unexpected guest pries open the curtain of flowing foliage one spring afternoon. A bleached blond, leather jacket wearing, motorcycle riding, guest.

You don’t see him at first, too focused on the sketchpad in front of you. He steps in, and watches you work quietly, waiting for you to notice him.

You fascinate him. Every other girl in town can be found at one of three places, yet you were never at any of them. Not at the restaurant sipping on a milkshake. Not at the library studying. And not at the church volunteering.

You’re always elsewhere.

And he’s finally figured out where that is.

He was nervous at first. To follow you. You’d never spoken but that wasn’t anything new to him. No one in this town ever did.

Not to him.

But you don’t look down at him like the others do. Or jump out of the way when he walks by. You don’t tear away from his gaze as fast as the others. You hold on, even if for just a second longer.

Unknowingly, you’ve captivated him more than anyone else he’s ever met.

So he followed you to see where you vanish off to, not expecting you to go into the forest behind your house.

For a half second he considered you dangerous, because what on earth could you be getting up to in a forest for hours? But as he trailed the sounds of your footsteps and saw the small clearing with the tree, it began to make sense.

After jumping ten feet from seeing something tall and dark in your periphery, you exhale a large breath when you realise you aren’t in any danger, and shake out the nerves.

You’d normally worry he was there to hurt you, but something in you knew he never would. Never could. Maybe it was the look he gave as he regarded you.

Soft. Wistful even.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, wary. The first words you’ve ever spoken to him.

Barely contained inside the limits of the willows perimeter, he shrugs, and takes a long look around your little sanctuary.

And as he does, you get your first real look at him.

He’s handsome. Stoically so. And for only a moment do you wonder about all the stories hidden behind his eyes.

The ones now focused on you.

“Wanted to see where you disappear to. You’re never in town.”

So what if you were never in town? Why did he care? Wait—How did he know? Does he pay attention to you?

…Why you?

You didn’t think he cared to notice anyone in this town, let alone you enough to know you don’t follow the social expectations of someone your age.

To pick up on the fact that you’re never there at all.

It makes a million things run through your mind—Why does he care about where you go? What about you is so special? Does he even know your name?—before one resounding thought hits you like a ton of bricks.

Can you trust him?

No one else in this town does, but all of their reasons are superficial bullshit.

All you know is you don’t know the first thing about him, and that now he knows about the one place you feel safe.

“That’s intentional,” you say, cautious. Not giving away anything but not saying much either.

“Can’t blame you,” he responds, before checking out the rooftop of bright green and muttering, “Eyes and ears everywhere.”

Those four words alone are all you need.

He gets it.

“Yeah.”

Maybe you can trust him.

Observing each other for a silent minute, there seems to be an unspoken understanding forming between the two of you.

And he shoves his hands in his pockets, asking, “Mind company?”

You think about it for only a second.

No. No you didn’t.

“As long as you’re quiet. I’m trying to focus,” pointing the eraser end of your pencil to the sketchpad on your lap. “The cattail leaves are the hardest to get the lines right.”

He nods, finally breaking free of his position at the branch's edge. Nearing the base of the tree, he crouches down, about a quarter of the trunk's diameter away from you. It’s close enough to still see each other, but far enough to not bump into one another.

And before nestling in fully, he extends a tattooed hand to you.

“Yoongi.”

An introduction.

“Y/N,” you return, putting your pencil down in the crease of your pad and shaking.

His hand is calloused, the ones you get from years of working with your hands. And strong, a firm grip. The kind you’d want to pull you up if you were dangling over a cliff.

So many stories contained in a 3 second touch. Yet you find yourself wanting to know all of them.

Releasing, he settles in.

What surprises you most about the whole encounter isn’t his arrival, or speaking to him for the first time, or even the handshake.

It’s that when he’s comfortable, with one leg up for an elbow to rest upon, he digs a book out from the confines of his jacket.

Jules Verne, The Mysterious Island.

Your favourite.

Spring fades into a wonderful summer of late nights and early mornings. Of beautiful blue skies and vivid sunsets you appreciate a little more now that you have someone to share them with.

Yoongi comes almost, if not, every day to the willow. Always a different book in hand. Always one of the classics.

The Iliad, 1984, Jane Eyre, Moby Dick, Anna Karina, Dracula, Little Women, Frankenstein, Catcher in the Rye, and those are just the ones you can remember because you’ve read them too. Some of them more than once.

You never expected to have anything in common with the boy that sits next to you. But from the little you’ve spoken to one another over the months, you’ve found that you share so much more than just reading habits.

On a warm April afternoon he told you he reads because he loves it but also to escape the daily hell that is your town.

“Mmm, what’s your favourite?” you’d asked.

Yoongi was lying down with an arm behind his head, staring into the treetop. Brave New World sat opened and facedown on his chest, his hand resting atop it.

“Pride and Prejudice.”

That was the last answer you expected.

“Why?”

He lifts his head to look at you.

“I thought the answer would’ve been obvious.”

After a cold drink on a hot June morning he told you his dreams of moving across the country. As far away as he could get.

“Just have to save up enough money first.”

You wondered how he made any. He definitely didn’t work anywhere in town…maybe waiting to inherit?

Who knew?

Both on a blanket you’d brought, Yoongi’s lying opposite and beside you, his feet by your hips. He used his balled up jacket as a pillow while you sat in your usual spot, capturing the way the branches swayed in your sketchpad.

He’d taken to reading to you while you drew, including you in the grand stories he now knew you loved to read too.

That day he had The Great Gatsby, a story you’d read about 20 times.

You often dreamed of attending one of his parties. Of seeing the green light across the way, or having a conversation with Nick, why he stayed.

“Are you anywhere close?” you asked, in reference to his saving goals.

“Getting there,” was all he gave.

And on a miserable, rainy night in the middle of August, is when you learned he’s all on his own.

Sitting beside each other, you both huddled underneath his jacket for what little protection from the rain it could give. Water droplets fell from the tips of his bangs as he spoke.

“My parents died in a car crash when I was 9, and then my grandma who took care of me, when I was 15.”

You grieved for him as he told you his story.

How he had to raise himself.

Just like you did.

“I’m sorry,” you’d replied gently. Softly. Knowing how it felt to have no one support you. No one to help you.

Knowing how it felt to be alone.

You understood.

You did, you did, you did.

Yoongi just stared at the ground, unable to meet your eyes. And you’d wondered if any of the water on his face was salty as he breathed out a quiet and heartbreaking, “Thank you.”

It made you question how many kind words he’d heard since his family passed.

And also incredibly pissed off at the people in your town for how they’d treated him.

How you’d…treated him.

A silent promise was made then and there. Never having felt more embarrassed and furious with yourself than in that moment. You’d learned your lesson, and hoped that offering up your own piece of vulnerability might help him feel not so alone.

Though you watched the rain turn the pond into a canvas of vibration as you did. Words dragged from the deepest parts of your soul, burning the back of your throat as they left.

“My dad hasn’t been sober a day since my mom died. His eyes are turning yellow,” you said, hugging yourself to stop shaking, convinced yourself it was because of the cold.

Even though it was August.

“He doesn’t recognize me most of the time.”

You closed your eyes, a familiar tang washing over your tongue as you licked the water dripping from your lips. He gave no response, but an arm found its way over your shoulders and squeezed.

He understood.

It’s the beginning of September. The air’s started to nip at your cheeks, and the ground crunches a little more everyday with all of the leaves falling underfoot.

The tips of the willows leaves have begun to turn the colour of the morning sun, and by the time mid October rolls around, it’ll look like golden hour every hour of the day.

Yoongi finally tells you about the job he has at a mechanic's in the next town over. He explains how they don’t pay him nearly what they should, but he doesn’t complain because every cent brings him closer to leaving.

Just him and his bike.

You turn sheepish.

“Can I tell you something?”

He sits closer after all this time, more comfortable around one another. Still not enough to touch, not crossing that invisible boundary line, but enough that you don’t have to turn your head much anymore to see his eyes.

Brown and endless.

“Yeah, sure.”

You take a deep breath.

“I kind of always dreamed of taking your bike to get away from here and never come back.” He gives you a look and you shrug. “Seemed the easiest route to take.”

A smile that starts as a smirk turns into a healthy laugh.

“What’s so funny?” You demand. He has to calm himself down a bit before answering.

“You just uhm…don’t seem the criminal type to me, Cattails.”

There’s a flutter of something in your chest at the stupid nickname. For the drawing you did the day you met.

He continues, unaware of the goings on inside you. “Stealing? You? Nah. Not a chance.”

You open your mouth in mock outrage, scrunching your brow and bringing a hand to your chest.

“I’ll have you know I’d make an excellent criminal,” you lie to his face. He knows it too.

But giving in, you detail the plan you’d always kept in your head for emergencies, heat slowly rising in your cheeks with every word.

“I’d take the key from you when you weren’t looking, duplicate it at the hardware store, and slip it back into your pocket before you ever noticed it was gone. Then go to your place in the middle of the night and be halfway across the country before morning.”

“Oh yeah?” he says with a raised brow you don’t trust.

“Yeah,” you confirm with a little too much faux confidence.

“And where do I keep my key, Y/N? Hmm?”

“Your jacket pocket,” you’d deduced long ago.

“Mmm,” he tsks with a shake of his head. “Nope.”

Oh. Well then it must be,

“Your pants pocket?”

“Nuh uh, try again.”

Damnit!

You’d never thought much about it. How many places can someone keep a key on them without a bag and it not be in their pockets?

“Ummm, in your wallet?” Far-fetched but worth a shot.

“Ooo,” he blows through pursed lips before smirking at you again, but this one was different. It caused something very deep inside of you to turn to lava. “Good guess, but also no.”

Closing his book and setting it down, Yoongi straightens and reaches inside the collar of his shirt, retrieving a necklace you didn’t know he wore.

It’s small, the key, and almost silver. The colouring is tarnished from years of use, with worn teeth and some lettering at its base.

He holds it against a palm to show you.

“Why there?” You ask, wondering if there’s a reason aside from convenience.

With a sad tug of his lips, he answers. “Bike was my dads. I like to keep him close.”

A tender smile meets your own plush as you stare at the little key, appreciating it more after learning the importance it has to him.

And Yoongi watches you, viewing his ticket to freedom with the biggest eyes he’s ever seen, full of that same compassion and understanding you’ve always given him.

An understanding he didn’t think he’d ever see again from this place.

One he doesn’t know if he deserves.

Before you can respond, he’s taking the chain off and sliding it over your head, hand lingering for a second longer than necessary at your nape.

“Yoongi,” you hesitate.

It’s the first time you’ve said his name out loud.

You like the way it feels on your tongue. Warm, sweet. Like honey.

What you don’t know is he loves the way it sounds coming from you.

You falter. “W-what are you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“But it’s your key! Don’t you need it?”

“Nah, got a spare in the storage compartment of the bike,” he says, gesturing to the one you now hold in your palms. “This way you won’t have to go through the hassle of stealing it.”

“But I—”

“Keep it,” he cuts you off. “In case you need it more than I do.”

It never leaves your neck.

“You want me to what?” You ask as you walk towards the forest edge, Yoongi trailing on your left.

“Take her out for a spin. See if you even can. You’re the one who has all these grand plans but doesn’t even know how to turn it on,” he explains, referring to his motorcycle.

“Those were just daydreamed plans! I never thought I’d actually use them! What if I crash?”

He was kidding right? He must be.

For all the time you two have spent together, you’ve never spoken or been around one another in public. An unspoken agreement.

What happens under the willow tree, stays under the willow tree.

So to be out in the open? On his bike? You don’t know if you can. Or if you should.

But then you remember a promise you made not long ago.

“You won’t crash,” he says, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“How do you know? Like you said, I don’t even know how to turn it on,” you hmph.

“Because I’ll be there.”

And maybe it’s the tone of voice he uses, or the fact that you trust him, you find yourself saying,

“Okay, fine.”

Minutes later you’re swinging a leg over the bike, and sinking on to the surprisingly comfortable seat.

“Where do I put the key?” You ask, taking it from your neck and handing it over.

Yoongi puts it in the side of the motorcycle, somewhere close to your knee.

“Here,” he shows as he turns it to the ‘ON’ position.

“Oh.”

What a weird place for an ignition.

“Mhm,” he acknowledges, then points. “Put your hand on the brake, it’s the part that sticks out on the right hand side. Hold it firmly against the handlebar. Don’t roll the handle bar itself back though, okay? That’s the throttle.”

Doing what he says, you hold the brake tight against the handle bar, murmuring an ‘okay’ under your breath.

“Now hit that button there on the right to let the fuel pump start up,” referring to the button beside the brake near your thumb. You do so.

He checks a little gauge on the side near the ignition. Seemingly pleased, he continues. “And now hit the button on the left to start it.”

Following his words once again, the engine roars to life the second the button is pressed, purring powerfully.

You feel exhilarated and a little terrified. But he’s here. You know you’re safe.

Voice a little louder to combat the noise from the motor, he says, “Okay, now on the left handle bar, grab the clutch. I’ll show you how to move into first gear, and look at me,” your eyes meet his, “do not let go of the clutch.”

You nod, but for extra precaution, he clamps his hand over the one you have holding it. You watch as he bends to put your left foot on a pedal and presses it down till you hear a pop, pushing up the kickstand when he rises.

The bike is heavy, now that you’re the only thing keeping it up right, you can feel its weight. And you understand why they’re designed to be able to have your feet on the ground even when sitting. You’d probably fall over otherwise.

“If you’re uncomfortable you let me know, yeah? And if you get scared just do what you’re doing now with this hand,” he squeezes for emphasis, “it’ll take all the power away from the engine and you’ll just coast until you stop, okay?”

“Okay!” You say, more excited by the minute. Your toes and fingertips are starting to tingle.

“I‘m gonna let go and you’re going to very, very slowly let up on the clutch—not all the way. Just enough that you move at about a pedal bike's pace. Let me jog down the road about 50 feet or so, and then you meet me there. Hold tight to the clutch again when you’re about 20 feet from me and I’ll catch you. Sound good?”

Nodding one more time in confirmation, nerves crawl all over your skin. You can’t describe the new feeling fully, but the closest you can find to it is probably the beginnings of an adrenaline rush.

You watch as Yoongi jogs down the road, throws his hands up over his head, and gives you two big thumbs up.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly release some pressure off the clutch and begin to move forwards. You know your feet are supposed to go on the metal foot rests below you, but you're so focused on not falling or crashing that you just stick them out so they don’t touch the ground.

Halting your left hands release at the speed he said to, you cruise along, wind picking up with your increased pace.

Holy shit!

You’re riding a motorcycle!

You never thought you could, it was just a dream for so long. Something you kept in the back of your mind just for fun, but now you’re actually doing it! Your driving down the road on an actual real life motorcycle!? All by yourself!?

Turns out all you needed was a little encouragement and someone you trust to spot you.

Aiming for Yoongi, you clamp down on the clutch once again, cutting power to the engine. You drift right into his awaiting hands braced for the impact, and he slides a little on the gravel road before getting you to a full stop.

He presses one of the buttons you did earlier and the bike shuts down, allowing you to jump off.

You’re positively giddy.

“Oh my god did you see me?! I just did that! I just drove a motorcycle! Can you believe it?! I can’t believe I just did that!” You don’t even register what you're saying, too full of excitement to care.

Yoongi can’t contain his grin as he gets the bike standing on its own. Your joy is too infectious not to take part in, and he walks over for a high five to celebrate.

But to his surprise, you bypass his hand completely and embrace him, throwing your arms around his neck.

It takes only a second before he’s enveloping you with his own, not letting the chance to hold you go by.

“Thank you!” You say, before letting go, not even realising what you did. You’re too busy catching your breath from all the rambling and jumping around, still filled with the remnants of your elation.

Meanwhile, Yoongi can’t get the feeling of your body against him out of his head. How soft you were. How warm. The way you smelled like a mixture of your natural scent and outside.

And he’s asking, “You wanna to go for a ride?” before he can tell himself not too.

The question makes you pause. Was he serious? Because you can’t think of anything you want more.

Staring at him, your answer is far too gentle for someone who was just screeching with joy.

“Really?”

He nods, still untrusting of his mouth, confirming with a ‘mhm.’

You don’t hesitate. You want to feel like that again.

Not a minute later he’s giving you the helmet and securing it tightly. He also makes you wear his leather jacket to protect your torso, leaving him in just an oversized black t-shirt and dark ripped jeans.

Swinging a leg over, he pats the seat behind him.

And you’re glad to have the helmet on because without it he would most definitely see your inability to meet his eye. You can barely focus on anything aside from the sight in front of you and being wrapped in the scent of him. But then he gives a tattooed hand to help you hop on, and says,

“You have to put your arms around me and hold on. Otherwise you might fly off the back when we accelerate,” holding his hands behind him to guide yours.

What? You didn’t think this far. He—you have t—Ummm, well...

“Okay,” you answer, voice small, letting your hands be guided.

Despite the loss of his jacket, he’s still deliciously warm, and the heat in your cheeks increases tenfold with your hands now splayed over his abdomen.

Lightly defined muscles meet your fingertips through the thin material of his shirt and you do your best to memorize them as he turns on the bike and pulls away from the curb.

He starts slower than normal to make sure you’re alright, but when you give him the thumbs up, he speeds up to just over the limit and you hold tight.

You’ve never felt so free, loving the rush of wind that flows over your body from going so fast. It’s pushing a welcomed cold through the fabric of your clothes as your body temperature has only increased since getting on.

You could go anywhere, do anything. Nothing and nobody could stop you.

You want that. You want it so bad. And he gave you the key to be able to.

Literally.

But now when you think about leaving, you think about leaving with him. Yoongi driving and you sitting right here on the back, nothing but each other, the road, and hope for the future.

Growing confident enough to release your grasp after a few minutes, you raise your hands in the air, and let the wind catch your fingertips. A whoop of joy leaves you at this newfound feeling he’s given you.

Then another, and another, before returning them to their place around him.

Yoongi can’t help but smile the biggest he has in years when hearing your squeals of glee.

Because for the first time in a long time, he feels it too.

Yoongi doesn’t come to the willow for almost a week.

He’s never done that since he started coming. Not once.

And you’re worried.

Where is he? Is he okay? You have no idea.

It’s not like you can go looking for him.

And you two aren’t anything anyway, so you shouldn’t even be this worried in the first place. If he’s safe, or in the bottom of a ditch somewhere.

But you can’t help it.

Just like you can’t help the feelings that have blossomed for him over the months. The feelings you didn’t want to admit to yourself for fear of him not returning them.

Yet there they were, and there isn’t anything you can do about them now.

They make you wonder if you’ll ever see him again.

Six days.

It takes him six days to return. Stomping in, and visibly pissed off.

“What’s wrong?” You ask once he’s close enough to hear.

“I’m leaving,” he says flatly, uncaring. Like you asked him what colour the sky was.

And your stupid, silly little unrequited heart shatters.

“What?”

“I’m leaving. Taking off. Getting out of here. I can’t do it anymore.”

Piece by piece it falls from your chest and into the depths of your stomach.

“B-but why? What happened?”

“I got fired.”

“Fired?”

“Yeah, fired. I tried all week to fix this one stupid mistake I made,” he explains, smoothing over his creased brow with two fingers. “But it cost more to fix than to keep me around, so they fired me. I don’t have the amount of cash I planned for, but I have enough to make it work. And I can pick up odd jobs on the road if I need to.” He nears, extending a tattooed hand. “I just came to get my key and say goodbye.”

Your hand reaches for it, clutching it tightly. You don’t want to give it back.

Who the hell is this? Because you barely recognize him. It certainly isn’t the Yoongi you’ve come to know.

The wonderfully kind, classics reading, dream-sharing, motorcycle instructing, freedom key giving man.

The one who told you about his grandmother, and his parents. Who read you stories while you drew and ate meals together. Who taught you how to ride his motorcycle.

The Yoongi you fell for.

Your Yoongi.

The person currently standing in front of you isn’t him at all.

He’s the hard, cold exterior, crafted over years of verbal and societal abuse. The one everyone avoids at all costs when walking through town. The person he had to become in order to survive.

You don’t know this person.

And you hate it.

You hate it so much it decides to exit your body in the form of tears. Ones of sadness, frustration, and heartbreak.

He’s—he’s leaving.

Actually leaving.

This place, it’s people.

You...

The few remaining pieces of your heart plunge to the floor, crumbling to dust as they hit. Nothing but a hollow, empty cavern remaining where it once sat.

“But I–you…,” the lump in your throat only getting bigger when you try to speak. You face away from him.

Don’t let him see you cry.

He’s clearly never felt anything close to what you do for him, so suck it up. Reign it in. You do it everyday. So why can’t you do it now?

You don’t get to feel this way!

Shove it back down, get it down!. Crush it all until it’s nothing.

Make it go away. Far, far away.

Yoongi’s face is falling while you’re taking deep breaths to calm down.

In all of his rage and despair at his terrible week, he’s forgotten who he was speaking to.

His kind hearted, music-sharing, been through hell and back, kickass girl. The one he can call his only true friend.

He’s such an asshole. He hadn’t seen you for almost a week, which killed him in of itself. And then the second he does, all he‘s able to do is spew the frustration and misery he’s been feeling the entire time you were apart.

Nah, he’s worse than an asshole.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ha—”

But he freezes at the sound of a small, wet inhale.

You’re crying.

He made you cry.

And a regret bigger than the ocean drowns him.

“Hey, wait, please,” he says, rushing over, but you hold out a hand to stop him. “Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

He reaches for you again, and again you stop him. You can’t let him comfort you.

Not when he doesn’t realise he’s become the only person in this whole godforsaken, judgemental hellhole of a neighbourhood wasteland you have.

Your grandparents are dead, along with your mum. Your dad’s an abusive drunk, too far gone to remember he has a daughter. You don’t have any aunts or uncles or cousins to rely on, nor do you have any real friends.

You have no one, aside from Yoongi.

And now you won’t even have him.

So you can’t let him comfort you. Can’t let him see you break.

You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

Because you don’t know if you’ll be able to put yourself back together without him if you do.

But a quiet, “Y/N, please,” imbued with pain you haven’t heard since a rainy August night leaves his lips. A last ditch effort to get you to look at him, to let him help.

And it breaks you completely, bursting into a million tiny pieces to match your heart on the floor.

An unrestrained sob falls from your mouth, and he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. Yours go to his neck as he drags you onto his lap, gripping tight.

He holds you through every whimper and hiccup and stuttered inhale and shudder. Through every muttered ‘please don’t go’ and ‘please don’t leave me,’ that escapes, stroking a hand along the back of your head and down your spine, soothing.

He whispers, “it’s okay. I’m right here. It’s okay,” on repeat with the motion. Over and over and over until only occasional sniffles and deep breaths remain.

You hug him tighter as you start to shiver, the warmth created from your breakdown beginning to wear off. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to slide off his jacket and throw it over your shoulders. An instant cocoon of warm and comfort.

When his hands find their place back around your waist, he dares to speak.

“I got you.”

“I know.” And you do. Your voice is a little wobbly, as you’re unmoving from the embrace, but you most definitely do.

This is your Yoongi. The one you’ve come to know. To trust.

Of course he’s got you.

You use one of your long sleeves to dry your eyes and under your nose. With the nearing autumn weather, you’ve returned to occasionally wearing them.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe into his neck after a long beat of silence.

“What could you possibly be sorry for, Cattails?”

The return of your nickname has a grin threatening to emerge.

“For freaking out. I didn’t know that was going to happen.”

“Don’t be,” he says firmly. “I sprung that on you in such a shit way because I was in an even shittier mood. And you clearly weren’t prepared to hear it. I should’ve known better, so don’t you dare be sorry about anything,” he loosens his hold to pull back and look at you. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

You look down, hiding, not wanting him to see you like this.

“None of that,” he whispers, and brings a finger to your chin, tilting up.

It doesn’t meet much resistance.

Your eyes are still a bit swollen and patchy, but it’s the concern in his that makes you crack the smallest of smiles, if only to see his worry erased.

He already has enough on his plate. No need to add to it.

Not able to offer much more than a quirk of the lip, you’re relieved that it’s enough when he starts to wear one of his own.

It’s then you realise your position. Like the sight of it cleared your brain fog.

You’re kneeling over his lap, sitting on his thighs, face inches from his. One of his hands is holding your chin up while the other rests low on your waist, your own still loose around him.

So close, yet so far away.

Because he’s leaving.

And that thought alone allows you to throw caution to the goddamn window. It’s not going to matter once he’s gone, and you’ve wanted it to be with someone special.

He’s as special as they come.

Leaning forward, you close your eyes and the gap between the two of you.

Eyelids fluttering as your lips brush his. Soft, and gentle.

Like him.

You hold only long enough to make sure it counts before pulling back.

It’s funny, really.

It was just a few seconds, but you already find yourself wanting so much more with him. An unfamiliar but welcomed electric pulse finds itself running through your blood at the thought, and it makes you want his lips everywhere.

Your mouth, your jaw, your neck.

Anywhere he can reach.

Sparks pool inside you. Sparks and butterflies and fast flowing lava.

You let yourself relish in the glorious feeling for a single moment, before the reality of what you just did sinks in.

And then you’re scared.

Terrified, actually.

To open your eyes, see his face. His reaction.

What if he hated it? What if he’s never felt anything but platonic affection towards you and now you’ve gone and done this?

Sure, he’s leaving. But now that you think about it, does him leaving mean you’ll never see him again?

What if you just ruined everything?

Teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip, you take a peek.

For the second time today you feel your heart breaking, this time at the look on his face.

Is it shock? Or worse.

Disgust?

Doesn’t matter.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt. Not knowing what else to say.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, trying to get out of his hold, but he keeps you there. Unyielding. And you start rambling. “I shouldn’t have done that. You clearly don’t—It’s just that you’re leaving and I—“

Lips on yours shut you up.

It’s fervent and needy and passionate as he pulls you closer by the hips, desperately trying to get you as close to him as physically possible. Your nails drag over his scalp as your fingers snake through his blond locks. They elicit a delicious groan from his mouth that you consume with your own.

It’s the most intoxicating sound you’ve ever heard, and you want more of it. So you do it again, and again, and again.

He moves down your jaw and neck, sucking at the tender flesh near your pulse point, and your mouth drops open at the feeling.

You’ve always wondered, but…you didn’t know it could feel like this.

Every touch, every whisper, every press of his lips to yours feels amazing. He’s pulling pleasure out of places you wouldn’t have thought possible before him. And you never want to go back to not knowing.

The sweetest of whimpers leaves your mouth as he gently bites a soft spot, then soothing the glorious pain he created with the kindness of his tongue.

Yoongi swears to any god who will listen that he’ll do whatever they want so long as he gets to hear that sound repeatedly and for the rest of his life.

He returns to your lips and says, “come with me.”

You’re so focused on feeling that it takes a moment for his words to land. “What?”

“Leave with me. Let’s get the fuck outta here, and never look back, the both of us. Together.”

Yoongi looks so serious but..

He—he can’t be serious can he? 15 minutes ago he was going on and on about leaving and needing his key back and saying goodbye.

And now?

Sensing your hesitance, he punctuates each of the next three words with a kiss.

“Come. With. Me.”

It makes your answer arrive without really thinking. You don’t need to think. Not when you know deep in your newly reconstructed heart that it’ll always be the same whether you think about it or not.

So long as you’re with him, you know you’ll be,

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” He questions like he can’t believe it. Can’t believe you'd agree.

You make sure there isn’t a single doubt in his head as you look him dead in the eyes and confirm.

“Yes, Yoongi,” another kiss. “I’ll go with you.”

He pulls you into him for what feels like a million more under your shared willow tree.

Your salvation.

And you know they’re going to be the firsts of many, many more to come.

Three days later, and two bags packed full of all your earthly possessions, you’re on the back of Yoongi’s motorcycle.

In those three days he’s prepared everything else you’ll need. He’s gotten a cute leather jacket and helmet for you, some reading materials for the road, snacks, drinks. A place by his side for the foreseeable future.

In the same span of time, you’ve given him a home in your heart, someone he can rely on other than himself. Talk to, trust, experience life with.

Something he hasn’t had in nearly ten years.

Something he never wants to lose again.

He swings a leg over and you unclip the chain from your neck, handing him the key to the bike, to your now shared future.

Driving out of town—straight down Main Street—you watch as all the people you grew up with, who you almost destroyed yourself to fit in with, gawk.

Watch as they judge you for being with him, your best friend. For leaving, and not doing what they all expected of you.

For not being like one of them.

Because you’re not one of them.

You never have been.

And just like the dust that flies behind the wheels, you feel weightless, not giving a single fuck what they think for the first time in your life.

You don’t have to anymore.

You’re free.

A/N 3: Thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

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bubblesuga · 1 year

Text

Kingdom Come

Summary: Min Yoongi realizes that despite his efforts of keeping the reader safe, he cannot hide her forever. Tags: yoongi x reader!AU, fluff, angst, smut (prostate play), switch!yoongi, switch!reader A/N: I know I disappeared for six months but a girl gotta work unfortunately. With Yoongi's comeback, however, it made me want to write a period piece inspired by daechwita yoongi. So, here yah go:)

The tile is cold against your feet. It's not often that you find yourself wandering his home barefoot but when you do, you always feel much closer to the Earth than before. It gives you a small sense of safety, like you're better prepared to exit quickly and quietly should you run into someone you're not supposed to see.

It doesn't take you terribly long to get to his room. Of course you wish you didn't have to sneak, but you understand the consequences if you happen to get caught. How does a king, a ruler of thousands of people, find himself meeting with a woman of your status? A simple baker from the village below, sneaking her way up to the castle every single night to share a bed with him. But that is as far as it goes, as The King cannot publicly share his affection for you.

You remember meeting him before he was King. Before the war.

Your mother was always quick to send bread up to the fortress, and before, the townspeople were welcomed behind the castle walls. You rode your bike high up the hill with your sack full of baked goods to give to the queen. And he always sat waiting for you, in his satin clothing with the smallest smile on his face. He was the reason you didn't mind the trip.

When he was a prince, it was much easier to get away with interacting with him. Both children, both eager to make friends, and both unknowing of the world around them. Rather, unknowing of the two separate worlds you were living in.

When the war broke out and the fortress walls were sealed from the general public, you were effectively separated from him. It wasn't until you were nearing 20 years old when you saw him again, declaring victory as he rode his horse through town. His face bloodied and bruised, and a scar cut deeply over his eye. His victory run stopped abruptly when he saw you, standing just as you would when the two of you were children, with flour on your nose and your hand covering the gasp threatening to escape from your lips.

He was declared King shortly afterward. His mother and former queen becoming far too weakened by the stresses of the war to continue ruling the people. By then you had accepted the defeat of never seeing him again.

That is, until a handmade tea cloth holding together two single roses appeared on the doorstep of the bakery, with a note containing a simple message.

Meet me under the pear tree where you used to sing for me. I'll be waiting.

Your heart raced the entire time you walked up the hill, until you finally made it to the top to see his silhouette in the moonlight. As you approached, he looked over his shoulder and the same small smile from before returned.

"My King." you whispered nervously, bowing. Before you are able to complete the bow, he rested a hand on your shoulder and raised you up.

"Don't do that," he whispered back, "just call me by my name. I am not your King. I am your equal."

Again, your heart raced as your lips parted to say, "Of course, Yoongi."

You shake your head of the memories as you approach Yoongi's door. The usual giddiness that follows you has been lacking lately, your anxiety becoming more and more prevalent the longer that you realize that nothing is going to change. Despite your memories and how much you love Yoongi, you do not want to be his secret forever. You have a life to live. You may want children someday, you may want to be able to cook for him in his own home or even tell your mother that you're seeing him. You know that it's not realistic, but it hurts nonetheless.

So, the hesitancy that has taken over your excitement tonight is no longer a surprise.

Your knuckles softly tapped the familiar beat that the two of you came up with so he knew it was you. Three soft taps, a pause, and three more. You remember him giggling as he told you, "It's like my heart skipping a beat when I see you."

The door opens quickly, and Yoongi tugs you in the moment he sees you.

His hands are all over you in an instant, pushing you against the door while his lips move to trail kisses across your chest. His lips caress yours softly, soaking you in. He's always been quick and quiet in his movements, eager to taste you. Yoongi tells you he cannot live without the taste of you on his tongue.

As he darts his tongue out to lick a small stripe across your neck, he suddenly pauses.

"Are you okay?"

It's not until he says those words that you realize you haven't moved since he pulled you in. You feel yourself relax slightly under his gaze, but you can't help but feel a lump begin forming in your throat.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows in concern before pulling you close to him and leading you to the bed. "What is going on, my love?"

"I- uh," your breath comes out shaky, "Will it always be like this?"

Yoongi sighs. He doesn't ask for clarification because he knows exactly what your worries are. "I don't want it to be."

A single tear drops from your right eye, mirroring the now healed scar across Yoongi's face. Yoongi is quick to reach forward and swipe it away, his hands as rough as ever against your soft skin.

"I don't want it to be either. I don't think I can do this for much longer."

Yoongi's hands drop from around your waist, "What?"

"I don't know how much longer I can be kept a secret, Yoongi." You whisper, your face falling in your hands. Yoongi scoots away from you, and you can feel his body stiffening beside you. It makes your tears become more prevalent.

"You said that you would love me until kingdom come, _____."

You manage to tear your face out of your hands and turn towards him. His back is the straightest it has ever been, and his hands sit tense on top of his knees. It's almost jarring to see him so still, when moments ago he couldn't get his hands off of you.

"And I will," you breathe, "forever. But I have a life too!"

He seems to take your words in for a brief moment, before standing up and taking a seat across from you.

"Do you honestly think that I like having to go through this?" His voice is colder than it has ever been. You're used to him having his guard up but only when he feels someone may be outside listening to you. This is a new territory, but it had to be explored at some point.

"No, I don't think you do either. So why do we do this?"

"Because-" his voice raises slightly but he quickly regains his composure, "Do you know what would happen if the people found out I was seeing a commoner?"

You swallow, "You don't believe I have the power to be a royal."

"I won the war! If word gets out that I made a commoner my queen, you are the first person the enemy would go after should they want to regain power!"

"Oh, so this is all to protect me? Make me feel safe?" you're yelling now, but he is too. He doesn't seem to mind that others may here at this point, which the irony is not lost on you.

"Yes, exactly!"

"So what happens from here, huh? You have to marry at some point, is that when this ends? When your mother insists you find a Princess to marry? Is that when I have to go back and pretend that I never loved you? Watch you from afar, pretend like I didn't know your touch. Like I haven't felt the most intimate parts of you... Like I haven't lived and breathed just for you."

Yoongi's eyes hit the floor. You pull your knees to your chest and feel the weight of your own words rest upon your shoulders. If this is really what will happen, you can no longer do it. Love conquers all, but is it really love if it has to be hidden?

"My love..." he says after quite some time, sitting beside you on the bed. His head rests against the bed frame, "...I just want what is best for you. What makes you happiest."

"Being with you makes me happiest. If I cannot get all of you, then-"

"Then what? You don't want any of me?"

You don't respond.

"After all we've been through, you're willing to throw it all away? Because I'm trying to keep you safe?"

"I want to take the risk! If being your Queen means taking a risk then I'm willing to! I want to love you whole-heartedly, Min Yoongi." You explain, turning towards him.

He sighs softly, mirroring your position, before pulling you down to the pillow. He lays beside you, pulling you close to him. "I'll make you my queen if it means you'll be able to stay by my side."

You smile softly, "There's nowhere in the world that I am safest, than beside you."

Yoongi kisses you, gently. His lips curve into yours perfectly, like they were meant to always be there. You both to allow the kiss to become more heated, because it's nice just being with each other.

"You're right," he says, "we cannot continue hiding our love. Starting tomorrow, the kingdom will know you as my wife, my queen."

Your heart flutters, "You're not worried about the risks now?"

Yoongi's eyes widen, "I am terrified beyond belief. But I will go out of my way to make sure you will be safe. Forever."

"And I, you, Min Yoongi."

When you awake the next morning, Yoongi is already sitting up beside you. The sunlight shines into his room, and you realize this is the first time you have seen his room in this much light. It's obviously much later than you're used to staying, and Yoongi doesn't seem as panicked as you expected him to be.

"There is no way you're getting out of the castle without being seen so we have to tell Mother now. Before that happens, though, I want to make sure that you fully understand what you're signing up for."

You're rubbing the sleep from your eyes and pulling yourself up as Yoongi speaks.

"You will have people around you forever. The only place you'll get any peace is right in here. Your parents' bakery will be very successful seeing as their daughter is now a queen. If something happens to me, you will have to run the kingdom."

Blinking, you finally speak, "What?"

"If I die," Yoongi reiterates, "You will have to-"

Loud knocking rings through his room, causing the panic you expected to see from Yoongi to finally come up. "No time now, just act calm."

Yoongi rushes towards his door, his clothing flowing behind him. He opens it slightly, still leaving you blocked from view.

"Your majesty, I've brought you your breakfast." you hear softly.

Yoongi glances back towards you, before opening the door slightly wider. "I appreciate it, I am going to need a second bowl though."

The servant, an older woman with graying hair, meets eyes with you. Her eyes widen, "O- oh yes sir! I'll be back in just a moment for you and your missus."

Yoongi turns back to you after watching her scurry away with a smile on his face. He leaves the door open now, carrying the tray towards the bed and placing it in front of you. It's pork, a meat that you rarely ate, with porridge and a tall glass of water. You look up to him, feeling his hand tap your chin. "Eat up, my love."

You pick up the spoon and begin eating the porridge. It's delicious, better than anything you've ever eaten before in your life.

Yoongi sits across from you and picks up a piece of pork with his fingers, chewing on it slowly. "I will give it approximately 5 minutes before my mother is in here, by the way."

"What?!" you say, your mouth full of porridge. You instantly stand, rushing over to the mirror in the corner of the room and begin attempting to tame your hair. You've met the woman before, years ago, when you and Yoongi were both children. She liked you then, but how much will she like you now that you are going to be throwing her son to the wind?

"Baby," Yoongi stands behind you, grabbing your hands and holding them to your side, "You look fine. Everything will be okay."

"You're awfully calm for someone who didn't even think this was a possibility less than 12 hours ago."

"Because I thought it over last night. My mother will just have to deal with it. I am 30 years old, she has no say over who I marry, or who I taste." he turns your chin to him and captures your lips with his again. You can feel him pressing into your backside while his tongue dances across your bottom lip.

As you feel the outline of his erection press harder onto your ass, you moan into his mouth. He's very receptive to how vocal you are, but before it can go any further, footsteps approach his doorway.

He quickly pulls away and stands in front of you, watching as his mother enters the room carrying a second tray of porridge.

She's gorgeous, wearing pink and blue with her hair done up perfectly. She turns towards the two of you with a smile, "Yoongi, tell me who is behind you."

Yoongi steps to the side but keeps his arm in front of you.

His mother's eyes begin to water, "_____, are you seeing my son?"

"Y- you remember me?" Yoongi tenses beside you as you speak.

"Of course I do, you were the reason I couldn't get my son to come back home when you were children. I'd ask him where he was going and he would always say, 'Mom, I'm going to see my girlfriend.' And now here you are, finally in front of me." She walks forward and pushes Yoongi's arm out of the way, bringing you in for a tight hug.

"I was wondering when Yoongi would finally bring you home. It's been too long."

"W- we were scared." You respond, your voice muffled by her shoulder.

"Scared of what?" She pulls away, flattening your hair and inspecting your face with eyes of worry.

Yoongi moves beside you again, "I was scared that you wouldn't accept her, and that the enemy may come back and get her should I go public with her."

"Nonsense," she lays a smack on Yoongi's shoulder, "_____ will be protected. Nobody deserves their love to be hidden."

~*~*~

After a full day of speaking with Yoongi's mother and explaining how long the two of you kept everything hidden, you were finally alone with Yoongi again.

He caressed your back softly in the bathtub, your body warm against his while he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

"I'm glad your mother likes me."

"We just spent the whole day with her, do we have to keep talking about her?" Yoongi whines, water splashing as he throws his head back in a frustrated groan.

"Awe, does my poor baby need attention?" You turn around in the tub, facing Yoongi. His chest heaves as he juts his bottom lip out, "I do need attention."

"Oh you do? What do you need from me?"

"Can we finish what we started this morning?" Yoongi whispers, flexing his hips. His cock twitches beneath the water, causing you to reach forward and grip the base.

Your smile is almost sinister, while you begin jerking him off. He's tense immediately, his head tossed back and moans leaving his mouth. "You must have been hard all day, my poor baby. I bet you wanted to pull me away and use my mouth, huh?"

"Y-yes," Yoongi breathes, "I wanted you so bad."

"Mm," your hand moves faster, "couldn't wait to use me as your queen for the first time."

"P- please," his moans turn to whines, "fuck me, my love."

Your hand lowers and begins to dance across his ass, spreading his legs and allowing your fingers to brush against his hole. He whimpers the moment your finger stops, pressing into him softly.

"So good," your hand moves up and down his cock as your finger begins curl and thrust to brush against his G-spot, "Does my King like letting go with me?"

Yoongi nods, "Faster please."

Your hands quicken their pace as Yoongi reaches forward and pulls you forward, kissing you hard. He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, his mouth agape while his orgasm approaches.

"Cum, my King. Cum for me."

Yoongi moans as he releases, his hole tightening around your finger. His chest heaves as he pulls you to him.

"You're so good to me. I'm excited to spend the rest of our lives together."

You grin against his chest, pressing light kisses across him.

"Let's get out of the bath and have round two in the bed?" You suggest, your thumb gently massaging above his collarbone. Yoongi smiles, "Does my Queen want her turn?"

Biting your lip, you murmur, "Yes please."

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